#for two i STILL need to write the damn documentation which means struggling with the systems for the in racket | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

highwaytosickfics · 1 year ago

Text

*grumbles* can't believe i gotta write stuff if I want to read it. Anyways, here's something I fiddled with for a couple weeks:

It started with a soreness in his throat. Nothing too obvious, just a scratchiness that wouldn't dissipate. It was painful, but not to the point of feeling like an emergency. It was just…distracting.

‘It's fine, I'm just dehydrated’’ Vox had reasoned to himself, reaching for a Voxtek-brand reusable water bottle that'd been brought along with his coffee by his assistant earlier that morning. He quickly drank, instantly rewarded with a coolness that eased his discomfort for a few moments. He swallowed and swore it felt like glass in his throat. The irritation built up again not too long later, but the work came first so he resigned himself to sipping occasionally from the bottle's straw while he focused on his ever growing number of tasks.

The plans for Angelic Security were still taking shape, which had led to everything from meetings that could’ve been emails to emails that should've been meetings. Voxtek was a mostly paper-free company, so most of the documents Vox needed to read through were pdfs written in extremely tiny fonts that burned at his electronic retinas. He used to just download them into his consciousness, but after the fiftieth time he’d caught a severe case of malware from an infected file, Vox had decided that it'd be safer to just manually read the damn things.

Regular work wasn't the only thing keeping him busy either; Valentino had been on a rebellious streak lately, causing trouble for the brand by openly stalking his “merchandise”, saying and doing the wrong things at the VERY wrong times (usually in front of a camera or a phone) and destroying company property during his tantrums, which OF COURSE Vox had to arrange replacements for.

On top of that, Velvette needed some extra help preparing for her next fashion show. While normally Vox wouldn't need to step in, he could see that the young overlord was struggling with finding quality crew and equipment on time. It was only natural that he'd lend a hand; if the show wasn't properly televised and live-streamed, it'd mean losing the precious revenue they needed to meet their goals this quarter.

And then even with all that, he still needed to prep for the next upcoming overlord meeting (which Carmilla insisted they all attend this time), trying to figure out what the fuck the radio demon was planning, the regular business meetings, the tv appearances, the interviews…Vox felt a headache beginning to form just thinking about it all. It was overwhelming, better to just ignore it and keep working. Just keep chugging water and caffeine and eventually everything would turn out fine, right?...right?

-------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly, everything did not magically become fine; in fact, it had only gotten worse. His throat felt like it'd been shredded on the finer side of a cheese grater. The momentary relief he felt from the water weighed disproportionately to how it sloshed in his stomach not too long afterwards. Water and acid burned at the back of his throat, something he did his best to keep down as he went about his work. At some point during the week, his assistant must’ve heard him cough and helpfully left a bag of lozenges without saying a word. The eel demon was smart enough to know that actually asking Vox about the illness would make him the next meal of the sharks floating in his boss’s tank. Obviously it wouldn’t be a permanent death; like every other sinner, the eel would respawn in a random location, body fully intact. Still, not exactly an ideal reward for vocalizing the slightest amount of sympathy.

The lozenges had been helpful in keeping his coughing down and his voice sounding mostly normal around the usual clients, employees, and reporters. The bag was empty now, the last couple having dissolved into nothing a few hours ago, and Vox could feel the absence.

‘Just two more paragraphs, Vox.’ The television overlord thought to himself as he squinted to read the eight point font some asshole wrote this stupid contract in. ‘Two more paragraphs, and then you can go back to your penthouse and sleep this shit off for a couple days.’

What was usually such a simple task was made ever more difficult by the rhythmic pounding in his head. The small letters blurred in his vision, causing him to read the same sentences over and over before he caught himself and gave a frustrated groan. Said groan aggravated his throat and caused a wave of coughs to shake his frame. He curled in on himself a bit, trying to dampen the noise even though literally no one else was working on this floor so late at night. What time was it again anyways?

Briefly forgetting that he could just open the clock app he had installed, Vox instead squinted at the tiny numbers at the bottom right-hand corner of his computer.

3:45 A.M.

Monday

…wait a minute, Monday? Did he fucking-

Vox sighed, frustrated and clutching the sides of his screen in his hands. He’d worked through the weekend again, goddamnit. Why didn’t anyone come grab him? Velvette would’ve been busy with her next show, but Saturday was date night! Valentino should’ve at least stomped over at some point angry that he was late-

‘Oh, that’s right, we’re off right now aren’t we?’ Vox and Valentino’s relationship was about as stable as a house of cards; it was a constant cycle of fighting, breaking up, and then getting back together with admittedly fantastic makeout sex before the fighting started anew. They were currently in the breakup stage, with Val being the one to call it off this time around.

Honestly he couldn’t remember what they were fighting about, probably something related to Alastor or Angel Dust (they’d been the source of many an argument for one reason or another). Vox had let him go, knowing the moth would eventually want him back. Valentino would go through his rotation of whores and either get bored or need something. Then he’d bring some kind of shitty apology gift, like a five dollar rose or a bottle of cheap champagne…and of course Vox would take him back, because honestly who else was willing to go out with the tv overlord?

Still, this was the longest that Vox could remember the two of them being broken up; it’d been like what, two or three weeks? Maybe Val had been serious about ending things this time…God what was Vox going to do if Val had been serious this time? How was this going to affect their business partnership? How was he going to tell Velvette he’d fucked everything up? Unless the two of them were planning behind his back…

Vox shook himself out of that train of thought, wincing at the wave of pain that sent down his neck to his shoulders. This was just the exhaustion talking, Vox knew; The far more reasonable assumption was that Val had simply forgotten that they’d broken up and hadn’t needed anything that’d cause him to remember. Valentino was good at his side of the business, but the constant stream of drugs and sex tended to muddle with his memory from time to time. Besides, if his other two business partners WERE planning to stage a coup to kick him of Voxtek (which is ridiculous, the company’s got his fucking name on it!), he would’ve had some sort of audio or visual evidence by now and been able to build at least ten contingency plans to counteract whatever the fuck they had concocted. Everything was fine, Vox just needed to sleep (preferably in a bed, but he wasn’t picky), and when he woke up with a clear head, he could find Val and sort everything out.

Fuck the contract he was reading, he wasn’t able to remember most of it anyways. Vox shut down his computer, listening to the fans as they slowed. He pushed himself out of his chair-

And then proceeded to fall forward.

‘Shit!’

The overlord collapsed to the floor, landing hands first if only to save him the trouble of having to get a new screen. Everything fucking hurt; His bones ached, muscles shaking as he tried to push himself up. His head felt heavy, like someone had replaced his modern-day flatscreen with the CRT TV he’d shoved into the back of his storage room decades ago (he didn’t throw it out, couldn’t, it held far too many memories).

Vox managed to crawl his way to the couch, but he stopped before he could climb up on it as a wave of nausea sent him scrambling for the (thankfully lined) waste bin next to it. He managed to stick the bin in front of his face right before a stream of vomit could potentially ruin the luxury carpet. Minutes dragged like nails on a chalkboard as Vox heaved into the basket until he felt completely wrung dry. It was mostly water, which vaguely made the overlord wonder when the last time he ate was…yeah, that was probably a bad sign.

Vox moved the bin away from him to escape the smell. He bit down a whimper as a notification went off in his head, sending a sharp spike of pain through him. The notification was a reminder for an appointment he had in an hour…fuck that, he wasn’t going to be able to act professional in this state.

Instead Vox went into his scheduling app and canceled everything he had planned for the next week, marking the newly open days with self-approved sick days. They’d show up as regular vacation days to anyone else that bothered to look for him; couldn’t let people know he was in a weakened state after all. He sent a quick text to Velvette, lying about a business opportunity of some kind in the next town over. It was a bullshit excuse, and Velvette would definitely know that, but she was busy enough right now that she probably wouldn’t care. Vox initially pondered just sleeping this off in his penthouse, but Val and Vel had a habit of breaking and entering and wouldn’t hesitate to do so if they felt like they needed something from him, regardless of how inconsequential what they were asking for actually was.

No, if he actually wanted to get rid of whatever the fuck this stupid bug was, he’d need to find a place to rest that they couldn’t easily access. Ideally somewhere remote and well-guarded with not a lot of people…and unfortunately, there was only one place he could think of at the moment that fit that description.

Hazbin Hotel sickfic prompt 3

Vox has a lot of responsibilities; he needs to keep his customers happy, his employees paid, and his business partners alive and out of trouble. It's unsurprising that he frequently overworks himself, though he didn't think it'd get bad enough to make him ACTUALLY sick.

Thankfully, it seems that someone is caring for Vox for once.

(Optional: Vox getting so overwhelmed with people bothering him to do stuff while he's sick that he ends up getting a room in the Hazbin Hotel for a night just to get some proper rest because "no one's going to start shit at the princess of hell's hotel with the radio demon as her guard dog")

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spencersawkward · 4 years ago

Note

if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together

me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted!

summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.

but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.

and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--

"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.

"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.

a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.

he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.

as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.

every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.

I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.

my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.

I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.

which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.

it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.

towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.

"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."

at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.

as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"

my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.

I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.

"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.

"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.

"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."

"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.

"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.

"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."

he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.

"are you struggling with the content?"

"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.

"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."

"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.

"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."

"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.

but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.

when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.

"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.

"only one minute, though. I had another class."

he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.

"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.

"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.

"I didn't know you cared."

"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.

"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."

"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."

"not completely." I shrug.

"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.

"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."

Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.

"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.

"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.

I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.

"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.

"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"

"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.

"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"

"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.

"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."

"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."

"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"

"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.

"why?"

"well, I mean, you're a student--"

"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."

"w-what?"

"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.

he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.

"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."

"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.

"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"

as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.

god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.

"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.

"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.

I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."

one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.

"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"

"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.

"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.

"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.

"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.

"I'll be good." I practically beg.

"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.

"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.

"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.

instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.

"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.

"mhmm."

"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."

"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.

he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.

he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.

"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.

"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.

"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."

he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"

"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."

"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.

he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.

"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.

"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.

"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.

"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.

"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."

"thank you." I whine.

"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.

"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.

"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.

"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.

"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."

the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.

"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.

"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.

"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.

"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.

"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.

"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.

"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.

he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.

"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."

"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.

"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.

"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."

I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."

"math is not fun."

"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #dr. reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #professor reid

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unloved-cadillac · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, can I request one where Levi had a bad Day at work and when his fem s/o tries to help him he takes his frustration on her and she starts to give him the silent treatment? Sorry for my bad english💖

C/n: no no your English is fine. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

———————————————————————

No Words.(Levi x Reader)

If there was one thing that Levi hated in his adult life, it was people getting on his nerves.

Today just wasn’t it. Levi could feel his head starting to throb and his blood boiling. It was super hot and he had to stay outside for three hours training the new recruits. And when there’s new recruits, there’s stupid mistakes and horrible decisions.

He could not wait to get back inside to have a cold shower and to have his new tea that he bought a couple of days ago. But it looks like, the Man upstairs wasn’t on his side today.

“Levi.” Moblit calls to him and hands him papers. “What’s this?” Levi asks annoyed as he looks through it. “New documents sent by Erwin. He needs you to look over it ASAP and to sign these.” He gives him another stack of papers. “What the fuck? Now?” He asks Moblit. “Yeah. Unfortunately.” Moblit says and turns and walks away. “For fuck’s sake.” Levi muttered and went into his office.

It was dinner time in the Survey Corps and Y/n walks through the halls to her love’s office. She hasn’t seen him the whole day which made her a bit worried because he didn’t even have lunch. Y/n stood in front of his door and knocked. “What?” His rough voice said and she smiles to herself. “It’s me.” She calls and she hears a faint “come in.” Y/n enters his office and he heart sinks at the state of it.

Papers scattered, his desk was a mess, teacups dirty and just laying there. “Levi? What happened here?” She asks as she looks around. “Nothing. What do you want, Y/n?” Levi asks harshly making her wince a bit. “What do I want? Levi, you haven’t eaten the whole day. By the looks of it you were only drinking tea. It’s not enough. Did Erwin give more paperwork?” She asks as she looks as the papers. “Yeah. Seriously, Y/n. I need to do this. Go and eat.” He tells her and she doesn’t move. Instead she takes his hand that was busy writing and holds it, jolting his movements. “Come on, baby. Eat something first.” She tells him softly and he scoffs. Levi abruptly pulls his hand away and looks at her.

Levi’s eyebags were beginning to darken and he looked drained of all life he had. “Y/n. I’m not going to tell you again. Leave me alone.” He threatens and she sighs. “Levi. Please just-” “GET OUT! Stop being so damn irritating for once.” Levi cuts her off and she shuts up. His chest was heaving, but he rolled up his sleeves and continued to write not even acknowledging how Y/n’s tears were running down her face. She puts her head down and walks out of his office and shuts the door behind her, leaving Levi to work.

~~~~

Two Hours Later.

“Fuck.” Levi groans as he rolls his shoulder and wrist. He exhaled and looks outside of his window. By the looks of it, it was already 10pm. He suddenly thought of his conversation with Y/n. “Oh shit.” He sighs out and puts his face in his hands. He was such an ass. He should’ve just left the paperwork and went with her, or not give her such for trying to get him something to eat. Your heart was always in the right place but his head was thinking when he shouted at her. He groans as he thinks of the shot he said to her, stupid shit that he should have never said.

Levi wakes up from his desk and goes outside to find Y/n. He needed to apologize. To own up to his mistake. But, he couldn’t find her. She wasn’t in her office nor the mess hall. So Levi goes to his next hope. “Yo, Four-Eyes. Where’s Y/n?” He asks Hange as she wipes her equipment. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since dinner when she went to get you. Where were you, by the way?” She asks. “Shitty Eyebrows gave me heaps of shitty paperwork.” He tells her as he runs a hand through his hair. “Ohhh. But no I haven’t seen her, Levi. Sorry.” Levi nods and leaves. Where could she be? If she wasn’t coming to bed with him, where would she sleep? “The girls chambers. Shit I can’t go in there.” He mumbles to himself but he continued to walk there anyway. He just stood outside and looked at the door. Levi couldn’t wait till morning but it looked like he had no other choice. So he left back to his office where he wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep, because Y/n wasn’t next to him.

“Is he gone?” Y/n ask from the bedroom. “Yeah. You can come out now.” Y/n opens the door and walks to Hange. “Thanks. I owe you one.” She says as she sits down. “So can you tell me what happened?” Hange asks and Y/n explains everything. “Shit. What are you gonna do?” Hange asks Y/n who rubs her face. “I don’t know. I’m just angry right now. With him.” Y/n says and Hange lays a hand on her shoulder. “Get some rest, Y/n.”

~~~~~

The next morning, Levi saw Y/n sitting and talking with Hange in the Mess Hall. Finally. Levi and her lock eyes for a short while but she continues to talk with Hange. “Tch.” He walks and makes his tea and sits across from her. She could feel how intense his gaze was, the aura that radiated from him almost made her want to turn to him and tell him to knock it off. But she didn’t. She didn’t want to piss him off further.

“Y/n.”

She almost flinched at the sound of her lover’s voice. But she didn’t acknowledge him making Hange make big eyes at her and motioning her to her to look. But Y/n subtly shakes her head and gulps down her coffee. “Ms L/n.” Y/n turns to see her commander standing next to her. “Commander.” She says and Levi’s eye twitches. “The new recruits need more training. They’re waiting for you on the field.” Erwin tells her and she nods. Waking up, she nods farewell to hange and completely ignoring Levi’s presence. He almost grabbed her wrist but said no. She’s probably would’ve slapped him if he did.

Y/n stood in the training grounds and watched the cadets train. She expected that they would probably be done by lunch and she could finally rest. What she didn’t expect was to see Levi walking to the cadets. Oh god. What is he doing here?

“Cadets. Sparring time.” He orders out and looks at you. You break the eye contact as many cadets started to murmur among themselves. Y/n groans softly as Levi teamed up cadets with each other. The first match was up and Y/n watched while Levi watched her. His eyes never left. After the first five matches Levi stops the fighting. “Braun.” He says and Reiner stands up tall. “Sir?” He says. “Fight me.” Y/n gasps and looks at Levi with a “what the fuck are you doing” type of look. Levi takes off his jacket and meets Reiner who was already shitting himself. “Start.” He tells Reiner swings his arms in an attempt to punch his Captain but Levi easily dodged them. Suddenly, Levi looked at Y/n and brought Reiner on his stomach with his hands pinning behind his back. All while eye locking with his girlfriend. Y/n scoffs and turns and walks away back to the barracks and Levi wakes up from Reiner as he watches her. “Continue.” Levi orders and takes his jacket and walks to Y/n.

“What game is he playing?” Y/n mutters to herself and rolls her eyes. Unexpectedly, she is yanks by her waist and pulled into a nearby room and was pinned to the door as it closed.

Levi’s eyes bore in not hers as she tried to break away from his grip. “Stop. Stop struggling.” He whispers and she drops her head and became limp. “Talk to me.” He tells her but she doesn’t. What do you want me to say, idiot? Everything stopped and the silence filled the room. Y/n refused to look at Levi but he gently takes his hand and lifts her chin up. “I’m sorry. For what I said. I didn’t mean it. It’s just, yesterday was so horrible and I took out my frustration on you. I shouldn’t have.” Levi apologizes as he cups her cheek. After his apology, Y/n still didn’t talk to him. It’s like she couldn’t. Like she lost her voice from not speaking to him for so long. Levi began to panic.

“Y/n. Hey come on. Stop it. I’m sorry. Talk to me.” He pleaded wanting to her beautiful voice. The voice that tore him away from his nightmares. The one that brought him back to reality.

Y/n looked into his eyes as hers began to water. “I..” she began. “I don’t know, Levi.” Y/n says and looks down. His breath hitched and his eyes widened. “What? Don’t know what?” He asks and his heart began to race. “I didn’t mean that you were irritating. I didn’t, I swear. I love you. I love you so goddamn much. Don’t do this.” He rests his head on her shoulder as his voice cracked. Y/n sighed and hugged him back bringing him closer to her. “I’m not leaving you, idiot. I forgive and love you. But..” she pulls away and cups his face in her hands. “Let me take care of you. Let me help.” She whispers and he closes the gap between their bodies. It’s not hard or rough. He poured all of his love for her in that kiss.

“I will. Just never do that again. I was going insane without hearing your voice.”

———————————————————————

“Wake up to reality.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

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levicanpunchme · 4 years ago

Note

AAAAAA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCHHHH SYEGHQYEHW can i request something where the reader tries to persuade levi to take a break from his paperwork?? aaaaaaa i literally love u some much jagduwyshdsj thank you<3333

AAAAAA, I LOVE YOUUUUU 🙈 thank you so much for the kind words 🥺 I’m sorry this took a while but it’s finally here~! And thank you for requesting babe <333

——————————————————————

Levi X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Fluff/Angst

Sharing Your Exhaustion

The hallways were eerily quiet, presumably because the members were drained off after hectic training; they couldn’t help jump into their dreams before they had to head back for more painful training. You took nimble steps towards the captain’s room and rushed to open the door, knots forming in your stomach in bustling excitement. Yesterday, Levi was so busy with paperwork, you had chose not to visit him, not wanting to disturb him. There were days when you had to ignore your feelings because you were in a relationship with none other than Captain Levi, the strongest solider who shouldered the burden of humanity’s right to existence.

As you stepped in, you realised the room was lighted up, which was foreign because by this time, Levi would be waiting for you in bed with lights off. Your gaze sauntered from the empty bed to the wooden desk next to the window and caught sight of your raven haired boyfriend, seated before his desk with a pencil in his grip as he sharply wrote something down. You frowned, staring at the clock for reconfirmation.

It was one am. By this time, Levi would have tidied up his messy desk, taken a shower and waited for you to come over-sometimes even making personal trips to your room to get you.

You lightly shut the door behind you, taking light steps towards your hardworking boyfriend. Despite making zero to no sound, you caught his attention immediately as if he sensed you around; his bleak eyes seemed to warm up like the moonlight, his thin lips morphing into a tiring smile.

“How was training?” His gentle voice already calmed your nerves. “Tiring,” you muttered with a generous smile and made your way to his chair.

“Tch, don’t work so hard, brat,” he gruffly muttered, his voice etched with concern.

Nearing him, you noticed the blue lines of fatigue on his pale skin carved under his eyes, his forehead creased from tension, posture seemingly uncomfortable with his back positioned away from the chair, probably from leaning down to observe papers. An awful feeling arose in the pit of your stomach. Your judgment stood corrected as you observed the stack of parchments bundled on the side of his table. Just looking at it gave you a headache.

You instinctively stepped closer behind his chair and snaked your arms around his neck tightly, recompensing for the time away from him. The smell of him on the shirt you were wearing was nothing compared to his actual embrace. The shower you had taken before had helped your nerves ease after practise but Levi’s embrace completely sucked every last drop of ache out of your body.

A breathy sigh escaped his mouth as he eased into your hold, his breathing calm against your frame. For a moment, it was only you and Levi in your own bubble; nothing else existed. Two aching souls finding peace in one another. And then a moment later, the bubble bursted.

“Y/n, turn the lights off and get some sleep. I’ll need to stay working,” he put his hand over yours which were resting on his chest and nudged his head against yours, encouraging you to go to bed.

You frowned, your chest tightening.

Ever since the commander’s announcement for a new mission outside the walls, the workload was piquing- especially for the captains. The pile of documents needing Levi’s attention were still toppling his desk and he hadn’t even moved an inch from the worktable since before yesterday night. You didn’t see him at practise, lunch, dinner or even in the meeting with Hange. He seemed to have disconnected entirely from human interaction, determined to get his work done.

“Levi, you’ve been here since the whole day,” you muttered, expressing your discern with a frown. Your arms only grew tighter around him worriedly.

He shook his head, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “It’ll take me one more night and I’ll be done.” You peeled yourself away from him and stared at the man with desperation. You had come to a realisation that Levi coped in different ways in tense times. When the atmosphere became grim, he spent days drowning himself with papers and refused to take breaks- as if he was punishing himself. Even when he came back from expeditions, you wouldn’t see his face until a week after. He stared at words for so long that they probably haunted him.

“Levi, you’re overworking yourself to the bone. You need sleep,” you argued, scowling at the lack of concern in his narrow eyes.

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry. Now, go and get some sleep. You must be exhausted,” his words were stern, commanding you and his gaze indifferent, holding no room for debate. His eyes remained cold but you could tell he felt apologetic as he softly caressed your cheek with his palm, stroking them. He limply smiled, then nodded at you and motioned towards the bed, implying you leave him alone.

You stared at him distraught. How could Levi expect you to turn away and conveniently slip into bed while his red-rimmed eyes were starving for rest as he pushed himself more and more? Again an unsettling feeling arose in your chest; even his fingers were inflamed from gripping the pencil for too long; he rubbed the back of his neck occasionally which meant he had been craning it for too long to read the goddamn papers.

Your fists clenched in despair as you bit back the curses you wanting to ensue; dating a workaholic man with zero awareness was a pain in the ass. You sighed sympathetically at the man you loved and then stepped closer to the desk, in front of him. You grabbed one large pile of his documents and brought them with you to the bed.

“Hey-hey! What’re you doing?” He immediately sprung out of his chair, and it made you want to cackle because it was probably the first time his leg muscles contracted since he sat down with these documents on that damned chair.

“I’ll help,” you explained as you sat cross legged on the cold sheets of his bed, picking up the first stapled document.

“No,” he rasped. “You are doing no such thing. Get to bed, right now,” it wasn’t a suggestion but a chilling command; Levi’s tone was dangerously low, making your stomach knot up with nervousness.

You glanced up and regretted it immediately because it magnified your anxiety: his misty eyes were staring down at you scornfully, burning your skin; his chest heaved impatiently and his fists were clenched like he would pounce at you any second.

“Levi—“

“Every-fucking-one is beaten after today’s practise, I know that. Just because I wasn’t there, it doesn’t mean I don’t know shit. Hange informed me about your pathetically long training,” Levi’s voice was oddly rough but the coldness in his eyes melted. His face was scrunched in distress.

You loved this man so much with every part of you. How could he be worrying over you when he was literally starving and sleepless from the work pressure? Your nose burned, and you felt your eyes welling up, with overwhelming emotions, but you didn’t let him see that or he’d lose his sanity and flip the world over to know exactly the reason behind your tears.

You stepped out of the bed and walked close to him, edging to him until his nose was brushing yours conveniently since you both were the same height. At close proximity, his almond shaped eyes were tired-red and sully but there was also a strange glint of warmth in the dull grey clouds, reflecting the effect you have on him. His breathing was unsteady as he stared directly at you.

“If you’re too exhausted, we can share the exhaustion just like we share love, Levi,” you whispered, your lips meeting the corner of his mouth and landing it with a kiss. Jitters ran down his spine and his mouth tingled.

We can share exhaustion just like we share love. The words reverberated again and again in his head, tugging at the strings of his heart. At that moment, he wished to throw you into his bed and kiss your exhaustion away. He forcefully stepped back, his insides twisting in misery, desperate to have his way with you. You were always so understanding. Levi could never wrap his head around how you were so transparent and loving. You stood by him in miserable times, struggling to heal his endless wounds. Your selflessness ate at him because in this big, relentless world, he only wanted you to be selfish.

“I’ll arrange these documents, so you’ll know which ones merely require signatures and which need proper attention. It’ll decrease your workload and reading time to a great extent.” You were already on the bed, reading through the document with vitality.

He surveyed you for a moment, his heart drumming faster against his chest. “Come on, get going. We have a lot to do.” Levi timorously stepped back, watching you.

You already got to work and started assessing papers and reading through files. You almost threw in the towel by your fifth document but continued working, determined to help him. You mentally praised Levi’s great work ethics, his neat textura script making you smile.

Levi, on the other hand, stood frozen in his tracks; his chest felt strange as he watched you work on his documents. No one had ever done this-not that he ever wanted it. Hell, he was the strongest, most independent man, who never let his guard down which is primarily the reason why people didn’t bother with him. He alone equated to the strength of a thousand army of titans. He created this headstrong image for the world, Levi Ackerman, the hope of humanity, as he filled in gaps of weaknesses left in his trails.

Why did you see him? You knew he could take it, then why didn’t you let him be, like everyone else? Why did you want to shoulder his burdens by sacrificing your peace?

His head began pounding.

Before he saw you today, he was perfectly fine with his negligent ways: he didn’t feel his stomach rumbling from emptiness, his mouth as dry as the desert, his back aching from distress or his eyes stinging from sleeplessness. Now, when he saw you rubbing your red eyes, squinting them to read the documents and massaging your template in soft circles, he recovered his sanity.

As if he regained his humanity, his body which was numb from the moment he sat with those papers, collapsed into a surge of emotions.

He couldn’t bear it.

He treated himself inhumanely. But not you. God no, never you. You didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t treat you the way he treated himself. He’d rather throw himself off a cliff than give you a taste of his pain. Feeling overwhelmed, his vision blurred as he took heavy steps towards you. You looked up from the paper, hearing him moving towards you and your breath ceased.

Silver eyes were shadowy with a thunderous wave of agony, and a deploring frown weighted down his lips as his steps faltered towards you. You immediately stood up, your hackles rising in concern. You had never seen Levi look so defeated and beaten— not even when he came back from outside the walls. Your stomach twisted in despair. Maybe you had hurt him in your attempts to stick beside him. You felt tears choking your vision as you waited for him to throw you out of his room.

He was an inch away when his body fell against you, a squeal leaving your mouth. His arms were clasping around your waist as he pushed his weight down, causing your knees to buckle against the bed and you both fell. He was on top of you, his body completely attached to you like he were a part of you. Your heartbeat escalated as Levi looked at you, his red eyes drunk with exhaustion staring into the depth of your orbs.

Inside your dark eyes, he only saw himself. Only himself. His breathing hardened, mouth watering at the sight. He couldn’t take it anymore, his love for you triumphing over the last shred of common sense left in his brain. Drained and disillusioned, he found solace within you.

He attacked your mouth like a starved beast, every ounce of his being wanting you to feel the love bustling in his veins. Your toes curled in pleasure, the warmth of his mouth creating an euphoric sense of stability in your soul. You gripped his hair softly, running your fingers through his scalp and his eyes screwed shut in comfort. His lips kissed to your jawline and in the crevice of your neck, trailing downwards, marking your skin as his.

Your moans and his heavy breaths filled up the silence in the room.

“I love you,” he whispered and you swear you felt a wet droplet fall against your skin. Your stomach clenched; It was his first time telling you he loved you. You tried saying it back but no words left your mouth, just a stream of sobs.

Before, you felt him love you through his own unintentional ways but nothing could counter these three words falling off his lips just for you.

And then he rustled against the sheets, laying beside you and pulled you on top of him, your head resting against his chest. His heartbeat vibrating against your frame caused your tense body to ease in his hold. The documents sat on the edge of the bed, neglected. Soon slumber overpowered both Levi and your senses. Even though you both had to wake up within the next-six-hours, It was the best damn sleep Levi had ever gotten.

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Beyond The Darkness

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Angst, Relationship Struggles, Self-doubt, Insecurities, Swearing

Genre: Angst with Fluff Ending, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Y/N finally expresses their worries, reluctance and suspicions regarding their relationship with Corpse who is more than surprised to be hearing such confession, thinking their relationship couldn’t be more perfect. Well, perfect on the surface.

Requested by @cinnamonbun332 Hi darling! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! You asked for some heartbreaking and then heart-healing and I hope I delivered properly. Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

I didn’t choose to be insecure, I never wanted to be so anxious and self-conscious. No one can blame that on me for it’s something I’d get rid of within the blink of an eye if it were that easy. I didn’t choose to fall in love with Corpse either, it just happened. I was taken by storm by the feelings he awoke in me. It was terrifying and made me become a whole different person around him. I was torn between wanting him by my side at all times and never wanting to see him again for the purpose of those feelings dying down. That being said, I can’t be blamed for that either.

However, I can be blamed for one thing: accepting his offer for a date. I didn’t have to. I probably shouldn’t have accepted it just as much as he shouldn’t have brought it up. But, alas, I couldn’t help myself. That storm of emotions, that stirring lava within the volcano I was at the time was dying to seep out to the surface so it wouldn’t burn me from the inside out. Him asking me out on a date was practically the vessel for me to finally have a chance at expressing myself and how I feel and that’s something I’ve never been able to do properly or openly.

But with Corpse it has always been so easy.

Or...it was so easy.

It was easy until I started overthinking everything. Every interaction between us, between him and his friends. Between our two separate worlds.

I now have a hard time seeing us as a union, like we’re living together on the same planet of understanding and companionship. No, we’re more alike two planets in orbits near one another that are close but not close enough. Never destined to touch. Where I once saw light, I now see nothing. Almost as if I flipped the switch to my happiness myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if I did, it wouldn’t be my first time. I have a way of always finding a way to kill my happiness, put an end to my bliss. The key to doing so is what I already mentioned: overthinking, underestimating, undermining, over-worrying. In short: allowing my mind to torture me.

Sadly, it’s also forcing me to torture others.

At the moment, I’m spending day four back into my apartment, having come back with the excuse that I needed to get some piping fixed in the kitchen and needed to watch over the plumbers as they worked. I think Corpse bought that only halfway but if he didn’t believe me, he didn’t show it and I’m grateful for it. Or at least I think I am. Obviously, there was a part of me which screamed ‘See, he doesn’t care!’ at me when all he said in response to my announcement was ‘Oh, ok’. Of course, I didn’t pay that voice much mind then, but it’s starting to creep back in now and I really don’t know what to distract myself with to avoid hearing it. It’s not like I can internally deafen myself to stop it from eating away at me slowly but intently and with a scary determination that even I myself don’t have. Sadly, the pessimistic side of me does.

Truth be told, I wasn’t planning on staying home alone for four days straight, thinking I wouldn’t be able to make it that long without Corpse, thinking my loneliness would kill me. But, now that I am indeed alone, for some reason, I don’t feel really lonely, if at all. It’s refreshing and new, like a new but old perspective. Basically one I’ve missed for quite some time now without knowing that I did. Who knew going back to my empty apartment would be the cure to my messy head. Well, not a direct cure, but I have managed to map out at least a small portion of what’s going on up there, mend some of the damage I’ve done to myself.

Why do you always do that?

There’s that voice again, and some audacity it has! I’m not doing anything to myself! That voice is!

Saying that in court would easily land you in a mental facility, you know.

Fucking touché.

I think the reason why this is happening to me at the moment is because it’s been exactly four days since I last contacted Corpse. Or since he last contacted me. See what I’m going for here? See how toxic my mindset can be? Yeah, even I can hardly believe it sometimes. Like, how can something so dark be part of me - someone who used to be so cheerful and bubbly growing up. My nickname used to be ‘sunflower’ for a reason, but I might as well be a wilted willow now.

And who do you have to blame for that?

Will you fucking shut it!!!

As I’m in the midst of yet another self-argument, I near the doorbell ring, scaring me to the point I almost fall off my desk chair. I only then become aware of the blank MS Word document staring back at me. Throwing myself into work hasn’t been able to help me today. Instead of it distracting me from my struggles, it’s the other way around and I can’t fucking stand it.

Just like I’m beginning not to be able to stand myself. How Corpse and my friends do it, I have no idea. Well, they have it easy I guess, they don’t have to hear all the shit that happens in this beehive on my shoulders.

I lazily saunter over to open the door, not even thinking about looking through the peephole prior to turning the doorknob and swinging it open. That’s a mistake, considering that the mess I am is now face to face with Corpse. Let’s be honest, I’m past the point of stressing over how I look in front of him, we’ve been dating for almost a year now after all. However, this look on me right now is beyond disturbing. One that would leave him questioning if I need help or if I’m doing alright. The answer to both of those questions is no, by the way. Yes, to both.

“Corpse?“ I croak out, fighting my way out of the cloud of confusion surrounding me.

“Y/N?“ He replies, mimicking me though his confusion isn’t as much confusion as it is concern. Gotta say - rightfully so.

I shake my head as if awakening from a fever dream, basically hitting the ground head-first, “Um...yeah, uh, come in!” I finally manage to say, forcing my feet to step aside to allow him inside.

He nods and takes a step beyond the doorstep, cautious as though I’ve rigged the place with traps. I mean, ok, I’m weird, but not that weird. I’m not a complete psycho. At least not yet. Give me a few more months by myself. Or weeks.

“I haven’t been here in so long...“ he mumbles, sounding almost as if he’s talking to himself. Before I could say anything, he wanders off into the kitchen, “Where are the plumbers?“

“What plumbers?“ I blurt out, unable to contain the widening of my eyes when I realize what I’ve said.

You. Fucking. Idiot!!!

“The ones you came here to monitor...?“ His answer sounds more like a question as well, both of us just staring at each other as we await what idiocy will leave my brain and come out of my mouth next.

The silence lasts for a few seconds before he breaks it by speaking up again, “There are no plumbers, are there?”

“No, not today! I mean- not right now.“ I resist the urge to smack my forehead with the palm of my hand in embarrassment. “They’ll come back...later! They were here up until an hour ago.“

Real smooth, Y/N. This is why you never play Among Us

Corpse looks around, even taking a peek over my shoulder before making a mock-confused expression as he shrugs his shoulders, “Your kitchen looks pretty tidy for being a place of such complex fixes happening.“

I let out a hysterical gust of laughter, squeezing my thumb so hard I might rip it off my hand, “Yeah, you know me, I like my living space tidy.”

He nods slowly, “Yeah, I know you. I know you’re not.“

The air gets caught in my throat when he eyes meet mine when he says that. I feel redness creeping up my neck, spreading across my cheeks and climbing up to my forehead and ears.

Oh you’d so be ejected right now

“Y/N, what’s really going on here? Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong? If so, please just tell me. This silent treatment and avoiding is killing me. If I didn’t come here I would’ve gone insane. You would’ve found my walls with writings on them...“ He stops talking abruptly, letting out a soundless sigh as though his soul left his body, his gaze softening with sadness, “That is, of course, if you were even planning to come back. Ever...“

“Of course I was!“ I exclaim, feeling my chest tighten at the hurt I see in his eyes, “I just...I needed time. I still do.“

“Time away from what?“ He asks, desperate to hear the answer no matter how much it could hurt him.

I honestly don’t know what to tell him. I have no idea what I’m running from. I don’t even know if I’m running, hiding, contemplating, I have no idea what I’m doing. Is he the problem? Am I? Are we the problem? Our relationship as a whole?

“I don’t need time from anything, Corpse. I just...I need some time with myself. With my own thoughts. I’m really torn, have been for quite some time now. I don’t know what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know if I’m doing is the right thing. I don’t know if we are the right thing. I-...“ I buffer for a second, feeling the words start getting more and more tripped up as they climb up my throat. Eventually, they end up getting caught in an invisible net which doesn’t allow them to make it to my mouth, let alone leave it. Now at a loss for words, I let out a sigh of defeat, feeling my eyes welling up with tears, “I don’t know anything, damn it! I’m a mess. Why do you tolerate me? I’m no good to myself let alone to someone else!“

I don’t know where this outburst came from, but I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t relieving. I feel like a popped balloon, letting out what’s been straining me from the inside for a long time now. Lord knows how Corpse took it, I can’t bring myself to look up at him, but all I know is that I finally did something I can officially deem right.

Suddenly, I feel the familiar touch of Corpse’s hands on my shoulders, pulling my chest flush against his, his arms wrapping around me, enveloping me in a tight embrace. His lips plans a kiss a the top of my head before he rests his chin there, holding me tightly.

“Why haven’t you told me any of this?“ He whispers, his voice emotional to the point of almost making me regret saying all that.

Almost...

“I didn’t want to worry you.“ I let out a half-hearted chuckle, “And I didn’t want you finding out what kind of nut-job you’re dating.“

He scoffs, “Even if you were a nut-job, Y/N - which, by the way, you’re not - I wouldn’t mind. I’m a nut-job for you. Utterly and completely crazy for you, babe. I’m always here for you, always there for you to talk to me, tell me all that’s going on in that busy head of yours. All you have to do is talk, and all I’ll do is listen.”

I sniff briefly, “Now you’re making me regret not saying it earlier.”

“Then I’m doing the right thing.“ He mutters, his tone suggesting I take the wheel of the conversation and say all I’ve been keeping within me until now.

“You see, I tend to enjoy certain things a lot. Get attached to people super quickly and easily. And then, after a certain period of time, I find myself rethinking and overthinking everything about that thing or person to the point I’m not even sure I like it - or them - anymore. At least not to the same degree as previously. I slowly start become unsure of everything around me, even my own thoughts and feelings. It’s almost like where I used to see light, there’s now darkness. Worst part is, I’m the one who put that light out for myself. I always do it to myself and then hate myself for it. It’s a vicious cycle that I can’t escape - killing my joy and blaming and despising myself for it.“ I sigh, nuzzling my face into his chest, “I just wish this curse avoided our relationship. You’re too good to me, I love you too much to lose you, Corpse.“

I feel his arms tighten their hold on me even more, pulling me even closer despite it not being possible. “Y/N, you can’t lose me. Not over that, not over anything. We all have our demons, you just gotta remember to hold onto me tighter than those demons are holding onto you. You gotta let me help you when you realize you can’t help yourself.” He gently pulls away from me, his hands now coming up to cup my cheeks as he gazes into my eyes, “You gotta learn to see beyond the darkness you surround yourself with. Beyond the darkness, that’s where I’m waiting for you. I’m always gonna be there. I’m a very patient guy, you know.”

I can’t help but laugh, suddenly feeling the bubbly giggles escaping from my chest, pressed out of me by the massive wave of relief that’s washed over my sore insides. Sore from the holding back and now even more so from letting go. But damn does it feel good.

“Looks like I don’t need a plumber but an electrician to fix this light I keep turning off.“ I say, pushing up on my toes to only barely touch my forehead to his. Luckily, he sees what I’m trying to do, so he leans down. “I need him to make it un-turn-off-able.“

Corpse smiles, humming approvingly, “I can help you with that. Starting with...“ and with that he tilts his head, his lips colliding with mine.

I gotta say: damn have I missed this feeling.

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years ago

Text

Wings in the Dark Chapter 2: Suspicions

AN: Yeeaaahhh this one’s pretty much all from Levi’s POV. Get ready for some cat and mouse, guys.

Also I’m working on a playlist. hehehe. I love my playlists. Some songs just fit SO WELLLLL!!!!

Characters: Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Various BG Characters

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 5102

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

Levi leaned against the stone wall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and the shade of the roof mostly hiding him from view as he stared pensively out at the open field. The horse training was finished for the days, and the horses were being allowed time to roam in the open field for the time being. One individual, however, was spending some one on one time with a mare, walking through some common techniques to get a horse to trust you.

At first, he’d wondered why she was using such a long rope, since he was fairly certain the distance between a horse and a potential rider during this exercise wasn’t supposed to be that far. Quickly Levi realized that if she got much closer, the horse was not having it. It was truly afraid of her, though she appeared to be making some headway, if she was able to lead the horse around on the long rope while the other horses stayed clear.

Horses that had been trained and bred to retain nerves of steel and ignore their fears, especially in the presence of Titans and the chaos of a battle, and apparently all of them were at least skittish around her. That’s what he’d heard from the stablemaster, anyway.

Not a minor detail to be overlooked. And a problem, if she couldn’t get around it. Clearly, though, she was putting in the effort and time to fix it, and she didn’t mind going at the proper pace instead of trying to rush it. From what he’d been able to observe, she was also approaching the situation with an admirable amount of patience, no outward signs of frustration or anger when she reached a setback and had to back up a foot or so on the rope instead of shortening it a little more. Her approach changed slightly each time, too, attempting to adjust to fix whatever she’d done wrong the previous try.

Well, at least she had some positive character traits to be discovered alongside the worrisome fact about the horses he wasn’t going to ignore. So he could give her some merit while his suspicion raised a little more.

“Captain.”

Levi turned at the sound of his title, noticing the individual approaching him from the main building, a file in hand. He snapped a salute when he reached Levi, then held out the file for him to take. “You asked for the file on Cadet Y/N L/N.”

Levi nodded and took the file from him. “Thanks. You can go,” he said in a distracted tone, already opening the file as the soldier walked away.

His eyes scanned the information in the file, which was surprisingly scarce. Her place of residence was formerly Wall Rose, there was no living family, no record as he thought there might be after their spar. She ranked sixth in her class--which didn’t at all match the spar they’d had, and gave further credit to his belief she was purposely holding herself back even when it mattered for placement. Maybe she wanted to avoid the spotlight? She wanted her talents to be recognized, but she didn’t want them front and center since she was still trying to scrape by without her full potential being noticed. She excelled in individual evaluations, especially the physical and instinctual, but seemed to have some problem with others. It was noted in her file that she was a loner and outcast during training, suggesting teamwork might be a point of issue with her. The opinion of her classmates might shed some light on that matter--it could have easily been the other party and not necessarily her that was the issue. Some of her classmates had joined the Scouts as well, if he remembered correctly, so there were some around that could be asked.

Levi reached the end of the file far sooner than he expected.

There weren’t any official documents giving age or place of birth, just an inked in note marking that she was in her early twenties--older than most new recruits, strangely enough--and the name of the town she was born in. There weren’t any legal documents, and no visible records of her existence before she started leaving a trail behind in Wall Rose two years ago, with a rented space in her name and her official application to join the Cadet Corps the only real official documents here.

That shouldn’t have been possible. Of course, if she lived in the Underground beforehand, it would make perfect sense for her to have no trail until she surfaced, but it was right here in ink that she was born within Wall Rose.

Had she lied? Had she somehow managed to get topside without official immigration and slipped right through the fingers of the authorities? The Underground would have fit a little comfortably in his working picture of her--loner, exceptionally skilled in combat and other physical areas, not having a record before two years ago, the street fighting skills…

He wasn’t going to write off the Underground yet, but how she might have gotten topside needed some fleshing out before he could consider it more seriously.

Appearing out of the blue and an unknown past only made Levi’s unease grow. Maybe if there was more, he could have deduced what her reason for joining the military--hell, joining the Scouts--was.

More questions, and not much in the way of answers.

Dissatisfied, Levi returned to his position resting against the wall with the file now tucked under an arm, watching as the speckled grey horse with the black to white mane gradually came closer to her as the rope slowly shortened, but it’s caution and unexplained fear still kept it out of her arm's reach.

The new recruit in front of him was so nervous he was trembling. He might have thought he was hiding it well, but it was plain as day to Levi, who was leaning against the wall sipping on his cup of tea with eyes fixed forward on the recruit sitting on the other side of his desk. He’d called the young man in as a sort of character reference for L/N, asking him to state his opinion on the young woman’s abilities and if they were an asset to the Scouts.

His final question, however, had caused the recruit’s suddenly shifty demeanor, and Levi’s gaze narrowed slightly at him when he hesitated.

“Are there any qualities you feel she possesses that would be harmful to the Scouts?”

The recruit across from him couldn’t look Levi in the eyes, on the brink of saying something, but for some reason holding himself back. Levi waited for several moments before there was a spark of impatience starting to grow in him.

“Spit it out.”

The recruit’s shoulders hunched slightly, and he started to haltingly speak. “She doesn’t exactly get along with other people.”

Well, that could mean a lot of things. Levi wasn’t the friendliest person in the world, but that didn’t stop him from doing his damn job. Antisocial didn’t necessarily count as something that negated her ability to perform in the field. This kid needed to be more specific.

“Does she start fights with her comrades?” Levi asked bluntly.

“No, but she has been in a few--”

“Does she fail to communicate in the field?”

“Never, though--”

“Is she incapable of working as part of a group?”

“Not really--”

“Does she take actions that could cause harm to other members of the team in the field?”

“I haven’t--”

Levi let out a slow sigh. He kept interrupting the recruit because he didn’t need long winded answers that spun the narrative a certain way. He already knew he couldn’t entirely trust the feedback this kid was going to give him, because either he would downplay her abilities and up-play her flaws to make himself look better, or vice versa to make her look better, all based off the assumption Levi was asking because Levi was looking to have her join his squad.

It wasn’t too far off the mark, but Levi was considering adding her less and less the farther he dug into her background. And while he knew he couldn’t trust much of what the kid was going to say to his face, that wasn’t the point. It was what came after this that mattered the most, and it still gave him something to work with to get a little further in his investigation.

She communicated and worked just fine in a group, and while she had been in fights before, she hadn’t been the one to start them. It was starting to look more like harassment of some degree on the other side that kept her from interacting much with her peers. Aside from the pretty much confirmed antisocial behavior outside of the field, of course.

“You have to be more specific than ‘she doesn’t play well with others.’ I don’t always get along with other people--that doesn’t keep me from doing my job,” Levi deadpanned.

The recruit was really struggling to get it out now, his face all twisted up as he tried to rework his words. “While her skills are undeniable, socially, her relationship with her peers is...poor.”

Is that really what this amounted to? No one liked her because she wasn’t friendly enough with them? “Your complaint is that she’s not a social butterfly?”

“It’s more than that, sir, she’s not…”

Levi waited another five seconds before he decided this wasn’t being productive anymore. Time to kick him out of the office and go on to the next part, then. “Either come up with a solid answer, or I’ll take your silence as a no so you can leave to take care of that constipated look on your face.”

The recruit looked put out and frustrated, but he ended up standing from the chair and leaving, Levi watching him silently from over the rim of his cup and eyes lingering on the door after it had closed.

This sneaking around behind the scenes getting dirt on people was usually more Erwin’s speed, but Levi had been around Erwin long enough to pick up a few tricks of his own to use when necessary, like in moments like this. Levi could be subtle when he wanted to.

A few moments after the recruit walked out his door, Levi finished his tea, set down the empty cup on his desk, and followed after him, keeping far enough back that he wouldn’t be noticed. Just as he’d suspected, the recruit found his way back to another pair of recruits and proceeded to go about cathartically bitching about the situation.

Levi missed the part where the other two asked why Levi wanted to talk to him in his office, but since that wasn’t the important part, Levi wasn’t too concerned, stopping just around the corner and pressing his shoulder against the wall to listen in to what they really had to say about L/N when it wasn’t being filtered by the intimidation of speaking with a superior.

“Of course miss ice princess is being considered for Captain Levi’s squad. Why wouldn’t she?” the recruit who had been in Levi’s office was fuming.

“I don’t get why you two are so upset--if Captain Levi’s already asking about her, surely that’s because she has the potential, right?” asked the young woman in their group.

“You didn’t train with her--you didn’t see how downright infuriating she was! If it wasn’t for the occasional lost spar round or missed question on a test, or a margin behind someone else in an endurance test, whatever it was, she still somehow managed to look perfect. Even if you were ahead of her, it was like she was right there behind you!”

“Not to mention she didn’t even seem to try,” the third one muttered.

“Exactly! We’d work our asses off, and then she would waltz in and do whatever they asked her to as if it was as natural as breathing! It was so--so--so infuriating!”

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” the woman surmised.

“Wouldn’t you be upset? She didn’t even try! Then to make matters worse, she always acted like she was above us. Yeah she usually beat us all in everything, but she didn’t even try to be nice about it.”

“Yeah--I know this girl who tried to be friends with her part way through training. But she was always treating her like a plague--she’d move further away from her, or she’d ignore her attempts to talk to her or actively dodge her. She made it pretty damn clear she wasn’t in the Corps to make friends. And she was like that with everyone--she never let anyone get closer than necessary to her. Sure, she’d give you some tips in the middle of training, but it was always just what was necessary, and she never let the conversation move to anything personal. She’s a bitch,” the friend added.

“I figured all that time spent by herself, she was just focused on her training. It got me certain that she was going to be top of the class--some say she should have. Hell, I thought she’d be pissed when she got sixth, but I swear she looked pleased. Pleased! And I thought she wanted to at least make the top five with how fucking perfect she seemed.”

“Okay, so she was antisocial in training and she’s good enough at what she did that it made you all jealous. I still don’t see anything that would make you hate her so much. I’ve seen her around a few times and she doesn’t seem nearly as frigid as you all say. Distant, yeah, but she seems...warm, if a bit melancholy,” the woman said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let it fool you. She’s probably just trying to make a better impression now that she’s where she wants to be and is about to get placed--possibly in the best squad, now, too, apparently.” There was the sound of a boot scuffing the stone, then a thwack of a broom handle being thumped against the offender’s head. “Ow! And she’s not warm and she’s not innocent. I don’t know what she was doing, but she was up to something during training, even if we couldn’t prove it.”

“Oh? And what was it? She managed to get an extra loaf of bread on her plate?” the woman asked almost mockingly. Clearly she wasn’t convinced by their ranting.

“One of the most infuriating things about her was how she could break the rules and still get away with it! She used to sneak out all the time at night while we were in the Cadets, but no one could ever catch her. Even when we gave the instructors a warning that she would be sneaking out again soon, she still wouldn’t get caught, and we’d get in trouble for lying about a classmate. Not once was she caught, and we had classmates that could attest to her not being in bed at some point in the night, so we knew it was happening! But we could never prove it. It still drives me nuts to this day!”

“If you kick this floor again, I’ll hit you even harder--you are not messing up the cleaning job I’ve been working so hard on!” the woman fumed suddenly, and there was a bit of a scuffle before things calmed down again.

“I swear, if Captain Levi puts her on his squad I’m going to be so fucking--”

“Look at the bright side, you probably won’t have to deal with her anymore if that happens, because you’re nowhere near that league,” the friend teased. It sounded like there was going to be another scuffle breaking out, so Levi finally stepped around the corner to make himself known.

“Oi.”

The two boys immediately panicked, while the woman snapped to attention, eyes flickering to a fresh scuff mark on the stone with a clearly upset face to see the two were already back to mucking up her hard work. Levi ignored the two who were scrambling to their feet and trying to snap to a salute, walking past all three without even glancing at them.

“Get back to cleaning. And find another place to bitch about superiors,” he added before he continued down the hall and out of earshot once more.

Idiots.

There was nothing wrong with a little bitching to get it out of your system, but at least have the decency to do it somewhere less public where anyone could find and hear you.

However, Levi officially had some honest first hand accounts of her relationship to her peers, and a lead he could follow further into this mystery.

She snuck out a lot at night when she was in the cadets, huh? He wondered if she was still doing that now…

It seemed he had something to do now in the hours insomnia kept him from sleeping. He could keep an eye out to see if she was sneaking out, and try to figure out where she was going on these little escapades if they were, in fact, continuing after leaving the Cadets.

The more he looked into her, the more uneasy he became. He was already at the point where he knew he was going to have to bring up his concerns to Erwin, but he was going to make sure he’d gone as far as he could with this investigation of his before he went to Erwin.

For the first few nights after hearing about L/N’s nightly escapades in the cadets, Levi didn’t catch anything amiss. He was well aware of the best spots in this building to sneak out at this point, and had several points he liked to retreat to for some alone time that just happened to give him a good view of the surrounding area. He was fairly confident that if she tried to sneak out, he would be able to spot her as long as he was looking--which he was.

By the fifth night, he seriously considered the possibility that if she was doing something shady such as meeting a co-conspirator in the the night, the wise thing would be to cut all communication once she was inside the Scouts. If her nightly actions were something dastardly like that, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t see her sneak out because she wouldn’t make the attempts now in such a high risk area.

Still, Levi kept an eye out, always near a window at night so he could peer out into the darkness and see anyone trying to slip away if it did happen.

At long last, almost three weeks after the recruits had first arrived, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a hooded figure moving in the darkness away from the building. Believing it to be L/N, he got up from his seat immediately, taking the less forgiving but more direct route of climbing out the window and down to the ground so he could close the distance before she left his sight entirely and he lost track of her. Going through the building down to the ground floor and to a proper exit would have taken him too long, so his unconventional route was one he didn’t second guess.

Landing quietly on the paved stones, Levi crept forward at a walk that was barely restrained from becoming a jog for the first few moments, keeping to the shadows like his quarry as he attempted to follow after her. He wasn’t armed in case there was trouble, mostly because he didn’t get the luxury of enough time to grab a weapon--he’d only caught a fleeting glimpse, so he’d had to act instantly.

Levi managed to catch up to where he would want to be on a tail after two streets, feeling himself settle down internally once he was the desired distance away. She didn’t slow down, plowing forwards with a purpose that told him she knew exactly where she was going and she was going to waste no time getting there--he just had to keep up.

Yes, she. He didn’t have confirmation that it was her, but he was operating off the assumption it was between the story he’d heard and the fact he’d been waiting for something like this to happen and her to be the culprit.

He continued to follow her street after street, taking several corners, occasionally losing sight of her before he caught movement again and continued on the path. After a few minutes, however, he realized these direction changes weren’t exactly pointed and purposeful, but random. They happened too suddenly and without warning for them to be planned.

She knew he was following her, and she was trying to shake him.

Hoping to make her think that she lost him, Levi slowed down his pace, allowing her to pull a little further ahead, far enough away it would be more difficult for him to follow, but at the same time it would give her the impression that he was too far away and that she lost him.

Levi managed to make it a few more streets this way, catching the edge of a cape or a flash of movement as she turned a corner to give him a direction, until suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear footsteps or any other sound in the night, and he no longer had even a fleeting visual on her in order to give him a sense of direction.

That wasn’t possible. Pulling back had been risky, yes, but he’d been sure he could still keep track of her. And he should have at least been able to hear footsteps in the distance, because she would have had to speed up to lose him so suddenly.

Did she have ODM gear hidden under her cape? Had she taken for the skies to get out of visible range of the streets?

Wanting to test the theory before she could get too far, Levi used window sills, boxes by stalls, wooden awnings, whatever he could to climb up to the roof of one of the buildings, turning around swiftly with his head on a swivel as he tried to catch a glimpse of movement, a figure moving through the night either on ODM gear or on the streets down below.

Nothing. It was just him standing alone on this roof in the night’s silence.

Where the hell had she gone?

“Levi...why didn’t you bring this to my attention sooner?”

Levi scowled, meeting Erwin’s serious expression head on before he turned to move again, occasionally crossing the floor at an extremely slow pace, stopping for a while before he would turn around and move again. Considering Levi usually remained stationary, it counted as a sign of unease.

He had just come to Erwin with what he knew about L/N, which admittedly wasn’t much. For the most part, he was simply telling Erwin about his concerns and a bad feeling that he’d been harboring since meeting her. He did have some legitimate red flags, like her apparent trips out into the night that were continuing here at the Scouts and her lack of a record from before two years ago with nothing to show she might have been from the Underground.

“Because it was just basic curiosity at first, but the more I heard, the more I had to be concerned about,” Levi said pointedly, lips pulled down in a prominent frown as he mulled over everything in his mind.

“Well, based off what you’ve been able to find out, if she is a threat, how much of a threat would she be,” Erwin asked patiently, his eyes continuing to track Levi as he moved about the room. Levi stopped, turning his head slightly in Erwin’s direction.

“Erwin...she had me. In that spar on the training grounds. But at the last second, she shifted and threw the match,” Levi explained quietly.

“...I see.”

Levi turned around all the way to see Erwin sitting forward in his chair, hands laced together in front of him and pressed against his lips, eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Don’t mark her as an enemy in your mind, yet, Levi. Let this play out a while longer, first. This may be a situation where we need to spring the trap after it’s set to truly know the situation. So far, she hasn’t done anything to hurt humanity’s mission regarding the Titans. I don’t like how many unknowns there are with her, either, which is precisely why we have to approach this correctly. There’s as much a chance we could be wrong as there is that we can be right about her intentions.” Erwin’s hands carefully folded back over one another on top of the table, Erwin turning his gaze on Levi with that expression of his that usually appeared when he was mentally calculating a gamble. “Continue your investigation as you see fit, so long as you don’t outright antagonize her. We don’t want to risk driving her off, if these skills your glimpsing are as strong as your intuition tells you they are. She could still be a great asset if she’s truly on our side. Keep an eye on her, try to figure out at least if her intentions align with our own or run against them.”

“And you?” Levi asked suspiciously, looking to see if that gambling air about Erwin was tipping over into the dangerous side of things.

Erwin hummed. “I’ll do some digging of my own, see what I can find. Of course, if you can’t find anything concrete by the next expedition, going beyond the walls will allow you to get not only a stronger grasp on the skills she’s bringing to the table, but will help with figuring out her general intentions.”

“I don’t like the thought of having to babysit while we’re out there,” Levi returned flatly. Expeditions were far too unpredictable as they were without adding a mysterious woman of unknown capabilities and intentions along for the ride with the task to keep a sharp eye on her and evaluate her every move.

“Then perhaps you’ll want to find out if you can trust her out there or not, first. I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition,” Erwin said with a pointed look. Levi could already tell this mess might get a little ugly, but at the very least, knowing he could trust her not to turn and kill someone on the expedition would go a long way in making his job digging into her background a lot easier.

After Levi gave a nod of confirmation, Erwin continued. “In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s placed in the formation so that she’s within your sight at all times. Considering the rumors you’ve stirred up that you might be looking to recruit her to your squad, it would only make sense for you to be watching her out in the field to see how she does. It’s also a nice excuse for you to make a few more direct inquiries to L/N, herself. You’ve done plenty of work in the background, I think it’s safe to say you can start approaching her as well. Subtly, of course.”

“After she shook me last night, she might already be on edge,” Levi pointed out. She had to have known someone followed her. There were no guarantees that she knew it was Levi, and he didn’t think she’d had the chance to confirm who was following her any more than he’d had a chance to confirm if he was following her.

“Then be careful about it. But whenever you come to a decision about whether she’s a danger or not, I want to know. This will go a lot smoother and faster if we’re sharing information.”

“I’m not stupid, Erwin,” Levi said with a long-suffering sigh, straightening up. “Anything else?”

Erwin’s lips twitched upwards towards a smile, his hands moving to a drawer to pull out some paper and ink. “Have fun making a new friend.”

Levi scowled again, turning to leave after it was clear Erwin was ready to move on to the next thing. He was a little worried about this task to test L/N’s intentions to help the scouts before going out into the field, especially because he knew that look of Erwin’s meant he would set it up and Levi would simply have to observe.

But, he did have his own ways of testing her out as a person, and some people he could get to help without having to inform them of everything behind it. He was already observing her from a distance and could safely continue to do so. With the rumors going around he was looking to take her in under his wing, he could use that to his advantage to ask a few questions and approach her at the right times.

Yet, despite the fact he knew he would have help in prodding at her to see a bit more of what she was made of, he couldn’t help but notice that his sense of unease that had been tickling in the back of his mind was not shrinking. If anything, it only seemed more prevalent. As long as he continued to have this feeling of unease about her, he wasn’t going to let the matter rest. He was going to figure out what she was hiding, if only so he could assuage or confirm his suspicions before they grew wildly out of control.

At least it seemed Erwin shared his concern, confirming it wasn’t all in his head, and there was cause to worry. He only hoped they could figure out what was going on here before they had to spring the trap, as Erwin had suggested.

Levi shook his head. He could worry about that, later. First, he had a recruit to get a feel of before they went outside the walls, and he had to make sure he didn’t spook her while learning what made her tick.

Thankfully, he already had a pretty good idea where to find her in her down time, with all the work she’d been putting in to fix the one glaring flaw in her ability to go outside the walls.

The stables.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs

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rk1kheadcanons · 4 years ago

Note

smol hc: Being the only RK models, CyberLife used some of Markus's base code in Connor's program. Emotions & empathy for social integration, and also some caretaking protocols in case emergency repairs/first aid are needed on the job (IE reactivating the Traci at the Eden Club, or diagnosing & "treating" Hank's ethylic coma LOL). I love the idea of Con getting to take care of Markus for once if he gets injured doing Rebel Leader Things™

🥺 Anon. I love this HC so much. Connor having some caretaker protocols is...yes. Absolutely. The jury is out and they find the defendant correct.

___

When Markus limped into his office, practically hopping on one foot every other step, all he wanted to do was bulldoze through his paperwork so he could go home and forget today ever happened. He’d taken a pretty hard hit earlier when a counter protester at their rally thought it was just a capital idea to hurl a brick into the crowd. Much more surprising than the sudden brick to the knee, though, was the (almost terrifying in it’s rapidness) reaction from the crowd. The guy was immediately apprehended and cursed out by human supporters and androids alike. It was wild. His bodyguards barely had to do any work. Markus swore he heard a human yell that thirium shots were on them after this, amidst a chorus of responding cheers. Nothing brings people together like a communal ass whoopin’? Apparently??

God he really hoped that human didn’t drink any thirium. Markus still had nightmares about Leo accidentally mixing up his blue raspberry jello shot with his drink, nevermind the fact that thirium consumables smelled like laundry detergent and poison as purposeful deterrents.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go see the technician?” said Simon who, as his designated babysitter while North and Josh handled the fallout of the rally, followed into his office after him.

“Naaahh,” Markus drawled, waving the hand that was grasping a pen as if he could wave away the problem altogether. Not for the first time he wished the government would catch up with the rest of the world and just go paperless. Reading over and signing these tedious documents would be a lot less painful to do if they would just let him download it into his mind like a sensible person would. “I barely feel it, plus my Regenerative Program has already kicked in. By the time I get to the med bay it’ll probably be all fixed.”

“Uh huh,” Simon unconvinced at him. “How long till you’re repaired.”

Markus pulled up the damage report in his HUD. “About six…” he stared at the readings for a moment longer and, much to Simon’s chagrin, went back to doing his paperwork.

“...six what?”

“Bahhh,” Markus waved his hand again unhelpfully. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to make this sound better. Hopefully, his innate charm would cover for his trash convincing. “Ya know…”

“No. I do not know. What is it? Six minutes?”

Markus grunted.

“Hours!?”

Markus slumped lower in his chair. “Mmmhumph.”

“....Markus,” Simon started in a low warning voice. “If it’s days so help me I’m going to take out your other knee - ”

The door slammed open, startling Simon out of his threat, which was definitely about to escalate to more than Markus’ other knee once he found out it was six weeks.

“Connor!”

“Good morning Simon,” Connor greeted briskly, expression stormy as he made a beeline for Markus like the man possesses on a mission that he usually was. He was swinging a rather large, rather ominous looking tool box with a red medical cross painted on it. Markus didn’t even stop doing his paperwork. He knew the drill by now. “I heard about what happened and came as fast as I could.”

“Wow, the news has only been out for an hou - wait. Weren’t you in Ohio?”

“Yes. I would have been here sooner but traffic was heavier than usual and the family driving the Escalade was surprisingly insistent on going the speed limit. A majority of police officers won't cite drivers for going between 1-5 miles per hour over,” Connor rolled his eyes and scoffed, like he didn’t follow some laws down to the letter while blatantly disregarding others at any given time.

“Wha - did you hitchhike all the way here!?”

“Oh no of course not! There is a 46% chance of violent or criminal conduct committed against people who hitchhike.”

“Then how - ”

“I was sitting on top of the aforementioned Escalade.”

Markus gave him his best ‘why are you like this’ stare while Simon gaped in perplexion. “You didn’t need to car surf just to come all the way down here, hon.”

“After hearing about the state you were in, with all my love in the world I violently disagree.”

Markus sighed like a man whose knee wasn’t sparking and twitching at this very moment. And...hm. Maybe it did ache. A teeny bit. Whatever. He was still of the opinion that rubbing some dirt on it and a little stretching was enough to get him through the rest of the day.

“Well, maybe you can help me convince him to go to the technician,” said Simon.

“No need.” Without preamble, Connor plopped the heavy med(?) box on the floor and gently lifted Markus’ leg, hiking up his pants up to the thigh. As he examined it, intense as any jeweler examining a rare diamond, he hooked the back of a nearby stool with his foot and pulled it over, resting the leg on it. Markus neither struggled nor visually reacted; just kept stringently doing his paperwork like nothing was going on.

When Connor pulled out a collapsible creeper seat and rolled under Markus’ leg as if he were a mechanic working on a car, Simon went from passive observer to concernedly going around the desk to see what all the RK800 was doing.

“H-hey wait a second! Connor - it’s a pretty serious wound, maybe we should let the professionals handle it!”

Connor rolled slightly from under Markus with a large drill in his hand and an unimpressed look on his face. Surprisingly, Simon was not reassured by this in the slightest. “I assure you Simon that I am fully equipped with the latest caretaking protocols now could you please pass me that monkey wrench.”

“What seriously- UHH! I mean...” Realizing how insulting that sounded, Simon hurried to hand Connor the tool, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize you had such uh...versatile programing.”

“It’s the same base code used in mine, actually,” Markus added, using his free hand to pat Connor’s soothingly when he heard him grumbling things like “I can do more than kill things” and “No one has been irreparably maimed in my Knitting Circle”. Damn right honey, Markus thought, Greta and Patrica have had nothing but nice things to say about you’re wool socks.

“Oh riiiiiight. You two are from the same model line, I…” Markus could practically Jedi Sense Simon about to say ‘I forget that sometimes’, so he looked up at the PL600 and shook his head firmly with glaring eyes. Simon, sheepish, held up his hands placatingly and held his tongue.

“The code...has been streamlined to cater more towards field and emergency repairs,” Connor admitted reluctantly, but then quickly added, “but combined with my own personal research outside of my programming, it is no less effective.”

Eager to keep his foot out of his mouth, Simon merely nodded in agreement. He couldn’t, however, keep the growing alarm showing from his face as Connor pulled more and more absurd tools out of his box (the electric saw was particularly disconcerting), and started contorting around Markus so that he wasn’t interfering with his work in ways that at first, seemed normal, but were steadily becoming more on par with a cirque du soleil act. That alarm changed into bewilderment when he tilted Markus’ chair back, put a car jack under his desk so that it tilted forward at the perfect writing level, put a pillow behind his head and a fizzy thirium drink (complete with a fun crazy straw) in his mouth. His standard office setup now suddenly a mini spa.

When Connor started working a polisher to his knee Markus practically melted back into the chair. Oh that sneaky bastard. He knew Markus wouldn’t be able to get anything done by administering the android equivalent of a deep tissue massage.

Bewilderment now firmly settled on amusement, and thoroughly reassured that his friend/boss was in good hands, Simon started to take his leave. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it Connor. If you need back up to make sure this guy takes it easy we’re all on stand by.”

Connor nodded. “I will escort him home for further recuperation as soon as I have finalized his repairs.”

Markus, eyes closed as he happily sipped at his Particle-Colada, grunted in response to Simon’s farewell. He was a little annoyed that everyone was treating him like a toddler over his small injury, and a little more annoyed that Simon had felt the need to hover around Connor, as if he were bracing for the RK800 to do something violent, before trusting his good intentions. Granted, Markus (begrudgingly) could admit that Connor’s methods certainly weren’t...standard caretaker protocols, and that his bedside manner was well...much like the android himself; aggressive, confusing, and, most importantly, well-meaning.

“‘Can’t go home,” Markus murmured around his straw, very convincingly and not at all like he was about to ascend to a higher plane. “Still got work to do.”

“Hmm. Do you now?” With a fond, humoring, smile, Connor cranked up the power on the polisher. Markus swore his soul was straight vibin’.

Yea, actually. Maybe work could wait till tomorrow.

#Detroit Become Human #Markus/Connor #RK1000 #conkus #emiliaf25 ask reply #RK1K #Dr. Connor Medicine Woman #Connor and Markus both have caretaker protocols

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concealeddarkness13 · 4 years ago

Text

WHG 15 Post-Games Imposter Syndrome Part 17

Two days after part 16! Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes (also thanks for Indigo!), @pen-of-roses, @thoughts-of-nora, @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Hugo!)!

Two days after the encounter with the Bystander, and Churi had been trying so hard to break me. Torturing me and trying to hurt me with his words. He was finding it was harder than he thought it would be to break me. Oh darn.

I was sleeping since it had been a late night with scoping out the Capitol again and trying to fall asleep. My back and arms were throbbing from the healed wounds. And of course, there was a knock on my door.

I rolled over and covered my face with a pillow. Not in the mood, damn it. “Fuck off.”

“Good morning to you too.” Oh great. It was the bastard scientist. “Are you dressed?”

I was, but I wouldn’t let her know that. “Shiiiit. One second.” I jumped up and grabbed my collapsible hat. I needed it today. I opened the door with my wide hat on and grinning brilliantly. “What can I do for you on this fine day?”

She did glance at the hat first. Ha. But then she looked back at me. “Just stopping by to see how you were doing.”

“Sure you were. Are you going to ask about my eating habits again? Or have we graduated to my sleeping habits?” I stepped aside to let her in, however. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice.

She took a seat on the chair in there. “Alright, that wasn’t my main purpose today. Though I do like to keep an eye on how Churi treats his captives.”

“Well, if you’re interested, my sleeping habits would be better if I wasn’t woken up at 6 in the morning. Just saying.” I leaned against the door as it closed. I wasn’t going to sit down.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She reached into her pocket and took out a phone I recognized. Shine had worked so hard on that. A decoy phone that would flash so brightly that it would temporarily blind whoever tried to unlock it. It was cracked. “You know, I ran into someone the other day.”

I stiffened. What the hell had she done? “Huh. And by that, I assume you mean you went and visited Churi’s prison?”

“I try and avoid that place honestly.” She turned the phone over in her hand. “I ran into them snooping through some files.” Bullshit. “Now that I’ve met them I have to admit I underestimated them since they put up a good fight.”

I snorted, clinging to the fact that she was lying. “Sure. What are you trying to do? Give me hope? I think that’s the opposite of what the Capitol wants.”

She shrugged and set the phone on the table. “I just thought it would be polite to tell you they didn’t make it. Churi didn’t see the need to tell you but you have a right to know.”

No.

I sucked in a breath, and my fist flew on its own, right into the smug bastard’s face. My hat fell off as I pounced on her to knock her to the ground as tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. “I’ll kill you!”

The coward yelped and covered her face as I punched her repeatedly, barely even finding satisfaction in how my fist connected. I was actually crying now, and my voice cracked. “I’ll kill you! What did you do?”

She tried to crawl away, but I just grabbed her shirt and slammed her up against the wall. I glared as I started shaking. Shine…Shine was… “You think I’d let you get away so easily?” I growled.

She was bleeding, but I didn’t even think about my magic. She wasn’t even trying to struggle. “Stop.”

Hell no. I tightened my grip as Shine lying curled up on the floor as they bled out flashed through my mind. “Like you had any mercy on Shine?” A sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. Shine… My grip loosened a little. They…they were gone. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears fell hot down my cheeks. “You…you…they’re gone.”

She tried to struggle, but she was too weak. Good. But before I could punch her again, or do anything smart, Peacekeepers kicked down the door to my room and pulled me off of her. I struggled, but it was no use. I wouldn’t be able to actually follow through on my promise. I went limp as they held me. They won. I couldn’t let her touch anyone else on my crew. “You…you can tell Churi that I give in. I’ll cooperate with the Capitol when they show me off on TV.”

After a lot of crying and more crying, I finally decided to get up and do something. I had only promised to cooperate on TV. I hadn’t said anything about any other time. And I could steal something from Aurora Dewpoint, an associate of Indigo’s, that would make Indigo sweat. But, I’d like to have a companion with me. And who better than Hugo?

I cracked open his door. “Psst. Hugo! You awake?”

He sat up quickly. “No. Triel? Is that you?”

“No. I’m the dream version of Triel, here to make your wildest dreams come true.” I trotted over to his bed with a grin. “Would you want to go on a stealing heist with me?”

He relaxed. “Oh, hell, yeah.” He worked his way out of the covers, his movements stiff. Shit. What had they been doing to him? “Who are we robbing this time?”

I grinned wider. I had missed him so much. It was a good distraction. “An associate of a bastard scientist who needs to see some of her important shit get burned. I know how to sneak into the associate’s house, and you can steal whatever you want while I find what I’m looking for.”

“Finally, some proper trespassing. Lead the way.”

I did, going back to my room and opening the window, since the locks were still broken. I jumped out into the night and made my way to Aurora Dewpoint’s house. There were plenty of windows to act as handholds to get to the roof, so I scrambled up there to get to a ventilation shaft.

I nodded over at Hugo. “Meet in an hour if you want to split up.” I didn’t give him a chance to really respond. I just wanted to grab the vial of Aurora’s son’s hair that she had kept after hiring Indigo to get rid of him.

The room that probably had the vial was near the kitchen, so I slipped in there from the shaft, absentmindedly grabbed a fruit from a bowl, and walked over to the room. I glanced back and smiled a little when I saw Hugo snooping around close. It was nice to know someone was on my side. I snooped around in the room, found the vial, and headed out after snagging a candle and some matches. It wasn’t a lot of hair. I scrambled back out with Hugo close behind me, and when we got far enough away from the house, Hugo spoke up. “You got what you were looking for?”

I nodded and held up the vial. “Yeah, I did! And we’re gonna go burn it.”

“Arson. Spicy. I’m on board. Where are we going?”

“A secluded place.” I pulled out my phone. “And once I start videoing, don’t speak and don’t get in view of the camera. I’m not incriminating you with me.”

“What more are they gonna do to me?” He scoffed, but I decided not to comment. “Alright. Fine. As long as I don’t have to go back right away.”

I grinned. “Of course not! I like your company.” I found an empty alley and pulled out the candle and matches. “Yeah, it won’t be much of a show.”

“I got this important-looking document if you wanna burn it, too, just for background lighting or whatever. I wasn’t gonna do anything with it. Unless you think a solo piece works best.” He leaned against a wall and offered the document.

I grinned. Brilliant! “Sure!” I took the paper and lit the candle. I turned the camera toward me and took a bite of the fruit I had stolen. Grin. “You were asking about my eating habits, so I hope this satisfies you. I’ve been busy tonight and I happened to run across this.” I held up the vial with the code facing the camera, and the document. “This seems to be from Ms. Aurora Dewpoint, and it seems to be the hair of her son, Skyler Dewpoint, who didn’t die but is in fact alive and well despite the aforementioned woman’s best efforts. Yes, Aurora Dewpoint sold her only son, Skyler Dewpoint, to Umbra Ursi, run by Dr. Indigo Carmine, for Ms. Carmine to get rid of. Which she failed to do. And it would be a shame if this was sent to all the important people in Panem, now wouldn’t it? Unfortunate indeed.” I opened the vial and burned the hair in the candle, along with the document as the words faced the camera. “And I’m guessing that was important, wasn’t it? Ms. Aurora Dewpoint wouldn’t keep it otherwise. Certainly not for sentimental reasons. Well, I hope this finds you well, Ms. Carmine. Go fuck yourself.” I gave her a beautiful middle finger and then cut off the video.

Hugo grinned in the background and spoke once I was done. “You got a real way with words, hat lady.”

I grinned back at him and blew out the candle. “Thanks!”

And of course, a voice just had to yell at us right after that. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Steve? From training? I tossed the candle and matches farther down the alley before turning to Steve with a radiant smile. Fake fear dripped through my voice. “Oh, Steve, you found us! We were so lost. It’s fortunate we ran into you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the other Peacekeeper who led us out here was just trying to get in trouble.” Hugo faked nervousness. Nice.

“And then he just left us. The rude man. He should be reported.”

Steve just stared at us before he stuttered a little. “You—you’re supposed to be dead!”

“And you’re supposed to be the head of the Counterintelligence Department.” Hugo actually sounded pleasant, like it was a compliment. “But life ain’t fair and nobody’s perfect, so here we are.” I had to suppress a snort of laughter.

Steve just spluttered some more. “I—I have to take you in for questioning!”

I shrugged. Fine. Whatever. “We have nothing to hide. Be my guest.” I hadn’t broken any rules. Ha. And I wouldn’t let them say Hugo had either. As Steve led us away, Hugo gave me a look of confidence, and I grinned back at him.

Steve took us to a Peacekeeper building and put us in a bare room with mirrors on all the walls. He stared at us a little bit, opening his mouth a few times before he spoke. “I’ll be back.” And he left.

I winked over at Hugo. “Thanks. Let’s screw with him some more.” I pulled out my collapsible hat, which I had been smart enough to bring, and uncollapsed it. I took my mom’s necklace out first, just in case Steve decided to take the hat, and put it around my neck, hidden under my shirt. I grinned. “And let’s have some fun.” Hugo didn’t say anything, but he smiled the perfect evil smile.

When he came back in, Steve looked a little put together, but then he froze and stared between us. He stuttered again. “So—so what were you two doing out there when you were supposed to stay in your rooms?”

I sighed. “You sound just like my mother.” Question: was I referring to the fact that I didn’t have a mother or to Volt, who was like a mother to me now? I didn’t even know. “But we told you. A Peacekeeper dragged us out there and just left us. You should be questioning him instead.”

“Then you could play good cop, bad cop together instead of, y’know, letting yourself be outnumbered. By two completely innocent zombies who were just following directions.” Hugo sounded completely innocent. Beautiful.

He looked hopelessly lost. “You—no one was sent to take you anywhere. You’re lying…” He trailed off, so that meant he didn’t really believe that. Ha.

I went for the kill. I batted my eyes at him, and he gulped. “Would we ever lie to you?”

“Yeah. C’mon, buddy. We go way back,” Hugo chimed in. “Name one time we’ve led you astray, eh? You can’t.”

He flushed at that. Probably remembering a certain training day with a certain lady pretending she didn’t know how to use any weapons. Wasn’t me, though. “You—I…”

I sauntered forward and took his hand, looking up at him all innocent. “Find the person who’s really responsible for this, won’t you Mr. Peacekeeper, sir?”

“You wouldn’t let injustice go undone on your watch, would you?” Hugo delivered the finishing blow, putting his hands together under his chin to look like a disconcerting, pleading, too-old-to-be-a-child human.

Steve took one glance at me after his eyes skirted away from Hugo, and he flushed. Poor fellow. This was too easy. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t say anything, and the door opened to save him. Churi. Of course.

But he also look dumbfounded, so ha. He frowned. “Why would you throw all your promises away for an outing that has no gain for you?”

Middle finger. C’mon, that was just an instinct now whenever I saw him. “Actually, I’ve followed my one promise to the letter. As best I can before the Capitol even shows me off on TV. I only agreed to be cooperative on TV.”

The good thing was that Churi was only paying attention to me. His lips thinned, and his eyes burned with anger, and he started to say something, but he stopped himself and thought. “Actually, you’re right. And I should have seen you pulling a loophole like that. I will not let that happen again.” His eyes landed on the necklace, and he smirked. “I’m glad you still have that lost memento of your past.”

I clenched my jaw for a little bit before I could bite out any words through a smile. “Since we didn’t break any rules, surely there can’t be a punishment. Escort us back with the stern talking-to you’re planning.”

Churi nodded and started walking, and I looked back at Hugo with a wink and a grin. “Thanks for being here! It was fun!” I whispered.

“Yeah! I’m glad it worked out, more or less.” He gave me a thumbs up back. It was awesome to have someone on my side.

Once we got back to the apartment, but before he could lock me up again, I looked over at him with an innocent smile. “Do you happen to have Indigo Carmine’s phone number? I’d like to thank her for today.” Banking on the fact that he probably didn’t like her too.

A smile crept across his lips, and he wrote down a number. “Thank her as much as you would like.”

I grinned and snagged it before slamming the door to my room in his face. I would send the video tomorrow morning.

#writeblr hunger games #writeblr

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timextoxhajima · 5 years ago

Audio

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: j u y e o n

Genre: drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

A/N: I’m investing way too much feelings and emotions into this i might cry when it ends. this chapter is more serious i guess i can’t be writing angst and smut every chapter LOL

Link to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

“i’m playing with fire.”

all you wanted to do was have breakfast, but you walk out along the hallways of the second floor only to watch an entire crowd of staff members push and pull countless of racks across the living room.

the female staff member who recognised you from the previous week notices you standing awkwardly behind the wall, struggling to process the crowd at the foot of the stairs.

you watch her say something to another staff member, before she strolls across the living room and heads up the stairs to greet you.

“i’m going to hope you don’t have any clothes of your own,” she smiles at you, eyes flitting to your neck for a split second and looks at your bare legs.

“uh--” you stumble on your tongue, having trouble finding any words to say. you completely forget about the marks on your neck, and you were only in his underwear with the large pullover barely covering your rear.

“i’m gonna get you a robe while you choose your clothes for today and i’ll run you a bath before you have breakfast.”

you watch as she walks away into the bathroom, and again, you wonder why it was so difficult to think of anything to say. you had expected the house staff to be judging you for sleeping with him, but they all seemed so nice and candid, it was a little difficult to believe.

you just couldn’t get the idea of juyeon being such a kind, relaxed boss out of your head.

she returns from the bathroom with a robe, the water now running and a rose scent begins to waft through your nose. “here,” she hands you the robe and waits for you to put it on.

“mr lee wanted you to pick out as many clothes as you wanted, and he wants you to know not to worry about the price.”

you reach the bottom of the stairs with her standing right next to you, and you see at least three racks of clothes surrounding the living room. there were at least two full-body mirrors next to the sofas, and a separate mobile shelf with shoes.

“uh... do i have to? where are my clothes from yesterday?” your hand unconsciously reaches up to your neck to cover your skin.

“in the laundry! we’ll get it steamed and ready for you by lunch, but right now, he’s told us he wants to see you in something from any of these racks. he didn’t exactly give us much choice either,” she gives you a look that comforts you, gently patting your arm to encourage you.

you choose out exactly five different sets of clothes, which included shoes. you suddenly feel like you went on a splurge and your credit card would’ve exceeded by now, judging by the brands the clothes were from.

you soak yourself in the bathtub, the light from behind you illuminating the white, black and golden surfaces. you couldn’t help but to let your head replay the memories from the night before as the rose scent pulls all the knots in your body apart.

it felt like you were on vacation, when you were really just... feeding off your boyfriend’s wealth. you felt guilty, and frankly, a little worried that people were going to start thinking you were with him for his money.

you haven’t done anything for him besides curse at him, take the credit for his workings for the case and sleep in his bed.

you shake your thoughts away, deciding that it was time for you to get your due breakfast before working on the case.

you were pushing the last few bites of the strange looking pudding around in the bowl, and the female staff from before was in the dining room with you, arranging the cutlery and utensils away from sight.

“hey, uh--” you call out, looking at her while mrs jung comes out of the kitchen. you wonder why it took you three meals before you notice that you could see into the kitchen. the dining table was right next to a black counter where mrs jung would leave the food right after it was prepared, and the kitchen itself looked extravagant.

“you called?” the female staff lays down the plate and walks over to your side.

“yeah, uh...” you scratch your temple, slightly pulling on the turtleneck you chose to hide the bruises he left. “you don’t-- happen to think that... i’m with mr lee for his money... do you?”

the female staff blinks in surprise at you, and before she could respond, mrs jung does the honor.

“oh, my dear, definitely not! you’d be surprised at how good juyeon-nim is at picking out who’s genuine and who isn’t.” you turn and watch mrs jung carry some leftover food back into the kitchen.

“we were very surprised when he asked you to stay last friday, past the time where the house staff gets off work. he doesn’t like guests over, unless they are his parents... so it was nice to see him bring someone back.”

you let a small laugh escape your lips, feeling the blood rush up to your ears and cheek.

hold on.

‘someone’?

“you mean he’s never brought anybody home before?”

“not willingly, no.” mrs jung responds from the kitchen. “juyeon-nim is only friendly to people he trusts and even then he’s extremely cautious, though sometimes a little dense... but now that we know how comfortable he is with you, and we’re all just happy for him.”

you feel a second wave of embarrassment wash over you, your hand now wrapping around your own neck and pulling up the material to hide any possible marks that were peeking out from under.

“you don’t have to hide those as long as you’re here. everybody knows what happened,” the female staff member teases you, clearing the plates that you literally licked the crumbs off from before.

“awh... nooooo,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

the staff member laughs at your embarrassment, encouraging you to finish your dessert before she tells you where his office was.

you get the door open, and the first thing you notice was the similar L-shaped glass windows like his bedroom had. the desk sat on the right side, with a main leather seat back facing a large shelf. the levels were alternated between files and small, expensive-looking statues and souvenirs.

right before the glass panels were two single-seaters with a small coffee table between them, and your eyes took awhile to notice the little fridge under the table.

you log into the computer with ease, surprised that there wasn’t a password required. you remember mrs jung saying that he doesn’t have anybody over, and you figure that nobody else has been in his office anyway. the worry about someone hacking into his files was non-existent.

your suitcase was already placed by the table, and you wonder when did it get here. did he leave it in here last night? this morning? or did he get a staff member to do it?

the online system was perfectly synced with the system you had in the office, and all you needed to do was log in with your information before your case displays itself on the screen.

you get to work almost immediately, every now and then looking past the computer screen to look out the large glass windows.

the clouds were so fluffy against the bright blue sky today, and you couldn’t help but imagine chanhee, eric and sunwoo’s reactions when they notice you didn’t clock in today.

oh. chanhee, eric and sunwoo.

you reach over to your suitcase and pull out your cellphone, noticing the nearly ten missed calls you got from them starting about five minutes before the supposed reporting time.

chanhee: where the hell are you? its 7.55am!

eric: did she oversleep

chanhee: she doesn’t oversleep

sunwoo: not with that annoying ass alarm she’s got

you smile to yourself, unable to contain your happiness as you scroll down.

chanhee: why do we have to hear about your absence from our manager?

sunwoo: wait

eric: OH MY GOD

sunwoo: mf WAIT

eric: DID THE BOSS TELL OUR MANAGER THAT YOU WEREN’T COMING IN TODAY

sunwoo: DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM AGAIN

chanhee: but he’s in office!

sunwoo: so? he could’ve just left her at home and came to work to reduce suspicion cause it’ll too obvious if the both of them are absent

eric: unless...

sunwoo: i’m betting on that and OTHER REASONS

eric: i was thinking about other reasons

chanhee: whatever the reason, call us during our lunch break!

eric: yeah we want details

sunwoo: fucking disgusting

you snort to yourself, ready to keep your phone away and finish up the case.

but the aggressive vibration from your phone stops you just as you laid it down, and you sigh heavily when you see the caller ID.

“yello,” you put the phone down on the table, keeping it on loudspeaker.

“why do you sound so glum? i return from a two month trip and this is how you greet me?”

you roll your eyes, laying your hands right at the keyboard. “hi mom, how was your trip to san francisco?”

“oh, it was gorgeous!” she says with a strange accent. must’ve been the american air for two months. “i was pretty sad to leave, but nothing can stop me from coming back to see you!”

“when have you ever needed to see me?” your tone was unenthusiastic, and you resist the urge to hang up altogether.

“aw, no, honey,” she whines. “are you still mad about last year?”

“just so you know, i’m gonna stay mad for quite a bit, so don’t expect anything different.”

“aw, but you did say you wanted swavroski--”

“yeah, a swavroski ring! not the damn brand!” you huff, burying your face into your hands. your eyes were on the screen, staring at the case document, but all you could hear was the heavy breathing over the phone.

“i take it that you haven’t signed the contract to claim ownership of the brand.”

“of course i didn’t! i left home so i could build a life for myself. you promised me that you’d leave me and my finances and my life alone. you know i don’t want you or dad’s help but you go ahead and buy a whole jewellery brand?!”

silence.

“i’m never signing that contract, just so you know. it’s been sitting at home since you had it mailed to me while you ran off to canada.”

“are you still living in that tiny flat by the lake outside of town?”

you pick up a pinch of contempt in her voice. “yeah, what’s so bad about my 'tiny flat’?”

“nothing,” liar. “i just want you to have the best we can afford.”

“again with the ‘we’. how many times do i have to tell you that i don’t want you or dad’s help?”

“but--”

“no,” you snap into the phone, picking it up and hovering your thumb over the hang up button. “i’m gonna go now because i have work to do. don’t call me unless it’s to tell me that someone else already owns swavroski.”

you finally hang up and you throw the phone back into your suitcase, hands on your forehead as you return your attention to the screen.

needed me? what a load of bullcrap.

maybe if she didn’t treat you like some kind of trophy when you were younger, you’d believe that she genuinely loved you.

you were called to lunch when the sun was at its highest, the blinding rays bouncing off windows and the metal from buildings that it heated up the room like a toaster.

mrs jung’s food never fails to deliver, and the female staff from before struggles to tuck your napkin into your clothes so that the gravy doesn’t fly about.

you were mindlessly praising the hell out of mrs jung’s pasta when you hear a staff outside the dining room shout. you turn at the sound of the doors swinging open, and you find yourself standing immediately at the sight of a lady who looked like a million bucks.

“what do you mean he’s in offic--” the lady finally turns her attention from the staff outside the dining room and to you. “and... who are you?”

so much for that lunch phone call to your friends.

you find yourself sitting awkwardly opposite her, carefully watching as she swirls the wine in her glass. you feel her eyes pierce right through you, and your hands reach up to your turtleneck in a bid to pull it upwards.

“there’s no need to hide,” she nearly scolds you, and the harsh tone strikes a chord in you. “i know who you are.”

what?

“you’re the reason why my son’s fiance is in shambles right now.”

his what--

“i’m sorry, who?” you squint your eyes at her, for a split second forgetting that she was the mother of your now-boyfriend.

“he didn’t tell you?” she offers a smile of disbelief. “and here i was thinking he changed for the better.”

“’for the better’? he wanted to leave the country to do charity work, not run away.”

“he was running away from the responsibilities he was born to shoulder. we do enough charity for him to stay,” she leans forward on the table, one palm pressed flat on the surface.

“but he didn’t even want the damn law fi--”

“mother!”

the both of you turn to the door of the dining room. every staff member within your line of vision looked like they were scared shitless, which was a strange sight, considering how relaxed and candid they were in the absence of this... crazy lady.

who might be my mother-in-law? ugh.

“you should’ve told me you’re visiting,” juyeon walks in the doors and the staff members shut them behind him. he grabs a seat next to you, and it visibly stuns his mother.

“i wouldn’t have bothered if i knew you weren’t even at home,” she watches in slight disgust as juyeon leans into your face and plants a kiss on your cheek. your eyes widen and your heart feels extremely heavy. “care to explain what is going on?”

juyeon carefully sits his suitcase next to his chair as the kitchen staff serves him a glass of wine. you remember the only food that was prepared was only for you and the staff members.

“what’s there to explain? i never said i agreed to marry anybody i was told to.”

you watch anxiously, eyes switching between juyeon, who was calmly sipping on his wine, and his mother, who was so angry that you could almost see the steam escaping from her ears...

“and so you run off and sleep with some random girl?”

ouch.

“will she still be ‘some random girl’ if you knew what she was capable of? she’s closed more cases in six months than i did in a year, mother.”

“i didn’t think a lawyer would let someone leave such savage marks all over her body like this!” she berates you, hand carelessly gesturing to all of you.

“which year did you walk through a portal from? it’s not the 1800s, mother.”

wow, so she blames me and not the one who made these marks?

“girls nowadays.”

you could feel juyeon’s frustration hit the roof, and the atmosphere in the dining hall gets heavier as each second passes in silence.

“what are you here for, anyway? just to ask me about me dumping my fiance who i never even loved? i don’t even like her face, mother. she’s an incapable princess who does nothing but sit around and gets waited on.”

“forget about that, you’ve gone ahead and spent your weekend breaking off the engagement anyway,” his mother glares at the two of you.

didn’t he spend his weekend with his family--

“but i do want to know why you’re back in the office.”

juyeon locks his jaw in odd angles, and if you didn’t know it was his mother who was pissing him off, you would’ve thought he was going to throw a punch across the table.

“what do you mean ‘why i’m back in the office’? doing my job and accepting my responsibilities like you wanted to!”

“and you didn’t have the decency to at least inform us? we were ready to re-sell it to the bureau director!”

juyeon sucks in a deep breath and stands up, eyes tightly shut as you watch him collect his feelings. his mother remains relaxed in the seat opposite you, arms tightly crossed over her chest but her face still brimming with anger and dissatisfaction.

“okay,” he leans downwards, pressing his palms flat against the surface of the table. “if you’re so upset then i assume a contract has already been drawn up, yes?”

his mother doesn’t respond.

“alright, i’ll contact the bureau director and i’ll explain the situation. it’s you the bureau director has a problem with, anyway. it’ll be easy for me.”

your face was turned to juyeon, but your eyes couldn’t resist the temptation to look at his mother. she had just been outspoken by her son, and you felt so proud of him for standing up for himself.

his mother finishes the win, visibly angry. she gets up and leaves the dining hall, and when you hear the lift ‘ding’ followed by the sound of its gears shutting its doors, you heaved a sigh of relief.

the entire room relaxes and begins helping to clear the table. juyeon was the only one who looked like he was about to burst from anger and frustration.

you stand up and wrap your arms around his torso, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

“hey.”

“i’m sorry you had to see that.”

you shake your head, pulling away and hugging his arm instead.

“i’m sorry that i lied about what i did over the weekend, and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i was already engaged.”

you let the pain of the realisation sink in for a moment, before giving him a weak smile. “well, it wasn’t really a lie. you said it was something to do with your family... and besides, you broke off the engagement.” you reach over his chest and find his arm to pull him to face you, looking up at him whose eyes were filled with remorse.

naturally, a shitty feeling swamps you when you lose sight of his prideful, authorial self, so you pull his face down to meet yours and you feel him melt into the kiss.

“do you need to go back to the office?” you let him go, his hands now resting on your waist.

“yeah,” he sighs apologetically. “i only came back because the lobby called to tell me my mother was here.”

“aw,” you grin in attempt to shake off the tension that was still hanging in the air. “nice to know you came back to save me from your mother.”

a smile appears on his lips, and he pulls you in all so suddenly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“maybe i shouldn’t leave my marks so high up your neck next time.”

you sigh with your lips in smile, pressing your head into his chest as he wraps his arms tightly around you.

THE NEXT DAY

your arm was linked tightly with juyeon’s as he walks you up the stairs of the grand hotel, the ends of your gown dragging along the marble surface to the restaurant where he would meet the bureau director.

you couldn’t take your eyes off him, though the simple suit was nothing compared to the dress he had prepared for you within a day’s notice. you reach the restaurant entrance and the lady immediately recognises him, turning to lead you two into the restaurant and in the corner where the private rooms were.

“so just to be clear, ignore your mother and be nice to the bureau director, right?” you giggle as the restaurant staff knocks on the door.

juyeon laughs and pecks you on your temple. “maybe if you ignore her enough, she’ll start wanting your attention.”

you snicker to yourself, watching the door pull open and the light from inside spills out.

you trail behind juyeon and look into the room, and your heart stops in your chest.

the world stops revolving around the sun and your breath hitches in your throat, your grip on juyeon’s arm tightening instantly when you see the two people in the room.

“mother,” juyeon awkwardly starts, only noticing your sudden grip on his arm.

mother.

she looks at you with wide, surprised eyes before they dissipate into a wide smile.

“this is the bureau director, mrs--”

“it’s alright,” she stops juyeon. “i know who she is.”

you gulp and your chest collapses in on itself.

of all people, THIS bureau director just had to be your mother?

Part 6: Bourbon

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #lee juyeon #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #juyeon imagine #juyeon scenario #juyeon fanfic #juyeon

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rachelthompsonauthor · 4 years ago

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What is social proof? It’s a marketing concept that we are all inadvertently, unknowingly contributing to every time we click on, retweet, like, reply or comment, and share any kind of social media, article, or blog post on the net. Technically, social proof, as defined by Sprout Social is:

The concept that people will follow the actions of the masses. The idea is that since so many other people behave in a certain way, it must be the correct behavior.

Social Proof and Me

As an author, social media is a hugely important part of my author platform, as it is for any writer or blogger. This is how we connect with readers now, even before the pandemic. Virtual, online events are now the norm. Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube Live video discussions are the new book signings. Twitter chats are weekly on any number of topics; I have two of my own, in fact, #SexAbuseChat every Tuesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est and #BookMarketingChat every Wednesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est.

All important for visibility, branding, and most importantly, connection.

However…there’s a limit. I reached my limit over the course of this past year. It didn’t come all at once. It came, little by little, reaching a peak this past month or so.

Why? How? Me, the so-called social media expert?

Access. Like many people, I have issues with the incredible level of access Facebook gives people once we friend them without our consent. PMs (private messages) are automatic, now with the ability for people to call, voice, and video message us, with no option to shut these options to OFF unless we unfriend the person (we can, however, mute a specific conversation). Technically, we do give them consent in the legal mumbo jumbo we all agreed to when we joined back in the 2010s.

I am not okay with this. And Facebook doesn’t care. Nobody cares. You’re probably thinking, “Geez, Karen. Shut up, already. Stop your whining, white lady.” I get it. I do. First-world problems.

I counter with: I hear you. It’s also part of my business. A huge part. Here’s why:

As someone who manages over 70+ various social media accounts as part of my BadRedhead Media business, plus my own accounts as well, Facebook requires I have a personal account in order to manage all those other Pages. I do understand why, particularly with all the ridiculousness of the past four years with the abundance of fake accounts, fake news, and such.

As a survivor of sexual abuse and stalking, this is ultra-concerning to me. So, what happened this past month or so? Suffice it to say, one person repeatedly tried calling me. I never pick up Facebook calls, especially if I don’t know you. Another left me a few voice messages saying they were offended by something.

Yet another left me another message in ALL SHOUTY CAPS that she didn’t find what I posted inspirational enough and she expected better from someone who is “supposedly on the side of authors.”

Oh, and there is the one lady who started replying on ALL my posts to the kind people who did comment that she didn’t think I replied often enough or to her satisfaction.

Well. I’ve been criticized before. You should read some of my 1-star reviews. There’s plenty!

But, for whatever reason, this struck a chord. I got up in my feels. I cried. I talked with one of them and we worked it out because we like and respect each other’s work in the mental health space. The others I blocked. It’s darn frustrating to donate hours of my time each week to helping writers solely because I want to, only to be told it’s not enough. Like, seriously? Fuck off.

My blood raged. My heart sank. Understandable, right?

But what really made me angry is that I put myself in that position by being available. I accepted that ‘it is what it is.’ This is what the social media platforms have given us, so that’s what I have to work within.

I’m too available. It’s too easy to leave me shitty messages. This is why people hire people like me – to handle this crap for them! So they don’t have to read these ridiculous criticisms from judgy people who apparently have nothing better to do or are having a bad day.

And I get bad days. It’s a damn pandemic. We’re all struggling. Where’s the damn compassion for one another?

I have a dislike/hate relationship with Facebook anyway, since about ten or so years ago when I discovered that a past love had died by suicide by going to his personal profile and seeing, “RIP dude,” messages there. We had spoken early that day. It still haunts me.

So…what to do? I’m claiming my time. I’m not posting to my personal Facebook profile right now. I’m ignoring it. I am checking my Pages and of course, my client Pages. When I feel like I can face it again, I will cull my ‘friends’ down from *checks real quick* 4385 people to maybe, I don’t know, the few hundred in my groups, many of whom I do know and treasure.

Social Proof and You

If you’re a writer, social proof matters. This is the world we live in. Publishing is not only writing.

You need to be ‘findable,’ not only on Google, but also on each individual social platform, so your readers can learn more about you and hopefully, buy your books. If you go the traditional route, publishers and agents want to know how many followers you have (easily upped by buying fake followers or likes from Fiverr or wherever). I suggest not doing that, because:

1) fake followers don’t buy books

2) it’s usually pretty obvious when you have fake followers because they’re all foreign names, have questionable bios, and no tweets

3) do you really want to start your publishing career with a lie?

They also want to know what you post, how often, and what your branding is. If you’re an indie author, honestly, the same applies. Social proof is about connection, building relationships, and authenticity. I’ve believed that since I started my business and writing career way back in 2011, and I stand by it now. Start slow, grow slow. It’s not a race.

I’m the furthest thing you’ll even find from a conspiracy theorist – I don’t believe in chemtrails, pizza parlor cabals, or that the earth is flat. However, I am a realist. Watch The Social Dilemma sometime. These huge tech companies share our data without our knowledge or consent (Cambridge Analytics, anyone?). Younger generations are so used to this, they don’t really care – ask them.

(My kids think having a chip implanted in their hands with all their data is a fabulous idea. “So much easier than having to talk and repeat everything over and over. Just scan me and be done with it,” says my daughter Anya (21). “Agree,” grunts my son, Lukas (15). Buy stuff, go to the doctor, whatever. Scan and go. Talk with any GenZ kid, you’ll likely get a similar answer. They’ve been tracked since birth everywhere. They don’t know life without a computer, tablet, or phone in their hands.)

Know that whatever we do, it’s all part of each platforms’ AI, and they share data, which is why that darling pair of shoes you just saw on Amazon is now showing up on Google, Facebook, Twitter, and every website you visit going forward. It’s all about the money, and they all get a piece of that affiliate link.

Every bit of every click is recorded, even when you’re watching videos on YouTube, or a subscription service like Netflix, or perusing goods on Amazon. It’s all connected. I’m not shocked or surprised by any of this, are you?

It’s Not Personal

What people say to us and about us is ultimately incredibly revealing about them. We know this, at an intellectual, psychological, and emotional level. Still, when people say mean things, it hurts. We’re human.

Does it matter in the overall scope of our lives? Who can say. It matters at that moment. It can matter when it comes to overall visibility when you’re marketing your book(s) or trying to get that book contract or interview. Only you can say if it matters to you.

Already a longtime fan of THE FOUR AGREEMENTS by Don Miguel Ruiz, I took a moment to reorient myself with this one agreement: Don’t take anything personally. I also stumbled across an excellent short and entertaining TEDTalk by Frederick Imbo. His main message to stop taking things personally is two-fold;

It’s not about me. Look at the other person’s intention and

It IS about me. Give yourself some empathy. Speak up. Ask questions. Pay attention to how you feel and be vulnerable with your needs.

I’m glad I was able to, inadvertently, employ point #2 and work out some issues with one of the people by telling him what he said made me cry. He apologized. I apologized. We talked it through and we’re still friends.

Ultimately, social media is what we contribute to it. What we make it. How much we allow of it into our lives. Social proof is going along with the tide. I’ve been in this space since 2008. Being connected to others is a big part of the work I do to help and support not only other writers, but also other childhood sexual abuse survivors. However, I’ve reached that point. I knew it was coming.

I’m not shutting my doors. I’m just adding a screen. With a strong lock.

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

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charmedseoull · 4 years ago

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Greta Garbo and Uemura Naomi in Imprints (For the Boys in the Back) by Anna(arctic_grey)

I am entirely in love with the writing of this fanfic. This could be called a commentary or an analysis or an essay, but I don’t entirely give a damn about the specifications. Fuck it, this is a love letter, an appreciation, and understanding of Imprints (For the Boys in the Back) by Anna (arctic_grey). I wanted to leave a comment on their works, but a comment would not do justice to the absolute love and adoration I have for their writing. Thus, I chose to do this instead. Enjoy.

This analysis is a part of Charmedseoul’s Slice of Namjin side project, which documents Namjin (Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjin) fanfiction with unique writing styles and complex themes. You can find Imprints and Magnitude’s Fanlore page here.

Disclaimer: This is a 18+ work with adult content such as sexual activity. You are responsible for the content you consume, please be aware of that. This analysis contains spoilers for the work as well.

Here are the trigger warnings the author provides: depression and mental health issues, few brief references to suicidal thoughts, discussions of infidelity, self-destructive behavior, consensual sex under influence.

Imprints (For the Boys in the Back) begins with struggling actor Kim Seokjin and his self-destructive behaviors after a messy breakup. He ends up with a one night stand that grows into something more with Kim Namjoon, a successful producer in South Korea. The story follows Jin’s personal growth and their budding fuck-buddies turned boyfriends relationship.

Now presenting the analysis of the use of historical figures Greta Garbo and Uemura Naomi in Anna(arctic_grey)’s work Imprints (For the Boys in the Back):

In the first chapter of “Imprints (For the Boys in the Back)”, Anna introduces the two historical figures Greta Garbo and Uemura Naomi to reflect the main characters of Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon. They each represent the two main characters’ initial desires and hopes for the future, but as the story progresses these things change. Greta Garbo and Uemura Naomi are Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon’s beginnings. Through their relationship, these two characters change each other and alter the course of their lives. They reject the comfort of Garbo and Naomi for the comfort of each other, definitively defying what they believed in the beginning of the series. The Imprints and Magnitude series offers alternatives to their lives and gives a realistic resolution that is able to resonate with any reader who has felt broken or lost. Imprints and Magnitude hears them.

Greta Garbo: Lavish, glamorous, compelling, and renowned. She was one of the greatest motion picture actors of the 1920s and ‘30s with her subtlety and restraint. Garbo carried an air of sophistication and richness that was insatiably desired by the public.

Greta Garbo is everything Jin wants to be at the beginning: sophisticated, surrounded by wealth, and explicitly independent. However, Jin craves affection and partnership. For him to live a life without a partner after the pain of his past relationship would doom him to misery. Jin is in pain. He is broken, a shattered glass mirror with an empty reflection that needs its pieces picked back up and glued together. He rejects his needs because they’re complicated. He was hurt deeply by someone he trusted. To fix all of that takes so much more than a comforting word or reassuring hug, it takes consistent gentle and attentive attention which many do not care enough to give. Even though he’s told his other friends about his pain, he’s still closed off. He puts up barriers and only Namjoon attempts to break those down with that consistent, gentle and attentive attention. He is the only one whose patience does not run thin. Jin tries so desperately to be like Greta Garbo, completely unbothered by the world and his wants. He isn’t Greta Garbo though. He’s Kim Seokjin. He needs to heal and at the beginning of the story, readers themselves aren’t acutely aware of that.

Uemura Naomi: Ambitious, independent, driven, and well-loved. He was one of the greatest Japanese adventurers as he became the first man to reach some of the Earth’s most remote places alone. Naomi scaled mountains and traveled relentlessly. When he was not adventuring, he was giving public lectures and sharing his warm personality with the world.

In the beginning of Imprints, readers aren’t too aware of who Namjoon is. The story is told from Jin’s point of view where he promptly calls Namjoon an asshole after their first rendezvous. Readers do get to know Namjoon better throughout the story though, catching on small quirks about him that they grow to love. Namjoon is like Uemura Naomi with the goal to do work, in his chosen field, by himself. Namjoon is already successful from the song “Hey Cutie” and grows more successful as he produces more music. He’s content with his success, focusing on it. Jin changes that. Jin enters Namjoon’s life suddenly, broken and confused about love. Namjoon is no savior. He had no intention to change Jin, only adding his own experiences and healing to the conversation. Unlike Jin, who grew resentful and emotionally unstable due to his breakup, Namjoon grew from it as a person. He came to accept what happened and let go of his past relationship. He’s then able to provide Jin a push to grow, diverting from his own path of solo adventures like Uemura Naomi. Namjoon departs from the role he was playing in his life as a mountain man and begins a path with Jin.

Each of these historical figures were known for being alone. Garbo closed herself off from the public and lived her life lavishly without ever marrying. Naomi scaled entire mountains and landscapes by himself, capable of accomplishing solo ventures deemed impossible. Both Namjoon and Seokjin were alone in the beginning of Imprints (For the Boys in the Back), but then they found each other and departed from their associations with these historical figures. They’re not alone anymore. They’re together and meant to be together. They’re healing.

Seokjin and Namjoon are no longer Greta and Uemura. They aren’t these lonely figures who found great success by themselves then died alone. (There is nothing wrong with dying alone by the way.) They’re human and need other people. It’s a startling refreshing take on love and relationships using a set up with historical figures. The message hits all the more with the context behind who these two were.

And that’s why I love it.

Author’s Note:

The Imprints and Magnitude fanfiction series, written by an author who had no intention to ever be documented, analyzed, or a part of this side project is one of my favorite works in both professional and casual literature. It’s an automatic recommendation to any who ask. Its writing style flows easily off the paper, detailed and emotional and incredibly personal. In literature stuffed with attempts to mean something, Imprints and Magnitude attempts no grand pompous message. It’s simple. It excels in its meaning whether intentional or not. I love works like that. I love works that feel intimate with the author’s closest thoughts. I love works where an author bleeds into the words and pages. It absorbs emotions in a raw way that can not be replicated in professional published works often. That is because published works have limitations. They have deadlines and people to make happy with the proper words and formats. Fanfiction doesn’t do that. Fanfiction is free to do what it wants. There are no restraints. It satisfies my intense craving for a work unleashed and unedited by publishers and institutions. It satisfies my intense longing for literature that’s different. I just want one person’s closest and deepest thoughts stitched together with words and phrases and sentences and paragraphs and laid bare for the world. Imprints and Magnitude gives me all of that and a cute love story with a message that sticks to me like gum. This series retaught love, relationships, and letting go to me. I needed that, especially as I continue to grow older. Thank you to the most wonderful Anna for being the one thing I’ve wanted for so long.

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#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #imprints (for the boys in the back)#imprints (for the boys in the back) by anna(arctic_grey)#fanfiction #fanfiction analysis #analysis #ao3

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themissingmarvel · 5 years ago

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Kind Regards, Detective [Part 5] -Prelude to Deepest Sympathies

(I don’t usually trigger warn or content warn, but this might be a triggering chapter. I’m including the Reader’s Drabble I wrote a little while back as recommended reading prior to this, [Drabble 2] but if it’s hard to read about family death then maybe avoid it. This chapter was hard, but important. And I think sets up a truly important dynamic. I’m a slow-burn romantic kind of lady, and I wanted their relationship to be powerful and important, not just one of lust. Or even basic attraction. I needed it to be human. Anyway I liked writing it, and feedback is always appreciated and loved and treasured ((i seriously reread any feedback and comments)) and as always, ask to be tagged or removed from tagging.

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Death, emotional anguish, PTSD flashbacks, language)

Catch up: [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Drabble] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Drabble2]

She didn’t sleep last night, which was no surprise. She had spent much of the night awake and poring over documents and cataloged pieces. Her own theories had been spun and while some might have felt outlandish in her head, she understood that this was an outlandish case. It had been hard enough to put on those headphones and let herself fall into a trance. Remember her sister. But not directly. She remembered remembering. Buying that damn CD she would play over and over. Peter Gabriel was her sister’s favorite, not that she’d ever tell anyone. Neither would. Her sister touted her love for System of a Down and Trust Company back when those bands made you cool.

For years after her sister passed she had found the only thing that felt vaguely satisfying was leaving that CD on her sister’s grave. And when CDs started becoming scarce, she had spent a few hundred dollars on Amazon buying all of the CDs she could find with that song on it. She’d be damned if she ever missed a single anniversary. Never went on the day of her passing, though. No. That felt sacrilegious. She went on her sister’s birthday, played the song on her headphones, along with a few others, but Heroes was the one that she played most. It was the one she’d leave behind after telling her how her parents had finally divorced, or how her dad had been ‘thinking’ about retiring again. For the hundredth time. Or how she’d been accepted as an Agent and two weeks ago, about how she was feeling so fucking lost.

But memories of memories are easier to put away, and much like her locker that held Detective Loki, her sister’s, much more ornate and much larger, she put those memories of memories away.

Her bag was hanging off her form lazily and her hair was done just enough to be presentable. By no means was she falling apart, but she was working. Working hard meant she lost focus on other parts of herself. It meant she had zeroed in on certain aspects of the case. Like how all of the individuals abducted had been on the same phone carrier, Radius, or how the TV was a model made by the company Source that had been discontinued three years ago, but at the time had been beyond revolutionary. Even now it was considered brilliant. She had found no traces of the nerve agent were discovered at the scene which meant they were probably injected with the pure form. Which meant someone had a lot of it.

Her theories meant that this man was not just dangerous but he had resources. He had access to things that people shouldn’t have access to and maybe he worked with Radius? Had access to their systems? The generator powering the church had been a Source item as well, meaning both were connected. Who used Source and Radius?

The precinct was still somewhat quiet, at 8am, slightly later than yesterday. Shift change had taken place and the detectives were still filtering in. Except for Detective Loki who was hunched at his desk, a long sleeved, form fitting black shirt on his form and black pants hanging off his hips. He looked sleek. Dangerous, even. She could see how someone might fall for someone like him.

Placing her bag down in the conference room, having actually remembered her coffee traveler this time, she glanced up as one of the cops walked in with a box, “Agent Y/L/N, this was left here about an hour ago for you. UPS dropped it off.”

The 2-PAM. She smiled and took it, “Thanks. Kind of nice when things work out like they’re supposed to for once,” she chuckled, curious why the box was so damn light.

The officer left and Y/N looked down, noticing that the label wasn’t stamped ‘FBI’ and in fact the sender name was absent, save for an address in Pennsylvania that didn’t look familiar. Maybe not the FBI?

Her heart suddenly began to race, carefully putting the box down as she looked to the side, seeing Detective Loki still hunched over. The man was on a mission.

Reaching behind herself she withdrew the small switchblade she kept tucked into her waist line, the one that no one ever saw. That was small. Cold and awkward at times but useful. Like now.

Why did this feel like defusing a bomb?

The blade clicked and she carefully began to open the box. She was aware it didn’t matter anymore who touched it, or if she damaged it. She knew whatever was inside the box was key. And with a final tug, the lid opened and she peered inside.

Time stopping had always felt like kind of an exaggeration to Y/N. How does time even ‘stop’? What, does the world freeze? Well, it did.

Staring inside the box she could see the face of a man she knew well, a man who cradled her soul and her heart and sang brilliant love songs to her, who had kept her connected to her sister, even in death. The black CD cover with two red forms on it, her sister claimed them red blood cells but said they looked like rose petals.

Her hand was surprisingly steady as she picked up the note inside, reading the immaculate cursive written on some kind of specialty papyrus paper, “My deepest sympathies, Agent. Your triumph through tragedy only enhances your beauty.”

And with that, she ran for the plastic trash bin nearby and fell to it, retching hard as she threw up the entire contents of her breakfast, causing the box, the note, and the Peter Gabriel CD with Heroes on it to tumble to the floor.

Immediately David heard the noise and jumped, running inside the room as the precinct suddenly jumped to life, turning to take in the scene. The note, CD, and box were on the floor and Y/N was kneeling by the small, cheap plastic trash bin puking.

“What the fu-” David was almost able to spit the words out before a strangely animalistic sound came from her lips, screaming into the bin that she had already emptied the contents of her stomach into.

The world grew quiet as the scream died down, leaving Y/N on her knees with her eyes closed, knuckles white as she gripped the bin as though it were the only thing keeping her alive right now. Stable. Present. Here.

“Get me gloves and bags for the items, now!” David yelled out, to no one in particular as he knelt by the woman in a kind of distress he didn’t know a person could experience from a simple box, “Hey, talk to me, what happened? Are you OK?”

Her face snapped, wiping her lips as she glared, “Do I look OK to you, Detective? Do I fucking look OK?” Her voice was raised, though not yelling.

Snapping back David glared, “Do we need to decontaminate the room? Is there anything infectious?” He looked at her seriously.

Taking a breath her eyes pulled away, “No. No chemicals. But it’s toxic none the less.”

Her voice was quiet as she spoke the words, closing her eyes and trying to forget what she had just seen. Experienced. Felt in her gut. Her soul had been torn forth in that moment and the timing of the CD was so tragically horrifying. For a brief moment of paranoia she wondered if perhaps someone had been able to access her personal phone, heard what she was listening to. The artist. The song.

Getting up rather quickly, Y/N stumbled slightly as she made her way through the people that had clustered, watching as two other detectives came rushing forward with evidence collecting items. Forensics would get it. They’d dust it for fingerprints and they would come up with hers, the delivery driver’s, the handlers at the warehouse… maybe a dozen people. And none would be the culprits. David would direct people to track the package and they would. They’d track it to some nondescript location where cameras weren’t installed and it’d been paid for with cash. She knew it like she knew the songlist on that CD.

Heading for the door of the precinct her head felt light, woozy, and she was struggling for something stable. Something to keep her grounded. Even as she threw open the doors of the building, those glass doors lined with metal, solid as hell, heavy as fuck, she ran out into the bitter air, feeling the cold devour her skin.

More.

She didn’t realize it but she was running now, into the parking lot, David not far behind, though he didn’t exist right now. Her sister’s smile was there, a true memory in its purest form, the smile she had wanted to see last night but didn’t want tainted and tied to this psychopath now.

Unthinking and perhaps uncaring, her hands grabbed at the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it to the ground of the parking lot filled only with cars, otherwise without a soul. The air was frigid as it enveloped her and tore her from reality. She gasped as the item fell, leaving her in her form-fitted white t-shirt and jeans alone, able to see her breath as she felt it stopping her from hyperventilating, the cold burning her skin, tearing at her and pulling her out of this other reality.

Once, during training, she had been shot. Not with a real bullet, of course, but shot none the less. A rubber bullet the academy insisted they feel the impact of to know what they might use in certain circumstances. And, perhaps, be prepared for since it’d be similar to a bullet hitting a bulletproof vest. The bullet had been fired by some complete and utter asshole Thomas Engleson, a man who didn’t think women could hack it. He shot her in the ribcage, instead of the stomach. He hit her directly. Not indirectly. And of course he was excused for it.

The pain of the shot had been incredible but she had gritted her teeth and taken it in. A cracked rib meant she was out for a bit, but it didn’t actually stop her. She kept training. Moving. Not exacerbating the damage but doing just enough to keep going. But the pain of that moment had been etched into her body’s memory.

This hurt worse.

Her skin was covered in goosebumps from the cold, beginning to shiver as she stood, perhaps for ten minutes, David standing behind her as he looked at her. This woman unshaken by so much, who had taken in twelve dead bodies and kept going, who took information meant to terrify and had kept pushing. Whatever had been in that note, in that box, had been meant just for her on a level those notes for David never touched.

It felt like an ache, standing in the cold as he watched the woman he had found himself so fond of suddenly pushing out the entire world as though it might infect her. He wanted to grab her sweater, wrap her in it, and pull her close. He’d swear to god he’d get the guy. And he would, even if he didn’t tell her that. He swore as he watched her, that finding this man would be his only task. He wouldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t eat. This was Dover and Birch, but now he was the onve involved. His own life was on the line.

“Do you ever wonder what it feels like to die, David?” The words were loud enough for him to hear, the wind suddenly picking up as she stared ahead to the road leading into the precinct, fairly empty though cars scattered about, the day cloudy and bitter.

He took a moment to consider it. He had. He had wondered once, when the kid in his backseat was frothing at the mouth, if maybe he prayed hard enough her poison would go into his body. He could take it, he thought. Better let the child live. He had seen enough, “Yes.” He answered simply. Now was not the time for banter.

A sort of dark chuckle left her lips, “I used to wonder what it might be like to die. After my sister was killed, I thought it was the only thing left that could actually scare me. The world couldn’t hurt me any more than it did when I was seventeen. I didn’t want to die, I still don’t, but I knew I could face that fear.

“But now? God, David… I wish I was fucking dead.” She fell to her knees so suddenly it caught David by surprise, running to her as he grabbed her sweater, saying ‘fuck it’ to the world as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her body to his as he tried to finagle a way to keep her sweater on her as well.

No sobs or cries escaped her lips as her body went lax, falling against him as she wondered, perhaps, if maybe just giving in to this would be best. This felt so goddamn dramatic, and maybe it was, but for good reason. This man had found out one of her most intimate details of her life and sent it to her in a box. He had delivered to her a piece of her, and what scared her most was the fact that this man, this murderer, thought he was showing some sort of deranged compassion.

Time seemed to stop and David was grateful for the fact that they were far enough away, and behind most of the cars in the lot, that the world wouldn’t see them like this. He could smell the free, nondescript shampoo offered by the hotel, unsurprised that she wasn’t doused in perfume. But she did smell of something. Her own personal brand of herself. Pushing back some of her hair he spoke, “You can’t go anywhere yet. You can’t possibly trust me to finish this case by myself,” he grinned, stopping himself from pressing his lips against her head.

Chuckling, despite her desire not to, she shook her head, “I sure as hell don’t expect you to solve this alone. You need my theories, Detective Loki. I came up with a bunch last night.” It was tragic in a way, how fast she was working to compartmentalize. Whoever it was that had sent her the letter had done a bang-up job scaring the shit out of her. He had opened the locker that held her sister and emptied the contents without permission. But Y/N was cleaning it up. She was fixing it. In her mind she was already putting herself and all those pieces back together.

Looking confused David pulled away slightly, “Don’t you think you should go get coffee or something? Take a- Ah, fuck, who am I kidding. You’re not listening to me, are you?”

The ghost of a smile crept onto her lips as she raised an eyebrow, looking at David now, “Not really. And I mean, what’s stopping going to do? We both know I’m invested. He… he may have targeted you and those other detectives, and honed onto you, but with me… I’m a happy accident. He picked me. I don’t want to be another body in a church, David,” her eyes changed as she looked at him, suddenly fragile and vulnerable, opening her heart to this man. Detective. The one holding her in the parking lot of the precinct while both tried to put together what they just went through.

Stroking her cheek lightly David whispered, “And you won’t be. You’re gonna get up, put your sweater on, and go back inside. And when everyone looks at you, or asks if you’re OK, you’re not gonna smile or fake it, you stare at them. Through them. None of them matter now. Not a single soul inside. We’re gonna find this asshole, and we’re gonna stop him. Now get up.”

He pulled away, nothing truly romantic in the gesture but one that broke her just the same. They were words that felt charged with something more than a pep talk, but instead felt like a true demand. David understood she wasn’t some person who just fell over because they were pushed. She’d stumble. She’d fall. And he knew she could get right back up and go back to bat. And as she stood, David doing the same, he watched her eyes as she put the sweater on. Something had changed, briefly, something else. Something oddly dark that he couldn’t put his finger on, but understood she perhaps needed. The same thing he had needed in his time.

Turning her back to him, Y/N made her way back towards the precinct, her feet marching with purpose, her eyes focused, laser focused, as she understood what this was. This man chose people. Always. He had a reason and a purpose and it was never an accident. He had found the CD she brought to her sister’s grave (though she suspected it wasn’t the same one), he had written a detailed note, and he had found the one thing in this world she was still so very vulnerable to.

Now she was going to find him.

( @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @is-it-madness @detecellie @oscarflysaac @peccobagnaia @fgtakbrjbdl @doritosandavocados @miss-missing-patd

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aijee · 5 years ago

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thoughts on “the price of mirrors”

My head is such a tumultuous storm of thoughts right now (very thematic, too, since it stormed where I live just yesterday). But life is too short to not document what felt like a really meaningful and formative writing experience. My (very long) thoughts about “the price of mirrors” below the cut:

I’m writing this during the COVID-19 crisis. Quarantine has been a, understandably, very isolating experience for many. I’ve been living on my own for a few years already, but the self-isolation has been quite difficult and melancholy. I think “the price of mirrors” was an unconscious way for me to process that loneliness I was feeling. I first watched The Great Happiness Space documentary a long time ago and revisited it last month after stumbling on more recent Youtube videos about hosting. I remembered, “Ah, I’ve always wanted to write about those loud and drowning spaces, that experience of luxury and loneliness, the desperation for love and acceptance.” The dynamic of host/clients reminded me so much of idol/K-Pop fans, many of whom go to incredible, sometimes dangerous and unhealthy lengths for their faves. I, too, was very lonely when I was younger and used K-Pop as my crutch. But how far will that dependence go for others?

Wonwoo and Mingyu (as the fic characters, not the people themselves) are meant to represent two sides of the same coin: daytime news limelight versus shady nighttime activities. Both must be experts in their words and careful of who they trust. Both bottle up who they are because of the worlds around them, leaving them to often be “someone else” in order to do their job, which itself is closely tied to their sense of purpose (e.g. Mingyu “helping” clients) and self-worth (e.g. Wonwoo getting recognition for his writing). Work culture in Korea, and many Asian countries in general, is very serious and can impede on mental and physical health. Take your role seriously and be a good cog in society’s machine.

Names are a very important motif in the story. As Mingyu tells Wonwoo, he knows just how important names are. Idols, even those with stage names, give their names and personal history to their jobs. In the K-Pop world, are the people on screen known as “Mingyu” and “Wonwoo” the same “Mingyu” and “Wonwoo” in real life? No. But the line distinguishing fantasy and reality is so blurred because of the idol system itself. This is very prevalent in J-Pop idol culture, too, which is what K-Pop idol culture was based on. An academic paper I read discussed the over-saturation of digital images in everyday life in technologically-advanced Japan (computers, digital billboards, changing picture screens in restaurants and subways, etc.). This mixes fantasy with the real world. The digital aspect isn’t played up in the fic since it’s less relevant in hosting than in idol culture, but Wonwoo still constantly struggles to figure out which parts of Mingyu are real or fake, or if there’s a black-and-white way to analyze Mingyu at all. The same can be said for idols, who are trained to sell fantasies while still being “real.”

But names are still YOU, still a complex person with flaws and feelings. Mingyu is ready to give his away because he believes in instant openness without thinking about the repercussions for the sake of doing his “role” well. Wonwoo is the opposite because journalism is a vicious arena of keeping/losing privacy, critiques, downright hate in feedback, etc. Wonwoo addresses his journal entries to Joshua because it gives him mental direction—a familiar friendly face—in expressing his thoughts. Pretty much none of the more important clients are named. Even the hosts only refer to clients by pet names, which clients eventually feel like they embody to the host. (Imagine being called “love” every time a handsome guy sees you—is it hard to start believing that he truly does love you?)

Time is also an important motif, most obviously represented by Mingyu’s watch. It’s a simple one and yet it’s incredibly expensive. This is actually based on a famous watch owned by a racecar driver (I think), which became sought after because he became famous, and the watch was one-of-a-kind despite being so simple and relatively cheap at the time it was first bought. In the fic, the watch represents the preciousness of simplicity in how you spend your time. This is achieved chiefly through Mingyu’s simple dinner with Wonwoo, but also just through their more casual conversations throughout the story.

The watch also represents the time that needs to be let go of before a new time in your life can start. Mingyu’s ex-client gave it to him before going on a blind date and meeting her future husband. Mingyu gave it to Wonwoo after deciding to move on from hosting life to start finding new meaning. Both the client and Mingyu had strong feelings for their respective recipients. What were those feelings? Who knows? Not all feelings need words to be felt or expressed. (And MinWon went on a blind date instead of Mingyu finding a new flame but that’s neither here nor there lmao.)

I’m honestly just rambling at this point, so I’ll leave it there. Aaah there are so many more things I wanna write about!! (Precarity is a real phenomenon that fuels host club culture!!! This is what I use my university resources for omg.)

Kudos and much thanks to anyone who took the time to read this!! I definitely overthought, over-planned, and over-researched for a K-Pop fic that probably won’t get much traction these days, but I genuinely enjoyed writing “the price of mirrors” so damn much and will be reading it over and over myself. If you’re not writing for yourself, then you’re doing it wrong!

#aijeepost #shut up me

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pumpkin-bread · 4 years ago

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January Dragon Share: Day 28

The Saddest Backstory

As a rule, I don’t write stories just to be upsetting. There’s enough sadness in the real world and I prefer a bit of an escape. BUT. That certainly doesn’t mean I don’t have a few sad stories I’ve written. Here’s three that compete for the saddest.

Cassanda - Suchimu - Hope

Under the cut for length, but I’ll warn you that there’s a lot of death and illness in there as well.

Cassanda:

Another of Pepper's "favourites". Cassandra was taken in from the street as a young child and adopted as the fae's own. Though treated to the luxurious life of a noble, she still felt a yearning for exploration - and battle as well - and began training with the off-duty castle guards the moment she was strong enough to hold a sword. Becoming proficient with the blade, she later worked with the crystalline castle's elite warriors to learn the finer arts of combat and defense, until she was strong enough to travel safely on her own. And so, she roamed for years, visiting the farthest reaches of Sornieth and seldom coming back unless called for. One such occasion brought the news that a suitor had been chosen for her. Though initially quite wary about the entire thing, she was shocked to find she had an instant connection with the young man who had been picked. He led a starkly different life than she did, one devoted to scholarly pursuits. He could read and write multiple written languages - even those of some beastclans - and knew their histories and mythologies by heart. It was a part of the world she'd never much experienced, and it fascinated her. The two would spend long nights swapping stories - but even their silence was comfortable and warm. She found she could relax around him, and falling in love was easier than she'd ever expected. He was not a warrior, nor the most efficient traveler - and he did all the important documentation for Amberspire, to boot - so she still often went on excursions alone. He would complain whenever she was packing to leave - though it was in a lighthearted manner, somewhat of a joke between them by that time. "Do you really have to leave?" "Do you really have to stay here?" "Yes." "Yes." "I'll always come back!" "And I'll always be waiting!" Had become a routine conversation for them, simply part of their goodbyes for years to come. But one day, during one of her trips, Princess Cassandra received word of an attack on Amberspire - one which left many dead, and her husband severely wounded. Though she immediately hurried back to the crystalline castle, she had been a week's travel away. He had been dead for several days by the time she'd made it back, as were the guards who had trained her, and civilians as well. Her grief was matched only by her guilt; the knife that twisted in her chest whenever she thought of how everything could have been different had she just been there, how she might have protected him and everyone else, how she might've been able to stop the trespasser who had taken so many, how if she had just been a little closer, she might of at least been able to say goodbye. Princess Cassandra was not present for the mass funeral held, nor did she leave her room for months thereafter. If it weren't for the occasional sight of Lady Pepper and Princess Avonne occasionally going in to visit, most would have believed that she was a late victim of that night as well. Months later, she did begin to roam about the castle once more - but she was starkly different from the woman the Amberspirians had remembered. She had become gaunt, quiet, and unfriendly; ignoring those who spoke to her, and standing silently during important events and festivals royals were expected to be present for. Her traveling days seemed over for good.

***

Suchimu: It was a frigid night in the Arcane Isles. It was typical for the levels of magical irradiation to cause something akin to nuclear winter, sapping the life from all but the hardiest of flora. Each blade of grass was frozen beyond any hope of survival, and shattered at the slightest touch. To say the least, it offered no comfort to the imperial who lay in a weary heap deep within the barren, gnarled woods. Far in the distance, Castle Amberspire lit up the night with a warm but unwelcome glow. She hated the sight of it, but she couldn’t leave. Not yet. Her two remaining children lay curled peacefully around her new enchanted satchel - a gift her previous visitor had left behind - which radiated much-needed warmth. Such kindness had meant the world in the midst of such loss, but in the end did nothing to allay her grief. She stirred, carefully shifting to brush the hair from one of her hatchlings’ eyes. She smiled weakly at the sight of her son’s face so peaceful in sleep. It at once warmed and broke her heart to see so much of her mate in him. Her mate. After so many decades of traveling together as simply “friends”; companions who were always bound to meet again, despite how different their paths in life became. She’d loved him for decades. Perhaps if she’d known he’d felt the same so long ago, everything would have played out differently. Perhaps they would have been together years ago, living in a clan of their very own far from this damned forest. Perhaps they would have continued their travels, losing all other material anchors to any place or time, still laughing and sharing stories wherever the wind took them. Or, perhaps they would have lived out their love and parted ways, never to speak again. Though the thought pained her, she would have traded everything she had even for the last outcome – for her to have done just one damned thing differently – for if she had, perhaps he would still have walked this earth. His whispered plea for her to stay hidden with their eggs was to be the last words he spoke to her. He was taken, throat slit and dragged off into the night. She so desperately wanted to chase after the dragons who took him, to tear them apart and bring him home. To at least give her mate a proper burial if there was no hope of saving him. But they were gone so quickly, his weight nothing compared to their combined strength. And it was so damn cold. If she had left her eggs, they would have died within the hour. Perhaps in his last moments he’d given himself to It fully. That must have been why her visitor had held such hope - but she could not say if it would be better or not if he had. He’d never let the Shade take over; though it had warped and marred his hide, he had always remained the same inside, his soul untainted as they day they’d first crossed paths. If he still lived, it would be as nothing more than a facsimile of the male she’d loved: a hollow shell that became residence to something insidious. She couldn’t bear the thought. The tears she’d managed to hold off for so long won out; she clutched her head in her hands, digging her claws into her brows as sobs wracked her body. The movement was enough to rouse her children, who cried out in drowsy protest. She choked and forced herself to still, fighting back the shattering pain in her chest until her cries ceased. They couldn’t stay here. Everything reminded her of him in the worst way, and she couldn’t raise her children where only sorrow flourished. Whether she wished to start anew or simply give up, she couldn’t say then - but her first priority was her hatchlings. They deserved happiness, and needed safety. She could not provide them with either of those things. She raised her head, looking wearily about the forest before grimacing once more at the sight of the castle. Her answer was certainly not within godsdamned Amberspire. “Aether, Mist, you will be happy, even if we never see each other again. Mama promises,” she said in a barely audible whisper, curling around her hatchlings and letting her eyes shut. She didn’t know what to do, or where to go in the end. 'I want to go home' echoed in her mind, but she knew her birthland was not the answer. She had learned, in the worst way, that home was not a place, but a person. ****

Hope:

Stay back. *wheeze* No, I’m not afraid of you harming me. Quite the opposite, in fact. *rasp* I carry an illness, you see. One that took the lives of all I’d known. I’d hate for you to catch it. *wheeze* A healer? You cannot help me. I seek those versed in combating the Shade. *cough* A cure? No. I have little hope for that, in my case. But I must share my findings. *rasp* I have a document of everything. How it spread, who fell and when. I was their doctor - *cough* If - if I can share my notes, perhaps our kind can at least grow closer to finding one. A cure. If that is true, then perhaps this loss… perhaps it wasn’t for nothing.“

It started with a whimper. The elderly and young began to fall ill. Only the feeblest at first, but it wasn’t long before the clan was devoid of children’s laughter, and elders no longer left their homes. They began to pass. Peacefully, it seemed. Most simply falling asleep and never waking up. Fearing a plague, the bodies were all burned. Burials were hasty and done en masse in vast pits just beyond the clan proper, with no headstones nor mark of any sort to signify just who had been lost. Mourning parents and families had no time to fashion their own, for even those in the prime of their lives became gripped with the same pain and fatigue that had taken their parents and children away. But they did not fall. They struggled through their days, doing what they could to keep alive as the mysterious ailment continued to worsen and take hold of the remainder of their kin. A cough developed amongst them all that shook bodies and rattled bones. Fevers – and delusions – became rampant, and soon the sickest of the clan were wandering the streets; dazed, lost, and violent when approached. Those who still had their thoughts locked themselves away and barricaded the doors, until they too succumbed to madness, starvation, or whatever else. Screams and wails filled the days and nights, tormenting those who could still understand, Until only one remained. The clan healer, who had done everything he could to save each and every member of his community and falling short each time. He’d documented each change in health, the names of each patient, and the date they had died until it became unsafe to do so and he’d locked himself away in desperate search of a cure. When the outside world began to fall silent, he ventured out into the decrepit remains of his home. Bodies of former friends and allies littered the streets, amongst bodily filth and long since dried blood. Donning what protective gear he did have, he began to dig another pit alongside the first, for even in his own weakened state he knew they deserved a burial. But when the time came to gather the dead, he was able to fully understand the depth to this plague. Bodies lurched upward in reaction to being touched. They stood on broken legs and watched with eyes that had long since rotted out. His clanmates were dead, but what inhabited them was not. He fought as much as he could, but after weeks of starvation he had no hope of succeeding. The man fled the godforsaken place he’d called home, taking his medicine bag, the clothes on his back, and the log of all who had fallen with him. Now, he wanders, walking until he collapses and resting only then. He has hope for a cure, or at least some way to kill off what still lives in that clan. But he stays far away from anyone else, for he feels the cough that rattles his bones, and can see the tarry black that webs over his palm whenever he coughs. He, too, is infected.

#flight rising #fr lore #writing #january dragon share #JanDragon2021 #SO MUCH LORE #I know it's the 27th but baby is asleep so i might as well get ahead

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