#i keep thinking about wanting to make connections and get out there

[deepspace-raconteur]

Once again, I bring porn! This time of the fishy variety.

Nothing super kinky, big dick!Raf, sleepy fucking, AFAB MC, Rafayel just loves you so much man, chubby mc,

Rafayel x MC, established relationship.

🐡🐚

You and Rafayel had been dealing with… a problem. For some time now.

For the entire duration of your physical relationship, actually.

The issue being: he’s too big.

Jest all you like, it’s a problem. Or at least, it is to you. Not to say you and Rafayel don’t get each other off, (sea) god knows you can’t keep your hands off each other 99% of the time.

(Thomas is afraid to sit on any of Rafayel’s furniture when he visits, and for good reason. He’d walked in on you two far too many times on the floor, the couch, a memorable time on the ladder…)

Still, it eats at you. That you can’t take him fully. That you two have never ‘fully connected’- note here that Rafayel very much begs to differ, and insists that he does not have this issue. That you, and your limits, are perfect to him, and that he and his dick are very satisfied with your current sex life.

Again, still, it eats away at you. At your self-perception, at your confidence in your own ability to satisfy him… At your heart and mind.

Rafayel hates it. Hates that you take such a small thing so hard. Brushing aside the ego boost it is that his dick is literally too big (ha! What guys can claim that problem, cutie?), he sees the look in your eyes. He sees it when you SHOULD be far more focused on him, thank you very much.

To him, it’s not even that big of a deal- so what he can’t go in that last inch or two? It hasn’t made a difference thus far! But he digresses, and comforts you when he sees that look in your eye.

So, he researches. Reads about things like vaginal tenting, the role of stimulation and duration thereof in intimacy. Of lubrication and preparation, and most of it he already knows frankly (in perhaps not as technical terms), but it’s never bad to brush up. Who knows, maybe more recent research had come out.

Then, he begins to troubleshoot, disguised as his normal passion and unpredictability. New positions, new techniques he ‘just wants to try’.

What he calls foreplay, but is what you’re pretty sure is a ploy to make you completely lose your mind.

After the fourth orgasm he gifts to you, you think your brain might be melting out of your ears.

“Raf- Rafayel, please! I can’t- I can’t-“ comes out as thin whines. Prettily manicured nails clutch into the messy hair of the artist who painted them between your legs. He’d been there for at least two hours now, and seemed content to stay there the rest of the night, too. He hums in acknowledgement, sending a shock up your spine as the vibration targets your clit.

“O-oh, god-“

“You called, cutie?” He finally, finally pulls away. His fingers pulling out almost drags another cry out from between your lips. You can’t help the way your entire body slumps into the mattress, limp and pliable. Rafayel lays his head down, cheek resting on your plush lower tummy as he gazes up at you adoringly. His thumb rubs soothing circles into the flesh of your inner thigh. You focus on just trying to catch your breath.

The gauzy curtains sway in the sea breeze. You can see the stars in near perfect clarity here in his bed, through the glass roof. You idly wonder if this room was meant to be a bedroom, or some sort of solarium intended for plants.

“How you feeling, cutie? Have I worn you out completely?” A smug smile curls his lips, and it’s unbearably cute. Most everything about him is cute, actually, not that you’ll ever say that out loud. You compliment him enough already.

It’s with a final deep breath that you push yourself up onto your elbows, grinning down at the lemurian. “I always have energy for you, seastar.”

He crawls up your body slowly, leaving kisses here and there until he finally reaches your lips. He presses you back down into the mattress, slow and insistent. No room to run away, his body dwarfing your own, emphasized by the way he keeps most his weight off you with a single forearm braced by your head.

You two stay like that, making out to your heart’s content until you feel as though you might actually morph into one being.

When he does finally pull away, he coos down at you, “aww, you are sleepy, cutie. Lookit those droopy eyes.” He leans down to leave a kiss over each eyelid. “Do you want to keep going?” His question is met with an insistent nod, and your arms curling around his shoulders. He chuckles, nuzzling his nose down your jawline.

“Alright, alright. How about this then…”

You let yourself get gently manhandled by him onto your stomach, only letting out a disgruntled huff when your hair accidentally gets caught under a hand for a moment. He’s quick to let up, rubbing the pulled roots for a moment in apology.

When you’re resettled, you’re on your stomach with a pillow under your hips, prone bone style. Rafayel layers himself over the top of you, and feels you shudder when his cock slots between your legs.

He stays like that for a second, you both basking in the closeness. One of his hand runs up and down your side, then slides over to take your hand and pull it up above your head. There, he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes. He nips at the back of your neck, and then you feel it- the slow but steady push inside of you.

You moan lowly, pressing your head down into the mattress. It’s muffled like that, and Rafayel’s next nip is sharper, and you get the message and turn your head. He hates it when you try to muffle yourself, muffle your reactions to his hard work.

He earned those pretty noises, damnit, and he wants to hear them.

The next few minutes are careful, as he always is. He’d learned his lesson the first time he’d gotten a tad overexcited, and had accidentally hurt you. He’d never done it again.

Soon you settle into a steady rhythm that has you panting and canting your hips to meet his. The one hand squeezes the one of yours it holds hostage, and the other roams torturously free. One moment plucking your nipple, the next leaving a bruising grip imprint on your hip. At one point, he grabs your jaw and pulls you into a scorching kiss, and you wonder for a second if this will be the time you leave his home with burns.

(He’s far too powerful and in control of his evol for that to ever happen, thanks. He’d be a disgrace of a god if he ever lost control of it and allowed that to happen to his beloved.)

In the end, it isn’t even him that pushes that final inch or so. It’s you.

Rafayel is so close to his own orgasm that he has to pause if he wants to continue pursuing his goal. His breathing is ragged in your ear as he stays pressed inside you, trying to stave off his climax. He’s painting a bright hickey onto your shoulder when he hears you make an impatient noise in the back of your throat.

Then, you push your hips back, forcefully and suddenly. A not so subtle encouragement for him to get moving again.

He chokes when his hips meet your ass, and he’s fully seated inside you. For the first time. Ever.

You don’t even notice.

Rafayel is shocked into silence for only a second, then a delirious grin splits his cheeks. He was fully inside you, and the proof of the lack of discomfort was your own obliviousness.

“Cutie~” he hums teasingly into your ear, to be met with yet another annoyed moan. He swivels his hips, then grinds down into you slowly but firmly, pressing as deeply inside as he can. Not even a wince. He wants to cheer- almost does.

“Can you feel me deep inside you, cutie? Have you even realized yet?” He teases. He gets a very annoyed side-eye glance for not doing what he knows you want. That is, fucking you into next week.

He rolls his eyes, then pulls out just to fuck back in firmly and completely. He damn near sends his own eyes rolling back in their sockets, and breathes raggedly. That, at least, seems to connect some dots, and he sees those pretty eyes he could spend a century trying to color match blow wide.

He takes that as his cue, and starts to fuck the hell out of you in earnest. It’s a celebration now, after all.

“I’m so proud of you cutie, you took all of me. Knew you could.” He gasps between strokes. Below him, the moans and cries steadily grow in volume, and he grins viciously. Yeah, tonight he’d make you scream. It seemed only appropriate.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” He coos, “I knew you could do it. You just needed some extra love to get there. Knew we were a perfect fit for each other.”

He grabs your other hand and mirrors the other, pressing them both into the mattress above your head. Like this, his biceps bracket your head, and you can’t help but bite one. Rafayel hisses above you, his hips stuttering, and he laughs. It seemed he’d have his own marks to match yours in the morning.

“Mmph, fuck, cutie, ah- I’ll-“ he gasps. “I’ll have to fuck you like this every day from now on. Can’t have you forgetting what all of me feels like anytime soon, after you worked so hard.”

Your cries get muffled into his bicep as he feels you tighten like a vice grip around him as you climax. Rafayel stands no chance, and buries his head into your shoulder as his own orgasm is foisted upon him.

You stay like that for a while, until Rafayel can manage to drag himself out and off of you. He doesn’t go far, just falling off to the side and pulling you back into his arms. He curls around you tightly like that, face buried happily into the back of your head.

“I knew you could do it cutie. You did such a good job taking all of me. I’ll cook us a seafood feast tomorrow to celebrate.” He murmurs sleepily, unaware of the bright blush that lights up his lover’s cheeks.

[ddejavvu]

pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

request: The BAU going to interview a witness in the hospital, only whenever Spencer is in the room, or speaks to reader in his soft voice, or touches them, their heart monitor starts beeping extremely loudly. Much to the amusement of the rest of the team. And to your sheer mortification. Spencer hypothesises maybe he looks like the unsub, poor guy has to get explained to him why he's wrong for once. And why they all keep sending him in to talk to you ;)

"Guys, I don't think I should go in there." Spencer's face is pinched in a concerned frown, and his teammates eye him with the same worry.

Derek claps a hand on Spencer's shoulder, "Why not, Reid? You're the only one she'll talk to."

"I think it's because she's afraid of me," Spencer admits, shoulders hunched uncomfortably inwards, "I think she's only talking because she's worried I'll hurt her, or something. I must look like the unsub."

"You think she's afraid of you?" Rossi questions, a paper cup of coffee in his hands that is entirely too empty for him to be having this conversation, "Reid, I don't think that's true."

Spencer presses onwards undeterred, shaking his head, sending his curls flying, "Every time I go in there I make her nervous. Her heart monitor starts going haywire, like she's having a flashback or something. I mean, one time I put my hand on her arm and the nurses flocked into the room because they thought the medication they'd given her was causing a seizure. I think I must remind her of the unsub somehow, and we can use that in the profile, but I don't want to keep tormenting her."

There's far too many seconds of prolonged, awkward silence. The team glances at Reid, at each other, at the floor, anything that will keep them from having to open their mouths. Eventually, Hotch steps into his role as leader, and moves through the cramped hallway towards Spencer's nervous, guilt-ridden trame.

"Reid, she's not nervous because you look like the unsub. She- squirms, and stutters, and you're the only one she'll talk to about what happened to her. If she were really negatively affected by your presence, she'd ask us not to send you in anymore. But she practically looks disappointed whenever anyone else tries talking to her. I don't think her heart rate increases because she's afraid of you."

Spencer's silent, his brows creased in thought, but perhaps even his genius brain can't parse this one out in a timely manner. Emily pipes up, "Reid, she's got a crush on you. And if that's what it takes to get this guy, then that's what we'll have to use. You're kind to her, and she's receptive to that. Now it doesn't matter the reason, but you can at least take solace in the fact that she's not afraid of you, okay? Not at all. That's why you have to go back in there, because you make her feel safe."

"No, I- I don't think that's what it is." Spencer's cheeks warm, pinkening beneath the hallway's fluorescent lighting, "I don't think she'd be able to form that sort of connection so soon after experiencing such a traumatic experience."

"That's exactly why she likes you," Derek insists, "You saved her. You swooped in and carried her to safety and now you're her knight in shining armor. And even if she won't feel this way forever, she feels it now, and you're the one she wants to talk to. You're the one that makes her feel safe. So go in there, and make her feel comfortable enough to help us catch this guy. Okay?"

Spencer's mouth tightens in a displeased frown for just a second, "I don't think you guys are right. I- I think it's something else. But I'll talk to her again."

"That's all we're asking." Hotch nods, pushing his shoulder gently towards the door of your room, "Now, go in there, and work your magic, Reid. We need more details."

Spencer turns the doorknob to your room with clammy hands, and finds you sleeping inside. He debates whether or not he should back out and let you rest, but for every minute he delays, their unsub walks free. He presses onwards, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him is enough to rouse your frayed nerves from sleep.

You jolt awake, eyes flying wide open and hands clenching the bedsheets like they're weapons you could use. Your eyes lock onto Spencer, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you stare at him like he'll attack you. But you drink in the curve of his nose, the puff of his lips, the messy ringlets of honey-colored hair that fall around his face, and your breathing evens out.

Your heart monitor, though, does not. Reid watches as your heartbeat stays frantic, and he moves slowly towards a chair by your bed in hopes of not spooking you any further.

"Hi, Dr. Reid." You murmur, your voice soft as you settle back against your pillow, "Is there any news on the investigation?"

"No, nothing new." Spencer admits, watching as you turn to face him. You angle your body entirely towards him, and you even scoot your head a centimeter closer on your pillow. Your face twists in displeasure at Spencer's admission, but you don't move away.

"Oh." You lay your cheek in your palm, "Did you want to talk to me more? I told you everything I know."

"I believe you." Spencer nods, "But l'm here to coach you through a memory exercise. You can stay laying down, but- take my hands?"

There's a slight blip in your heart rate, a missing beat where there should have been two. Then it kicks back up wilder than ever, and you take the hands Spencer's offering to you.

"Close your eyes," Spencer instructs, his own flitting towards your heart monitor where it beeps wildly.

"Think back to when he moved you. What sort of terrain was it? Did he go over any hills? Did it smell like animals?"

You squeeze Spencer's hands, nervous, and he squeezes yours back, "Just- remember, I'm here with you, l'll be here with you the whole time." You breathe deeply, and nestle closer to Spencer on the bed. Your hands are sweating in his own, which is a symptom Spencer knows all too well. You're leaning into him, begging for contact as you angle yourself towards him like a flower to the sun, and your heart rate steadily beeps at a mildly concerning level. Spencer keeps his voice steady as he leads you through the memory retrieval exercise, but nothing convinces him more that his team was correct than when it's over, and your eyes snap open, wildly, desperately searching for him.

"I'm here." Spencer hums comfortingly, and he knows that you're taking solace in him when you squeeze his hands, keeping him close instead of letting him go.

[discountlittlebro]

It’s really hard to connect with a therapist, hard to be vulnerable infront of someone but this guy has amazing reviews. So even with the nervousness he tries anyway, one more try at therapy and if it doesn’t work then…then he’ll just give up. It’s not too different from any of the other offices he’s visited, same bored receptionist and fish tank in the waiting room. Same fidgeting patients in chairs, waiting their turn.

And when he goes inside his office and shuts the door, blocking away the others, it still doesn’t feel any different. The man at his desk smiles at him kindly, offers him a seat and asks him the same basic questions.

“Do you want to hurt yourself?” “What do you do when you feel sad?” “Do you have a support system?” It’s all the same basic questions that he’s answered a million times. He answers on autopilot, not even thinking and he doesn’t realize when

“Do you have trouble masturbating?”

“Yes…wait what?”

He had to hear wrong, his therapist didn’t just ask him if he has issues jerking off. He stares at him in shock, eyes wide and jaw dropped slightly but the man just keeps going like he had before, scribbling in his notebook.

“How do you masturbate? What do you think of? Past trauma? Or maybe a crush?”

“That’s…is that really appropriate to be…to talk about?”

“Listen kiddo, part of therapy is being vulnerable. It’s safe in here, we can talk about these things. I’m just trying to get a feeling of who you are. It says in your file you’re trans right? Are you on T yet, have you noticed any bottom growth?”

His face is lit up pink. He looks down, un able to look at the therapist any longer. He feels like an experiment, like he’s being prodded and looked at under a telescope and he can feel the tears prickling in his eyes. His hands clench and unclench in his lap, and he hears the therapist stand. He moves to sit on his desk and unzips his pants.

“Look. Look at me.” His voice is soft, but still so demanding and he can’t help it, he looks. and he’s left in awe when he does. The man is spreading his legs, spreading his cunt and showing off his tdick. “I told you, I understand you. It’s hard when you don’t have somebody to talk to about your transition, all the weird and confusing things that you’re going through. It’s like a second puberty. And it can help if you have someone who’s done it already show you the ropes.”

He nods. Yeah that…that makes sense.

“Yeah I um…I just started T. And there’s a lot of new things happening. Like I’m so hungry all the time and..and well ya know.”

“Horny? It’s not a bad word. You can say it. T makes you horny. How do you handle that?”

And fuck his cock is still out. It makes it hard to concentrate.

“Well I tried jerking off but it doesn’t feel the same? I just try to ignore it I guess. Jerking off makes me feel gross. Makes me think of things that happened to me before.”

“Well that’s no good. You gotta break in your new body, give yourself positive experiences to look at. C’mere. You’re probably not touching yourself right anymore, you can’t keep doing what you were before.”

[yarrowleef]

I think at a certain point we all gotta stop referring to the wc incest issue as "accidents." Like, it can only happen so many times before it's obvious someone made an executive choice to ignore it. it feels like...removing/lessening blame to keep calling it a clueless accident

with the way these books are written, I suspect the wc team mindset is "anything the middle-grade target audience wouldn't remember/question doesn't need to be considered." Like, if Nightheart didn't acknowledge last arc that Bayshine was related to him, then he effectively isn't related to him in the eyes of whatever new reader picked up this arc for the first time. Therefore, might as well not exist. Nothing in this world matters except whatever will get them through the current plotline.

the fact they are writing about animals and consistently refuse to use relatable familial terms like cousin/aunt/uncle/grandparent etc probably makes them comfortable shrugging it off.

the new team especially writes as if they are soft rebooting every other arc. it's the ultimate have your cake and eat it too: they don't want to do the work required to change the world/status quo to prevent this problem (doing so might slightly impede the ease of their break-neck writing speed), but they still want to do standard cliche romantic drama with their new next-gen-protag kits, so…they deal with that road block by ignoring it. There hasn't been a financial incentive not to.

this lack of care is all deeply annoying to me. but we gotta stop calling it an 'accident' b/c that implies they would be motivated to avoid it if it were pointed out to them. dog they know 😭 and they clearly decided it doesn't count if they don't acknowledge it

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 12

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence. Word Count: 1643

"I spy with my little eye something white."

"Your hair?" Jason guessed. The tone of his voice was monotone, and it was clear that the game was going to be coming to an end soon. 

After Danny revealed the true nature of the GIW, and what they had planned, it had been quiet and tense between the two of them. The boredom and quite that followed after though was enough to make them both get over it. 

He doesn't know how long it's been since he woke up, but Danny knows it must have been at least a day by now. With no clock or window in sight it's hard to tell for sure. 

Which is what eventually led to them talking again, and playing games just to try and pass the time. Danny knows what happens though when it's time up. Jason gets taken to the lab, and he gets sent back to Amity where he too will be experimented on. 

"No." 

"The walls?"

Danny is not sure what he can do in this situation. He has to try though. There is no way that he is just going to sit here quietly while they drag Jason away. Maybe he could try and make himself more interesting, something that would make them ignore orders from HQ and take him to the lab instead. Try and buy Jason some time for a possible rescue. 

Sam and Tucker have to be looking for him at this point. The whole reason they came to Gotham was because the GIW were here, surely they must have connected the dots that they are the ones that took him. Danny can only assume that the bats are looking for him now as well what with him foolishly running straight into Damian. 

"Yes." 

"Really?"

"No." 

"Alright you little shit," Jason throws him a playful glare, "I give. What is it? What is your little eye spying?"

"Giving up after only two guesses?" 

"Giving up as this is the fourth time you've spied something white." 

As much as Danny hates to admit it, even to himself, it's nice to have someone here with him right now. He can only imagine how much worse everything would be right now if he didn't have anyone to talk to. 

He would have loved to meet Jason outside of this place and be his friend. That isn't his reality though; not now. 

"The whites of your eyes!”

"Fuck you." Danny can't help but let out a small laugh at Jason’s outburst. "No more eye spy!"

"If no more eye spy I think we'll have to start from the top of our list of games. I don't think there is anything new we could do." 

Instead of responding right away Jason takes a moment to look at him. It seems as if he was looking for something. "No. No more games. It's time to get serious again." 

That shocked Danny as this is seemingly coming out of nowhere. He thought after their first talk that Jason didn't want to know anything more about the GIW or why they took the two of them. Danny's not going to keep anything from Jason though if he really wants to know. "I'll answer what I can." 

“Do you have a brother?” 

That … that is not what Danny thought he was going to ask. Especially with the way Jason asked it. As if he already knew the answer; it wouldn’t make sense though for him to know about Damian. “Why do you ask?” 

Jason peers at him from across the hall with an almost melancholy type of look, “I didn’t really notice it at first, but you look very familiar to a certain big name in Gotham.”

"Is this really what you want to talk about? Me being a doppelganger to Damian Wayne." As soon as he said it Danny knew that he probably messed up. Jason knew it too based on the small smirk gracing his face. 

"We've got nothing else to do, and it's something that's been on my mind for a bit. Also I never said it was Damian Wayne." 

"It's something I've been told before." Danny truthfully argues, "I'm not sure who else in Gotham is a 'big name' that I could look like." 

This guy knows who Danny is somehow, but who would be close enough to Damian to know that he had a twin? And to have been embraced by death enough to become a revenant. Only one name comes to mind. 

"You're Jason Todd. Red Hood, I'm guessing?" 

"And you're Danyal al Ghul."  They are so lucky no monitoring system has been put in place.

It makes sense now that Danny thinks about it. Of course it was Jason Todd, adopted son of Bruce Wayne otherwise known as Batman, would be the revenant. The son that is supposedly dead. Everything he does just leads back to the Wayne family nowadays doesn’t it?

Danny had thought that it was odd when he was reading some of the GIW files how one guy could be setting off so many scanners within one night. Being a vigilante would explain that though. 

"Guess someone owes Damian two nickels, huh? Two nickels for two brothers that have died."  Jason questions mostly to himself. "Wait. You mentioned earlier that you were something different from a normal ghost. Are- are you actually dead? And don't say you can't talk about it because they're listening, we both know they're not. These guys might be smart, but they are still extremely dumb and overconfident for not having a monitoring system set up to watch us. So start talking, casper.” 

There's really not much Danny could say to argue against Jason. Sure, he could simply deny talking about it, but he really doesn’t want to make Jason upset with him right now. Not when this could be the last conversation they ever have with each other. 

"Casper? That's the best you got?" 

"I'll think of another one while you explain how about that?"

So much for trying to misdirect the conversation. "I'm a halfa, half ghost, half human, half dead, half alive. This," Danny gestures to himself as he speaks, "is my ghost half. I can switch between the two." 

"That's freaky."

"Yes, thank you Jason, I know."  Danny gives Jason a hard glare, "As I was saying-" 

The doors at the end of the hall are suddenly opening. Sounds echoing all around them as Jason and Danny can do nothing, but watch as three figures enter the hall. "-And here is where we're currently keeping the revenant and Phantom. I must say we at the GIW are very pleased with how quickly you two accepted our invitation to examine the specimen. It is truly an honor to have The Fentons here! Your research never fails to impress!" 

It's one of the GIW agents talking, but that is not what has Danny's attention. He is solely focused on the two people behind him; his parents. 

That- that can't be though! They knew Danny was Phantom, they put away the weapons, and locked up the lab! Things have been tense in the house since they found out, but surely they weren't here in support of the GIW. His parents weren’t here to experiment on a human being!

Danny watches as they approach his and Jason's cell, and come to a stop in front of them; both are smiling. Anger swallows the shock as he looks at his parents. He should have known better than to think they would give up their ideals for him. Rotting fruit will always fall after all. 

"Now Phantom here is a surprise capture, and I have orders from the higher ups that we aren't allowed to surgically examine it at this location." The agent and his parents' gaze feel hot as they talk about him. "The revenant on the other hand will be ready for you both tomorrow evening!" 

It's his mom who responds to that, "Oh, but we have such a history with Phantom! Surely they'd allow a few simple tests to be done! Testing his- its emotion mimicry and seeing if its joints react the same as ours." 

What an odd thing to suggest Danny thinks to himself. His joints? While it is something that is a part of the review process  it's never been something either of his parents particularly cared about. 

Jason who had been silent throughout all of this looks quizzically in his direction at that. Clearly wondering what kind of history he has with these two. How would he react knowing that they are his parents?

"Hmm I'll have to make a few calls, but I'm sure that might be something we can work out." The agent assures them. 

"Wonderful!" His dad's voice booms in the otherwise quiet hall. As he continues to speak his dad takes a step closer to his cell and places a hand on the glass, "Regardless though, we look forward to just being in the examination room tomorrow." 

The agent says something to that in response, but at this point there is nothing but a ringing in Danny's head. He doesn’t even react as they walk away. His dad's hand- the writing!

"-om Phantom!" Jason is calling out to him with a worried look. "You ok? You looked pretty out of it during all of that." 

"I'm fine." Danny smiles as he rationalizes all the information he just learned, "We're getting out of here." 

His parents are here and they're going to get him out of this nightmare place. It's only a matter of time now.

-

Robin watched from a nearby roof at the hotel room he was just at a couple of nights ago. Only this time the room was already occupied with three individuals instead of two.  Mason, Foley, and the newcomer, Jasmine Fenton. 

[lynnnvvn]

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

𝖢𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 — 𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜𝑢 𝐾𝑎𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑖 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

✧. ┊ synopsis —  you’re caught gawking a little too hard at a certain blond

✧. ┊    NSFW content, fem!reader, cock worship, oral (f giving), inexperienced reader, dirty talk, praise, nervous & shy reader etc.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Holy fuck.

We're all currently sitting in the common room after coming back from training, and everyone is gathered, talking about the new moves they've learned. Some are in the kitchen, while others are in the living room, picking out what movie to watch.

But I can't focus as mina's muffled voice is talking to the girls about going to the mall after school tomorrow.

But all i see is him.

In his tight tank top, showing off the hard training he's put his body through, with his arms and the veins on his hands. my god — his hands have me clenching my thighs just imagining them around me, crushing me, holding my waist, or better, my neck.

My gaze travels down his body, the baggy sweatpants hang low on his waist, wondering what he's hiding under those pants, my eyes going up his body, admiring him —

omg

As soon as I get to his face, we make eye contact, and I feel my heartbeat in my ears, my breathing slowly getting faster, his eyes slowly going up and down my body, smirking, and suddenly my body feels 10x hotter. I immediately look away, looking anywhere else but at him.

holy fuck he definitely caught me no way he didn’t i’ve been silently crushing on him since our 1st year we’ve gotten close but i’d never think he’d like me like that.

especially after I've been too shy, always backing out last minute when I wanna ask him if we could go out sometime , but I want him so bad.

This is so embarrassing, I need to leave now. I quickly make an excuse to Mina, something along the lines of I need to catch up on today's homework.

As I walk past him and the guys, I can feel his gaze burning into me, but I'm imagining it, yeah, he couldn't be.

As I'm turning the corner into my room, I feel a rough hand on my bicep and hear a rough —

"Y/n."

I look back and see Bakugou with a look in his eyes that looks like he's hungry, no, starving.

I gulp loudly, oh god, he definitely caught me. I speak with a breathy tone, "Yes?"

"You didnt think you'd actually get to walk away after you just fucked me with your eyes huh?"

"w-what? No, I wasn't. I don't know what you're talking about."

"yeah? so if i shove your panties down your pussy wouldn't be wet?"

I look at him with wide eyes as I lick my lips, as I breathe more loudly, suddenly lost for words.

"Maybe"

i say under my breath, then his lips are on me, rough and fast. I try keeping up with his pace, but he's kissing me like I'm going to disappear. If he pulls away, he grabs my neck, then I'm whimpering into his mouth as my fingers are tangled in his ash blonde hair.

"Bakugou, wait — someone could see."

"dont care" he says as he goes back to devouring me with his mouth then I feel him turning the knob on my door as he pushes me inside I'm starting to feel shy I've never done more than making out but I do know I need him in my mouth.

I pull away as I see a string of saliva connecting our lips together "Katsuki please i need you in my mouth" I say, trying to catch my breath, but then I see his questioning gaze and start to freak out. I definitely just should've kept my mouth shut.

"I mean it's okay if you don't feel comfortable, we can just kiss, but it's all I could think about when I was staring at you, just look so good, but I never done this well giving someone head or sex so actually maybe n -" he cuts my rambling with a kiss as I got anxious.

"shut up you sound like that damn nerd" he says "ill teach you if you really want to and if you don't we can just stop here"

I nod as I'm afraid my voice is gonna give away how nervous I am.

"Take my pants off," he says as he goes and sits down at my reading chair as I start walking towards him, feeling nervous, if I could please him, knowing how bad I want him to feel good.

I get on my knees, feeling the carpet rub against my knees as I grab his sweatpants, pulling them down slowly while staring at him as I can see his jaw clenching and his hooded eyes filled with lust like he's holding back —restraining himself.

As his sweats pool around his feet, my eyes widen in shock as he wasn't wearing any boxers — his dick sprung up and my god, its huge and thick and pretty — is that weird to say? oh well it’s long and thick you can see the pre cum leaking from his dark pink tip as its sliding down his length as two thick veins in each side.

I'm supposed to fit that into my mouth?

As he could sense my uneasiness, he grabbed my chin and tilted my head so I could look at him. "It's okay, baby, we can take it slow and gentle, hm? That sounds good?"

I nodded with a gaze as I looked down and place tiny kisses on his tip and lick the pre cum that fell down licking a strip all the way down then back up as I gently suck his tip as soft quiet grunts slip out his mouth.

"stop teasing —fuck" he lets out a soft moan "your mouth feels hmm so warm" as I put more of him in my mouth and feel the stretch on the sides of my mouth and the burn but I'm determined to make him feel good but then I pull back and he whines at the lost of my warm mouth.

"Am I doing well?" I ask in a raspy voice as I kiss his tip once again.

"so good baby, so good at sucking my cock keep it up and I will come all over your face"

"i want you to come in my mouth please"

"fuck baby don't say that shit its gonna make finish at an embarrassing rate-- FUCK" he says with a moan in the end as I take him all in my mouth as I start bobbing my head up and down hearing our sounds bounce of the walls of my room my gags and his grunts filling my room.

I feel his hips jerking as he grabs my hair with his both hands and thrust his dick in my mouth deeper than before and could hear his breathing getting faster as I feel my panties soaked hearing him feel good because of me my hand travles down into my shorts feeling how wet I truly am gathering the wetness and I start circling my clit.

Then I feel tears streaming down my face and my gag reflex getting louder as I grip his thighs, feeling my nails scratch against his skin, traveling up, feeling his hard abs.

"fuck baby just like taking me so deep down your throat-- hmph ohhh fuckkkk" he drawls out the last word as I dip two fingers inside of me curling them into my sweet spot moaning around his cock I could hear and feel him getting closer I start rubbing his balls with my other hand.

suddendly hes whimpering knowing hes close and I took my fingers out and start rubbing my clit faster "fuck fuck fuck im coming im com — ohhh yeahhh swallow it all just like that baby" feeling his warm salty cum go down my throat as he's coming back down from his high he pulls away.

"Let me see, open up baby, wanna see if you swallowed it all." I open my mouth to show him that I did, then I feel my high coming as I grab his thighs, then I feel my eyes roll back as I come with his name on my tongue "Katsuki!" I say as I feel my body convulse.

We were both breathing heavily, then I felt him pick me up and put me on his lap, and kissed the air out of me.

"so, how does a date this Friday sound?" he says after pulling away, and I just giggle and say yes, happier than ever

should've stared wayyy sooner.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

𝒈𝒖𝒍𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒎𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊’𝒍𝒍 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒔𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕💔

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝒎𝒘𝒂𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒂𝒍𝒍!!!

[jackattack20writes]

So first thing I wanna bring up with the Nyaan section is how they’ve set it up for Nyaan and Machu’s positions to be switched. Not only is Nyaan now the one living the “cushy” life but she also has the dressings of higher society and a “mother” who has specific plans for her without getting her input, while Machu’s now the “refugee” “wild child” on the run from the police. And just like Machu Nyaan doesn’t have an interest in the life being set up for her and struggles to connect with her “contemporaries.”

“I don’t really want to go to school”

Moving past that is just how the blatant attempts to make Nyaan happy just unnerve her, the most obvious we see being Xavier. Every word he says while well intentioned is clearly carefully chosen to be whatever he thinks will most appeal her to Zeon and Nyaan notices. She calls him out on how he changes his opinions on luck and skill before and after she’s able to operate the GFreD and he doesn’t have a response so he just goes quiet.

However these faux niceties peak even before this in the episode with Miguel and the cake. The scene starts with Miguel and Xavier acting all friendly and sort of trying to include Nyaan but she just hovers on the outside with conch speaking up once or twice to say how nice it is to have friends like them, friends that would bake them a cake. But even so Nyaan’s so seperate from the two that when they talk about her possibly dying she’s able to sneak up on them which I think was intentional to show just how outside of Zeon Nyaan truly is. Then the faux niceties continue until Miguel tries to kill Nyaan, he tries to kill Nyaan with the cake she was admiring him for cooking.

And this is just the piece de resistance of the ep and possibly the show. The cake looks good, it looks rich and tasty and has chunks of fruit and thick icing and according to Xavier it tastes good. On the surface just like Xavier’s friendship with his classmates, Zeon’s willingness to take in Nyaan, and Kycilia taking special interest to look after her. Almost like it’s supposed to be exactly what Nyaan wants in life just like Machu’s mother’s plans for her. Good friends that’ll make her a cake and a home. But the cakes poison and the friends are, if not outright trying to kill her, willing to put her in situations where she’ll die for no reason at all. The cake and Nyaan’s wider interactions in Granada are a much more overt violent version of Machu’s life for the first half of the show, something that looks good but underneath is poisoning her.

And the best part is, Nyaan can tell! She calls Miguel out as the murderer before vaporising him, she calls Xavier out for saying what he thinks she wants to hear and she starts thinking about going to earth as soon as she finds out Machu’s going there. Because Zeon was always a short term fix to get away from the cops in side 6. There’s a reason Nyaan either has a death grip on them or conch is sitting on her head the entire episode, she knows where she wants to be and it’s not in Zeon it’s with Machu and Shuji. And now that she’s knows that not only has Machu escaped from Sodon (everytime I think of this ship I have to correct myself from saying white base) but she has the Gquuuuuux and is heading to earth Nyaan is going to meet her there.

Because as Nyaan said Machu’s the real deal. The thing Nyaan has faith in isn’t Zeon, it’s Machu. After last episode and Nyaan’s words this ep it’s pretty clear Nyaan is holding herself responsible for what happened with Shuji, not only did she “fail” to get him to Machu, she “failed” to keep him safe. In her eyes Machu’s plan was perfect she just messed it up. So she ran because she couldn’t bear to face Machu with her failure, But now she has a Gundam of her own, so she can help Machu save Shuji from whatever happened and sure, she might feel stronger things for both of them than they do her(in her mind at least) but they’re the people she feels a home with and unless something changes wildly I don’t think anything Kycilia does will convince Nyaan otherwise.

(PS. Like I think there’s a point to Nyaan specifically calling out Miguel for betraying Xavier and killing their friends and how much trust they would’ve had in him because Nyaan thinks she did basically the same to Machu with Shuji. I couldn’t really fit that in with the cake stuff but it felt important to mention.)

TLDR. Nyaan and Machu have swapped social standing and and social situations and Nyaan has no allegiance to anything other than the dense bisexual tomato and in her eyes she can’t do anything wrong.

[ticklefighthockey]

jes!!!! hi hello. relatively new hrpf reader/blogger here. it recently occurred to me that my faves mr great 8 and natemac have, like, never overlapped ever not once in any of the fan media i’ve browsed. what are your thoughts on these two? irl dynamic predictions or where you’d see them connect in an rpf verse. i humbly come to you begging for crumbs of my big alpha dawg favies 💗

first of all welcome to hrpf second of all thank you for giving me the incredible gift of getting to imagine natemac(????)/OVI?????? for the first time ever. that is not a pairing that has ever graced my mind palace before but I am VERY MUCH enjoying thinking about it now ahaha. ok some scattered thoughts:

the one canon “interaction” I can think of is that video of sid and nate where sid’s holding hockey cards up to his forehead and nate’s describing the guy trying to get sid to guess him. and nate goes “you and him have been getting really close lately” or something like that and sid says, with a little giggle and a slutty voice crack, “ovi?” and you can see a series of expressions flit over nate’s face like he was Not Expecting the slutty voice crack & giggle combo over Alexander Ovechkin and does he need to investigate further what’s been going on there. (the actual answer was mitch marner.) so while that’s not exactly a direct interaction I think it is telling ahaha. I feel like nate is intensely jealous of anyone who monopolizes sid’s attention and ovi is a big cheerful charismatic totally shameless presence who has been periodically barreling through sidney crosby’s life and wreaking havoc on sidney crosby’s sexual psyche with his wolfish magnetism since sid was 18 years old so like. I imagine nate would VERY much want to JUST KEEP TABS on sid’s interactions with ovi.

I feel like nate would NOT know what to make of ovi in a social context. they are big alpha dawgs in such opposite ways. nate is the angry intense domineering alpha dog who will carry his pack on his back through the blizzard or whatever and like yes he will keep everyone alive but he will do so by occasionally losing his shit and yelling at pack members who don’t fall in line because he’s fucking TRYING TO KEEP EVERYBODY FUCKING SAFE ALL RIGHT. this is a man who has never once relaxed in his entire life. even when he is with sidney crosby, the man who makes him more relaxed and human than almost anyone else, nate is still on some level tensely scanning the surrounding environment nonstop to make sure there are no threats approaching who might jeopardize his relaxing human time with sidney crosby. alexander ovechkin, by contrast, was born relaxed. I’m not saying this man doesn’t have cares but he is like, existentially carefree in ways that natemac couldn’t imagine in his wildest dreams. ovi is an alpha dawg but in a big cheerful slobbery wolf kind of way�� he nips ya and wrestles and pins ya down if he needs to and sure he’ll draw his lip back in a warning snarl every now and then if things are getting out of line but he is fundamentally not threatened by other dogs… in fact the idea of being threatened by them would baffle and amuse him. I do think he would get a real kick out of baiting nate just a little. just for fun. and then if nate tried to bite him for real he’d just scruff him like a pup until nate shook himself free and slunk off scowling to tend to his wounded pride in peace. sorry idk why they’re suddenly dogs and not just dawgs in this post I think it’s just the universe speaking through me telling you that these men are obviously both werewolves.

for nate/ovi as a SHIP I have the easiest time imagining them in some kind of triangulated situation with sid lol. sid doesn’t necessarily have to be PRESENT for this to work but he is somehow what brings them together. I think the sex is athletic and involves a lot of wrestling that is play-wrestling for ovi and deadly serious ‘I will put you in a headlock and choke you out before I let you pin me’ wrestling for nate but ovi wins and it doesn’t kill nate. it’s actually good for him. older alpha dawg knows what he needs, which is to get scruffed by a cheerful older alpha dawg who doesn’t take himself or sex too seriously. this isn’t a ship with a lot of long-term romance potential in my mind but I do think if nate can be fixed through sex ovi might be the one capable of doing it.

[mumms-the-word]

There’s a minor masterstroke of genius that I think Clair Obscur does that isn’t talked about quite as much as the grief stuff and that’s how connected creatives feel to their creations

you get to the end of the game and realize you have put so much emotional work into loving and appreciating and laughing with and mourning with these characters who who are nothing more than paint (in the canvas world) and pixels (in our world). and then you’re met with that choice at the end that dares to ask you, are the lives of these painted (pixel) people worth saving? do they have value? is their value more or less or equal to that of “real” lives?

I say “real” in scare quotes here because, well, what is real for Alicia/Maelle is still not real for us

And there may be a hint that the Writers who caused the fire that killed Verso and scarred Alicia are actually the game writers, which adds an extra layer, right? In a meta way it is almost like it asks us “what if characters truly do have lives of their own and they are aware of how our arbitrary or intended plot decisions affect their lives and psyches?”

The difference here is that no one intentionally painted Gustave, Lune, or Sciel. They were born into this canvas world. Maelle was born into the canvas world too and got to experience it as something no different than them. It’s a huge part of why Alicia/Maelle looks at everyone in the painted canvas and believes they are genuinely living people worthy of living out bright and beautiful futures.

And honestly, the game doesn’t make it easy to dismiss that idea. People are born, and grow, and die in Lumiere and the surrounding landscape. Generations have passed. More than 67 years have gone on inside the canvas—centuries if you can believe Esquie

The characters don’t feel like pale imitations of humanity and that’s part of the reason Maelle finds it so hard to let go. Painted Verso is real to her. Even if he’s not her real brother Verso, he’s still a real person, just made of paint and ink instead of flesh and blood. Losing him (and Lune, and Sciel, and Gustave) hurts no differently than losing her flesh and blood brother. Why treat them as anything less than human?

Maelle’s ending is meant to be unsettling because when she paints everyone back into existence there’s this hint that they’re missing the one thing that makes them seem human rather than static characters—they almost appear to be missing their autonomy and their free will apart from their painted creator. If nothing else, they lack control over their deaths, because Maelle can just paint them back into existence if they die.

Even if they don’t want to be alive.

But at that point, are they Maelle’s characters now? Are they simply her interpretation of them, and not truly themselves? have they become static, because Maelle won’t let them live their lives freely, and thus they’ve lost the things that make them seem more human?

the game doesn’t give us easy answers but man I keep thinking about how the game sets up these hypothetical, meta questions about the relationships between creatives and their creations, not just in terms of art, but in terms of writing and characters too

[synthient]

Mirror Theory and Reality War

Here's a lens for reading Doctor Who series 15:

"Mirror," as I use it here, means a side character who reflects some key aspect of a main character. This is a useful technique for revealing or foreshadowing something about that main character which would otherwise be hidden.

Every episode of this season has featured a mirror that reflects...let's call them Character X, for the moment.

I say "a" mirror, but each mirror of Character X so far has actually been a double-mirror - either two personas of the same person (like Alan and AI Generator), or two characters who are literally different people, but metaphorically kind of the same person (like Omo and Adétòkunbo, aka the barber and the Barber).

If we examine each mirror, it will tell us something about the finale.

The Robot Revolution's mirror: Alan/AI Generator

Beneath that scary mask, there's a Man Behind The Curtain. It's your shitty high school boyfriend, and he wants you to marry him.

Lux's mirror: Lux as Mr. Ring-a-Ding/Lux as Helen Pye

There's a monster, and you can't stop feeding it. It's an evil cartoon, but sometimes it takes the form of your dead wife. If it tried to leave its tiny prison, the world outside would destroy it. It still wants to be free. It will encourage you to destroy yourself freeing it, so you can burn together. It will do this by saying "Find me."

The Well's mirror: Aliss/It Has No Name

One person made it out of the massacre. She's the survivor, and she's the killer. It would be simpler if you could separate the two out - victim and monster, light and shadow. But you can't. She killed, and she survived, and she exposed her homeworld to contamination, and she wants to see her daughter again.

Lucky Day's mirror: Conrad (undercover) and Conrad (unmasked)

Your perfect new boyfriend is lying to you. He has an agenda. He wants to supplant your reality, to be the one telling the story. And he didn't take the antidote.

The Story & the Engine's mirror: Omo (the barber)/Adétòkunbo (the Barber)

He is not a god. He's lying! It's true, through, that he's responsible for the gods' power. That they exploited him and denied him credit. That one of the gods was an abusive parent to his partner. But even if his revenge quest nearly destroyed the world, maybe he doesn't need to die for his sins. Maybe he just needs a new start, and a new name.

The Interstellar Song Contest's mirror: Kid/Wynn

Is the Doctor right? Is Kid just a monster who loves to kill? Or is he missing vital context? (Also, did Cora and Wynn have a little bit of a lesbian thing going on? And if Wynn and Kid are metaphorically the same person, then why did they make out?)

Wish World: Mrs. Flood/The Rani

We went to high school together. People said we were lovers - can you remember if that's true? We should be friends. It's just you and me, we're the last ones left.

Does all of this feel...familiar?

Discussion questions:

Is there a Man Behind The Curtain? Is someone lying about being a god? If so, who is it?

We keep bringing up the destruction of the time lords. We also keep bringing up a motif of "contamination," refused antidotes, a sickness that spreads. Could those two things be connected? How?

Omega is trapped in the anti-matter universe. If he tried to leave, the world outside would destroy him. What might that mean for our story? What different endings have been offered for our mirrors?

Who is The One Who Is Lost? Does that sound a bit like "find me"? How might the two be related?

If the Rani's plan was to make the Doctor doubt, then why was Rogue's message also about getting the Doctor to doubt? How could Rogue have known that the tables were doing that?

Alan wants a wedding. In what other context have weddings come up recently?

There has been a lot of focus in this run on puns, anagrams, and meaningful names. What kind of name-reveal do you think this story might be able to get out of the name Omega? (Hint: O Mega)

Who is Character X?

[glowstickspinalfluid]

pokemon it would be fun to send to hisui with ingo (long ass post because i also explain why i want to send them to hisui, bear with me here):

his chandelure (self explanatory, ingo says himself in game that he knows she'd help guide people through the highlands alongside him; i dont think the clans know what a chandelier is, almost everyone's reaction to her is what tf is that thing; ghost type shenanigans with iscan and sabi; chandelure and lady sneasler gossip buddies; chandelure loves tangrowth for being able to make ingo go to bed in a way that's safe to do more than one day in a row; ingo and chandelier's connection could let him remember more??)

his haxorus (massive intimidating dragon type with axe blades coming out of its face standing next to a mysterious, strange and boldly dressed warden with glowing eyes and facial hair that almost matches the pokémon's mouth blades. they reek of power. the moment someone works up the courage to approach them, they are both incredibly polite and the dragon begs you for head scritches; i think haxorus and lady sneasler would be best friends.)

emmet's eelektross ("these are the wardens of the highlands, they tend to lord electrode and lady sneasler" "oh so the one with the electric partner is warden to lord electrode and the one with the poison partner is warden to the poison type-" "no."; melli and ingo get along better because they both can see how the other has some respect for their noble; i love eelektross; also having his brother's pokemon could jog his memory more; silly electric noodle guy; emmet and chandelure are stuck together doing whatever they're doing, could be eeby deebied elsewhere in the same position, could be looking for ingo together, either way very fun)

one of emmet's joltiks (ingo wasn't aware he even had a joltik on him; as soon as he's lucid enough to notice, the joltik gets named stowaway; taking care of this little menace requires ingo to remember a lot of his pokemon knowledge more quickly, ends up going to the highlands to see lord electrode and the voltorblings fairly often to keep her fed. once again i'm making melli and ingo closer than canon; eventually she evolved into a galvantula, but for now she is a very innocent looking ball of chaos no one quite knows how to deal with; main reason ingo decides to use pokeballs before he really remembers that he's used to using them)

no offense to the rest of his pokemon but i think they'd come across better as just there to help out and chill instead of strong and competitive as they really are. they'd all be nice to send with ingo so he's got a buddy and something to remember his home by. garbodor would be reallllly weird to everyone there and melli would respect the poison typing, klingklang would be a little out of place as a clan warden's partner, but that's about it. if any of yall absolutely love the idea of sending other pokemon to hisui with ingo that would be super duper cool but this is all i got

[spread-the-influence]

How does the virus function? Patient zero is the most affected at the moment with it having near total control over her, more as a suggestive force that alters her inhibitions and exploits any vulnerabilities (her relationship with pomni) , but the fucking brainworms™ are more than willing to wipe the slate clean if the host starts to question the delusion too much and make them complacent with delusion. however, it seems entirely beholden to its host, and if the host decide it wants to die, well said fucking brainworms™ are doomed. the effects seem to vary from host to host, for gangle it was like a parasite that she just had to remove, for jax it seems to make him almost feral (most likely manipulating memories to increase aggression) as for kinger, it seems to be almost binding, like the virus is struggling to organize the code and more unable to actively attack. does it act similar to a fungus? Building a network of hosts and carriers who function according to degree of infection, since ragatha seems more then capable of understanding them it would suggest more of a hivemind network. Ragatha is at the later (potentially final stages) of the infection, much like how a fungus replaces peices of its host, and when the primary host dies, would it migrate to one of the other hosts, making them sort of carriers. players and npcs are extremely complex that the fucking brainworms™ are more than able to attach to and gradually replace (like the ship of thesus) but what happens if it infects something else, say Gangle's mask. while it's not a player character, it is both a player model, and a player asset that affects behavior. if say the fucking brainworms™ were wiped out via washing machine. could it build its own self from that character model with the pieces its ripped from the others, Gangles ribbon like movement, Jax's sight, and so forth. ultimately i wonder if the virus is more like a virological pathogen, akin to flu, or more organized and fungal in nature. and if it is organized, how organized, is it capable of forming a hivemind? (Sorry for the tangent, and the wall of text, can't wait to see more!)

oh boy ! wonderful questions , this is going to also be a long one .

the reason i often call it The Evil Fucking Worms is because it's based off Computer Worms ! (: it's not one-to-one as the influence Needs a host unlike actual computer worms , but they do share the need to spread , infiltrating Several potential hosts , and being a pain in the Ass to remove .

which means it is essentially an Evil Digital ( Kind Of ) Fungus . it latches itself into a host , have them spread the virus , and create a network ! however it inevitably means they have a top-down approach ..... so the entire thing will Fall Apart if the host goes ...... they are capable of migrating , of course , but that thing's Not immediate . if ragatha was shot in the head , either by someone else or her own volition , the virus instantly goes away and the circus is saved !!!!! we also have one casualty but let's not talk about that —

it's not smart . if they were in the virus olympics they would score last place . but in all fairness , they aren't Sentient or have Consciousness . they're just Functions trying to complete the specific task of Infecting . i like to think that in the process of taking over their host to create an exit , they got stuck . and tried to solve the problem by essentially going Oh Shit Oh Fuck just keep spreading I'm sure it'll solve the issue ( It Didn't )

so even if it infected a player model nothing would happen if the primary host got anti-virus'd . on another note , i feel a player model getting infected first would indirectly infect the player it's connected to . and subsequently make them the primary host .

player models , to me , are pieces that connect to a whole , and the player's brain is a part of that whole unfortunately .

i do Love the idea of it building itself a body through the pieces it ( read : ragatha ) took from the others , though , but it relies too much on its primary host to even bother with that kind of thing . unlike real worms they aren't really smart . they lowkey kind of dumb ...... if they manifest they would just be a tiny squishy centipede ( or whatever other animal that would thematically be consistent with its host ) ..... ragatha's the only one with the braincell ....

a hivemind used to be possible , but i've downplayed a LOT of the virus because i wanted to give ragatha more agency — because i think it's more interesting if she Does things rather than Taking Orders from the worms in her brain . of course she would Never do this shit without the worms in her head , but she's not like being directly commanded to Kill y'know . right now , the only thing that's Kind Of hivemind-like is the infected being able to understand each other .

[fandoms-in-law]

The Plant

Summary: Turns out that having been through the Upside Down makes other countries more willing to share their secrets if you specialise in something connected to what they cover up the existence of. Steve finds this out just before Dustin finds a plant that could easily have killed him if he hadn't called his botanist big brother when he did.

Author's Note: Being honest, I scripted the last scene cause for whatever reason a while back amorentia (fuck JK) was in my head, specifically the scent thing. It didn't have a fandom it was connected too but then I thought the professor sounded like Steve might so everything before that was trying to lead to the scene I'd scripted. Sorry if that makes the jumps and description of scenes leading to it feel rushed.

~

Botany had never been part of Steve’s plan when he was young. When he finished high school he’d never have imagined being any kind of scientist at all and was mostly focused on keeping himself and everyone he cared for alive.

It hadn’t left much hope for any kind of future plans, but somehow they got through it, survived and let Erica and Max loose on the government officials trying to cover up how Hawkins was destroyed.

With minimal help from Joyce and Nancy the two girls got full ride college pay outs and a hefty amount of reward money for all involved on top of the already promised medical bills getting sorted.

Even after that, the beginning of Steve’s now illustrious scholarly career started one sleepover where neither he or Robin was managing to sleep much thanks to nightmares.

“I’m not letting you squander that full ride, Steven. Pack your things and lets go learn about late admissions.” She declared, rolling out of his bed to pull the suitcase out from under it.

Steve groaned, watching her, “No, what would I even study?”

“Figure it out there.” She countered pulling faces back at his exaggerated ones refusing.

He groaned again, but tried thinking it through more, knowing she’d probably bring this up later regardless. “Do you think I could find a science nerd able to explain that hive mind including vines?”

“Or figure it out yourself if you study natural sciences.” She offered, following the thought and shivering at a passing worry that thinking about what they’d been through might encourage their nightmares more. “But if you think you can explain the Upside Down without breaking the NDA, be my guest.”

Steve swatter at her as she climbed back on the bed.

That was the night that began his journey, without any specific college in mind, except that Robin would be by his side wherever they ended up.

~

Getting degrees was difficult even being able to work together while studying. Robin hadn’t expected to join Steve in his botany or that she could manage to do so and still keep learning her languages and practising her music.

Technically she would say she hadn’t. Instead, while Steve took the subject and specialist, getting a masters and then a doctorate all in botany, Robin did multiple bachelors degrees and was still considering which masters she wanted to take.

That never stopped her from being on Steve’s research teams and pulling him back to their focus any time he thought he’d found a clue about the vines from their teenage years.

~

Steve had been planning how to explain to Robin that their next research project likely didn’t have many people allowed to work on it, and that he planned to change that risking his entire career when his phone rang.

Dustin still kept in touch after all the years that had passed and still ended up giving Steve moments of terror so he was only hoping it was a normal check in when he answered it. “Hello?”

“Steve, I’ve found the coolest plant! It’s growing out of a deer corpse and smells so good! I want to eat it, because it’s like Ma’s lamb roast.”

“Do NOT eat that plant Dustin!” Chills ran through Steve as the scent was the last comment to make him sure the plant he’d only just learnt about the existence of was the one Dustin had found.

Dustin scoffed, “But-”

“IT WILL KILL YOU!” He yelled, “I read about it last week. Leave the area and warn everyone to stay away and avoid any plants that look like it.”

A disagreeing noise came back, “I didn’t tell you what it looked like.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “And? Do you want to die by plant?”

“Fine, but I’m sending you a picture of it and get to complain if you’re wrong.” Dustin grumbled, although he usually ended up sending Steve photos of the different plants he found when abroad regardless of whether they were wanted or not.

“Thank you.”

~

Robin got back to find suitcases out in their living room, one already filled with equipment to extract plants and other methods of collecting samples and Steve running between another with clothes.

“Where are you going so urgently?” She asked, seeing him pause to check flight tickets she was sure hadn’t been mentioned that morning.

“To Dustin. He found a plant that needs removing and the area nearby surveying for more like it.” He replied, holding out a second ticket to her.

She frowned at it, but turned to started getting her suitcase filled, noticing then that it was also laid out in the living room. “Why?”

“Smells like your favourite food to Alien style escape your stomach and use your corpse as fertiliser. Reports are of towns destroyed by it, but I was only allowed to see them because of Hawkins.” He described the plant as well as he could from what information had been shared, none of those files had included images, but as soon as he called the consulate he was told to go straight to where there was a suspected sighting and the government would ensure he was given a visa and papers enough to be able to make the area safe.

Robin looked at him in concern before frowning, “You’re planning classes on it, aren’t you?”

“Dustin almost ate its fruit. Yes, I’m telling everyone about this plant.”

“Hang on, isn’t Dustin-” She started to ask, actually reading the destination on her ticket now.

Steve nodded, “Yes. Apparently a lot of countries learnt about the Upside Down and how it backfired in America, so we might occasionally have information shared that isn’t shown to most people.”

“Want to try neutralising the plants spread?” Robin wondered. It was usually her or Dustin that attempted genetic experiments, but while Dustin was currently focused on learning about the many human cultures of the world, him being at threat from a plant would get Steve worried enough to attempt it.

He smirked at her, “Didn’t I tell you I’d secured funding for our next research paper?”

~

“Steve? Did you really rush getting travel approval because of a plant?” Dustin scoffed, stopping him as he was lead through town by one of the botanists native to the area.

Seeing his guide move to tell Dustin to leave, Steve held his hand up, “Yes, and we need to you show us exactly where you found it.”

Dustin rolled his eyes “Dude, it’s just a plant. It’s not like-”

“It easily could be like Hawkins, without the separate dimension. Let us confirm that and you can go back to your travels.” Steve interrupted, knowing the patience of his guide was thin and the situation could be dire if there was more than one plant around.

~

Dustin had found the plant. He’d actually almost eaten the fruit of a plant that had found its own way to eat meat, arguably worse than the venus fly traps since it needed to be eaten to eat.

Beyond that, he’d actually found only the closest plant to the city of a colony of them that could have wiped the city out if it hadn’t been caught when it was. The country was thankful to Steve for acting quickly after the phone call and were even discussing sharing their information on the plant more openly now.

That had been why he was able to return to the USA with a carefully contained, slowly dying example of the plant and an approved lesson plan to share with his university’s students. He was only hoping that they would be rational about it.

Steve began his description with the clearest identifying feature excluding the appearance of it, “This plant smells like your favourite thing, so it smells differently to everyone. Does anyone want to share what they can smell?”

“So it smells like the person you’re in love with, right?” A girl near the front of the class called.

“No?” He couldn’t help his expression scrunching up in confusion and distaste at the idea. “Humans aren’t usually identified by scent so why would that be the case for a magical flower?”

The student smirked at him as she replied, “To help us find true love.”

He stared at her, very tempted to order her out of the hall, “What cliché have you been reading? No! It smells like something you love to eat so its seeds can use you as fertiliser and kill you! It’s called Sleeping Beauty’s flower because that’s how people appear in the early days of its growth. No happy endings to that fairytale. It’s decimated towns and is suspected that towns where the perfume industry and use is especially strong neighboured those wiped out by this flower.”

“Why bring it to school then?” A boy further back in the lecture hall called, “I have no sense of smell and hate teaching. Please someone eat it so I can be fired.” Steve stated deadpan. He knew that his classes were generally popular and wasn’t surprised when every face that had looked tempted to try eating the fruit was suddenly resolute not to.

Looking around for a moment more to see if anyone moved or asked something else, Steve changed the display he was showing, “Animals have spread how widely Sleeping Beauty’s flower is found and recently it once again was found near to a city. This one is from that time and is dying because we removed it from the body it was growing from too early, thankfully so far in that area it has only been animals like deer that have been found with the plant growing from them.”

Nobody spoke up for the rest of his lecture, everyone taking notes and paying attention to each display he offered. “Are there any questions?”

“Where is Sleeping Beauties flower from? Has it spread far?” One student asked, noticing something Steve had deliberately omitted from the lecture.

“Information on the plant isn’t widely shared. This is the first month when lessons have been approved to be given on it. That being said, only on the continent of Asia has this plant been sighted so far as I’ve been informed.”

[skzimagines]

Characters: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Slow burn.

Warnings: SMUT! MDNI 18+ , Physical fights.

Summary: Hyunjin and Y/N give in..

"Are you sure about this?" Hyunjin asks, closing the hatch of the transit van you two have converted into your new home for the next few months.

"I don't think I've ever been so sure about anything in my life." I say with a smile.

Hyunjin let's out a sigh that I cant quit tell is due to relief or dread from my answer.

Hyunjin and I have been best friends for a little over a year now... yes, best friends. People around us have called us platonic soulmates. The day we met, we connected like no other and we've been inseparable since.

One night of hanging out, lead to hours of conversation about seeing all of our favorite spots in the US. One thing led to another and now here we are, a van, clothes, both of our entire savings and whatever else we saw fit to bring on the adventure.

Our first stop was the Yellowstone national park.

"Well, let's hit the road. Who's driving first?" He asks.

"I'll do it until it gets dark. Unless you want me to roll the van, astigmatism is no joke."

He let's out a laugh before handing me the keys.

~

6 hours have gone by and we're still on the road. Hyunjin has fallen asleep in the passenger seat a while ago. The last 6 hours have been filled with talks of site seeing, camping and hiking. We still haven't stopped to get anything to eat, which comes to mind at the sound of my stomach going off on me. It's starting to get dark, so I ask siri to navigate us to the nearest rest stop.

A few minutes later, I pull into the rest stop and put the van in park.

"Hyun..." I say softly, shaking him gently to wake him.

He sits up and groans as he opens his eyes, the neon green sign illuminating his face.

"My turn?" He asks, his voice hoarse from deep sleep.

"There's food inside too." I state, handing him the keys as I unbuckle.

"Thank god!" He yells dramatically, a laugh escaping my throat.

We make our way inside the little convenient store. It was a weird feeling being somewhere other than our little home town. We scan the isles, grabbing as many snacks as we could before taking them to the check out.

"$67.98 is your total." The little old lady tells us as she bags our things.

At the same time as me, hyunjin pulls out his wallet.

"I'll pay." He says.

"No, I got it, don't worry." I say, pulling money from the zipper. Before I can put it on the counter, he places his money down.

"You're such a cute couple, I've been married for 46 years, communicating is the biggest thing to keep a strong relationship." The lady says, grabbing the money with a smile and handing us our bags.

I can feel my cheeks burning as hyunjin grabs the bags from her.

"Well, good thing we have perfect communication skills." Hyunjin says, returning a smile to her, before telling her to have a great night.

We head back out to the van and hyunjin opens up the back. We both climb in, taking our shoes off and climb into the bed we've sat up in the back.

"Where are we?" He asks, emptying out the bags in front of us.

"Colorado." I state, grabbing a sucker and popping it into my mouth. He grabs one as well.

"Well, I think under Colorado state law, we're supposed to be married." He says with a smirk.

It's no lie that Hyunjin and I have feelings for one another, but we've both decided it's best for the both of us that we keep our amazing friendship. We'd rather have each other as friends, than nothing at all.

"You wish." I joke.

"Well, if we're not married or with anyone by the time we're 30, we will marry each other." He says, standing up and taking his shirt off and throwing it into the hamper at the end of the bed.

"Why are you getting naked, and what makes you think I want to be married in the first place?" I laugh.

"Well, number one. Don't act like you don't like it and two, I quite frankly don't want to do these things with anyone else." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in mankind.

He reaches over to grab his tote that has all of his clothes in it, and i can't help but watch as his muscles flex as he moves. He's gotten bigger in the months leading up to this adventure. He said he needed to get more fit before we did this, in case he had to fight off a bear while we were camping. I let out a small chuckle at the remembrance of the conversation.

"You want one?" He asks, holding up one of his hoodies.

"It's alright, mine are right under yours, I'll grab it out in a few minutes." I say before taking a sip of water.

Suddenly the hoodie is hanging over my head. He'd thrown it at me.

"Just put it on, weirdo." He laughs.

After we change and eat, we head back up to the front seat, this time Hyunjin's driving.

"Ready?" He asks while starting the engine.

"As I'll ever be." I smile, buckling my seatbelt.

And just like that, we're back on the road.

Another 5 and a half hours on the road has exhausted me. I let out a yawn and lean my head back in the seat.

"You alright?" He asks, not taking his eyes off the highway. Looking at the same old road for the past 11 hours has been beyond boring.

"Just really tired." I say, another yawn escaping.

"Climb in the back and lay down love, I'll be okay." He says.

My heart tightens at the pet name, he always uses it. But it never fails to have an effect on me.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

He lets out a hum of reassurance.

I don't think twice before climbing into the back and nestling into our bed full of blankets. It doesn't take long before I drift to sleep.

~

I wake to the feeling of the van being put in park. Too tired to move, I heard Hyunjin's door open and close. I quickly sit up to see where we are. It's still dark outside. We've stopped at another rest stop. I see Hyunjin from the corner of my eye, open the back of the van.

"Good morning sunshine." He chuckles.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"5am, you gotta pee?" He asks, grabbing a small bag from one of his totes.

"Yeah."

I stretch and grab my toiletries before making my way out of the van and letting out another stretch. I suddenly feel his arms warp around my shoulders and bring me closer to him.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, just need a hug." He says softly.

I turn around to bring him into an actual hug. We stay this way for a few seconds.

"Alright, let's go freshen up." I say.

We make our way to the bathrooms and meet each other back at the van.

As I make my way back up to the van, I notice Hyunjin holding a book in his hand. My heart begins to thump harder as I come to realize... It's my diary. I quickly run up to him and rip it from his hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, slamming the book shut and bringing it to my chest, as if I kept it there long enough, he'd completely forget about it.

"It was laying out, I thought it was pictures or something." He says in defence.

"Okay? You couldn't have put it back when you notice no pictures were in it?" I ask, a bit of anger written in my voice.

There's no avoiding the fact that almost every page in this thing is about him, stupid me, should have left it back home. But I wasn't planning on having it out in the open.

"Well, when you see your name on something, you're bound to reading it." He shrugs.

"Just, just don't touch this, okay!" I say, shoving it back into my bag.

"Are... are we having our first fight?" He asks, a smirk plastered on his face.

"No! It's just, a hugs invasion of privacy!" I argue back.

"Yup... our first fight." He smiles.

I let out a grunt before climbing back into the van and shutting the door in his face.

He quickly opens it back up and climbs in beside me. My face is hidden under the blankets as I hear him shut the van door and climb into the bed next to me.

"Hey..." He says, his voice less taunting and more gentle. "You know, you can probably get more answers from me, than you would a book."

He slowly pulls the blanket from my face.

"We've already talked about this..." I say, fully defeated.

"That doesn't mean we cant talk about it again... remember? Communication is key to a great relationship." He smiles, quoting the older lady from the first stop.

I playfully slap his arm and he let's out a laugh.

"I'm serious though." He says.

"There's, not really much else to say." I say quietly.

"Well, you talking about how nice my lips are in your little love journal says otherwise." He chuckles.

"OH my god! Let's go!" I say, getting up and climbing to the front of the van. Leaving him on the bed laughing.

~

WE'VE ARRIVED! Finally after being on the road for almost a whole 24 hours, we've reached Yellowstone. We've both agreed to get a nice hotel room while we were here, to soak up a shower and a real bed before heading to our next destination, which will be even longer.

Hyunjin and I are sat at a little diner in some small town we've come across while searching for a hotel to stay at. At this point we're both frantically searching through booking apps on our phones.

"And a gift for the lovely couple!" The waitress says happily as she sets down a milkshake with two straws to share it right in the middle of us.

Hyunjin bursts out a laugh, throwing his head back. The waitress looks at him like he's gone mad. "Hyunjin!" I shout, "I am so sorry, thank you!" I tell the waitress, as Hyunjin hurdles over and sets his head on the table... still laughing. She gives me a worrying look before walking away.

"Really?!" I whisper. "You made that woman think your nuts!"

Hyunjin finally contains himself. He sits up and clears his throat.

"I'm sorry. That's just crazy." He laughs again.

"What... that you made a poor old woman run away in embarrassment?" I ask.

"No... it's crazy that I keep ending up in places with the girl I like, who keeps getting called my girlfriend, but she just doesn't want to talk to me about it." He says nonchalantly, while sliding the milkshake toward him and taking a sip.

The words are ripped from my mouth, and I'm left speechless. I hate the fact that he's been so adamant that this whole 'I'm in love with you, but don't cross the line' thing is all my fault, when he's the one that came out saying he didn't want to lose our friendship first. I just played along with it.

"You know what else is crazy? I keep ending up in places with the guy I like, getting called his girlfriend, but he doesn't want to commit." I snap back.

Hyunjin stares at me in disbelief.

"We should go." I say, grabbing my phone and leaving him in the booth.

I head back to the van before an older man stops me.

"Excuse me ma'am!" He jogs up to me. "Do you know how to get to the nearest gas station?" He asks.

"Umm... I'm not actually from here, so I'm not sure. I think I might have saw one a few miles back that way on the GPS, but I can't be sure." I say, giving him a small smile.

"Could you come to my car with me real fast? My GPS isn't working, maybe you could help me with it?" He asks, grabbing for my arm.

I quickly pull it away and my heart starts to race. "Um... I have to get going, but there's someone over there that could possibly help." I point over to a man standing outside smoking.

"I've already asked him, he said no." He say's. "Just come with me real quick, it won't take long." He reaches for my arm again.

"Hey!"

Him and I both look at where the voice is coming from.

'Thank god!' I say in my head.

I physically let the boulder fall from my shoulders as Hyunjin walks up to us.

"Is he bothering you?" Hyunjin asks, looking at me but pointing at the guy.

I clear my throat, noticing the guys piercing gaze on me. "N...no, he uhh... needed directions." I stuttered out.

"Yup, exactly that. I was just going." The guy says, giving me one last dangerous look before starting to walk away.

I let out a relieved sigh before heading toward Hyunjin. But before I could register what was happening, Hyunjin runs up to the man and pushes him.

"You think your funny?" Hyunjin yells at the man.

The man turns around with a huge grin on his face.

"Ooohh tough guy huh?" He chuckles.

"Keep your fucking hands off my girl." Hyunjin, at this point, is seething.

Watching the two getting more worked up by the minute. This guy is much bigger than Hyun. Hyun's not small, his arms have grown significantly in the past few months, again, fighting bears idea. But, this guy is huge.

"Hyunie...Let's just go, okay? Come on!" I say, begging.

"Your bitch is talking to you." The man says, getting right up in Hyunjin's face.

"Huh?" Hyunjin asks. I watch as his hand turns into a fist. his knuckles white.

"I said... Your B-"

In faster than lightning, Hyunjin pulls up his fist, laying right into the mans right cheekbone, sending the guy stumbling backward.

Hyunjin quickly turns around and runs straight toward me, grabbing my arm and dragging me with him. We run as fast as we can, literally jumping into the van. Right as Hyunjin backed up and put it in drive, the man caught up to the van and Hyunjin sped away.

I try to catch my breath, watching the man get further away as Hyunjin drove.

"What..the fuck was that!" I scream.

"Fucking bastards lucky I didn't run him over!" He says quietly.

"Hyunjin..." I say, letting out another adrenaline filled sigh.

"What?" He asks, making a random turn.

I let out a laugh, causing him to look over at me with a smile.

"What?" he asks again with a chuckle.

"That was so hot of you!" I say with a huge smile.

"Yeah? You want to see me lay out more creeps at random diners?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me with a laugh.

I follow right along with him as he laughs.

We both let out a dramatic sigh as our laughing ends and we fall in silence.

We pull over to the side of the road and pull out Hyunjin's phone to find directions to a hotel.

~

"Finally!" I say, throwing my bags to the hotel floor and throwing myself on to the bed, landing on my stomach.

Hyunjin lets out a chuckle and follows me the same way. As he lands, his hand lands on top of mine. But he doesn't move it. His skin is soft. I slowly move my finger and he moves his with mine, until they all interlock into each other.

"So... you're girl, huh?" I ask quietly.

Hyunjin lets out a hum before sitting up and looking at me, still holding my hand. He just looks at me, like we're the only people left in the world. His eyes are so dark, as if I look hard enough into them I can see our future together.

"You always have been." He says gently.

It felt like a movie, like everything went still, the world paused around everything he was saying. He moved in slow motion.

"You always have been, and always will be." He leans over the bed and takes my mouth to his. The kiss is deep, so deep our teeth clash together. His hand curls into the back of my hair, the other motions me to roll on my back.

His hand immediately finds its way up my shirt, resting against my hip, he gives it a small squeeze. Keeping his lips on mine as he does.

My hands quickly go into his hair. My first thought was about what it would have felt like before he got his buzz cut. Always wanting to rub my hand through it at that time, but never being able to. The thought causes me to grip onto his hair in the moment. Causing a light groan to leave his lips.

"God I wish we'd done this forever ago." He groans out before attacking my neck with his mouth. He slowly makes his way down my chest, right before my shirt. My hands never stop running through his hair. He looks up at me with the sexiest eyes id ever see him make. He slowly takes the top of my shirt into his mouth and drags it lower down, right until my boob starts to show and he connects his mouth to it, sucking a bright red hickey into it.

My head fly's back and a whimper slips through my lips at the sensation that shoots right through me, down to my core.

I feel his hands slip into my shirt and slowly pull it up. I sit up to help him pull it over my head before laying back down. "God, you are so beautiful." He whispers, more to himself than me. He dives his head down, licking a slow stripe up my stomach. He makes his way all the way up before taking my mouth into his once again.

I feel him shuffle around, being to lost in the way his mouth tastes and the way his tongue moves around with mine. I don't notice what he's doing until I feel his hand move my shorts and panties to the side. His finger moves slowly right up my slit and presses into my clit. I pull away from the kiss and let out a yelp. He smiles a wicked grin as he drags his finger back down and slowly pushes it inside of me.

"You're so wet baby..." He whispers. His jaw falls slack as he feels me drip for him.

"That all because of me?" He asks with a smirk.

I nod my head, too drawn out by the feeling of his finger inside of me as it wiggles back and forth slowly.

"Talk to me baby, did I make you this wet?" He whispers, bringing his head down, taking my neck between his lips, making yet another mark.

"Y..yes Hyunjin.." I moan out.

"Yes what, baby?" He asks from my neck.

"You make me so wet." I sigh.

"Good." he says, right into my ear as he pulls his hand from inside me and grabs his member. Bringing it up to me and running it through my folds, before burying himself inside me.

He wastes no time slamming into me. I let out a loud cry, a sharp feeling of pleasure shooting through my body as he pounds into me aggressively. I've completely lost myself at this point. The feeling shooting straight through me every single time he grinds back into me causes my brain to go limp.

My cries become whimpers as my high reaches its peak, being so fucked out, my brain doesn't register as I come over my high, my mouth hangs open but nothing comes out. My body buzzes and everything comes to end. Hyunjin milks himself a few times before pulling out and laying next to me, pulling me to his chest.

He lays kisses to the top of my head, cheek, forehead. Everywhere his mouth can reach.

A giggle leaves my throat as I lay against him, exhausted.

"You can't go to sleep." He whispers. Kissing the top of my head again and

"Mmm... why not?" I groan.

"We have to go to the CVS." He chuckles.

"What could we possibly need from the CVS right now?" I complain.

He lets out another chuckle before pulling him into him again.

"As much as I'd love to have my babies with you... I want to travel with you first, then we can." He smiles.

The realization hits me and I let out an "Ah"

~

We're browsing the isles, looking for the condom isle. After looking through a few more shelves, we find it.

"Wow! What do you think people do with this?" He asks, grabbing and holding up a massive condom. As I laugh at him, I notice his face drop as he looks over my shoulder. I look behind me to where he's looking and see a little old lady watching us in horror.

My hand covers my mouth as I turn around and pull Hyunjin's arm down that holds the dildo, taking it from him and throwing it back onto the shelf before pulling him away.

"I can't believe that just happened to me..." He says with pure disappointment. I finally let out my laugh I've been holding in.

~

We made it through the rest of our CVS trip without scaring off more old ladies and made it back to the hotel room.

Hyunjin lays with his back resting against the head board of the bed. "So, it just stops everything?" He asks, as I hold the pill in my hand.

"I hope so?" I say, knowing there's always that 1% chance, as it advertises on the front of the box.

"wait... what if we do it again?" I ask. Sitting on the bed next to him, setting the pill on the nightstand.

"Oh?" he smirks. I playfully slap his leg and he lets out a laugh.

"I mean, shouldn't we do it again before I take it?" I ask, climbing into his lap.

"As much as I want to take you all in right now..." He squeezes my ass between both his hands before rubbing over it gently. I feel his hand reach over to the table. He grabs the pill and brings it up to my mouth. "You need your rest, cause we have a long day tomorrow." I roll my eyes and he smiles. "Now open." He whispers.

I stick my tongue out, as seductively as I could. He brings his finger onto my tongue, placing the pill in the middle of it, before he can pull it away, I bring his finger into my mouth and run my tongue around it, before pulling it out with a pop and swallowing the pill.

"You're going to be the death of me." He whispers.

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing ch36 - the final chapter! AO3

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

-

Jonah grabbed John by the hair, causing a pained noise that was half a sob to escape him as he jerked his head back. He might have felt humiliated, having his friends see him like this, but the terror was choking out anything else. He wanted to tell them to run, to get as far away from here as they could, but he couldn’t make himself speak. 

“John!” Martin cried, like he loved him, like he needed him to be okay, and John wanted to scream, because didn’t he know that was how he felt about him? Didn’t he know he’d done all this to try to keep him safe? Why did he have to throw himself back into danger? Martin was the one who was good, who deserved to be safe. 

“Let him go,” Tim snarled in a voice John hadn’t imagined him capable of, especially not in defense of him of all people. He wasn’t worth this. 

“Interesting,” Jonah said, studying them. “You all realize I could make this very unpleasant for all parties. Or I could make it worth your while to turn around and leave.”

“No!” Martin exclaimed, fury in his voice. 

“We’re not leaving without our friend,” Georgie said.  

John shook his head frantically, because Jonah was right, there was no possible way he could be worth this. They were supposed to stay away, to stay safe, and now they were here, risking their lives, all because of him and John’s chest clenched painfully at the thought of anything happening to them. He could feel the tears streaming down his face and he thought he might be sick from the pure terror and anxiety of it all. He couldn’t protect them, and this was all his fault. Martin made eye contact with him and John sobbed openly, knowing but so terrified of what he was going to say next, silently begging him to just go so he would be safe. 

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave him here,” Martin said. “He means everything to me. I won’t abandon him.”  

A strangled sound escaped John as he felt like he was shattering to pieces inside. There were no words to describe how all that made him feel. There was appreciation and relief, guilt along with the terror of the situation and the real possibility of losing Martin for good. And seeing the others standing at Martin’s side, all willing to fight for him— he had never done anything in his life to warrant such loyalty. 

“While I’m sure this is all very touching, I really don’t have the time for such saccharine displays.” 

Jonah raised a hand towards them and John could feel the building of power as he prepared to unleash death on everyone in his life that he cared about. With a terrified cry, he grabbed his arm, funneling every bit of magic he had inside of him through that connection. He hadn’t thought to try this before, to use this to his benefit, but he let their magic collide and nullify and it seemed to actually be working. Jonah was powerful, so much more powerful than he was, but maybe if he had to surpass that threshold, maybe it would buy the others the precious few seconds they would need to get away. 

“Run,” John screamed at them as he held on.  

“Impressive, but now really isn’t the time,” Jonah said, giving another yank to his hair. 

John could feel Jonah tense beside him before summoning up more magic, and John gave everything he had to counter it, his hands tingling and going numb from it. He’d never done anything like this, certainly not at this scale and it hurt, an ache spreading through his body, feeling almost like it did when Jonah had destroyed his barrier. All energy was being sapped from him, and he realized with a start that he could die, if he kept pushing. He didn’t hesitate. It didn’t matter what happened to him, so long as Jonah couldn’t hurt anyone else. He couldn’t lose these people. 

He saw surprise and pain flash across Jonah’s face, a drop of blood dripping down his cheek from his eye, like a tear. He was confused for a moment before he realized he’d done that. He’d actually managed to hurt Jonah with his magic. With an enraged cry, Jonah slammed John’s head to the side, into the wall, and he felt himself crumple to the floor, somewhat detached from the sensation. 

He heard Martin yell his name, and realized he’d taken advantage of the precious few seconds of a distraction he had won him to enter the Lonely again, stepping out of a swirl of mist directly behind Jonah. He drove the sword into Jonah’s back with so much force he lifted him off the ground for a moment. Jonah waved a hand and an invisible wall of force slammed into Martin, sending him sprawling and John stopped breathing entirely. 

In his desperation, John grabbed at Jonah’s ankle. He was relieved to see Martin scrambling to his feet, he was okay, but then Jonah’s foot impacted John’s head, knocking him back. Something hit Jonah squarely in the chest, crossbow bolts from Sasha he realized, which gave the rest of them an opening to descend upon him, Martin and Daisy the quickest, and the flurry of movement was too much for John to follow. 

He was fairly certain he was hyperventilating, trying desperately to pull himself to his feet, unable to properly hear anything through the pounding of blood in his ears. His head was aching and he could feel blood dripping down the side of his skull, but he didn’t have time to worry about that, he needed to get to them, to protect them! 

He didn’t realize someone was in front of him until a hand touched his shoulder and he flinched away, recoiling, expecting violence and pain, but it didn’t come. Instead, it was a gentle touch, warm and kind, and he looked up to see Georgie. It took him a moment to remember how to speak.

“Run,” he said urgently, voice hoarse. 

“Not a chance,” Georgie replied. 

The commotion behind him suddenly stopped and John shuddered, expecting to hear Jonah’s triumphant voice, to know for a fact that everyone he had ever cared about was dead and it was all his fault. But he didn’t. 

“It’s okay, it’s over,” Georgie said. 

“It’s okay,” Martin said, kneeling beside Georgie. “We’re all okay. We’re safe.”

John threw himself at Martin and held him tightly, as if he might get ripped away again at any moment. Martin let out a ragged breath, like he was just as overwhelmed with relief as he was. They might have both been crying, but all John wanted was to stay in this moment forever, to never let go, to know for a fact Martin truly was here. He never thought he’d have this again. He never thought he’d get to feel a kind touch, any sort of comfort, let alone that it would be Martin offering it, and he buried his face in his jumper.  

“You won’t have any more trouble from that asshole,” Tim said, and John hadn’t even heard him approach. 

“No,” John shook his head urgently, only pulling away enough to look back at Tim. “He— we tried to kill him before, but he came back.”

“Don’t worry,” Basira assured him. “We have it under control.”

John squinted, trying to see through the dizziness and his swimming vision, and saw Jonah, sprawled on the ground, unmoving, and was just in time to see Melanie pull a knife out of what he was pretty sure was Jonah’s eye socket and he turned away quickly, feeling like he was going to be sick. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Danny experimentally kick Jonah’s foot, as if making sure he really wasn’t about to get back up. He didn’t, thankfully. For their part, Basira and Daisy seemed to be preparing well-practiced steps of body disposal, laying out a shovel and other things he didn’t want to look at too closely. 

“Where did she even get a knife?” Tim asked, gesturing to Melanie as she came to join them. 

“She always has a knife,” Georgie assured him, and she sounded so fond. 

John let himself sink back into Martin, but he felt a wet patch on his arm and he recoiled violently, terror gripping him again. “You’re hurt!” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Martin assured him, placing his hand over John’s. “It’s not my blood.”

“Oh,” John said, deflating in his relief, dizzy from the sudden movement and suddenly so incredibly drained. 

“Budge up a bit,” Georgie said from beside Martin, pulling out a bandage.

It was all so surreal. All he could do was sit back and allow Georgie to patch him up. “Everyone’s really okay?” he asked, probably more than once, so afraid that this was an illusion. Any moment, he was sure Jonah would get back up and everyone else would fall down dead, revealing that this was all just a sick trick. But that didn’t happen. 

“Everyone’s fine,” Georgie told him, more patient than she should have been. 

But something was wrong. The only thing John wanted was to be close to Martin, but he had moved to the edge of the room, hovering, but not approaching. John kept trying to catch his eye, but he seemed to very carefully be looking anywhere else. Thankfully, Georgie was still there, holding his hand. He was so grateful for that human contact. But then, she didn’t know what Martin knew.

It would make sense, if Martin thought he’d taken more steps towards becoming a monster. Or if he’d been taken advantage of here once again. John had told him everything that had happened here, there was no reason to assume Jonah might show any sort of restraint or mercy. As far as Martin was concerned, he’d once again been used, tainted. Corrupted and probably that much closer to becoming a monster. 

Maybe it had finally gotten to be too much. It was almost funny how often things seemed to go wrong for John, it only made sense that Martin would want to be done with all this. Maybe he even suspected John might have gone willingly. That, on some level, he’d wanted this. And he had gone willingly in the end, hadn’t he? Why should Martin think that every part of this repulsed him? Why should he believe John when he said he never wanted to kill anyone, when he’d gone with the man who would make him do just that? Especially not when he’d killed right in front of Martin. He hadn’t changed, he hadn’t gotten better, so there was no reason anyone should believe him. 

He could tell Georgie was watching him with some concern, and John felt so stupid for letting this get to him. He kept his gaze on the ground and now he was the one avoiding eye contact. He understood, he really did. Just because he was still trembling, wishing to feel Martin’s arms around him, to know everything was okay— it was selfish. It was idiotic. Martin didn’t owe him anything, and now that the threat was over, he should be perfectly capable of moving on, not practically weeping like a child. He’d managed to handle all this on his own before. 

The last thing he wanted was for Martin to think he couldn’t handle this, that he had to stay with him when the idea of looking at him or even touching him was too much. He needed to pull himself together, to just get through this and assure everyone he was fine. Yes, he had no dignity, yes, everyone knew how pathetic and broken he was. But he didn’t want them sticking around because they felt sorry for him. 

He cleared his throat and stood up, and it was like everyone turned to look at him at the same moment, and he tried not to recoil at all of the attention. 

“John?” Georgie stood as well, looking like she was debating taking his hand again, if only because there was the real possibility of him collapsing. 

“I’m fine,” he said, voice harsher than he meant, trying to remain standing straight despite the wave of nausea and dizziness. “I’m going to steal from the library.”

“Good!” Tim barked out a laugh. “We should definitely rob the place.”

“We should probably leave soon,” Sasha said, looking around like the place creeped her out and he couldn’t blame her. 

“After the books,” John insisted, because suddenly that had all of his focus. It was the only thing he had to hang onto, something to think about that wasn’t his life falling apart around him. 

Thankfully, while everyone followed, they dispersed once they reached the library. Most seemed to stay in the hall, only Sasha, Georgie, and Tim came in to peruse. Martin was still lingering at the edges, always within eyesight, but still not looking at him. Maybe he wasn’t being convincing enough, maybe Martin still felt like he had to do something, and the thought made a sharp, bitter part of him twinge and he hated it. He didn’t want to be pitied, especially not by Martin. He didn’t want everything he’d felt for him to be replaced with nothing more than pity.

Daisy had handed him her bag before she went to deal with the body, and he started searching for books that stood out in his mind, favorites he wanted to revisit, ancient ones that it would be a shame to lose, and the like. In the past, he’d felt the need to gather any of the more dangerous volumes in order to lock them away for safekeeping, but he was so tired and he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Chances were good the town would torch the building if they didn’t, so those books would be taken care of regardless. He didn’t need to put himself at risk like that. 

Tim wandered over to him as nonchalantly as he could and gave a low impressed whistle as he looked around. It was enough to pull John from his thoughts and he glanced over at him. He was unwilling to let his eyes stay on anyone for too long, afraid of what they might see in him. He was fine, he was definitely fine, and he didn’t need anything. 

“Quite the collection,” Tim said conversationally. 

“Yes, well, he did have several lifetimes to work on it,” John said, unwilling to give Jonah any credit, even though he knew he’d only said that as a way to start the conversation. 

“Oh,” Tim said, and John felt a bit guilty, remembering how out of his depth Tim was here and how little context he likely had. He didn’t mean to rub it in. Had they explained anything to him on the way over? 

“Take what you want, it would be a shame for it all to go to waste,” John said, because he didn’t know how to apologize. 

“Actually, I wanted to check to see how you’re doing,” Tim said, apparently deciding on the direct approach since the casual opener had failed. 

“I’m fine,” John said, keeping his eyes glued on the books, hoping Tim wouldn’t notice that he’d stopped searching and was just staring at one spine specifically, not truly seeing it. Too much of his focus was going to keeping his face blank, trying not to think, trying to keep every part of himself from trembling apart. 

“You’re staying at my place, when we get back,” Tim said, and that was enough to get his full attention. 

John looked over at him with wide eyes, a crushing weight suddenly crashing into him as the reality of the situation hit him. Of course. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. And if Martin didn’t want him in his home anymore, if he didn’t want to be alone with him, he’d have to find somewhere else to live. 

“Right,” John said, turning away again quickly when he felt his eyes burning. “Thank you.”

It was suddenly very hard to breathe. Martin didn’t want him anymore. He was going to be alone again. That wasn’t a fair assessment, it felt like he actually had friends again, they wouldn’t just abandon him. Even if they were more Martin’s friends, Martin was kind. He wouldn’t just throw him out on the streets, he’d make sure there were options. But then, maybe it wasn’t safe for any of them to be alone with him, maybe none of them trusted him anymore. 

He bit his cheek hard enough to taste copper. He was staring at the book again, trying to ignore the emptiness in his chest. He couldn’t feel his fingers, like his body didn’t really belong to him. Jonah was gone, he was finally free, and yet he didn’t think he’d ever felt so broken and alone. The only thing he’d ever wanted for himself was to be with Martin, and now that he’d lost that, he didn’t know what to do. He was shaking again and he tried to grip the bag more tightly to hide it. 

“Good,” Tim replied. “I’ll probably need your help talking Martin into it. I honestly thought I’d have to twist both your arms. I know you guys can take care of yourselves, so it’s mostly for my benefit so I don’t have to worry about you both.”

“Both?” John said, confused now. “I-I don’t know if he’ll want that.” If Martin didn’t want him in his home, why would he want to stay somewhere else with him? 

“I’m sure he’ll go wherever you go, so if I’ve got you on my side—“

Tim smiled expectantly, but John didn’t know what he wanted, or what he was getting at. Or maybe he just didn’t understand that Martin didn’t want him anymore. Or, John supposed it was possible that Martin might still care about him on some level, even if he didn’t want to be with him. Maybe he’d be okay to stay close for now. Maybe John wouldn’t lose him all at once. Would it hurt more or less, to have him so close but constantly reminded of the rejection?

Tim seemed a bit put out by his lack of reaction. After a moment he muttered his farewells and headed towards Martin. John tried not to listen, he really did, but it was impossible not to notice when it became some sort of argument, hissing quietly back and forth. He was just glad he couldn’t make out any actual words. 

John realized too late that he was too far away from everyone else when Martin approached. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to do this right now, he needed more time to compose himself. The last thing he wanted to do was break down in front of Martin and make him feel like he couldn’t leave him. That wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to manipulate him like that. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” Martin asked with a wince, like that hadn’t been the way he wanted to start this conversation, because of course none of them were okay after the day’s events. 

“Fine,” John said, grabbing a random book and shoving it into the bag. “Almost done.”

“Slow down,” Martin said. “Just stop for a second. You’ve been through a lot.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine,” John said, and he could see the hurt flash across Martin’s face at the cold distance in his voice. 

“Tim wants us to stay with him for a night or two,” Martin said after a pause, almost conversationally. 

“He mentioned,” John said, hoping he was keeping his expression neutral. 

“How do you feel about that?” Martin promoted, and why did he have to be watching so closely?

“I don’t care, you can do what you want.”

“I— oh, of course,” Martin said, taking a step back, and John felt that acute pain in his chest again, something screaming that he was losing him, but what was he supposed to do to stop it? “I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I won’t be,” John said, because it felt like what he was supposed to say. And he didn’t want to push Martin away from Tim and his other friends. Martin was probably the actual person Tim wanted to keep close, after all. 

“Look,” Martin said, frustration finally winning out. “If you don’t want anything to do with me after today, I get it—“

“Me?” John exclaimed, whirling on him, because there was no way he was putting this on him. The least he could do was admit the real reason behind this, a bitter part of him insisted. “You’re the one who can’t stand to look at me.” 

As soon as the words were out, he wished he could take them back. Because he wasn’t sure he could stand hearing the words from Martin. The only person who had ever believed in him, finally giving up on him.  

“What? No, that’s not—“ Martin began, floundering for words and looking absolutely horrified. “I know you have this image of me, that I’m all tea and sweetness, and I want to be that for you. But I’m not. I’m a pessimist and I’m vindictive and I enjoyed killing Elias. I’d do it again if I could, the same for anyone that came to hurt us. But I want people to like me, I tend to go out of my way to try to make people happy—“

“So, what are you telling me?” John interrupted him, feeling ill, even worse than before. “That this was all an act? Just, you being kind to me was a reflex?”

What? No, no!” Martin exclaimed, and there was pleading in his voice. “I love you, but I would understand if you didn’t want to be around me now that you have seen how easily I killed someone. I can’t regret it, not after everything he’s done, but I understand if it was frightening.”

“Why— what does that have to do with anything? You saved my life, you all did. He got what he deserved, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You pulled away so quickly earlier,” Martin said. 

“I thought you were hurt!”

“You just—“ Martin began, looking frustrated as he searched for the right words. “You react so strongly when you hurt anyone with your magic, but I do anything and it’s fine? You had a breakdown after stabbing him not that long ago!“

“That was different,” John objected. 

“Was it?” Martin asked incredulously. 

“I’m—“ John began, biting his lip. But Martin deserved to know. He needed to know. “I’m afraid of how good it can feel. Using magic, hurting people. I’m afraid of ending up just like Elias.“ Jonah, he internally corrected himself. He’d have to explain that later. “But you’re nothing like him.”

“Neither are you!” Martin exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. “Do you just think I’m not capable of being angry or violent?“

”No, of course not,” John said. “Just— I trust you. Much more than I trust myself. You’ve protected me so many times, I know you’re not a pushover, but you’ve also never done anything to make me afraid of you.”

“Oh,” Martin said, and he looked so relieved that he wasn’t afraid of him. “Good. I’m glad.”

“But—“ John said, because he couldn’t just leave it there, as much as he wanted to. “I don’t want you to try to be someone you’re not. If you’re only with me because you feel like you have to—“

“No! No, that isn’t at all what I meant, god, I’m so bad at this,” Martin said, and he reached out and took his hand, the physical contact nearly enough to bring John to tears again, if only from the relief, to know Martin wasn’t disgusted at the thought of this. “Yes, I tend to people please, but everything I’ve done for you, I’ve done because I wanted to. I don't feel like I have to pretend around you. I love you”

“I—okay. Okay,” John repeated, wrapping his arms around himself with a shiver. 

“A-are you okay?” Martin asked. 

“I just— I thought— I don’t know,” he said, because his mind was swirling now, going so quickly from thinking Martin was going to leave him for two completely different reasons. And apparently one of them he’d made up. It seemed that even dead, Jonah was trying to poison everything in his life. 

“What?” Martin prompted, because apparently now that they were laying it all out, he wasn’t going to let John get away with it. 

“I need you to know—” John said all in a rush, because he thought he might be sick if he didn’t get it out. Even if this hadn’t been why Martin was acting so strange, he couldn’t keep it in. “Nothing happened. I mean, clearly things happened, but I didn’t kill anyone, and I didn’t sleep with him.”

“John,” Martin said so earnestly. “I’m glad, obviously, I don’t want you to have to go through any of that again. But you don’t have to defend yourself, to anyone, and certainly not to me.”

“Okay,” John said, taking a shaky breath. 

“But?” Martin prompted. 

“I’m sorry, I just—“ he wiped his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself. “I was afraid that that was why you wouldn’t look at me before.”

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like that,” and Martin looked so devastated he wished he hadn’t brought it up at all. 

“No, you didn’t, it’s not your fault,” John said quickly. “I know this is just me. I feel tainted just being back here.”

“John, you’re not,” Martin said with so much feeling. “None of this is your fault. And I certainly don’t think less of you because some evil piece of shit kidnapped you.”

“Even if I went willingly?” John asked, because he couldn’t stop fixating no matter how much he wanted to. 

“I don’t— what? Did you want to be here?” Martin asked, confused now. 

“No, of course not. But I couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt, so I gave up. I should have found a way, I should have—“

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Martin interrupted. “You did everything right. Obviously I wish you hadn’t been kidnapped at all, but you were protecting people, you were protecting me. It was a brave thing to do. You have to know how much I admire you.”

”C-can I—“ John tried, voice weak and stuttery as he reached out and tugged at the hem of Martin’s sleeve. 

He didn’t hesitate. Immediately, Martin pulled him into an enveloping hug, nearly crushing him against his chest. John closed his eyes tightly so his senses were overwhelmed with nothing but him. He didn’t want to think or feel anything else, he only wanted to be in this moment, wrapped in Martin’s embrace. 

“What he did to you,” Martin whispered in his ear. “It only says something bad about him, not you. Who you are despite everything you’ve been through— that just proves how amazing you are. I can’t not love you. 

“Even though I was terrified?”

“I was too.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Me too. But it’s over now.”

“It doesn’t feel real,” John admitted, and held him a little tighter. 

“You know what doesn’t feel real?“ Martin said, shifting tone to something lighter, probably trying to distract him from his anxieties. “Melanie and I are getting along better now. It helped that she was willing to come with to find you. Still having trouble breaking through Daisy’s walls though.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t really like tea,” John said, and that won a little laugh from Martin, and even with how watery and unsteady it sounded, he felt like he had won. 

“Oh, shut up.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle. After a long silence, though, it felt like all the adrenaline left his body and he swayed slightly on his feet. 

“I’m… really tired,” he admitted. 

“I know,” Martin said, and he took him over to a sofa, sinking down onto it and pulling John onto his lap, supporting him completely so he could keep lanky form in his arms. “I think we have some time, just try to rest, okay? The others will take care of everything.”

Glancing around, John realized the others had left the room and he felt another rush of gratitude towards them all, because he was crying again. He hated how often he seemed to fall apart these days. But at least it was mostly from the relief now, because Martin was okay. Everyone was okay. 

“I saw you,” he managed to choke out eventually. “You were unconscious in the street, I thought—“

“I’m here, I’m okay. Everything’s okay now. We’re safe.” But it seemed like the statement broke something in Martin because he burst into tears as well. “When I woke up and couldn’t find you,” Martin began, but was cut off by a sob, and then he was crying in earnest too, burying his face against John’s neck.

John didn’t know what else to do, so he just held the back of his head securely, petting against his hair. He was pretty sure he was saying something, but it was all just rambling reassurances that he forgot the moment they left his mouth. It seemed impossible that Martin was so upset, worrying about him. He shouldn’t. But he did. 

Being here, together, even as they both sobbed against each other until their lungs hurt and their heads throbbed, it felt like everything would be okay. There was a relief in it, a release of tension that they’d been forced to hold onto, terrified of what might happen in the end. But it was over, now, and they’d found their way back to each other. They would leave this terrible place together, and they wouldn’t be separated like this again. They could hold each other in their arms again and, for the moment at least, didn’t have to worry about anyone tearing them apart again. 

-

They couldn’t stay in the nearby town. Even if they found out Elias Bouchard, Jonah Magnus, was dead, it wouldn’t change how they felt about John. And he hated that this was all his fault. He hated that his friends would be in danger if anyone found out he was associated with them. All they could do was get as far from here as possible and start the long journey home. They didn’t get too far, and the sun was still up, maybe they could see how worn out he was, because it didn’t take them long before they were setting up camp. 

John was too grateful for the rest to complain. He was dizzy and his head ached so much from all the emotions and crying after taking two blows to the head. Thankfully he didn’t seem to have a concussion, but he was still miserable. And that was saying nothing about the rest of him. Martin had brought his cane thankfully, but he was already too sore to remain on his feet for long. They all set about setting things up while Martin pulled him down to sit beside him, neither of them willing to release the other. He didn’t realize how long he’d been sitting there when the sky was suddenly dark. At least they had a fire to keep the darkness at bay. 

“I’m so sorry,” John said, staring into the fire. “I put you all in so much danger.”

“None of that,” Daisy said, cutting him off. 

“Of course we came to help,” Danny said. 

Martin, who had his arm around him, squeezed him just a little tighter, perhaps in agreement with them, or perhaps as a way to say, ‘I told you so.’ Maybe both. Either way, John leaned more completely into Martin, mumbling a, “Thank you,” to these people he cared so much about, that he’d never be able to repay. 

He could finally believe that there were people he could trust, who could trust him, even knowing about the magic and the terrible things he was capable of. He could feel safe, and he could be with the man he loved. Somehow, that was the hardest part to wrap his mind around. He didn’t deserve to feel so happy, to see a future unfolding before him with possibility. But he did. And he wouldn’t take it for granted. He would love him with everything he had. 

Jonah being dead and out of his life for good didn’t feel entirely real, but maybe it would in time. Safety was a thing hard fought for, but he knew now that he had so many people who would know, would look for him if he went missing. There were people who would miss him. He felt real, like he existed in the world instead of lurking on the outskirts. 

It still felt scary, how much he had to lose. But it was worth it. Martin pressed a kiss to his temple and it was so worth it, it made him so happy he thought he might burst with it. He turned to pull him into a proper kiss, brief and tender, before pressing his forehead against his, just basking in the closeness, in the warmth. He felt so warm, inside and out, and he just let himself love, and be loved. He let himself be happy. 

[trekscribbles]

Failsafe: Chapter Three

...I came across the John Rogers line "Eliot's job is to be the failsafe that never fails". And I couldn't help thinking... What happens if the failsafe does fail?

Chapter One Chapter Two

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3.)

The heat was everywhere—liquid fire racing through his veins, pumping poison deeper into his body with every straining heartbeat. He felt individual drops of sweat beading on his forehead, but they did nothing to cool the feverish flush under his skin, the sensation of broken glass and molten lead. His breath snagged in his dry throat.

Rapid breathing, said a faint, clinical voice in his head. Elevated heart rate. Dizziness. Counter with slow, deep breaths.

He inhaled, forcing air into burning lungs, and stared up at the ceiling.

“What do you know?” asked the man next to him.

“Know?” Eliot grated out. “About what?”

The man touched his arm, and he tried to flinch away. Something held his wrist down.

“What do you know about Dr. Grossman?” the man said patiently.

Dr. Grossman. The mark. He was here to talk to him, to find out—

No. Focus on something else.

There were halos around the lights, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“What do you know about Dr. Grossman?” the man repeated.

“He’s a doctor,” Eliot said.

“Yes,” the man said. Eliot heard a smile in his voice. “So are you. You realized something about his patients, didn’t you? Something about the drugs he was using.”

Scopolamine overdoses. Patient deaths. Dr. Gatraer came to them, came to Nate.

Can’t think about Nate.

“Scopolamine,” Eliot said. “And solanumine. That’s what you gave me.”

The man laughed. “Solanumine only, I’m afraid. It shows up as scopolamine on a tox screen because the compositions are so similar. That’s the beauty of it. No one even knows what we’re testing.”

“But why…” Eliot panted. “Why did… I…?”

The man’s voice oozed false sympathy. “I apologize, that would be the solanumine at work. It causes… well, let’s call it brain fog. It makes you more susceptible to questioning. So let’s have it, Dr. Baker. There’s no point in fighting it. The solanumine won’t let you.”

A spike of fear ripped through him—he had to fight, had to keep things back, had to protect—but no, he didn’t. He was Dr. Baker. The man had just said so, hadn’t he? Dr. Baker didn’t have anything to hide.

“The truth now,” the man said.

“The truth,” Dr. Baker agreed. “I talked him. Grossman.”

The man stepped closer. “About what?”

“Baseball,” Dr. Baker said.

“What else?”

“He asked if I had a pen.”

“What else?”

“Cafeteria food. He told me… avoid the jello. Haven’t had jello since I was a kid.”

The man took a frustrated breath. “What about the drugs? Did he tell you where he was getting his supply?”

So that’s what this was about. The supplier would have had Grossman under surveillance, and he couldn’t risk discovery—this man, he was connected, was possibly the supplier himself, possibly a lieutenant—but Dr. Baker wouldn’t know that, so he shuffled it to the back of his mind and centered his attention on the numbness spreading through his fingers.

“Grossman didn’t want to… talk about his work,” he said.

There was a long pause. A boot scraped over the floor, and Eliot turned his head automatically toward the sound.

“Interesting,” the man said quietly. “You’re resisting. Avoiding my questions.”

Eliot didn’t answer. A tight feeling worked its way across his chest, like something heavy was being pushed onto his ribs.

“You’ve received training,” the man said. “Where?”

Training. Tactical analysis, interrogation resistance, weapons proficiency, field combat.

Grifting. Acting. Character backstory. 

“Medical training,” Dr. Baker said. “MD program… University of Nebraska, Om—Omaha center.”

The man pushed away from the table. “All right, then. If you won’t cooperate, let’s try another dose.”

Eliot jerked his arm, but the restraints held fast.

“It’s hard to get it right the first time,” the man said. “And if you’ve had experience with this kind of thing in the past… if you’ve built up a tolerance...”

Leather dug into Eliot’s right wrist, plastic into the other. A zip tie, replacing the strap he’d torn free.

“You’re already experiencing physical symptoms,” the man went on. “Headache, sensitivity to light, tachycardia. That will increase with another dose. It should stimulate more of a psychological reaction as well. Confusion. Obedience. Possible paranoia. Of course, there are risks—we should be monitoring your heart rate and blood pressure, but unfortunately, they don’t keep that kind of equipment in the morgue.”

Eliot turned his wrist under the strap, but it didn’t stop the needle. Pain seared up his arm, through his chest—he drew in a stuttering breath, grinding his teeth together to keep from crying out.

“Let’s try this again,” the man said. “You’re here to find out about Dr. Grossman’s supplier.”

“Yes.”

The word dragged itself through Eliot’s teeth, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

The man grinned. “And who are you working for?”

“Inde… independent contractor.”

“The name.”

There was blood in his mouth. His breath came in short gasps, faster and shallower with every heartbeat. “Name,” he said, his voice grating and raw. “What’s yours?”

“All right,” the man said conversationally. “If it makes you feel better, you can call me Hart. Your turn.”

 “It’s—it doesn’t matter. It’s fake.”

“What is?”

“My name,” Eliot rasped. “My boss’s name. Fake. All of them.”

“What does your boss want with Dr. Grossman?”

“The supplier.” Eliot tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. His chest was heaving now. “Sup-supply—The—”

“He’s hyperventilating,” murmured one of Hart’s men. “He’ll pass out if he doesn’t calm down.”

Hart sighed. “Get him a sedative. But keep him conscious—we’re finally getting somewhere.”

Eliot thrashed, but it was useless—another needle slid into his skin, pushing more drugs into his system, and his racing heart slowed. It shouldn’t have worked so quickly, but then, he couldn’t be sure how much time had passed. That was the problem with sedatives. It might have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes. He couldn’t tell. 

His eyes drifted closed. His muscles began the agonizing process of forced relaxation.

He let out a long exhale and laid still.

“Dr. Baker,” Hart said. “Look at me.”

Eliot didn’t move.

“Dr. Baker.” A pause. “Dammit, you gave him too much. No, no more doses. We have to keep him alive until we know who he’s working for. Get him up, we’ll take him back to Mr. Rosner. He can finish the interrogation.”

Hands on his again, on his wrists, his ankles. The straps fell away. A blade severed the zip tie. Someone gripped under his arm to sit him up.

Eliot bolted upright and grabbed the man next to him, throwing him into Hart. He kicked off the table, stumbled—the light speared through his eyes, so he closed them and pictured the room and the men in it. A step to his right; he pivoted to catch the punch he felt coming, knocked it away, jabbed back. A body fell at his feet. A clatter of tools on a tray—scalpels, knives—what else? Did any of them have guns? He couldn’t remember.

Memory loss. Side effect of the sedative.

A fist caught Eliot in the cheek, knocking him back against the table. He brought up his elbow to block the next punch. Missed. The force of the blow knocked him off balance, and for a second he was too disoriented to move—but his opponent grunted and gave away his position, and Eliot struck, shoved back, stepped away.

They weren’t where he thought they were. The sedative may not have knocked him out, but it had dulled his reactions. His perceptions were compromised. He couldn’t trust himself. 

It didn’t matter. As long as he was awake, he had to fight.

When the next punch came at his stomach, he turned it aside and countered with an elbow to the other man’s face. Hands on his shoulder yanked him toward the table. He twisted beneath them and snapped a jab into someone’s mouth.

Everything went dark.

Eliot blinked hard, opening his eyes to the lack of cutting light, but there was nothing.

Ocular distress. Pressure on the optical nerves. Blindness.

The men around him hesitated, and Eliot did what he was trained to do and took advantage of their confusion. Another man went down.

“Go,” Hart shouted. “Leave him. Get back to Rosner.”

The men scattered for the door, and Eliot staggered against the table, breathing heavily. Hart was escaping. Could he let them escape? What had he told him? He’d thought about Nate—about the team. Had he said their names? He couldn’t remember. Hart had asked him who he was working for, and he’d—yes, he’d said Nate’s name. He’d put him in danger. Put the whole team in danger.

He couldn’t let them leave the building.

Eliot took a breath, spat blood from his mouth, and followed the men into the hall.