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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

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Every Day After

Requested Here!

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x fem!shy!SWAT!reader

Summary: You are Deacon's best friend, and when you're poisoned and nearly killed, his protective tendencies make an appearance as he stays by your side to help you heal.

Warnings: angst to fluff, depictions of benzene poisoning, references to drug use and distribution, mention of character death, poisoning scene loosely based on 1x19 "Source"

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

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Being shy and being a member of 20-David don’t always mix well. Some days, you can talk with them without any problems; other days, they push you a touch too far, and you’re more comfortable being quiet. But no matter what kind of day it is, your team is your family, and they have your back.

One member of the team, however, you consider to be your best friend. David “Deacon” Kay is one of the best friends you have ever had, and when he jumps in to defend you and protect you, it’s easy for the rest of your team to see why you’re so attached to him.

“Where’s Deac?” Hondo asks as he enters the locker room.

“Not here yet,” you answer after closing your locker.

“You mean you didn’t carpool? Deacon was okay letting you out of his sight for that long?”

“He’s my friend, not my probation officer,” you reply softly.

Hondo smiles at your comment before explaining, “I just mean you’re usually together. Don’t see you separated much these days. Is there a reason for that?”

“Not whatever you’re thinking,” you answer, your voice weaker than it was a moment ago. “He’s my friend.”

“Who’s your friend?” Deacon asks, using the other door to come in.

“You,” Hondo answers, winking at you. He chuckles when you turn your chin away from him and steps toward the door as he calls, “We’re rolling in twenty to serve a warrant, so do your thing.”

“You alright?” Deacon asks, placing his backpack in his locker.

You nod, reaching down to tie your laces and take a moment to breathe. Your job is stressful, so finding quiet moments whenever you can helps you be a better S.W.A.T. officer.

“Here,” Deacon says, gently knocking your hand out of the way as he ties your laces.

Standing up straight, you watch Deacon double knot your laces and ensure your safety before tapping the side of your boot. He stands and meets your eyes.

“You good?” he asks, looking into your eyes as he rolls his shoulders.

“I am. Are you?”

“Always,” Deacon answers with a smile. “When you’re around, at least.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, gesturing toward your boots.

“That was adorable,” Street says.

You look over quickly, surprised to see him standing in the doorway. His smile grows when you lock eyes with him; you immediately drop your eyes to avoid his pleased look.

“A little Cinderella-esque, but cute. We just got a tip that our guy’s gonna try to run, so we’re rolling now. Unless you two need a minute?”

“We’re good,” you reply, while Deacon says, “Let’s do it.”

Deacon spreads his hand across your upper back, sweeping his thumb over the base of your neck in a comforting motion. You know he has your back, and the rest of your team is there for you, too, but physically feeling Deacon at your side makes you feel prepared to take on anything.

Climbing into Black Betty, you sit in your usual seat beside Deacon and listen to Hondo explain the warrant and the layout of the house you’re breaching.

“This guy will be armed, but we don’t know what else he may have goin’ on in there, so stay liquid,” Hondo concludes.

Deacon nods once as Black Betty stops. You follow Deacon to the west side of the house, waiting for Hondo’s signal to shoot a flashbang through a window before using the new opening to enter the residence. Deacon moves in first, clearing the room before you cover the hallway so you can move deeper into the house.

Tapping Deacon’s shoulder, you let him know you’ve got his back before he enters a bedroom.

“Closet only,” Deacon alerts, stepping back into the hallway before you.

Something hits the floor in the closet, but before you can turn back to check, the door slings open, and someone steps out. The suspect appears to be male, but you can’t tell much about his physical composure as he slams you into the wall behind you. You raise your arms to his neck, attempting to push him off of you. He grunts as he pushes harder, raising you so your feet are off the floor. Deacon moves in your peripheral, but you use the suspect’s momentum to kick him in the torso, falling onto him as he tips back.

“You’re under arrest,” you pant, flipping him onto his stomach and removing handcuffs from your belt.

“Get down!” Deacon yells.

You don’t hesitate to obey his demand, dropping to the floor beside the suspect as someone opens fire.

“30-David, we’re taking fire in the west hallway,” Deacon radios.

Looking over, you don’t see Deacon and assume he has taken cover in one of the bedrooms.

“One suspect in custody, one armed but not visible. Likely barricaded in the back room at the northwest corner,” Deacon continues.

You feel a hand on your ankle but immediately recognize the touch. Twisting, you confirm your suspicion when you see Deacon gesture for you to stay quiet. He raises to his knees in a doorway, and you move your weapon to your back just before he pulls you into the bedroom.

“Thank you,” you whisper as he closes the door.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replies, matching your volume. “Nobody else even got in, we’re trapped in here.”

“We need our cuffed guy. At the least, maybe we can trade him to get out.”

“I’ll get him, but if he makes noise, I’m pushing him back out.”

You nod and help Deacon pull the man you just fought with into the room. He pants as the door closes but doesn’t fight against you or Deacon.

“Yo, this dude is crazy,” he says, though you suspect he’s talking to himself. “I’m just try’na buy some dope fo’ ma cousins and he tell me to get in the attic and get the 5-0 off his trail.”

You furrow your eyebrows as you listen. The story may not make sense to everyone, but being a cop in Los Angeles quickly teaches you just what people are willing to do to score drugs.

“Did he offer to trade you drugs for getting the police away from him?” you ask.

“Sure did. ‘N’ then he dipped.”

“That’s not him in the back room, the one that was shooting at my partner?”

“Nah, that the guy who stay here. He bad, too, though. Ain’t nobody on this street mess with him.”

“Hondo,” Deacon radios.

“Are there more people coming?” you ask quickly.

“Is you a cop?” the man asks sarcastically.

You turn toward Deacon, and he nods to answer your unasked question about getting out of here. He will get you out of this, and you trust him, but you don’t want to imagine what he’d do to save you. He may be protective of you, but you care about him too and don’t want him to risk his safety, or worse, his life, to keep you out of harm’s way.

“Deac,” you whisper.

He looks at you, and you point to a loose piece of flooring beside the wall.

“This house may have a crawl space,” you explain, moving toward the corner.

You begin pulling pieces of the floor up quietly, smiling when you reach a spot without a subfloor. Deacon sees the opening above the small crawl space and drags your apprehended suspect toward it.

“I’m going to uncuff you,” Deacon says. “But there are dozens of officers waiting out there, so if you try to run you will fail and rack up more charges than you’re already facing.”

“Man, just get me outta this psycho’s house!” the man responds.

Deacon lets him go out first, not trusting him to be behind you. Helping you into the hole, Deacon waits until you’re moving toward the access panel on the south wall to slide into the opening. He pulls a few pieces of flooring back into place, hoping that if the “psycho” owner of the house manages to get in the room faster than expected, he won’t realize how you escaped.

When Deacon stands after army crawling the entire length of the house, you immediately hug him. His arms wrap around you without hesitation, glad to see you safe and out of the house. When a shot sounds from the other side of the house, Deacon wraps an arm around the back of your head and rushes across the yard, ushering you to Black Betty.

“Thanks for keeping me informed,” Hondo chides when he sees you.

“Radios don’t work when they get crushed,” Deacon argues, pointing to your destroyed radio. “You can thank this guy for that.”

“Man, my name’s Randy. Please take me to jail and don’ let these fools fin’ me,” your radio destroyer and previous enemy interjects.

“New warrant just came through,” Luca alerts. “We can hit his stash house, try to draw him out.”

“Fantastic,” you grumble.

Deacon pats your back, a reminder that you’re not alone, and the team now has an idea of what you’re up against. While Luca drives to the stash house, you take a mental note of your new injuries. For the most part, you feel fine, but you know there will be bumps and bruises tomorrow, and you’ll feel them when the adrenaline wears off.

“You need to get everything checked when we’re done. He hit you hard,” Deacon says quietly, ensuring no one else can hear.

Nodding, you agree to whatever he says. Deacon saved your life and though you don’t think you need a doctor, you’ll do anything he wants right now.

“We’ve got intel that this place is empty but stick together anyway. The call was right before we left, so it could be full now,” Hondo alerts. “We’re not here for the drugs, narcotics’ll deal with all that later, we’re just trying to catch a rat.”

“By becoming the cheese,” Street complains.

“We’ll be fine, playboy,” Luca promises.

“As long as you stick to the plan and listen,” Hondo amends. “Let’s get to it.”

You lead Deacon inside this time, using a small lock bypassing device. As you clear the first floor, you don’t see any sign of anyone using the building, and there isn’t as much as residue from drug use.

“Looks like he moved,” Deacon muses.

“Maybe our tipster made more than one call,” you agree.

“We don’t know that,” Deacon reminds you. “Stay vigilant.”

You nod, letting Deacon take the lead as you climb the stairs.

“This level looks just as empty,” Deacon says into his comm. “Second floor appears to be a code 4.”

“Something ain’t right,” Hondo replies.

“Deacon,” you call.

You don’t attempt to conceal your worry, and he turns quickly.

“Don’t move,” you add. “This place is rigged.”

“Rigged how?” he inquires.

“Hondo, you need to get everyone out,” you radio. “Watch the floor and don’t step on anything that isn’t flooring.”

“Copy that,” Hondo responds before commanding the team to exit cautiously.

“Why?” Deacon asks.

“You too,” you demand. “You need to go but be careful.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it harshly as you look down. There’s a small button under your boot, and you’ve already depressed it. The moment you move off of it, something will happen. It doesn’t appear to be a landmine or any other kind of explosive, but that makes you more concerned because you don't know what it is.

“Deacon, please,” you beg, your voice a whisper as you look at him. “Just give me a minute to try to figure this out.”

“No,” he answers. “I’m going to take a few steps back, and you decide what you want to do, or we can wait for a bomb squad.”

“It’s not a bomb.”

“Then do what do you need to do. I trust you.”

You want him to leave but don’t want to be alone if this is the end. You tap the wall beside you and quickly realize that whatever this detonator is connected to is probably directly to your side, hidden between the studs.

“Can you- can you back up, like a lot?” you request. “I want to try something, but if I’m wrong, you can’t be this close.”

Deacon nods, taking about ten steps backward. He stops, his complete focus on you as he keeps a hand on his gun. Whatever happens, he’s prepared to rush toward you. Feeling helpless is something Deacon hasn’t felt in a very long time. He realizes you wouldn’t be in this position if he had done a better job protecting you and tries to find a way to take your place. He steps forward, but you raise a hand to stop him before speaking.

“I’m going to move backward, really fast,” you explain. “Last chance to leave, Deac.”

“Wait-“

You move your foot up, stepping back, your movements fast but not fast enough. Something sprays from the wall beside you and into your face. As you gasp for air, Deacon runs toward you, pulling you over his shoulders as he watches the floor. Rushing through the stash house, Deacon radios for Hondo to get an ambulance.

Bursting through the door, Deacon lowers you to the concrete and watches you. Your breaths are short gasps, and a bright red rash spreads across your chest and face. Deacon pulls your Kevlar vest over your head and tugs your shirt down, giving you more room to breathe and removing any pressure from your chest.

“What’d she get hit with?” Hondo asks, kneeling beside your head.

“I don’t know!” Deacon answers, not meaning to take out his fear on Hondo but failing to hide it. “Whatever it was came from the wall and she immediately started having trouble breathing.”

“This isn’t good,” Hondo adds. “Her airways are closing; we only have a few minutes to figure out what this is and counteract it.”

“We don’t have time for an ambulance,” Luca says. “Get in, Betty and I will get you there.”

Deacon nods and pulls you into his arms again before laying you on the floor of Black Betty and pulling your head into his lap.

“St. Stephen’s is the closest hospital,” Luca tells Street. “I need you to call ahead and give them as much information as you can. They’ll need to be ready.”

“I’m on it,” Street replies, moving into the backseat beside you and Deacon. He talks quickly and quietly to the doctors on the other end of the line, but when your gasps turn to strangled wheezes, he yells, “Just be ready!”

Luca pulls into the emergency room ambulance entrance a moment later, rushing to the back to open the doors. Several nurses take you from Deacon, put you on a gurney, and run into the hospital. Deacon runs behind them, leaving the rest of the team outside.

“How long has it been?” Hondo asks. “She only had eight minutes, tops.”

“Six since they came out,” Street answers, looking up from his watch. “If it’s too late, Deacon…”

“Will never forgive himself,” Luca finishes. “And we won’t either.”

Hondo’s phone chimes, and he looks at it before shaking his head, his jaw clenched as he makes a half-sigh, half-laugh sound. “Our guy just turned himself in. And Deac’s buddy Randy lied to them about who was in the house. They knew where we were the whole time.”

“We have to leave her?” Street asks.

“For a bit. We’ll get updates and come back later,” Luca answers. “She’ll be fine.”

As Street, Luca, and Hondo leave to return to HQ and question Randy and the original suspect, Simon, you’re surrounded by nurses and doctors. As you near the eight-minute mark, the doctors decide to run down a list of possible treatments.

“Symptoms align with benzene poisoning by inhalation,” someone comments.

“Intentional overdose?” a young woman in bright pink scrubs asks.

“Get her out of here!” a doctor snaps, glancing toward Deacon with an apologetic look.

“That explains the skin irritation, irregular heartbeats, and lung irritation may be the cause of the shortness of breath,” the first person continues. “That would have been an incredibly high, concentrated dose.”

“Whatever she got hit with was thick enough that I could see it standing five yards away,” Deacon offers.

“I’m calling it,” the chief doctor says, “benzene poisoning by inhalation. Get her on oxygen, clean her eyes and skin, and get these clothes off. We need to remove the outside traces and get her breathing regulated before we move on.”

The nurses jump to action, and Deacon steps back as you’re wheeled into a room. The doctor who sent the Barbie lookalike away opens the door to your room a few minutes later, gesturing for Deacon to step inside.

“Her breathing is regular, heart rate has returned to a stable, though slightly elevated, number, and we’re running some tests right now to check for long-term damage,” he explains.

Deacon keeps his eyes on you as he listens to the doctor, letting the steady rise and fall of your chest prove that you are okay, that you are alive. No thanks to Deacon. Immediately upon hearing that you may have long-term damage, Deacon lets himself remember that it is his fault you are in this hospital bed, on oxygen, and possibly in danger of losing your career. He should have been more careful, he thinks, done more to protect you.

“Sergeant, I’m unsure if it’s my place to say this, but you saved her life, so don’t allow yourself to think otherwise. I’ll be back in a bit to check in on her, but if you need anything, press that call button.”

“Thanks, doctor,” Deacon replies, his eyes still on you.

Deacon takes a seat in the chair beside your bed, forcefully tearing his eyes away from you to text Hondo and Luca that you’re stable but unconscious. They reply quickly, saying they’ll be back soon and asking for more updates as Deacon gets them. He hopes he won’t have to tell them about any permanent damage.

“Deac?” you mumble, your voice quiet and distorted by the oxygen mask covering your face.

“Hey,” he answers, dropping his phone into his lap as he leans toward you. “Let me tell someone you’re up.”

“Deac, wait,” you request. When he sits back down, you say, “Thank you. You saved my life.”

“I should’ve noticed that it was a trap,” Deacon argues.

“The doctors said it was benzene. That doesn’t kill you unless you have prolonged exposure or inhale an incredibly large dose. I would’ve died if you hadn’t been with me.”

“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me at once,” Deacon replies, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I- I’m really dizzy, Deac.”

“I’ll get the doctor,” Deacon replies, pushing the call button before he walks to the door and stops a nurse.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Grayson,” the doctor says as he enters your room, looking at your chart on a tablet. “You seem to be one lucky officer.”

“I’ve got a good team,” you answer, looking at Deacon’s hands rather than any of the faces in the room.

“Well, I understand you’re feeling dizzy and have a bit of a headache, so I’ll make this quick. Those symptoms should go away, but it may take up to a few weeks to see improvement there. Other common symptoms of benzene overdose include nausea, and the breathing difficulties you experienced was caused by lung irritation which may cause shortness of breath. Weakness is the only other symptom I’d expect to see. Since your exposure was so concentrated and delivered so quickly, I don’t think you’ll experience any of the more intense effects, but I’d like to keep you for observation for, let’s say 36 hours just to be sure we found everything.”

“Will I get completely better? Where I can go back to work at S.W.A.T.?” you whisper, even though you are terrified to learn the answer.

“Oh, I have no doubt you will be back in uniform within a month. Again, there’s only a few symptoms that may last, and at the most they should pass within a month.”

“Thank you.”

The doctor nods and hands Deacon a piece of paper before he leaves. Deacon returns to his spot beside you and looks at the paper before passing it to you.

“When you’re up for it, you’ve got some bed-bound exercises you can do to stay in fighting shape,” Deacon explains.

“Where are Hondo, Street, and Luca?” you inquire.

“They got our guy, so they went to interview him and Randy.”

“Randy lied, didn’t he?”

Deacon nods, and his jaw clenches as he realizes that Randy probably knew about the benzene trap and may have even been the one to set it up, yet let you go, knowing you were headed for a death trap.

“What happens when I get discharged?” you ask, looking at the blanket as you keep your head down.

“They’ll probably want you to take it easy for a few days, be around someone in case something happens, and then you can ease back into fieldwork. With your record and how much Hicks and Hondo trust you, you probably won’t have to wait long after you get medical clearance,” Deacon explains, smiling as he thinks about you getting back to work as soon as you can.

“I don’t have anyone,” you whisper.

Deacon doesn’t catch it, leaning closer to look at your list of exercises. When it’s time to go home, they may not let you because you live alone and don’t have any family nearby. You grow sad at the idea of going to a rehab facility or staying in the hospital longer just because you don’t have any family nearby to take care of you. Suddenly, your head begins pounding, and the room seems to spin. You raise your hands to your head, putting pressure on your eye sockets to ease the pain. Deacon’s hand jumps to your back, pressing against the top of your spine as you ride it out.

“I don’t like that,” you murmur, moving a hand to your stomach as it churns. “It’s going to be a long few weeks.”

“We’re going to make Randy and Simon pay for it, though,” Deacon whispers. “And we’re all here for you.”

You nod, and when Deacon leaves to answer a call from Hondo, your nausea worsens.

“Tell me they’re talking,” Deacon answers.

“Oh, they’re talking, just not giving us enough to put it on either one of ‘em,” Hondo answers. “I need you to do me a favor though.”

“Anything.”

“You and Randy had some kind of connection, however brief it was. We’re thinking if you come in and tell him she didn’t make it, he’ll give something up.”

Deacon looks back into your room, but you’re turned away, curled into the fetal position, and, unknown to Deacon, fighting to keep your bearings as the dizziness causes nausea and worsens your headache.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Deacon replies.

“Sergeant, I’ve got her test results here,” Doctor Grayson says as he walks down the hall. “Everything looks good in the long-term, so we’re just going to have to wait out the side effects. I’m going to discuss continued care with her now, would you like to join?”

“I’ve got to get down to the station, but if you’ve got a-“

“Complete list of recommendations and necessary actions,” Doctor Grayson finishes, passing Deacon a paper. “Along with a few more low impact exercises, since she is clearly ready to get back to work.”

“Thank you, doc. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Doctor Grayson watches Deacon leave before knocking and entering your room.

“Sergeant Kay had to return to the station for a moment, but I have good news for you,” he begins.

You sit up against your pillows, giving him your full attention. Your mind wants to think about Deacon, curious about what he’s doing.

“I could use some good news,” you reply.

“Your test results look good, and I see no indications of long-term damage or complications. So, once these initial symptoms pass, you should be as good as before. What symptoms are you experiencing now?”

“Headache, dizziness, and nausea. Every once in a while it feels like my chest gets tight, but the dizziness is the worst.”

Doctor Grayson nods, pressing a button on his tablet. “I think you’re going to be ready for discharge tomorrow evening, as I said originally, I’d just like to observe you a bit longer and make sure nothing changes. You will need to have whoever you will be staying with complete the discharge paperwork; having someone nearby will be crucial to your recovery and ensuring those symptoms don’t get out of hand.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t have any family nearby and there’s no one I can ask to take me in for who knows how long while I recover,” you explain softly.

“We’ll discuss this further in the morning, but my team and I will make sure you have somewhere safe and comfortable to stay, I promise that. I’ll be back once more before the end of my shift, but you know where the call button is.”

While you try to fall asleep, hoping it will help you heal faster and move on from the intense dizziness and nausea, Deacon is lying to criminals and hoping it will help you heal by getting some answers.

“Randy, remember my partner? The woman you helped me get out of the house this morning after you tried to kill her?” Deacon asks.

“Yeah, nice lady, but she can kick,” Randy replies.

“She died fifteen minutes ago. From an involuntary benzene poisoning. You know what that means, Randy? That someone poisoned her, murdered her, and is going to prison for a very long time.”

“Ooh,” Hondo adds, tilting his head in disbelief. “Cop killers never do well in prison, but when it’s one of our own? A S.W.A.T. officer? You’re dealing with a whole ‘nother set of problems in this room alone.”

“Benzene ain’t kill people after the first time,” Randy argues.

Deacon slaps the table as he leans over it. “You put enough benzene in that wall to kill me, Hondo here, and yourself, and you’re the only routine drug user in here.”

“Man, she really dead?”

“She is,” Hondo answers. “And now we have to tell her family, even though we’re grieving too.”

“I only did that ‘cause Simon told me to. He said it wouldn’t hurt nobody, just confuse ‘em or some’in. I ain’t mean’a kill nobody, specially not no cop!”

Deacon nods at Hondo before they walk out of the interview room, and Randy is left to wonder why they seemed so happy after learning that he set the trap that killed you. Across town at St. Stephen’s, you do feel like you’re dying just because you’re refusing to take more than anti-inflammatory pain relievers, unwilling to use anything stronger after years as a cop.

“Sergeant Kay will be back soon,” your nurse says. “He called and asked about you a few minutes ago. You must be very close.”

“We are. My team is the only family I have, but they’re also my best friends.”

“I didn’t mean your team. How are you feeling? Is the dizziness any better or worse?”

“It’s about the same,” you answer, forgetting her first point.

“Well, that’s good, at least it’s not worsening. We weren’t expecting a miraculous recovery this quickly, but Doctor Grayson wants us to give you as much time to sleep as we can, so you won’t have many, if any, middle of the night pokes and prods from us.”

“That sounds nice,” you answer with a small smile.

“I’ll leave you to rest until your friend gets back.”

You fall asleep before Deacon returns, and when he sees you resting, he texts Hondo an update and makes himself comfortable for a night at your side. There is a folder with Deacon's name on it on the small countertop in the corner of the room. Deacon opens it and finds a list of rehabilitation centers and a note that you can’t go home alone tomorrow before he decides to do something while you sleep. Deacon has been restless since the moment you alerted him to the traps set in the storehouse, but he finally has something to do that will help you.

“Excuse me,” he says, approaching the nurses’ station with a kind smile. “I’m Deacon Kay, I came in with-“

“My favorite patient,” the nurse finishes. “What can I do for you, Sergeant?”

“Doctor Grayson left this list of rehab clinics for me, but I’d like to take her home with me tomorrow. I don’t feel right sending her somewhere when I’ve got plenty of room.”

“And I have no doubt you will attend to her no matter what. If you fill out the discharge forms, she’s free to go with you when the doctor signs off. Doctor Grayson comes in at four, so he’ll be the one signing off.”

Deacon accepts the clipboard holding the discharge paperwork and takes it back to your room to complete it. The nurses watch him with smiles, able to tell that he’s more than a friend and protective as more than a teammate, even if he’s unwilling to admit it.

You whimper in your sleep, pressing your face into the cushion to relieve your headache. Deacon moves a hand onto your bed, only pulling it away from your side to flip to the next page of paperwork.

“When did you get back?” you ask into the pillow with your eyes closed.

“Not long ago. How are you feeling?” Deacon replies, smiling when you take his hand.

“The headache is getting worse.”

Deacon brushes his thumb over his knuckles as you curl tighter around the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” Deacon whispers.

“It’s not your fault, Deac. You saved my life,” you reply.

“Shouldn’t have endangered it.”

“Deacon-“

You get dizzy before you can say anything else, gently squeezing Deacon’s hand as you clamp your eyes shut. Deacon stands, laying his other hand on your shoulder as you wait for the dizziness to pass. You know now to expect the nausea that follows, but each time it happens, the nausea is less intense.

“Do you think it’ll really take weeks to feel better?”

“No,” Deacon answers. “You’re strong – and stubborn – so you’ll fight to get back in fighting shape.”

“It hurts.”

Deacon frowns but doesn’t apologize again, though he’s blaming himself for everything. Maybe having a soft spot for you, as the team so lovingly puts it, made him blind to certain dangers of working together. He trusts you and would do anything to protect you from the risks of being a S.W.A.T. officer; now, he wonders if being distracted by you made him stop thinking about what he could do for you.

“You should go home,” you say. “It’s getting late.”

“I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right here when you wake up, or if you want to stay awake.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Deacon doesn’t add that despite how much he wants to, he needs to stay by your side and do what he couldn’t do earlier today: protect you and be there for you through all this pain and recovery.

When you wake again, the sun is up, and Deacon is no longer in your room. You can hear him talking, though, and when the door opens, he steps inside with Doctor Grayson.

“Good morning,” Doctor Grayson greets. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

Shrugging, you don’t want to bring up how sad you are to go spend the next few weeks alone in a rehab facility, which is arguably no better than a hospital.

“You did well last night, so I’m comfortable sending you home now, given that your discharge situation has changed.”

“It has?” you ask, looking at Deacon rather than the doctor.

“I’m taking you to my house,” Deacon explains. “Not for you, for Hondo. He needs hourly updates and none of the rehab places do that.”

You duck your chin, hiding from Deacon’s teasing as you smile. Part of you wants to insist Deacon doesn’t have to do this, but the other part desperately wants it.

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“Positive.”

Deacon sets a backpack on your bed, gently taps your leg, and walks out to complete the discharge. You open the bag and smile when you see some of your clothes and a blanket. Standing carefully, you change into the clothes and wait at the edge of the bed for Deacon to return.

“Let’s go,” Deacon murmurs as he takes your hands.

Pulling your backpack over his shoulder, Deacon keeps a hand in yours as he walks beside your wheelchair. When you reach the hospital entrance, Deacon’s car is waiting, and he helps you into the passenger seat before setting your bag in the back and getting inside.

You close your eyes, your stomach churning and your head spinning as the car moves. Deacon offers a hand over the console, and you hold it as he drives through Los Angeles and to his house. Releasing a shaky breath as he parks, you squeeze his hand in thanks.

“It’s going to be a long few weeks for you,” you mumble.

“You’re wrong, but we’re not worrying about me. Our top priority is you and getting you healthy again. That means that you need to talk to me, even if you don’t want to, okay?”

You nod, and Deacon smiles as he argues, “That’s not talking.”

He gives you a break from his teasing and helps you inside before carrying a few bags in from the car. You recognize them and realize he must have gone to your place last night to get everything you’ll need over the next few weeks.

“Deac, why’d you go back to the station yesterday?” you ask, reclining on his guest bed while he unpacks your bags.

He points to the water bottle beside the bed, waiting until you start drinking to say, “Hondo had an idea to flip Randy, and it worked. He gave up his boss, and they found enough evidence to charge both of them with a long list of felony charges.”

“What was his plan?” Deacon doesn’t answer, so you ask, “You told him I died?”

“Yeah,” Deacon says softly.

You nod before you move to the edge of the bed. Deacon rushes to your side as you stand and wobble slightly. As he grips your arms, you lean your head against his shoulder, taking deep breaths as your heartbeat pounds in your ears.

“Do you still get nauseous after this happens?” Deacon whispers, rubbing his hands over your shoulders.

“No,” you reply. “That passed after the first few hours. Now I just have a headache that won’t go away and get really dizzy. It’s random, so I don’t know when to expect it.”

Deacon nods and makes a mental note to keep a very close eye on you, especially when you’re up and moving around. Deacon's heart breaks as he watches you be affected by something he should have never let happen. Watching you be poisoned, being helpless in the hospital, and feeling like he can’t do enough to help you is weighing on Deacon, but he can’t worry about himself when you’re struggling because of him.

“Stop,” you demand, so softly that Deacon barely hears it.

“Stop what?” he asks.

“You’re blaming yourself. I could tell from the moment you turned around in that house. There’s nothing you could have done, Deacon, to keep this from happening, but you saved my life. So, please stop blaming yourself and thinking about what you could’ve done differently.”

Deacon thinks about everything you said, and his mind lingers on how your shyness was nowhere to be seen as you asked him to stop blaming himself. You read him with no effort, and the realization makes him smile.

“I’ll try. But only if you promise to talk to me, really talk to me, and let me know what’s going on,” Deacon offers.

“Deal. Right now, the floor is kind of spinning, but I need to walk around because everything is stiff.”

“I got you,” Deacon murmurs, letting you hold onto him as you walk around his house. You know he means it in more than the obvious way; he’s always had you and always will.

“Why’d you stay?” you ask. “In the hospital, I mean. And then you brought me here. If you did it just because you blame yourself-“

“Not at all. I was blaming myself, you’re right about that, but I did this because I care about you. That soft spot that the guys tease me about… that’s you. So, when I get overbearing and protective and everything else you’re going to see over the next few weeks, just know that it’s because I care about you.”

“I’m your soft spot? Because we’re friends?”

Deacon smiles, letting you lead him toward the patio door. “Something like that.”

Your breathing catches, and you stop to take a few shaky breaths before returning to your normal breathing patterns. Deacon rubs his hand up and down your spine as he waits, hovering nervously beside you.

“The headache is a little better,” you tell him. “Either walking around or your touch is curing me.”

“Why not both?”

You smile before looking away from Deacon. He walks you back to the bedroom and digs through one of your bags before handing you a piece of paper. While you look at the exercises depicted on the therapy list, you lean back against the pillows, tired and experiencing the worst headache of your life.

“Don’t rush anything,” Deacon says. “You’re already getting better, but don’t risk that trying to heal on your schedule.”

“What does ‘something like that’ mean?” you murmur. “About why we’re friends and I’m your soft spot.”

“It means that you’re my soft spot because we’re friends for now.”

“You don’t want to be friends forever?”

Deacon chuckles and sits on the edge of the bed as he answers, “Not really. I’ve always wanted more.”

You sit up quickly and wince in pain. You don’t hesitate before asking, “You do?”

“Are you okay?” You shrug, and Deacon answers, “Yeah. You’re my friend, but, c’mon, you couldn’t tell?”

“I thought you were just being nice, protecting me because we’re teammates.”

“That’s part of it. But even if you left S.W.A.T. today, I’d still be right here.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d think that’s why you’re so upset,” you muse. “But you’re just a great man.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

You shake your head and look away from Deacon.

“Could we- could we try to be more? After I’m back in fighting shape?”

Deacon smiles, leaning closer to you as he promises, “Yes. Just tell me when.”

You lean back, huffing when your headache worsens suddenly.

“I thought the Hondo-induced headaches were bad, but this makes them seem easy.”

“I’m telling Hondo you said that.”

“No, you aren’t. You know I’m shy and injured.”

“You haven’t been acting very shy.”

“Because I’m disoriented and have a crush on you,” you mumble as you drift to sleep.

“I’ll be right here when you wake,” Deacon whispers.

“And every day after?”

“And every day after,” he promises, smiling as you fall into a restful sleep.

Deacon has no doubt you’ll be back to yourself in a few days, meaning his advances will make you shy, but, for now, he’s happy waiting on you hand and foot, doing everything he can to help and keep you comfortable.

#hanna writes✯#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #requests #fem!reader #swat cbs #shy!reader

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sheabuttahwrites · 3 months ago

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the Venom & the Antidote ( a Stunna one shot )

*request - - Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist -

So much for a cute, easy weekend.

Mia did a double take as she turned and caught a glimpse of Stunna filling her doorway. She sighed at the sight of his goofy, grinning mug. Even in knowing she’d eventually have to deal with his presence, it hadn’t done a thing for her preparedness. Nor her patience.

“How you doin’, Miss Mia?”

“How long you been standing there, weirdo?”

“You rude as hell, you know that?” he asked, bopping into the guest room she had been occupying since the day before.

“I’m rude, but you standing there watching me like a creep.”

“Relax. I just walked up here.”

She rolled her eyes. Two seconds in and she was already aggravated. It didn’t take long whenever Stunna was involved. “I can’t even come see my sister without you all in my way.”

“I’m not in your way.” He smiled just enough for his gold fronts to peek through.

“You’re literally in front of me.”

“You free to go around,” he said, with a boldness only he could, taking in all of her soft, plush frame. His lustful gaze landed on her eyes and she had to look away for a second.

“And you Mack’s best friend. So, why you in here with me? Go back down there with her.”

“You know when I hear you on my side of town, I gotta come speak. I can’t say ‘Hey’?”

“No,” she spat, folding her arms across her chest.

He chuckled. “Mack told me you graduated, too. Congratulations.”

“Mhm. Thank you.”

“You was always smart as shit, even when we was kids. You got your master’s now, huh?”

“Yeah, I do. Did you want something?”

“Why you so mean, girl?”

“I’m matching your energy.”

He wrinkled his brow, but his grin stayed in place. “Mmmm, not quite. But you know I can help you out with them… big feelings you having right now.”

“See, that's why I don't like your ass right there.”

“Nah, I think you like me for real. The same way I like you.”

She dropped her arms back down to her sides, ready to spit fire, but something wouldn't let her do it. None of the flames could make it past her thoughts. She swallowed the lump in her throat as her once narrowed eyes began to flutter.

“…You good?”

She darted away from the gilded smirk on his face and cleared her throat as subtly as she could. “Can you move?”

“You really want me to do that?” he asked, having heard the intensity in her voice wane considerably. Her face had done the same.

“I really do.”

“You so pretty when you lie.”

She rolled her eyes, groaning like she didn't have another nerve left. Because she didn't. “How many times and in how many different ways do I have to tell you I don’t want you, Stunna? You know I’m with somebody. And, even if I wasn’t, I would never be down this bad.” She looked him from head to toe, driving home her disgust.

“She fucking you right?” Despite her lashing, his cool demeanor—and his audacity—had gone unaffected.

“Excuse me?! Watch your mouth and mind your business!”

He peered down at her frown and smiled. “My fault.”

“But, since you asked, she absolutely is.”

With a slow nod, he tucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Mmm.”

“Yeah. So, again, can you back up?”

“I could, yeah… but I know better.”

Watching her unravel little by little had his smile on full display. He loved the tough act she always tried to put on with him. Plus when he’d said she was so pretty, he’d meant it. She swallowed another lump. His smile was straight perfection, she had to admit. And those lips. Mm! Laser focused on trying to contain the butterflies he always eventually gave her, she didn't even realize that she’d started to move away as he so stubbornly followed.

“What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have—”

“No, you do. For one, you can’t follow simple instructions. And why would you ask me something like that?”

He shrugged a shoulder, so nonchalant about it. “I don’t like to wonder. And I would rather get my info straight from the source.”

“Yeah, ok. I know what it is.”

“What is it then?” he asked, grinning, humoring her.

“These girls around here got you so full of yourself. You think you can just say whatever to anybody, get whatever you want.”

“You think so?”

Her back made contact with the wall and it actually startled her. He fixed himself in front of her, both hands in the pockets of his bootcut jeans.

“Yeah. I got you all figured out.”

“You got me figured out?” Since he was much closer to her than before, he spoke in a lower, more calculated tone.

“Got you all figured out.”

“Mm.”

“But that’s just what you think,” she continued, prompting him to move a little closer just to see if she would stop him. She didn’t.

“Mhm.”

“‘Cause, see, I’m not the one.”

“Mm.”

He took another small step and, still, there was no protest.

“…Or the two.”

“You ain’t nothing to play with.”

“I’m not.”

She spoke as softly as him now. Something else she’d been too preoccupied to notice. Their bodies were barely touching and her chest rose and fell while she stared up into his deep brown eyes. Knowing he had full rein, he licked his lips and took up the last fleck of space left between them, pinning his hand to the wall next to her head.

“Mhm. You done?”

“…I might have something else to say.” She knew damn well she didn't. It was so hard for her to accept defeat.

“Aight. But, before you continue, I just wanna know one thing… what gave you the idea that I was playin’?”

His nose came down beside hers and she clenched her teeth and closed her eyes. All she could see were recollections of his rope chain dangling above her face. “…I can’t stand yo’ ass,” she said, lying quietly against his lips.

He smiled. “Yeah. You remember what we did that one time?”

“That was a moment of weakness. I’ve been trying to forget.”

“I still think about that shit, too.” He gently touched her inner thigh and a hushed gasp shook her lungs. “Remember when I…?” Her skirt bunched on his wrist as he slid his hand toward the spot. “You said it felt so good. Remember?” Unfit to answer, she dug her fingertips into the wall behind her, goosebumps dotting her skin. “Hm?”

“…You got a girlfriend,” she tried to remind him, but spread her legs a bit more for him anyway.

“Just say the word and I don’t.”

“Shit, I got a girlfr—”

“And you know I don’t give a fuck.”

She tilted her head back and her bottom lip slipped between his. He nipped at it before she took it away.

“You are such an asshole.”

“Mhm.” He brought his hand down from the wall and wrapped it around her neck, kissing her slowly and savoring the taste of her lips, how soft they felt against his own. Before she could stop them, her arms were draping themselves onto his shoulders. The rest of her body followed, turning to putty underneath his weight. He squeezed the thickest part of her thigh and she led her hands down to his chest, satisfying her need for a feel. Stunna was a slim dude compared to her, but he was strong. He carried Mia’s two hundred and sixty some-odd pounds well and without issue, the same as she.

“This doesn’t leave this room, Stunna.”

“You ever known me to run my mouth?” His kisses traveled down to her neck and she stopped breathing. He lightly brushed his fingers over the seat of her panties then across her thigh and to her hip. He reached around and grabbed her ass, carefully pulling her toward him. “…So, should I close the door?”

The rumble of his whisper shattered what was left of her defenses. She sighed, half-hating herself for what she was about to let him do. Again.

“Lock it, too.”

@lemmewritesomeish @thisiswhatshefelt @teheeboo @honestpreference @iamfredtina @blackerthings @judymfmoody @lyrarodriguez @fendionmyfeet @fadingbelieverexpert @chaneajoyyy @astoldbychae @hotgrlcece @daddiespamm @lovethecheri @xo-goldengirl @miyuhpapayuh @buttrflybby @jiminie-08 @queengodiva619 @soufcakmistress @shiania @motheroffae -taglist-

#yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul-mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #yahya fanfiction #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfiction #black!reader #yahya abdul mateen ii x black reader #yahya abdul-mateen ii x black reader #yahya x black reader #x black reader #black fanfiction #black plus size oc #black reader #black plus size reader #plus size reader #the Venom & the Antidote #SheaButtahWrites

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mushyblushyredhead · 2 months ago

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if u got a tickle facehugger, how bout a straight up tickle xenomorph? :>

Waaay ahead of ya 😉 but YESYESYESYES

Behold! BIG FLUFFY BABEY 🖤 (this is an old ask, last self-indulgent thing before I get back to the important stuff lol) …info dump below X3

STAGE 4: XENOMORPH aka “Lee-nomorph”

Object class: Safe

Height: 7ft

• The final stage of Xenomorph development.

• After chestburster period, the developing babies will promptly shed its remaining skin and fur as it fully matures.

• Growth rate is astonishingly fast; baby chestbursters can grow to full Xenomorph size in under 10 minutes.

• Once it reaches peak maturity, the now adult Xenomorphs will isolate themselves in a cozy spot to sleep for about 2 hours (best described as a “food coma”)

• Once they awaken, however, they are racked with hunger and will seek out the nearest food source (prone to tickle wrecking their human host first, but will not object to tickling others nearby as well)

• Feeds off of human laughter, but can also consume some sweet foods and beverages as well (Previous encounters claim Xenomorphs love sour gummy candy and M&Ms, and one report says a Xenomorph ate an entire carton of chocolate milk from the cafeteria——the carton included)

NOTICEABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS

Xenomorphs are distinguishable by their elongated furry heads and infamous inner extendable mouth. They have fur covering their entire bodies that is very soft to the touch. Long, feathery dorsal spikes protruding its back are still unknown for what purpose they serve. And long feather-ended tails serve to either securely restrain a victim’s limbs or use the feather end as a tickle tool.

The most noticeable trait a Xenomorph possesses is its extendable inner mouth, which it uses to give raspberries to its ticklish victims. This seems to be its favorite tactic when it comes to tickling humans as Xenomorphs love giving raspberries.

Despite not having visible eyes, Xenomorphs are very agile tickle monsters. They have an excellent sense of hearing, and can pick up the sounds of muffled giggles very easily, even from afar. Xenomorphs are very stealthy and can easily sneak up on unsuspecting victims.

PERSONALITY

Even though Xenomorphs are noticeably bigger and stronger than humans, they are very gentle creatures. Xenomorphs love physical affection (e.g. pets, cuddles, scratches under the chin, & belly rubs) and will continuously nudge you when they want to be pet.

Xenomorphs are very playful aliens that love to tickle attack humans. They like a good chase, and prefer to “play with their food” by chasing a human to cause flustered anticipation.

These aliens get their infamous nicknames “Lee-nomorph” by injecting a harmless, non-stinging venom through their fangs that puts humans in a lee mood. The only downside is your ticklishness will be dialed up as a result, even those who aren’t ticklish.

Once they’ve had their fill, Xenomorphs will pull you in for aftercare snuggles. It’s best to lay there and enjoy a nice nap alongside the alien instead of trying to break from the snuggle trap otherwise the Xenomorph may mistake your excess fidgeting for wanting more tickles.

Just like facehuggers, Xenomorphs will also spew corrosive acid if they see their favorite humans in danger. Xenomorphs will turn hostile, and will not hesitate to use to use their powerful jaws to bite through metal, crush through bones, or even use their inner extendable mouth to mutilate someone’s skull. Xenomorphs are loyal and will go to great lengths to protect the humans they love. 💚

#mushysart #tickle art #alien au #alien tkl #alien tickles #ler!xenomorph #alien tickle monster #in space no one can hear you squeal #answered asks #sfw tickle art #tickle monster #tickle headcanons #tickle fluff #sfw twords #sfw tickling community

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scourgeofmyownbrain · 1 year ago

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Edit: I MADE AN UPDATED ONE GO LOOK AT THAT ONE IT'S BETTER I CITED MY SOURCES AND SHOWED MY WORK AND EVERYTHING

Ladies and Gentlemen, Bitches and Bastards, Witches and Wizards, Mothers and Fuckers. Esteemed robot enjoyers, I present to you a semi-accurate height comparison of Bumblebee across the multiverse (as of July 2024). This really helps visualize the truly staggering differences between universes, at least height-wise. Also, three of these characters are Canonically the Same Guy; guess which ones.

I spent way too much time on the chart in the back it's not even funny. I will probably make more height charts for more TF characters and universes in the future. Don't expect it soon though, because when I make these, I am fueled by pure I-Got-Bored-At-Work-And-I-Have-Decided-To-Fool-Around-With-Robot-PNGs, and that fuel supply is inconsistent at best.

Hey Fun Fact, Did you know that Generation 1 Optimus Prime is around 19 Feet Tall? Bet some of you already knew that. I have no ulterior motives for bringing this fact up, what are you talking about.

My height explanations are below the cut, because you couldn't shut me up if you tried.

In an order:

Gen 1 - ~10 feet (the wiki says greater than 3 meters so I rounded up to the first whole number because round)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~10 feet (He looks identical to Gen 1 so... the reason his photo looks weird is because I couldn't find a good full body photo with him standing straight up facing the camera so I put two images together to make the worst looking photoshop job you have ever seen)

Earth Spark - 10 feet (There is no confirmed height yet but using a screen shot of him standing in front of a barn door I was able to make a reasonable guess.)

Animated - 12 feet (I have no genuine source for this, I think this info is just someone's guesstimate, but it seems reasonable. He's a tiny two door mini car, how big could he be)

New Live Action - 15 feet (The wiki hath declared. Also do we have a name for this universe because we need one I don't want to keep saying like 6 words to differentiate this one from bayverse)

Bayverse V1 - 16 feet (This is like the first 3 movies minimum, I don't remember when he hits his growth spurt. also wiki my love)

Cyberverse - 18 feet (I'm gonna be honest, the only info we have is from a really shitty screen shot of a magazine. SO if any one has a copy of this book from the video below, a high quality scan would be greatly appreciated and I will kiss the ground you walk upon. Yes I found the video where the screen shot comes from leave me alone)

Bayverse V2 - 18 feet (movie 4-5 I can't remember which one, I'm not re-looking this up. I fucking love the bayverse tho, this is the only universe with concrete and consistent this-character-is-this-height info)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - 20 feet (video game info screens you god send, kiss me sweetly)

Aligned Cont. TFP/RID15 - 21 feet (I do not know exactly where these numbers were found, but I fully fucking believe them. Just by looking at these characters on the show I can verify these numbers in my mind. They made specifically this universe to be full of freakishly tall robots for some fucking reason.)

And for any one who doesn't know, the three tallest are the same guy. Like the 20 feet tall one and the 21 feet tall ones, same guy. The ones in three wildly different art styles and designs. Let that sink in...

I fucking hate the aligned continuity why is that one my favorite.

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styluswritesdc · 18 days ago

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hiii could u do hcs of some of the riddlers with an autistic!reader? thank uu <33 i really love all of your writings ( •̀ ω •́ )

yes!! I sure can :) I love writing for these narstie little rat men hehehe

I included Killing time Riddler as I've recently reread it and I do love him!

I've always believed as an autistic person that these guys are on the spectrum. so this is going to be lovely for you dear reader!

Zero year:

oh man.. like yeah, this guy GETS IT.

he literally wears gloves to refrain from touching icky textures.

the only issue is that he is TERRIBLE if you're overstimulated. He'll poke you and make you TWEAK. like brother take two steps back before I lunge at you.

he's loud. He is overstimulating so.. good luck.

other than that he's understanding to sources of discomfort (just not him). He hates going to supermarkets, shopping centres or anywhere with a lot of people, germs or those EVIL florescent lights. He's getting you out of there.

He has his own melt downs all the time so if you have one, he's surprisingly understanding.

you're gonna stim together, especially if you have echolalia. he's saying funny little words or noises all the time.

Killing time:

okay so, bad.. but has a good side..

he compulsively uses riddles in his speech more than the other riddlers. which can be difficult or frustrating if you're trying to convey a complicated feeling or emotion.

its worse if you're already overstimulated and you've got this ginger rat in your ear speaking in literal riddles. like no, not right now please honey.

he also wears gloves for texture reasons. which is actually quite nice for you since they're a really soft leather!

he smells good, feels good.. he's actually kind of nice sensory wise! is actually soothing if you were anxious in public to fiddle with his gloves, cuff links or his very fancy suit.

Arkham:

look at this greasy old man. if the first thing that comes to mind isn't "man struggling with OCD and autistic tendencies" you're WRONG.

when you're the one having a melt down, it can be a bit difficult for him.

like. this is a small issue with your relationship as he wouldn't know how to deal with your symptoms of autism as he cant even cope with his own.

he's also a little awful texture wise. I mean specifically in Knight. this man is covered in grease, oil, sweat and dirt... not the nicest to touch.

he would be considerate to your overstimulation though, regardless of what you need he is helpful. if you need silence he wont make a peep!

TWOJAR:

sigh.. my HERO. the best guy at this.

I mean- he doesn't completely get it but, he literally has the ability to snap his fingers and what he wants to happen will happen.

Aka; if he can't immediately do something his men are on it.

music too loud? to busy here? overstimulated in general? need headphones? he's snapping his fingers and its sorted.

he won't be an issue when you are overstimulated or having a meltdown.

he's doing what he's figured out suits you best, either holding you, talking to you, or neither of those thing. he just aims to soothe and ground you.

genuinely ideal for this.

BTAS:

again, this brother has gloves on to stop germs and having to touch anyone. he especially hates shaking hands!

he GETS it. so whatever you need, he's right here.

he literally designs toys. he will make you fidget toys. genuinely he makes ones for him that are tiny pocket puzzles. any specific texture, sound or sensation you want!!

he's so fun too! with stimming together and info dumping!

will listen to you talk about your topic or media of choice and listen to it for as long as you want!super engaging about it too!

you will need to give him the same effort and attention when he info dumps to you though!

Dano:

oh he's great at it. stimming, info dumping, overstimulation even meltdowns- he's great at coping with them. (only with you though.. when he experiences these he's bad at managing them!)

he's so soothing. quiet voice, gentle touch, clear questions and gets straight to the point with things.

will blanket you up real nice and get pillows and snacks and stick on your comfort show/film

speaking of, he would love for you to show him your favourite medias and he will show you his!

its bonding time as far as he's concerned! info dumping for the win!

you have a joint fidget toy drawer where you have your collection!

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loz-untold-myths · 4 months ago

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♡ Untold Myths: Light & Time Event [2025] ♡

Day 7 | Light: Light | Time: Time

The Hero of Hope vaulted upward over the flares of gloom to plunged the Master Sword straight into the Dark Beast’s forehead— where the third eye Zelda destroyed three times over once sat. A breeze picked up from the flap of Zelda’s wings behind him. She placed her hands, glowing with gold, just over his. The blade ran with the same color and reflected like the scales of a fairy as she lightly pushed it deeper into the demon’s skull. His ghastly form was reduced to an ache, then the shadow of a man. He hovered above the castle’s central spire, the sword still lodged. The man— the true form of Ganon— still twitched his fingers as if he had the will to fight.

Yet another I couldn't choose colors for... But I like what I managed to do with the transition between Ganon and Ganondorf! The final battle is such a beautiful scene in my head. With a little more time, I would have added the dramatic sky and their placement at the castle roof! I at least got to use the visual of Zelda's "fae" form preparing to seal Ganondorf! And I got to design the Master Sword!!! This one could have been more grandiose, but that's something for another day.

And, with that, the week is over! Thank you to everyone who has participated thus far!! It's actually been the busiest week of my life, but soon, I'll be able to binge through everything thoroughly and reblogs will begin. ^^ What I've seen thus far has been so wonderful, and I am so glad that the prompts were a decent source of inspiration! You'll be receiving comments from me soon. :D

It's not too late to participate if you'd like, even though the week is over! This event isn't strict at all. Find more info here! (And everyone else's entries as they're added)!!

✨️ Event Master Post

✨️ Untold Myths Master Post

༺

REBLOGGING IS ENCOURAGED, BUT DO NOT REPOST.

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lu-is-not-ok · 5 months ago

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hi there! i’ve been motivated by previous asks, so i would really like to hear your thoughts on hong lu’s relationship with yi sang, as it is currently and how it may progress with the story… they have very interesting parallels to me and i wish i could see their relationship explored somewhere other than my own head lol

also, (if you would allow me two questions) do you have any particular thoughts about hong lu’s particulars (bachelor and sheltered)? i find the sinners’ particulars to be really interesting too but i never see them discussed anymore. thanks for your time & have a good day <3

When it comes to Hong Lu and Yi Sang, their relationship is much more straightforward but also much more genuinely positive.

The two don't really interact with each other in any notable manner until Canto 4, which is also where their dynamic Truly gets established. Canto 4's Dungeon is where they both end up connecting, as Yi Sang recognises Hong Lu as someone who heavily resembles Young Ji from the League of Nine, while Hong Lu himself appears to relate to and understand some of Yi Sang's struggles.

This all comes to a head when Hong Lu is the one to recognise the emotional core of what was happening and gives Dante the advice they need to actually reach out to Yi Sang at his lowest.

From this Canto onward, Hong Lu appears to consistently check up on Yi Sang during moments that remind the latter of his past with the League. Hong Lu shows that he not only holds concern for Yi Sang's emotional well-being, but also wants to make sure he doesn't bottle up his thoughts the way he learned he did in his past.

Likewise in Canto 7 Yi Sang is shown to be returning the favor to Hong Lu so to speak, though he's shown to struggle a bit more with processing how Hong Lu responds in comparison.

Outside of these moments, Hong Lu and Yi Sang are shown to generally have a cordial and amicable rapport, both showing curiosity towards each other when they share their respective knowledge and likewise jumping off of each other's observations to add their own. While Hong Lu does tease Yi Sang once or twice, it doesn't read nearly as mean-spirited as some of the shit he pulled with people like Heathcliff and Rodya.

Their relationship is perhaps one of the few on the bus that I can genuinely say is an entirely positive one for both of them. They both clearly care for each other and enjoy speaking with one another, even if they might struggle to understand one another at points. No ifs or buts, they're just straight up honestly decent friends.

It really makes me wonder how Yi Sang is going to take it once Hong Lu's lies are revealed... Compared to a lot of the relationships Hong Lu has with the other Sinners, his bond with Yi Sang seems the most genuine. Will Yi Sang be able to recognise that and will he decide to still stand by Hong Lu side?

Now. As for your second question.

I don't have much to say on Hong Lu's particulars beyond mentioning that their translation is. Interesting to say the least.

According to someone who speaks Korean, the term that got translated to "Bachelor" would more accurately be translated to "Young Master", aka it doesn't really have anything to do with marital status in its original language.

Similarly, the original wording for the "Sheltered" particular is more so an allusion to Hong Lu having a different sense of reality to what is considered normal. It's an interesting specificity that the English translation added that from my understanding wasn't there in the original text.

I don't have much else to add beyond the fact that people are too quick to trust the Manager Instructions as being the ultimate truth on what the Sinners are like. Their description of Ishmael as someone whose "patience runs deep" is proven incorrect in the fucking Prologue where her impatience is directly called out. This shit isn't a trustworthy source of info.

#ask #anon #lu speaketh #limbus company #hong lu #hong lu lcb #yi sang lcb #lcb analysis

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pascalispunkczechia · 2 months ago

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Rules I Break For Him 5

Masterlist for this fic here

When we get to the base, it's already loud as hell. People talking, shit clattering, the usual morning chaos.

I head straight to my office - meeting starts in 10 am, so coffee's gonna have to wait till after. Javier, meanwhile, makes his way to his desk.

I catch a glimpse of him picking up the phone. His face shifts. He looks... pissed. He ends the call and stands up so fast it's like his chair didn't even exist. He storms info my office. "Boss, we've got a situation," he blurts out.

Oh. So, I'm boss now. Not baby. Guess those roles are location-dependent. I make a mental note and bite back a smirk.

"We got a tip on a driver tied to one of our narco. Looks like he's heading to meet one of their guys. We need to check it out."

"How reliable is your source, agent Peña?" I ask, with just the right amount of edge - dragging out the last two words on purpose. Yeah! We're doing this game now. Apparently the whole 'let's drop the formalities' moment dind't happen. And honestly? I'm kinda living for it. Even if this is absolutely not the time for it.

"I trust him," he says simply.

"Good. You'll have to make do with three cars full of men."

"Fine. I'm taking Carillo," he says, already turning to leave.

All business. All discipline. Meanwhile, me? Still thinking about how he railed me into next week last night.

Get it together!, I tell myself. Maybe I should start taking notes from him. Because the last two days? Not exactly my most mature, professional self. I sigh and head off to the meeting.

And there we fucking go. We pull up the house. The place where one of Cali's top cartel fucker is supposedly about to pay a visit to one of his guys. Tip came from someone I know.

Vanessa.

Last time I saw her was maybe six months ago, right before they shipped my ass back to Texas. Needed to blow off steam. So I fucked her like... well, technically speaking, fucking is her job.

Haven't been with anyone else since. Vanessa tried, of course. Once I got back, she was calling the office five times a day, minimum. Didn't have the time. Or the fucking energy. Can't really blame her, though. Sure, she fucks for money and sees other guys, but I was tje only one she saw regularly for the last year. Maybe that's why she latched on.

But I was still pissed about missing the takedown Escobar. Didn't have room in my head for her. Didn't even have room for sex.

And then... she happened. And fuck if I know what the hell this is. She pulls me in like a goddamn magnet.

Look, I've always liked women. Liked fucking. No surprise there. But she's different. There's something in her that maes it impossible to just sleep with her and move the fuck on. I want to know her! Not just inside her, but deep under her skin. I want to crawl into whatever part of her she keeps locked up and stay there.

I want... fuck! I want something I haven't had in a long time. Someone to come home to. Someone to fall into at the end of the day... with the good, the bad, the ugly. Someone whose body isn't just a distraction, but a place to rest.

Okay, back to the Earth. Vanessa's tip came through a payphone. First time she's been actually useful in a long time - and no, she wasn't trying to get laid. Apparently, she's been seeing our narco's driver. So yeah, she knew exactly where the fucker would be today.

Now we're here. Waiting. Carillo's watching the street from the car like a hawk. But nothing's happening.

Maybe the tip was bullshit after all. Maybe I fucked up by trusting it. Or maybe I'm just so desperate to take a bite out of the Cali cartel, I'll chase anything that moves. Because I didn't get Escobar. And that shit still burns.

Then... Kid shows up. Thirteen, maybe. Gun in his hand. Fires one shot. Misses, of course. Little fucker can't aim. Takes of running.

Me and Carillo jump out. Leave the car right where it is. Tell the others to stay put, stay sharp, stay on comms.

We go after the kid. Suddenly shots ring out from the rooftops. We dive for cover under awnings, doorways - anything solid.

Jesus Christ! They're kids. Fucking kids.

We split up and try to get to the roofs, fast. Manage to grab two of them. One's maybe seventeen. The other, fifteen.

"You DEA fucks think you're smart, huh?" one of them spits. "You don't win in this neighborhood. Nobody does."

Carillo snaps. Screams at them to get on their knees, hands behind their heads. "What the fuck is this supposed to be?!" he yells.

"We got paid to keep watch. To report anything weird. So if you're waiting for someone, you're wasting your fucking time," they mutter - not as cocky now, but still full of attitude.

I don't wanna keep them. They're just kids. They don't see it like we do. Sad truth is, we can't stop this. They're from a poor neighborhood - someone waves money, and they'll do whatever it takes.

But stil.. Vanessa's tip was right. We just got here too early. These little fuckers already called it in - three matching DEA and police vehicles parked on the block? Yeah, nobody from Cali ain't showing today. Fuck!

"We let them go. Fuck it," I shout over to Carillo.

"Nope," he replies. "We need to send a message."

What the fuck? What does that mean?

Before I can even blink, Carillo pulls his gun and shoots the older kid straight through the head.

Holy shit...!

The body drops. Just like that. I can't move. Can't think. Just frozen.

He picks up the bullet casing, walks over to the younder one - the kid's crying now, shaking like hell. Carillo presses the bullet into his hand. "Give this to your boss," he says. "Tell him Carillo sends his regards. You don't fuck with us. Not for much longer."

And the kid? He runs. Doesn't look back. My ears are ringing. I don't get it. I don't fucking get how Carillo just shot a kid.

Fuck. We're all on edge, we're all strung the fuck out, but... this?! No. Fuck no.

I don't say a word the whole way back to the base. And Carillo doesn't try to talke either. Good.

It's dark out by the time we pull in. I walk inside, drop into my chair like my spine's not even holding me up anymore. Place is dead. Her office is dark too.

I should go home. But not home. Fuck that. The bar. That damn car's still parked out front anyway... whatever. Don't give a shit.

I walk. Smoke half a pack on the way. My hands are shaking. My stomach's sick. By the time I actually get to the bar, the last thing I want is a drink.

I need her.

I get in the car and drive straight to her place.

I'm standing at her door. Knocking... or trying to. My hands are fucking useless right now.

The lights are on. She's awake. She opens the door and the second I see her face, I know I came to the right place.

She looks at me, reads me instantly. "Javier... what happened?" she asks, voice soft, pulling me inside. "I didn't hear anything from Carillo but your face... something went wrong. What was it?"

We sit on the couch. I tell her, fast and flat. No details. No emotions.

She stares at me. Horified. And then she pulls me into her arms. I breathe her in. Coconut. She smells so fucking clean. Too clean for the filht I drag around with me.

I hold on to her. It helps. But noe enough. I pull back.

She looks me straight in the eyes. And then she pulls her shirt over her head. Nothing underneath. Her nipples are already hard.

Fuck.

She knows. She just fucking knows. And it makes something inside me break all over again.

My cock starts to throb immediately. I push her back gently, shrug off my tac vest and shirt, and watch her eyes track every inch of my body.

She reaches out, touches my stomach - slow, careful. I move my hands to her jeans, undo the button, pull them down, one leg at a time.

She stands. Wearing nothing but her panties. Takes my hand, leads me to the bed. Pushes me to sit. And I let her. Tonight, I can't think. I don't want to think.

She straddles me, starts kissing me, soft and slow. Her skin feels like fucking heaven. Soft, warm, real.

Her fingers slide into my hair and I lose it. I pick her up roughly and throw her down ono the bed. Her eyes go wide. Yeah. I know that look. I know this girl.

I grab her by the hips, drag her to the edge of the bed, and rip her lace panties down her legs. Black. Of course. Sexy as hell.

She props herself up on her elbows and watches me. She knows what's coming.

"I want you on your knees, baby," I growl. "I'm taking your from behind."

She does what I say. Back arched. Ass up. And jesus... that view.

I slide one finger inside her. She's soaked. Perfect. All for me. I add a second finger, move them in circles, twisting deep. She whines under me. Moaning. Squirming. I speed up. Lean down. Bite her ass - just hard enough.

She screams. Her pussy tightens around my fingers like a fucking vice.

"Who'd you come for, baby?"

"For you. For what you went through today."

And that's it. That's the fucking trigger.

I undo my pants, just enough to free my cock - and I slam into her in one sharp thrust.

Hard. Fast. No hesitation. Just raw need.

One hand in her hair. The other gripping her ass as I pound into her like my sanity depends on it. And maybe it does.

She's whining, all breathy and desperate, and fuck, even I can't keep from moaning. She's so fucking tight. I can feel every inch of her wrapped around me. Perfect.

I grind my hips slowly, bury myself all the way in, then freeze.

Need to slow the fuck down… I’m not ready to come yet. I need to stay inside her longer.

“Javi,” she begs, her voice wrecked. “Please.”

“What do you want, baby?” I mutter, low.

“Fuck me. Don’t stop.”

And just like that, I’m moving again. No holding back. Can’t. It’s so fucking good I could scream.

Every thrust pulls something out of me… the rage, the guilt, the sick churn in my gut from earlier.

I’ve got control again. And I’m not letting go.

I speed up, fucking her hard.

She’s crying out, loud and raw.

I grab her, pull her upper body back against my chest, keep her there. My lips find her neck, biting, kissing.

Her head drops to my shoulder, and she whimpers into my skin, nails digging into my hands as her whole body tightens around me.

She’s coming again. Two orgasms in ten fucking minutes. She’s a goddamn goddess.

That thought alone pushes me over the edge. I come hard. Burying everything into her - frustration, grief, need, fucking everything.

I stay deep until the last drop’s gone.

Then I pull out and smack her ass, just light enough to make her smile.

She collapses onto her back, breathing hard, cheeks flushed, eyes shining like I’ve never seen before.

I lie down next to her. Pull her into me, curl her up against my chest.

And just like that, I’m out cold.

I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is the digital clock on the nightstand. 4:30 a.m.

Yesterday starts coming back in pieces. Morning meeting. Finally got handed the keys to my service car. Quick lunch at a shitty little bistro down the street.

Then the wait... waiting to hear how Peña and Carillo’s operation went down.

Carillo showed up around six. No success. Didn’t know where Peña was. All he said was, “We sent a message to Cali.”

That was it. No details, no follow-up.

Didn’t sit right with me. None of it did.

And when Javier still hadn’t come back two hours later, I gave up and went home.

Maybe he’s already there, I thought. Maybe I’m just overthinking.

But he wasn’t. And the pit in my stomach only got worse. Where the fuck was he?

I forced myself into the shower, hoping the water would help. It didn’t.

Got dressed again. Jeans. T-shirt. Didn’t even bother with pajamas.

If I didn’t hear anything within the hour, I was ready to go looking for him.

And then I heard it. Knocking on my door.

I bolted. Fuck. Javier.

The second I saw his face, I knew something was wrong. Really fucking wrong. He still had his tac vest on. The same one he wore on the operation.

You know the rest…

I passed out in his arms. Total blackout.

Between the panic, the waiting, and the fact that he basically fucked the breath out of my lungs - yeah, no mystery there.

I could tell he needed it. That was his therapy. And hey, I’m not exactly turning down sex-as-coping-mechanism if it feels that good.

Thinking about the way he wrecked me last night makes my stomach clench again. Yeah. That’s the kind of problem I can live with.

I glance to the side... the bed’s empty.

He’s at the window. Shirtless. Smoking.

Of course. Jesus, Javi, don’t spiral. Not now.

I sit up, spine against the headboard, and the mattress creaks loud enough to get his attention.

He turns.

I scan his face, trying to figure out what version of him I’m getting this morning. “How long’ve you been up?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

“An hour, maybe,” he mutters. Flicks the cigarette out the window like it insulted him personally, then walks over and sits on the edge of the bed.

His hand finds my hip, casual, but heavy. His gun and badge are still on the nightstand. I grab the badge, mostly to avoid looking at him.

“Why aren’t you asleep, baby?” he asks.

“Probably the usual city bullshit outside,” I say, still avoiding eye contact like a fucking coward.

Look. We’re excellent at sex. Like disturbingly good. But when it comes to anything involving actual talking? Yeah, we suck at that.

“I think we should… talk more,” I mutter, then immediately regret how I said it. “Like, yeah, the sex is mind-blowing, five stars, would recommend... but maybe you should actually, I don’t know… say some of the shit you’re carrying around instead of stuffing it under the mattress and hoping I don’t notice?”

I finally look at him. Straight in the eyes. “I just think… maybe we should try to get to know each other. Beyond the whole ‘you’re hot and angry and broken and I wanna ride you into next week’ part.”

It comes out sharp. Honest. And yeah, I can’t believe I actually said it either.

He just looks at me for a second. Takes the badge from my hand and sets it back down on the nightstand. “I do want to talk,” he says. “You’re probably the only person in this fucked-up city I’d even want to talk to. I just… don’t know what else to say about what happened yesterday. This case is getting under my skin more than Escobar ever did. Maybe because I still haven’t gotten over the fact that they pulled me back to the States and I never got to finish that shit. And every fuck-up since then? Just adds more fuel to the fire.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I say softly, looking him straight in the eyes. “I really am. I wish I could help…”

And yeah. Maybe it’s selfish, but I hate how much it hurts me to see him like this.

“No. You can’t. I mean… you are helping me. Just by being there last night. That was my way of coping. You’re the only thing right now that actually helps,” he says, his hand moving slowly over my stomach. “And I wanna know you, baby. Fuck, I wanna know every inch of you, inside and out. But right now? Everything’s just fucked. So I fall back on the one thing I’ve always been good at: the physical part. Fucking. That’s the one thing I know I can do right. The one thing I’m sure I won’t fuck up.”

His hand slides up, palm over my breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. “If this is how I get to keep you in my life... if this is how I make sure you don’t just disappear on me... then this is what I do.”

My brain’s short-circuiting. Was that a fucking… confession?

Did this gorgeous, emotionally wrecked man (with everything going to hell around him) just say he needs me? My chest tightens.

I grab his hand, the one resting along my side, and squeeze it. “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him.

He gives me a sad little smile, kisses me, and lies down next to me.

We end up curled around each other, tangled up like fucking silverware.

He buries his face in my hair and starts breathing deep and slow.

I don’t want this moment to end. Eventually his breathing evens out. He’s asleep. Arms still wrapped around me.

And me? I feel safe. God, I feel so fucking safe with him.

Which is insane, right? We’ve known each other maybe three days! I’m technically his boss. I’m supposed to be drowning in case files, not in his arms.

What the hell are we even doing? Maybe we’ve both lost our minds.

Maybe I don’t care. Because right now, this... this is exactly where I want to be.

Call it whatever the fuck you want. But the fact that we both ended up back in Cali at the same time? That’s not just coincidence. My logical brain left the chat.

After Diego, my ex, I promised no man would ever take me down like that again. I was supposed to work my ass off, come home dead-tired and emotionally numb, and be fine with that.

But now? Now I feel good in a way that scares the shit out of me. I don’t wanna get burned again.

Diego was nothing like Javier. Not really.

And if I’m honest? Whatever I had with Diego wasn’t even close to this.

He cheated. The second a trashy street whore smiled at him. Made me feel like nothing. Like I was disposable. I’m never letting anyone do that to me again.

I burrow deeper into Javi’s body. Half-asleep, he brushes a fingertip over my belly. Soft. Gentle.

Do I trust him? I’m trying. No. I do. I trust him.

And that is what scares me.

Because what if this connection isn’t strong enough to survive the shitstorm that is our reality?

A tear slips down my cheek. I squeeze my eyes shut and press myself tighter into his warmth... so close I can feel the soft brush of hair between his thighs.

I try to fall back asleep.

Okay, I know - you’re probably thinking: “What the hell was Carillo doing there? Isn’t he already dead, killed by Escobar?”

Of course he can’t be in Cali. But listen, we’re in a completely different dimension here, alright? I needed Carillo for a plot twist. A twist that just popped into my head, and trust me, it’s a big one.

So yes, I need Carillo. I also need the prostitute Vanessa, which is why she’s mentioned. Everything that just happened is actually really important for what’s coming.

And trust me, what’s coming won’t be just about sex but it’s gonna keep you hooked. Or at least I hope it will.

NEXT CHAPTER HERE FOR MORE FICS -> MASTERLIST

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taojjang · 6 months ago

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𐙚 the first snow with riize .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day twenty-three! pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: so much love it's nauseating

synopsis: word has it if you're with your lover during the first snow, you're bound to be in love for the rest of your lives. so is it true?

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✩ shotaro ⸝⸝

you and shotaro often go on silly little adventures around town when he has time off work. whether its hunting for a new cafe or simply strolling and enjoying nature, the two of you are always out and about, exploring town hand-in-hand.

you and taro had just gone to your favorite cafe since you were craving a hot coffee. you walked home linking arms with him with a huge smile on your face since you'd finally conquered your coffee cravings. but as you were mid-debate with shotaro over black versus creamy coffee, you felt a cold peck on the tip of your nose. the two of you looked up at the sky and immediately let out gasps of awe. it was starting to snow.

"taro! do you know what this means?" you asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. taro tilted his head and hummed a "no.." you giggled and brought your face closer to his. "if you're with your lover for the first snow, you're bound to be in love forever!" you sang, flashing your most doting gaze. taro laughed and left a quick peck on your lips. "the snow doesn't have to tell me that~"

✩ eunseok ⸝⸝

eunseok is truly a homebody. he leaves the house to go to work and comes straight home, not going out for anything other than occasional grocery store runs. so of course its always fun to go with him on these trips!

it was 8 at night: the sun was down and the streetlights were making up for it's absence. as soon as you got out of the car, you took eunseok's hand and ran as fast as you could to the grocery store entrance, trying your best to avoid the cold. it was way colder than usual, so eunseok began searching for ingredients to cook up a hearty soup that night. but as he looked around the store, he noticed you were no longer beside him. a bit panicked, he started tracing back his footsteps and calling your name until his phone rang.

"eunseok, come outside! it's snowing!" eunseok let out a relieved chuckle as he saw you through the window, twirling around while staring up into the sky. "you'll get dizzy," eunseok warned before hanging up the phone and going outside to join you.

eunseok stared with doting eyes as you watched the snowflakes fall from the sky. you turned to him with a soft smile and said, "it's the first snowfall. you know that means we'll be together forever~" eunseok scoffed and ruffled your hair. "of course we will. you're seriously relying on the weather for that info?"

✩ sungchan ⸝⸝

you were pissed with sungchan that day. the two of you went to hang out with your friend group at the bowling alley, but sungchan had been pestering you way too much. though you're used to him bothering you, today was just absurd.

throughout the entire hangout, sungchan kept poking fun at you for never getting a strike and when you'd sit down, he'd keep tickling you and teasing you for not being good at bowling. so once you got into the car, you were giving him the silent treatment. "what's wrong, princess?" he asked to no avail. you crossed your arms and kept your gaze on the road ahead of you.

that was until white flurries began hitting the windshield. your anger all seemed to dissipate the second you realized it was snowing. you gasped and turned to sungchan, shouting, "it's the first snow! we're together on the first snow!" sungchan couldn't contain his adoration for you, bursting out into laughter. "you better get used to me since we'll be together forever!"

✩ wonbin ⸝⸝

wonbin is always your source of comfort on a tough day. no matter how tired you are at the end of the day, you still gather all the strength you have left to go visit your baby.

after a tiring day of work, you came to wonbin's house to do your favorite thing with him: nap. though you're always 10x more sleepy than him, he still loves to cuddle up with you and fall asleep beside you. but as you hazily opened your eyes, you noticed you'd slept through the entire night, getting almost 13 hours of sleep. but what caught your eye wasn't the time on the clock, it was the snow falling from the window.

"wonbin, wake up! it's snowing!" you cheered, sitting up to get a better view of the snowfall. wonbin groggily rubbed his eyes and stretched, still not comprehending what you just said. you excitedly lied back down to cuddle up against wonbin's chest. "we're together on the first snow!" you softly sang, falling deeper into his hug. wonbin smiled, tracing his fingertips against your back. "i told you i'd stay with you forever."

✩ seunghan ⸝⸝

you were extremely burnt out and stressed from the boom and bustle of the holidays. you've been searching and buying gifts nonstop for the past week, fretting about what to gift to who or where to buy the items. seunghan felt so helpless watching you stress yourself out over something that was meant to bring you joy.

to lift the burden off your shoulders, seunghan helped you wrap all of the gifts you came home with. seunghan tried his best to lift your spirits, asking fun questions like "what's your favorite christmas gift of all time?" and "when did you find out santa isn't real?" but nothing seemed to get that frown off of your face :(

that was until you helped seunghan bring all the gifts to the christmas tree and saw the snow falling from the window. you gasped, almost dropping the gifts to the ground. "seunghan! it's snowing!" you cheered, looking up at him with the happiest glow on your face. seunghan smiled and put the gifts down, taking your face into his hands and leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. "it snowed just for us!"

✩ sohee ⸝⸝

"oh, don't make me laugh." sohee groaned. "winter is so much better than summer." he argued, crossing his arms and giving you an odd grimace. the two of you always bicker over trivial stuff like who has the best music taste or which topping goes best with bubble tea. but today seemed never ending.

the two of you were fighting like siblings, arguing whether summer or winter was better. you argued that summer was better than winter because the snow is so annoying. you hate shoveling snow and you hate having to risk slipping on ice every time you leave the house. you just couldn't understand why sohee liked the snow.

but just as the two of you stopped bickering and began getting ready for bed, you gasped and pointed at the window. "sohee! it's snowing!" sohee looked out the window and scoffed, "thought you didn't like snow?" you shook your head and held onto his arm, shouting, "but it's the first snow! and we're together right now!" sohee couldn't help but melt once he realized what you were hinting at. he ruffled your hair and sighed, "looks like we'll have to clean up every snowfall together."

✩ anton ⸝⸝

so... technically you weren't with anton for the first snow. that day, you were feeling particularly under the weather after having a rough day at work. you've been working overtime to rack up enough money for christmas, but it's taken a huge toll on your body. so instead of going to anton's house like you usually do, you decided to go straight home after work and rest.

but you just missed anton so much :( as much as you needed to rest, you couldn't help but miss your giant teddy bear cuddling you and kissing your stress away. so you facetimed him! you lied on your bed staring at anton through the screen telling him all about your day and how much you missed him. but while you were talking his ear off, you caught a glimpse of something in your window.

your heart dropped when you realized it was finally snowing. your heart tore into a million pieces. "no! it's snowing!" you cried, looking at anton with a heartbroken pout on your lips. "why are you upset about that?" he asked, laughing at your sudden discontent. you felt your eyes water as you cried, "because i'm not with you! it's the first snow and we're not together!" hearing your voice break, anton immediately sat up and began reassuring you everything was alright. "oh love, the snow doesn't mean anything. i'm gonna stay with you for the rest of my life and you know that. why don't i come over and make you feel better, hm?"

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

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brummelliana · 2 months ago

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I just played through CBML and... oh.. my god. I've been trying my best to not laugh out loud since it is almost 2 AM. I LOVED IT!!! I can't wait for the next game!

I've been scrolling through your Tumblr and you seem to know a lot about The Beatles. I've just recently started to get into the fandom. I'd just like to ask you for any book or film recommendations of the fab four? Like The Anthology book and the series or something like that. I would love to know more about them! They seem so interesting, yet so disturbing to an innocent eye..

God I don't know, my knowledge has been cultivated by so much stuff over the past 7 years. To be honest, I now just look up info I need rather than read or watch Beatles stuff for fun (besides what I mention later).

Tune In the extended edition is super super thoroguh, but it only goes up to 1962. That's right, 1000 pages (?) of just the beatles childhood and beginning of the band.

I haven't even read all my books, you know why? I spend all my time drawing bitch. I used to be such a reader. It does make it difficult when I know if I crack open a book it will be full of horrible events by these terrible naughty lads.

Just read any Biography that interests you, but keep in mind some biographers have their biases, or are less credible than others. I tend to enjoy ones that focus on a certain topic (like Beatles in Hamburg, or Beatles 1963) cause you'll have more specific information or anecdotes. The broader ones that are just about the Beatles, or about one Beatle tend to be of a similar length, and can't go into detail on everything, so tend to cover the same stuff.

I will say, don't rely on video essays or short form content (like tik toks!) for information, or at least don't take them as fact. There is a fair bit of fake info about these guys online, so be a critical thinker!

The most fun way to get a sense of the Beatle boys is to watch interviews and performances of the era. I've come to prefer straight up experiencing them from the source.

Watch the movies! A Hard Day's Night (especially considering my next game), Help!, Magical Mystery Tour, even Yellow Submarine and the Beatles Cartoon (peak).

Be careful though because post 60s Paul loves to be a fat lying slut and tells the same fucking stories over and over for literal decades. I used to have a cute little list of them.

The problem with documentaries is that they just turn into a really felatiatory circle jerk of people who really want to ride their dicks, which I find annoying.

The BeatlesVideos01 on youtube is a great source, they upload so many, there are a lot of gems of interviews and performances that aren't the most popular ones. KistuBeatles has a lot of great remastered videos.

Or right, Get Back. Watch get back, there's the beatles straight up existing for 6 hours. (even if its a very specific period for the group).

To be frank, I don't think I've watched Anthology all the way through, but I think I already heard the stuff they talk about in it, and it gets parroted in biographies cause it came out a while ago.

If you would rather look up info online (that isn't gen z slop), here are some websites I have bookmarked:

(this one has so many pictures, It was the biggest help dating all my photos)

Here's my personal as comprehensive as I can get archive of photos and videos and more!

Happy Beatling.

#thanks for the compliment I'm hard at work at my next game.

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loreic · 25 days ago

Text

ALNST: Human Production Loredump

Very long, lore heavy post

[Spoilers obviously]

Okay so not sure if this has been done before but, this is basically a compilation of everything that we know on how pet-humans are produced/sold plus my own analysis.

We know for a fact that there are three main ways humans are sourced in the ALNST universe:

Human modification centers/Human editing shops

Foster homes/Family sales

Auction houses

+ Illegal factories

(*not sure what the exact terminologies are exactly cause they seem vary according to translators but eh)

1. Human modification centers/Human editing shops

Examples: Till, Mizi, Sua

So first we have human modification centers, which do seem to be where the segyein typically adopt (read: buy) their pet-humans. The aliens who source their pets from these facilities also seem to come from all classes (e.g. Urak - businessman, Nigeh - influencer, Shine - ???) so I’m guessing modification centers are your typical commercial pet shop.

We see baby Till being sold at a 50% discount so we do know they are sold pretty young, and that prices are probably based on whatever characteristics that the aliens deem favorable. But what I find interesting is the fact that these centers are called human modification centers (or editing shops in some translations), which hints that these kids do go under some form of modification before being sold. It’s most likely behavioral, kind of like a puppy training center, but I’m wondering if it could possibly include visual and genetic modifications too.

I mean Mizi’s hair is pink even as a child ffs. You can’t tell me that’s normal.

We also know that Till was being cared for by his mom for a little while before he was separated due to the potential he demonstrated as a singer, which makes me think that most the kids that end up in modification centers are basically either A) produced in an in-house factory for that specific center or B) produced in an off site factory on a contract basis before being shipped off modification centers once they’re old enough.

Considering Io has a notch in her ear, which just gives me a heck ton of livestock vibes, and this specific image we got from Till’s comic I’m leaning more towards Option B. Baby Till also looks like he’s being shipped off in a giant crate which I’m guessing is a shipment to the modification center where he eventually meets Ivan.

The providers look like they’re kept in tiny cages, and the whole vibe of the factories is giving puppy mill/commercial mass production. The fact that there are human mothers at all suggests that most factories that supply the products to the modification centers probably produce their products the old fashion way, with not much cloning/growing-artificially-in-alien-pods involved (probably to keep production costs low).

2. Foster homes/Family sales

Examples: Hyuna & Hyunwoo

Okay so there is almost no info on foster homes at all, but we do know that their main selling point seems to be the fact that they produce actual biological siblings that can be bought together in sets, which seems to be a novelty amongst the aliens (e.g. Sua and her ‘sisters’). They remind me a ton of amature dog/cat breeders – the sort that produce specific, fancy breeds and sell litters straight out of their backyards rather than go through pet stores.

We know extremely little about the conditions in foster homes, but I’m guessing products are also produced the traditional route, but this is wholly speculation and being artificially grown in tubes seems just as likely (assuming the aliens running these things have access to such technology anyway). Either way, the conditions are probably slightly better than factories. Considering Phan (who is canonically some kind of alien aristocrat) ended up buying Hyuna and Hyunwoo, I’m guessing products produced in foster homes are most likely sold directly to middle and upper-class segyein, or possibly produced on a by-order basis.

3. Auction houses

Examples: Luka, Ivan (technically)

Right, so we’ve established that Luka is basically a human version of an inbred pug, having a bunch of traits that the aliens have deemed desirable at the cost of his health. The official art also lists his birthplace as an auction house, which suggests that these facilities have to be capable of producing humans at some capacity rather than just being a place where all the high quality pets with favorable genetics are sold.

I’m guessing they’re sort of an extremely exclusive, overpriced version of foster homes that cater to the upper classes. The products they produced are probably the highest quality money can buy (think competition grade racehorses with ridiculously long pedigrees), and are sold to the highest bidder.

We don’t really know where this particular scene in Wiege takes place, but chances are that it’s either in some facility owned by Heperu or the actual auction house where Luka was born/created. We also don’t technically know for sure yet if Luka is actually a clone, or if he just happens to be the progenitor of the clones he accidentally murdered, but either way I’m guessing that products produced at auction houses would most likely be produced and grown artificially to ensure optimum genetics. Considering they cater to the upper class I wouldn’t put it pass them to offer exclusive services like cloning to their clients.

Auction houses do seem to also function as a place where illegal products are sold. We still don’t really know how Ivan ended up being auctioned off, considering we saw him with Till in the modification center when he was younger (I’m suspecting Unsha might not actually be his first or even second owner, and that he was first illegally sold to the modification center, bought and then resold at an auction), but this particular shot of him is definitely giving underground, black market auction.

My theory is that the auction houses are either split between legal auction houses (like the ones that made Luka) and illegal caution houses (the one Ivan ended up in) or more likely that they have both legal and illegal sessions exclusive to the wealthy.

4. Illegal factories

Examples: Ivan

So Ivan’s birthplace is listed as the slums, and we do know that he was produced illegally. How is pretty vague, but the implication is that they are illegal human factories up and running in the shadier parts of town. Ivan doesn’t seem to know his birthday either, which probably means his documentation is shady af. We don’t know exactly if pet-humans have to be registered, but seeing that illegal humans are a thing, they probably have to be and Ivan was not.

Considering we got this from his album cover, I think it’s safe to say that conditions are the worst out of all the places to possibly be born in the ALNST universe (rip Ivan, you deserved so much better). I’m assuming it’s supposed to reflect illegal puppy mills, where costs are kept as low as possible and the only goal is profit (I don’t even wanna picture the horror Ivan’s provider probably went through). Though it ended up being a trademark of his, I’m also thinking his snaggletooth might have originally been some sort of production defect that the aliens just never bothered fixing, considering he was technically supposed to be a low-quality product.

Building on that, I’m guessing the main clients of these illegal factors are modification centers (similarly to how some pet shops would unethically source their animals), but considering some translations list Urak and Unsha as shady businessman I’m thinking illegal human trade is probably pretty rampant too, and some of their products are sold directly to lower-class segyein for cheaper prices.

5. Bonus: Strays

Not the actual term for the rebels but that’s what the rebels/humans without owners essentially are in this universe – strays. We see a bunch of kids in the rebel base in Wiege, which makes me wonder if they are kids that the rebels freed from captivity/picked up randomly during missions (case in point Dewey), or if they happen to be the children of the stray humans.

Which brings me to the headcanon that there are some humans in this universe that have been free for generations. It’s a nice thought to have at least, that despite how humans as a species has been twisted to the point that love is but a vague concept there are still some traces of humanity that made it out of segyein oppression in this universe.

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #alnst makes me sick #I also don't own the art books so correct me if am wrong lmao #alnst lore #alnst #alien stage #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #alnst sua #alnst hyuna #alnst luka #loreic posts #loreic loredump

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