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#Oh and has barely gotten to level 9
hiddenbysuccubi · 9 months
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I was sleeping on the bear when I should have been sleeping WITH the bear.
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calliopesdiary · 10 months
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"fallin' for ya"
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sirius black x danceteacher!reader
summary; romance blossoms between you and (whom you would never admit) your favorite student's brother (he has custody over her) after she tells you all about what he tells her Uncle Remmy.
warnings; sirius black has an adorable little sister, reader is a dance teacher, shy sirius black, romance
a/n; i assistant teach for the younger kids at my dance studio, and I came up with this fic during class, lol.
Part 1!
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"Good job, girlies! Have a great weekend!" You called out to the array of 7-9 year olds standing on the dance floor. They all started to pack up their things, a young, curly blonde haired girl came skipping up to you, smiling adorably up at you.
"Ms. Y/N! Ms. Y/N!" She jumped up and down excitedly. "Yes, Luna?" You turned around to face her. "My big brother wants to know how old you are!" You crouched down to her level, "Your... Brother?" You wanted to make sure you heard her right. You'd certainly seen her brother, and he was... not bad, (ifykyk). "Yeah! I overheard him talking to my Uncle Remmy about how pretty he thinks you are, so I thought I'd help him out by asking you how old you were!" She explained, It was cute, but your mind raced a hundred miles per hour as you tried to comprehend what this little girl was telling you. "Well... tell your brother thank you..." You struggled, trying to find the best way to respond, clearing your throat. "How old is your brother, Luna?" You questioned, seeing as all the other kids had gotten picked up by parents. "He's... twenty!" She answered with a smile. "Tell your brother I'm nineteen" She squealed, giving you a sweet hug and running off to the door, but stopped before reaching it. "Are you married?" She tilted her head to the side. You chuckled softly, "No, Luna" She squealed longer and louder before running off to Remus.
"Hey, Luns, how was class?" He held her hand through the parking lot. "Good, I talked to Ms. Y/N for Siri." She shrugged happily. "Oh? And what did you talk to her about?" He chuckled, looking down at her.
"I asked what age she was,"
"Why?" He chuckled
"Oh, You know! Just to make sure she was close to Siri's age."
"Oh." He responded, surprised
She sat down in the car, talking Remus' ear off. "I seriously think I've found him a girlfriend! She's gonna be my sister!" She squealed
"Dont get ahead of yourself, Luns." He reasoned, "They've barely spoken, No?" Sirius was gonna be pissed.
They opened up the door to Sirius' flat, She obviously came skipping in. "Siri! Siri!" She called, running up to hug her brother. "Hey, Dove. How was your class tonight?" He asked with a sweet smile, He had the biggest sweet spot for his sister. "So good"
"OH! By the way, Ms. Y/N says thank you, and that she's nineteen"
"S-Sorry?"
"And shes not married"
"Luna!!"
"What? I was helping you."
"You told her?? Luna!"
"Sorry, Thought you thought she was pretty~"
"Shut it, Luna!"
And Sirius Black was left blushing the rest of the day.
Fin.
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courtingchaos · 1 year
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There’s Levels To This
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
A/N: oh my god It’s the beach episode! Dip your toes in kids, the water is fine. This is for my dearest @chestylarouxx who has me yearning on the daily for beach shenanigans with one Edward Munson.
Warnings: Just sex and drinking in the sun.
18+ NSFW No Minors
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To say Eddie wasn’t your friend would be wrong. At every level he was dear to you, from a simple ride to work in the mornings all the way to your petty crimes partner now that the two of you were old enough to know better.
“A fall guy.” He’d said.
“Or at least someone with better eyesight.” He’d said, this time pushing your glasses back up your nose.
“Someone that has a getaway car.” He’d said while spinning his key ring around his finger. That callused digit bounces in the corner of your vision, thick and longer than yours. Nails bitten short with grime from the shop still under them.
You’re trying to hand the store over to the night manager and Eddie’s come in early. Beelined directly for you standing behind the elevated register and leaned all cool and carefree on your counter.
“I don’t want to get involved tonight Ed. Trying to leave town tomorrow if you remember.” You mutter at him while you try to finish counting the till.
“Well duh, I’m not gonna get us caught. We need to leave at what, 9?”
“We?” You lift your head and he reaches over and pushes your glasses up again.
“Yeah, you didn’t know?” He gives you mischievous smile. “Your mom invited me. Sorry you had to find out like this.”
“What’d you do to butter her up this time?” You drop the pencil on the till log and shove your hands onto your hips.
“Nothing! I simply told her how Wayne was going on his fishing trip this week too and I was gonna be rotting around the trailer all…by…my lonesome…” He leans in, props his chin on his elbow and gives you big puppy eyes.
You haven’t fallen for those in about four years.
(This is a lie. One of many but this one is a repeat offender in your repertoire of excuses for Eddie Munson.)
“Rotting?” You jerk your hand in front of your hips. “Is that what they’re calling it now?” You grab the till and hand it over to your replacement and she gives you a nod and directs a long suffering sigh at your shadow.
“You think I wait for Wayne to leave town? Barely can wait to get home sometimes.” He grins. “Your bathroom is remarkably soundproof, did you know.”
You smack him in the chest with an old stack of magazines. “You’re a pig.”
“Yeah well what’s that make you?” He follows you to the back, management having long gotten over trying to tell him anything.
“The prize pony whose stall you keep breaking into.” You seethe at him. It’s all in good fun but he still pauses in the doorway and squints at you. He opens his mouth, plush lips forming around a word before he seems to think better of it. Runs his tongue along along his top teeth and leans again while you get your stuff together.
“Do you even have swim trunks?”
“No, that’s why we’re going to goodwill.”
“Please tell me we’re not stealing from goodwill today.” You ask when you walk past him again.
(You do this thing where you never ask him to move. He wouldn’t anyways but you always use this excuse to brush against him. You think he’s gonna complain about tits pushed into his chest? Ha.)
“God no. I wanted to break into Harrington’s pool.”
“Oh, a little B and E before we skip town?” You do a little shimmy and Eddie laughs.
“Yeah. Running away to Florida with your mom and her boyfriend. So inconspicuous.”
Eddie finds the most obnoxious pair of neon pink trunks and you run him into the ground with your teasing.
“Between your pasty ass and these, you’re gonna blind those poor panhandle girls.”
“Listen pet, they’ve never seen something like me before. I’m gonna have jaws in the fuckin’ sand.” He keeps flicking through hangers of swimsuits and misses your face exploding through 10 expressions before you hack out a sound that makes his head whip up.
“Pet?!” The disgust is thick in your tone and on your face.
(Another fake out. The day Eddie stops giving you nicknames is the day you cease finding happiness.)
“Yeah you know what, I don’t like it either. I heard it somewhere and wanted to give it a shot.” He shakes his head and grimaces and quickly yanks a hanger to hold up the worlds tiniest bikini.
“Found your suit.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You’re slime.”
“Oh come on, you need something to wear to the beach. Unless you’re going stark because then I need to rethink my whole outfit.” He snorts and playfully tosses his suit over his shoulder onto the ground.
“I’ve already got one.”
“Aw, we didn’t even get to go shopping together!”
“Eddie?” You sigh and his head pops back up over the rack after picking up his dropped clothes. “Shut the fuck up.”
He drops you off at your house so you can finish packing and he goes to his trailer to start. You agree to be ready by 10 so it’s dark enough that Steve’s neighbors won’t call the cops.
(You spend the two hours mindlessly folding laundry and imaging all the tanned southern belles chasing after Eddie and his tattoos on white sand. When you try to pack your socks they’re shoved into tight balls and none of them match.)
“Is this even crime if Steve knows about it?”
“Steve doesn’t know when we’re going so yeah, still crime.”
The drive into Loch Nora is full of Eddie’s ‘songs about weed’ mix until you hit the neighborhood entrance and then Eddie kills the radio. He drives the speed limit and keeps the windows rolled up and slides seamlessly into the Harrington driveway like he belonged there. It isn’t long before you’re both shimmying over the fence and stripping clothes, leaving them like a trail to your crime scene. Eddie cannon balls into the deep end and you wade down the stairs slowly.
The water is hot like the air is hot, barely a difference between the wet and dry parts of you.
(The wet parts of you are definitely wetter when Eddie breaches the water. He’s got chlorine in his eyes so you get to stare longer at his curls flattening to his head. The blue light of the pool reflects off his pale skin and his tattoos come alive under moving water.)
“Oh okay good, I can still swim.” He sputters and runs his hands through his hair while he treads water. “Can’t be playing possum in front of the babes now can I?” He starts his slow paddle over to you until his feet touch the bottom and he can walk. The wet glistening on him has you clenching your hands under the water and hoping that he doesn’t see it.
(You’re good at this, the lying. To yourself and everyone else and especially to Eddie.)
“Is this the infamous bathing suit?” He flicks the zipper on your chest before miming an explosion around his head.
It’s a high necked, high cut one piece split down the front with a long black zipper. When you’d bought it you’d felt like the Babest Babe to ever Babe. Now though, with Eddie giving you an up and down glance you have some second thoughts.
Too much skin? Thigh? Ass? It’s no string bikini but it is tight and that zipper was hanging lower with every shift of your chest under the stretchy nylon.
“Gonna have to keep you in the cooler, baby.” He presses his finger into your bare shoulder and hisses. “Too hot.” He slinks backwards and falls in slow motion, arms spread outward to float.
(You notice it then and you think about it later, how he keeps his hips dipped below the water line. You won’t lie to yourself about keeping your eyes on him in the hopes you’d catch a glimpse of too tight trunks.)
“Shut up.”
“Make me.” He says to the night sky while he floats away from you.
You would if you could, but this isn’t that kind of relationship is it? Eddie is your friend, on every level imaginable.
Except that level that you don’t think about and keep locked in the basement of your imagination.
So you swim in Steve’s pool and Eddie pretends to be an alligator to try and pull you under.
He dives off the board and sits on the bottom of the pool to see how long he can hold his breath.
You sit on the edge and watch him wear himself out with laps and handstands and somersaults.
You sit and watch him glide through the pool like he was made from it.
You two get out of there without anyone noticing and he asks about the trip on the way back to your house. He asks about the drive and if your mom’s boyfriend will let him drive and what the hotel situation is like.
“Am I gonna have to share a bed with you?” He leans away from you, an overtly grossed out look shot at you. “You have those glacier feet and I’m not going to be held liable for any elbows in stomachs if they touch me.”
“You snore like a tractor.”
“But at least my feet don’t kill with their icy touch.”
Wayne drops Eddie off in the very early hours of 8 am. You can hear voices talking downstairs but then there’s heavy footsteps and then a huff and a shove of your shoulder and clammy skin pushing into your own sleep warm skin. Eddie smells like his morning cigarette and his peppermint toothpaste and for a fleeting moment you forget exactly what this is. That level you daren’t imagine is abruptly surface level and you roll back into him. Your nose smushes into his shoulder, your leg winds over his and you settle back into the pillow.
A solid few minutes of waking up and with every braincell that fires, your heart beats faster. He’s motionless like a corpse. Barely breathing judging by the little huffs against your pillow case.
“I am…so sorry.” The regret rolls off you and you shove off him to the other side of your bed, back pressed up against the wall.
“It’s okay I-“
“I was still asleep, I didn’t-“
“I shouldn’t have climbed in your bed unannounced.” He stares. You stare. The sheets between you two shift when you sit up and slide off the end of your bed to get up.
“I’m gonna uh…bathroom.” Stuttering and rubbing sleep out of your eyes you grab your pile of clothes and then sit in the bathroom for ten minutes.
(You lie the whole drive to Florida. 11 solid hours of kidding yourself, keeping a pillow shoved between yours and Eddie’s knees so your thighs won’t touch. Every pit stop you stare at him while he folds out from the back seat and think about wrapping your leg around him again.)
The motel is pink and blue and right on the water. The big arch that indicates the entrance to the beach welcomes you to Emerald Shores and while you don’t consider yourself a beach girl, it’s actually quite beautiful.
Your mom and her boyfriend have a room on the second floor and you and Eddie have been relegated to the bottom floor.
“Just call us peons and get it over with.” Eddie whispers at you from the corner of his mouth and you laugh before The Boyfriend can turn back around with your room keys.
Eddie spends all of ten minutes in the room before he just disappears while you’re in the shower. He comes back an hour later with a handful of shells and a pizza.
“What a resourceful Indiana raccoon you are.”
“Yes, and if I didn’t forage for us, who would?” He tosses the box on the bed next to your legs and you don’t miss his lingering stare on your calves. He covers it with a nod and a joke.
“You better wear socks tonight. I’ve already got the A/C set to 65, I don’t need you putting me on ice too.”
(You withhold the truth from Eddie the next morning by not waking him when you wake at 6 AM and find him latched around your middle.)
Eddie rents a spot with two chairs and an umbrella and he gets to talk to every girl walking the shore that afternoon. You’ve been alternating between PBR’s and waters and now to avoid the dark cloud trying to damped your mood you ratchet the chair back and scoot out from under the umbrella to take a nap. Eddie asks about 100 times if you remembered sunscreen and you tell him 101 times that yes you did and no you don’t need him to reapply it for you.
(Yes you do! If you’d stop being insane for two seconds you could have his hands on your back and over your shoulders and up along the high cut of your hip and maybe he’d dip those musicians fingers behind your convenient zipper and-)
“You might want to pull your zipper up then.”
You peak one eye open to stare down at your chest. From this angle your don’t have cleavage so much as a valley but the zipper on your suit has popped down a few more teeth and Eddie seems to have noticed.
“I just don’t want you burning is all.” He sniffs. You roll your head to look at him and catch his quick shift of attention away from you.
In your light napping you hear a few voices asking Eddie where he’s from and if his tattoos hurt. One girl says she loves his hair, “especially tied back like that, so cute.”
Another girl asks about his girlfriend.
“Oh her?”
You imagine he points over his shoulder at you with a big thumb.
“Yeah. You sure she doesn’t mind you talking to me?”
You’d love to sit up and point out that you’re awake and also that she walked up to him but Eddie beats you to it.
“Oh this is all a cover. She’s actually scoping out this beach.” He gets a conspiratorial lilt to his voice and you imagine he’s leaning forward and turning on his Munson Charm.
“For what?” Mystery girl number 10 asks.
“She’s an international jewel thief and she’s heard there’s some real old money around here.”
You snort and alert them that you are, in fact, listening.
“Wait, seriously?” Suddenly this girl sounds wary. She makes up an excuse and scampers off down the beach back to her tan friends.
“Swing and a miss, Munster.”
“No. I made you laugh didn���t I?”
If Eddie has to watch that zipper unzip another zip he’s also going to unzip all of his zips.
It’s hot, and he and his brain have been baking under the sun but he refuses to leave. With you laid out in that fucking bathing suit he can’t miss a single moment of you in it. He’s on his…sixth, maybe eighth beer and his looks get longer with every empty in the cooler. He can make out the tan line on your hip when you roll over and he almost inhales the last of his drink because you’re all legs and ass. He can’t wait for later when you’ll be laid out after your shower, shorts hitched up from you sliding down the comforter and he’ll be able to catch a glimpse of that darkening line along your butt.
“Fucking hell…”
“You wanna head back in?”
(He does. He really does. He’ll carry the cooler and his towel in front of himself to hide his eagerness. He’ll carry your shit too just to watch you walk unencumbered in front of him, leading the way back to the air conditioned heaven and your thin pajamas.)
Three days in, two left to go and Eddie has decided he’s done lying to himself. He watches you every afternoon out in the sun in your bathing suit or the worlds shortest shorts and the most cropped band tees that he thinks might have been his at some point. He watches you run and roll over sand and wade cautiously into the ocean. There’s this part of your stomach he’s positive he’s never seen before and he watches very closely for the soft roll of it to peak out from under your shirts.
(He’s wanted to sink his teeth into you for a while but this new body part makes his teeth hurt. He drools after your thighs and dreams of digging his fingers into the soft dough of your ass. He imagines while he watches you stretched out on your towel that you’d be so soft in all those hidden places and he imagines so long he lets his beer go hot in the sand.)
He walks to cheap little gas stations over hot asphalt and hotter sand to get beer with you. He’d worry you two were going a little hard in the paint but it’s Florida where it’s practically state law that you drink shitty beer by the 12 pack, daily, if your staying on the beach front.
He follows you around like a loyal hound and acts like a guard dog when these fucking dudes start sniffing around you. Tall and tan and smelling like sunscreen and ocean. Eddie walks close behind, your constant second shadow and these fucking dudes get the hint when he glowers at them.
“I don’t think Floridians take too kindly to us midlanders.” You chew on a fry thoughtfully, knee hugged to your chest.
“What do you mean?” Eddie is finally drinking water after two days and a midnight migraine reminded him why you can’t just exist off of piss water beer.
“That girl the other day didn’t think you were funny which, come on.” You roll your eyes and say it like it’s so obvious how funny he his and he’s instantly convinced he could chuckle his way into your cutoffs. “And these dudes, they practically cross the street when we walk down the same sidewalk.”
Eddie just hums at you and finishes his water. He watches you wipe your fingers on your rapidly darkening thigh and he wants to lick the salt and sunscreen off your skin.
You find this little seafood place for dinner and Eddie is surprised he even sees your mom and her boyfriend show up. They’re not unwelcome but he’s sure they haven’t left their room since they arrived.
He has to put real shoes on which throws him for a loop but it’s not fancy. Neither of you are that, especially after almost four days of bumming it at the beach and being mildly drunk for most of it. He’s still watching everything you do, convinced and baptized in the Florida sun and sand that he can tell you his truth finally.
He waits for a break in your conversation with your mom to tap his index finger on your knee. “Can we go to the gas station before we head back?”
“Of course. Need more beer?” You nod as you ask. “I don’t know if we’ve had our daily allotment.”
He laughs through his nose and when you turn back to answer your moms question his stomach does a nervous flip and he doesn’t trust the shrimp on his plate anymore.
“You didn’t finish your dinner.”
“Okay mom.”
“I just wanted to know if everything was okay. You’ve been quiet today.” You stroll beside him, sandals in hand while he carries a fifth of southern comfort that he nervously bounces against his thigh.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “just taking it all in a guess?” The sunset paints the horizon in a way that is alien to the sunsets in Hawkins. “It’s pretty.” He says that to the side of your head while you look at the sky over the ocean. Even in his shorts and his chopped up tee he’s sweating but the breeze coming off the beach tells him this is all nerves and maybe he wasn’t ready to say it.
“Wanna take a walk on the beach?” You stop at one of the entrances and nod your head over, soft smile laid out on your face.
“Sure.”
The light paints both of you in a soft pink light and Eddie really needs to buy your mom something, anything to show his appreciation for the invitation. He could have missed out on this, instead probably working overtime at the auto shop and drinking sadly by himself, counting down time till you or Wayne got home.
Instead he gets to watch you walk ahead of him and lead the way to a tall fishing pier. He watches you kick the sand around and look for shells to add to your new collection.
“Can I ask you something?” You don’t turn around, just trust that the wind will blow your question to him.
“Anything.”
You only stop when you get to one of the massive pilings, turning to lean your shoulder into it above the mess of barnacles. You stare at him, raking your eyes over his body and when he’s about to open his mouth you ask him.
“Can I kiss you?”
He’s 23 and not never kissed, just never been asked. Your open look shows your sincerity, eyes shining in the waning light, lip worried at by your teeth. He wants to sooth those nerves and kiss the salt air off of you. He chuckles, a light huff through his nose.
“Yeah.”
Your eyes light up as you get closer, dropping your handful of things into the sand.
“I’ve wanted to…for a while.”
“It’s not just my laissez-faire beach attitude drawing you in?” He drops the bottle behind him.
“No.” You smile before you kiss him. Soft hands on the side of his face bring him down and in, his curtain of hair blocking out the rest of the world. His lips are plush and a little chapped when they touch yours, damp from him nervously licking them before you’d bridged the gap. His hands find homes on your waist and he doesn’t miss the small sound you make when his fingers creep up under your shirt. You hold on to his face and push up into him and for a moment, he forgets you’re both on a public beach. He lets his hands wander to those hidden places and eats up your groans that you place directly in his mouth. It’s only when he hears the distant roar of an approaching atv that he comes to. Reluctantly breaks the kiss but keeps his forehead pressed to yours.
“Can we go-“
“Yes, please.” You snatch your things off the sand and start walking back towards the motel, his hand clutched tightly in yours.
Later he’ll come out of the bathroom still shaking sand out of his hair even after his shower, to find you watching tv. Still naked but wound up in the starchy sheets, one long leg left out so he can stare.
(That’s where he’d started as soon as the door closed. Backed you right up against the bed till you fell and he followed your leg up to your knee up to your hip, kissing off the sand and the salt and your sunscreen like he promised. He calls you sweetheart and beautiful and sweet like honey and he gets to watch you preen under his words.)
“Have a good shower?” You’re soft and relaxed into the bed, biting on a nail and watching him.
“Eh, so-so.” He didn’t bother with a towel, you’ve just seen him and he intends on you seeing him more.
(He was right. He was able to laugh you right out of your shorts. Nervous giggles while he inched up your stomach, tongue tasting soft skin and dipping in along your bellybutton. Like magic you were out of your shorts and out of your top and he’d had an idea that you weren’t wearing a bra but the light v of tanned skin between your breast makes him pause all the same.)
“Water pressure no good?”
“No, I still have fucking sand everywhere.” He kneels on the bed to slowly crawl over to you.
(He likes how you watch him. He realizes when he has one pebbled nipple in his mouth that you’ve been watching him for longer than today. Your heavy gaze directed down at him while he licks and nips at thin skin. He grabs and gropes your breast and you sigh and he thinks about buying this motel and never leaving.)
“Oh I’m sorry baby.” You coo at him. He hovers over you and shakes his hair above you.
“See?” And you squeal as sand litters the pillow.
(Your noises kill him softly. He’s heard you laugh and groan and yell before but not like this. Your laugh when he kisses up your neck sounds different that before. When he slides your underwear off and wastes no time pushing his fingers into your wet heat, that groan is deep in your throat. He’s not even fully undressed before he has you undone, loudly yelling his name and clutching his arm while he abuses that spot deep inside that makes you gush over his palm.)
“What the fuck Eddie!” You slap at him to get him off but he drops his weight and pins you in place. You still smell like sunscreen and ocean and cheap beer and he swears he’ll find a way to bottle it.
“I don’t want to leave.” He says sincerely.
(He can’t leave actually because this is the room where he got to touch you. A hundred kisses before he even gets his pants off, 50 more before your hands pull him from his boxers, another dozen or so while you lazily run your hand up and down his length and one final one before he pushes into you slow. He forces himself to keep his eyes open so he can watch. Your gasping and your reaching. The way you bounce under him when grabs the headboard for leverage and soundproofing.)
“This is nice, isn’t it?” You sound sad as you card your fingers through his drying curls.
“I mean…Hawkins can be kind of nice too. If you want.” His chest is tight when he asks his non question. Drops his truth out into the open like that.
(That tight feeling isn’t new, he’s always gotten that with you. Now though the levels are all different. You’ve kissed him and made him cum hot across your belly and you keep holding on to his head like he’s something precious to be kept safe and and and-)
“Hawkins can be nice.” Simple agreement makes his heart swell. He takes a deep breath and finally relaxes into you. You shimmy around to get the blankets over both you and Eddie’s dead weight. He plays with the ends of your hair laying against the pillow, white sand flecks sparkling in the dim motel lighting and decides he’s seen enough of the beach this week.
(You don’t lie to him much anymore, just enough to keep his ego in check. If he had any idea just how deep it all went, you’d never be able to pull him off the ceiling. He’s still a pig and he’s still slime but he’s your pig and your little plastic trash can container of slime. You’d be lying if you said Eddie wasn’t your friend, but the levels got all gummed up with sand and shells and now you don’t have to lie to yourself anymore.)
((Sacrifice for the read more))
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tuesday again 9/17/2024
come take this very very friendly little man out of my bathroom! he is fiv+ and we are in houston tx! i am willing to drive a couple hours for the right home! he is a good boy he's just orange! more details here!
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listening
emily jeffri's DENY off my spotify recommended weekly playlist: i can only describe it as "throbbing". immediately attention grabbing lyrics:
What kind of lover does your mother want? I'll do whatever, oh but you could not
very distinctly indie electronica. this would be the song in a cyberpunk/80s hacker movie where the chase takes you through an goth/alt fashion show where the models are actively giving blood as they walk or something.
i love the spotify daily mix for me and my bestie bc there's a guaranteed four bluey songs on it and it's a nice jumpscare. i know my mental health is taking a turn for the worse when a lot of mother mother starts popping up, i know my bestie's is taking a turn for the worse when a lot of girl in red starts popping up. suicide-watch-level sapphic angst singer-songwriter, generally. except for this song! extremely fun! didn't even recognize it as her! DOING IT AGAIN BABY is a more traditional selling-you-a-dodge-charger car commercial song and it's such a startling departure from her usual work that i wonder if it was a commercial commission? hard to immediately find out tho
I'm on a new level Something's got me feelin' like I could be inflammable And I might be I'm gonna light it up Nothing's gonna stop me if I say this is what I want
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reading
i read twilight (yes that one) at the behest of my bestie and bc my mental health could not have gotten any worse in that moment. it has led to some uncomfortable realizations about my high school experience i will save for a therapist. i am mostly putting it here to remind myself that i read this book this year.
^ this is some silly goofy nonsense. not that i think people shouldn't be recognized at their retirement, but what happened to giving people nice watches instead of a thousand dollars in plaques
Saying that, the records did reveal something actually interesting: although the individual contract I sent a request related to was for a few thousand dollars, an attached blank purchase agreement (BPA) says that “the government estimates, but does not guarantee, that the volume of purchases through this BPA will be $360,000.00 over the term of the BPA.” So, a lot more than a few thousand bucks.
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watching
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Hang 'Em High (1968, dir. Post). certainly not clint's sluttiest role but really up there. i do wish he kept the fucked-out little rasp for the whole movie :(
youtube
When an innocent man barely survives a lynching, he returns as a lawman determined to bring the vigilantes to justice.
it has a typical bizarre shoehorned romance that (i think) deeply undercuts the theme it wants to explore, but there is no on-screen rape. the bar is on the FLOOR with westerns and yet i DNF so so so many.
hell of a whump film. literally everything happens to jed cooper. i will trumpet this again from the rooftops: that character needs cbt both ways.
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playing
youtube
HIGHWATER, a 2022 adventure/turn based strategy thing from Rogue Games, courtesy of Netflix Games, whose game library is a fucking nightmare to navigate on mobile.
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i loooove a water-based postapoc. the boat does in fact handle very poorly and like a horrible inflatable raft on mobile, which is both charming and frustrating.
i do not love a turn-based combat. despite the vibes off the charts, including a very well integrated "pirate radio" station as the game's soundtrack, i am not patient enough to muddle through complex turn-based combat. i'm sure someone had fun fighting off six guys and two bears (who aggro anyone and can one-hit anyone) and then a further three guys who show up for backup but i gave it the good old college try over two days and wasn't able to swing it. it would be nice to have either a difficulty setting or some way to spectate the ideal fight, but alas. a lot of fun environmental stuff in the fights you can use to your advantage, like the bears and these trees you can flatten your opponents with in a much earlier fight. there's a fun mix of different characters with different abilities and different weapons you pick up and keep during fights. i have no specific beef with this game's choice to make this the way you move through the game, it's just not my preferred genre.
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a lot of book and newspaper collectibles in this one that i feel of several minds about. it feels less like environmental storytelling through newspapers and just the devs telling me their opinion when they provide little book summaries like this. also i wish The Industry as a whole was more thoughtful about using the word "insurgent".
not a game for me, i have once again confirmed that i cannot tolerate a turn-based combat no matter how much seafaring postapoc you drench it in :(
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making
got a Phantom Menace era curtain panel for $4 at the thrift, and i was convinced it was fabric someone had made into a curtain panel until i got home and discovered it was an officially licensed product with bafflingly generous seams.
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it's about two-ish yards of a 50/50 cotton/poly blend, which i feel like i haven't seen in a while? i think the current fashion leans more 70/30 or 100 poly for curtains i've purchased. after i finish unpicking the seams and pinking it, i am going to throw it in the wash again with some vinegar and see if that softens it up any, or if it makes the transition between the wear lines on the seams and the body of the fabric any nicer.
thinking about what kind of dress to make that 1) shows off this extremely large scale pattern 2) does not look like i am wearing a paper bag, and 3) does not look like the late aughts craft trend of sewing a twin flat Star Wars sheet to a tube top and calling that a dress, bc that's how hard up we were for feminine merch. much to consider. maybe it Will be a maxi skirt with pockets and i can wear one of my seventy black tees on top?
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year
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Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.
Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent
Chapter 3 - Please read chapter 1 first!
Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue
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It's only a couple weeks later, when Goo hasn't seen you at lunch, when you haven't reprimanded him for his sloppy uniform, and not even said a word to him.
That's when it gets to him.
It's no surprise that you're scared. People like you are gutless and weak. Running away in the face of violence, not understanding and not wanting to understand how the grimy underbelly of the world works.
Goo was mistaken to think you could be interesting when you stood up to him on his first day about his uniform.
He hates being wrong.
.
.
Goo Kim doesn't have friends. 
Acquaintances at best, who know him at surface level but never more than that. He holds his cards too close to his chest to let anyone in.
You were never a friend, not by any stretch of the imagination.
He knows he pisses you off. Revels in it, in fact.
Still, it's a routine he had gotten used to. Only being human after all, and humans do like routine. He doesn't miss you, just needs to adapt his lunch times to something else.
Even as he considers this, he can't help wondering about you. 
What are you doing and where are you hiding.
Are you making any progress or still as dumb as ever. 
If you make your feelings of contempt with anyone else so obvious. 
He has seen the murderous glint in your eye when he points out your mistakes and it warms his heart.
.
.
Goo finds himself stealing glances at you when you're in classes together. It's far more exciting than listening to the teacher droning on.
Studies the shape of your back, the colour of your hair. Memorises the gait of your walk, not realising it's all seared into his brain until it's too late.
.
.
"Are you ok?"
Taking small, tentative steps, you approach Goo sitting on the sidewalk. Bodies scattered around him and him, for the first time since you've met, looking worse for wear.
Disoriented and blood trickling from his scalp, Goo can barely hear you over the ringing in his ears. You repeat yourself a few more times before he registers your presence.
Adrenaline still coursing through his veins and reacting automatically at the foreign presence seated besides him, he raises the baseball bat-
His body recognises you before his foggy brain can, movement stilling when he sees your eyes widening and you flinching, knowing there's no way you can move out the way and almost bracing for impact.
"Oh," Goo lowers the weapon, "It's you."
"It's me," you repeat pointlessly. He can hear the tremble in your voice.
With a sigh, he removes his glasses, cleaning them with his torn shirt. "What do you want?"
You think about how stupid your question is, considering what the scene looks like. But you ask once more, "Are you ok?"
Goo spits out a mouthful of blood and you wrinkle your nose. He gives you his trademark oily smile. "Princess, I'm A-OK!"
"Oh... that's good then." You want to facepalm your inane responses.
"Anyway," he places his glasses back on and pouts. Another typical Goo Kim expression. "Didn't I offend your delicate sensibilities the other week with my fighting?"
You bite your lip, considering your response. Then, realising there's no point in lying, "Not... offended. I-" you rack your brain to see if there was a way to make you sound any less of a coward but- "I'm scared of you."
"Shame. That hurts my feelings," Goo quickly moves on, realising there is the tiniest grain of truth in what was supposed to be a sarcastic statement and not knowing how to deal with that, "And we were starting to get so close."
"We were?!"
"You know," he peers over the top of his frames, "We could have really been something."
You start to stammer some sort of reply. Before you manage any comprehensible words, you're cut off by Goo's hyena laugh. A bit too loud and a bit too jarring though it is still good to hear again. You smile, and don't bother to hide it. 
Nevertheless, you're still worried about him.
"Do you want to go to the hospital?" 
"Princess, I'm good." 
Goo dusts off his knees, now fully recovered and stands up-
Your hand shoots out, grabbing onto his wrist and yanking him back down.
"Hold on," you rummage around your backpack, "I've got a first aid kit here. Let me patch you up at least."
Of course you have a first aid kit in your bag. Goo chuckles to himself, it just fits you so well.
He is uncharacteristically obedient and silent as you clean up the dried blood and scrapes, leaving him neatly bandaged.
It's the first time anyone has ever done this for him.
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halfetirosie · 2 months
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🥥🤤🍖 Damn it, now I'm hungry... 🍖🤤🥥
(Exercise 14 - 16 React-os!)
1) Ah, yes, a man a few words... 😅
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I mean, to be fair, I assume Quincy has only ever participated in purely physical contests, so he might not know that he's supposed to elaborate?
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---I'm not the only one that read that a "magikarp" for a second, right??
Rei must still be suffering from the Pokemon Curse--first I misread his real name as "Jolteon," and now this! 😅😅😅
2) EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW!!!!! 🤢🤢🤢
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YOOOOO WTF?!?!?! (⊙ ᗣ ⊙)
I assume that this must be similar to how people will eat octopus tentacles, which still move after death? BUT I WOULDN'T EAT THOSE EITHER!!!! Dead things should stay dead!!!!!----And I think my gag reflex would jump into overdrive if my food starting moving around in my mouth!!!!!!
Poor Eiden is fighting for his life here, stretching as far as he can to find something nice to say about this meal from HELL!!!!!
3) Vegetarian surprise!
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(I thought the veggies would be a side-dish or a component of the meal, not the entire meal.)
At first I thought, "What do you mean by 'the limits of nutrition'? Is there such a thing as too much nutrition???"
But then I remembered that, YES, that is a very real thing! Consuming too much of a certain vitamin/mineral in a short time frame can actually be super dangerous to your health!
(I only remembered this because of a video essay I saw a while ago about a corrupt company in...I think South Korea??...whose upper executive would sometimes force employees to take huge amounts of vitamins, which made them get diarrhea/puke. It's fucked up.)
4) NEVER IN MY LIFE HAS THE EMOTIONAL_PIANO.MP3 BEEN SO TERRIFYING!!!!
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Kuya continuing to reach new levels of evil; weaponizing Garu and Yaku's goodwill and cuteness against Eiden!!! 😈
Foxy Grandpa for sure put some of his weird-ass magic on the meal, like that tea that causes hiccups. 100%.
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🤦‍♀️ Yup, it figures. That was a bit too obvious...
But fuck, Garu's sincerity here is too muchhhhh!!! How has he gotten this far and still trust Kuya's bullshit????
5) HELL YEAH, IT'S THE WORKAHOLIC DREAM TEAM!!!
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I said it before but I'll say it again; these dudes are coordinated as fuck!!! They're giving such a damn professional presentation of their dish without missing a beat---like they rehearsed it!!! (Honestly, I bet they did.)
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LOOK AT HIS SMUG GRIN!!!!
HE'S TOO GODDAMN CUTE!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡
6) Edmond, my love, I hate to break it to you, but...
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....there is NO WAY IN HELL that anyone else will want to consume that "special honey sauce." ♡♡♡
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....Scratch that---I don't think they'd even be capable of consuming that sauce at all!
If he can smell the sauce from a distance, then WHAT IN GOD'S NAME is in that sauce????
IS IT JUST HONEY WITH EVEN MORE SUGAR ADDED INTO IT???
....Don't answer that. I'm getting a cavity just think about it....
7) Awwww, look at them all pampering Garu!!!
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Rei might deny it, but he really does live up to his nickname of "Big Bro Rei!" It's adorable!!!
⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
8) Peepaw Kuya back at it again with his sensitive palate! 😂😂😂
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And Olivine is seriously too nice!!!
9) OH SHIT!!!!
🚨🚨🚨PEACEFUL YAKU/DANTE INTERACTION!!! 🚨🚨🚨
WHERE DANTE ISN'T ACCIDENTALLY MAKING YAKUMO GET STRESSED OR CRY!!!!
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Is this the first chill interaction we've seen of these two so far, or am I not remembering a different one? Whatever---
All the Yaku/Dante shippers rejoice!!!! 🎉🎉🎉
Shoutout again to From the Earth, Necatar, which lives in my head rent-free!
10) Not gonna lie, I'm pretty disappointed that we didn't get to witness Quincy grill...
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I guess Dante's too proud to give up his role as Grill Master; instead Quincy's in charge of "crackin open a cold one with the boys!"
....Unrelated, but I'm not the only one that expected Quincy to break open the coconuts with his bare hands, right?
11) HELL YEAH, MY BELOVED "PESKY LITTLE FIEND" WON THIS ROUND!!!!
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I mean, I knew he would, but the confirmation feel nice. :D
12) !!! Oh??? 😮
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Have we ever seen Karu's face look that scared before??? I feel like we haven't, or it's at least been a while!
13) Their bickering is as charming as ever---
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It's a little hard to tell, since Danteis up to his Tsundere Bullshit™ and hell-bent on victory, but I'm pretty sure he's having the time of his life right now.
In fact, I think Dante's competitiveness is a sure-sign of that. Getting caught up in a silly contest is his way of having fun, you know?
It's like when he kept competing with Edmond at the festival games during Chase the Rainbow. He gets himself immersed/invested in something inconsequential, and has a good-ass time!!!
(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
14) Honestly, this part completely went over my head at first... 😅
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I honestly don't know if Eiden's response was enough to confirm that he's secretly on Dante's team. Hell, I haven't even been theorizing about what Eiden's team might be or what his secret conditions are.
Usually I might've been trying to figure it out, but I feel like we've been given absolutely no clues in the story so far...Also, I have been hella busy lately---that's why my reaction posts have been slower lately---so I'm quite low on brain juice.
Idk man! This event is just so laid back, I don't feel the need to try so hard to figure it out. 🤷‍♀️
I'm just here to have a good time!
ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
🍖 End of report! 🍖
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canonically47 · 5 months
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DC review?
spoilers for disventure camp all stars episode 9: slip & sly!
(but you knew that.)
the episode was rather boring until the elimination. so let’s get into it:
yul is being a bitch and somehow still not paying for it,
alec is just getting more unlikeable,
tom and jake are little babies who cannot communicate their feelings and their arc just consists of repeating the phrases “i don’t want to be hurt again” and “it’s too late now” and it’s driving me crazy not because i want them back together but because they are pissing me off more and more by the moment, their drama always gets in the way when it could be solved so easily, they overshadow every arc and they are the reason so many scenes barely hit, they are the reason we got so little of james and aiden and the reason the ellie elimination was so underwhelming, BY GOD, WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE JUST FUCKING VOTED FOR TOM OH MY GOD
ally and jake are annoying,
i couldn’t care less about ashley,
why is trevor into the guy who takes any chance to verbally abuse him,
oh my god this show is out of ideas.
side note that i have been curious about for months since i got into DC but how the fuck do these people survive just off fish and fruit and how do they not constantly shit themsves???
anyways we get a slip and slide because summer camp. and magenta team wins because they’re the only team with three players. because disventure camp (and total drama) logic.
the elimination is the most fun thing of the episode and genuinely had me on the edge of my seat. the realization cyan team has that they have lost gabby, grett and gabby actually getting along, VILLAIN GABBY!!!
it was super entertaining to see gabby get her revenge but... i wish she had voted for tom instead (even though the show clearly gives he and jake plenty of plot armor because god forbid they rid those fans of their precious toxic yaoi) because... well it’s tom. fuck tom
this episode and its elimination alone are probably the most entertainment we have gotten out of disventure camp since episode 6. finally there is some actual strategy instead of petty drama - though there is also plenty of that (jake and aiden/ally shut the FUCK UP challenge LEVEL IMPOSSIBLE!!!)
looking forward to yul, jake, tom and just to be petty, ally, being voted off
gonna start rating episodes also, so this one gets a 6/10 on the geo scale. give us more actual likeability from these characters please i am so tired of rooting for just grett and gabby
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scolek · 9 months
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@tunkus you ready to have your mind blown?
alright, so first off ive been aware of akira since before enstars, he wrote a light novel series called "kyouran kazoku nikki" which got turned into an anime and i saw it and remembered it fondly. its one of those "crack" type things like flcl or nchijou but with a really strong emotional core, like, the government assigns them all to be family but then they find it again on their own. i recommend it! i know the anime is subbed.
oh but theres a trans character in it! it's from like 15 years ago so its not. its not a great portrayal. but you can basically draw a direct thru line from that to early arashi who was very clearly supposed to be the same type of person, and then from early arashi to modern arashi as we move into an era where its not fucking acceptable to say the o word so goddamn much. progress!
so what i found out about. i was on akira's wikipedia page and because i read at a second grade level my eyes are often drawn to any snippets of hiragana/katakana i find and i see the phrase センス・オブ・ジェンダー (sense of gender) and its another wikipedia page so i click on it, and then that page, unlike akiras, has a version in english so theres this award for literary works that deal with themes of sex and gender, and akira wrote a novel called 'biscuit frankenstein' that won the grand prize in 2009.
so im like, ok, what the fuck is biscuit frankenstein, and its never been translated into english, but there is a review of it in english.
and THEN, in that review, it mentions another novel akira wrote called ikemen kanojo, and theres even less about that one than there is about biscuit frankenstein, especially since theres some fucking isekai or whatever novel out there with kind of the same name, but from the name ikemen kanojo alone its like.
AND THATS AS FAR DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE AS I'VE GOTTEN BUT THERE COULD BE MORE!!! THERE PROBABLY IS BECAUSE IT APPEARS AKIRA HAS A COMPULSION TO TRANS CHARACTERS' GENDERS.
like you know how serial killers can only go a certain time without killing, and usually the more they kill the shorter that window gets. the time between shu's grandpa and hokke was like, barely four months!!! if this guy were a serial killer i'd be like somebody please stop him, he cant keep getting away with this, but honestly. imagine youre like 9 years into a successful franchise and you go. hey you know one of the main fucking characters??? that dude's been trans the whole time. yup. fuckin afab. and then you just, dont explain???? thats legendary and we need to keep letting akira do whatever he wants.
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bittwitchy · 7 months
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i’m gonna be a thousand percent real w you guys for a min, its gonna be under a read more, and it revolves around fears and pains and scary medical things and g/ov3r/nm3nt bullshit and stuff which is uhhh destroying me mentally and physically ig ahahahhaa
so like as some ppl know, when i was leaving work late nov/early dec of 22, i fell and injured my ‘leg’, it was a few days before i turned 26 and i couldnt get a doc appt in time w a real doc, and ofc bc i was on the male parentals insurance and it was based out of texas despite US being in california, i got completely fucked over bc they didnt want ro cover shit and i had to argue with them til almost the very end of december or so just to see a nurse practitioner who didnt know wtf she was gonna do, and refused to listen to me when i said i was not going to have insurance in a week. i cannot afford any expansive anything right now and anything that i have to do needed to be done before the end of december. all she said was ‘i hope you get better then, but they will call you when they feel like it.’
its been over a year, im still not better, because i was not clocked in at the time, and was injured in the parking lot, hr already said they wont cover it. even if i was only at that location (not my home location) for them, i was not clocked in and therefore they hold no responsibility, and the parking lot had no cameras anyways. its all just word of mouth so. i got fucked there too. C/alo/ptima has been fujcing useless and wont even send me my new insurance card so i can get a new regular pcp who will refill even just my fucking inhaler because the guy they gave me refused to even refill that.
now, when ive gotten the leg scans, they cant find anything. they dont know whats wrong. ‘oh youre just fat, lose weight and you’ll be fine.’
breathing shots pain into my leg. and the pains been spreading. ive been getting a little bit of weird treatment at work despite dlat out ignoring and pushing through my pain to please people and that wasnt even enough because i still got some pretty weird ass treatment from some ppl in management despite the fact im not choosing this, and ignoring it makes everything worse.
and ive been trying to push through and ignore it and hope it heels, because the medical system isnt going to help me, neither is the company, and i live in california. i really just cant afford the medical system here anyways.
i think when i fell, it clipped a nerve into my spine, because for those unaware im that special brand of au/tistic who can tell you the exact point of origin of my pain. from tooth pain to headaches to even searing body aches, i can tell you where it starts and where it ends. but i also have a massive pain tolerance (ive had 8 root canals and local anesthesia doesnt work on me thanks to adhd, i can and have had 9 bottles injected in and nothing happened, so i just dont use it and ignore the horrendous fucking pain of your nerves being killed because i dont want to bother anyone. THAT is my pain tolerance level, and i cant tolerate this.)
the pain is spreading to both of my legs, and when i ignore it i end up toppling over. i used to be a hula dancer, professional as a kid, still for rec until i got hurt. i cant do it anymore. i can barely walk. when i force myself into events and shit that requires walking, it feels like my entire body is being crushed the next day, and during the actual day of doing but thats obvious.
i dont know how to take it anymore, nothing is helping, no one is helping me, and even people who try to help me its like the system is working for them despite refusing to work for me. i really well and truly dont know what to do about this anymore. the pain from my spine isnt only in that leg now, its in both legs and keeps creeping to my arms. im obviously not gonna get help from the company, and even talking to a lawyer its a fucking long shot that i could get anything done from them at all since the parking lot didnt have cameras. i already have eds, and this has been setting off the issues relating to it even more. i was meant to get tested for pots before i lost insurance back then, but new doctor doesnt believe women can experience pain at all, and are lying for attention if they admit to it.
breathing is fucking painful, and i dont know what to do. i can just keep doing what im doing and ignoring my pain and pushing through to please everyone because its not like the system helps, but the system is working for others and when i do what they recommend i do it not only still doesnt work for me, but i get threats from it. i dont know if its because im autistic or not, indont know why it works for others and not for me, i dont understand and when i try to get answers all people say is ‘just push through’ but im trying and its making everything worse and im breaking my body more and more by just pushing through and indont want to get kicked off of c/alo/ptima for bothering them too much by not getting answers despite my efforts because i did get threatened and incant afford $250-500 monthly fees from my state if i dont have insurance. $250 is more than i earn a week. jts not like im getting hours at work. and i really just am so fucking broken and tired and confused and done i dont know what to do and im tired of being in pain. i just want the pain to go away. i dont want to cry anymore. i dont want to be confused and scared and alone anymore. its like everythings collapsing down and i dont know what to do.
and to top it all off, the skin welts and lesions that my old doctor was so terrified of me having are back. theyre a symbolism of my white blood cell count, and last time i got them he had me get blood tests every few months because he was worried about my developing leukemia. and everytime it got too high he gave me something to try snd prevent it, and ultimately i was ‘almost there but narrowly escaped’, and i dont know how im supposed to just keep pushing and keep living and keep going it that happens too. especially when incant afford a blood test right now. i dont know what im doing or who i am anymore and its destroying every semblance of who i am that i had left, and i just want to make everyone happy but im not happy. im not happy snd im not getting help snd i feel so defeated and indont understand how other people can argue andnits fine but i do it and i get threatened or retaliated against.
indont understand how if i do whats recommended im misbehaving and being wrong but others can do what they want. its like im a kid again but instrad of being beaten im just getting fucked over medically even more snd my body gets to further destroy itself and i dont know whay the fuck left there is to do. its like everythings collapsing down on me, jm not getting the samw care or treatment others get, and i dont think im going to because i cant keep fighting a system thats going to only verbally threaten me because they wont respond to emails. i cant use recorded conversations in court here. im scared and im tired and im in constant pain and had to beg my old doctor to send an inhaler refill without my seeing him because the new one wouldnt and my lungs were giving out. i dont want to die but it feels like its heading rhat way whether i want to or not because nothing and nobody will help me and when they try they get mad at me for ‘not trying harder’ but im doijt everythint they say and more and its nothing. nothings coming crom it but my suffering. but if i say its not my fault its ‘making excuses’ and injust cant keep doing this anymore. im so tired, and im in so much pain, and indont know what to do.
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nami-writes · 1 year
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Seek, And Ye Shall Find - Harry Potter
[ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 ]
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boys being boys.
“I… I don’t know if I can do this, Harry.”
In the dark, lying in the grass, Harry idly brushes his fingers against Draco’s. “What?”
“The game tomorrow,” he says. “I don't know if I can do it.”
“Of course you can.” He sits up and props himself up on an elbow. “You’ve been training your arse off. In fact, you’ve been working harder than the bloody Captain. That's a high bar.”
“What if it’s not enough?” he frowns. “I’ve gotten this far. What happens if I still lose? What happens if the Gryffindors hate me again? Or if I win, and the Slytherins have it out for me?”
“Then forget them,” Harry says. “It’s not about them. It’s about the game. And you.” He reaches out and takes Draco’s hand with a grin. “And a little bit about us.”
“Oh.” Draco pauses with a slight smile. “Us, is it?”
“The Seeker and the Beater, a tale of forbidden love,” Harry teases, rubbing the side of Draco’s hand with his thumb.
“Love? Bit of a strong word, innit?”
“Not at all.” He leans over to kiss him, then pulls back to gaze down into his eyes. “Unless this is something other than love to you.”
“Maybe we’re just best mates. Really close mates.”
“Oh?” Harry does an exaggerated double-take, pretending to reevaluate the kiss and their intertwined hands. “Hm. Guess you're right.”
Draco laughs. “Get down here.”
He pulls him down with his free hand and Harry falls over him less gracefully than he would’ve liked but recovers just enough for a deeper kiss. His one hand still holds Draco’s but now, with his weight over him, pins it against the ground too. His other hand props him up over Draco’s body so he doesn’t crush him and Draco’s other hand tangles in Harry’s hair. Harry straddles him as he leans in hard and Draco’s hand pulls him in closer than he can physically go. Their bodies are pressed against each other, chest to chest, foreheads touching, legs interlocked, yet it’s not close enough. They can never be close enough, never as close as Harry wants them to be, but by God if he isn't going to try.
Eventually one of them lets up and Draco’s smiling so widely Harry has to resist the urge to kiss him again, feel his smile against his own. “So, then, what are we?”
Harry chuckles. “Thought you said we were best mates.”
“Ah. Right.”
And then Harry gives in and kisses his smug grin right off of his face. When he comes back up for air, he relishes a little in the way Draco leans up a little, chasing him to no avail. “We're boyfriends, you wanker. What do you think?”
“Just wanted to be sure we were on the same page.”
“I didn't spend eight bloody months chasing your companionship to be best mates, Draco,” he scoffs. “‘Best mates’ my arse.”
It's bliss, finally being able to do this again, finally reaching this level of closeness. At some point they roll over and now Draco’s on top, taking what he wants, and Harry lets him. It's akin to roughhousing, the way they're jostling each other around, but the air around them is electrified with shared passion they can't ignore anymore. Draco’s hands on Harry, Harry’s arms around Draco, they roll around in the grass under the stars like little boys. Like free-spirited children without a care in the world.
All this time, he didn't know what he was looking for, what he was chasing in Draco. He didn't know why he cared. But this— this is why. This is it. This must be it.
“Don't leave this time,” Harry whispers into the darkness. His fingers brush through Draco’s hair where his head lies in Harry's lap. “Don't leave me again.”
“I won't.”
Draco leans up, pulls Harry down for a kiss, and Harry can just barely make out the glimmer of stars in his pupils.
“I won't.”
He's still there the next morning.
And he's still in his lap, still living in Gryffindor Tower, still the Seeker on the Quidditch team.
The game is still on.
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likeastarstar · 3 years
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9:20 PM- Jungkook
For what it's worth, you're a really good liar.
It's not a commendable talent, sure, but it was a handy one.
You weren't sure when it started, but somewhere along the line you started playing a character instead of being yourself. You noticed it got you farther, hiding your real emotions and thoughts in favor for just remaining as neutral as possible. Holding your cards close to your chest was a habit you picked up early on in life and it has saved you from a lot. It was just easier to always be happy in front of others, pretending that nothing bothered you. People seemed to appreciate it, praising your good natured tendencies and positive outlook.
But it also meant you were lonely.
No one knowing how you really felt was a double edged sword that would only nick at your heart at night when you were left with the emotions you had shoved deep down inside. They overflowed and suffocated you, buried under its weight.
No one really noticed it was fake- no one except for Jeon Jungkook.
You didn't really know him that well, you had a couple mutual friends and would see him around often enough but didn't speak to him willingly. To be honest, he made you uncomfortable. He had a careful gaze that watched you like a hawk when you walked into the room, narrowing his eyes when you spoke. You felt like you had to watch the lies you smiled through in front of him, like he had x-ray vision of something.
Your worries were confirmed one day, when you were having a particularly bad day but your friend invited you out. The bar they chose was crowded, loud enough to drown out all of the conversations and blend them into a cacophony of general popularity.
"So are you always like that or what?"
You snapped your head towards Jungkook, frowning at the question. "Like what?"
"Oh, you know, so cheery and sparkly," Jungkook said in a flat tone, throwing up sarcastic jazz hands with wide eyes punctuating the word 'sparkly'.
You searched for anyone in the vicinity to get you out of this conversation but came up short, everyone else was busy in their own conversation, "I'm a happy person. Is that a crime?"
Jungkook snorted and shrugged, "No, but nothing seems to bother you. Like- anything. I don't think I've ever seen you in a bad mood. It's freakish, unnatural. Almost like it's fake."
You stared at the ground, unsure of what to say, how to defend yourself. How did this guy see through you when your own best friend couldn't? Even your parents believed your smiles and easy going words. How had he figured it out?
"And you know what's weirder?" He continued, "I asked around about you and no one else seems to ever recall a time where you were anything but happy. I heard you broke up with a guy after like a three year long relationship and barely even talked about it afterwards."
You felt a spike in your heart at the mention of your last relationship that ended for multiple reasons but equated to you crying your eyes out for months because you just couldn't match the level of perfection you had built up for that long. By the end of the relationship, you were losing your mind trying to keep up with the version of you that your ex thought was real. Jungkook was right about one thing, you didn't let anyone know how distressed you were over it, covering the dark under eye circles with extra concealer and smiling when someone asked if you were okay. You pushed the feeling away, choosing to focus on the fact that Jungkook was asking about you- digging up information like you were some type of criminal.
"I still don't see how that's a bad thing."
"I find it interesting," he shrugged. "Do you just not feel anything but happy? Is it like a chemical imbalance or something?"
"No- it's self control." You snapped, crossing your arms tightly.
Jungkook smile only grew at your expense and widened his eyes with...excitement?
"There it is- anger. See, I've seen you annoyed, which you normally are when you speak to me, but now I've seen you angry. So why is it that the people who've known you your whole life haven't seen that from you? Not even your best friend, who said you two have never even gotten in an argument." He analyzed. "What is that about?"
You tried to find some kind of an excuse, coming up short. You're normally a perfect liar- so why couldn't you come up with something to get Jungkook off your back?
"I'm being harsh," Jungkook sighed. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, another emotion that he noticed. He smirked slightly but ignored it, stepping closer to you instead. He looked down at you from the slope of his nose, tilting his head slightly. Large eyes on yours, you felt weirdly vulnerable under his gaze, "I'll stop, but I'm just saying- it's not natural. Everyone needs a release, I can be that for you, if you want."
"Why would I say yes to that?" You grumbled kicking your feet idly. He was so close to you that you were beginning to get scared that he could sense the nervousness wafting off of you, but that only seemed to make him more interested in you.
"Because I already see through you," He explained. "If you are going to be honest with anyone, why not me? Plus, I dunno- you're interesting. A lot more interesting than anyone I've met in a long time. Call me nosey, I wanna know what's going on in that head of yours."
You snorted, rubbing your temples with the bottoms of your palms soothingly, knowing that what was in your head would terrify a person if they really took a peek in. You stared at him, studying the impassive look he was giving you, trying to tell if he was bad news or not. He probably was, considering how uncomfortable you still were.
"Come on, aren't you lonely?" He asked, nudging your shoulder slightly.
You were. It was the only thing stopping you from outright denying him. The simmering curiosity that you felt to figure him out as much as he was trying to figure you out. It was the curiosity, intrigue, and an underlying sense of...relief.
Finally- someone saw through your lies.
masterlist.
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elysiadjarin · 3 years
Text
Sword and Shield 9
Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on
Part 8: Drift
Warnings: This is a pretty heavy chapter everyone, so please heed this warning. The beginning of the chapter includes smut, 18+ content, minors please DNI, and has the following: cockwarming, unprotected sex (please wrap it before your tap it irl), p in v sex, shower sex, some sub and dom themes, everything is consensual. This chapter also includes themes of torture, abuse, and psychological trauma, including PTSD, flashbacks, and fighting that has gore and graphic injuries. PLEASE read at your own discretion!
9: Shatter
You woke up pressed against warmth. It curled into you, and you pushed your head into it, inhaling the scent that drifted with the warmth. The warmth shifted slightly, and you sucked in a breath, suddenly wide awake as something thick moved inside you in an undeniable demand. Shaking your head, you pulled back, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes.
“Oh, you’re awake Shiv! You okay?” Wrecker’s voice made you look up to see him grinning down at you. “You had a pretty good nap, you slept for about half a chron.”
You blinked, waking up. “O-oh... I—“ you flushed as you realized fully where you were. Your core pulsed as you let out a quiet whimper. “I s-slept well,” you managed. Your body was hypersensitive, every movement Wrecker made resonating through you.
“I think you came once while you were asleep,” he said casually, his hands wrapped around your hips shifting you so you moved over him. Your clit scraped against his pelvis, making you clutch at his arms.
“It’s almost time for lunch, Wrecker, and Shiv hasn’t eaten since we interrupted her meal yesterday,” Hunter called from somewhere. “Go take her to the shower to clean up. We’ll bring you two food.”
“Gotcha.” Wrecker cheerfully hauled himself up, keeping you firmly planted on his cock as he wrapped your legs around his waist.
“The water should still be hot, I just got out,” Tech said, walking out of the fresher and rubbing his hair with a towel.
“Thanks.” Wrecker swung into the bathroom as you squeaked, still completely stretched out around him. Each movement shifted you a little until you were mewling helplessly. Still, Wrecker just stepped into the shower and turned the water on, turning to shield you with his back until the water adjusted. Then he grinned down at you.
“You okay, cyare?”
You nodded shakily, holding onto his shoulders. “Wrecker, please,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut.
He backed you against the wall of the shower, the water cascading down both of you, then leaned forward. He kissed you, his heated breath stealing your own away and branding the shape of his lips against yours. The way Wrecker handled you so easily yet gently, supporting your entire weight, made you flatten your palms against his chest as you leaned into the kiss. Your hands swept up to his shoulders and up his neck, cupping his jaw, your thumb smoothing over his cheek.
“So pretty, Shiv,” Wrecker mumbled against your mouth, pulling out of you to thrust back in.
You gasped, hot water cascading down your hypersensitive body, dripping down your chest as you leaned your head back against the fresher wall. Water streamed in rivulets down your breasts and sides, dripping from your hips as it sprayed over your hair. Drops caught in your eyelashes as you blinked them away, focusing on Wrecker.
Wrecker grunted, staring at you in a way that made you send a slight, questioning pulse across the Bond. He suddenly projected, and you could feel it touch the Bonds with the others. The image of you from his perspective made you flush, seeing yourself through his eyes. The way you seemed fairly rose-tinted in his eyes, undeniably tiny in comparison, almost ethereal pressed up against the wall with water cascading down your body.
But Wrecker... he continued to fuck up into you as he almost cradled you against the wall. You reached up, letting him chase his pleasure as you admired him in your own way. You loved Wrecker’s childish joy in things, but you also loved how naturally he interacted with those around him. You loved how quickly he jumped to defend those he cared about.
And now, the way he stood under the shower, the water dribbling down his shoulders and traced down the planes of his chest... The way the water curled around the muscles in his arms as he easily held you up, the way droplets fell from his chin. You had to reach up, fingers tracing down the side of his face over his scars, brushing under his whitened eye. His jaw ticked as you moved further down, eyes half-lidded as one of your hands slid up the back of his neck, the other teasing down the side of his throat. You watched his Adam’s apple bob, your fingers trailing down his collar, down to his chest.
Curiously, you gently caught his nipple between two fingers, teasingly rolling it before moving further down. To your surprise, Wrecker let out a heavy moan and slammed up into you. He let his head tilt forward to lean against your shoulder. His hips were starting to stutter, breath shivering as he got closer to his own peak. Your hand slid down the back of his neck, nails lightly raking down the base of his neck and his shoulders. Both of your hands splayed over his chest, moving up and smoothing over his shoulders. You curled your fingers, dragging your nails over his back.
“Ah— cyare, I’m- wh-where—“
“Wherever you want,” you breathed, turning your mouth to the side of his head. You gently kissed the shell of his ear. “I’m yours, Wrecker.”
Wrecker let out a hoarse shout, then rutted his hips up into you one last time, so deep that you felt his tip just barely kiss your cervix. Sinking your teeth into your lip, you let out a little pleased moan as you felt him start to spill into you. You admitted to yourself, even as you cradled his head against your shoulder, that you might genuinely get addicted to how much Wrecker came. Again, you could feel your stomach start to visibly distend with how much he pumped into you. You let yourself mentally thank the Kaminoans for their advanced technology, or else you definitely would have gotten pregnant between last night and today.
Wrecker let out a low, long groan, then pressed his mouth almost reverently against your throat. “So pretty, Shiv, feels so good,” he mumbled against your skin. “So warm. Wanna stay forever...”
Letting out a sigh of contentment, you kissed his cheek nestled into the crook of your neck. “I’m here, Wrecker,” you whispered, content to simply bathe in his warmth. You didn’t even need to cum, your body still recovering from being put through the wringer that morning. “Not gonna leave unless you want me to.”
He shook his head, hands shifting to grip at your hips. He was currently still plugging you, and you knew that as soon as he set you down you would start leaking. You almost didn’t want to. Leaning up, Wrecker pressed a languid, long kiss to your lips. Then he pulled back and gave you a blissful, dopey grin that made you laugh a little.
“You okay, Shiv?” he checked, always thoughtful.
You nodded. “Yeah. Let me clean up, I think the others should be back soon.” You glanced past his shoulders.
He nodded, then carefully slid out of you and set you down. You leaned against him for a moment as you regained feeling in your jelly legs, letting out a breath. You stepped away, then looked down with a little whine as his thick white cum started to drip out of you. It ran down your inner thighs, making them slick with white.
Wrecker stared down at you, seeming to enjoy the sight of you leaking him everywhere.
You cleaned yourself off, washing your hair, then finally climbed out of the shower. You just dried yourself off before walking out into the room naked, toweling off your hair. Grabbing your brush and clothes and sitting on the edge of Hunter’s bunk, you started to dry off your hair, pulling on your top. Wrecker walked out in his trousers just as the group came back through the door, closing it behind them.
Unbothered, you just brushed through your hair, working the knots out of it. Staring down at your thighs, you let out a whine of protest as you stood, holding your shorts in your hand.
“Wrecker, now I can’t put on these shorts because I don’t wanna stain them,” you pouted, a dribble of white running down your leg.
Wrecker chuckled. “Sorry, Shiv. I can buy you another pair if you want,” he offered.
You looked up to see the other three staring at you with varying levels of appreciation and hunger. Rolling your eyes slightly, you decided to just sigh and pull the shorts on, grabbing the towel and draping it across your shoulders.
“I’ll hold you to that promise,” you sighed, then went to put your brush away. “Can I have that food, please?” you asked pitifully. “I’m so hungry. Tech just made me hungrier.”
Hunter chuckled, handing you the food they’d brought. Crosshair gave Wrecker his large share. “Here. Surprised you’re still standing, mesh’la.”
You shook your head, going back to sit on his bunk. “I won’t be for long,” you admitted. “My legs are almost numb.” You tucked into the food, closing your eyes and groaning around the mouthful. You’d hardly realized how hungry you really were until you started eating.
You practically inhaled the food, then reached up and rubbed your eye, one hand on your stomach. “Thank you, it was good,” you sighed in relief.
“Well, I think Wrecker is going to have to make good on his promise to carry you at the very least. We received new orders.” Hunter took your empty tray to throw it away. “We’re leaving in another chron. Can you be ready by then?”
You nodded. “I could just Shift,” you pointed out confusedly. “That way I can just be carried as a weapon. Besides,” you muttered, flushing, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk straight for the next few chrons.”
“Whatever you prefer, Shiv,” Hunter said with a nod. He came over to you, tipping your chin up with his finger. He bent and pressed a brief kiss to your lips. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, giving him a shy smile now that your hunger had been sated. “Thank you.”
“I think we should be thanking you,” he chuckled. “We did wear you out, I think.”
“Honestly Wrecker, what was that about? Sending that image across the Bonds?” Crosshair was hissing without true heat. “Tech tripped over his own feet in the middle of the canteen.”
“So did you, Cross,” poor Tech defended himself, sounding flustered. “And Hunter froze in front of me and made me almost drop my tray.”
You buried your face in your hands with a squeak, almost having forgotten the little incident in the shower. Then you abruptly looked back up, briefly forgetting your embarrassment. “Wait. You saw the— what?”
They turned to you, Wrecker in the process of shoving Lula in Crosshair’s face and Crosshair trying to shove it away. Tech blinked at you, and Hunter frowned.
“Is there a problem, Shiv?”
You frantically riffled through your mind, recalling the incident. Your lips parted. “Wow. I’ve... never reached that level of Transference before,” you breathed, completely awed as you started to realize what had happened.
“What?” Crosshair asked.
You looked up at them, eyes wide. “Normally your Bonds are only with me, they don’t bleed into each other. I... Objectively, I knew that if Transference was allowed to naturally progress to a deep level, Bonds could be accessed without using me as a middle ground, but... I’d never experienced it before,” you said wonderingly.
“Wait,” Tech said, adjusting his glasses, “are you saying that Wrecker directly projected that image to us without going through you?”
You nodded. “Yes... I’m sort of the... the main hub, but I don’t control what gets through or not anymore. You can... you should be able to reach through me to each other now.”
“And that only happens when Transference has been extremely advanced?” Tech asked, tilting his head.
“Yes.” You smiled up at them, the new realization lighting your chest with happiness. “I guess my integration really has been a success.”
“I’d say so.” Cross smirked at you.
You blushed.
“Well then, all the better for us, especially since we’re leaving on our next mission. Let’s start packing up.” Hunter moved, starting by setting example.
You just packed the bag you’d brought from the ship, fine with leaving everything else in your trunk in the room. Once you were done, you double checked that you had everything.
Cross walked up to you. “I’ll carry it.” He held out his hand. “Permission to Transfer.”
You gave him a thankful smile, your legs already starting to feel weak. “Transfer Granted,” you finished, allowing yourself to Shift into his Rifle. You almost instantly relaxed as soon as Crosshair’s silence engulfed you. You let yourself sink into it, curling yourself into a ball in the dead silence and letting yourself simply... drift. You were vaguely aware that Cross had slung you over his back and that the others had begun to move back to the ship, but you let yourself bask in Crosshair’s steady presence.
Though you supposed that the utter void of Crosshair’s Bond might have driven others crazy, you found it comforting. It was just... simply there, a vast but safe space where nothing would try to harm you. Unless Cross himself tried to, which you trusted him not to. Though technically you were at his mercy, you simply let yourself be vulnerable and open to him, trusting that he would keep you equally as safe as you would protect him as his weapon.
Crosshair’s silence had never bothered you, and you doubted that it ever would. Of all the Bad Batch members, you knew that he had a difficult job that required him to stay so mentally distant and shut off. Peering down the scope, knowing that his aim was true enough to simply snuff out another life at the simple twitch of a finger... it required coping mechanisms that had to work. Yet he allowed himself to open up to you in small but crucial ways. Allowed himself to return affection in his own way.
You loved that part of him. Loved how he was kind to you in the small but meaningful things. Loved how he so readily offered a corner of his mind for you to occupy. Loved that despite how cold or distant he may be... he still cared, deeply, in his own way.
Your mind wandered off for a while as you took a break, the only thing bringing you back being the sensation of the ship lifting off. With a yawn, you decided to stir a bit and see if there was anything interesting happening. Materializing over Crosshair’s shoulder, you hovered in his line of sight and let out a wispy hum.
“There you are, Shiv. Cross said you seemed distracted. I was just about to debrief,” Hunter remarked, turning in his chair.
You nodded, turning to show that you were paying attention.
“So, this mission apparently is going to make us work with General Plo Koon and the 104th,” Hunter started off, making you tilt your head. “They call themselves the Wolfpack under Commander Wolffe.” He opened his palm and pulled up a map. “Here’s the mission: we’re supposed to act as their backup for the infiltration of a Separatist base and the retrieval of prisoners and intel. It’s been weakened, but they’re going to need an extra hand just in case.”
“Sounds standard enough,” Tech said with a nod.
You tilted your head, something about the base looking familiar. The moment your eyes flickered to the name of the city, you recoiled, your astral form simply disappearing. You retreated, whimpering slightly to yourself as you hid away in the safety of Crosshair’s presence.
Shiv. Crosshair’s voice slicked around you from the Bond, curling around you. What is it?
You shivered. I... I can help on this one, you admitted in a small voice. I know that base.
Crosshair put your Rifle form in his lap, resting it across his knees. We’re going to wipe it off the map, Shiv. We’ll make sure of it.
Taking a breath, you forced yourself to materialize again.
“Shiv.” Hunter looked at you, eyebrows furrowing with concern.
You looked down at your hands on Crosshair’s shoulder, your gaze traveling down to the Rifle. “I can give you a comprehensive map of the base,” you said tightly, your very soul seeming to shrink in on itself.
“What’s wrong? Why is it bothering you?” Wrecker asked, leaning forward in concern.
You let out a sigh. “I’ll be fine, I just... I know that base very well.” Your lips twisted with the bitter irony. “I was there for about a year before I went into... ‘formal’ training as a weapon. I might not be up to date on any changes in security, but I know very well how its laid out and how it runs. They couldn’t have changed much of that.”
“If you think-“
You shook your head. “It won’t compromise my performance,” you said quietly. “I just... need to prepare myself. I don’t like my memories from that place.”
“As long as you think you’ll be alright.”
You nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Stay with Crosshair, then, we’ll arrive in another few chrons. You don’t have to interact with people if you don’t want to.” Hunter gave you a nod.
You let yourself retreat back into Crosshair again, finding undeniable comfort in his iron presence. He stood after a few minutes, and walked toward his bunk on the ship. Sitting down, he grabbed a rag and weapons oil.
“Will this damage you?”
No, you whispered back.
He started to polish the Rifle, his hands confident and practiced. While you didn’t necessarily feel sensation the same way in your weapons form, it still soothed you in a way. The steady and easy way he continued to clean and maintain your weapon form calmed you.
You curled up mentally like a defensive and wounded animal licking its wounds. For a few minutes, you simply let yourself deal with the pain of unwanted memories rushing through your mind.
An electrowhip cracked through the air, landing unforgivingly against flesh and breaking open skin. Edges of bloody wounds sizzled, cauterizing, and a child’s voice cried out in rending pain. Words as sharp and damaging as the electrowhip flayed the child’s soul, leaving wounds that would fester for far longer than the physical marks.
Another child’s voice echoed through the past, answered by a soft one. Childish laughter was quickly stifled with a shared secret— until the day it all ended with one staring at the other with tears of disbelief. Blank eyes stared into the ones awash with betrayal, and the muffled sound of live ammunition accompanied a shower of blood splattered across the face still round with baby fat.
A heavy, burning hand on a small head, fingering the downy hair with greed. Poison-laced words dripped between venomous lips, curling upwards in a serpent’s smile. Pretty bracelets clamped around chubby wrists and ankles, poorly disguised shackles meant to look like so much less. Empty eyes staring up at an adult’s face that only twisted with the familiar greed. No one looked at her with anything else.
Heavy doors slamming shut, leaving a child with a well-dressed noble. A roomful of ‘defective’ servants, cowering in fear. A massacre, in the name of “testing the product.” Blood, thick, coating the walls, muffling the sound of maniacal laughter echoing horrifically amidst the gratuitous shower of red.
The laugh echoed through halls and rooms, down into the very cursed ground—
You Dissolved the Transference. Reaching up, you crumpled to the floor and blindly grasped at your throat, trying to breathe through the tears that streamed down your face. Crystallized across the Bond, a comprehensive map you’d dredged out of the recesses of your suppressed memories.
“Shiv.” Crosshair’s voice was hard, his hands wrapping around your arms. “Breathe. Stop thinking, you’ve done enough.”
You shuddered, gulping for air. Leaning forward, you clutched at his shirt and buried your face into his shoulder, hitching with sobs.
“You’ve done enough,” he repeated quietly. “We’ll let Wrecker raze it to the ground once we’re done.”
You clung to the promise. It was over, it was in your past.
You had the Bad Batch.
It would be alright.
~
By the time you landed a few klicks away from the rendezvous site, you were already well and truly over with the whole mission. You just wanted it to be done and the place destroyed. You sulkily curled up in the back of Crosshair’s mind, since he’d let you rest there for the time being to gather yourself.
He stepped off the ramp, shifting his toothpick between his teeth. “Hunter.”
Your leader turned to Crosshair. “Yeah.”
“Here. You might want to take Shiv in case she remembers anything else about the map.” Crosshair held out the Rifle, which you Shifted into Hunter’s modified blaster.
Hunter took you with a nod, sliding your Blaster form into an extra holster he had on his waist. You Transferred, momentarily letting your astral form shimmer by his shoulder to show that you’d moved. All of the Bad Batch had extra holsters for you, just in case.
Are you alright, Shiv? Hunter asked you, stern but still concerned.
Yes, sir. I won’t fail you.
Never that, Shiv. Out loud, he sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”
You all hiked to the rendezvous point where you were to meet with the 104th and General Plo Koon. You centered yourself, getting ready just in case. You knew from previous experience that the Jedi were able to sense your presence even when you were Transferred, and you had no idea whether the General had been informed about you or not.
A Legion was waiting at the rendezvous, all gathered around a Jedi dressed in the usual loose, flowing robes of the mystical sect. They turned to you, everyone on both sides helmeted and in full gear.
Hunter initiated as usual, reaching up to pull off his helmet. He gave the group a nod. “I’m assuming this is General Koon and the 104th,” he said, his low voice managing to still travel over the group.
The General stepped forward with a polite nod. “Indeed. A pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Hunter. I believe you are the Clone Force 99.”
Hunter nodded. “Yes—“
Wrecker laughed, his helmet already off and his grin as wide as ever. “Yeah, but who calls us that? We’re the Bad Batch!” He slammed his fist against his chest.
“It looks like most of the security in the base is rather primitive, as far as I can tell. It shouldn’t take too long to splice into whatever we run into,” Tech noted, holding up his device.
“That’s Wrecker, and Tech. And this is Crosshair,” Hunter introduced, motioning towards the members.
Another Commander stepped forward, his helmet tucked under his arm to reveal his own whitened eye, a scar slashed over it. “Commander Wolffe,” he introduced himself.
“Commander.” Hunter nodded. “I guess we’ll be taking orders from General Koon, then.”
The General simply tilted his head toward the base. “I simply ask that you do what you do best. General Skywalker speaks highly of you, as does Commander Rex of the 501st.”
“I guess we’ll live up to it, then,” Crosshair drawled. Letting the toothpick fall from his lips, he reached up and pushed the helmet over his head. “I’d like to get this over with.”
I’m surprised the General didn’t mention you. Tech observed over the Bonds.
He most likely knows, you said quietly. If he’s talked to Commander Rex and General Skywalker, he’s probably just decided not to address me for now since I’m not... corporeal.
We’ll take it for what it is. Everyone stay sharp, and listen to Shiv if she mentions anything new. Hunter gave his orders, putting his helmet back on.
A murmur of assent came over the Bonds before falling into formation behind Hunter. Commander Wolffe started to outline the general plan as General Koon led the way towards the base.
Hunter simply nodded, absorbing the plan. He’d already transcribed a copy of the map you’d provided and sent it to the 104th, so they had the updated information. The plan was a solid one, and while no one really expected it to go exactly as planned, it was a good place to start.
Everyone split off according to the plan, taking up different places around the perimeter of the base. Once everyone had gotten into position, the Bad Batch around by the West Wing, General Koon gave the signal by making a beeline for the front doors. All around the base, troopers burst, shot, and blasted their way into multiple points in the base.
Wrecker instantly paved the way for you guys, smashing through the transparisteel with ease and heading into the base with an elated shout.
You sucked in a breath, forcing yourself to focus as Hunter held you at the ready. You instantly recognized the room you were in, and a single glance around told you that it truly hadn’t changed from what you remembered all those years ago. It was almost infuriating. Shoving everything but your cold determination away, you forced yourself to compartmentalize and instead simply directed Hunter’s attention toward the door at the far end of the room.
“Guys, over there,” Hunter hissed. All the droids in the room had already been destroyed thanks to Wrecker and Tech’s quick work.
Heading toward the door, Hunter kicked it open and aimed down the hall. It was empty, so he cautiously but quickly began to make his way down and clear the hall as the others followed behind. It didn’t take long for you to lead them unerringly toward the spot where you were to meet with two other groups that were clearing the other wings of the base.
Your group and another arrived at the same time, taking out a small force of droids without too much problem.
“This is too easy.” Commander Wolffe looked around grimly.
You quickly whispered to Hunter, who spoke up. “According to our intel, most of the droids were probably stationed down in the holding cells with the prisoners and intel. It’s the most easily defensible spot, and there’s only one way in or out.”
“So they’re probably going to bottleneck us and try to pick us off,” Wolffe concluded, just as the other third group rushed in. He nodded to them, then turned to Hunter.
“Do you know the way there?”
Hunter nodded, then called. “Tech!” He tossed you toward Tech, who caught you. Holstering his other two, he turned and headed down the hall you directed him toward. You modified yourself accordingly, shielded from view by his back since he was at the front of the group. You reached a door, and Tech glanced up at it before heading toward the coded panel at the side.
Closing your eyes, you dug deep into an old memory and tried to recall what you could. You’d been through that door too many times to recall, and too many times for comfort. The deeper you went into the base, you knew, the worse the memories would get. Still, you let the fuzzy memory bloom into the Bond with Tech, knowing that he’d be able to see it far more clearly than you could pay attention to it.
“Ah.” Tech reached up. “This will be easier than slicing into it,” he thanked you, tapping in the code he snatched from your offered memory. As you suspected, the code hadn’t been updated. The doors shuddered and slid open.
“You must have some pretty good intel on this base in order to have the code,” Wolffe remarked.
“Stroke of luck,” Hunter answered casually.
Tech led the way again, picking off occasional droids. He only took a few moments to slice into several newer keypads that you didn’t recall from before, but each one was easily opened. Doors opened, leading deeper down into the base. Clearly, some of the security had been hastily rigged to convert a luxurious mansion into a Separatist base. Whether it had been volunteered or hijacked remained to be seen, you supposed, though neither one would really surprise you.
“There we go,” Tech muttered, slicing into the last one before turning to the others. “Just past this door is a narrow corridor that’s surrounded by two ventilation shafts. It funnels down to the holding area.”
“Wrecker can open up the shafts,” Hunter quickly pitched in.
Wolffe nodded, hefting his blaster. “Sinker, Boost, go down the left. Comet and I will go to the right.”
“Crosshair, find the best point as quick as you can. Tech, you and I will go down the middle. Wrecker, do what you do best,” Hunter said grimly.
Tech handed you back to Hunter, while you modified yourself again.
Wrecker let out a cheerful laugh, then cracked his knuckles. “Oh yeah. Comin’ through!” He whooped. Leaping forward, he landed a solid blow on the wall next to the doorway. It crumbled to reveal a panel of sheet metal. Wrecker kicked in a corner and peeled it back like paper, then went to do the same to the other side.
Two of the 104th climbed into the left with Crosshair following, and Commander Wolffe and the other trooper slid into the right. Wrecker decided to back them up, and Hunter hefted you in his hands.
He led the way with Tech following closely to his left. You Shifted into a wide shield just in case. Your decision was quickly vindicated as two droids appeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Hunter and Tech instantly squeezed themselves behind you, whipping out blasters to aim around the edges of the shield and down the droids. Two more took their place, and Hunter and Tech started to creep down the hallway, making slow but steady progress.
A low rumble and then a shower of dust and flying metal parts heralded the arrival of Wrecker and the others on the scene through the shafts. It didn’t take long for Hunter and Tech to run the rest of the way down the hall, joining the melee at the end of the hall. Chaos reigned for a few minutes, while you continued to focus on keeping your Handler safe. You were occasionally passed between Hunter and Tech, since they were closest and Wrecker seemed to be just fine. Occasionally a sniper shot would down a droid that had gotten close, alerting you that Crosshair had found a spot.
You simply nudged Tech’s attention toward the door at the other side of the room. He made his way across the room while the others mopped up the rest of the droids. He started to splice his way into the panel just as the General and the rest of the Legion arrived behind to finish off the last of them.
“Just a little... further...” Tech muttered, shoulders tensing as he carefully poked at the panel. One last click and the screen turned green, the door beginning to slide open. But he turned back to warn the others. “This is the last door before the holding cells. There’s no telling what’s down there.”
General Koon nodded, then strode to the doorway. Pausing for a moment, he tilted his head. “I only sense two other life forms besides the prisoners,” he noted curiously.
Internally, your heart sank. You knew it. You knew this would happen. I know who they are, you whispered across the Bonds.
“I think we might know who they are,” Hunter spoke for you.
General Koon turned to him. “Is that so?” His head turned to Tech. “I sense a great pain,” he said, his deep voice more gentle. “Perhaps there is someone who wishes to make themselves known?”
Hunter stiffened. “There-“
But you stopped him, slowly allowing yourself to materialize over Tech’s shoulder. The others let out murmurs, Commander Wolffe hefting his blaster.
“Why weren’t we told about someone else?” Wolffe asked tersely.
General Koon raised his hand to quell the murmurs. “I was aware that there was another,” he said calmly. “General Skywalker and Commander Rex told me about you.” He addressed you calmly.
You hovered above Tech’s shoulder, then silently pointed toward the door. You projected your thoughts outward, knowing that Jedi could hear your thoughts when you projected. General Skywalker had discovered that pretty quickly when they’d taken you in.
This land has a curse placed upon it by an ancient coven of witches related to the Zabrak Nightsisters, you informed quietly. There is a Guardian of this land, and another meant to guide the Guardian with their blood. That’s what those two are.
General Koon nodded. “I understand. But I also sense that there is more.”
You lowered your head, shoulders hunching. This... may have to be my part, you admitted heavily, the resignation settling over you. Because of the nature of the curse and the Guardian, there is only one way to truly defeat the Guardian and its Guide. Engaging in one-on-one combat using a weapon that the Guardian chooses.
General Koon repeated your words for the benefit of the others. “Surely there are others who could take up the challenge?” he asked you seriously.
Your hand rested on Tech’s shoulder, gathering comfort from it. I do not cast any doubt upon the prowess of anyone here, Master Koon, much less you. But the weapons chosen are often archaic and require much training and experience to successfully wield... and the consequences for failure are severe.
The Jedi Master once more repeated your words, then reached up to stroke at his chin. “What sort of consequences?”
You shook your head. Ones that I have built immunity to. I will complete the ritual.
His eyebrows raised. “And you have done so before?”
You let yourself start to fade away. My Handler will be able to call upon me once the Guardian and Guide have been reached.
“Very well. Let us go.” General Koon updated the others and started down the winding staircase that led deep down into the recesses of the base. The others followed along behind, a sort of uncertain silence falling on them.
Are you sure this is a good idea, Shiv? Hunter asked. He and the others had been, of course, able to hear what you told General Koon.
It’s the only option. I’d hoped this wouldn’t be the case, but... this was the smartest option for them. The curse is ancient and proven to be successful time and time again. You said evenly.
So you’ve done this before, Tech deduced. And you know what the consequences are.
You let out a resounding snarl that echoed throughout all the Bonds. I’d rather focus than answer questions at the moment. Failure is not an option. You fell silent, nursing the hatred you held for this kriffing base and that karkingcurse. You had to override your fear. There was no room for fear, and no room for failure. Only rage.
The hall opened up into a large, round space. Stone made up the walls, and reinforced cells lined the far side of the circular chamber. A matching circle was painted onto the center of the floor, and General Koon stopped just inside the doorway.
“There’s the intel.” Commander Wolffe pointed toward an inset in the wall between the cages.
“Careful.” General Koon held out his hand. “There is something in this room... something hidden, yet powerful. It watches.” He turned to them. “Find a place along the walls.” He turned to Tech as they all scattered.
You took one last moment, then let out a quiet sigh and materialized again over Tech’s shoulder. Leaning forward, you whispered to Tech. With a nod, he looked to General Koon.
“Once Shiv is released, we’ll have to get back into the doorway,” he said. General Koon nodded.
Tech lifted his hand and unflinchingly made a cut on his palm with your vibroshiv form. Tilting his hand, he dripped a few drops onto the circle. The circle started to glow crimson, and in the next moment a figure had materialized in the center.
A high-pitched cackle filled the stone chamber. “Well well well! It seems as though someone new has come to play.” The wizened hag smirked, broken teeth peering through rotted gums. “And— oh, what a petty little clone. Not even an original,” she sneered.
Don’t respond, Tech. Just repeat after me, you urged.
Tech straightened. “Make your bargain.”
The hag tilted her head. “In a hurry? Well, don’t be so quick to run to your death like the rest of your brethren.” She cackled. “You plan to fight the Ancient Guardian?”
“Make your bargain,” Tech repeated evenly, following your instructions.
“Ach, children. No fun, these days,” the hag sighed exaggeratedly. “Very well. Since you interest me, I’ll give you a choice, little boy,” she sniggered. Waving her hand, two different weapons sprang out of the ground. “These are your choices. Choose and fight wisely.” Slashing her own hand with her grimy nails, the Guide tilted her hand and spilled blood over the stone. With a sickly grin, she motioned to Tech.
Tech held your shiv out in front of him. “I choose a champion.” Then he dropped you, quickly stepping out of the circle and standing at the edge of it, unable to move further.
“You’re not getting anyone new today, Skarla,” you said, standing up.
The Guide stared at you for a moment, then suddenly burst into loud, delighted laughter. “My favorite victim! Oh, it has been a long time since I’ve gotten to play with you, itty bitty baby blade,” she cried, clapping her hands together and doing a little, disturbing dance. “You always screamed so prettily when you were smaller,” she crooned at you with a sickly, sharp grin, leering at you. “How your body writhed in such sweet pain-“
You reached out and wrapped your hand around the scythe, plucking it out of the air. “You’ve already made the mistake of letting me choose my own weapon, Skarla,” you said evenly, ruthlessly shoving away the memories that threatened to well up in you at her words. How many times had you been bruised and broken over these very floors? How much of your blood had dripped between the cracks in the stone? How many echoes of your screams had these walls swallowed?
Stepping back, you twisted the scythe in your hand so the blade came down in front of you. Reaching up, you dragged your hand unflinchingly across the blade, feeling the familiar rush of blood. You lifted your hand, smearing your own blood across your mouth and breathing in the scent of rust. Looking up, you bared your teeth at the Guide.
“Stop playing,” you hissed. “And let me fight. Or are you scared?” you sneered in the face of her glee. “Do you remember what I did to you last time we met? Are you still stinging from your failure, Skarla? Tell me, did I leave a scar?” You watched as her face contorted into rage.
“Fine!” She screeched. “I’ll let you have your way for now. But when you fail, I’ll be waiting to rip your pretty little gullet open and play with your innards like I did when you were barley able to hold your scythe,” she spat. “I’ll make you scream for me, mark my words!”
You barely had time to react before she disappeared, a figure dressed in a dark cloak and hood appearing in her place. It wielded a giant mace at least as large as you. In the back of your mind, even as you crouched low and hefted the familiar weight of the scythe in your hands, you could feel your teammates trying to reach you past the walls you’d thrown up. This had to be your fight. And this could not be a failure.
The dark specter lunged toward you, bringing the mace up to swing in your direction. You didn’t even bother to try to block or deflect, instead twisting away and sweeping the scythe out towards its middle. The blade of your scythe clanged against the staff of the mace, and you quickly skidded backwards and brought the scythe back to yourself.
The specter had one weakness when using the mace, and you’d always done well when you had the scythe in particular. The cards were at least starting to stack in your favor. You could taste the blood drying on your lips, your palm slick and raw against the staff of the scythe. Bringing it around your body, you brought it down and up in a sweeping arc.
The mace batted it away, but you’d stepped forward into the motion in order to get a step closer. Following the momentum, you whirled around and swung the scythe all the way around. The mace batted it down into the ground, and you instantly leaped. The blade clanged to the ground as you used it like a pole, launching yourself up and forward. Your legs wrapped around the hood of the Guardian, and you swung the scythe up and over to use the weight to drag you forward and the Guardian backward.
Letting go, you rolled forward and whipped around, bringing the scythe around. The Guardian let out a screech as you managed to slice through the side of its cloak. It started to swing the mace at you, and you used the curve of the scythe to hook the head of the spiked mace. With a flick of your wrist, you sent it down to the ground. Twisting the scythe, you twisted it free and swung it behind yourself again.
Switching hands, you built swinging momentum again and came at the Guardian from the other side. Instead, you realized with a flash of regret that you’d taken too long. You were rusty, and the Guardian was enraged at your hit. You barely had time to adjust your grip before the mace viciously slammed into the flat of the blade. Luckily it didn’t break the scythe, but the force did wrench it out of your hands and send you flying across the circle.
You slammed into the invisible barrier that had been erected around the circle, letting out a hoarse shout as you felt a distinct crack in one of your ribs. Forcing yourself through the pain, you stood back up and hunched over to spit onto the ground, gritting your teeth at the bloody splatter. Baring your teeth at the Guardian, you gave it a feral snarl of defiance and lunged for the scythe.
You slid across the floor and managed to grab it, scrambling back up and turning in time to duck under a swing. It whistled over your head, and you popped back up to swing the scythe. The mace blocked it, but you’d already decided on the next tactic. It would only take one or two more good, solid hits in order to start cracking. And once it cracked, you knew that you’d be home free.
Your ribs pulsed with a sharp pain that made it almost hard to breathe, but you pushed past it. The threat of what failure would bring was far more pain than a broken rib that would heal in a few chrons given the time. Taking in a rasping breath, you started to exchange a few blows with the specter, blocking the mace’s swings and gaining momentum.
After another moment, you grunted and mid-swing, changed direction, feet sliding across stone. The mace passed under the scythe, and you took the opening in a heartbeat. The scythe sliced through the hood, earning another ear-splitting shriek.
In another nanosecond, the mace had swung back around and caught in the curve of the scythe. Unbalanced, you were wholly unprepared when the specter yanked at the scythe.
You let out a short shout as your shoulder wrenched. Snarling, you ignored your dislocated shoulder for a moment in order to twist the scythe free and pull it back. Feeling the fire start to burn down your arm, you heaved your arm back and sent the scythe flying across the circle. It caught the spectre clear in the center of its robe, pinning it for a few precious moments against the invisible barrier as it screeched and struggled to free itself.
Reaching up, you clenched your jaw and sharply popped your shoulder back into place, growling through the pain and rolling your shoulder. Hunching low, you curled your fingers into claws and hissed at the specter as it tossed the scythe and grabbed its mace again. But there were cracks.
They bloomed from its chest area where the scythe had punctured clean through it, spreading like spiderwebs across the dark fabric. You ignored the scythe, knowing that you didn’t need it anymore. Eyes narrowing, you ran forward, dodging the downward swing of the mace at the last second. Dropping to your side, you kicked out with your foot and caught the gloved wrist of the specter hard enough to send the handle of the mace flying away from its grasp.
Leaping up, you physically brought the specter down to the stone ground, planting your knees on its chest. Leaning down, you snarled in its faceless hood and reached down, sinking your claws into the center of its chest, into the hole you’d made earlier. The specter started thrashing, shrieking, the cracks visibly widening.
Digging your hand deeper, you felt your fingers brush against its core. Closing your fingers around it, you brought your other hand to the edge of the epicenter of the cracks and savagely tore. The Guardian let out a final, inhuman howl before its form completely shattered, dark matter and fragments flying outward.
You hauled yourself to your feet, staring down at the angrily-pulsing, scarlet core you held in your bloodied hand. Disgust for it roiled through your soul, and you reached up to grip it with both of your hands. Digging your nails into it, you felt it start to tear under your fingertips.
Skarla appeared in the circle, reaching out for you. “NO, stop, you can’t-!” She tried to shriek.
You looked up at her then, and grinned, lips bloodied and eyes glittering. The core ripped under your fingers. Skarla let out a scream, just as the circle on the ground exploded.
When the light and the dust settled, everything had disappeared — the circle on the ground, Skarla, the core, the weapons. For a moment, everyone stared in silence with bated breath.
Weakly, you reached up and touched the corner of your mouth, feeling something damp trickle down your lip. Looking down, you saw dark blood smeared over your fingers, and your vision started to go blurry.
Your knees crumpled, everything careening sideways.
~
“Shiv. Shiv.”
The anxious voice drew you out of unconsciousness in a way that made you wince and flinch away, your senses instantly bombarded by the Bonds. Dragging in a gasp of air, you opened your eyes and tried to focus. Your body felt sore, everything in you starting to pulse and ache and generally make itself rather pointedly known.
Hunter’s face gazed down at you with concern, eyebrows furrowed and a frown tilting his lips. Relief saturated his eyes as he saw you focus on him.
The memory of what had just happened made you jolt and scramble up with a gasp. “What- did it work?” you blurted, panic edging at you.
“Relax, Shiv. You defeated the Guardian and the Guide. We’ve got the prisoners and intel, and we’re getting ready to destroy the base.”
You collapsed back with a groan, eyes shutting in sheer relief as you let yourself just breathe. “I... I was afraid it wouldn’t work,” you whispered, voice cracking.
“It worked, Shiv. You did good,” Hunter reassured.
You cracked open your eyes. “Where- Where’s Cross?” you whispered.
“Here,” Crosshair’s voice slithered around you, his boots appearing in sight.
You looked up at him, exhausted and desperate for a place to heal. “Please, can I-?”
He reached out his hand. “I have to set off the detonators Wrecker’s planting.”
You Transfered, instantly letting his silent presence wash over you. It almost seemed to soothe your aches and pains, and you Shifted into his Rifle without complaint. You could feel yourself quickly healing, the Bonds amplifying the Bad Batch’s concern and pouring energy into you. Your shoulder had already set, and you could feel your cracked rib starting to push back into place and cement as it healed. You stifled a hiss when you felt a sort of wet pop in your chest, knowing instantly what it meant.
Shiv? You okay? Tech’s voice asked.
You sighed. Healing. You answered, not wanting to worry them too much at the moment. More than they already were, at least.
Crosshair had found a spot on the edge of the hill overlooking the base, adjusting the Rifle to rest against his elbow. Peering through the scope, he swept his view over the base, catching sight of a figure occasionally passing the windows inside. The figure eventually jogged out of the base to reveal Wrecker, who held up a detonator in his hand.
“Get ready, Cross,” Hunter ordered, eyes narrowed as he watched Wrecker start to run towards the hill.
General Plo Koon and the Wolffepack gathered nearby along with Tech, and Wrecker finally reached them, grinning.
“Ready to blow it sky-high?” He bellowed, waving it.
“I will if you’d throw it already,” Cross grouched, setting his shoulders.
“Let’s go, Wrecker.” Hunter nodded at him.
Wrecker turned and pitched the detonator as far as he could, watching it fly impossibly far. Cross barely seemed to aim, instantly pulling the trigger. The detonator fell to the ground in a shower of parts and sparks, followed almost instantly by the rumbling of explosions from the base. The whole facility went up in a blast and flames.
You focused on the healing, trying to take stock of everything that you’d damaged in the fight. Your dislocated shoulder was already starting to feel normal, but your rib was still mending and your chest still had a hint of a wet rattle when you breathed. All your other scratches and bruises had closed over and healed, and you could still feel the energy pouring into you from your teammates. Their attention fueled the healing process, transferred energy from their care for their weapon into upgrading and fixing you.
“I believe that that is a job well done,” General Koon remarked, while his legion cheered. He turned to Hunter. “Much thanks for your help, Force 99,” he said with a nod.
Hunter nodded back.
“Might I thank your other member? She was quite instrumental in the overall success of this mission, as you have told us.”
Crosshair Dissolved the Transfer, allowing you to land on the ground with only a slight wobble. A little self-conscious and feeling still vulnerable, you hunched your shoulders, letting your hair fall over your face a little.
“Glad to be of use, General Koon,” you murmured, looking down at your boots.
“Are you well?” Genera Koon asked. “You were quite injured in the fight. Is there some way we can offer assistance?”
You shook your head, shrinking back a little. “I’m fine, thank you, I’m— I’m healing,” you said, glancing up at him.
Noting your discomfort, he simply inclined his head. “Thank you for your help. I hope you heal well. May the Force be with you.”
You nodded back with a short bow, feeling the need to pay some respect to the genial General. You’d noticed how he’d kept track of his troops and how they clearly respected him like the 501st did General Skywalker. It was the mark of a leader who cared about his troops, and you wanted to acknowledge it.
“Yo Shiv!” Wrecker lumbered over to you, grinning. “Did you see that? We blew it up!” he whooped. He reached out his hand.
You gratefully took the invitation, Transferring and materializing over his shoulder. “You were really cool, Wrecker,” you praised softly, feeling his happiness wash over you. It soothed you in a sense, knowing that your team hadn’t gotten injured and had completed another successful mission. It was frankly a relief, and your injuries a sacrifice you were willing to make in exchange for the success.
Bidding farewell, the Bad Batch parted ways with the 104th. You’d barely trudged into the ship when Hunter instantly turned to you still hovering over Wrecker’s shoulder.
“Shiv. Tell us what happened. Are you healing fine? Do you need medical assistance?” Hunter demanded.
You shook your head. “I’m healing just fine, the— the Bonds are all speeding up the process.”
“Let’s go talk about this is the common area, shall we?” Tech asked calmly, leading the way.
Everyone trudged in, and Wrecker sat down heavily with a groan of relief to be off his feet. He turned his head to you, as did everyone else.
You sighed, knowing that you’d have to explain. “That base... is a place I hate,” you said, shoulders slumping. “I... there’s a lot that happened to me there, a lot that...” You turned your head to look away from them, the horror roiling through your soul. “You have to break a weapon in before training with it,” you muttered, hunching in on yourself. “I was broken in for sale in that base, sold to the owner that had me until the 501st saved me, tested out by being forced to massacre a roomful of servants, and...” your voice broke, shaking with the memories. “I was forced to kill my only friend in cold blood. He was— he was no older than me at the time... we were both only nine,” you rasped.
Everyone stared at you, the sense of horror trickling over the Bonds.
“I haven’t— I’ve tried to forget about that place for so long,” you rasped, sucking in a steadying breath. “I just... Some of my training took place in that basement. I was forced to fight the Guardian, over and over, until I could beat it with any weapon.”
“That Guide— Skarla. She said she made you scream.” Cross stared at you, eyes dark and fingers clenching around the barrel of his Rifle.
You looked away. “Failure brings consequences. I’m lucky Skarla didn’t kill me,” you whispered.
“You should have told us, Shiv. We could have done something—“
“I went back to face my demons and get my peace,” you interrupted Hunter. You turned to Tech. “Thank you, Tech.”
He looked up sharply. “For what? If anything, I’m the one who threw you into the situation.��
You shook your head. “No. You— you trusted me enough to listen to me. You freely offered your blood to fuel me through the fight. You let me be the champion without doubting me. That... that means a lot. It gave me strength... let me have enough confidence in all of you to not be distracted and give my all to succeed.” You looked down at your hands, shadowy in your astral form. “That means... more than you know, to me.”
“We care about you, Shiv,” Wrecker said, his voice more sober than usual. “We want you to be okay.”
You smiled, turning to brush your lips against his cheek. “Thank you,” you whispered. “Your care is letting me heal more quickly than usual.”
He grinned again, clearly cheered by the kiss.
“Your injuries?” Hunter asked pointedly.
“My shoulder has fully healed, as well as all my cuts and bruises,” you said. “I cracked a rib and it nicked my lung, but the hole closed over and my rib is halfway set,” you added quickly. “I should be fine in another chron.”
“It heals that quickly?” Tech asked.
Everyone seemed to want to move past your story, more for your sake than anything. You weren’t about to complain. You could already feel their support through the Bonds, and that was more than enough.
You nodded. “It’s usually slower, but... since you all care about me as your weapon, that energy is used through Transference to help repair me as soon as possible to be functional again.”
“Good.” Hunter nodded. “That’s what we want.” He stood. “I’m going to get us off the ground. We need to head out. Get some rest, Shiv. Good work, everyone.”
Wrecker stretched, yawning. “That was fun. I mean, besides seeing Shiv get hurt, but still— you were really cool, Shiv! I didn’t know you could use a weapon like that. You looked really cool.”
You smiled weakly. “Thank you, Wrecker.” You started to fade away. I’m going to take a nap. Is it okay if I stay?
Course! Wrecker answered readily.
You took the permission and quickly fell asleep, overcome with the relief.
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sopxhiea · 3 years
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Alfie Solomons X Reader
Summary: Alfie has worked the ground to get the wild girl all to himself but for a moment, he forgets who he’s dealing with and she’s more than happy to remind him.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“You’re it.”
It felt bitter.
The blinds were closed, mostly drawn all the way towards the end of the wall where the coffee table was. It was hard to find the way around the building but it felt familiar. The blanket was cold, no breeze apparent in the room as the sun seeped through the open window.
Regret, it tasted bitter.
It felt like a shock wave through your body first as you laid there under him the first time. You were regretting every decision you’d made except the one that got you in his bed in the first place. It was usually done quick, no pleasure for you and all the perks reserved for the man ‘in charge’. It had done that way, you’d been taught and there had been no exceptions until last week.
Alfie was not a normal man, you reminded yourself while laying on the sofa.
The regret had not left you, only got less and less but it felt like a bullet wound at times. You regretted making him chase you. If only you knew how good he was in bed, you thought. Maybe that was the chase, the bigger picture in all of this and the game you’d been playing with him. You did regret making him wait for so long but it had been worth the while.
He had won the last couple of rounds and the ropes around him were looser than they had been, now that he had worked his magic.
It wasn’t fair, no, but none of it was. 
For the first time in your young life, you were losing the game and it felt bitter. You didn’t care at times, not when he was making you chant his name in slow pleas against the mattress. The smug smile he wore afterwards told you all you needed to know, that he was as good as it was gonna get in bed. He had proved it too and you felt drawn to him, for the first time in a long while.
That wasn’t to say that you didn’t like him before, you wouldn’t have played with him for so long if you hadn’t but now, there was something of importance he held in his hands just like you had been the entire time he’d known you. 
You couldn’t figure him out in the last few weeks.
This big scary man of power was nothing like you’d expected. It was a pleasant surprise at first, something that had almost made you smile but now, you were the one getting confused over the things he did when it was meant to be the other way around.
Cyril sat next to you on the sofa, something Alfie had told him not to do repeatedly but he wasn’t around so it didn’t matter. The maid was out and it was sunny, chirpier than it had been in a long while.
Spring was coming and you wondered how long it would last this time.
But it was easy to pretend, you found.
It was easy to act like you didn’t like him, like your heart didn’t flip when he’d smile at you at the end of each day. It became almost too easy to hide your smile at his antics, to pretend like you were really feeling something for the man.
It had been so long.
So long since you’d felt something like this. It kept you up at night as he’d lay next to you, breaths slow and calm and you would try not to watch him. Your mind panicked, as this was not how it was planned but nothing had gone accordingly anyway. But this made you feral, feeling this way towards someone.
The blood on his hands didn’t bother you, no, it was the smile on his face that made you worried. 
He was going to steal your heart if you didn’t do anything about it.
You didn’t hear him come in as you laid on the sofa, eyes closed under the spring sun. He smiled, shaking his head at the sight and he felt the pressure of the day leave his body. All you’d have to do was to smile and he was done for.
He had surrendered a long time ago yet, you were still counting the score of the game.
He walked into the office with a small chuckle and you opened your eyes, only to meet his blue orbs. He offered you a small smile, not bothering you in the slightest as he sat next to you. He watched you blink for a moment, calm as a bird as you slowly sat up. He didn’t often get you like this so when he did, he tried to make the best of it.
When his finger lightly skimmed your leg, you shifted from where you were sitting.
He was teasing again.
He had gotten too comfortable with you, sometimes forgot that you could easily have him begging within two minutes. It wasn’t just the teasing anymore, it was the way he’d look at you. It made you furious, mad at yourself that he had gotten so close to breaking your doors. You weren’t this weak, not when it came to anyone.
“Don’t.” you spoke, softly but as a warning for the most part. 
You weren’t up for his regular scheduled foreplay today. He was good in bed, too good if you were honest but he was relentless, too. You had briefly thought of him as an old man, someone who would be satisfied quick and easy but you had never been more wrong. Sure, he was older than you and significantly so but he wasn’t an old man. Not at all. 
And you were right, he didn’t listen. 
You felt his beard on the side of your neck, his lips connecting to the soft flesh not too long after. A sign left your lips, a sweet form of surrender Alfie was growing used to. You didn’t push him away, merely put your hand on his chest but the protests were getting weaker by the that.
It felt like heaven to him.
He wasn’t a sentimental bloke, not someone who wore his heart on his sleeve but he’d been content, almost giddy after you’d let him in. He was possessive, a bit too rash sometimes but you saw the little glimpse in his eyes that told you what you needed to know, that was happy for the first time in a long while.
You didn’t like to think about it.
“You’ve been waitin’?” he spoke, mirroring the familiar words back at you. You nodded, too sleepy from the way the sunrays had been kissing your skin while sitting on his sofa. 
He hummed against your skin, trying to get as much of you as he could now that you were calmer than usual. There was a panicked side to you, now that you weren’t sure where you were standing.
You slowly got up, withdrawing from his embrace as he watched you. The ends of your dress flew over your ankles, not as smooth anymore now that you’d been laying in a weird position. His eyes roamed over you, from head to toe before settling on your eyes. You tried to fix your hair, unruly since he’d messed it up while kissing you. 
“I’m gonna leave.” you spoke, voice soft as he watched you. Reaching for your coat that was laid next to him, you watched him stop you.
His hands were warm.
“Don’t.” he spoke, mirroring your words from earlier back at you. You smiled, softer this time as he looked at you. You were going to leave and he knew it.
“Why not?” you whispered, barely audible.
It was fun, the game.
It wasn’t as serious now, he knew he had you on the hook on some level. It scared you still, feeling like you were someone’s. Not that he had you in his palm, but the effect he had on you was something you were still getting used to and he knew it.
“I’ll make it worth your fuckin’ while, eh?” he spoke against your palm after you caressed his cheek. He was rugged to the touch but you were far too used to it to be bothered by any of the unusual anomaly.
The smile that found your lips was playful, something that told him that you’d give in soon but it depended on how he played his cards. This was the way it had been for the past couple of weeks now. Your walls weren’t down, they were as strong as they used to be but they were becoming transparent, a little too thin almost and he could see through them.
It excited him.
His main goal hadn’t been sleeping with you, although it did feel like it sometimes. It had been having you to himself, just like the way you were now. You didn’t have to be there but chose to, even though he had been the one to chase you down in the first months of knowing you. Now, you came to him willingly.
But he was an old man, and he forgot who you were sometimes.
You got up almost immediately once again, not struggling in the slightest to retreat from his embrace and flashed him a wicked smile. Your dress was all over the place and it made him lick his lips, a known smirk decorating your lips soon after. You winked at him, voice breathy as he looked at you from where he was sitting.
“I’ll leave, Mr. Solomons. You’re welcome to come by my house after you’re off the clock.” you spoke, smiling once more at the end of your sentence and walking away from his office. 
As usual, he watched you go. A low smirk on his lips as he laid back on the couch and reveled at the memories of you in his mind long after you left.
Oh, he was fucked.
-----------
You were teasing him again.
He tried to keep his eyes on your face, focused and determined to do so but he slipped every now and then. You looked soft under the evening light, almost like he was dreaming of you again but he knew it to be true from the way your eyes looked at him.
You wanted trouble.
“You came here for something specific?” you spoke, crossing your legs in the silky nightgown. He liked this one, you knew from experience. 
The entire evening had been your way of reminding him that you still had the upper hand. He was the boss, sure, he was a supervisor of some sort as well but this was a different game. It felt illegal, it was immoral for sure but you were the one with the good cards, not him.
And he had been reminded of that, with you teasing him in nothing but a silky nightgown, asking him dangerous questions he was too dizzy to answer.
“Lass.” he spoke, voice gruff even though he had a tall glass of water next to him.
“Yes?” you offered, knowing fully well you had to be treading lightly but you were not the one to shy away from trouble.
“Don’t make me fuckin’ put ya’ over me knee.” he said, dragging out the words slower than usual.
He was desperate.
You chuckled at the words, who did he think he was playing with?
You had gotten scared at first, that if he slept with you or had some sort of control over you that he’d get bored. Men usually did, once they had the forbidden fruit, they didn’t want it anymore but most failed to see the silver lining. 
They never had you, not really.
You weren’t a man’s just because you were sleeping with him, or seeing him on occasion. Men got delusional, too loose after some point and forgot that you would never be theirs. It was not a situation you saw yourself in, even though you were inching it closer with Alfie.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” your words were soft, slurty as they came out of your lips. He blinked slowly, used to the counteract at this point but it somehow caught him off guard every now and then.
“Ya’ know what ‘m here for.” he spoke, watching disappointment cross your face at the words.
Was he there for sex?
He had created some false expectations you were not used to having with men. Not only through his kindness and unexpected generosity but also through how soft he could actually be, someone who had literal blood on his sleeve most hours of the day.
“Use your words, Mr. Solomons.” you spoke, unsure of what he was there for anymore. 
“’ere to see the pretty lass, yeah, that’s why ‘m always ‘ere, innit.” he spoke, a low chuckle coming from deep his chest and the relief washed over you. Although, he did not see either of the emotions.
So he was still your Alfie.
“Are you still planning on putting me over your knee?” you offered, asking in a more serious manner as he looked at you, with darker eyes this time.
It wasn’t like you’d slept with him for too many times.
It had only been a couple times. 
That one time you had invited him over was the first time, he had shown you an excellent time and he had the same feeling about that night. It was the first time he’d seen you, the entirety of you and it had made him greedier each time. He still kissed you breathlessly in his office but he wasn’t afraid to go the extra mile, he was desperate to.
But he was also aware that you made the rules in the dynamic and he’d worked hard to get you to stay.
The next time you’d slept with the handsome man had been an explosion of sorts. You’d been trying to stay away after getting in his bed but it was hard to forget how good he was. He was too good, you would tell yourself but you had managed to stay away from the bear of a man until one day, he showed up with flowers on your doorstep and his clothes had ended up on the floor.
And that was it.
“Only if ya’ want me to, right.” he spoke, very well aware of the lines of consent when it came to these kinds of things.
You hummed, slowly getting up and walking towards him to sit on his lap. He welcomed it, second nature at this point as he looked into your eyes. His hands found your waist and bum, a small kiss on your neck the moment you sat on his lap. Your hands remained on his arms and chest as you looked down on him, not kissing him just yet.
“There ya’ are.” he spoke, moving a strand of hair from your face. 
You licked your lips and reached for him, he knew the signal well at this point and he was too needy to say no.
Alfie kissed like he needed you until the moment he’d die. He was almost trying to tell you something but you were too distracted by the way his lips moved. You mewled into the kiss, letting his tongue dominate yours as he took the lead. You didn’t mind, not with Alfie.
Breaking the kiss, you licked your lips and looked at his eyes again but he spoke before that, sure of himself.
“Let’s put ya’ over my knee then, hm?” he spoke, not much of a question at that point. You grinned like a kid as he carried you to the bedroom, excited of what was to come.
--------
Your shallow and his deep breaths filled the room. He was right next to you on the bed, catching his breath when he pulled you close. Your back was still to him as you laid on your side but the kiss he planted on your shoulder told you he didn’t mind.
Boy, he was good in bed.
You sighed, feeling your legs grow sore at a slower pace than normal since he’d taken it very easy today and you were thankful that for the first time in ever, a man listened to you in bed. You groaned once more before hearing a mutter from his side of the bed.
“Hm?” you spoke, curious as to what he was saying.
He often spoke after sex, about anything and everything. His nonsense was not regular nonsense, just not your kind of world so it took you a while to catch up but it always put you to sleep so you’d listen.
“You’re it.” he said.
The one thing he’d been thinking of for the past weeks.
You were it. You’d ruined other women for him, he knew that much but he also had seen a number of attractive women after meeting you and he had felt absolutely nothing. Most women were afraid of his occupation, including the good jewish women his mother wanted for him so that wasn’t an option. But you were much younger than any of them yet you were more dangerous than he could be in relationships like this.
You turned to him, hair a mess as he looked at you with a kid’s smile. Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused noise coming out of you at the sight and the words he had just said. “Huh?” you spoke, genuinely desperate for an answer as you looked at him.
“You’re it for me, luv.” he spoke and watched your eyes widen. And then you scoffed. And it turned into a hearty laughter.
“Oh, you’re funny after sex, Alfie.” you spoke, finally not chuckling at his words so he spoke instead.
“I fuckin’ mean it, lass.” he said, still half-smiling which made you stop smiling.
It wasn’t a joke.
This wasn’t the plan.
Entertain the gangster, get him attached enough to get a job, maybe a house. Those were all done and the plan had been working greatly until now but he was in love now?
It changed things.
Mostly because you were also feeling some very strong things towards him.
“What am I meant to do with that?” you spoke, confused as to how things could go from there.
“Whatever you fuckin’ want, luv.” he spoke, unbothered by the confession that had just taken place.
You nodded slowly, convinced of his insanity once more as you looked into his eyes. This didn’t have to change things, you thought in that immediate second. He could get attached all he wanted, even fall in love but nothing changed, so long as you were feeling nothing.
But you weren’t feeling nothing.
You sat on the bed, slowly and he watched you. You were calculating something again like you did when you were unsure of things. He watched your eyes roam around the room before settling on him.
He’d make a good husband, you thought.
To someone else.
There were things you’d promised yourself not to do, getting married was one of them. You’d seen too many women suffer in the hands of their husbands and sure, that wasn’t the entirety of the picture but it made you doubt when it was almost all of it. He’d either end up dead or something would happen to him anyway.
So you decided on a new strategy.
Turning to him, you spoke softly under the moonlight. You offered him an honest smile, covering your upper body with the sheet while he watched you speak and then raised his eyebrows after you were done.
“Alfie, I’m going to ask you for a favor.”
He was fucked, he just didn’t know how badly.
---------
Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @fuseburner @r-rose08 @innerpaperexpertcloud @caffinated-tree @cathartichaoss  @ihavefandomsssss @thatchickwiththecamera @sugarcoated-lame @alainabooks143 @enrapturedbythemoon @a-southern-doctors-drawl  @houseofdupree @evangelinesolomons​  @kissmyoops a/n: this is so late omg i’m so sorry but i’ve been having some health problems, hence why i don’t post as much on here but i’m getting better bit by bit. Let me know what you thought of the chapter!
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junicai · 3 years
Text
where are we?
| order no. | 9/21
| summary | When ‘exploring’ turns into ‘being horribly lost’, there’s nothing more comforting than Baekhyun’s steady presence. Well, after he’d finished yelling.
| part one | i search the universe.
| word count | 1.3k
| warnings | none
| era | circa. January 2020
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Reluctantly, a phone was handed to her, and Aria wasted no time in inputting Baekhyun’s number. It rang once, before being picked up.
“Oppa?” 
“Aria! Oh thank god, one second.” Came Baekhyun’s response. Aria heard the phone being pulled away from his ear.
“Guys! I have them on the phone!” Baekhyun’s voice was quieter now that the phone was further away, but it was soon replaced, and then the leader was speaking to Aria in calm tones.
“Are you three safe? If you’re out in the open, go into a store or something - but don’t be standing in the middle of the street in case they come around again.” He began, and Aria motioned to get the two men away from the window. 
“We’re in a small café, oppa. With masks and everything, so I don’t think anyone here has recognized us.” 
Baekhyun’s sigh of relief felt physical, and Aria could feel herself loosen as well. They were safe, he was going to help.
“Okay, that’s good. Can you tell me where you might be? Is there a street name nearby?” 
“One second.” Aria pulled the phone away this time, cupping her hand over the receiver. 
“Oppa!” She whisper-hissed, catching Taemin and Jongin’s attention. “Do you know where we are?” 
Taemin took a glance around the street, shaking his head lightly. “Friars road? That’s the best I’ve got.”
Aria nodded, returning her attention to her phone. “A café called, Demi? I think, on Friars road.” 
“Brilliant, I’ll let hyung know.” Came Baekhyun’s quick response. “You’ve done so well, Aria. I’m proud of you.”
Aria felt her heart seize a little, before melting at the praise. 
It wasn’t long before a non-descript black van was pulling up to the curb; and Aria waved a small goodbye to the elderly lady who was looking increasingly concerned. The trio piled into the van, and the door slid shut as they drove off.
The silence was stifling. 
“Everyone okay?” Their manager asked. 
Jongin swallowed. “Fine. No one got hurt - just a bit shook, is all.” 
“Good. That’s good.” 
A pause. 
“He’s going to kill you both, you know.” This time, the manager’s voice was wry with humor, and Aria knew exactly who he was referring to.
Jongin blanched slightly at the idea of suffering his hyung’s wrath. Normally, he’d be mentally psyching himself up for the inevitable scolding, but the fact that he’d landed their maknae in trouble? 
He’s dead meat. 
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Baekhyun swallowed sharply after hanging up the phone. "Manager hyung has them." He informed the three anxiously pacing boys in his hotel room.
Immediately after realizing that something was wrong, he'd called the three remaining NCT members into his room. There hasn't been a lot of information exchanged before the phone line going dead had cut them off; so Baekhyun's first priority was making sure that the three boys were safe.
Taeyong had started biting his nails when they relayed the fact that the trio had been chased by the American equivalent of a sasaeng.
Maybe there were crazy fans all over the world: each with their own name.
Ten just went with 'psychopath'.
These kind of happenings were inevitable in their line of work, unfortunately, but it had been a long time since it got to the point where the idols actually needed to physically run from the fans.
Not since Mark's incident in the airport, Ten mused. Aria had sat on the left side of the boy with Lucas on his right: Aria with her hand clenched firmly around Mark's, and Lucas rubbing soothing circles over his thigh.
It would have been cute, had it not have been so aggravating. The fact that someone felt so entitled to their time, had such little concepts of personal boundaries, the fact that they followed Mark to the airport.
It made them all feel a little sick.
Jongin, Taemin and Aria arrived in a flurry of hands, coats and panic. 
Aria was swooped into Taeyong’s arms almost immediately - barely having time to slip her hands from her sleeves - before Mark and Lucas were sealing them into a kind of four-way-hug that was much more comforting than it looked.
Baekhyun stood to the side, looking over Taemin and Jongin with cautious eyes; scanning them both.
After ascertaining that, yes, they were uninjured, the leader promptly stepped back and levelled Jongin with a look. 
Jongin’s shoulders shrunk slightly, the boy twitching back into his own space while his eyes were unwilling to move away from the floor. 
“That was dangerous.”
“I know.” Jongin spoke quietly. 
“You could have gotten seriously hurt.” 
“I know.”
Baekhyun sighed, biting at his lip. A hand was lifted away from his body, and Jongin was beckoned into his arms. The younger man went willingly, sinking bonelessly into his hyung as the tension that had built rapidly seeped from his stature.
Taemin stood to the side now, awkward for only a moment before Baekhyun was pulling him into the vacant space that Jongin created for him by shuffling over to the side. 
“Group hug!” Lucas cheered, piling into the three older members. 
Ten yanked in Aria, who in turn, pulled in Taeyong and subsequently; Mark. 
Soon, there were eight pairs of limbs in a tangle on the floor - Baekhyun having sunk to the ground after Lucas’ weight had his knees bowing beneath him. The group had crumpled together, limbs slotting together in a knot. Aria could feel the slight tremor that had still yet to leave Mark’s hands, and tucked her head into the crook of his neck.
All eight members sat in silence for a minute, just taking a moment to breath. But the ground was hard and uncomfortable, and eventually Ten piped up in complaint. 
“You know, I don’t think this is good for my spine.” The pointed glance sent Taeyong’s way had a suppressed snort escaping Aria’s tenuous grip.
Ten turned on her at the reaction, grinning like a lion; all sharp teeth. “Oh, you too, Ari, don’t think I didn’t see you holding your back after we got off the plane.” 
Aria had a lapful of Lucas all of a sudden. “Is your back bothering you again? You promised you’d tell us if it did!” 
She glowered at Ten, who snickered in response. 
Aria supposed that this was his way of making sure that she really was alright. A non-verbal check-in was a million times more in character than any kind of vocalized concern. 
So, she caught his eye in-between reassuring Lucas and Mark (who had joined in on his friend’s fretting a second later) that no, she was just stiff, and tried to convey a thank you through her eyes. 
By Ten’s eye roll that was entirely ruined by the soft smile that pulled at the corner of his lips; Aria succeeded. 
Baekhyun lifted his head from where it was resting on Taemin’s back; a hand carding through his hair. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Jongin.” 
“Hyung!”
“You’re going to turn me grey! I expect financial reimbursement for the fact that I’ll have to re-do my roots when we get back.” 
“Hyung, that’s just because you’re old now.” Jongin turned with a cheeky grin; but it quickly fell. 
“Come here you brat-” 
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Text
DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE BLOOD Vol.2: Mukami Kou [Track 5+6]
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Original title: キバで直接確かめてやる & 罰には罰が
Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 2: Mukami Kou [CD not owned by me]
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Kimura Ryouhei
Translator’s note: Once again, I’m just waiting for this CD to turn up the sadism level because right now things aren’t too bad. Or maybe I’ve just been ruined by Kanato’s and Laito’s MB CDs in which I’m pretty sure the MC doesn’t make it out alive, lol. All of you Kou stans are definitely in for a treat though.
Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10
→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!
Track 5: I’ll Confirm It Directly with my Fangs
*Rustle*
“...Phew~ It’s a drag, but I guess I’ll take them off for you instead. ...Bet that makes you very happy, huh? I bet you’re screaming with excitement inside!”
You shake your head as he starts stripping you naked.
*Rustle rustle*
[00:18] “Besides, you really have no need for clothes, do you? I’m going to suck your blood from head to toe after all. Besides, I have absolutely no interest in your naked body. ...Ah! Although knowing that the precious girl they’ve been obsessing over will soon be turned into a mess does spur me on quite a bit.” 
*Rustle*
“...Hm~? You’re not going to put up a fight? Do you finally understand what kind of guy I am? Or perhaps it really does make you happy to have me strip you down like this.”
*RIIIIIP*
[00:55] “There we go...~! ...Can you tell~? You’re quite the sight right now! Your cheeks are flushed bright red as well. Are you ashamed, perhaps? In that case, I’ll do more and more embarrassing things...Don’t you think that’ll actually make it easier in various regards? Fufu~”
*Rustle*
“Hm...~”
*Sniff sniff*
“Ah...Now that you mention it...I feel as if you smell a little different from usual...”
He takes a deep breath.
“Does your scent change when you get embarrassed?”
*Sniff sniff*
[01:43] “What kind of smell is this? Are you hiding something in your body after all? Is this what those guys go so crazy about? ...Oh well. I’ll just check directly with my fangs. That’s the quickest and easiest method. ...Listen carefully. You better keep still, okay? If you make even the slightest suspicious movement, I’ll kill you. ...Well then...Time to expose your secret~”
*Sniff sniff*
“Such a lovely scent...I can’t get enough of it...Seems delicious. I honestly can barely believe a girl of your caliber would smell this good.”
*Rustle rustle*
[02:37] “I wonder where it’s coming from...~ Here? The shoulder? ...Or maybe here? Hmm...~”
Kou bites you.
“Mmph...Nn...”
*Gulp*
“Nn...”
*Gulp*
“ーーHah! Haah...Not here? Then...Here, maybe? Your side...”
*Gulp gulp*
“Hahn...Haah...Not bad at all...”
*Sluuuuurp*
[03:28] “...Huh? You’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes now as well! You really must love this after all, don’t you? Fufufu~ ...Or do you like me, perhaps? Ah, that must be it! No matter how weak you are to a pair of fangs, the person they belong to is still very important, no? The fact you want me to suck you more is written all over your face after all.”
*Rustle*
“How does it feel to have a Vampire like me have an interest in you? ...Are you happy? Of course you’d me!”
You frown.
“Most human girls swoon over my looks alone so no need to hide it!”
You explain. 
[04:21] “Eh? You would never form an opion on someone based solely on their appearance? Haha...Ah-aah~ I wonder how long that courage will last? ...Didn’t I tell you it’s in your best interest not to upset me? You really are a fool...”
Track 6: One Penalty Calls for Another
“Ahー This pisses me off...I’m going to suck you completely dry.”
*Rustle rustle*
“Mmh...”
Kou bites you again.
*Gulp gulp*
“Hah...Haah...Your blood is seriously delicious...”
*Gulp*
“But you know...No matter how tasty it may be, the punishment for upsetting me is nothing to scoff at, you know?”
*Rustle*
[00:37] “A crime calls for a penalty! Exactly! I have to punish you! Fufu~ Let’s see...”
*Rustle*
“I’ll suck from your ear next. From a hard spot. So it might sting a little, but that would make you happy, wouldn’t it? ...I’ll hurt you plenty.”
He bites your ear.
“...Hm? It hurts to be bitten there? Heeh~ I see...Hahn...”
*Gulp*
“Haah...I’ll lick you then. None other than me.”
*Sluuuurp*
“It’s gushing out even from the inside...”
*Sluuuurp*
[01:48] “Haah...Aha...Fufu~ What’s wrong? Why are you crying so much? Ah! Are the ears one of your erogenous zones perhaps? Geez, don’t get all worked up just because I bit your ear.”
You protest.
“Hm...~? It only hurt? Heh. There you go telling lies again. Well, not that I care.”
*Rustle*
“I figured it’d be fine since humans have a custom of piercing their ears. I guess while they’re resistant to pleasure, the same can’t be said about pain?”
*Rustle*
“Hah...For some reason, I’m feeling a little lightheaded as well. I see...So that’s the kind of effect your blood has on us. Just like some sort of drug. Also, here...”
Kou moves his hair to the side.
*Rustle rustle* 
[02:52] “Take a look...At this right eye of mine. Can you tell? It’s shining, isn’t it? Your blood triggered this. It has happened a few times in the past as well, but your blood really is special.”
Your eyes widen in surprise.
“...Fufu~”
*Creaaak*
“Heh~ ...Phew...For prey, you’re sure living the dream right now, getting someone like me to join you in bed. I guess you’ve seen Vampires fall head over heels for your blood time after time, huh?”
You deny it.
[03:43] “No need to deny it. I can tell after all. ーー You no longer hold any secrets for me. So don’t hide it. It’s pointless anyway. Ah-aaah...How frustrating...If only you had at least one other thing going for you.”
*Rustle rustle*
“But no matter how I look at you, you’re just a little masochistic kitty...Haah~”
*Rustle*
“Hm...”
He bites you again.
*Gulp*
[04:26] “...Yet we’re being pushed around by someone like you. How could I not get agitated? ...Do you understand how I feel?”
*Sluuuurp*
*Gulp*
“When I consider how content it must make you feel about yourself...I just want to drive you into a corner and make you face a pitiful death. You see, up until now, I’ve never gotten fixated on anything, let alone some human girl. This blood...”
*Rustle*
“...is to blame for everything.”
*Gulp*
“I’ve gotten worked up as well. Fufu~”
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
52 notes · View notes
immoralitys · 2 years
Text
TEST MUSES ---- !
marcos whyte, 25 y/o, drew r*y tanner fc
fabricio baier, 22 y/o, michael c*mino fc
arin colombo, 44 y/o, chris m*ssina fc
caden grant, 40 y/o, l*e pace fc
kasey basile, 21 y/o, sav*nnah lee smith fc
pacey basile, 21 y/o, sav*nnah lee smith fc
as i’m incapable in not coming up with new muses constantly, under the cut are the bios and blurbs of new muses i’m in the process of fleshing out!
name: marcos whyte.    d.o.b. 9 june 1997.   faceclaim(s): drew ray tanner.   gender: cis male.   pronouns: he/him.   sexuality: bisexual.   nationality: brazilian.   ethnicity: jamaican-chinese.   languages: portuguese, patois, english   occupation: graduate student in social work, graduate employee/assistanship.  role: switch (primarily dominant).
marcos is a player, by any and all means. very flirty. frequently spends his weekends at parties.
grew up working class, originally got an athletic scholarship to live in the u.s. as long as he played on their soccer team (most likely a d1 school, think the tar heels or hoosiers), so he moved to the us when he was about 19. currently a graduate social work student focusing on systematic bias towards immigrant families. 
struggles with informal written english, commonly gets confused with the connotation behind text messages from people or doesn’t pick up on tonal changes. has no problem with hearing informal english, but he’s the strongest in formal written english (ie academia)-- not informal.
his entire family still lives in brazil (salvador de brahia), which includes his grandmother, mother, and younger sister. he typically facetimes his mother for hours once a week, as they watch her favorite telenovela together.
when he’s extremely tired, overworked, overwhelmed, or any extreme emotion really, marcos tends to switch back to his native tongue (portuguese). sometimes its easier for him to figure out what he wants/needs this way, and will commonly reiterate what he said afterwards in english.
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name: fabricio baier.   nickname(s): “ricio” (ree-SEE-oh) or “fabi”   d.o.b. 12 december 1999.   faceclaim(s): michael cimino.   gender: cis? male (figuring it out).   pronouns: he/him/his.   sexuality: queer (attracted to women and those feminine-presenting).   nationality: puerto rican.   languages: spanish, english   occupation: professional skater (inline), part time worker @ a friend’s skate shop.  role: true switch.
‘girls’ by justus bennetts is his life anthem
has a tendency to get in relationships far too fast, is liable at any point in time to have his heart broken
“raised by women” softie vibes . raised by two moms (kiara aka “mom” and fabiola aka “mami”), his grandparents (grandma on one side, grandma & grandfather on the other). his grandfather had memory issues all fabi’s life, eventually turned into alzheimer's, has nothing but amazing memories with him. thought his grandmothers were also lesbians until about age 8, because they were very close friends & neighbors, so to him that meant they were dating just like his moms. occasionally saw his birth father, who fufilled more of that “flighty and eccentric uncle” role, but never felt like he was missing out.
wanted to be tony hawk as a kid, but neither of his mothers knew how to skateboard, but his mami (fabiola) DID know how to rollerblade so she taught him how. it’s his main passion in life, spends a significant amount of his time practicing. competes in every major competition. sponsored by vans and seba skates. gives free lessons to kids @ his childhood friend’s skate shop in california. 
does NOT believe he is “gifted” or a “natural talent”... barely believes he’s talented lbr. but he does think that he’s worked incredibly hard to get where he is, and couldn’t have gotten where he is without his family’s help.
see diaby diako or jeremy domingues for skill level/skate presence.
consistently ranked in top 10
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name: arin colombo.   d.o.b. 1 october 1977.   faceclaim(s): chris messina.   gender:  cis male.   sexuality: bisexual (male preference).   nationality: american.   languages: english, italian, asl   occupation: art broker.  role: dominant.
clientele are primarily high class criminals looking for a way to hide dirty money
has an african gray parrot who is 35 years old, arin got him when he was 9 years old because his grandparents didn’t want to deal with a cat or a dog. the bird’s name is el-el after ll cool j (”el-el looks more sophisticated”). knows about 900 words. is potty trained. arin treats el-el like a child. has a significantly large aviary on the roof of arin’s apartment building.
wears birkenstocks
bleach blonde hair
+tbd
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name: caden grant.   nicknames: "denny” --- most people, “cady” --- his late brother, and he hated it, 10/10 do not recommend calling him it,   d.o.b. 21 august 1981.   faceclaim(s): lee pace.   gender:  cis male.   sexuality: bisexual.   nationality: american.   languages: english (fluent), mandarin (fluent),    occupation: retired tech mogul.  role: switch.
owns 3 golden retrievers “the three cheese blend”, all of which are named according to what cheese their coat color corresponds to : marscapone (white coat),  manchego aka “manny” (fawn coated), and mimolette (red coated).
drives a hybrid chrysler mini-van “so my dogs r comfy”
also has a pininfarina battista that his old business partner bought him in 2021 as an anniversary gift for the company..... does not like it, thinks its too flashy, only uses it on rare ocassions
was on his college’s rowing team, cross country team, and soccer team.
still runs for sport, does a lap around his property every day (abt 4 miles)
kayaks a lot
exclusively wears patterened crew socks
is also a fan of patterned boxers
wears crocs (with socks) in the colder months, wears birkenstocks during the summer
everymorning for breakfast he has oatmeal with brown sugar, raisins, and peanut butter every morning.
buys his clothes at target, old navy, or l.l. bean
primarily flannels, graphic tee’s, jeans, cargo shorts, think peak dad
used to own a multi-billion dollar tech company (think akin to like... bill gates?), sold all of his shares 3-4 years ago as he was “tired of it” and “didn’t like computers enough to do this forever”. 
he came to this revelation after his older brother, brayden “bray”, died at age 51, due to a car crash while intoxicated (aka was drunk and drove his car off the cliff on a turn)
lives in a converted barn (see here) in a forest somewhere in the pacific northwest, about an hour away from a major city (like salem, tacoma, etc). 
owns like 600+ acres around his home, which is almost all highly-coveted farmland. he really only uses like 5/6 acres. leases the land rent-free to low income/poc families & farmers ... helps supply the machinery needed (bc fuck the big 6 seed companies and the regulations they put on farmers)
owns a beachfront home in california (probably looks like this), absolutely HATES IT ! thinks its too gaudy . spends a very small amount of his time here . only has it still because his dogs like the beach and finding dog-friendly beaches in the summer is impossible .
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kasey basile (savannah lee smith fc): 21 y/o
occupation: undergrad student (political science major, engineering minor), d1 volleyball
hobbies: academic clubs, volleyball, extra-credit, dodging calls from mom & dad
+: argumentative, hardworking, agile
-: blunt, over-critical, accidental insomniac
TIDBIT: that friend that always has a snack in their bag. only has like 3 outfits (day-to-day/business casual, volleyball uniform, and banquet) and never strays from them, owns several of the same shirt/pants/socks. over-critical, nothing they do is good enough and nothing they achieve is enough. is always worried about what they have to do next... primarily because their parents thought that everything is either a waste of their time or part of their competition with their future. the way they're so over critical of themself stems from this behavior from their parents. very detached from their emotions because of the high pressure they have on their actions... wishes DESPERATELY they could confidently find connections and meaning in things. doesn't know when the last time they felt happy was, never felt love (other than from and for her twin sister, and like 1 friend they share). just wants to feel something. went all-american for volleyball during high school, has been on the all-american college team once. received several full rides to schools.
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pacey basile (savannah lee smith fc): 21 y/o
occupation: key-holder at a record store/indie art gallery, dog sitter
hobbies: watching movies, arts & crafts, collecting plants
+: self-assured, artsy, easily impressed
-: impulsive, air-headed, regretful
TIDBIT: has more plants than sq ft in their apartment. takes her dreams way too seriously, lets them be the verdict for things they definitely should be. "oh, i'm not riding the bus today. i had a dream where a guy showed me his penis on the bus last night, and now i need a break" . always tells people, in extreme detail, when they appear in their dreams. AWFUL self control and impulse management... rushes into decisions, speaks before they think, spends a lot of their time apologizing for their own actions shortly after they're done. always buys things that are being sold by kids... no matter how bad the lemonade looks or how little they like girl scout cookies. did NOT receive the same pressure or attention from their parents as their twin did (they had a club foot at birth so their parents were immediately like :/// wack ass hoe)... because of this they'll do almost anything or anyone to feel wanted/the spotlight.
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name: shana thompson.   d.o.b. august 1st 2000.   faceclaim(s): ciara bravo.   gender:  cis female.   sexuality: bisexual.   nationality: american.   languages: english (fluent), latin (fluent),    occupation: law student/intern.  role: submissive.
grew up mega religious
im talking “it’s only a sin if it’s in my c*nt” religious
doesn’t even touch herself
a giant wip
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