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#I want things of SUBSTANCE i am annoyed and impatient
sergle · 2 years
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also I’m glad some other ppl have been feeling it too- but lately I have just so been like. not feelin it, with stuff that is obviously meant to have an Air of sort of body positivity, if you could call it that, but is really just hot garbage when you look closely at it.  I know we have some frighteningly low standards for what we consider praiseworthy in this topic, but I’m tired LMAO I only want actual body positivity, not just meaningless platitudes. tiktoks about how you don’t need to feel bad about your body and victoria’s secret models aren’t realistically proportioned or sized, but all the people dancing in the video or thin. or quotes from a fatphobic dude about how alluring it to go on a date with an (unspokenly thin) person who orders a large meal and finishes it all without seeming self conscious. and it’s like. is this the kind of stuff that I’m supposed to Yass at? 
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lokis-wager · 1 year
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I'll fight that annoying anon for you, gave me anti vibes
Nah, may be someone who doesn't know fandom etiquette lol. S'alright, no biggie. I just want to emphasize how much that I am doing this for free, and for fun. I can completely understand getting impatient about a fic that you fucking love not getting updated, or getting brainworms over it.
But still! You know what I also do for free, and for fun? I play vidya. I talk to my friends. I RP. I draw (really shittily but you know). Writing is just one of the things I do in my spare time. And this isn't even getting into the shit I pay for, or the substances I use lol.
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nextdoor-neighbors · 4 years
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Frustrations
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: When making Amorentia in Potions, you and Fred Weasley - who you can’t stand - come to a horrifying realization of who your potions smell like.
A/N: I know this isn’t really how Amortenia works but just bare with me, I liked the idea.
Link to Part 2!
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“Today, we’ll be making Amortentia.”
“Ooh,” you say, under your breath, shifting in your chair. You’d heard of Amortenia, so you are excited to see what yours will smell like.
“I swear, you’re the only person in this world to get excited over Potions,” your best friend, Cedric, whispers in return, looking at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m not the only one,” you retort, “don’t forget about Snape.”
“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Diggory.” 
You look up at the sound of your name, cringing inwardly at Snape’s harsh gaze on you. Normally, your professor didn’t have a problem with you. You could say he liked you, even, considering you were normally the only one in the class to answer his questions.
“Miss Y/L/N. What is Amortentia?”
After rattling off a perfect definition, you hear snickers behind you, which without a doubt in your mind, comes from the Weasley twins. The two boys had always infuriated you with their pranks and their never taking anything seriously. Plus, they always went after you with Bludgers whenever your house played them in Quidditch. You knew they only did things to annoy you because they got a kick out of seeing you get so riled up, but you still fell for it every time.
Snape looks at you once last time before turning away. “Good. But enough with the chitchat in my classroom.”
“Yessir,” you respond, quietly.
Finally, Snape lets you begin. You carefully read through the steps, making sure you measure everything perfectly. Cedric watches you, grinning and shaking his head.
“You really are set on making everything perfectly, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Cedric,” you reply, not taking your eyes off of the substance in the cauldron in front of you, “I really am.”
“Oi, Y/L/N,” one of the Weasleys calls from behind you.
You sigh and turn around, raising an eyebrow as you meet the eyes of Fred Weasley. Fred was most certainly the more annoying of the two, in your opinion.
“What do you want, Weasley?”
“No need to be so harsh. I’m just asking what you think yours will smell like, that’s all.” You can’t help but notice the smirk that plays on Fred’s lips.
You narrow your eyes at him before turning back around. “I hate to break your heart, Weasley, but not you. Not in a million years.”
You risk a glance over your shoulder, just to receive a wink from Fred. “We’ll see about that, darling.”
You turn back around, huffing as you do so, before either of the Weasleys can see the blush spreading on your cheeks. You will it to go away before someone else sees either and gets the wrong idea.
Snape comes over to your table, peering into your cauldron.
“Why don’t you tell the class what yours smells like, Miss Y/L/N, since you’ve finished already?” he drawls, looking at you expectantly.
You lean over your cauldron, inhaling deeply as you try to place the scents that are wafting towards you.
“Mm,” you hum, naming the scents you recognize: “Smoke, like from a firework. And... sweets?” You sit back in your seat, now flushing deeply at the fact that your entire class now knows what you’re attracted to. “I-I think,” you add.
You hear the familiar chuckle behind you, and Snape’s head snaps towards the sound.
“Mr. Weasley,” Snape says sternly, “if you think it’s so funny, and considering yours looks like a disaster, why don’t you come smell Miss Y/L/N’s and tell the class what it smells like to you?”
Fred comes up behind you, so you scoot your chair over slightly so he can smell your Amortentia. You watch as he leans over, his hair falling over his face, and you get a whiff of the smokey scent again. You must be sitting too close to the potion still.
He inhales deeply, a confused look twisting his expression, and sniffs it again.
“Well?” Snape asks, impatiently.
Fred straightens up and shrugs. “Y/L/N is sitting too close to me. All I could smell is her perfume.”
The corner of Snape’s mouth quirks up in amusement as he looks between the two of you.
“That’s all I needed to know. Take a seat, Mr. Weasley,” he says, before turning away and walking to the other side of the room.
You look up at Fred, horror sinking in as you realize what Snape meant. You watch your feelings reflected on Fred’s face and the realization sets in for him, too, and he quickly turns away to head back to his seat.
You risk a look over at Cedric, who’s stifling a laugh.
“Oh, shut up,” you hiss at him, blushing again. Fred Weasley, attracted to you? He couldn’t be. All he did was tease you. And plus, there was no way you were attracted to him in return. I mean, what you smelled...
You start thinking about it, and it all makes sense, but in a terrible way. No, no, there had to be someone else who could be associated with those smells. Right?
Class ends, and you’re still deep in your thoughts as you gather your books. You have a free period next, so you’re probably just going to go hang out with Cedric at the library, like the two of you normally do. But as you’re leaving the classroom, your head lowered, you feel a hand on your back.
You look up in surprise, only to be face to face with Fred Weasley himself.
“What?”
He sighs at you. “Can I just talk to you? Without you hating my guts for five minutes?”
You blanch, guilt settling in at your harsh reaction, so you merely nod and let Fred lead the way down the halls, until you finally find an empty corridor. You both stop, standing somewhat defensively, in the middle of the hallway.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Fred begins, “or, actually, ever find out, but here we are.”
The boy standing in front of you isn’t the annoying, constantly teasing and joking boy you’ve known for years, and it shocks you. He looks at you sheepishly, waiting for your response. But, honestly, you’re speechless. You’d spent so much time over the years simply looking at the things that irritated you about Fred that you never looked at the good things. For example, you had to admit that he was very good at Quidditch, despite the many times he nearly sent you to the Hospital Wing. And looking up at him now, you can't help notice that he is quite good looking. You’ve never been into gingers, but...
“Find out that you fancy me, you mean?” you ask, cocking your head.
When Fred doesn’t answer right away, you continue: “Why?”
He shrugs, his gaze locked on you, and you see the corner of his mouth beginning to twitch. You knew he couldn’t be serious for long. Oh, no, maybe this is all a joke. Maybe he didn’t actually smell your perfume, and maybe he just said that to mess with you, and-
“Oh, Merlin,” you say, breathily, cutting Fred off before he can even begin to answer your question. You’re so stupid, of course it was a joke. After all, it’s Fred Weasley you’re talking about. And to think, you were actually considering your feelings for him.
“This is all a joke, isn’t it?” you scoff, backing up. You watch as Fred’s face contorts, several different expressions passing over it in a matter of seconds. He steps towards you.
“No, Y/N-“ You can’t help but notice, through your embarrassment and anger, that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.
“Y/N,” he continues, “it’s not, I-“
You step back once more, fuming, your back hitting the wall of the corridor.
“And how am I supposed to believe that, Fred, when that’s all everything is to you? Right? Oh, except for Quidditch, when you’re trying to kill me!”
Fred’s hand, palm splayed, lands on the brick wall next to your head, making you flinch. He leans close, frustration, heat, and that smokey smell radiating off of him. You look up at him, your heart pounding out of your chest and your breath catching in your throat.
“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice low and husky.
“What, Fred?” you respond when he doesn’t continue, your voice sounding shaky and far-away.
“If you’d just let me talk,” he says, slowly and quietly, making your stomach flip, “instead of being the know-it-all that you are all the bloody time-”
“Then what?” you cut him off, but you just can’t help it, not with all the feelings boiling inside of you. You’re angry and hurt and irritated and just a little turned on and- “Then you could laugh at me and tell me you lied about the Amorentia just to see how I’d react because mine smelled like you and you wanted to humiliate me?”
“Do you ever just stop talking?”
“Listen, you git-”
You’re cut off by Fred’s lips on yours. You fall into the kiss for just a second, taking in the softness of his lips, his smell, his body closing in on yours, and oh, Merlin, the passion and anger behind it, but once you process what’s going on, you put your hands on his chest and push him back, but not too far.
“Fred,” you say, at a loss for words between heavy breaths, because bloody hell, he’s a good kisser.
“Are you going to let me talk now?” he says, stepping back from you, much to your dismay. His eyes are dark, and as you watch him look you up and down briefly, you know it’s over for you. You have to give in. He’s just too damn addicting.
“No, I’m not.” you say, “Kiss me.”
That dastardly smirk appears on his lips as he steps back towards you, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours again. Next thing you know, his hands are gripping behind your thighs and he’s lifting you, pressing your back against the wall as you wrap your legs around his waist and grab two fistfuls of his hair. The two of you meet each other’s hungry and ferocity, but it’s constantly increasing, as if you just want to one-up each other about who wants the other more. He bites your lip, hard, and you gasp, both from the pain and the pleasure.
“I knew it!”
Fred practically drops you as you both process the voice coming from down the corridor. You scramble to your feet, adjusting your skirt and hair as nonchalantly as possible, turning towards the source.
George Weasley and Cedric stand, staring at you and Fred with amusement. Well, George looks amused, while Cedric looks mostly concerned. You know you’ll have a lot of explaining to do later.
“I- we- it wasn’t-”
Fred picks up his books and begins walking down the hall towards his twin. But not before he turns around and gives you yet another once-over, winking at you with that smirk.
“See you next period, Y/L/N.”
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inkandpen22 · 3 years
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Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader
Warnings: mild language and violence 
Word Count: 3.1k
Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve
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Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.
“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.
I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?
Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.
“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.
She nods timidly, “thanks…”
I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.
“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.
I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.
“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”
He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!
Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.
“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.
Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.
“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.
Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.
“Woohoo!” She laughs.
This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.
_______________________________________
On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.
“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.
I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.
It’s Billy.
“Hey hottie,” I smirk.
He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”
That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.
He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.
“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.
“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.
Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.
I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.
“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.
Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.
I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”
“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.
Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.
“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”
“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.
Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.
“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.
“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.
Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.
The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.
“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.
I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.
I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.
“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”
Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.
“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”
I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.
“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.
“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.
Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.
Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.
“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.
Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.
“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.
He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”
“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.
The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.
______________________________________
I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.
“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.
He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.
“What?” He questions, turning to face me.
“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”
He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.
“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.
I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.
“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…”  I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.
I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”
Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!
“Y/N!” He calls after me.
I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!
“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.
“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.
His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.
“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.
“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.
Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.
“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.
My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.
“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”
Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.
I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”
He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.
_________________________________
Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.
Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.
I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”
“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”
“I did too,” I tell him honestly.
He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”
I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.
Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”
“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”
“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”
“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.
I laugh, “sometimes.”
“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.
Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.
“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.
I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.
We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!
A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.
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myrulia · 3 years
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"You Taste Sweeter" - Kokushibou x Self Conscious!Reader
.。.:*✧Synopsis: You are rather self conscious of yourself and it becomes bothersome to your Upper Moon of a lover. How will you react to you being beneath him and having sweets drizzled all over you, all the while being treated like fragile candy?
.。.:*✧Warnings: Food play, body worship, praising, dirty talk
.。.:*✧Word count: 4225
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`` Does this look decent? `` You asked whilst slowly turning around to meet the gaze of your one and only, Kokushibou. The Upper Moon One was simply sitting on your shared bed and eyeing your standing form that changed into the fifth outfit of the hour. Truth be told, he was annoyed with your constant switches and why you cared so deeply about others opinion. At the end of the day, if you are comfortable then why worry?
`` [Y/N], choose a kimono already. This is the 5th one and my statement still stands, choose the first one and get it over with, `` said Kokushibou with a harsh tone. You knew he leisurely became aggravated at your hesitancy to decide on an outfit. The process could have been done an hour ago - and yet here you are, standing in front of your mirror with furrowed eyebrows and glaring at your lover. `` Darling, it is not as easy as you make it seem- ``
`` Then what is stopping you? ``
His sudden interruption made you go as quiet as a field mouse. Your back stiffened and it was obvious your entire body became tense. As always, Kokushibou had read you like a book and there was nothing you could do to outsmart him. Sighing out, you allowed your shoulders to drop to relax your stiffened muscles, still standing before the Upper Moon in slight shame that you allowed yourself to hide the truth from him for so long. You did not wish to take so long with choosing a measly outfit - in fact it never took you this long before - but this night was different. It started a little after sundown when you first looked at yourself in nothing but basic lingerie to analyze yourself, and the more you looked, the more you found more imperfections about yourself. You thought to yourself that Kokushibou deserved better than less than perfect, and thinking of the many beautiful humans and demons you have seen in your lifetime, you have come to realize just how truly indifferent you are.
As you were lost in thought, your much taller lover stood up from your shared bed, now taking slow strides to you until he was directly in front of you, placing his much larger hands on your shoulders and heaving out a small breath before speaking - supposedly attempting to de-escalate his aggravation. `` [Y/N], what are you not telling me? ``
In that annoyingly husky voice, Kokushibou leant down to your left ear, speaking in such a deep tone that you had to readjust the clothes that suddenly became tight on your skin. The demon then stood straight with his hands still on your smaller form, all the while you had to recollect yourself in order to speak your truth to your lover. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, you look into the pair of eyes in the middle, finally speaking. `` I have felt uncomfortable in my own skin as of late. I feel like I am not good enough because there are many more beautiful women to choose from so I do not know why you would choose me. ``
This time he let you speak, processing what you said and scoffing in both disbelief and offense. His glare became more prominent on his features so suddenly you felt smaller than what he usually makes you feel. Removing your gaze from his golden irises, you look down at the tatami mat flooring to ignore the internal shame you felt for feeling such ways. It is not like you could control those emotions, you felt as though you could not be compared to any other women your eyes have fallen upon. They were beyond gorgeous and that was a fact you accepted the more you thought about your imperfections.
`` Look at me. ``
His demanding tone lead to your head to snap in the direction of his own, which caused your chin to naturally tilt up. Your lip was quivering - yet barely noticeable because you wanted to look strong for your even stronger lover. Of course, his supernatural vision allowed him to notice every single detail about you, and so he obviously saw the pained expression on your face that you were struggling to hide. Sighing and shaking his head, Kokushibou runs a thumb over your bottom, glossy lip before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss onto your plump lips. You immediately let out a small whimper as your walls basically became crumbling down, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace.
Your lips practically lunged at his, tasting him for all he is worth while his did the same, indulging himself in your flavor until that is all he could detect on his taste receptors. A kiss that went from something so delicate and innocent now turned salacious and lust-filled. Your back was met with the hard surface of the wall from Kokushibou forcefully pushing you, and so you let out a small gasp that parted your lips yet they were quickly silenced with his landing on yours once more. You were trapped in his embrace in that moment with your small whimpers being hushed by his lips ravaging yours hungrily, obviously wanting something more out of the already heated kiss. Although oxygen was also needed so he withdrew himself from you, all the while you were left a mess and leaning against the wall for support. A hand of yours made its way onto the demon's hair, raking your fingers through the mess until you successfully pulled his ponytail out from its hold. 
While you both chased after your much needed breath, calloused hands moved from your shoulders to your waist, yet positioned themselves at your thighs and hoisted you up on the wall. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself from falling onto the floor, but just as quickly as you also wrapped your arms around his neck, Kokushibou kept his hands firm on your thighs. He sauntered back to your shared bed and placed you gently on the mattress, standing in between your thighs that refused to let him go. The Upper Moon took note of your actions and let out a small chuckle, just before wiping away any stray hairs that had fallen on your face. `` Please wait for me, I need to grab something from the other room. ``
You pouted at his sudden announcement of leaving due to the fact that he already managed to get you this bothered in your own clothes, feeling as though you are suffocating in them. `` Fine, but do hurry, I need you. ``
He simply nodded before placing your legs back down and stepping out of the room quickly to grab who knows what. While your lover is unfortunately gone, your hands spring to strip your body of the overly smothering kimono on your body. You discarded the unnecessary clothing onto the floor, taking no note of the small noise you heard outside of the sliding door connecting to the hallway of your home. 
Whilst you were stuck in the bedroom being impatient as ever, Kokushibou who looked around for a certain something was having a hard time locating the item he acquired merely a few days ago. He let out a low grunt of dissatisfaction multiple times until he successfully located the one thing he desired.
Chocolate.
Not just any chocolate, chocolate syrup that he had many plans with. Having said substance in hand, he strolls back to your shared bedroom only to be met with the sight of your body in nothing but a simple underwear set, but the one thing that caught all six of his eyes was your fingers plunging in and out of your cunt whorishly. Your eyes were closed so you were not aware of his entrance, your cheeks being flushed from the feeling of your fingers - yet it was not enough to pleasure yourself. You twisted and writhed, your legs being clenched shut trying to feel more from yourself, yet you could not satisfy your own needs no matter how rigorously you moved your two digits.
Kokushibou, who continued to move undetected, placed the chocolate onto the bedside table, moving to stand in front of you once completed with the simple task. He could not lie, he was enjoying the sight of you not being able to get yourself off without the help of himself, yet despite enjoying the small little show you were not aware of giving him, his hand finds your wrist, grabbing you gently to stop your movements. You peel your eyes open to meet his gaze, your faces being inches from each other. `` I- I am so sorry- ``
`` There is nothing to apologize for, but my star, let me make you feel how beautiful you are instead. ``
Your cheeks flushed even more once Kokushibou began crawling onto the bed, pulling down your panties by the hem, slowly gliding them down your legs until they were completely off and throwing them to the side as well. His other hand trailing up your thigh and spreading your legs to reveal the delicious sight of your dripping pussy pulsating in such desire for him. You crawled backwards until your back hit the wall once more, meaning you were trapped and at his disposal as always. The male kept his eyes fixated on you and your flustered state that was so easy to cause. You turned your head away feeling flushed and heated in your lower reigns, but you refused to admit to such things. `` [Y/N] I want you to look at me as I pleasure you. ``
His voice returned to the same husky tone he used earlier to seduce you into doing such naughty things, so you found yourself staring into his golden irises again and longing for his touch, his scent to overwhelm your nose, his cock bending your mind to pleasure. You desired him and it was no point in hiding such a fact. There were no words that needed to be uttered in order for Kokushibou to understand just exactly what you needed - but that does not mean he is not going to be a tease about it. 
Laying you down gently, he now has both hands interlocked with yours, hovering above your almost entirely exposed body while the only thing exposed of his was his chest and abdomen. It was a habit of his to wander around your shared living space in nothing but a measly hakama that teased the living hell out of you, and even now, it seemed like the fabric was mocking you again, blocking your view of his muscular body above yours. `` My love, I never want you to feel like you are anything less than utterly beautiful. You will forever be the brightest star in my life and nothing can change that. Please do not feel those things about yourself ever again, otherwise the punishment will be far worse than this. ``
`` What do you mean punishme- oh, `` you managed to let out a small gasp at the end of your questioning sentence in view of the fact that your lover grabbed something you never would have even guessed he owned, drizzling the light brown substance all over your lower abdomen. The cold feeling being left on your exposed skin caused you to squirm - just a bit - so you could adjust yourself to the temperature, and seeing you struggle was amusing to the demon before you. A large hand glides up your arms, stopping just in front of your still covered chest by that accursed bra of yours, so in one swift movement, it is ripped from your body and in shreds on the floor. You let out a miniscule whimper at your nipples now being exposed to the cold air around you.
Kokushibou's hands then trailed to your cold, erected nipples, fondling with the two sensitive buds while watching your face scrunch at the tease of pleasure he was giving you. Bucking your hips up, you whine much more audibly this time, making your needs and wants known to the Upper Moon because the teasing was driving you mad. A deep chuckle escaped his lips. Now leaning his head forward, his tongue probes out from his mouth and landing on your skin, coaxing the wet muscle with the chocolate he drizzled all over your stomach without shame. He continued to eye your expression, only to see that your eyes were closed and your head was now tilted back. He figured your nipples got the teasing they deserved so he pressed the pad of his thumb on the buds before gripping your breasts entirely, kneading the two globes while his tongue explored your body.
You writhed beneath him each time his fangs would brush against your skin, multiple shivers emitting from your spine that caused you to shiver. The feeling of his tongue on your body trailing up in between the valley of your breast was mind numbing and your toes curled at this. Kokushibou knew what he was doing as he got closer and closer to his face, his tongue being lathered in chocolate and saliva, the two substances that made a dangerous combination on your skin. You refused to open your eyes because now your cheeks were crimson all over again. You never would have expected such acts from a demon like the Upper Moon, and yet here you are underneath him being treated like royalty almost. 
`` I will not ask this again [Y/N], open your eyes and look at me. ``
You followed his orders - slowly. It was on purpose just to see how far he is willing to go to get his point across. Yes you were going to be a brat about it, but gradually become worse over time.
Once your eyes were fixated on him, his hand that was on your left breast gripped your cheeks, which caused your lips to be puckered open and you looked in shock as the demon spat in your mouth before exerting his lips onto yours. His tongue forcibly entered your mouth, allowing you to taste the sweet chocolate on his taste buds that was being transferred to yours, saliva getting in the mix until you could not tell who's was who's. Your hands that were originally gripped the bedsheets now wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer until your chest was pressed against his. Soon you pulled away for oxygen, and it took one glance in each other's eyes to know what the latter wanted. `` Kokushibou I am sorry for wasting o-our time. Please do not tease for long. I need you to fulfill my needs. ``
`` Do not worry, your needs will be fulfilled when I say so, my star, `` Kokushibou said in a lower tone, letting go of your face and breast to finally rid of the difficult hakama covering his own erection. He quickly discarded the fabric and threw it onto the floor beside the bed, looking down at you with a fire ablaze in his eyes, peering at your body having chocolate smeared all over, but he is not done with the sweet treat just yet. `` It does not seem like you are doing much about my needs darling. ``
`` Do not worry, they will soon enough, just be patient, `` he reassured while caressing your face ever so gently with his fingers. The gesture was gentle and loving in a sense, yet you felt his girthy length invaded your already flexing pussy. Your eyes fluttered back as you do nothing but surrender yourself to complete bliss. `` Kokushibou! Warn m-me..! ``
`` You do not deserve a warning, this is a punishment..- after all, `` he snarled in response. His calloused hands found yours, taking the chance to interlock your fingers and stare down at your beautiful irises. `` You deserve to feel what it is like to be loved, and so I will not stop until you know just how beautiful you are. ``
You simply nodded, not really knowing what else to do in that moment since you felt so full because of his cock alone. You tried to adjust yourself, yet your walls continued to contract and clench on his length, and that was all it took for the male to start his slow, yet hard thrusts. He pulled out slowly, barely to the tip, before slamming himself back inside you. You inhaled sharply before letting out a loud, breathy moan, rolling your hips so you can ease the fiery pain and pleasure that overflooded your senses throughout your entire body.  Kokushibou let out a deep groan before it quickly changed into an also breathy moan, tilting his head back whilst his hands started to grip yours. He was losing control and it was obvious with how every vein pulsed on his body and became more prominent.
Moan after moan escaped your lips each time he continuously rammed his length deep inside you, reaching every goddamn spot inside of your silky insides covered in your delectable juices that made it much more easier for Kokushibou to slide in and out of your hole effortlessly. The hard rutting of his hips against yours became bruising due to the fact that his thrusts were roughly inflicting pleasure to your pussy and your skin would meet with his every time. It was too much and he barely did anything.
Your hands wormed out of his to get a better grip of something, anything, just to calm the electrifying waves of pleasure taking over your nervous system as a whole, so you moved your hands to his back and clawed at his skin for dear life. The action earned you a low growl from Kokushibou who had to grip onto the bedsheets for dear life just to hold himself up. Your nails digging into his back was painful - but enjoyable to know that he is pleasuring you this well - yet very far from done.
`` Enjoying yourself? `` He mocked whilst finally looking down at whatever ruined state you were already in. Your eyes had managed to roll back fully, your tongue being partially lolled out of your gaping mouth. Sweat droplets managed to form on your face due to the sheer amount of force his thrusts had. You nodded your head quickly in response, not being able to let out anything else except for moans of his name and moans in general, which was such a radiant sight to see for Kokushibou who knew just what to do to have you seeing stars. He himself was becoming pleasure blinded, for his slow yet rough paced was slowly becoming more rapid as more perspiration formed on his chest, forehead, arms, and lower abdomen. It was a sexy sight to say the least as groan after breathy groan came from his lips, but that quickly latched onto the side of your throat, biting the flesh - yet not enough to actually tear skin. `` Do..- Do you think I am done with you? This was just the start [Y/N]. ``
You could not conjure up a proper response, just a loud moan as you felt a hardened tip kiss against the entrance of your cervix. The feeling sent more shocks of pleasure throughout your nervous system, your breath hitching and your face scrunching up once more. `` I believe you will.. try your best!- Ngh- But what will you do.. if you do n-not succeed? ``
`` That will not happen.. rest assured. You will not know anything else but just how much of a beautiful person you are, o-okay? `` You could have sworn you heard Kokushibou out of all demons stutter on his own words. Your walls began clamping down on his cock that continued to fill your insides with each rough movement, so you felt yourself becoming closer to your climax than you had hoped.
Your chests were practically glued together from the combined sweat of your bodies as his pace never faltered, only continuing to further quicken and add on to your mind going foggy. `` I cannot have you going blank just yet, stay with me, my love. ``
His words went in one ear and out the other, but as soon as you felt the cold substance be drizzled on your chest, you gasped out his name audibly whilst having your mouth set agape even more. You tried to process one thing at a time yet before you knew it his vein covered hands gripped your breasts with such force that you arched your back into his chest even more, your breath hitching at the suddenness. `` Y-Yes I promise..! ``
Kokushibou's tongue darted to your chocolate-covered nipple first, bathing his taste receptors in the sweet substance all the while sucking greedily on the erected bud. Your moans came out more shaky each time a groan emitted from his esophagus, the vibrations transferring to your own body that just made your pleasure enhanced senses skyrocket. `` The chocolate may be sweet..- `` Kokushibou paused. `` ..But you taste sweeter. ``
His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, repeating the action of licking your chest clean that had you seeing stars at that point. The roughness of his thrusts still kissing just against your cervix sending constant tsunamis of intense pleasure throughout your entire being was starting to become mind numbing as your climax was slowly approaching. 
`` Ko-Kokushibou- ah! I'm going to.. cum-! `` You shouted out above your moans, your mouth being left agape due to the sudden pace change of force being put into the plunging of his cock going deeper and deeper inside you with each loud mewl of his name. It was driving him crazy having your nails dig further into his back that was bound to leave marks clear as day, yet he did not mind because the pain was one of the only things keeping him from losing himself in the pleasure your slick-covered walls were giving him. He merely groaned in response, nodding rapidly, not wanting to answer in coherent words in view of the fact that his tongue was still gathering any remaining chocolate on your chest, trailing the wet muscle up your neck and leaving yet another bite mark next to the one he left earlier.
`` I want you- fuck- I want you to know how beautiful you are.. inside and out..-`` Kokushibou said, his tone being more rugged than before feeling his own climax approach ever so slowly, building up to release his load within your depths. The swelling within your core would not stop growing until eventually your mind was painted white, releasing on your lover's cock and squeezing your eyes shut to truly savor the feeling of your walls being coated with your cum that continued to spasm around his cock.
Just as you were still lost in a shocked state of your orgasm, your face was suddenly gripped by two masculine hands, being forced to look at the owner in his eyes that read "Upper Moon One." `` I'm going to cum inside you, and you better be appreciative of every single drop, otherwise there will be consequences.``
You simply nodded as quickly as you could, his thrusts still not faltering. Although with one slam of his hips against yours, his seed is suddenly erupting inside you, your eyes now rolling back once more at the feeling of being filled to the brim. You felt full to say the least, since your cum was mixed with his, swelling your tummy even. A deep and breathy groan escaped Kokushibou's lips as he continued to release his cum within your aching cunt that seemed to milk him dry with each throb. 
The demon had finally stilled once his peak of pleasure had finally settled down, his body still hovering above yours as his 3 pairs of eyes could not tear themselves from your whorish expression. Your cheeks had a few tear stains, as well as your eyes being bloodshot and rolled into the back of your head, your mouth being left hanging open that had saliva dripping from your twitching lips. It was an amusing sight to say the least to Kokushibou, for seeing you in such a ruined state could instantly get his cock hard again at the thought of him being able to make you see other worlds with his length alone. His calloused hand caressed your face, a gentle action that brought you back to your senses, being able to focus on his handsome face again. 
There was a loving smile on your face that was small - but there, even though your face was practically ruined. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of his palm that you craved to feel in a gentle manner. You both had heavy breathes, trying to desperately regain oxygen after using your energy for such a scandalous act, yet the male before you used his energy to lay beside you, now turning you around so that your back is pressed against his chest and your leg raised by his other free hand. `` If you think I was done with you [Y/N], then you are sadly mistaken. I want you to remember that you are beautiful whether you think so or not. So answer me, do you believe you are beautiful? ``
`` Yes of course I do..!- ``
`` That did not sound so convincing my love, I suggest you need to be reminded again. ``
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sylverstorms · 3 years
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Miranda x Mia---- Eternal
A Ko-Fi commission I wrote for the wonderful @saltwatereulogies. Thank you so very much for the support and I hope you enjoy the fic!
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Drip. Splatter.
The first sound you’re aware of is that of the occasional waterdrop crashing onto the same humid, uneven floor you’re lying on.
The second is the sound of her voice.
“Rise and shine.” she says, somewhere off to the side. You are still too disoriented to pinpoint exactly where.
You’re not dizzy enough, though, to not immediately realize you’re trapped. The way the light behind your captor shines makes it all the more obvious, casting large shadows in the shape of your prison bars across your small, moldy cell.
“Y-you…” you struggle to talk. Your throat is too dry and your temples pound like a war drum. It feels like you’ve collided with a truck. And yet her voice commanding you to sleep is the last thing you remember.
“I haven’t formally introduced myself. Though I’m sure your friend has told you about me.”
You blink to make your vision focus yet it’s hopeless. She is but a dark blur to you –am I hallucinating or are those wings?
“My name is Miranda.”
Suddenly, that name snaps everything into focus so sharply you could get whiplash. You’re on your knees the next second, just about ready to leap at her. She’s the one. The one Chris warned you about. She may look like an angel but she is a devil.
“I don’t care who the hell you are! What do you want from me?!” you demand.
“Your cooperation in my experiments, for starters.” she says it calmly, but she is no fool to believe you’ll just agree to that, you can see it in her crystal-blue eyes.
“Ha! As if!” you retort.
“Well. That answer will change when I have Rose.” The name of your daughter makes every nerve ending in your body kick at once.
“What. Like Ethan will just hand her over to the likes of you?”
“Actually.”
A slow smirk crosses her full lips. Then their shape changes to match yours. All of her does, until you are left looking at a perfect mirror of yourself. Only, there’s no way you look quite that good inside of this shitty cell.
“He’ll hand her over to you.”
When she laughs, it is your own voice haunting your ears.
-
-
She has your daughter. She has your everything in her hands. So, she has your cooperation, as well.
Miranda doesn’t really talk when she comes to collect blood samples for whatever experiments she needs them. Your initial cries and questions were muted the second she told you the more helpful and less annoying you are, the more inclined she’ll feel to bring Rose to you for a while.
In the end, you do let yourself be her docile little lab rat.
Until you literally can’t take the silence anymore.
“Was it really… that easy?” ‘To enter my home and take my daughter’ you want to add but you can’t even get the words past your throat.
She seems to understand, though. “Effortless.” she isn’t being cocky as she says it. In fact, she seems almost surprised herself. At least, from the angle you get of her face, while she’s studying a strange rock-like substance under a microscope.
“How the hell did Ethan not figure out you aren’t me?!” That moron. He just gave your daughter to her. That clueless moron!
For a split second, you see her lip twitch in what could, perhaps, be a withheld smile. “I was there for a day, so. Seems like your husband doesn’t know you quite that well.”
Is it really fair to blame him for not knowing you, though? With the secrets you’ve kept from him? The distance? The trauma from the shared nightmare you experienced coming back to you every time you even looked at him?
God, Rose really is the only thing that kept you together, isn’t she…
It’s easy to hate the accursedly beautiful bitch outside your cell. It’s easy to blame Ethan for not even suspecting something was amiss with you for a whole damn day.
It is not so easy to blame yourself as much as you do them.
-
-
Miranda replies when you ask her things, so you ask her about herself. To your surprise, she does not shroud her motives from you.
She has lost her daughter, she tells you, and the only way to get her back is through yours. For the first time since you met her, you see emotion clearly expressed in her eyes and voice. You recognize how she longs to be with her child again.
You can understand the never-ending grief of a mother losing her offspring. You know if anything happened to Rose you would rather fling yourself off a cliff than live a life without her.
And apparently, that is what she tried to do, too. She tried to die –and discovered life instead. That is what she calls it, anyway. All you can hear as she explains is that she found –and founded— the Mold. The same one that ruined your husband and you.
One more reason to hate the psycho witch.
And yet.
When you try to reach for the rage you previously held for her, you find that it’s gone. You’re bitter, you’re exhausted, you want to cry and above everything you want to see Rose again. But you don’t loathe her as you should.
“What do you mean… the only way to get Eva back is through Rose?” you dare ask after several minutes of silence.
She turns to look at you, eyes as piercing as they are blue. “Technically, the trade is simple.” Maybe you’re losing it from the stress and lack of sleep, but you think she almost hesitates for a second. “…a life for a life.”
As soon as she speaks and the meaning of her words registers in your mind, you’re gripping at the rusty iron bars with all your might, rattling them, shouting profanities at her. You are back to hating her all over again. It’s much simpler this way.
Until… she walks over and grabs your hand over the metal. Her touch is oddly warm for such a glacial heart. You cannot tell what she does to you, but it feels like an aura flowing through your system that silences you. Calms you. You do not want to be calm.
“I wasn’t finished.” she speaks. “That is where the experiments with you come in. By running tests on your blood and Rose’s and using my DNA as a medium, during the ritual I can trick the Megamycete into giving me what I want through a form of mitosis. Essentially, cell duplication that will not override the existing vessel.”
To be honest… you lost her midway through the very first sentence. You were quite good with biology back in the day but right now, in the state you’re in, science is going right over your head.
“...Is there an English version of that.” you ask.
Her mouth curves into that almost-smile again. It would be quite gorgeous, actually, if she hadn’t kidnapped you, infiltrated your home as you and abducted your daughter.
“If the tests succeed, you get your daughter back, I get mine from cloned DNA and Mold cells.” There’s a hint of pride in her voice as she says it.
And now, assuming she’s telling the truth, you want those tests to succeed more than you want to get out of here. Her hand leaves yours and the weird calm she blasted into you dissipates with it.
“Wait. So…” Realization strikes you like a thunderclap. “So these tests are for me?”
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t say thank you, you crazy b—blonde.” You rattle the iron bars again, a tad weaker than before. She does smirk over the microscope, this time. “How likely are the tests to succeed?” you ask impatiently.
“Quite.” she replies, flat once again.
“…And if they don’t?” you hate how your voice shakes there, at the end.
She looks at you, dead in the eyes, as she answers: “I am getting my daughter back either way, Mia.”
You can’t believe it. You cannot believe you’re thinking this, but you hope the crazy bitch knows what she’s doing.
-
-
Miranda is… despicable, but she is a woman of her word.
She brings you Rose for hours at a time and in exchange you help her outside of your cell. You thought your daughter would be in a worse condition, considering who keeps her, yet she’s healthy as ever, well-fed and clean. The worst part is, she laughs every time Miranda comes close and she even reaches out for her.
“No, my darling, don’t do that.” you tell her, tucking her tighter in your arms, before the woman behind you notices what’s happening.
Except it’s too late. “Ah, I see.” Miranda speaks, coming up to you from behind. She’s tall enough to lean over your shoulder and wave at Rose, who moves both hands towards her. “A lady of taste.” the woman praises and the lightness to her voice almost makes her sound like someone else. Someone normal.
“Stop it.” You turn your child away from her. “She’s just confused because you’re lit up like a Christmas tree.” You motion with your chin at her getup.
Miranda chuckles. “What. She senses our bond. Rose feels safe with me.”
Safe with the monster who wants to sacrifice her to get her own child back. You cannot swallow that thought down. “But she’s not, is she?!” you snap.
“She is.” Miranda reverts to her cool facade, glancing down at your daughter. “I will never let anything hurt her. And when she gives me Eva back, I will make sure she grows up bathed in luxury.”
It’s the Mold, you’re sure of it.
It’s the Mold’s fault that you believe her.
-
-
You were supposed to see Rose today. Instead, Miranda comes into the cave alone, looking irritated. You start to worry. Nothing phases her without a good reason. What if—
“Where’s my daughter?!” you demand, eyes wide.
“We have a problem.” she tells you. Your blood goes cold in your veins. “A problem named Ethan Winters.”
“Ethan?” you gasp.
“He is trying to get Rose back and according to reports from the Lords under me, he cannot be killed. His hand got cut off and he just reattached it. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” she’s certain that you know. You can see it in her steely eyes.
“I— why would I—”
“Before you think to lie to me, hear something else. I bear good news, as well.” Miranda says. “I have succeeded in my experiments. During the ritual, I can guarantee Rose will remain unharmed and unchanged.” the edge of her lip curls up as she delivers the news. You almost cry from the sheer relief.
You almost leap forward and hug her, yet you remember who she is and that she caused this mess in the first place.
“But my conditions have changed.” her voice is a sword that cuts off your happiness just like that. You knew it was too good to be true. “For me to save Rose, you will tell me how to permanently get rid of Ethan Winters.”
…What?
She wants you to… trade your daughter for your husband? How the hell can I do that?!
“He has ruined too much for me to let him walk away happily now.” Her jaw is tight enough to sprout new lines on her flawless face. She wants him dead and she always gets what she wants. “He has killed colleagues of mine. Spat in the face of a damn-near god. I will have his head.”
The corners of your eyes sting with welling tears. Your body is far more honest than you in making a decision. Nobody is too important to sacrifice when it comes to your daughter. Not yourself. Not Ethan. And Miranda knows this better than anybody else. You loathe how she knows.
“Give him to me, Mia. And in a few days this whole thing will be over.” she continues in a significantly softer tone, getting closer to you. Her wings shift, the very edge of black feathers brushing your arms.
“You want me to aid in killing the father of my child?!” you sob, grabbing at her clothes. You’d expect her to shove you away, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t even blink.
“You have been so cooperative and so brave.” she soothes, gold-taloned fingers coming underneath your chin. “Make one last sacrifice for me. Help me murder Ethan so Rose can live. Help me and I vow to be her eternal guardian angel. Hers and yours.”
She could just force the answer out of you. She’s touching you and you know she has that power. But she doesn’t do it and it’s far worse this way. She wants it to be your choice.
You look away from Miranda’s icy eyes and her promises of everything.
And you tell her.
-
-
You do not ask about Ethan. All that’s in your mind is the ceremony.
For the entire morning, you cannot breathe. You trace notes in her lab and pace around until you literally feel like you’ll explode—
And then Miranda comes in. She is radiant, smiling from ear to ear, glowing with pure joy. She looks every part the goddess she pretends to be. The golden circle usually adorning her back is gone, her long blonde hair is left free to flow like fine strands of silk past her square shoulders.
“It is done!” she tells you, a hand extended for you to take. “Come. I’ll take you to Rose and you will be the first to meet Eva.”
Her hand is warm when it closes around yours. Black wings shroud you both. There is a gravitational pull around you that’s so intense you shut your eyes and grab onto her biceps for dear life.
“You can look, now.” she speaks once the world is stable again. Your gut is churning, yet every bit of exhaustion and discomfort vanish the second you see Rose. She is safe within the first of the two golden cribs in front of you, bathed by the soft sunlight that disperses across the luxurious, dark-tiled chamber you’re in.
You run towards her, lifting your daughter in your arms and kissing her forehead over and over. She laughs at you, blue eyes crinkled. My love. My everything, you think. Everything was worth it for this moment. And you would do it all again, to ensure her safety.
Miranda’s steps, regal and authoritative, come to a stop near the other crib. You lean closer, take a look… to see another little angel there, sleeping peacefully. She resembles Rose, yet she resembles Miranda, too.
“Oh my God.” you breathe. “You really did it.”
“I did it and you and Rose made it possible, Mia.” she says. Your child extends a tiny hand towards her. She removes one of her claws and lets her finger be taken in your baby’s grip. “You don’t have to leave. She loves me already.” A proud smile curves her lips.
You hate how it looks like a sunrise.
You hate it even more that you understand why Rose is so charmed.
“Her mom can grow to love me, too.” Crystal eyes look into your own. “There is no place safer than by my side. Stay and we will raise them together. You won’t have to fear disease or death with me. You and Rose will have every little thing you could ever want. Forever.”
You don’t want your child to be co-patented by this selfish megalomaniac, who is the killer of her father. But. Then you stop to consider what you have been through until now. Nightmare after nightmare; this vicious cycle does not look like it will be broken. One thing or another will haunt you and hunt you wherever you go. You don’t want that life for Rose.
You won’t accept that life for Rose.
“…we will stay. But you can forget that part about me growing any fonder of you than I am now.”
Miranda nods, but something in her expression is so damn cocky you want to smack her. “Oh, what’s that, Rose? You can tell your mother is lying, too? My genius girl.”
Your jaw drops. She is my genius girl!
Miranda then touches your chin and tilts it up. You don’t want to be any closer to the gorgeous fucking witch, but when she stops there, hovering just over your mouth for a skipped heartbeat, looking down at you with those crystalline eyes of hers, you’re paralyzed.
Her lips slide over your own for just one slick, hot second. When she pulls back, she caresses Rose’s cheek and winks at you.
“I hate you.” you say, yet it holds no real bite. God, you’re exhausted.
“That’s alright. We have all the time in the world to change that.”
210 notes · View notes
naminethewriter · 3 years
Text
America’s Favourite Gameshow!!
Day 2 and I’m still on track! It’s way too late though and I hope I get done with the other prompts sometime before 12am 😴 Anyway, have fun with this silly little fluff story 💙💚🥰 @intrulogicalweek2021
Here on Ao3
Masterpost | Intrulogical Week 2021 Masterpost
Characters: Remus, Logan
Relationship: romantic Intrulogical
Rating: G
Words: 1,480
Summary:  Logan just wanted to make sure his boyfriend ate something. Remus wants entertainment more.
Logan walked along the halls of Remus’ castle in search of his boyfriend who had run off after breakfast to continue some project of his. Now, hours later, Logan wanted to ensure that he had eaten since then because while they didn’t require to eat, considering they were just figments of Thomas’ overactive subconscious, it had proven to be beneficial to their wellbeing as well as Thomas’. It had taken Logan almost a year of research to come to that conclusion but it had been well worth the effort.
 But both sides of Creativity were prone to forgetting the passage of time while working on one of their passion projects, hence Logan’s decision to check on Remus this afternoon. He had already looked through most of the grounds and was now on his way up into a tower. It was pretty much separated from the rest of the castle and nobody but Logan and the Duke himself had access and Remus spend a lot of time up there doing whatever he wants without disturbance. The only reason that Logan had put off checking there first is because he disliked the long, long staircase leading up. About three fourth of the way up, Logan could hear cluttering sounds, so it seemed reasonable to assume his search would soon be over.
After another five minutes of climbing he finally reached the top, only one door separating him from whatever mess Remus has caused this time. Logan took a few deep breaths before pushing it open.
 Pure Chaos laid before him. He couldn’t even begin to describe it. Furniture overturned and broken. Paint or something colourful had gotten everywhere. Glass shards, papers, confetti, everything scattered randomly around the room and Remus in the middle of it.
 Logan didn’t even attempt going any further in. Instead he called out to his boyfriend who turned to face so fast, his head rotated more than it should with a sickening crack.
 “Lolo!” he grinned, pulling his head back into the right position before climbing over the rubble to the door. As soon as he got into touching distance he wrapped himself around Logan in a tight hug. His boyfriend just patted his arm until he let go. “What brings you here, starshine? You horny?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Logan to roll his eyes.
 “No Remus, I am not horny. I simply came to check on you since I haven’t seen you since breakfast.”
 “Ah shit, is it already evening? Damn time flies when you’re busy, huh.”
 “What were you doing in the first place? This entire room is a mess.” Logan immediately regretted asking when he saw the smile spreading across his boyfriend’s face. “No, Remus, please-“
 Too late.
 Remus snapped and suddenly there was a spotlight on the two of them, two more swinging across the room that was now notably darker. Some kind of jingle started playing and an invisible audience started applauding. Remus, now in a suit, brought a microphone to his mouth.
 “Ladies and Gentlemen! You have waited patiently and now it is finally time to play America’s favourite gameshow! It’s” – the fake audience yelled along the next words –
 “Art or Science!”
 “The rules are simple,” Remus continued alone. “Our returning champion, Logan ‘Logic’ Sanders, has five minutes to survey the room and then he has to decide: did I cause this chaos in the name of Art or Science! He is allowed to ask me three things to specify, not one hint more. Our contestant has a success rate of 66% so far and I’m sure we are all curious to see the result of our fourth episode of-!” Remus held the mic away from him and again the imaginary audience shouted:
 “Art or Science!”
 “Now, Logan. Are you ready to start?” Remus held out the mic to Logan this time who groaned and levelled him with an unimpressed glare.
 “Is this really necessary, Cephy?” Remus laughed and threw his arms open.
 “Of course not, but it’s fun so we’re doing it!” Logan massaged his temple. Ever since Thomas had taken to binge watching SNL sketches on YouTube, Remus had been practically enthralled with their game show parodies. Especially if Bill Hader (Remus’ favourite cast member) played the host. His top spot shifted between ‘What’s that Name?’ and ‘Who’s on Top’ every five minutes and Logan couldn’t deny that the chaos of those concepts fit Remus very well, so it should be no surprise that he thought of his own little show. It just annoyed Logan that he was the only contestant ever having to deal with it.
 Well, at least it was short. He could play along for five minutes.
 “Fine, start the clock.” Remus cheered, as did the audience, and the light returned to how it was before, with the entire room evenly lit.
 “As always, please don’t hesitate to give us play-by-play commentary on your thought process, Sherlock,” Remus giggled and Logan nodded absentmindedly, already scanning the room for clues. He took the first minute to simply think and his boyfriend let him but Logan knew he would grow impatient eventually.
 “Clearly there is both art supplies as well as lab equipment present and I have witnessed you using both for the others intended purpose, so that does not provide any essential hints. The furniture is mostly broken and out of place. Especially that table that seems to be hanging out the window and only hangs on with one leg anchored inside. The glass was most likely smashed by said table. This could point to a possible explosion that resulted after a failed experiment, favouring science as its cause. Though again, I have seen you set off an explosion to create an art piece of yours so it is not concrete proof either.” Remus nodded along to his descriptions and a spotlight also shone on the areas he talked about.
 “Now for my first question, I would like you to confirm whether the dark red substance in that corner is blood or not.”
 “It’s not, though I tried my best to get it to smell the same.” Logan nodded, again falling silent for a moment to think. The quiet was broken by a croak and something moved though it was hidden enough that Logan couldn’t quite make it out.
 “You used live specimen. Not unheard off for your art but more common with experiments. Especially frogs.”
 “Toads, not frogs actually.”
 “I can tell apart a frog croaking and toad doing the same, Remus. That sound was a frog.”
 “Nah, you see, I like how toads look better but frogs sound more appealing, so I made a toad that croaked like a frog.”
 “Fascinating. Could you show it to me later?”
 “Sure! Also that counts as your second questions.” Logan glared at his boyfriend for a moment but relented.
 “Fine.” He continued to point out other details about the room and whether they pointed towards art or science and soon Remus announced that he had only 30 seconds left. Logan contemplated in his head and came to a decision at the same moment Remus called:
 “Time! Five minutes are up, Ladies and Gentlemen! Now Logan, give us your answer, please!” The room had darkened once again, with a spotlight on Logan and Remus and two others moving around the room.
 “I say it’s art.”
 “Is that your final answer?”
 “Yes, Remus, please do not drag this out any longer.”
 “Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand around before getting back into character. “His answer is locked in! Now let’s see if he’s right. Is it art?” A drumroll played and then a bang. Even more confetti poured out of the ceiling, along with balloons, the normal, oval ones and those long ones with two of the former tied to one of the latter (I’m sure you can guess what that symbolises, we’re talking about Remus here after all).
 “Coooooooorrrreeeeccccctttt!” Applause roared and Remus threw an arm around his boyfriend, pulling him close. “Another win for our returning champion! With this his success rate is now at 75%! How are you feeling, are you proud?” He held out the mic to Logan, who rolled his eyes.
 “I am alright, now please wrap this up.” Remus giggled but complied.
 “That was it for this episode of-“
 “Art or Science!”
 “See you next time, folks!” And with another snap, things returned to normal, the lights, the sounds and Remus’ outfit. “Wasn’t that fun, starlight?”
 “It was fine, Remus.”
 “You just don’t like admitting it~”
 “No matter, that is not what I came up here for anyway.”
 “Oh yeah, why did you come here?”
 “To ask if you have eaten since breakfast.”
 “Oh, rotten shit, I forgot.”
 “I thought as much. Come on, I secured you some leftovers from lunch and the rest of the hot sauce.”
 “You are the best, moonlight.”
42 notes · View notes
natedogx15 · 2 years
Text
Miraculous Descendent Chapter 4: Hit The Rooks
Previous Chapter
Ivan angrily walks down the hall towards the principal's office. He slams the door open to see a stout man in his early-to-middle fifties.
The man had fair skin, a bald head, bushy black eyebrows, brown eyes, and a long grey beard. The man's beard seemed to go around the entirety of his head and connect with hair on the back of it.
The man wore a brown business suit over a white dress shirt and a chestnut brown tie. The man also wore dark brown pants and grayish tangelo loafers.
The principal looks at him, both startled and angry. He then tells Ivan.
"That is no way to open a door, young man. I want you to close that door and open it again properly this time."
Ivan looks at him in anger and slams the door shut. Much to the principal's anger. Before Ivan can open the door again, though, the Akuma butterfly lands on the note Ivan held in his hand from Kim. The outline of a butterfly appears over his face.
"Stoneheart, I am Hawkmoth. You are dealing with a great injustice, getting in trouble without even having the chance to defend yourself. I am here to offer you the chance to have that justice, one way or another. However, this chance is not free. I want you to help me by causing chaos around the city of Paris until certain people arrive." Hawkmoth tells him in his head.
Ivan gains an evil smile on his face.
"Yes, Hawkmoth."
Suddenly, a black substance started to emit from and cover Ivan. Once it disappeared, Ivan was no longer the person under it.
The principal tapped his foot impatiently. Finally, he stands up and walks towards his door.
"That young man better not have just left." The principal said to himself.
He opens the door right as a roar echoes throughout the school. The sheer volume and power behind it seem to shake the school. When the principal regains himself, he sees a large, golem-like creature in front of him. The golem looms over him with glowing yellow eyes.
The principal, in shock, slowly closes the door. Then when he regains himself again, he quickly runs under his desk and pulls out his phone. As he goes for his desk, Stoneheart rips off the door. Stoneheart then yells in a booming voice.
"IS THAT BETTER!"
Stoneheart sees the principal dive under his desk but doesn't seem to care. He's just thrashing around, destroying the office.
"Hello, this is Mr. Damocles, the principal of lycée Françoise Dupont." The principal says into his phone.
"What seems to be your emergency?" The operator questions.
"RAWR!" Stoneheart exclaims for the operator to hear.
"I'll send units over right away." The operator tells him.
"Have them bring the army as well." Mr. Damcoles desperately tells her.
The noise outside has caused both students and faculty to leave their classrooms. Upon seeing Stoneheart, there was an air of shock between the viewers. However, when that shock ends, the teachers quickly order the students back into their classrooms for safety.
"Alright, everyone. I know it's your first day, but I want everyone under their desks until the commotion outside settles." Miss Bustier quickly tells them.
The students quickly do what they're told and get under their desks. Some looked annoyed, while others looked worried.
"What is happening outside?" Marinette whispers to Nate.
"It sounds like an animal is roaming around destroying things," Nate whispers back.
The sounds outside start getting louder. They're like steps but heavier. Before everyone in the room knows it, the door at the front of the class breaks, and Stoneheart enters the class.
"KIM!" Stoneheart shouts.
Said boy gains a look of pure terror without even seeing who calls his name. Max also gains a worried look for his friend.
"COME OUT HERE, YOU COWARD!" Stoneheart shouts.
He picks up Nino's desk, scaring the boy, and throws it out the window. Nino quickly scrambles and runs out of the classroom. Every student clams up upon hearing this display of power. Their imaginations were running wild. Kim was the worst of the group. Even a startled Miss Bustier gains a fearful look having seen that display of power.
Against their better judgment, a couple of kids decided to peek over their hiding positions. One of those people was Nate. As soon as Nate lays eyes on Stoneheart, his mouth can't help but blurt out.
"Kim, what the fuck did you do to get a giant golem after you?"
As soon as Nate says this, he covers his mouth. Although, it was already too late.
Stoneheart turns his attention to Nate and gives him a deadly glare. He wasn't the only one looking at Nate, though. Marinette gave Nate a look of worry from under the table.
Stoneheart stomps towards Nate and Marinette's desk and shouts.
"DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ME?"
Nate doesn't say anything in fear. He keeps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head no.
As this was happening, Max whispered to Kim.
"You need to leave now while they're distracted."
"What? How?" Kim asks.
"Crawl down the stairs and sneak out," Max tells him.
Kim nods and does that. He slowly makes his way down the stairs on his hands and knees. Once at the final step, he gets on his legs and slowly creeps towards the exit behind Stoneheart.
Nate sees him out of the corner of his eye and tries to regain control of himself.
"I-I just asked what K-Kim did to you to h-have you after him?" Nate shakily asks.
"YOU SHOULD KNOW YOU WERE IN THE ROOM WHEN I GOT IN TROUBLE!" Stoneheart yells.
A flash of realization happens for those in the class.
"I-Ivan?" Nate shakily asks.
"THAT'S RIGHT!" Stoneheart tells him.
Kim manages to make it to the doorway. Unfortunately, the floor under him creaks, alerting Stoneheart.
Stoneheart turns around to see Kim and shouts.
"KIM!"
Kim immediately books it away from the classroom and towards the stairs. Stoneheart gives chase. When Kim got to the stairs, he immediately slid down the railing. However, he didn't stop as Stoneheart continued to chase him.
Nate breathed a sigh of relief and fell into his chair with ragged breath.
"Oh, sweet lord, I felt my life flash before my eyes." He tiredly says to no one in particular.
"What was it like?" Juleka asks.
She was the only one not to get too freaked out. After the initial shock, she seemed to grin at Stoneheart. Rose even heard her compliment him.
"There were a lot of video games, cartoons, and anime. I only just realized how much of a nerd I am." Nate tells her while staying in the same position.
"So you finally realized how much of a loser you are?" Chloe asks with a smirk.
She freaked out about the golem that broke into her class, but she wasn't about to pass up a chance to insult the rich boy.
"I'm not even in the mood to get into an argument about nerds not being losers." Nate states.
"Kim, what the fuck did you do to get a giant golem after you?" Marinette asks him with a raised eyebrow.
"I have an automated mouth Marinette. Things come out of it before I even think about it." Nate raises his head to look at her as he says this.
"How are you staying so calm about this? Our classmate just got turned into a monster and is trying to kill Kim!" Mylene shouts at them.
"I just got threatened by a golem and thought I was going to die. I am too exhausted to be freaking out right now." Nate tells her.
"It was cool getting to see a monster up close." Juleka states.
"Hey, he's gone and not after me." Chloe shrugs before pulling out a compact to check herself.
"I honestly do not know how I'm staying so calm about this," Marinette said.
Her hands were shaking in fear at what she heard. She didn't even see Stoneheart but from the sounds of it. He was dangerous. Suddenly, her phone began ringing. When she checked, she saw it was Tom. She answers it to hear Tom's worried voice.
"Marinette, are you and Nathan okay? I heard a monster just left your school chasing after a student there." Tom says all of this in a worried tone.
"I'm okay, Tom. Nate is a little shaken right now, but he's fine too." Marinette tells her stepdad.
She could hear Tom sigh in relief when he heard that. That couldn't help but make her smile.
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. I want you both to please get home and stay in your rooms while the police and I try to sort this out." Tom tells her.
"Sure, Tom. Nate and I will rush over there now." Marinette tells him.
"Alright, stay safe, you two," Tom tells them before hanging up.
Marinette felt like he wanted to say something else but wasn't sure. She turns towards Nate. However, she sees Alya heading down the stairs with a grin behind him.
"What are you doing?" Marinette asks.
Alya looks at her with an excited grin.
"Are you kidding? Wherever there is a supervillain, there will always be a superhero. I want to see who rises up to defeat them." Alya tells her in an excited tone.
"Alya, that is extremely dangerous. My dad is a police officer and always told me he hopes Paris never has a supervillain. You shouldn't go and hope someone other than the police will come to try and stop them." Sabrina tells her seriously as she stands in Alya's way.
"Don't worry; I'll be fine. I know how these situations work. I've researched dozens of superhero cases, and they all have the same beginning. Someone rises when people are in danger." Alya said with a grin as she pushed her aside.
She then runs out the door, but Sabrina chases after her.
"Alya, wait, it's too dangerous!" Sabrina calls in worry as she chases after Alya.
Chloe scoffs when she sees Sabrina go after Alya.
"What a goodie-two-shoes. Why would someone bother to chase after an idiot when they wanna get themselves killed?" Chloe mutters as she leaves.
"Well, this has been an eventful first day. Why don't you all head home and stay inside for a while? I think school is going to be canceled for the next few days until we better understand what's going on." Miss Bustier tells her students.
Everyone nods and walks out, but Max seems to rush out of the room. Marinette and a less exhausted Nate are the last ones out of the room. However, Nate stopped after something occurred to him.
"Crap," Nate said in a low tone.
Marinette looks at him in confusion, and Nate looks at her with eyes showing he had an idea.
"Do you think this has something to do with your magic box?" Nate asks.
Marinette's eyes widen in realization, and without another word, both bolt straight for the hotel.
"Do you think it was actually because of that?" Marinette asks.
"It's the only thing I can think of right now. Unless someone else messed with something that was magic." Nate told her as they rushed towards the hotel.
"Oh, I hope we did not unleash some kind of curse," Marinette mutters.
While the cousins ran to the hotel, Adrien stared at his TV in shock. Plagg was floating next to him with a look of interest. Right now, they were watching Stoneheart fight police officers.
A large man in a police uniform was leading the charge. He had fair skin, orange hair, and greenish-blue eyes.
"Get ready." The officer orders several officers who stood behind their cars with guns brandished on Stoneheart.
"Fire!" The man shouts.
The police fired upon Stoneheart, but the bullets had no positive effect. Not only were they not working, but they also seemed to be making Stoneheart grow in size.
"Plagg, what's happening?" Adrien asks in worry.
"It looks like either Nooroo or Duusu found a holder who wants to use their power to cause havoc. Not a bad Champion for their first time." Plagg says as he watches Stoneheart.
"Why are you so calm about this?" Adrien asks.
"Because Kid, this is what we Kwami do. We'll pick a human or humans and give them our powers. Then we train them to become stronger with those powers." Plagg states with a shrug.
"Even if it causes this?" Adrien asks.
"Yep. It's the way we decided on. We won't directly get involved with our powers, but we will give humans them and see what they do." Plagg tells him with a shrug.
He then flies straight in front of Adrien's face.
"Now, what are you going to do? Are you just going to let people die? Or will you disobey your father?" Plagg asks.
Adrien stares at the screen, unsure of what to do. He watches Stoneheart continue his rampage, the police incapable of doing anything.
He watches as Stoneheart throws a car at some of the police. They managed to get out of the way, but one got injured doing so. Adrien bit his bottom lip as he watched the fight go on.
"They do need help, and I have the power of destruction. I'm sure father and Nathalie are distracted as well by this." Adrien thought to himself.
Adrien takes a deep breath before nodding to himself.
"Okay, okay, it's just one time. You can do this and not get in trouble with your father." Adrien tells himself.
"So, are you ready, Kid?" Plagg asks.
"Yeah, yeah, let's do it, Plagg," Adrien tells the Kwami with a determined look.
"You know the phrase." Plagg smirks.
"Right, Plagg, claws out," Adrien says.
Plagg flew into the ring, and Adrien's super suit was back on him.
Adrien ran towards the window but froze just before opening it. Adrien takes a deep breath before his eyes shine with determination.
"People need help, Adrien; this isn't the time to worry about your father."
With that, Adrien opens his window and jumps out.
Marinette and Nate make it to the hotel and run past Jean-Yves. As they did, Nate shouted.
"Uncle Tom already told us we'll be hiding in Marinette's closet!"
Jean-Yves can only nod in confirmation before the two get to an elevator.
"Come on, come on, come on," Marinette mutters as she keeps pressing the elevator button.
"It's not going to come down faster if you press the button." Nate deadpans.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Marinette turns and asks him with a glare.
"Try to use this time to calm down so we can both try to keep a level head while coming up with a plan. I know that's what I'm trying." Nate explains.
"Well then, how are you staying calm?" Marinette asks.
"I'm not. Right now, I'm panicking on the inside while hoping that Alya's prediction will come true." Nate tells her in a slightly worried tone.
The elevator arrives, and the two cousins quickly get in. Nate presses the button to their floor. Once the door closes, the two continue their conversation.
"What do you think the chances are that that will come true?" Marinette asks in a slightly hopeful tone.
"Oh, a very high chance depending on what you and Plagg's Chosen choose." A new, slightly squeaky voice states.
Both cousins look at each other wide-eyed before looking around the elevator.
"I did not say that?" Nate said in a slightly panicked tone.
"I know," Marinette tells him in a slightly scared tone.
"I did." The voice said between them.
The two turn back to each other to see the red creature from the earrings floating between them.
"Ahh/Oh crap!" Both cousins scream and fall backwards.
The creature smiles before flying over to Marinette. Marinette could now see the creature was holding the earrings from her family puzzle box.
"Hello, Young One. My name is Tikki, and I am your Kwami." Tikki states with a smile.
"Bug, mouse, a flying bug-mouse is talking to me right now, Nate." Marinette lightly screams.
The elevator opens, but Nate quickly stands up and presses the close button.
"I am seeing it too, Marinette." Nate turns to her as he says this.
Tikki only looks down at Marinette with a slight giggle.
"I see you're surprised to see me. I guess this time has less magic around if that was both of your reactions." Tikki giggled out.
Next Chapter
9 notes · View notes
samanthadalton · 4 years
Text
Star crossed lovers (au) part 3
pairings: poppy x mc (bea)
warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide
reader discretion is advised
taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere (if you wanna be added or taken off just let me know😊)
(i had a huge writer’s block and im getting back into writing more often so this chapter is pretty short but next chapter will definitely be longer) 
word count: 3.3k 
part 1: part 2: 
The make up 
After the never ending nightmare provided by Chloe and her idiotic clique, Bea’s reputation at Belvoire couldn’t possibly be worse. Everywhere she went she was met with stares, or laughter, and some students would even go as far as to catcall her or demand a dance or two. Never so badly did Bea wish she could be invisible but alas it felt as if the world was against her even more and she couldn’t bring herself to find comfort in the person she loves the most, Poppy. After feeling heartbroken from Poppy’s actions, or lack of, Bea had been busying herself over the last couple of days so she wouldn’t have to see the blonde. 
It didn’t help that Poppy was constantly blowing up Bea’s phone almost every second, not knowing why the brunette was ignoring her. It wasn’t until cheer/volleyball practice on Thursday that the blonde managed to steal a moment alone with her girlfriend after waiting for the girls to leave the locker room and then making the excuse she needed to find her speaker for practice and pulling an unsuspecting Bea to the back of the locker room. 
“Poppy what the hell, let go. I have to be on time for practice since I missed practice on Tuesday because of work.” Bea’s tone is slightly agitated as she tries to shake out of Poppy’s ironclad grip but the unwavering blonde just tightens it embedding the shape of her slender fingers on the brunette’s arm. 
“Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me,” her voice is quiet, as she tries to catch Bea’s eyes searching for an answer.  
Bea defeatedly sighs and faces the girl, her head slightly tilted down to look the blonde directly in her eyes, “You know why Pops.” Poppy’s grip slightly loosens up and Bea takes advantage and shakes her arm out of her grasp and sits on the bench in the corner with her head between her hands. “After what happened on Monday, I can barely walk through school without some asshole making a comment or giving me a weird look. I feel so… violated.” Her voice was low but soft like she was tired of it all. 
Poppy wasn’t used to seeing Bea so vulnerable… so broken, usually when something like this happened at school Bea would reassure Poppy that she was okay and that Chloe’s words couldn’t hurt her. Only this time, it wasn’t just words, they publicly humiliated her girlfriend, and Poppy had never felt so powerless, as she watched her girlfriend on the brink of tears, fists balled up, but she couldn’t bring herself to move, to speak, all she could do was watch. Until Veronica broke out of her own faze and moved towards the brunette and tell everyone off. In the back of Poppy’s mind she knew that she should’ve been the one to defend her girlfriend’s honour, that she should’ve been the one by her side, not just this once but all the other times before, but her fears of everyone finding out the truth prohibited her from supporting her girlfriend, that damned fear that everyone would find out they were together which could be social suicide. For her career obviously, not her friends, they could eventually learn to love Bea, right?
Poppy pushes all thoughts from her mind and sits down next to a crestfallen Bea who’s breaths are becoming quicker, hands still wrapped tightly against her head. Poppy reaches over and wraps the girl in a one armed hug hoping the brunette doesn’t pull away, and feels a wave of relief when Bea nestles her head in the crook of the blonde’s neck and begins to regain her breathing. 
“Poppy… why didn’t you say anything?” Bea’s voice was low, slightly muffled as she spoke into the blonde’s neck, if she wasn’t nestled in Poppy’s embrace Poppy would’ve missed the question altogether.
Poppy places her chin above the girl’s head and sighes and as she opens her mouth to answer, she realises that she doesn’t have an answer, or at least one that would satisfy both herself and Bea. Instead she stays silent, though her deafening silence is enough for Bea to know that neither of them had an answer. Bea pulls away from Poppy and pushes herself away from her on the bench leaving some distance between themselves, in more ways than one. 
“I… see..” her voice is strained, as she battles with the tears that threaten her eyes, on the brink of exposing her hurt. 
“So what do we do now? Bea.. I…I miss you so much,” Poppy murmurs, her voice slightly chokes as she apprehensively fiddles her fingers together. 
Bea’s nostrils flare slightly as she grips the bench before using her force to push herself off to face the petite girl, anger flashing across all her features, she involuntarily raises her voice, “You think that this has been easy for me, Pops? It’s literally breaking my heart because I can’t talk to you about this,” her voice cracks slightly but she quickly masks it by clearing her throat and looking away. 
Poppy jumps up from her seat and tries to grab Bea’s wrist to turn her around to face her and Bea pulls out of her grasp and moves towards the front of the locker room, Bea’s tone almost pleading as she looks at Poppy with sorrow in her eyes, the angered tone replaced with a softer one “just..give me some space Poppy, I just can’t really be around you right now.” Poppy tries to intercept and just as she opens her mouth Bea puts up a hand to stop her, “seriously Pops, please. After what you and your friends did I just can’t be around you right now.”
Poppy feels anger flaring up inside of her as she scrunches up her face and runs a hand through her hair, “Me?’ she points to herself, losing control of her voice raising it, ‘What the hell did I do? I didn’t even kno-”
Bea practically screams her whole face turning red as tiny specks of saliva leave her mouth as she shouts, “It’s what you didn’t do! You watched them humiliate me and you didn’t do anything! I thought my girlfriend was supposed to support me but maybe I was wrong.” With that she turns and walks out of the locker room leaving behind a broken hearted Poppy who just falters at the harsh reality of Bea’s words. 
Poppy sits down on the bench, alone, thoughts running wild through her mind. She doesn’t care about the fact that the girls are probably waiting for her at cheer practice, her heart just hurts too much. She sits in silence until the sounds of heavy footsteps interrupt her thoughts, she looks up hoping it’s Bea but feels dejected when she sees a hint of grey-ish ombre hair. 
“Poppy what the hell? We’re all waiting for you to tell us what to do.” Veronica tone impatient and she stands in front of the blonde with a hand on her hip, eyebrows raised. Poppy just hums non committedly, earning a frown from Veronica who in turn, proceeds to grab the girl by her arm to lift her off the bench, pulling Poppy from her reverie. 
“Ow, chill V- what the hell” Poppy rubs at the spot which the ombre-haired girl just grabbed and pushes her slightly back, “Can’t I just take like 5 minutes to myself?” 
Veronica has known Poppy long enough to know that something is on her mind since the blonde has a pretty clear track record for when it comes to showing up to practice on time, she sighs and cups Poppy’s cheeks staring directly into her eyes, “Now are you gonna tell me what’s up or are you gonna waste all of our time pretending you’re okay?” 
“I’m fine V,” she moves towards the entrance of the locker room but is quickly pulled back by Veronica who knits her eyebrows together, features looking downcast. 
“P, I’ve known you long enough to know something’s up, tell me.” 
Poppy bites her lips her gaze drifts to the ground and she lets out an annoyed sigh, “I finally spoke to Bea” 
Veronica perks up a little, “that’s good right?”
Poppy responds with a shake of her head obtaining a look of disapproval from the girl, “what happened when you guys talked?”
“She practically blamed me for what happened on monday, I mean how was I supposed to know that Chloe would do something so cruel? I didn’t think she had the brain cells to even come up with something like that.” 
“What the hell?! It wasn’t your fault, do you want me to talk to Bea?” Veronica’s protectiveness bursts out as she awaits Poppy's answer. 
‘No, I-, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean she’s right.’ Veronica sits down on the bench and pats the space next to her and Poppy obliges and sits down. “Bea was mad because I didn’t do anything, and she has every right to be mad. I mean, am I a shitty girlfriend?” She looks over to Veronica praying that she holds the answer to her question. 
Veronica wraps her arm around Poppy and sighs before speaking, “Do you know why I got involved and stood up for Bea?”
“So my girlfriend could hate my guts because it should’ve been me?” 
Veronica exasperates a little, lightly slapping Poppy’s back, “No idiot, I did it for you.” Poppy grimaces as she waits for Veronica to continue. Seeing that she isn’t going to interrupt Veronica carries on speaking, “I saw your face when you realised what they were doing to Bea, and I know that you were feeling conflicted. I mean I wouldn’t want to be in your place, having a girlfriend that no one can know about because our friends hate her because she’s part of the working class or whatever. Or a homophobic dad who has extremely high expectations and expects you to be the best of the best because he thinks it’s what your mom would’ve wanted.” If Veronica’s known for one thing, it's her bluntness. Her cold hard deliverance of the truth stunned Poppy, who for the first time does not have the words as reality dawns on her. 
“... You’re right,” Poppy eyes frantically move side to side as she reflects on the past and realises that Bea has had to endure a lot of crap from her friends over the past couple of years, and she berates herself for thinking that her girlfriend could handle it on her own. She groans into Veronica’s shoulder, “God I’m such an idiot… I've been expecting Bea to just be okay with all the verbal abuse and I’ve never said anything to Chloe, I just let it all happen.” She jumps to her feet, suddenly feeling resolved, she looks down at Veronica who just blankly stares at Poppy hoping for an answer for her sudden awakening. “I know what I have to do” and with that she runs out of the locker room ignoring Veronica as she calls out to her. 
Poppy moves with determination as she heads over to the hall where volleyball practice takes place and before she opens the door she peeks her head though the window and sees a disheartened Bea running laps as Chloe barks out orders to the rest of her teammates. 
She throws the doors open and charges towards Chloe who notices a furious Poppy moving towards her and breaks out into a smile, “Hey P, aren’t you supposed to be at prac-” Poppy practically slams Chloe into the wall and practice comes to a halt as all the girls, including Bea watch the ordeal unfold. “Owww, what the hell” Chloe tries to move from Poppy’s hold as her back is flat against the wall but the shorter girl filled with anger and adrenaline rams the girl back into the wall. 
“That crap you pulled on Monday wasn’t cool and you’re not gonna bother Bea or speak about her mom again. Otherwise you’re going to regret it.” Poppy’s eyes bore into Chloe’s, her tone threatening but low, only meant for the blue-eyed girl to hear. 
Chloe’s temper flares as she looks over Poppy’s shoulder to see a confused Bea watching the two girls with a frown and in the moment she manages to shove Poppy back and overemphasises her height against the strawberry blonde, keeping her posture straight and her head bent slightly to look down at her, “So what? Because you’re lab partners you guys are all buddy buddy? Who gives a shit about that tramp? What you’re not going to do Poppy is walk into practice and try to embarrass me in front of my team.” Chloe’s voice echoes throughout the hall as she struggles to keep her temper under control. 
Poppy’s somewhat startled by Chloe’s outburst but maintains her stoic expression and leans in to whisper, “I could end your life Chloe, don’t test me.” She looks down at Chloe’s hands to see them shaking as they’re balled up into fists, she knows the girl would never touch a hair on her head but she also doesn’t want to escalate the situation any further in case the fallout is bad for Bea. Well, there’s just one more card for her to play, she sighs and rubs her forehead with one hand as she reaches out and clasps one of Chloe’s fists with her other, “I don’t want you talking about Bea’s mom because at least she has one, no matter how shitty she may be.” 
All the colour drains from Chloe’s face as her body relaxes and she looks more embarrassed than anything else, using her dead mom as bait for no one to find out about her and Bea? She’ll take that opportunity. 
Chloe simply splutters struggling to find the words, so she just wraps her arms around Poppy and mumbles into Poppy’s ear, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how much that would’ve affected you.”
Poppy rolls her eyes slightly as she knows that Chloe’s sincerity is only for her and not Bea but she releases herself from Chloe’s embrace and places a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have barged in here during practice but it was eating me up inside and I just had to say something.” Chloe aggressively nods along to each and every one of Poppy’s words and her lips form a small smile, which Poppy reciprocates. 
“Well, umm I should get back to practice and so should you, I’ll tell the guys as well to stop too” 
Poppy genuinely smiles at the girl and gives her a small thank you before turning around to leave the gym. Her eyes catch Bea’s and she crinkles her eyes a little, giving a small smile before leaving the gym to go to practice in the field. 
……
After a couple of gruelling hours of practice Poppy and the rest of the cheerleaders all shower and change before forming a small semicircle around the team captain. Poppy’s gaze shifts between every girl before landing on Veronica’s who gives her a wink. “Great practice today girls, remember that we need to be in top shape for the first football game against Hearst in two weeks.” She claps her hands together as all eyes are entranced on her, “I’m sorry I was late to practice so you guys had to stay back a little longer but remember that your dedication is what’s most important to the team. Also I’m still deciding who will be part of the smaller group to cheer at the volleyball games. When the teams make it to nationals we will be representing Belvoire at the games and will be invited to stay with the volleyball team for two weeks in spring. So…. impress me girls.” The cheerleaders disperse as Veronica and Poppy walk out of the locker room side by side and Veronica bumps Poppy’s shoulder slightly as they walk out to the dimly lit empty parking lot. 
“So I’m guessing whatever epiphany you had worked out”
Poppy chuckles a bit, “what makes you think that?”
“Well you weren’t a crazy bitch today in practice so there’s that. What exactly did you do?”
Poppy lazily picks at one of her manicured nails, “What I should’ve done from the start, gave Chloe a piece of my mind.” 
Veronica lets out a loud exaggerated cough and Poppy looks up at her eyebrow raised, “well whatever you said, I’m guessing it worked,” she nods her head towards the direction over Poppy’s shoulder and Poppy turns to see Bea leaning against her motorbike her eyes fixated on hers and she smiles. “Well, I’ll take that as my cue to leave” she gives the blonde a quick hug and salutes to Bea before heading into her car and driving away. 
Poppy saddles up to Bea and awkwardly tucks in some of her hair behind her ears. Both of them just stare at each other, waiting for the other to initiate the conversation until Bea lets out a laugh. 
“So…” 
“So….”
 “I liked that tactic of yours, slamming Chloe against the wall, I mean I’ve been wishing to do that for years.”
Poppy throws her head back and laughs, “Not my finest moment but I had to do something,” She nervously chews on her lips as she awaits for Bea’s reaction. 
“Yeah, that was uh something,” She hesitantly reaches out to the blonde gripping her waist and pulling her closer, “I’m not fully happy with you though, but thank you. I don’t know what you said to Chloe but this was the first practice where she treated me with some decency.”
Internally, Poppy screams with happiness as this was the first time in days where Bea just simply holds her and she wraps her arms around the taller girl’s neck resting her forehead against hers. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I know I have to earn that. And I know I’ve been a shitty girlfriend-” 
Bea shushes Poppy her hand moving up to cup Poppy’s jaw while her thumb circles her cheekbone, “You’re not a shitty girlfriend Pops. It’s just I wish you could just I don’t know, publicly support me a little. No one’s gonna suspect anything about us just because you’re being a respectable human being.” 
“I know, I know. If I’m being honest, I just froze, I didn’t know what to do but my first instinct should’ve been to help you. It’s just so hard sometimes when everyone’s watching because honestly speaking Bea? I don’t know how you do it sometimes. You’re the most incredible person ever and you deserve to be with someone you can actually be with, not just someone you have to hide in the shadows with.” 
Bea places a finger on Poppy’s lips, silencing her, and when she speaks it’s with the greatest intensity and desirability, “I choose you Poppy. Everyday I choose you. I know it’s not without its challenges but I would rather do hard with you than have it easy with somebody else. You’re worth it all. I just want a little more support, that's all I ask.” 
“And that’s exactly what you’re going to get Bea, I promise,” she leans in and places a soft kiss against Bea’s lips and whispers, “I love you so much, and I promise to do better.”
Bea feverently kisses the blonde before whispering back, “I love you too. Now that we’re okay..how would you like to accompany me to a party this Saturday” her eyes gleam with hopefulness as she knows that Ford is already planning a back to school party on saturday and Poppy’s obligations would usually fall align with her friends. “There’s even going to be fireworks.”
Poppy kisses the brunette, “Fireworks huh? I would love to” she kisses Bea again, filled with passion as the couple of days they spent without each other catches up to them and Bea grips Poppy’s hips tighter pulling her impossibly closer to her. 
Unbeknown to the girls, a figure in the corner of the parking lot watches the girls locked in a passionate embrace which is eventually broken as the brunette offers to drive the blonde home and they drive off together, happy and content. 
read part 4 here: 
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Text
Bulletproofness and Playing God Jay Halstead x reader
written by: @anotheronechicagobog​
requested by @confusedpimp​, I hope you like it!
warnings: swearing, addiction, Hannah Asher is NOT porprayed well in this you have been warned, malpractice, emergency c-section complications, involves Chicago Med episode ‘Do No Harm’, police being idiots and assholes, warrants served incorrectly, drugs, drug dealers, bad neighbourhood created by systematic oppression and gentrification, Will is a prick with issues, and canon compliant violence
A/N: I am very sympathetic and supportive of people who have addictions because not only are there a tone of genetic factors that weigh in on it, but environmental factors that most people have very little to no control over. That being said, I am strongly against people with addictions working in healthcare, first responding, and/or law enforcement who spend most of their time with vulnerable people who don’t have much of a choice about whether to trust them or not. If someone works in an area where they have someone’s life in their hands they cannot be addicted to a substance that will control their ability to make judgements, affect how/their ability to work, and function as a whole.
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In the past eight months, a warrant has been served to your apartment twenty-one times. You haven’t done anything wrong, the name on the warrants was always for your upstairs neighbour, did this make being woken up and the fucking crack of dawn and being interrogated (sometimes arrested) any easier? Not even a fucking bit. So you weren’t surprised when at 3:28 am, your door was busted open (again), heard shouts of “Chicago PD!” (again), and heard your house being “cleared” (again). You groaned and sat up, holding your hands up. Your bedroom door was thrown open with a bang. “I am unarmed, Marcus Evans lives in the apartment upstairs, and I have no association to him.” In the blandest voice possible, you recited the statement the legal aid at your university wrote you. “Uh... Sorry? Hey, Sarg, I think I’ve figured out why there were so many unsuccessful warrants on this place.” The blonde man was still pointing a gun at your head, but more members of his unit came to surround him.   
“Can I put my hands down now? I have documents that prove I am innocent, that the warrant was served to the wrong address, again, and that the only connection I have to Marcus Evans is that he is my annoying upstairs neighbour.”
They all sheepishly looked at you. The Latina woman spoke up, “the apartment is clear of anything even remotely illegal. Well, aside from the power lines attached to her box outside that show that her neighbours have been stealing power and internet from her.”
‘Sarg’, an older man with silver hair with a surprised look on his face nodded. “Alright, put ‘em down and get us the papers.”
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Despite all the evidence that the warrant wasn’t meant for you, they still insisted on taking you down to the station. You refused since they couldn’t arrest you and had no grounds to hold you on, and Sergeant Voight did not like that. “I’m too tired to give a shit about what you want. I have three jobs, student loans, and university to deal with. The only things of value in my apartment are my crappy laptop and internet access. The only time I am ever here is to sleep. You already disturbed what little sleep I was able to get, and I have work in... Forty-five minutes. Just great. Please leave, and can one of you, for the love of all things holy put a note in the system that this is NOT Marcus Evans’ apartment?!” Everyone flinched at your outburst, all looking both sympathetic and annoyed except for Detective Halstead, he just looked very sad for you. “Of course,” he said as he handed you a business card, “if you could call me when you have time, we have some pretty important questions.” Sargent Voight shot him a look, one that clearly said ‘what the fuck are you doing? That’s not your call.’ “Okay. Now seriously, please leave.” Irritated and muttering under their breath, barring Halstead who gave you a smirk and a wink, they all left stepping over the splinters of the door you replaced three weeks before.
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The next day after entering your sparsely decorated apartment, dropping dead on your bed/couch, you heard the distinctive sounds of a door being broken down, followed by the police announcing themselves, and an apartment being searched... Above yours. They finally got the right apartment! Despite the ache in your muscles and bones, you jumped up and cheered. Complete and utter elation surrounded you and your soul. A few minutes into your dancing and celebrating there was a knock on the door. Smiling brighter than you had in years you answered the door. “Good morning detective!”
“Well, good morning to you too, Ms. Y/L/N. You’re in a much better mood.”
“To be fair, you guys busted into my apartment at three in the morning, again, and I just heard everything that happened upstairs, you guys finally got the right apartment!”
“Hey, we never served more than one warrant here.”
“Your unit only served one, but your brothers in blue served twenty-one. Destroying property, unlawful arrest, causing severe anxiety, and just general harassment for eight months. The only reason I didn’t move was because I couldn’t afford to. I’m just happy it’s over now, I’ll never have a  Marcus Evans warrant served at my apartment again!” Halstead looked happy when you opened the door and your conversation began, but when you finally took a breath you noticed how guilty he looked. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking like he was in physical pain, before he nodded at you and walked away, leaving you feeling incredibly confused.
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Two days later you returned from two ten-hour shifts to Jay Halstead in front of your door. “Detective?”
“Please, call me Jay.”
“Alright, Jay, what are you doing here? Is everything okay with Marcus’s arrest?”
“Oh yeah, everything’s fine with that. I came here because of this.” He handed you a large manilla envelope. “What’s this?”
“Compensation. For everything that happened over the last eight months. And apartment listings in better neighbourhoods. Seriously, you need to get out of here, it’s way too dangerous.”
“Thanks for the advice, and the compensation, I’ll think about it. But it just might not be doable for me.”
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You couldn’t afford to move, something that irked Jay to no end. So he came around often. Dropping by with coffee and Irish breakfasts. Sharing his Netflix password and watching B99 together. Driving you home from work or university when it was late. The days grew shorter, and your hours of work grew longer. Jay worried. About you. About the number of hours you worked. About how much university work you had. About your health, how much (or little, really) you slept and ate, how you didn’t see the doctor as often you should (ironic considering you were in med school), and about how you never took time to relax, always jumping from one task to the next. 
You slumped against the passenger seat of Jay’s truck, exhausted after working for thirty hours straight, ten at each of your jobs. “Okay, seriously, you can’t keep living like this. I have a spare room, I can get you a civilian job at my precinct. You are wearing yourself to the bone. Please, Y/N.”
“I get my residency assignment tomorrow. I quit today.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“All three.”
“And you’ll move out of your apartment?”
“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’. Jay sighed and shook his head, before looking at your half-asleep form. “I’ll take you to the shithole you call a home.”
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TWO YEARS LATER
Jumping up and down you waited for Jay to open the door. The envelopes sitting on his coffee table glaring at you. You flopped onto his couch (that didn’t also double as a bed) and huffed impatiently. Fidgeting.
The door opened and you jumped up, startling your best friend. His cop/ranger instincts taking over. He stiffly dropped his jacket and yanked out his gun before aiming it for your head. Panic coursed through you, tightening your chest. Reflexively you put up your hands, not able to control the words that bubbled out of your throat. “I’m bulletproof... But please don’t shoot me.” Jay lowered his gun, laughing. “‘Bulletproof’? Really?”
“Hey, I panicked, shut up.”
“What’re you doing here, anyway? I thought you were taking another shift?”
“I was, but then Sarah’s plans fell through so she decided to take her shift back, plus I got my fellowship applications back!”
“Where did you get accepted?!”
“I don’t know I was waiting for you to get back to open them!”
“Well I’m here now, so open them!” 
“Okay, okay, here we go; Honolulu general, accepted, Seattle Grace, no, but they had a bomb blow up there recently so I’m not heartbroken, Chicago med, yes, and Miami Dade Memorial, yes. Okay 3/4, that’s great! What do you think?”
“Well I’m biased, so Chicago Med, but it would be fun to visit you in Hawaii.” 
“Hawaii is so expensive though, I’d probably have to have a part-time job to make rent.”
“In a decent apartment this time.”
“Two part-time jobs, then. So Hawaii is out, now Miami... It is hot there, beaches, the ocean, the food, but Miami Dade Memorial isn’t very prominent in the research department and the crime rate is awful in the part I’d need to live and work in. I mean I know isn’t a whole lot better but... It would feel a bit like moving from bad to worse, especially on my budget.”
“So that leaves Chicago...”
“It does, but I think I need to find a new place that’s closer to Med and filled with less dug dealers.”
“Please tell me this was a subtle way of asking if you can move in with me.”
“It wasn’t, but now that you bring it up, would that be okay?”
“YES! Oh thank fuck, you’re finally moving out of that rat’s nest! C’mon, let’s go get your stuff now!”
“But Jay I just paid this month’s rent-“
“Let’s gooooooooooo!”
——————————————————————————————————-
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Because your apartment was in such a “great location” (in the same building as three drug dealers) your landlord was willing to give half of your rent back. It had only taken you twenty-something minutes to pack your things and leave. Now you were starting your surgical OB/GYN fellowship, excited to not be working multiple jobs at once for the first time since you were twelve. While Jay’s brother, Will, worked at Med as well he worked in the ED while you worked in the gynecology unit and you were thankful you only had to work together for consults or in an all hands on deck situation because he could be a fucking prick. When you first met him years ago he spent two hours quizzing your medical knowledge, and he got annoyed when you got everything right and he couldn’t correct you. So when you got a consult from him your first week there, you were apprehensive. “Hey Y/N, treatment room four.”
“Thanks, Maggie.” You pushed back the curtain and were met with the sight of a pregnant woman clearly in immense pain and a frustrating ginger. “Dr. Asher is her OB but we can’t find her anywhere. She was on-call but I, and a couple of nurses, and her secretary have been blowing up her phone and we’ve got nothing back. This is her patient Sienna. She’s in a lot of pain but is refusing painkillers, you’ve been working with her a lot lately-“ You snorted. His facial expression hardened. “Just come out and say it Y/L/N.”
“First of all it’s doctor Y/L/N, second of all, I haven’t been ‘working’ with her, I’ve been taking care of ‘her’ patients because she’s almost never at work. She just cancels the appointments short notice and since these women are kind of on a timeline their appointments get reassigned to other doctors. She’s listed as their doctor on all the forms but she’s never even met half of them. Sienna is the only patient that Dr. Asher has seen more than once.” 
“Don’t talk about her like that, you don’t know-“
“That she’s an addict? The entire OB floor knows we just don’t have enough proof to do anything about it. And don’t get me wrong, I know that there’s a lot of genetic components to addiction and I would be sympathetic if she wasn’t responsible for multiple lives at a time on a daily basis.” You turned on your heel and entered the room, done with Will Halstead and his bullshit. “Hi Sienna, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, and I’ll be filling in for Dr. Asher, I understand that you don’t want any drugs and while that’s fine, if your condition gets bad enough we may have to intervene but we’ll do everything we can for you and your baby, okay?”
“Where’s Dr. Asher? I need her here, she understands!”
“Okay, we’re still trying to find her okay?”
—————————————————————————————————
“So I heard that you and my brother locked horns today.”
“Your brother is a prick.”
“I know that he is, I’m just wondering what happened this time.”
“He’s doing this weird ethical-puppy love-guilt trippy-Romeo and Juliet level of doomed-unnecessary drama-thing going on and it’s completely affecting how he treats his patients. We already had one loose cannon we couldn’t disarm, now we have another. It’s come to the point that I’m genuinely worried about the patients that come into Med, and I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”
“Just try not to antagonize Will, okay? He’s more on edge and that makes him erratic, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t make it worse.”
“Okay. I’ll leave him alone.”
“Thank you. I’m starving, what should we do for dinner?”
“Vietnamese is on the way.”
“Have I told you how amazing you are today?”
“Yes, but I would love to hear it again.”
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Dr. Asher’s medical negligence had finally caught up with her, and for once Will wasn’t even remotely involved. He and Asher were having one of their silent spats again when Asher dropped the ball, or baby rather, during an emergency c-section of a patient she misdiagnosed and mistreated because she was in need of a fix. The only reason the mother didn’t hemorrhage and baby didn’t crack his skull was because of your observations and quick reflexes. The baby was healthy and mom was recovering and you were fuming. After scrubbing out you approached the, understandably distressed, father and told him that on your best medical opinion he and his wife should file a malpractice suit for missing an easy and obvious diagnosis, screwing up a routine surgery, and almost killing his son seconds after he was born.
You met with him, his lawyer and Asher two days later in a conference room with Goodwin and Peter the Stressed Out Lawyer. You accused her of having an addiction. The father requested a drug test. Goodwin glared, you glared back. If she didn’t want it handled like this then she should have dealt with it months ago when you brought it up your second week at Med. She tried to approach you in the hall, condescension on the tip of her tongue when you levelled her with a glare so fierce it rivalled that of Godzilla. “You do not get to scold me like I am a child. I told you when I first got here that she has a problem. That she is a danger to everyone who comes into her care. That she is a danger to other doctors. That she is a liability. Do not bitch to me when I told a husband and father who almost his wife and son to her recklessness to sue. To get angry and fight back. Do not take that petty, catty, condescending tone with me because I went around you. You have absolutely no ground to stand on. Because. You. Were. Wrong.”
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You were surprised you had a job to come back to the next day. So was a very pissed off and ‘heartbroken’ Will Halstead. He kept running around to your colleagues, badmouthing you, trying to get them to join in and turn on you, but that didn’t happen. They not only agreed with you but rallied around you. Doctors are not gods. They do not get to ignore a patient’s wishes or act like they don’t have restrictions and limitations. It came to the point that Will told Jay he didn’t approve of you and that he had to dump you... Despite the fact that you weren’t dating.
Jay had rolled his eyes and pushed Will out of the apartment before giving you a hug and made you pancakes for dinner. “I’m sorry that I messed up your relationship with Will.”
“Don’t be. We’re brothers, we fight from time to time, and sometimes those fights are bigger than others and that’s okay. Will, well Halsteads in general, are pretty good at torpedoing any and all romantic relationships.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“My parents only got married cause my mom got knocked up and fought non-stop, Will was and still is in love with Natalie but he was too controlling, secretive, and refused to tell her about Burke, and me... Lindsay and I were on a break before we left because my Vegas wife refused to divorce me and I didn’t tell her I had even been to Vegas.”
“Okay, so maybe it’s a little true, but it’s not because you’re bad people or  Even just saying ‘yes there’s something going on but I don’t feel ready to talk about it with you’ would go a long way. Cause all you Halstead guys say is that you’re fine but you never are and if you lie to yourself you lie to your partner.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. And tell Will when his head is surgically removed from Asher’s ass. You’ve seen that he follows her around like a puppy, right?”
“Yup, everyone on the OB floor has been talking about it nonstop since he started his whatever it was with Asher.”
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EIGHT MONTHS LATER
Because of the suit, the hospital conducted an internal investigation in relation to Dr. Asher that pretty much everyone could confirm. Erratic behaviour and attendance, leaving other doctors to tend to her patients while keeping her name on the case files, and horrifying evidence of being high while working. Granted that had only happened twice and she literally just sat in her office staring at paperwork the whole time. Still, she was fired, the suit was settled, and Asher lost her license. You had destroyed her career and while there was a part of you that felt guilty, you knew that in the end she did the right thing. She refused help and kept carrying on in a way that would have been detrimental to more patients if other doctors hadn’t stepped in. Will still wasn’t talking to you and had started avoiding Jay recently because you two started dating.
Barring the tension from all the Will stuff, your relationship was doing well. You had great dates (both out and at the apartment), were radiating happiness together, and Jay was taking your words about communication to heart. Not once has the phrase ‘I’m fine’ dripped off of his lips. If he didn’t want to tell you something or was more comfortable talking about it with his therapist or Upton before you he’d let you know. Most times he would just talk about what was bothering him, even if it was only bullet points sometimes you both felt relieved that functional relationships were actually possible. 
You were on a date with Jay at your favourite Jamaican restaurant when you ran into Hannah Asher. She did not look pleased to see you and quite honestly you could have lived the rest of your life happily if you never had to see her again. After a few seconds of glaring at you and your boyfriend, an annoying ginger put his arm around her. “Hi Will. How are you?”
“My girlfriend and I are doing well Jacob.”
“Really Will? You’re using my whole name because my-”
“Okay, you know what? Let’s go our separate ways. It looked like you guys were just leaving, and we’re probably confusing our poor hostess. So let’s both just walk away.”
“You ruined my life.”
“Asher-”
“You took everything from me!”
“Do you have any idea how many patients you almost killed in your time at Med? Because I do, and it’s a triple-digit number. You shouldn’t have been practicing in your condition and you know it. So you need to drop the victim act and walk away.” You saw her face contort into complete and utter rage, then everything is hazy. There were lights, bright red ones, and screaming, you were pretty sure Jay was there, and there was... Copper? Why did your mouth feel like it was full of liquid pennies? There was gurgling, was there a baby? Were they okay? You tried to speak, get up, look around, but you were too tired. You were begging yourself to move, to do something, but it felt like your bones turned into melting iron.
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You didn’t remember waking up, or falling asleep for that matter, you were just looking at the glass door and suddenly it came into focus. You didn’t even know how you got to the ED, what happened at the restaurant. Dr. Choi entered your room apprehensively. “Y/L/N? How are you feeling?”
“Like I was mauled by a tiger.”
“That’s... Actually pretty close to what happened, honey.”
“Jay?”
“Hey, I’m right here. So, what’s the prognosis Choi?”
“Multiple contusions on the right side of the abdomen, lower back and around your neck, multiple lacerations all over your abdomen, forearms, and two on your head. Your liver was also perforated, we couldn’t stop the bleeding so we had to remove half of it, which you know means it’ll take a couple of months to grow back and you won’t be able to drink for around a year. We’re going to need to monitor you and run some tests, so you’re gonna be here for a few days.”
“Well I should hope so. What? Why are you two looking at me like I have eight heads? I could’ve died.”
“... You actually want to stay in the hospital and be cared for by your colleagues?”
“I trust you, besides I’ll only make things worse if I check myself out AMA, doesn’t matter how good of a doctor I am. It’ll be hard and I’m not going to enjoy it, but I have to stay here and get treated regardless so I might as well be as positive as I can about it.”
“You are officially my favourite patient.”
“And I love you even more.”
“Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”
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“What happened Jay? I don’t remember anything after telling her to walk away.”
“She went berserk. Attacked you. I tried to pull her off but Will lost his mind, telling me not to hurt her. I managed to toss him after a couple of seconds but I was too late. She’d already slashed you up and stabbed you twice. I grabbed her but she managed to get a bunch of kicks in while I was hauling her away from you all while screaming that she was going to kill you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you. She’s sitting in a cell at the 21st right now with Platt breathing down her neck. We also did a drug test on her, she was high as all hell.”
“Please don’t feel bad Jay, I know that you reacted as fast and did as much as you could. And I know that Will did what he could to stop you. How is Will by the way?”
“He’s in the cell next to hers. He assaulted a police officer and was an accomplice in assault. Voight’s been asking if I want to drop the charges against him because he’s my brother. And I just don’t know, I wanted to talk to you first.”
“I don’t want to charge him. And I don’t want you to press charges either, but I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t want him to go to jail, I want him to go to therapy. He needs it.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but he really does. And I think you need to be the one to bring it up with him. We can do some research, too, and find psychiatrists that have their own practices so that it’s not connected to the hospital at all.”
“That sounds like a great idea, but I think you mean I do the research cause you are supposed to be resting and not doing any physically or mentally strenuous tasks.”
“Fine, fine. Just give Will a hug from me when you see him.”
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ONE YEAR LATER
The day of the trial had finally arrived and you were pissed off about it. The date of the trial was the same day as your due date. The defence had done everything they could to delay the trial, and when they finally settled on the worst possible day three weeks ago, you’d tried to have it delayed again because you didn’t want to give birth in a courtroom. The defence had convinced the judge to deny it, so here you were, sitting in a sweltering room that smelled like old wood and seventies carpet for five hours beside your husband behind the district attorney doing your best not to glare at the judge. “It’s going to be okay, honey, she won’t get away with anything, it’s cut and dry. The only real thing to do is to determine her sentence.” Jay kissed your forehead and placed his hand on top of yours on your protruding stomach. You winced. “She just kicked again, Jay.”
“That’s seven minutes apart.”
“I’m in labour, we need to go.” Jay nodded to your lawyer who motioned to the judge for permission to speak. “Your honour, my client is in labour, may we adjourn so that she and her husband can go to the hospital?”
“Objection your honour!”
“Ms. Asher, do not interrupt the prosecution. I’ve heard and seen more than enough evidence. Ms. Asher, you are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for aggravated assault and attempted murder. The court now is adjourned. Oh, and Dr. Y/L/N and detective Halstead? Congratulations.”
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ofcloudsandstars · 4 years
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Hey guys so here is my experience from last night lmaoo get ready cause it was unsurprisingly a hot mess full of white people microaggressions and me being alone as the only black person present having to deal with their spiritual charade shenanigans.
It's a bit long but it's a colorful description of the event and the experience taking ayahuasca, a wrap up of my own spiritual and magical journey and also a rant on the caucasity rampant in spirituality lol. A tl;dr is that it's sad that White People have to go across the world to take medicine from other people that have ceremonies revolving around it when.. we literally have our own stuff here that's like.. nearly the same vibe.. But more on that below.
So last night for the lions gate sun lining up with sirius star I was invited last minute to an ayahuasca ceremony in the edge of London kind of by Richmond park. The whole universe really opened up for me to do this Ceremony. 
At first I was like I dunno I mean its hosted by wealthy white people right? Admission was £200 and I was like absolutely Not, not for a medicine taken far away from it's land and I dunno how the experience was going to be like, plus it was on a Saturday night until Sunday morning and I work in hospitality and if I couldn't get Tuesdays off to at least work in the garden center growing food and plants how would I get the full weekend off? Plus the ceremony was already full. Well without even ASKING, or really thinking much about it, for once in like.. 2 years working for this company I got the full weekend off?!?! The fuck!!!!! Like I literally had to go to my director to fight my manager to try to get off Tuesdays which are the QUIETEST day of the week for hospitality but I got the full weekend off on like one of the hottest summer weekends in England. My friend co-hosting the ceremony called me to tell me that I wouldn't have to pay full admission and it was all donation to the tribe anyway (like suggested donation) anything I could give would be appreciated but I certainly did not have to pay the full fee. Then I was supposed to go to the beach with my friends in the morning but that all fell through due to unforeseen circumstances. I was thinking the beach trip would make me unable to go to the ceremony but it was just like.. cancelled the morning of lol. Lastly this guy dropped out last second so there was space for me.I was like damn it was like the Universe reshuffled itself for me many times to do this so like sure I will take this opportunity. Plus my friend in this group did work with the tribe in Brazil earlier this year and they are friends with them and do this to raise money so that they can sustain themselves better, like they are building solar panels for electricity, building chicken coups and trying to integrate little bits of modern society (like the electricity and water filtration parts, not like social media and capitalism lmao) into their lives. The last ceremony they did they raised like 2,000 pounds and this got the tribe a lot of food and funds to buy solar panels. So I was like ok this is also a good cause I always would love to help out indigenous people that protect the Earth.
Anyway there was a vibe about the way the Universe just opened itself up for this medicine that reminded me of Mushrooms. Like it's a strange thing but people that take mushrooms medicinally say it as well like it finds you when you need it. Last night I also got a great link to healing mushrooms as well and it was just the time to open myself up to that type of frequency I guess. For a while before it was a challenge to find for years I’ve been living here, but all of a sudden the universe was like: here you go! Anyway I was thrilled to work with this medicine and ground the lessons I've learned getting pinball tossed around the cosmos on DMT at the beginning of 2020 in January.
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So yes I got to the edge of London and it was in some beautiful secret entrance building painted with murals of green jungle designs, A LOT of Indian spiritual symbolism everywhere, statues of Ganesha and other bejeweled paintings of Indian gods. It was beautiful but to be frank as much as I find Hinduism beautiful I never related much to it cause it's not my culture. What I mean by 'relate' is that there is this SEVERE obsession in white western cultures looking for spirituality in Hinduism and I never really got it. Like yes it's beautiful like many other nature-based spiritual religions but we are so far removed from the climate and nature of India like why are they so fascinated by it? Then.. there were some red flags... 
Ok for starters I was the ONLY NOT-WHITE PERSON there. I think it bothered me more in this moment cause I just got off discussing with an incredible Earthy witch in NYC who changed my life who's trying to do work by providing a nature sanctuary garden for POC how nature is so inaccessible to us and it's gate-kept by wealthy white people. I could elaborate on that more later but this post will be long enough lol. But anyway, why is this medicine not accessible to POC? When it's something not even native to here either? So it's like deliberately not shared with us?
Then there were just some people's vibes like ooooh boy I dunno why but some people just felt cold towards me? Like I guess they were annoyed at me showing up last minute to their ceremony? But my friend was co-hosting it? Like if you trust my friends judgement you should have trusted her in inviting me like I am not some asshole. But they were like.. impatient with me I guess? Like 'oh you didn't bring a waterbottle?? Guess you gotta borrow one of ours.' like BITCH I don't know what to expect man the closest experience I had to this substance was DMT where it knocks you the fuck out of your body and your spirit gets catapulted into the cosmos like I didn't know I gotta bring shit, damn! And then there were some people I felt like I just didn't want to talk to. Like they already had this cold vibe towards me like they didn't think I was relatable cause I wasn't some white cosmic yoga hippie like them (sorry I am a black bog witch like leave me alone) but anyway the way they were talking about the medicine was kind of irking me too like, 'ooh can't wait to clear some stuff I just gotta clear it out you know?' I am like, Becky we gonna be vomiting into buckets like calm down.
AND THEN LASTLY oooh boy so when you do any psychedelic the space really matters right? My friend like.. assigns me this fucking (ooh boy just typing this story and reliving it I am already getting heated lmaooo) |CORNER| spot and what I mean by corner is that it is in the corner of the room but wedged between the fireplace so you are stuck between 3 tight walls and you can't fully lie down or stretch your legs. Everyone across the room could lie down but me. Then there are like vomit buckets and this white girls crystal grid blocking my path if I need to leave to use the toilet or even stretch my legs so already I am having a slight panic moment cause I hate being confined. In general, I tend to like to pick aisle seats on planes and stand on either corners by the door of the elevator cause I fucking hate being confined. So I say something immediately like: ok well can I change spots? I am worried about being blocked. Can I sit there? 'no someone is there.' There? 'no' etc. So I am just like omg I am going to have to deal with it and some people are getting a bit fussy that I am trying to demand better treatment, so I am leaving it. They at least move the pile of vomit buckets out my way lol. But these white women next to me have also taken ALL OF THE NICE fucking pillows to make themselves super comfortable pillow chairs like one for their ass and back against the wall and they were like: oh no you'll need a pillow too! (Cause the ceremony is 12 hours long throughout the night like 9 to 9) and I was like yeah... and they were like: oh no there is no more!! But like CLEARLY all of the nice cushiony things were not evenly distributed across the room and the few people who did not get some nice cushions at least had space to stretch their legs. I didn't really say anything cause obviously these two white women had like pillow thrones happening next to me and this woman literally said with a pouty face: Aww, now I feel bad cause I have two nice pillows!  BITCH, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!?!?! Fucking christ. See?? SEE IT's shit like THIS that make POC hate that kind of white guilt shenanigans like, oh my god bitch either swallow your guilt in peace or give me a fucking pillow like you are trying to shift the position on to me to pressure you into giving me a pillow which you would either read as demanding or hope that I stay silent and be like: it's ok! so you can enjoy your comfort in peace and be free of your guilt. Like fuck off!!
Then there was this full time astrologer there who has some indigenous feather clip in her hair for some reason. She wanted to say a few things about what was going on with the planets. She was like: I love charting asteroids cause I feel like it's a representation of the divine feminine coming back! (I was going to be like: Me too! But the way she spoke about it was like.. not all of it is feminine? What do you mean?) she was talking about Medusa and eros conjunct in gemini right now and the myth of medusa being smited by aphrodite for being beautiful or whatever and I am thinking like I do not recall this myth cause it was Athena that turned her into the 'monster' to protect her wtf. And wanted to talk about mars retrograde that's not coming up for a while. So anyway I am like: Yeah! I love astrology too!  All that you talked about was pretty cool but I also wanted to mention some big changes are coming up with Uranus going into retrograde a week from now!! :) and everyone just like.. disregarded what I said.. Like she was like: oh yeah.. that's just an outer planet.. OK BITCH like I am pretty sure Uranus, a big ass planet that has to do with revolution, freedom and change going retrograde until Autumn is much more noteworthy than some little asteroid who's myth and energy you've completely misinterpreted being conjunct with Eros. (Eros is moving into Cancer really soon too so the conjunction isn't even going to last that long). Plus I wanted to mention that it was nice that we were doing this ceremony on an Aries moon cause it's like the symbolic start of a cycle yet it's a disseminating moon so it's also like starting off a cycle by celebrating the fruits of our success. But no one really wanted to listen to me anymore though that energy did influence my trip.
Anyway there was a part of me that was pretty bummed that my best witch friend that I did DMT with could not have come as well cause there just was no more space. At least we are always on the same vibe with everything and we would have been laughing about the shadiness of it all or excited about what's to come but I felt pretty alone during this ceremony.
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So it begins, I got my borrowed waterbottle, the smallest, thinnest and hardest pillow that no one wanted for my ass that hurt more to sit on then the thin yoga mat that was just as thick as a human mousepad and I am like: who knows I may be so out of it I won't notice my space as much. The woman leading this is someone who worked with my friend in the tribe in Brazil. She is Russian and got the feathers in her blonde whispy hair and shit I am like oh boy. She explains what work they were doing and the reason for the fundraiser like the details of what the tribe is building and how they are supporting themselves. Also the tribe that night were also doing an ayahuasca ceremony earlier to sync with us so that they can meet up in the Astral plane which is really beautiful. She also explained how they were surprised at westerners fascination with the medicine. Cause they are like: this is apart of everyday life and there are other healing plants in the amazon too. Like why do westerners have a fascination with this? It is a way to connect with the jungle and cleanse yourself and reset (once again I am making that connection to mushrooms I am like.. the vibe sounds oddly familiar), but they find westerners interest in it weird.
Ok so we start with some ceremonies to open up the space and create this 'fire spiral' altar in the middle of the room. They light the pillar candle and have a tea light for everyone in the room. We each go around to light our tea light in the spiral with our intention allowed. People go there and declare stuff like: I am free, I am aligned with my path, etc.  I think about my intention for this trip and how it feels like another pillar of understanding in my journey to connect with my heart energy, love myself and be proud of my accomplishments cause I really came a long way. I was a bit afraid it was going to be another chaotic DMT experience but I just reminded myself that no matter how bad I felt everything was going to be ok cause I have people in this world that care about me. Even if I disappear somewhere or end up dead someone will come looking for me. And I know that sounds dramatic and morbid but at one point like 5 years ago I really did not have that. I was alone, lost and suicidal. I know what loneliness can do to people and it's nice all of the friends I pulled together in London who are creative diverse witches that all made great friends with each other as well through me and it's like we created this new found family that cares and supports each other. So I light my candle and say alloud: I am protected by love and reflect that in the things I create. Anyway the ceremony leader is like.. can I say something?? BITCH!!! HOOOOO MY GOD I should I have said NO but I was like, ok, she is the ceremony leader so I am like.. go ahead.. She was like: By saying you are protected by love that's implying you could be attacked.. (Like Why the fuck would you say this?? While I am lighting my candle?? You are putting negative energy towards my intention wtf) I was like no I meant it like.. I am supported by love. She is like: ah yeah that's better say that. She did not want to correct NONE OF THESE OTHER PEOPLE when they were saying 'I am free'? BITCH you could have had the same energy like: that's implying you could be enslaved. Anyway that irritated me into my trip. I took the ayahuasca from her and as I was feeling the effects I was feeling more and more adamant about my intentions.
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I was thinking about the times when I was alone, when I was targeted and attacked by this stupid racist social group in college that made me feel unworthy of friendship and it was hard to make new friends until I was 21 cause it was a city college so most people hung out with their highschool friends until they were old enough to go out and drink so the first two years I was fucking lonely and the subject of like a lot of harassment when I did try to socialize in clubs and would run into those people there. It nuked my self esteem. Plus though I did so much finding friends magic it was really difficult finding friends that into the same things I was. Sometimes I felt like I was the only witch, the only person really into nature and magic. After college I did another spell and met this incredible witch that we synched so much (I have def wrote wild adventures with us together but she was also abusive cause at that point I still did not know how to establish my boundaries well) but I met other amazing witches in NYC but eventually we all moved. The incredible Earth witch who changed my life was the one who accidentally gave me shrooms that were like grown with love and intention that helped break down my mental barriers and help me take charge of my life and finally move out of my house I grew up in.. like completely out of the country and into England to start my life anew. In England I was successful in making a whole community of loving witch friends who really care about me and add to the ceremonies I host. I joined greenspaces to learn how to grow food and plants. I fucking STRUGGLED in my job getting my food in the door with bartending and slaving my way up until I have a cushy desk office job with healthcare. All in 2 years. I fucking hauled ass and created and manifested the life I always wanted when I was suicidal in NYC thinking that this reality was impossible. And every time I feel anxious I know that since I love and trust in myself that I will always protect myself and even if I was worried I have like a whole SET of magical badass witch friends who would help me at anything and I would do the same for them. 
When my roommate was threatening to call the police on me back when lockdown happened (long story) one friend did some healing on her and she like completely came to her senses and apologized the next day which was wild considering that she's such a proud self-absorbed person and would never do that. She realized that she was acting super ugly and was like wow I don't want to be this person. (Also I was so close to cursing the shit out of her lol but we are cool now). Also I am going away to Italy for the first time to be with this gorgeous man who wants to take me around his hometown but I am only going cause another close witch friend just moved to the neighboring town and will check up on me. She made sure to call him without me even asking to look at his itinerary and include herself and her boyfriend in a night of drinks to check up on us lmaoo. She is such an Aries I love her. If anything would happen to me she would make sure I was safe and could stay with her if something went wrong. God I could go on about each friend, how they've helped me with confidence, healing, safety and just feeling loved, valued, accepted and less alone which is powerful in this society that thrives on people not valuing themselves and where pure unconditional love has seemed to have lost it's meaning. One thing I admire about trees so much is how when they grow together their roots intertwine underneath the ground so that they can support each other upright during winds and storms. They also send nutrients to each other and help each other grow. I feel like I made a network of trees with witch friends in London and I am proud of that when I didn't have that years ago when I was alone and actively hated by a group in college. (I mean about the group it was more like a dynamic where a guy who had control over the club wanted to shun me cause he just likes the power dynamic of picking someone to talk shit about like literally if it was not me it was going to be someone else. So one party cause I did have a crush on him, I told him as I was wasted I was into him but then later apologized when sober if he didn't feel the same way. Like it really wasn't a big deal, I was a flirty 19 year old, but it was fuel for him to once again redirect negative attention on someone cause he's someone who's insecure so he likes the power of getting others focus on people and crush them. The "mutual friends" kind of didn't care about what was going on. The reason why this dynamic worked is cause in a way everyone was a bit lonely and didn't value themselves so they were willing to do anything to fit into a toxic social circle to have access to a club room and drink underage on campus to feel included and didn't want to question who the witch hunt of the week was so they could feel like they were in the ‘in crowd’. It was pathetic when one of them would be the new target and they would come to me like: boohoo I know what it feels like. Bitch I do not care and I made new friends and moved on. Fucking cunts.  -Another thing about being protected by love is like as a black woman even though I got some privileges being mixed and half European I still was subject to racism and I am still scared of hate crimes fueled by sexism and queerphobia but I have friends who will support me and understand and if anything happened to me people would care. Like yes some people in this world DO have things to fear about getting attacked cause we are not all privileged in society to not fear getting hurt Karen.
Anyway as the ayahuasca was kicking in I started getting a bit emotional cause I was thinking about people in the world that really deserve to be loved in this society that condemns us for loving ourselves which is the most important thing. I was crying thinking about black kids especially black girls trying to survive in this society or LGBT+ kids and how some people can't even have their existences respected. How people mock others for their gender identity but those people are in a constant battle with loving themselves cause I am sure at the end of the day they feel hopeless at times or giving up and have to fucking battle dysphoria and have to survive in a society that actively wants them dead and its really fucking upsetting like hooo them psychadelics were opening my heart and grief while this white woman across the room was doing some downward dog yoga shit into her bucket so she can wretch into it lmaoo..
When it started kicking in, boy omgg I felt SO GOOD but I was like..  This.. THIS (I got so mad when I realized this)  THIS IS JUST FUCKING MUSHROOMS LIKE!!!!! !!! ! THIS VIBE IS SERIOUSLY JUST SHROOMS, THE JUNGLE EDITION™   like no wonder the tribes are like: what are white people on about? Cause if they all came with their pashmina scarves, harem pants and grinch-finger dreadlocks to my woodland for mushrooms, especially when there are so many magical plants as well but they are just focusing on this psychedelic when there's also like native medicines in every land I would be a bit confused too. Like we were drinking something that was the equivalent of mushroom tea but it made you vomit it back up eventually. Ohh my god lmaooo. 
I felt so beautiful though. Some comparisons if you guys have done mushrooms: where as mushrooms make you feel these gentle pulsations like everything is breathing around you had has this gentle life breathing among everything like it's all connected (like the mycellium under a forest), ayahuasca makes you feel so sensual like everything is kind of just rolling like how the underside of waves look except the waves are large snakes. Like things start getting wavy the way snakes move but slow and sensually, think like the way a bellydancers hips can roll. It was a whole MOOD. Also with mushrooms when you close your eyes you can see these beautiful patterns bloom before your eyes like pastel art nouveau fractal patterns of tree roots, or clusters of bubbles you'd see looking at plant stems vascular bundles under a microscope or the web-like pattern you see in butterfly and dragonfly wings. With ayahuasca when you close your eyes you see like bright neon colored geometric shapes expanding like bismuth crystals, the patterns you see in indigenous textiles like triangles and cubes, sometimes they will lattice together and make beautiful neon snake-skins that gently slither together. If you've ever seen Miyazaki's/Studio Ghibli's castle in the sky it reminds me of that 'lost technology' metal blocks with runes and scriptures on it moving around. Sometimes you will be following this thread of cubes and they'd be moving around like in that scene and in this cavern of blocks you'd see this celestial-looking geometric crystaline being be revealed. It's very beautiful. Though mushrooms can make you purge, it really does not happen often. However with ayahuasca it's almost a guarantee you will vomit it back up.
So people are all wretching everywhere as the ceremony leader is singing some folk songs from the tribe to guide us through our journey. What's cool is that you kind of feel that purge coming towards the peak end of the trip like a kind of brown murky snake rising from the bottom of your body up like kundalini energy starting from the base of your spine bowels past your stomach up until it pokes from your throat opening up that passage way until you feel it in your head and you just release it all out into the bucket. Not really glam but it doesn't taste bad but then again being a bog witch I drink all sorts of murky plant teas so I am used to the flavor palate. (It's like a sweet in an aromatic way and reminds me of one of those chinese medicinal murky teas).
Also as I was realizing the similarities between this and shrooms I was like wow it's a shame that we aren't outside or somewhere with jungle plants at least to connect with that plant energy. Instead we are in this hindu spiritual retreat place but if we just did some shrooms we could have been out in the sunlight at richmond park hugging the massive ancient trees there and feeding the wild deer summer strawberries like instead I am fucking cramped in this corner vomiting into a bucket with this exotic medicine.
As my trip went on I was thinking more about my friends who care about me and support me and how much I loved them and I couldn't stop thinking about my best witch friend that I did DMT with whom I wish was there. Like we would at least have been laughing about this or vomiting together or she would be like: omg this would be such great play-write material. She is white passing but super self aware and would at least make sure that I felt ok and included in all of this. I took a moment to step out of the circle to text her about the details and the woman in the corner doing yoga and vomiting in her downward dog pose and she was cackling and of course since the medicine connects you to that heartspace I was like confessing how much I care about her and how much of a special friend she was to me and was tearing up but one of the ceremony leaders followed me outside and was like: no phones!! It's not good energy!! Omg?? Like sorry I forgot cellphones were the devil's energy, it's not like I am bored and scrolling through social media, I just wanted to connect with my best friend who makes me feel less alone thanks.. Anyway I went back after being scolded and tried to get comfortable in my cramped spot.
Some positive affirmations I did get through all this was that (bringing back the disseminating moon vibe) I was loved and should be really proud of how far I've come. I kept thinking about all the people I love and cared about and how I should express my love in little ways that will make them happy like celebrating love everyday to make sure that people can feel supported cause it was the themes of my DMT trip too but now it was clearer and more grounded. I also got messages that sometimes I tend to be too selfless and there will be a time that I will help others but I should prioritize myself first mostly cause when my cup is full or when I get to positions of power or comfort I can always share that with people I care about. It was a good conclusion to a half years effort cause this also reflected my Glastonbury trip back in November where this witch who read my tarot cards gave me the clearest reading of my life and told me that I would not do well if I did not confront my heart energy and the pain there that was still festering from the social experience at university. So the efforts I went through my friend giving me sound healing and the DMT trip and other stuff has really opened up my heart and helped me to connect with that energy and care about myself more. But there was the theme again of I really need to protect myself first. Sometimes when the white girl next to me was mercilessly wretching and wailing into her bucket I felt so emotional for her that I would fan her but I would get this loud voice in my head like: DID SHE EVEN ASK THAT OF YOU?? FAN YOURSELF IT'S HOT BITCH- SHE OK SHE GOT HER FUCKING PILLOW THRONE WHEN YOUR ASS IS ON THE HARD GROUND. After purging and trying to get comfortable in my corner I would get increasingly aware of the lack of space and how I was starting to feel claustrophobic and it was starting to fuck with me. Cause yeah I got mental health issues, but it's usually under wraps when I take care of myself like, good sleep, food and water but, I was getting sleep deprived since this was an all night ceremony, I wasn't able to eat food to fast before this, and now I can't even fucking lie down cause I was in a coffin of a corner on the hard ground. My muscles and knee joints were starting to hurt. People were so in the zone just like.. doing arm-trance dance shit or throwing up while the ceremony host was hollering some songs which no one understood the meaning to and I felt at that point it was too late to ask anyone to share their pillows. I was noticing as I was coming down from the sensual jungle slithering plane that I was in muscle and joint pain.
I was like: Ok it's fine, the night would go by quickly.. It was not going by quickly.. I remember once I was sneakily looking at my phone’s clock and it was 4:30AM. I was like ok just gotta get through this time will pass.. The ceremony leader was like intoning some frequency so loudly she was trying to channel some celestial dolphins and whales or some shit but it was so high pitched the crown of my head would be vibrating and at first it feels energizing and cool but since my head hasn't had anyplace comfortable to rest I got a tension migraine from placing it on the floor so I could feel the high pitch note like vibrating the pain in my head. Then she was doing individual healings (I also got skipped somehow in this), she would be like channeling the frequencies for each person and making sure they purged what they need to purge and they would wretch into the bucket some more as she was growling into their backs, the feathers stuck in her blonde hair, quivering as she growled, there was the yoga girl now crying releasing her purge again. Someone was sticking their legs into the air and waving them around cause of energy I guess. I am like ok ok time will pass quickly.. what time is it? *sneakily checks my phone again so I won't get yelled at* 4:32am
OH HELL NO. I am trying to calm myself down but like if you struggle with the mental health imbalance I was in the red zone. Like I have not eaten, my stomach is cleared with vomiting, I cannot sleep, I am CONFINED in this corner, unable to stretch my legs, I am in PAIN, I feel alone.. They go around offering everyone a cup again and I am like: fuck it let me take a second cup..
So I start feeling good again, I feel like a sensual snake like trying to slither across silk. (You know when snakes try to slither across silk but they cannot move across it? It's like that you are just slithering in place) but literally I also feel like a clearer message in my mind almost like the spirit of ayahuasca is communicating with me like: Hun.. babe.. You got your positive affirmations that it's your time to rest and celebrate all you're hard work but you need to remember that you gotta honor and take care of yourself as a part of self love and you being confined in this space is not an act of self love. Especially if you do decide to stay here longer your mood and health will drop so low that it will affect others healings so it's best for everyone if you try to go home early. Like I felt the spirit of that medicine actually encouraging me to leave. Like the fucking ayahuasca itself was like this environment isn’t healthy for you lmaoooo.   And I think that's wild.. It's so wild that these white women are all like: We are going to connect with the cosmic dolphin frequencies, and the tribe in the amazon and the human race, but they CAN'T EVEN FUCKING CONNECT TO THE BLACK GIRL IN PAIN IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM, like they can't even distribute their nice pillows, they can't even read that I need help. They SKIPPED me with the individual healing. They were so cold towards me. Fuck it! Even my friend's companion dog who was there noticed I was off. She would look at me with concern in her big eyes and apprehension cause she could feel my pain turning into mentally unstable anger. I was like aw man I am killing the dogs vibe right now but damn the dog noticed and even these white women didn't?! Like I dunno if they are that empathetically shut off or if they were deliberately ignoring me. lmao, Also I think maybe cause I vibe so much with plants and genuinely want to reforest some land some day maybe that's why I feel so at home in the ayahuasca high like the medicine was really comforting the second cup but it also was like: you cannot hide within my frequency to escape pain- cause obviously it's NOT a substance for escapism. Anything but. It was like: it's time to go home and take care of yourself. (Like you'd imagine being on the brink of a mental breakdown taking this stuff may push you over the edge but it was actually very loving, sensual and re-affirming again.)
So the ceremony leaders notice since it's 5AM that most people are comfortably asleep in their piles of pillows and stretched out legs and they are about to go to bed but I go up to my friend and am like: thank you for everything, I think I should go home now.. And the women leading it were all Surprised and Shocked! 'Oh my goodness?? She's leaving?! Going home? The event isn't over!' Mind you this is by Richmond park and I live in north London by Hampstead heath so yeah it is a mission. I also could not afford the £40 uber so I was willing to take the shady public sunday morning night bus home lmao (oh no she'll expose herself to all that heavy shady energies of public transit! 🙄). But I was like the amount of time the bus would take from me to go home is probably not as long as the way time was inching slowly within that space and me being in pain. So my friend walked me out and I was trying to be as loving and cheerful and grateful cause I honestly did not want to bring down anyone's vibe. She checked up on me as I was getting my things to make sure I had a healing experience. I tried to be a little honest in being like: It was beautiful, it reminded me of mushrooms but like from the jungle.. Honestly the reason why I am leaving is cause I am in physical pain and I don’t think I can stay in the corner any longer; and she was like: yeah well ceremony is never comfortable. HOOOOOO LAWDDD. Oooof.. Omg.. Like.. OOF firstly.. The ceremony leaders each had 3 stacks of like thick pillowy matts to sleep on which ONE Of them could have been given to me and like yeah I am sure ceremony is at least bearable when you have a fucking pillow throne and mattresses and not confined in a coffin of a corner spot unable to move your legs without knocking someone’s vomit bucket over. Jesus. I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed my shit and left. As soon as I was free on the other side of the gate I felt SO RELIEVED!!
It was so refreshing being outside on sunrise, free to stretch my legs. I could still feel the affect of the medicine as things would pass me by and I'd see like this stream of energy behind them it was really pretty and cool. Since it was London in Liminal Space Hours™, there were foxes everywhere leaving behind streams of soft light as they'd move around the empty streets. The bus was pretty chill other than this fucking creep of a man walking in this dark cloud and when he moved past me his stream of light was literally some ugly fluorescent hostile neon color I was like wow I can literally see your grimy frequency right now lmaoo. But whatever, anything was better than staying silent in that cramped corner to cater to white women's comfort.
Anyway I got home, got plenty of water, took care of myself and crashed on my super comfortable bed. It was a really good decision I made I could not imagine staying until 9 AM like it was not possible and I am grateful I honored myself in leaving early and listening to ayahuasca's reminder to do that as well.
-
So the conclusions I made:
White people as a modern cultural collective are fucking wild and can sometimes be a lost cause, cause we literally have medicine here that does similar stuff and more like flying ointments which can help you confront your shadow and fly to other planes but they just want to lose themselves in the mysteries of other peoples exotified cultures that still have traditions in tact to celebrate the nature around them cause white people are disconnected completely from the nature that they come from. (Also obviously to clarify I mean white people as the modern white supremacist culture, obviously not everyone individually cause I am friends with a lot of white witches here doing invaluable work connecting people back with the native land, plant medicines and traditions and many of them trying to save the Gaelic language and traditions that are still under threat and being killed off today).
Though ayahuasca can be more of a powerful cleanser than mushrooms, it's essentially the same frequency of plant medicine like the same vibe just connecting you to another land and there is a reason why indigenous people think white people are weird for over glorifying it when we have our own shit. If you are really curious about ayahuasca I mean mushrooms are good enough a job really and will better connect you to the woodlands that you may live in. 
 Most importantly I kind of understand the type of role I need to play and the path there isn't clear cut but it's important for me to keep spreading that message of love. Right now we live in a dark dank ass time line when the Earth is transiting some dark corner of the cosmos and everything is going through it's own nasty purge while we try to ascend to a new and better reality. However this new and better reality is really indifferent towards the existence of the human race or white supremacy so as the earth ascends and has it’s own purges, if people don't fucking get it together, especially white people, we are going to get taken out as the rest of the world thrives and glows up without us. It's so easy to fall into a spiral of self hate cause this shitty evil society we live in thrives on us not knowing how to honor ourselves and love ourselves. Even capitalism has twisted the idea of loving ourselves into something selfish or synonymous with splurging money to further empower stupid companies to give us quick highs from new purchases that will lose it's meaning and later pollute the earth.
On these trips a message I keep on getting is that love and life are synonymous. It's true and sad that there are many people brought into this world without love but what lets life thrive and what makes life worth living is love. And love is really that energy where we are grateful in our existence and the existence of our friends and those that support us and nature that supports us. But often what helps us understand that love is being able to support ourselves and do stuff that honors ourselves. And yes being loved IS a need, so it's important to seek out friends that validate you and that will love and support you and that you can do the same with them. If you find that network you will feel less alone and when you love yourself you will never feel alone and that in itself is true empowerment. When you have love in your life like that you can do anything and you will always feel safe. And I think that's why I was crying at the beginning of my trip cause I know what it's like to not have that. I know what it was like to feel hopeless and suicidal. We also live in a society that like beats down on kids of color especially black girls and like LGBT kids especially trans kids and it makes me so sad to think that there are people here that don't even realize how valuable they are by just existing. Like their lives don't just matter, they are INVALUABLE and that they need to fight for themselves every day and make the effort to love themselves cause honestly once they push through and really figure out how to love themselves they don't realize that they are literally a beacon of light and hope for others to learn how to love themselves too. Once they get to that place someone else who could be alone and struggling can look to them and be like: wow I do have the right to exist and be valued cause this person found a way to do it themselves even though society shat on them the whole time. And it's important to support your peers in these marginalized groups as well and be allies to those who are not well supported in this society. Like this is such a shitty timeline but people need to realize that they are made of love and that they are valuable and that the future of humanity and our peace and well being depends on their missions to find love for themselves and overcome white supremacy's demon ass structure that is enslaving us all.
Ok that is all. If you have read all of this thank you <3
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aelaer · 4 years
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The Blood in Our Veins (a serial)
This came out faster than I expected.
Prompt (via @ironstrangeprompts): Kidnapped to play doctor for a still unseen other prisoner; Stephen realizes there is only one person on the planet who would have palladium in their blood.
This is unbetaed; apologies for any errors.
Part 1 |
Part 2 - Get Me Through the Night
The time on Stephen's watch read 5:24 P.M. on April 24, 2010. Doctor Baar caught him looking at his wrist as he helped prepare samples for the pharmaceutical chemist.
"If your watch is set for New York time, it will not match here. I do not think we are in America."
"What makes you say that?" Stephen asked. He was told that talking was allowed so long as they still worked, but a couple doctors gazed over at the camera as that was said. He got it; they were being both watched and listened to. Great.
"Breakfast should come in the next two to four hours. Or at least, they are more breakfast-like foods. Eastern European, maybe Middle Eastern. I am not entirely sure." The German doctor adjusted the microscope he looked into and kept his head down. "They do keep us well-fed, for what it is worth. You will not starve here."
Playing lab technician was not something Stephen had done since medical school and it was not something he particularly enjoyed. He wasn't exactly in the position to change his circumstances at the moment, however—and there were a lot of blood samples that needed preparation by someone, and he wasn't one of the lab specialists. So he took on the prep work. It was tedious, but necessary in their situation.
"Breakfast?" Stephen frowned. "Then when do they let us sleep?"
"At the beginning, when Doctor Ferguson and I were first brought here, we were permitted to sleep seven hours. They even dimmed the lights." Again the doctor kept his head down, appearing very focused on his work.
Stephen followed his lead and kept his eyes on the centrifuge tubes he was preparing. "How long have you been here?"
"For us, it has been a month. It was maybe two weeks later when Doctor Mahajan joined us. Doctor Weston has been here for only a few days." Doctor Baar typed a few notes into a computer and replaced the slide with another one; both slides had a small drop of blood upon them.
"I don't suppose that computer has an internet connection," Stephen muttered.
The chemist smiled dryly. "That would be useful, wouldn't it?"
Stephen had nothing to say to that and the conversation petered out into nothing.
————  
Stephen's watch read 6:41 P.M. when Doctor Mahajan asked if Stephen could be spared for more sample handling at her work station. He had hundreds of more questions, but Doctor Baar had asked for silence soon after their conversation and Stephen understood that need well and had followed his request.
"Thank you for joining in the work so quickly," Doctor Mahajan said after relaying her instructions to him. "I am surprised you didn't elect to sleep further first. You were heavily drugged."
"I get through stress best by working," Stephen replied, "though I haven't done lab work for some years." The knowledge that he had been kidnapped was a thought he had pushed into the back of his mind, placing it in a spot to deal with later (when he inevitably had to). In the meantime, he wanted to distract himself as much as possible and gather what information he could regarding his circumstances, and he had the opportunity to do both right now.
Doctor Mahajan continued lowly, "Doctor Weston has been helping us a lot since her arrival, but she deserves further rest. She remained awake during her time to sleep to monitor you."
Stephen had been instructed by her to place samples onto slides and label them in a specific manner on both the slide and computer, so he was in the process of doing just that. "What is this about taking shifts to sleep? Doctor Baar mentioned it had not always been like this."
"It changed about a week ago," she answered. "It was just before Doctor Weston was brought here. Before, during my time here, they had only come in once to deliver new equipment that Doctor Ferguson requested."
"How're food and messages usually delivered?" Stephen asked.
"Through the slot at the bottom of the door," she said, then lowered her voice even further into a near whisper, leaving Stephen straining to hear her. "But they came in again." She went off on a tangent to add, "If they come once more, put your hands on your head, quickly. They're impatient." Doctor Mahajan then paused to enter something longer on her own computer before continuing to speak in a whisper. "They said the last time they came that only one of us could sleep at a time, and we needed to eat meals faster. There would be 'consequences' if we didn't." She quickly pivoted the subject. "Let me know when you are starting to get tired; my sleep shift started an hour ago, but Doctor Weston needed it more. We will need to adjust to about five hours a shift with your arrival, too."
Stephen frowned down at the slides as he listened to her words. "What could be so damn important that we can only sleep one at a time? What are these samples for?"
Doctor Mahajan didn't answer immediately. When she did, he again had to strain to hear her. "The less you know and the less you guess, the safer it will be for you. Please don't ask me again."
————  
The time was 8:30 P.M. in New York when Stephen finished his prep work for Doctor Mahajan. She had gone for her sleep shift about 45 minutes ago. Just as he finished, he heard a metallic scraping sound that sounded near-deafening in the quiet room.
"That's breakfast," Doctor Ferguson told him as she turned to face him. "We have a table to eat at over there." She waved a hand at a corner of the room. "They don't like us eating together all at once. We'll eat first."
She sent a couple silent gestures to the other two doctors, then went towards the door. Stephen followed her and eyed the entrance up and down. It looked like it was made of steel and in no way was going to be forced open. Beside the door were two large closed containers. Doctor Ferguson picked one up, leaving Stephen for the other, and he followed her to the table.
The containers turned out to be filled with an ample amount of food: several pieces of flatbread, a chunk of cheese, a chunk of butter, another container filled with a porridge of some type, and something that resembled yogurt but didn't quite smell like the yogurt he was used to. There were also two canteens of what turned out to be tea and coffee, and enough dishes and cutlery for them all.
"Doctor Baar wasn't kidding," Stephen muttered. "They do want us well-fed."
"It wouldn't do them any good if we were too weak to work," she replied. "Help yourself to whatever you want."
Stephen avoided the yogurt-looking substance, but took a bit of the rest and helped himself to some coffee. It wasn't spectacular, but it was manageable. "Doctor Baar mentioned that you, alongside him, have been here the longest Doctor Ferguson."
"Call me Jada," she answered. "It seems ridiculous to me to stand on titles in a situation like this. Summer—Doctor Weston—agrees with me." 
He raised his brows. "And the other two?" 
"Steffen doesn't seem to care either way; he's a tough read. Doctor Meera Mahajan always refers to us by title, and seems to want the same. I think it helps her disassociate from our circumstances—helps her cope. We're all worried, but she's having the toughest time of it." 
Stephen looked sidelong at the British woman as they spoke about her; she was currently asleep in one of the beds along the far wall. The stress lines across her brow had hardly faded. His eyes quickly caught sight of the unlabeled pill bottle on the floor just beside her cot. "Pills?" he asked. 
"Oh." Jada paused for a moment in thought. "She has a condition—best if she tells you, rather than me. I'm not her doctor, but…" 
"I get it," Stephen said with a slight smile. 
"Steffen has his own pills, too. A different condition. But you need to let us know now if you need anything daily; they'll have it to you within a day, if it's like when they got the other pills." 
He shook his head. "No, I'm fine." He then glanced towards the camera at the corner near the door. "They're very well-stocked." 
"Very," she muttered. 
"Who are these people?" Stephen muttered back. "What do they want with us?" 
"No idea who they are, but I can show you what they are having us do after breakfast." Jada jutted her chin to his plate. "Finish up; we've been talking too long without getting work done. They're even starting to get annoyed at longer showers. Though to be honest, I don't know why I still try and bother with long showers; that white people shampoo has completely ruined my hair." 
Stephen snorted softly at the unexpected comment. "Should send a complaint to management." 
She half-smiled. "We've gotten a few changes of clothes, extra towels, and water containers as needed—they brought stuff in for you when you arrived, by the way—but even I wouldn't push my luck with this group." Jada then turned fully to her meal and Stephen followed suit. 
After they ate, she led him back to her workstation. Doctors Baar and Weston took their turn to eat breakfast as Doctor Ferguson opened a cabinet. 
Stephen stared blankly at the contents within. On one shelf were a number of inorganic compounds: calcium hydroxide, lithium carbonate, lithium hydroxide, hydrogen peroxide, and lithium peroxide, to name a few. On another shelf chlorophyllin, several supplements in the form of vitamin C, vitamin B12, magnesium, calcium, and iron, and a bottle of Calcium EDTA were all in sight, though there were other things behind those. There were also various fruits, of all things, on the very bottom shelf. 
"The fruits aren't for us, by the way." She tapped a handwritten recipe beside the cabinet. "You can make the drink right now. We're making it twice a day at this point. Refrigerated items are over there." Jada gestured over to a small medical fridge. 
His bewildered gaze went from the cabinet to follow her hand, then fell on the recipe. "What the hell is this for?" 
"Our patient." She went to her microscope and placed a slide under it. After a moment of adjusting the focus, Jada said, "Come take a look at this." 
Stephen stepped up to the microscope and frowned to himself as he looked at what happened to be a blood sample. The white blood cells showed clear signs of toxic granulation and he saw both basophilic stippling and microcytic anemia in the red blood cells. 
"Well," he started, "the patient does not have normal-looking blood cells. I hope you have more than blood samples to work with." 
She half-smiled. "Lucky for us, we didn't have to search for what was causing these abnormalities. The patient has palladium poisoning." 
Stephen lifted his head from the microscope to stare at her. "Palladium poisoning? Is the patient chewing on engagement rings?" Seriously, palladium? 
"It gets weirder," Jada answered. "Calcium EDTA could solve the trick, but for whatever reason the patient is being continually exposed to this palladium and it's not leaving the body. The smoothie," she nodded to it, "was on us to make from the first day we got here, to treat symptoms and to limit the spread of the poisoning. We've added a couple other things to try and help the patient's body fight it. Start making a cup; we leave it at the slot and they collect it with our dishes." 
Normally Stephen would not be thrilled to be ordered around as such, but again, his circumstances weren't exactly normal—and his brain was still trying to come up with an idea as to where someone would be continuously exposed to palladium, of all things. 
As he began to make the drink and Jada returned to her own work at the microscope, he asked, "And I suppose that you've been tasked to find some sort of permanent cure against continuous palladium exposure." 
"Bingo," she answered. "During my second week here we began experiments with lithium compounds after we saw potential in the samples. After Doctor Mahajan arrived, she suggested lithium dioxide which has had the most effective results in slowing the poisoning. Several tests later, Steffen synthesized a stable mix with the least likelihood of side effects. 
"But as you saw, it slowed down the spread of poisoning; it hasn't done anything to fully stop it or repair the damage. We're still seeing a deterioration in the patient's tests. The current trend is leading into a direction that, if we don't figure something out soon, will leave the patient dead in two months—even with regular lithium dioxide injections." 
Stephen's frown remained a permanent fixture as he mixed the strange smoothie and listened to her. "Do these people know this?" 
"Yeah," she answered. "And a couple days after we told them, Summer arrived. We're still trying to find a more permanent solution, but she was given X-rays yesterday." 
"Doctor Weston did mention an X-ray earlier." 
"I haven't had a chance to look at them yet. I guess they are having her explore another avenue." Jada jutted her chin to the smoothie. "Cap the smoothie and leave it by the door; Steffen will put everything that needs to go back to them into place in the container. And if you're up for it, I could use a hand inputting all my notes into the computer." 
It was something to do, so he agreed.
—————  
It was 11:13 P.M. according to Stephen's watch when he agreed to take the sleep shift after Doctor Mahajan starting at about 12:30 (at least in New York). Steffen Baar had been after Meera Mahajan before Stephen's arrival, but the chemist wanted to finish some experiments that would take more than two hours to complete, apparently, so they 'may as well start the new shifts now'. 
So Summer Weston pulled him away from his transcribing work with Jada Ferguson to discuss some matters with him before he went to sleep. 
"Your latest paper on neurogenesis was fantastic, Doctor Strange. Some of the more complex concepts went beyond my medical knowledge, but what I did understand really excited me for what we may see in neurosurgery in the future."
His ego ate the compliment with ease, but he replied politely, "Thank you, Doctor Weston. Your own pioneering work with robotic cardiovascular surgery is bound to help cardiothoracic surgeons across the world."
She waved a hand. "Summer, please."
"Call me Stephen, then," he said. "You mentioned you had some X-rays?"
"Yes." They reached her workstation and she clicked on a folder on her desktop. "They're not incredibly helpful, though."
He was about to ask what she meant, and then the first image came up. Stephen raised his brows. The image was of a male torso with several splinters of some sort of foreign body scattered throughout the chest. But instead of showing the entire affected area as an X-ray usually would, the image was cropped midway up the torso, leaving off the upper chest entirely.
"And this one is why you're here, I'm afraid," Summer said, and again he was presented with a strangely cropped X-ray. This one was taken from the side; the spine and a couple inches of the body was shown, but it was cropped before the sternum. In what he could see from this X-ray and in comparison to the first one, there were a couple shards dangerously close to peripheral nerves and one uncomfortably close to the spine.
"How is this man still alive?" he muttered. "Are these shards causing the palladium poisoning?" What palladium item would create such trauma in the first place?
"It's amazing he's alive," she said in agreement. "And take a look at the heart X-ray." She went to the image (again cropped to cut off view of the sternum) and, other than the foreboding shards lodged about the area, he immediately saw the issue.
"His heart is too far left," Stephen muttered. "What's pushed it there?"
She offered him a slight smile. "I have written to them," she gestured to the computer, "that I will not be able to give them an accurate idea of surviving a surgery without full chest X-rays at the least, and that I would definitely need an orthopedic surgeon or neurosurgeon for the shards near the nerves." She then gave him an apologetic look.
Stephen didn't bother answering; what was done was done. "They can't expect us to perform surgery on this man without a full X-ray at the least."
"I don't think they want us to," she answered. At his questioning look, Summer clarified, "They're still trying to find a more permanent solution to the palladium poisoning with the other three, but they are running out of time. We're more of a last resort."
He wasn't quite sure how he felt about being a last resort (he felt a bit miffed, actually, but he had enough sense to realize that this was not a good time to express his annoyance). "Doctor Ferguson said two months at most." Stephen looked again at the X-ray, and he found himself frowning; something was tickling at the back of his mind, some piece of knowledge that was relevant to all this, but it remained elusive.
"Hopefully they won't wait until last minute for the surgery, then," she answered.
Stephen spent the rest of his time awake studying what imaging and tests had been made on this male patient (obviously no MRIs); but alongside the cropped X-rays there were extensive blood tests, images from a CT scan, urine tests, lung function tests results, and cardiac function tests. There was more than enough data to read through and get a better idea of the overall health of the man he might have to perform surgery upon.
When he eventually took his turn to sleep, he was exhausted and fell quickly asleep. Stephen's last waking thought was the puzzle of the palladium and the niggling, niggling suspicion that he was missing something he already knew.
————— 
A/N: Tony's injected with lithium dioxide in Iron Man 2 to slow his poisoning. In reality, this chemical compound doesn't exist. Its real-life cousin, lithium superoxide, would definitely not be good for his body considering you use Kelvin to measure its temperature (aka very very very cold). It's other cousin, lithium peroxide, doesn't seem nearly as bad, but not exactly what you'd call anywhere near accurate science. But this just means that the fic can get away with some Hollywood Science. 
Hollywood Science is used in the ingredients for his symptom-counteracting drink (for instance, chlorophyllin has no proven health benefits, just conjectures, and treating metal poisoning is a good deal more precise than I write here and the ingredients are all rather loosey-goosey, though I try to put some real world logic into it). Huzzah!
Medical people: if you see anything blatantly erroneous (and clearly not Hollywood Science in the form of fictional treatments), please let me know.
Tag requests: @sobeautifullyobsessed, @tashacumberbitch @babywarg, @nishtha3012, @ragingstillness, @walkin-in-the-cosmos, @lafourmii20. Others: Let me know if you want to be tagged for future updates in a comment (as it won't be on AO3 for a while and has no steady update schedule planned). Or let me know if you want to be removed.
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15dots · 3 years
Text
Gemina: The Illuminae Files _02
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Synopsis
Moving to a space station at the edge of the galaxy was always going to be the death of Hanna’s social life. Nobody said it might actually get her killed.
The saga that began with the breakout bestseller Illuminae continues on board the space station Heimdall. Hanna is the station captain’s pampered daughter, Nik the reluctant member of a notorious crime family. Little do they know that Kady Grant and the Hypatia are headed to Heimdall, carrying news of the Kerenza invasion. 
When an elite BeiTech team invades the station, Hanna and Nik are thrown together to defend their home. Soon, Hanna and Nik aren’t just fighting for their own survival. The fate of everyone on the Hypatia - and possibly in the known universe - is in their hands. 
But relax. They’ve totally got this.
They hope. 
Quotes:
“I cannot help but wonder if the thought of saving all those lives and hopes and dreams pales in comparison to the thought of seeing him again. I wonder.” 
“▆▆ me that felt weird. Like someone threw a rainbow at my head.” 
“Patience and Silence had one beautiful daughter and her name was Vengeance.” 
“It may comfort you to know that your death while astonishingly violent, will most likely be mercifully swift.” 
“And now, born from the ashes, she’s a warrior in bloodied black.”
Welcome back to the Illuminae Files where, after reading Gemina I am left to search for my pulse and heartbeat. 
You read that right folks, I am deceased. 
But before I tell you why, I would like to put a disclaimer that this review (or whatever this is) will have spoilers. So if you haven’t read the book or Illuminae, oh well, get ready for spoilers I guess. Do not fret however, I will warn you of upcoming spoilers. You’re welcome ;). 
Also, if you haven’t read my previous Illuminae post, go check that out first or after, whatever you decide. 
Alrighty, Gemina yes, one word. 
Deceased. 
Me. I’m deceased. 
I finished this book last night and let me tell you I almost threw this book across the room. Three times. It was near midnight and I almost screamed. Bottom line, I have thoughts. Many of them. 
So buckle up kiddos, this is gonna be a long one. 
Fair warning. This book might have slightly mature themes, like drug production and use (which is very pertinent to the plot-line, iykyk), sexual innuendos, sexual tension, an annoying sexual song about lollipops... yeah you get the gist. 
Let’s start by introducing Hanna and Nik. “Highness”, as Nik like to calls her, is a daddy’s girl. If she lived in our world she would probably be asking her daddykins for dresses and bags she doesn’t even need. However, she’s a black belt. So maybe don’t make fun of her... 
Nik, on the other hand, is the typical bad boy, tall, lean, with abs, tattoos up his arms, torso and neck. Served time in juvie where he obtained such abs. But he has dimples. Dimples. He’s also, like, really funny. Like what he says...
I’ll give you an example (He’s typing this by the way): 
“So you can me all to yourself. He says winking suggestively.” 
I like him- ahem, that speaks for itself, moving on. 
This story takes place on the Heimdall space station where the Hypatia need to pass through to the Core to inform them about the Kerenza attack. Everyone is getting ready for Terra Day, getting ready to party, to get drunk, high probably as well. Hanna waits for Nik to give her her dose of drugs for ‘party favours’. Her boyfriend, Jackson, waits for her at the Atrium which is where Terra day is being held. Nik is running late because of a ‘package’ arriving at the station. Hanna gets impatient, Jackson gets nervous, Nik just gets tired because that kid sure can smoke.
Then it all goes to crap when the station gets invaded by BeiTech Industries. Remember them? The jerks who invaded Kerenza to destroy the illegal mining operation and mass murdered hundreds of people? Yeah, it’s them again with Leanne Frobisher (SPOILER), Ezra’s mum by the way, their director. 24 of their ‘goons’ are there to clean up their mess and exterminate the Hypatia and the Heimdall with a drone fleet which will hopefully, for them, eradicate witnesses of the Kerenza attack. 
People die, cry, scream. The Atrium and Entertainment Center are the areas where they are trapped in which are guarded. Hanna and Nik, on the other hand, are trapped outside with the BeiTech baddies. It is up to them to save everyone.
Like the previous book, the story is told through a dossier of files and whatnot. Their main source of communication at the start is a programme called WhisperNET then they switch to palmpads (from my knowledge is quite similar to phones) because y’know the bad guys can track em’. I have one problem, one issue that I would like to address and discuss with the publishers or whoever is responsible for the layout of this book. 
Which fool decided it was a good idea to place black text onto a near black background? I couldn’t read crap. But I don’t know if that was on purpose...
Anyways, the invasion happens and Nik and Hanna are split up from each other. Nik has a cousin, Ella, who (like Kady) is a tech wizz and tries to help the pair with opening doors and being their eye in the sky. I mean, you need a character like that in a story such as this one. 
But BeiTech are not the only monsters. There’s another problem. One that is rather... disturbing. 
SPOILERS  (it’s more gross really).
Alright, remember how I said that drugs were very pertinent to the story. Well turns out you can have drugs made from organisms ‘colloquially’ known as ‘lickers’ and it rubs me the wrong way. I was uncomfortable to say the least. And seriously, while reading the Unipedia file and descriptions of the lanima, I swear I cannot see why that had to use the word “secrete’ or ‘secretion’ so many times. 
To make matters worse, they make their entrance by slithering out of dead cows’ bodies. Just imagine the Stranger Things demogorgons in Season One in their baby forms but longer and with four heads and sharp needle like teeth crawling out of a dead cow.  Again, was I uncomfortable? Yes, yes I was.  
You see, Nik’s crime family loves making drugs from within cows’ bodies. I mean, this is some Stranger Things crap right here.
You know what makes them even more terrifying? Before killing their prey, they secrete (ugh) this fog like substance out of their skin that makes them high. Yeah, you’re high before these slime-balls kill you. So really you wouldn’t know what hit you, until the kittens and rainbows turn into black and you’re just a brainless, soulless person. They suck your face off, basically. And not in that way, you nasties. 
It was thanks to these lanima that a page scared me. Yes, a page (pg 368). What the crap did they put in this book? 
What I really enjoyed was how Hanna and Nik’s relationship progressed throughout the story. Like Kady and Ezra, they were able to joke around while under immense pressure. And to be completely honest, Hanna and Nik had higher stakes this time around. 
When they were still bantering and tip toeing around each other, I was like, “ugh, just kiss already, goodness.” I was more relieved they kissed then surprised. Honestly, it was about time they did, I almost choked on the sexual tension. 
OH and AIDAN makes a comeback and let me tell you I was so happy. AIDAN follows the movement of the lanima and it describes it in such a creepy way that shivers went down my spine. 
I do not like those lanima slime balls. Periodt. 
During the last pages of the book though, I almost had a heart attack. Can this book just let me breath? Please. For just a second. Oh my word. Just one thing after the other slapped me in the face until I questioned my sanity. Like the ending? WHAT THE FLYING CRAP WAS THAT ABOUT?
I don’t want to spoil too much for those who haven’t read the book or haven’t got the guts to do so anyway but overall, this book was just a roller coaster of a ride. No complaints. Only that the publishers and authors do something about the black on black formatting. Please, we don’t want to be squinting at pages like we need glasses (my apologies to those reading with glasses, you know the problem first hand).
Anyway, it will be a while until I can finish this series as I don’t have the third book, Obsidio. I know, sad face. But alas, I will wait after Christmas (because sales, duh) to obtain the last piece of the puzzle and hopefully I can get a break from feeling like I’m dying. But I am really enjoying this series; one of the best ones I’ve read in a while!
So, until next time. I might do small book reviews here and there so that’s good at least. So stay tuned kiddos and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Let me know how this book treated you. Or don’t. Depends on what you decide.
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unproblematicme · 4 years
Note
Not exactly Top!Crowley, but can I have some angsty ineffable problems, maybe with Anathema or Madame Tracy as matchmaker?
I hope that’s along the line of what you had in mind. :)
“Crowley, you are being ridiculous,” said Aziraphale.
“Ridiculous?” Crowley asked furiously. “I’m pouring my heart out here and you call me ridiculous?”
“Your heart…” Aziraphale repeated, shaking his head with a sad sigh.
“Yes, my heart, angel,” Crowley snarled. “Is it so unbelievable that I have one? I do and you’re all I ever wanted.”
“No, Crowley,” Aziraphale answered, shaking his head. “I’ve been around you a long time. You’ve been with humans, flirting, on dates and… here.”
Aziraphale’s face darkened at the last word.
“That was just…”
“Sex? Yes, that’s what you always claimed,” Aziraphale smiled sadly. “But I saw that longing in your eyes. You really hate being alone.”
“Yes, I want to be with you,” Crowley said impatiently. “I lov…”
“No, Crowley, you don’t!” Aziraphale interrupted him with a pained expression. “I’m just the only person that won’t die on you eventually.”
Open-mouthed Crowley stared at the angel. He did not know what to say and finally Aziraphale left.
When Crowley had ended speaking of this horrible moment, he turned his attention to the two women in his home. They had noticed that Aziraphale and Crowley had not talked for weeks and curious as they were could not leave it alone.
“Are the ladies satisfied now?” he asked annoyed. “You have your answer. I told him that I love him and he doesn’t love me back. Ta-da!”
Anathema and Tracy exchanged confused looks.
“That… was really not what he said, dearie,” Tracy said.
“Right,” Anathema nodded. “From what you recounted he doesn’t believe you really love him.”
“Nonsense,” Crowley snarled. “Why would he think that?”
“We wouldn’t know,” Tracy said. “But you might.”
“Well, I don’t,” Crowley snapped. “If you now could…What the Hell?”
Anathema put her hands against Crowley’s temples and he was hypnotized by the deep brown eyes that stared into his golden ones. It was impressive how powerful the witch had become, her magic flowing through Crowley’s mind.
“What are you doing, bookgirl?”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If the answers are in your mind, you will find them!”
Crowley felt dizzy and suddenly Anathema, Tracy and his flat were gone. Well, actually he stood in his flat, but in a version of a long time ago, with pieces of furniture and décor he knew he had gotten rid of long ago. But the most impressive thing was that he saw himself and Aziraphale.
They stood in front of a pile of clothes Crowley planned to discard. The angel picked up a leather jacket, with shiny strass ornaments on it.
“This jacket seems in a very good condition, dear,” he said.
“Maybe, but I got enough of that old thing.”
“You bought this six months ago.”
“You know me, angel. It bores me, I kick it out.”
An inscrutable expression rushed over Aziraphale’s face.
“Yes,” he finally said quietly. “You grow tired of things.”
With a grin Crowley patted his friend’s back.
“That I do,” he said, sauntering towards the front door. “You coming?”
The scene faded.
“It’s my turn, Crowley.” Aziraphale was leaning against the kitchen counter, Crowley on the other side.
“That really isn’t your scene.”
“I guess,” Aziraphale murmured, but then he smiled. “But I could come with you. Support you.”
“No need. That’s pretty standard – for a demon,” Crowley said.
“Oh.” For a moment the angel looked disappointed, but hopeful when he tried again. “Then just to keep you company.”
“I really want to get it over with, angel.” Crowley shook his head. “You’d only hold me back.”
“Of…of course.”
“Okay, I’ll be off. Lock the door when you leave, will you?”
Crowley left and the scene faded.
A sloshed Crowley was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, drinking a clear liquid from an unlabeled bottle. Empty glasses, bottles, litter as well as bras and panties covered the ground. Suddenly a bright light shone for a second and Aziraphale appeared, letting his gaze wander with a frown.
“Good party?” he asked dryly.
“A blast!” Crowley slurred.
“Crowley, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, all great.”
“Why are you doing this every night? That’s not…”
“Not what? Healthy? Moral? Of substance?” Crowley mocked. “Newsflash!” he pointed at himself. “Demon! I don’t do health, moral or substance.”
“But you could.”
“Nope, couldn’t. That’s what my existence is meant to be like. And I love it,” Crowley garbled, his tongue heavy with alcohol. “Dinner?”
“Hardly, dear, it’s 8 am.”
“Oops,” Crowley chuckled. “Breakfast then?”
“I’d love to,” Aziraphale smiled. “But I don’t want to steal you away from your… friends.”
With a raised eyebrow the angel took a bra’s strap between his fingers to lift the lingerie up.
“Pffff,” Crowley made as he – with effort – got to his feet. “As if one of them cared enough about me to stay after the party is over. Demon, remember? Nobody loves me.”
Aziraphale touched his arm to stop Crowley from stumbling towards the bathroom.
“I do,” he said softly, a nervous timbre in his voice.
“You don’t count,” Crowley hiccupped between two burps. “You love the whole world. It’s your thing. You’re an angel.”
For a moment Aziraphale’s face was emotionless. Then he smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes and nodded.
“I suppose I am.”
Crowley pointed at him with a nod and a wink and tottered away.
The scene faded.
With a gasp Crowley returned to the here and now, meeting two curious pairs of eyes.
“Are you alright, dearie?” Tracy asked.
“Yes, but I’m an idiot.”
“Hmm, and I was hoping you’d get some new insights,” Anathema deadpanned.
“Shut up, witch!” Crowley growled as he grabbed his car keys, but turned back to her before running out. “And thank you.”
The Bentley drove fast to the bookshop. Even faster than usual.
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jaeknightorbats · 4 years
Text
Tunnel Caprica [M]
Pairings: Baekhyun x Sehun (SeBaek) 
Ratings: NC-17
Genre/AUs: Smut, dark romance, slice of life
Description: It was a normal day for convenience store worker Byun Baekhyun when Sehun—a wealthy looking man—entered the store, only getting overdosed by drugs afterwards.  It was the encounter that would change Baekhyun’s life. It was the encounter that introduced him to a world that should never exist in this already problematic world. 
Warnings: Graphic sexual content, substance use, drug overdose, alcohol, and strong language
Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (NEW!)
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Synopsis: Tunnel Caprica connects two cities under the huge and long mountain ranges of the country Ioca [a-yo-ka], making it one of the longest tunnels in the world with a distance of nearly 40 kilometers. However, people choose to drive the 3-hour long pass than driving through the tunnel, because driving through the tunnel can be claustrophobic—an hour drive with nothing but repeating images of the never ending tunnel. But through the tunnel also hides the entrance to another world that Baekhyun is yet to find out.
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Part 1
Word count: 3.9k
Just a single response—a single response that could make everything better.
Or could make matters worse.
It had not been long since his girlfriend replied—five hours outmost. But five hours felt like a day to him. Getting used to quick replies, it’s making him crazy as to why he wasn’t getting any response even after sending her messages and giving her calls.
She’s mad.
He couldn’t help but think, and it’s making him weak. He doesn’t like anyone getting mad at him, especially if it was her.
Ple—
He stopped typing. He shouldn’t bother her, she’s at work. He shouldn’t annoy her. She must be annoyed. He wasn’t at work—it was his rest day, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his phone. Nothing worse than that—overthinking.
He dug his face on to his phone, praying to the gods to make a miracle for him.
He waited, and he waited. Still got no response.
Maybe staring at the screen would make a difference. He stared at every icon he could see, scrolled from side to side.
Why am I lying to myself?
Nearly 30, he was, but he could be still naïve at times. He was a high school dropout with divorced parents.
What divorce? They have no money for such things, his parents only lived separately, and things were too confusing for him. He ran away from his home at the age of 17, and started to find ways he could live on his own. Things never worked out for him, still broke at the age of twenty-nine. He’s renting a small, cheap apartment, and he had a third-hand car that needed constant maintenance. He worked at a convenience store near where he was staying, only a 15 to 20-minute walk.
Byun Baekhyun considered himself as a good-for-nothing, and was only working to survive. The only thing that was making him somewhat happy was his girlfriend’s affection. Now, the person giving what he wanted was mad at him.
He took a deep, hopeless breath as he dropped his head down to his table from where he was sitting. At the brink of losing hope, his heart jumped when his forehead felt the vibration of the table coming from his phone.
He didn’t check from who it was, and immediately clicked the notification and read the message.
Disappointed, he was, when the text message was from his carrier, reminding him that his phone bill’s due was approaching.
This girl, now this. His grip to his phone loosen, feeling weak—he could hear his heart beating. He felt like he was losing his mind.
A picture of his wallet flashed through his head, remembering exactly how much money he still had before his next pay. $43.05.
His phone bill usually cost $45.
He didn’t want to double check his wallet, it was too heartbreaking for him. He recently spent most of his money buying his girlfriend a nice dinner and a new phone—a phone she didn’t like that’s why they’re in a fight. She wanted an iPhone. He couldn’t afford such phone. He himself was sticking to his 3-year-old phone. As long as he could send his girlfriend a message, he was fine with any phone.
He pressed his eyes closed, thinking what should he do to pay his dues and to make his girl happy. His feet couldn’t stop tapping—he couldn’t think of a solution.
“Money can’t buy happiness?” he muttered to himself. “Bullshit.”
He stood up from his chair, threw his phone to the sofa just to release some stress—even a tiny bit. He needed a break.
He started walking circles in his small place, thinking of different things how to earn enough money to, at least, pay the bills.
Baekhyun never turned his head so fast when he saw his phone screen flashed from his peripheral view, hearing the vibration from the sofa. His feet dragged him fast towards the sofa and his hand grabbed the phone.
Disappointed again, it was from his friend, Park Chanyeol.
Im coming 2 ur place.
Baekhyun felt so pissed. He was hoping it was from someone better—his girlfriend. “I don’t need you to come,” he muttered to his phone.
Subsequently, a rapid knuckle impatiently knocked on Baekhyun’s door. It paused for a quick while, then started knocking again.
Baekhyun already knew who it was. He stomped his way to the door to stop the noise.
The grin on Chanyeol’s face faded, cocking his brow after he saw Baekhyun. “What’s with the face?” He made his way into Baekhyun’s place without permission and went straight to Baekhyun’s living room.
Baekhyun followed Chanyeol with a glare as he closed the door. “What are you doing here?”
What a stupid question—Baekhyun realized immediately. Chanyeol only visited Baekhyun for one thing, and one thing only—sniff drugs.
“I’m telling you, bro. You should break up with Yuri. She’s just using you,” Chanyeol said as he was pulling out his cheap snuff set from his jacket, placing it on the glass coffee table afterwards.
Chanyeol already knew what was bothering his friend, especially when Baekhyun made a face like what he was wearing. Nothing else bothered Baekhyun but women. Sometimes, Chanyeol knew Baekhyun doesn’t know how to straighten his priorities just for the sake of a woman.
But Baekhyun doesn’t like anyone minding his own business, so Chanyeol only watched him be stupid.
Baekhyun ignored him, and changed the topic. “Hey, when are you going to take home your shot. It’s taking a lot of space on my fridge.” He only had a mini fridge, it could only fit a few drinks and few foods.
“For as long as I don’t need it,” Chanyeol blatantly replied. “I don’t want my mom seeing that, she’ll start asking questions.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You already said that.”
Chanyeol still lived with his parents since he spent a lot of his money on the things he liked to snort.
Baekhyun pulled a chair on the dining table, and watched his friend do his thing.
Chanyeol carefully released a portion of his powered drug from a tiny airless balloon on Baekhyun’s table. Chanyeol pulled his wallet out and took a card to collect the scattered powder on the table and made a thin line with it. He licked the remaining powder that was on his card. Then, took his already-rolled-up bill from his kit. His nose made a loud noise as he snorted the powder. He twitched both sides of his nose and sniffed again, just to make sure his brain received that well. His eyes slightly became watery from the mild burning sensation that went through his nose. He cleaned the white dust excess on the table with his finger and brushed his gums with it—every bit counted.
Chanyeol sighed, satisfied, as he rested his head on the sofa.
“What was that?” Baekhyun asked.
“Heroin.”
Baekhyun was still a traditional man. Drugs never interest Baekhyun. He’s tried a pot, but it was never for him. He’s seen people around him done it, and he didn’t like what it did to them. Besides, these substances cost too much.
“By the way,” Chanyeol lifted his head up and pointed at Baekhyun, “I told boss you’re gonna take my shift tonight.”
Chanyeol also worked at the same convenience store, that’s where they met each other.
Baekhyun reacted, “What?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you. I have some business tonight.” Chanyeol winked mischievously—obviously planning something sketchy.
Baekhyun thought he’d have his rest day for himself.
Then, Baekhyun remembered his bills and his girlfriend.
Maybe he needed that shift.
“Breaking news: Kang Sunmi filed a divorce. The fifteen year old allegedly—“
Snapping fingers diverted Baekhyun’s attention from the television back to his manager who was in front of him. The manager pointed his pen to Baekhyun and said, “That news will stay for a while, customers don’t.”
Baekhyun nodded lazily.
It was past 3AM. He was on his second cup of coffee but he still felt drowsy, his eyes wanted to close itself. He’s not used to night shifts unlike Chanyeol, who could do any shift at any time of the day. Baekhyun still had an 11AM shift after his shift at 4AM. He’ll have less time for sleep, but a little more money for him. He needed every cent.
Less than an hour left.
There weren't many people at the store, so he was pissed off at his boss for being such an uptight motherfucker.
He couldn’t wait for his shift to end, he missed his bed. But he missed his girlfriend, Yuri, a lot more. She was still ignoring Baekhyun’s call and messages, making him miserable. He didn’t know how to make her notice him again.
I’ll pay her a visit after my shift. I’ll be there before breakfast, before she leaves for work. She’ll be surprised, see my effort and sincerity, he thought.
The idea washed away his sleepiness in a snap. He got excited to see Yuri’s face again. Baekhyun hoped she would forgive him and give him a kiss or hug.
His brain cells started to work actively, thinking of what things he should say.
How should I apologize?
Thinking of what he should do.
Should I text her first or knock straight away at her door?
Should I buy her a chocolate?
No, maybe hotcakes. She loves hotcakes.
He was alone with his thoughts, distracted by the challenges of love.
The bell on the top of the door rang when somebody pushed it open.
It woke Baekhyun up from his thoughts, his instinct greeted the customer who got in. “Good evening.” He, then, realized it was already early in the morning. He corrected himself, “Morning, sir.”
They were trained to greet anyone who came in the store.
Baekhyun watched the tall man take big steps as the man walked in, not even turning his head to Baekhyun’s direction. The tall man vanished from Baekhyun’s sight as he passed by the tall shelves.
Baekhyun had seen different types of people enter the store when he took night shifts on some occasions. There were people in pajamas buying food for breakfast, or maybe for their late night snack. Guards, drivers, and night shift employees buying coffee. Normal looking families who were on a trip buying snacks. Bunch of drunk teenagers wearing cropped tops and/or bomber jackets who came from a party buying cigarettes, or water for their friend who kept throwing up. People of any age wearing tacky clothes who were obviously on drugs—he could tell it from their teeth—buying lighters. Some people looked dangerous, he dared not to judge the things they buy, but they were usually alcohol and cigarettes. And, some men buy condoms.
But Baekhyun had never seen a person walk wearing sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses late at night?
What was also striking was the man was wearing an obviously expensive black coat. It was beautiful how vivid the color was; it was the blackest of the black he had ever seen. If the man came from a party, it must be a fancy one, might be a ball, or a fancy wedding of a multi-millionaire. Baekhyun thought the man was lost. The man should have asked his butler or driver to buy things for him.
A pair of heels started to echo his ears—it got louder as it got closer.
Of course, he has matching Italian shoes.
Even the most decent shoes don’t make a sharp sound like that.
Baekhyun turned his head to the man’s direction as the man got closer to the counter.
The man stopped in front of Baekhyun, still holding on to his items. He slightly lifted his head and scanned his eyes around the top shelves that were behind Baekhyun.
Baekhyun noticed the man was wearing a high-end brand of sunglasses. The way the light reflected on the black frame and on the black lenses, it was something else. His skin glowed as the light met his face, showing his healthy and almost poreless skin.
“Do you have anything besides Jack Daniels?” the man started to speak.
Baekhyun turned around and scanned the shelves himself. He knew the man was looking for something hard. “We have Johnnie Walker. Red, black, and double black.”
He rarely drank such expensive alcohol, but he enjoyed the scotch he recommended when he tasted it.
The man scoffed. “I’d take the bourbon.”
Baekhyun nodded and stretched his arm to reach the box of Jack Daniels.
The man placed his item on the counter. Baekhyun scanned the box, and the cotton balls that the man placed.
“Is that all?”
The man looked down at the front of the counter, turned his head from left to right, searching for something. He finally reached for something that caught his interest. He lightly threw the item on the counter
“That’d be all,” he said as he revealed a part of his side body under his coat, reaching his back pocket for his wallet.
“$27.14,” said Baekhyun after scanning the box of condoms—the ultra-thin one.
The man took another item in front of the counter the moment it caught his attention.
Baekhyun scanned a small bottle of lubricant. “$38.54”
The man initially took a hundred-dollar bill out from his wallet but he put it back. He extended his arm, slightly revealing a shiny silver watch under his sleeve, and gave three 20s instead.
The man looked at Baekhyun and said, “Keep the change.”
Baekhyun's eyes slightly widened, his lips curved upward. He couldn’t be happier, he needed every cent of money he could get.
It must be his lucky day.
“Thank you, sir!”
The man cocked both of his brows as a response while he put the smaller items inside his coat and carried the bourbon by the hand. Then, Baekhyun watched the man leave the store.
Baekhyun couldn’t stop grinning as he put the change on his wallet after he cashed in the payment.
“That was a nice watch,” he muttered to himself. It was like love at first sight when he saw the man’s watch. It was still at the back of his head.
Baekhyun looked at the store’s watch.
Ten minutes left before 4:00.
He started to fix his things at the staff room. Removed his tacky uniform under his white shirt, and wore a cozy jacket. He bid his goodbyes to his co-worker and manager and left the store at 4:05AM.
Cold wind blew on his face, making him shiver. He dug both of his hands on the pocket of his jacket, and started to walk across the almost empty parking lot.
He couldn’t spot a single person around. Few vehicles, yes. It was still early. The area of the city he’s in wasn’t exactly the busiest.
Baekhyun put a smile on his face. “I’m gonna buy hotcakes. I’m gonna see Yuri.” He felt excited. He tried to paint the look on Yuri’s face when she saw him at the front of her doors.
“We’re gonna have breakf—“
A long honk of a car distracted Baekhyun from walking. He turned his head where he heard the noise, but he couldn’t see anything—it was too dark, and the parking lot was too huge.
He turned around, checking if other people were around. But he was alone.
It was still honking, it wouldn’t stop. There was panic in Baekhyun’s eyes, his heart started to pound hard, he was nervous. Other parked cars seemed peaceful. His eyes searched everywhere, but he seriously couldn’t see anything. He started to walk hesitantly where the loud beep was coming from, he was unsure.
Silence.
Baekhyun’s ears rang and felt deaf after the vehicle stopped honking. But he was still worried. His feet wouldn’t move, his mind went blank, his ears still ringing.
Then, a tiny, orange light suddenly emerged from his sight from where he was walking to. The light was from inside a car. He could see tiny silhouettes in it.
He started to walk forward, but still hesitant. He turned his head from left to right to check if there were other people besides him. He was still alone.
The light got closer and closer as he walked nearer.
“HEELP!”
A loud screech of a woman alarmed Baekhyun, putting him to a stop.
“HEEELP!”
Baekhyun ran as fast as he could to the light, to the woman’s voice who cried for help. He saw the woman looking in his direction. Baekhyun was having a hard time to breathe because of the cold wind blowing against him, but he ran faster after he saw an unconscious man next to the woman.
Baekhyun panted heavily when he finally reached the vehicle. Him and the woman looked at one another with panic in their eyes.
“HELP!” The woman cried while she was shaking the man on his shoulders.
Baekhyun shifted his look to the man—it was the man who tipped him earlier. He was unconscious.
Baekhyun opened the door. “What happened?!”
The woman was in a state of panic, she didn’t know what to say. She was only worried for the man.
“Have you called 911?”
The woman blinked. “Are you fucking crazy?!”
Baekhyun looked around the vehicle. He saw a spoon, an elastic band, a syringe, a dust of power, and cotton balls. Baekhyun suddenly noticed the man had his sleeve rolled up.
“He fucking OD’ed?!” He concluded after he saw the things around them. The man got overdosed by some drug.
The woman didn’t know what to say. Her eyes were shaking—she was unsure if she should trust the man.
“You must call 911, or he’ll die!” exclaimed Baekhyun.
“No, no, no. Please don’t call them!” the woman begged.
Baekhyun knew if they called 911, they'd go to jail after he regained his consciousness because they were doing illegal drugs.
“Fuck,” Baekhyun cursed, he knew the woman won’t change her mind—he had met a lot of people on drugs, so, he somewhat understood. He removed his jacket, dropped both his bag and jacket on the concrete.
He stepped up to their high SUV and searched for the recliner lever of the man’s seat. But he couldn’t find it. “Where’s it?! How do you recline this fucking seat?!” Baekhyun yelled at the woman.
The woman jumped in panic, “Fuck.” She pulled something behind the seat of the man she was with to recline the seat.
Baekhyun lent his face to the man’s face to feel and listen if he was breathing. He wasn’t. “Fuck.”
“Don’t fucking die on me, Sehun,” the woman begged, pulling her hair. Her eyes began to tear up.
Baekhyun held the man’s face upward. He’s going to perform CPR.
He had his face close to the man, then the woman spoke. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
“Do you want him to fucking die?!”
Baekhyun exhaled all the air from his lungs and passed it to the man. He pumped his chest with both of his hands intertwined.
No response.
Baekhyun performed another around. He gave air, pumped the man’s chest.
Still, no response.
Baekhyun performed another, and another, and another round.
“Fucking shit. Don’t die on us, man.” He kept pumping his chest, sweat was breaking on his forehead despite the chilly climate.
The man wasn’t breathing.
Then, Baekhyun remembered his friend, Chanyeol. He remembered that he had Chanyeol’s adrenaline shot in his fridge.
“Fuck.”
Baekhyun carried the man on his shoulders and transferred him to the back of the car.
“What are you doing?!” The woman freaked out, confused. She followed them behind the car.
“Keep giving him CPR. I have something in my place that might help.”
Baekhyun went in front of the car, fixed the seat, and started driving. He drove as fast as he could to his place, he had the hazard lights on, he didn’t stop at any red light, he kept honking the car on every car that was on his way. Every second counted. The man could die at any moment.
They reached his place in 3 minutes.
Baekhyun carried the man on his shoulders and ran as fast as he could to his door steps.
Baekhyun’s eyes widened. His keys were in his bag.
He left his bag in the parking lot.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This isn’t happening,” he muttered to himself.
“What? What’s happening?!” The woman freaked out while she held the man’s face behind Baekhyun’s back, trying to wake the unconscious man.
“Fuck,” Baekhyun panicked. He didn’t want to let the woman know. She’d make him freak out more if she knew.
Baekhyun searched his pockets. He was starting to feel the weight of the man on his shoulders. Baekhyun gulped. Then, he felt the bulk in one of his pockets. It was his wallet. He remembered he had a spare key in his wallet.
He immediately took his wallet and searched for the key inside his wallet.
It was the biggest relief of his life when he felt the cold brass meet his finger. It was his key.
He opened the door, then carefully placed the man in his living room.
“Keep giving him CPR,” he ordered the woman as he ran as fast as he could to his mini fridge, and took a package on the top shelf.
He ran back to the man. His hands were shaking. He had read the instruction of how to use the shot countless times when he had nothing to do with his time and when he attempted to throw it away because it took a lot of space. Chanyeol had also told him how to use the shot once or twice just in case Chanyeol got overdosed himself. But Baekhyun still read it, just in case he read it wrong before.
But he was shaking, his head couldn’t think straight. There was an unconscious man in front of him.
“Fuck this shit.”
He’ll have to trust his memory.
He opened the package, and there was a tiny bottle that came with a huge syringe in it.
“Rip his shirt open,” Baekhyun commanded the woman as he tried to inject the 6-inch needle to the bottle with his shaky hands.
Baekhyun breathed heavily. He held his hand high over his head with the syringe, focused on the man’s chest. He had to inject the shot hard enough to get through his ribcage to his heart—to make his heart pump again with the adrenaline shot.
Baekhyun’s breath got heavier and heavier by the second.
Just a single response.
Baekhyun held his breath and stabbed the man with the needle.
A single response that could make everything better.
The man arose from his position, making a loud noise as he inhaled every air his lungs could get as he came back to life.
In a shaky voice, breathing rapidly, the man cursed, “Fuck.”
Or could make matters worse.
To be continued...
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Tunnel Caprica: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (NEW!)
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limited-practice · 4 years
Text
1. Pins and Needles
Happy October! Here's the first of what will eventually be 31 Goretober fics that will get written throughout the rest of the year, because I’m can’t write 31 fics in 31 consecutive days. If you can do that, you’re amazing!
1920 words of Swerve, Overlord, a massacre aboard the Lost Light and a love of fingers are below the cut. The prompt is Pins and Needles, and is taken from Drawkill’s excellent prompt list.
Warnings for gore, robo gore, amputation, suicidal thoughts, implied cannibalism and torture.
Ao3 link here
Swerve sits on his favourite barstool with a drink in one hand and a congealing mass of energon at his feet and wishes he was dead. 
But he’s learnt the hard way to stop begging Overlord to kill him. 
The first dozen times he’d whimpered and screamed and pleaded with the Lost Light’s new Captain to please just kill him had been met with amusement. Which had inevitably morphed into weariness. Swerve’s mouth had once again taken on a life of its own and he wouldn’t stop talking he couldn’t stop talking, because something might get through to this insane monster if he could only string the right combination of words together and there was still a chance he could live when so many had been butchered and he’d babbled and joked and pleaded and bargained and finally Overlord had lost patience and kissed him.
Swerve had gagged and kicked out sharply, but Overlord had held him effortlessly in place on his favourite barstool. The one that still spins smoothly; the one whose colour hasn’t yet faded despite constant use. It’s a good little stool, and he wishes he’d paid it more attention. He wishes he’d thanked it out loud. He wishes he’d done so many things differently. Overlord had kissed him for longer than he thought he could possibly bear and then slowly, with a long, long, squelching sound, had pulled away. 
Swerve had vomited immediately.
Swerve looks down at the wobbling mess he’s made on his ruined bar’s floor. He starts to cry. 
Overlord chuckles. Unlike Swerve’s voice, he doesn’t find Swerve’s tears annoying. Overlord pries the glass away from Swerve's hand and goes behind the bar to top the drink up.
Tears leak out of Swerve’s visor. “I’ll clean that up later,” he whispers.
“Here you go.” Overlord says gently, as he places a glass full of warm liquid back into Swerve’s hand. He curls Swerve’s trembling fingers around it. “Drink up. It will do you the world of good.” 
Swerve wipes his face with his free hand. He looks down into the glass and the thick dark liquid it contains. His damaged optical and olfactory sensors still have enough function to warn him that there are substances in the glass that he should on no account consume. They activate their branches of his alarm network as best they can. The warnings they send out are weak and muffled and dim, but they're trying so very hard to warn him despite being damaged by Overlord’s backhanded blow earlier. 
The cocktail looks like an overlaid grid of sharp lines and even sharper ends through his broken visor. It looks like it’s made from poisoned energon that would kill him after one sip. Maybe it will do him the world of good to gulp it down in one go after all. 
Swerve lifts the glass to his lips. And pauses. A niggling thread of his old life vibrates and plucks at him. Swerve tilts his head, and watches light from the shattered overhead lights illuminate the drink. He rotates the glass slowly. The liquid inside changes colour. But not permanently - it’s moving in and out of a different molecular state depending on how much direct light touches it. That must mean there’s optical contraction liquid in there. There’s part of someone’s eye in there.
Swerve shudders but doesn’t look away. And he certainly doesn’t throw the drink and smash it against the wall and scream and scream and scream. 
“Not your cup of tea?” Overlord asks him softly, his lips brushing Swerve’s ear.
Swerve startles violently, and spills the drink over himself.
“Oh dear,” Overlord says. “I spent a lot of time making that for you.”
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I'm sorry.”
Swerve paws at himself with one hand in a pathetic attempt to clean himself and return the drink to its glass. Liquid crawls down his plating and seeps into his transformation seams and sticks to him and it won’t come off, he knows it’s not ever going to come off of him. His fingers are covered in it. 
“Thank you for making it for me and I’m sorry I spilt it but I appreciate it I do I really really do,” Swerve babbles, as he glances down at himself and tries and fails to ignore the horrible tingling in his fingers. The sensors in his hands have erupted at the onslaught of chemicals sticking to them and they’re screaming at him, they’re screaming so loudly at him that it hurts.
“You clearly worked hard on this drink because I’m detecting things in it,” Swerve continues, because he’s never known when to stop talking. “There must be three, no four, no five, no...six? Six? There are different parts of six different people in here? Six. Six people. Six people liquified and mixed up to make this drink.”
Swerve looks at what remains of the drink. He swallows back another glob of vomit fighting to escape.
Overlord crouches down in front of him. There’s an expression in his eyes that Swerve doesn’t care for one single bit. He doesn’t care for any of Overlord’s expressions, but this one is unsettling because he hasn’t seen it before.
Overlord looks impressed.
“How did you know that?”
As always when he receives genuine praise, Swerve chuckles self-consciously and pretends not to fully understand. “Oh it’s nothing special, it’s just something I can do. It’s nothing. I’m nothing.”
Overlord’s expression then melts into one that Swerve is already achingly familiar with - impatience.
“You are refusing to answer my question.”
“No I’m not I swear I’m not.”
“How did you know that drink is made out of six people?”
Swerve unconsciously waggles the fingers of his hand that’s not holding the glass. 
“I, uh, just can,” Swerve says. “And I know I just said that but it’s the truth I’m not lying or refusing to answer you I swear it! I just...can. I was forged with these fingers.” 
He flexes his fingers as if playing an invisible instrument with them. 
“You are a chemist?” Overlord asks. 
“Metallurgist. A good one. Kind of. Sort of. Maybe. Ha. These, uh, my fingers, they- they’re tools of the trade. Essential actually.”
Overlord gently rests Swerve’s hand onto his palm. “Tell me about them.”
Swerve fights down another ball of vomit. “Uh...when we’re out in the field. Or in the lab. Or anywhere. And by we I mean metallurgists as a whole, not bartenders, not me, not-”
“Swerve.”
“Right. Yes. Fingers. Hands. I was forged with them and they’re brilliant. I mean I’m not brilliant, but my hands are. All metallurgists’ hands are. They’re essentially one big databank studded with sensors and coated in scanners that can identify every substance and chemical composition ever discovered. So long as it’s been recorded. Each finger has a neural link communications wire that goes up to my brain after it’s passed through my spark and t-cog, and it can download the latest materials update from the Academy when the Chief's second assistant remembers to send out the update after spending their day on more important things like sleeping at their desk, which means that if a new element or compound is discovered and recorded I’ll know about it.”
Swerve swallows dryly.
Overlord doesn’t say anything. Swerve chooses to see this as an encouraging sign.
“Some people say that my hands are better than medics’ hands. I don’t of course. And neither do the medics. They think theirs are way better. Well some of the forged ones do, even if they don’t say it out loud. You can always tell that’s what they’re secretly thinking though. And, uh, theirs are good of course - they’re better than mine in lots of ways. They’re faster and lighter and more dexterous. But mine are just as sensitive. And mine are studier and stronger. They’re more durable. They have to be, because if you’re out working in the field and a boulder lands on your hand you don’t want your fingers to be crushed because then what would be the point of keeping you around? They’re designed to survive rough treatment.”
Overlord holds Swerve’s hand up in front of his face. “Are they now,” he says softly. 
Swerve’s weak sparks dims further.
“They sound magnificent,” Overlord says.
“Uh, yeah, thank you. Thanks. Um. They’re pretty good. I kinda like them. In fact I like them a lot.”
“So do I.”
Overlord runs a huge fingertip up and down Swerve’s smallest stubby finger.
“So tell me,” Overlord asks pleasantly, “Who is in your drink?”
“...excuse me?”
“By using the power of your fantastic fingers, tell me who is in your drink. Let’s play a little game together.”
Swerve’s visor dims in tandem with his spark. “...I…I don’t...”
“I am not going to ask you again.”
Swerve looks down at his short feet dangling off the barstool and wishes he was dead.
“Uh…” he forces himself to concentrate. He forces himself to stick two fingers into the liquid in the glass. He forces himself not to yank them back out and immerse them in a vat of paint stripper. He pushes them down further until the fingertips touch the bottom of the glass. His exquisite sensors fire up and explode with data. He pushes that data up the wires that run through his fingers to his body’s connection points: spark, t-cog, brain module. He pushes past the roadblocks all three of them have desperately thrown up to try and prevent him from knowing. He collects. He investigates. He analyses. He identifies all six of his former crew members and wishes he was dead.
“Rodimus,” Swerve answers in a small soft whisper that makes him feel like he’s nothing. “I can feel remnants of his spark casing. It was touched by the Matrix and I can feel it. It’s still there. It’s still pulsing. Oh, god, it’s still pulsing.”
“Good!” Overlord beams. “Very good! Our former Captain made the mistake to keep talking to me when I’d asked him to be quiet, so he was the last to undergo this treatment. He got to watch the others go first.”
There are pins and needles in Swerve’s fingers. They crawl up into his spark and scratch at it with poisoned tips and he knows that they’ll never stop.
“Who are the others?”
Swerve recites their names quickly and doesn’t embellish. 
“Excellent,” Overlord purrs. He examines Swerve’s fingers. “I like these Swerve. In fact I think I like them a lot.”
“...thank you?”
“They could be very useful to my endeavour.”
“Yes I can be useful to you,” Swerve bursts out, as his self-preservation kicks itself into high gear and steamrolls his earlier thoughts of self-destruction. If he’s useful then he might be kept around. He might be allowed to live.
“I am going to have your excellent fingers for myself.”
Swerve’s too wide smile freezes. He feels his plating stretch and warp and start to buckle as he realises what Overlord is planning to do.
Overlord holds Swerve’s hand tightly and fans all of his fingers out. 
“No!” Swerve screams. “Don’t cut them off! They won’t work as well if you cut them off! Please don’t cut them off I’ll be good, I’ll be good.”
Overlord blinks. And then smiles slowly, like a smouldering black sun rising over a toxic yellow wasteland. “I don’t remember saying anything about cutting them off.”
Overlord jams two of Swerve’s fingers deep into his mouth and bites down hard.
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