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brynn-lear · 3 months

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When Cuckoos Throw Ores [Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader]

Questionable Overview: After transmigrating to Teyvat, you and Jing Yuan had lived like family on your shared apartment as getting-by descenders. But, you made an error too grave. You hid the anonymous love letters you received from the person you should’ve trusted the most— and now you’ve got yourself a broken mind. [Fic written for May June]

CWs/tags: yandere themes, isekai, moments where you wish Jing Yuan just committed murder instead so it would hurt less, mentions of failed childbirth, nadia & vlad are adorable, implied hysteria, cute n' wholesome beginning w/ found family to "man... man.", gaslighting gatekeep is JY's passion.

"I'm an adult, Jing Yuan! I think I have the right to leave as I please."

Have you ever been so incredibly fascinated by such a mundane object that all worldly noise drowns?

"The right to trample on my heart? To leave me to drown in my despair while you obsess over a single ore without a single thought for me? I must say, it doesn’t seem very sound. Stay put while I call for Doctor Baizhu."

Have you ever had your hand reach out ever so slightly without you realizing such? For your fingers to curl— for you to seize a trinket as though you were compelled by an existence— an idea higher than any mortal comprehension? As though it was fate? As though it was a fruit you weren't meant to take a bite off?

But the most mundane of all…

"There’s no need! Because great General and Emanator of the Hunt Jing Yuan—"

Have you ever lamented a life that "never" happened?

"— I have the right to mourn the happy ending you took from me!"

Though those uninitiated will rehash the root of events in your arrival to the chasm, the most knowledgeable would start the accounts from your arrival to Teyvat.

You did not step foot alone.

When your worldline was destroyed, so, too, was Jing Yuan's.

Lady Ningguang greeted you both with a good measure of skepticism. You were both "descenders.", though it was soon made evident that your origins are different. He was from "Xianzhou Loufu," and you were from "Earth." Course, despite your shared tragic circumstances, not everything shall be handed on a silver platter for unfortunate souls. Ningguang was kind enough to provide you both with a shared apartment complex near the fishing port and since then, you and Jing Yuan had a bond not so dissimilar from siblings. He got a job as a general, and your current position is a little more flexible than your previous one.

Whatever principles and studies were available in the previous realms you lived in, they were carried over in Teyvat. Each word circulating about Jing Yuan’s undefeated sword and lance techniques makes you smile; he, in turn, would enthusiastically applaud your sold artworks and STEM innovations. It makes you wholly embarrassed every time he makes what is supposed to be a celebration of his mission’s success into a congratulatory speech for what you’ve done in the same timeframe. Didn’t matter how minute it was. His comrades had already considered the long-standing tradition as a not-so-private joke.

His lack of personal praise worries you sometimes…

There’s a stark difference in your approach to this new life. You mourned for yours being gone; while he doesn’t speak much about his.

“No rush,” he'd say. “All truths shall reveal itself in due time.”

You know about his world, though vaguely. He has a striking resemblance to the character from Honkai: Star Rail. Course, that implies he had gone through similar ordeals as the character.

“I am an old man, there is nothing for me to grieve.” He told you once. “I have… already witnessed comrades pass, and then some. Have you encountered the phrase: there are fates worse than death?”

Jing Yuan closed his eyes.

“I… find it easier to assume that it might be the only way to put old conflicts to rest.” He shook his head and downed his final shot of baijiu. Yuan sighed, tasting the aftermath in his breath.

“It’s better to put a permanence in death than another forced rebirth.”

He poured you a shot.

"Some memories are better left forgotten. And that applies to you, too."

Whatever he said felt untranslatable to you, hence, you gave up on making more inquiries. If the day comes and he wishes to open up, you'll be there for him anyway.

Or so you thought.

“Heard you’re planning to add another medal to your jacket.”

Jing Yuan nearly halted from tying his long hair up. You watched his shoulders tremble, likely from trying to compose himself.

“Ha! You've heard a half-truth, I wasn't scheming on anything, it was merely handed to me.” His tone was calm, but you heard the well-hidden smugness.

You shrugged and sipped your coffee nonchalantly.

… You seriously wish his uniform didn't hug his form that good. Just staring at him makes the room feel degrees hotter.

You cleared your throat.

“I didn't say anything about schemes, Jing Yuan. Suspicious.”

“Oh?” He hummed, almost sultry for your ears.

…Curse him and his damn beatific smiles.

This playful banter is as natural as the dawn of day. Rather than spending the early morning getting ready for the day, you've both grown accustomed to teasing the other person. He, in his finely ironed uniform, and you, in your comfy pajamas.

“Since when have I besmirched my name by squandering time? Rude of you to imply that slothfulness rules over my life.” Jing Yuan joked before he moved another piece. “You wound me, dear (Y/n).”

Due to the nature of the conversation, you hadn't thought of your next move much as you continued to probe him. “And what exactly are you doing right now instead of reporting to the Qixing, General?”

He smirked. “I am on-duty, am I not?”

“By talking to me?”

“I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.”

You paused.

Person of Interest…?

Might as well curse him and his fancy cursive way of implying something too.

Your nose scrunched. “Are you saying I'M on the Qixing’s watchlist?!—”

“Not in a bad light; don’t worry your pretty head over such menial matters,” he ruffled your hair as he craned over, gazing at your disgruntled morning expression with a loving vigor. “They have an eye for your talent. No Ministry would ever obsess over a clean criminal record.”

You grumbled as you attempted to fix your hair, despite lacking any energy. “Thanks, that calms me down. Especially with the talks about criminal activity on the rise and all.”

He laughed at your snarkiness.

“Is this your best attempt at prying information? I must say, your current occupation suits you. I can now place a finger as to why the thought of Lady Ningguang hiring you as a profiler put me in tremendous unease.”

“Oh don’t be a prick, Yuan.” You chuckled heartily as you gave him a playful slap— which he no doubt avoided. “But seriously, can’t you tell me more about what’s happening?”

There were no further words needed. Such rumors had been on the forefront of the people’s minds: a group of rogue “mercenaries” had found new temptations in banditry— and had the nerve to stew misfortunes on the main harbor itself. As a newly enforced general, Jing Yuan had, of course, been subjected to handling this situation under the ever-watchful gaze of the Qixing. A challenge, as he likes to label it. Whatever helps him sleep at night, you’d reply.

Although, it would certainly soothe YOUR insomnia better if he were to divulge even a hair-sliver of detail in regards to how “safe” this mission truly was.

“(Y/n), there is no cause for concern.” He pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You know my repertoire— else I wouldn’t consider you a close friend.”

Your heart ached for a second.

In small snippets from the multiple conversations you’ve had with him, you knew he kept his list of close friends few. There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he talks about those named Baiheng, Jingliu, Yingxing, and Dan Feng in passing.

“And I’m just worrying over you,” you lightheartedly glared and waved your hand dismissively. “You know, like a real close friend.”

You both grinned in unison as if telling each other that neither would back down from this “argument” any time soon. He snorted and messed your hair up more. Over the time you’ve spent in each other’s company, your near-telepathic way of conversing has become quite an eerie issue for other mutual friendships.

Not that either of you minded this. It’s always nice to be understood.

“I know that look in your eye. Don’t add a part two from last night’s horror stories, please.”

“Then, I’ll take my leave,” he buttoned his jacket. “Last reminder before I go: you have arranged a meeting with Nadia this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” you huffed. “But unlike you, I don’t sleep in and forget my schedule.”

You swore that even after the door was closed, you heard him chuckle yet again. After that, he was gone.

Honestly, with someone with a “life-loving” temperament like him, you’re unsure if he’s easy to please— or too damn good at faking it for his good.

You heard soft knocks against your window.

Slowly, a grin forms on your lips.

“Hello, little man…” You cooed as you stood up and opened for not only the fresh Liyue morning breeze to enter…

But for a diligent little cuckoo bird to deliver its very special package as well.

You’ve always had a soft spot for animals…

“Hmm?”

Your eyes softened as it dropped its parcel and leaned its body against you, warming itself by sitting cozily on your window ledge. This little bird is quite the skilled messenger— always dropping by as soon as Jing Yuan takes his leave. As to why it suspiciously arrives as soon as he is gone, you’re unsure. Such a sneaky creature; you can’t help but adore it.

That’s not to say its deliveries are not as equally charming.

You chuckled as you elegantly unwrapped the ribbon. The letter was elegantly written in a scrawl you’ve familiarized even with eyes closed for the past months, yet it still holds an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

There it was. The two words that keep you going better than any coffee brew.

“My dearest, (Y/n),….”

“Another letter from Vlad, I’d hope?” You sneaked from behind.

Nadia yelped, hitting you almost immediately. The delay was surely from being on a lovelorn cloud-nine, but her Fatui training that earned her last name definitely should’ve made you double-think.

You shriveled at the pain and she awkwardly cradled you.

“Oh shucks— I’m so sorry, (Y/n)! I-I didn’t realize it was y-y— Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” You hissed, blaming only yourself for the stinging aftermath. “I-I’ll get over it.”

Nadia guided you to the empty seat beside her. As soon as you were seated, she wasted no time to spill.

“The contents were far too adorable for my heart, oh, dear Tsaritsa, you NEED to read this.”

An eyebrow was raised. Saying you had a suspicion that something like this would happen would be an understatement— when it came to Nadia, it was more like routine. It had been regular for you and her to get together at least once a month to chat over letters that you both received. Nothing about the time you spent with her was dull. She's the reason you adapted to the Liyue way of life so well. As you were both foreign to the culture— you and Jing Yuan are admittedly the extreme cases— you and her were eager to recount experiences in times of distress. And times of pure unbridled lovesick joy, such as this.

“C’mon, pass it.” You tried to say cooly, but the glimmer in your eyes betrayed your high school-like excitement.

“Same time.” Nadia huffed. "Can't have you gatekeeping your own letter!"

You pulled out yours from your purse.

Nadia wasn’t the only one with something to present to the class. This is just like a teacher forcing students to read their discreetly passed notes out loud.

Nadia has her Vlad.

You have your Nay Jung I.

Instantly, you both suppressed a giggle in the abrupt exchange.

Nay Jung I. You know little about him, and that intrigue keeps the fire going. When you see a white cuckoo passing by the window, you immediately know it means well. A sight that makes your heart skip a beat. Instead of pushing eggs, it slips a love letter whenever Jing Yuan isn’t around. All coming from a man you can’t track down.

That’s right.

You have a secret admirer.

As you read through the middle of Vlad’s letter for Nadia, you heard your very-much-an-adult friend bite back a squeal in front of you. Nay Jung I may sound like a feminine name, but he was a man. You could’ve sworn you saw Xiangling laugh from the corner of your eye as Nadia tugged your sleeve around like a fool.

“Oh my God?! He wrote that?!” Her lips were akin to wobbly lines toddlers would draw when mimicking the sun’s rays.

“I find myself constantly catching glimpses of you in my daydreams, my mind flooded with what could be— what should be. Forgive me for my selfishness, but I fear it won’t take long before I can no longer bear the thought of being without you… What?! That’s so SWEET?!” Nadia clutched your love letter tightly, eyes wide as though she was the recipient.

Xiangling, bless her soul, had to peek behind her.

“I wish I could have the courage to reveal myself to you. When I doubt myself, my thoughts turn to you… Aww… I wonder who Mister Nay is and what did you do to get him this in love?” Xiangling playfully pouted, which made Nadia grin wider, almost teasing her. “Geez. When will I get a boy to send me letters?”

“I’m sure you’re going to get one or two someday. A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?” Nadia shrugged as she folded the paper and hid it. “Plus, I fear you’re too young for this.”

“Careful, Dia, she’s the one preparing our food.” You joked.

Nadia has grown more friendly to locals for the better since you started sharing meals here. Everyone knows the feelings between her and Vlad were mutual— but neither of them was willing to confess. With Nadia hoping he initiates, and him densely hesitant on whether she reciprocates. One of them can end this phase should they abandon pride or cowardice.

But Nay Jung I?

You can’t find his records anywhere… And he had told you that it is a fake name by your fourth letter, much to your chagrin.

So, you’ve settled with this arrangement. For now, you are both friends, despite knowing he has feelings for you from the start.

“Mister Nay definitely has it bad for you, Mx. (Y/n).” She gave you a closed-eyed smile. “You need to write back immediately! The man’s probably starving for it!— Oh, right, the pot!!!”

As the chef rushed back after being distracted, you gave Nadia’s letter back to her.

“Any chance of rain?” You asked.

“Cloudy with negative one percent chance that I’ll run to Northland Bank and confess to Vlad.” Nadia spoke sheepish;y.

“That’s at least five percent higher than yesterday.”

“Well, this last letter was adorable.” She swooned.

“Mx. (Y/n), you seem incredibly free at the moment, care to have a chat?”

You turned to look at the new person who joined in.

Fur coat, a distinct mole placement, a sharp haircut, and eyes self-assured enough to conceal their need for urgent assistance, it has to be none other than—

“Miss Yelan,” you gave her a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Nadia sat up straight, shifting to her work mode. “Is there some business you require from the Northland Bank?”

“I have no quarry with you, Madam Nadia, what I do want—” Yelan tilted her head, her eyes calculating. “Is to speak to (Y/n) in private.”

You paused, recalling the conversation you had this morning.

‘I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.’

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan was warning you about this morning.

“Fine, I concede.” You sighed, swiftly snatching your letter from Nadia’s hands and tucking it inside the pockets of your inner jacket.

“Lead me to where you most need me.”

Over the years you’ve spent on Liyue, you’ve had another habit you’ve been nursing on the sidelines.

Epigraphy.

Better yet, it’s for the sole purpose of decoding ancient artifacts. Before you were transmigrated into Teyvat, you found that inspecting artifact descriptions and reading through lore strewn in notes and dialogues were a great part of what made playing Genshin Impact enjoyable. You devoured theories whether they were from YouTubers like Ashikai or other CCs who were eager to unravel and analyze myths from different civilizations. To be inside THE sandbox was the greatest treat. If your friends were here, you have no doubt you’d have plenty who’d look and try to pick apart Mister Zhongli’s brain.

Unfortunately, you never managed to catch his eye.

And the biggest misfortune of all, you caught Miss Yelan’s instead.

“It’ll take me a few weeks to decipher and solve this puzzle…” You told her hesitantly. “And I can’t guarantee anything either.”

Yelan only tilted her head. Strands of her hair hid her expression, and the only body language to be read was the way she played with the die on her fingers. You wondered if she was deciding your fate by giving it a roll…

You looked at the inscribed walls.

A man with horns… and his partner wearing a long hanfu… His partner… Reminds you of a beautiful cuckoo bird.

You sighed.

When she bargained for a chat in “private”, the Chasm was the last location you had in mind. Even more, it did not occur to you that she aimed to use you as a translator. For a language you only learned a few years ago.

You knew you couldn’t exactly deny a member of the Qixing, especially with how much you carried a moral debt for Lady Ningguang, so you agreed under the condition that Yelan wouldn’t snitch to Jing Yuan.

He might just give you the silent treatment if he found out you were here.

But back on the walls and the puzzle mechanism in the middle of the room…

Both were seated under the shade of a tree…

Each holding a cup of tea…

“Damn it, why me?” You cussed out loud.

You seriously want to tell her that she should’ve chosen Zhongli.

Not that you’d know that Yanfei begged Yelan to hire you for the job.

Yelan made her dice vanish. “If you need further assistance, and by that I meant necessities such as food and water, call for Wenyuan or Shanghua. They’ll materialize right in front of you.”

On the next wall, the horned man tightly held his partner, with tears falling from his eyes… His tail was more apparent in this depiction, but there were crystallized ambers and statues all around…

Like they were running…

Away from him…

You faced Yelan.

“Yelan, can’t you call for someone else—”

You blinked.

She was gone.

You don’t like being here.

You don’t like this cave.

You’re not sure whether you liked the fact Yelan invited you here. On one hand, you were grateful for the opportunity, but at the same time, you thought yourself unqualified for whatever piece of ancient Liyuean history was waiting to bite you in the ass.

It didn’t take a genius to know that whoever the drawn man was, he was a force to be reckoned with. You played enough Genshin to know that yakshas are not to be trifled. If this ended up as an Azhdaha scenario, you wouldn’t want to be the nameless NPC who died along the way.

Should’ve commissioned the traveler.

As you progressed in your decoding, the texts were beginning to gnaw you.

“Have you heard the tale of Lady ███ ███?”

You trembled at the thought.

Curse Jing Yuan and his ghost stories.

The story wasn’t even that frightening.

What got you was how Jing Yuan sold them. He had preached it as though he had been a witness. It’s just a typical unnerving tale to keep children alert, but he had always been far more persuasive than you.

“When she and her husband were out exploring, her husband left her while she sired his heir. He left her there to die.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. You quietly applauded his commitment to the bit. Should you not know any better, you would’ve thought he hated that man more than anything.

Like he was seething with jealousy.

“Some claim he hid her there to fight for a war, some say it was out of love… In my eyes, it was an unforgivable neglect.”

Jing Yuan claims sharing ghost stories was a common occurrence from when he used to teach his disciple. But you’re not an idiot. You can sniff out a reason why he loves to bring these stupid tales.

“Days felt like a prison tally. She had forgotten what it felt to live in the sun.”

“She lived only by fulfilling basic needs. No matter how thick the mud was, no matter what was within the soil— all she could do was bitterly swallow what was to come. She bit her tongue on the ever-growing famine— and wished that her child would survive.”

Jing Yuan does not want you anywhere near the chasm.

“So when it was time to give birth, she had no assistance. She pushed her child out as hard as she could, and laid an empty egg.”

Before you could even ask why a human would lay an egg, Jing Yuan continued.

“But they both passed away.”

“Legends say, that’s the reason why the lumenstone ore glows. It contains the watchful gaze of a scorned mother and unborn child…”

“And if you aren’t careful, you too—”

“Could be trapped inside it.”

You scoffed.

Was the tale stupid? Depends on who you ask. Was it sad? Sorta. Was the thought of two ghosts— possibly more— watching you as you were forcibly dispatched to read through The Chasm’s secrets terrifying? Given the dark and brooding atmosphere, it was a quiet yes.

“Hmm? I— I solved it…?”

You blinked.

Maybe you still retained your skills as a Genshin player. Anything for a luxurious chest is what you would’ve said. And yet, it still baffled you that one did appear.

When you unlocked it, you saw no “primogem” like you quietly hoped (it would be funny if you unlocked a wish function, but that’s unlikely…)

Instead, you found a dusty ore.

“Great.” You muttered dryly. “Just what I needed.”

It was amber in color, same as the clothes the man wore in the wall paintings. You’re at a loss on how you should report this to Yelan.

“Better than nothing.” You spoke, laughing slightly. That sounded like something Diluc would say. You should buy a dandelion wine after this hard work.

Quickly, you fished out the gloves in your pockets. It was made of nitrile, which should protect the ore from possible oil and moisture from your hands. Yelan was very insistent you wear it.

But as soon as you touched the ore…

Your consciousness slipped away.

There was a man in front of you.

But you couldn’t see his face.

“Dearest ███ ███…” The horned man smiled delicately as he sipped his tea. “It has been centuries since our first wedding ceremony. Do be honest with me, do you still hold the same passion as before.”

These memories appear to you in a blur.

“No, I do not.” You heard your voice say as the man’s shoulders slowly deflated. His amber eyes looked down, and his smile began to strain.

With two fingers, you lifted his chin.

“If anything, my love for you has grown stronger,” you spoke. “For you and I shall never let our draconic instincts dull, and our union will be the greatest treasure we shall hoard in this never-ending flow of time.”

“…/n…!”

One hand took his scaley hand and the other held his cheek, caressing softly.

“Promise you shall return?” You heard yourself mutter, this time weak and hopeless.

He leaned against your palm, purring as though it might be the last time he’ll savor your warmth.

“You know I do not make promises, ███ ███.” He spoke firmly. “What I keep are contracts. And I have vowed to make you happy, for as long as I live.”

“…(Y… (Y/n…. snap… out…!”

“Contracts normally sound so cold, but your honeyed voice makes it sound so romantic.”

“You know well, my love, in all my years, I’ve witnessed endless contracts and agreements. Whether it was tangible or verbal— each one was a significant chapter to someone’s life.”

The horned man softly detangled your fingers from his long brown hair and kissed your hand.

“But only one brought forth complete change. Our matrimonial agreement. The contract we signed gave me the most happiness. I’ve never signed a happier contract than this one.”

“And I share the same sentiment.” You cooed, almost cheeky. “And I hope our future child shall feel our love as well.”

He rested his head on your shoulder and sighed.

“The day shall come, my love.” He spoke. “Just wait for me, until I fulfilled what the Heavenly Principles desires.”

“Of course,” you hugged him back.

“I shall wait for you, my dearest…

“(Y/N)!!!”

You flinched.

Suddenly, you’re not in the mountains. You’re not hiding under the shade of a tree with warm-hued leaves. You were…

You were sitting on a patch of grass, just outside the chasm.

And Jing Yuan is mad.

He had a cold unmerciful glare. His built frame towered above you, casting a large shadow. It was already nighttime. Normally, only the moonlight and the lamps from afar should be the only source of light here, but his golden eyes seemed to glow. As though it was ready to call forth an entity you were not prepared to face.

You know the depths of his anger. Years of living inseparable from him has made every communication almost telepathic and that hadn’t changed. You can read it in his breaths, in his stiff and tall posture, in his unnerving gaze.

He is threatening you to spill. Saying without words that:

There are fates worse than death.

But your pulse was steady. But your breathing was calm. But your expression was blank.

You weren’t terrified.

And you can read that deep down, that scared the General more.

“Nay Jung I…”

For a moment, Jing Yuan’s eyes widened— as though there was something he was the only one privy to knowing. His face had a mix of surprise and disbelief before he steeled himself.

“Nay Jung I?” He scoffed.

“What of him?” Jing Yuan asked.

“He’s my soulmate.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, brief incoherent syllables sputtered out of his mouth. You evoked more emotions in him this time around. You saw flashes of shock, what seemed to be happiness, hope, and then utter confusion.

“...What?”

“I saw him.” You said, calm. “I saw him as soon as I touched that rock. My soulmate— he had long hair and eyes like a dragon— I think he was a dragon, and so was I. I think my soulmate is in Liyue and he’s hiding behind the name Nay Jung I.”

Jing Yuan opened his mouth, before thinning his lips.

This time, you were certain.

He was not only mad. Jing Yuan was sorely disappointed.

“I understand…”

You know the expression on his face. You read him like a discipline you mastered in epigraphy. He thinks that…

You have gone “cuckoo.”

He turned around, no longer facing you.

“I’m sorry then, (Y/n).”

Jing Yuan does not sound sorry to you.

“What for?”

There was silence for a moment, before he spoke again, voice bitter and vile.

He was not sorry.

He was furious.

He was hurt.

He was jealous.

“Nay Jung I is the leader behind the past terrorist attacks.” He paused. “And I killed him.”

You haven’t recovered ever since.

Every medical “professional” you’ve encountered told you that you were hysterical. That you just hallucinated what you saw. It isn’t possible that the visions you saw were Nay Jung I anyway.

Maybe they were right about the last part, you don’t want to believe it.

It was in your instincts. That man had to be your husband in the past. Who cares if you came from another world? Maybe you were an Expy. You had to be. That person— the one who reminded you of a cuckoo bird in those walls— had to be you in another universe.

It had to be.

Your real soulmate is out there.

And Nay Jung I isn’t dead.

But you’ve never been good at persuading others.

Soyourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveit—

“General Jing Yuan, is (Y/n)…?”

Outside the apartment, Mister Zhongli and Jing Yuan stood by the window, peaking at your form. You were so engrossed by your inner conflicts that you couldn’t hear them.

“They’ll… move on from you, eventually.” Jing Yuan spat back coldly. “I’m not the God of Contracts, but I keep promises that do not fail.”

Zhongli’s face crumpled in anguish.

“May I ask a question? Just to sate a bit of curiosity, of course.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. Zhongli took that as a yes.

“Are you Nay Jung I?” He asked. “I did not see his name on the list of the deceased criminals—”

“Yes, he and I are the same,” Jing Yuan silenced him. “Nay Jung I is an anagram of Jing Yuan. You can reorder the letters and confirm it for yourself.”

Originally, Jing Yuan had hoped to woo you with a romantic tale of an anonymous admirer. But, in your delirium, you had mistakenly believed that Nay Jung I was the same man in your visions.

It was repulsive.

Never before had he wished to scream so loudly. He had not felt this much anger when he discovered the crimes his old friends had done. He had not felt as betrayed as when you claimed love for Nay Jung I, but it was not him.

He wanted to summon the Lightning Lord to destroy Liyue right then and there.

It was a frustration he had never felt before. Not when he was training with Jingliu. Not when he was scolding Yanqing. Not ever.

But Jing Yuan was not an impulsive man.

He prides his patience.

He prefers to scheme quietly rather than flashing bold moves.

Jing Yuan sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“I suppose it’s my turn to ask.”

He shut the windows and Zhongli’s heart ached as he could no longer see you.

But then he turned to look at Jing Yuan.

And he knew…

Jing Yuan is much older and wiser than he looks.

“Tell me, Rex Lapis,” he spoke sharply. “Did you wed this world’s version of (Y/n) (L/n) and leave her and her child to die?”

…

That silence was enough.

Jing Yuan’s private investigations behind your back were right.

In the vast “multi-verse”, there is a version of you that married this dragon who descended from his Archon status.

“I... have wrought upon them great suffering. I am unworthy of their affections. Should a day come where (Y/n) enacts the fury of my wife and child on their behalf, it will be justly deserved.”

Zhongli did not further elaborate.

Whatever happened in the past, it still haunted him to this day. Lingering in the back of his mind, dulling his self-confidence and wits. Maybe it’s why Yanfei thought you should investigate the cave. Maybe she wanted the alternate version of ███ ███ to come back.

But she's gone.

Jing Yuan took a step closer.

“Your wife is dead, Rex Lapis. They are my (Y/n), not yours.”

“I-… I know.” Zhongli— no— Morax spoke, voice laced with grief. “I know she and (Y/n) are not the same, however, I…”

Another step.

“If you wish for their happiness, you will continue to not speak to them. You have done enough damage.”

Morax closed his eyes mournfully. “I am well aware of this”

Another step.

“Let me take care of (Y/n). Let me make them happy.”

And another.

Jing Yuan stared deep into Morax’s soul.

In all his years of living, it didn’t occur to Morax that he’d find another familiar cuckoo again.

But it wasn’t his wife.

Jing Yuan took another step.

This man in front of him was pushing and pushing…

“Let this conversation be a verbal contract,” he said. “That I, Jing Yuan, vow to make (Y/n) happy, and that you, Rex Lapis, shall step down as a final way to atone your sins of uxoricide and filicide. Do you accept?”

Like a cuckoo throwing an egg off the nest.

Forgive me, dearest ███ ███.

I am unworthy of you, let alone this alternate incarnation of yourself.

Morax inhaled deeply. He remains in his head, yet he can't escape the present. The more time he spent searching inside himself for solutions over his approximately 6000 years in Teyvat, the more evident it became what the sensible path of action was. With open eyes, Morax welcomed the return of the present. He observed the vivid hues of existence. In the vicinity, he heard Jing Yuan's pet cuckoo bird. But most of all, he felt his age.

Whatever time was appropriate to dream of a family— it had long passed him.

I am but an old man who deserves to fade away quietly.

And he…

Has the same vigor Morax once had.

That obsessed look.

That tight, suffocating hold.

Just like staring at a reflection of himself, centuries passed.

Jing Yuan, too, was a man depraved. Worse, he is a man who lost everything, clinging only to (Y/n) as his only solace in Teyvat.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan took a walk with you, with one arm draping around your shoulder to ward off those he deemed unwanted.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan brags about you with his men in each available opportunity, socially claiming you his.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan glares at someone who got too close when he thought you weren’t looking, pushing suitors away.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan rarely talks about his story and would rather talk about something you had done, making you a large part of himself.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan only cares about you, and not even a sliver for himself.

He would rather not see him destroy himself the way he had done long ago.

And just like that, the General got rid of his greatest rival— Liyue’s archon and your husband from another life.

He is out of the nest.

“I accept.”

May June can now message Jing Yuan

429 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 4 months

Text

Amen

Pairing: Suguru Geto x f! Reader

Synopsis: No matter the severity of your actions, Suguru would never actually hurt a member of his sorcerer family. Luckily, there are other ways he can think of to punish you. It's for your own good.

Warnings: Explicit smut, dubcon, possessive behavior, manipulation

Tags: Punishment, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dirty talk, vibrators, bondage, orgasm torture, cunnilingus, humiliation

Word Count: 10.4k

Notes: This story is for @laurenzel. I think this can be almost seen as a companion to my previous Gojo story since there's similar toxic motives and means used by the men, but a difference in method.

“Would you care to join me tonight?” was what Geto said to you, smiling so sweetly, so gently. He said it like an offer, or a question, but you both knew the answer. It was the same as it had been since the very first time he asked, since the first time he kissed you, since the first night you spent together.

And you, finally given direction in the big, confusing world, couldn’t even conceive of saying no to Geto. You didn’t have to do, say, or think anything on your own—just follow him. And you did. Happily, you did, thinking nothing of the offer other than how pleased you were that he asked.

Chills prickled over your bare arms and legs when you walked into his room. The air felt a few degrees too cool, especially when you were accustomed to the August heat. Everything about his room seemed cold. It was furnished in stark contrast to the simple, traditional temple façade the rest of the complex maintained outwardly. Black painted walls, a hard floor, and ebony furniture upholstered with dark leathers and suedes. There was a flat, modern utilitarianism to the room despite its luxury, all at once inviting and off putting. The silky black sheets and dusky saturation of velvety vanilla and citrus lent a sex appeal to the room that you inextricably associated with Geto.

“Will you help me with this?” he asked, gesturing to his clothes.

“Yes, of course,” you said, rushing to his side to help him undress. Even though the vestments Geto wore were for show, the articles were genuine and required careful handling. A perfect costume needed to be authentic. You unfastened the kasaya first, hanging it up.

“I think,” he said while your hands were busy, “we need to talk about what you did.”

You paused, turning to him with your brow furrowed, your stomach dropping in response to the accusatory tone of his voice. “What did I do?”

“You killed Kurokawa.”

Your frown deepened, your chest tightening with a harsh burst of guilt. “How do you know that?”

Geto raised an eyebrow. That was the wrong thing to ask, it made you look more guilty than you were. Besides, the answer was obvious. He knew everything. You shook your head fast, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t sound like an excuse.

“I… I thought you would be happy I took care of him,” you said. “He was causing trouble. He was a bad man.”

“If you thought I would be pleased, why didn’t you tell me right away?”

There were reasons, weren’t there? Good ones, explanations that could help you smooth this over. Beneath the weight of his gaze, you couldn’t think of any of them. “I… I don’t, um… I was going to, but I didn’t want to distract you or anything. I’m not… I didn’t mean-”

“No. You didn’t tell me because you knew you were wrong,” Geto stated, telling you so directly that you couldn’t help but believe it.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“To be clear, I’m not concerned with his death,” Geto told you. “I’m worried about you. About what you might do without my intervention. I have been for a while.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you said. That was probably the most true thing you could say, the sentiment that defined your existence. You did not understand.

“I like to think that you’ve grown since you joined the family, but sometimes I don’t know if I can trust you to act with a clear head. Kurokawa was a doctor, wasn’t he?”

You bristled at the reminder, mentally pushing back on the idea that you did it for such a personal reason. “He was… he was dangerous,” you argued. “He wanted to get the police involved.”

“That isn’t my point,” Geto explained. “You acted out on your own. I knew Kurokawa was causing problems, but I didn't ask you to kill him. He still had value to me, in his own way." He paused, considering you with pursed lips. "If you told me what you did immediately, maybe I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but as it is, all this proves is that you haven’t moved beyond your past experiences. I can’t trust you."

You bit your lip, swaying back as if those words had been a physical blow, only becoming more confused. Completely and utterly confused about how killing somebody who was a bad man, killing a hateful monkey upset Geto. You did it for him. You did it because the man was evil, and because he said terrible things, and because he was a hideous embodiment of the type of person who would see you locked up tight in another drug dispensing, mind-numbing, monkey hospital.

All you could understand was that you had disappointed Geto, and the cutting violence of his doubt cut deep into your chest as physically as a knife.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“Are you going to finish this?” Geto asked rather than acknowledge your apology, pulling at his collar. You nodded, rushing back to his side to untie the obi sash and fold it, helping him shrug off his black yukata to hang that up as well.

Left in a tight undershirt, a pair of loose pants, and socks he was quick to peel off and toss aside, Geto-sama emerged from his costume looking a decade younger and twice as dangerous. Like this, he was Suguru. You weren’t equals, but you were more than a little familiar. Although, you weren’t sure if you would dare to be so friendly with him now that you understood you were in trouble.

Before, you assumed you were here because he desired you. Now that felt presumptuous and silly.

You averted your eyes and stepped back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The silence physically hurt. Apologies built up like a dam in your head, stopping any other sort of thought from getting through as guilt brewed and boiled in your stomach. Worse, you couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe you had knowingly acted against Geto, against the family, because of what Kurokawa represented to you. Maybe you couldn’t be trusted. And, if that was true, maybe you deserved his anger and all of the terrible things that followed anger.

“Are you nervous?” Suguru asked.

“No,” you said quickly.

“Liar. I can hear it. Your heart is racing. You’re scared. Is it me?” He nudged your chin up with the side of his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes and the little smile he wore. “Are you frightened of me?”

“You’re angry,” you said, shrinking back. “Angry with me.”

“Oh,” Suguru hummed thoughtfully, “so you’re scared that I’m going to punish you. Is that it?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“You’re right, I am.”

Your breath caught before you shook your head fast, panicking. “No, you… I’m really sorry. I mean it, I was just trying to… He deserved to die.”

“I understand,” Suguru said, “and I appreciate what you say you were trying to do. The problem is that I don’t believe that was your motive. That is why I’m upset.” He ran his fingers through his hair, putting into a messy bun. “Do you understand the distinction?”

You blinked fast, feeling the horrible bite of tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now… what do you think would be a fitting punishment?”

You looked up at him in stark shock, hoping desperately that you misunderstood him. He didn’t clarify anything, simply waiting for you to answer. You shook your head again, your mouth opening and closing before you managed a meek, “I don’t know.”

“But you agree, don’t you?” he asked, going over to his chest of drawers. Suguru looked at you over his shoulder, eying you up and down, drinking your awkward nerves. “You deserve to be punished for your disobedience.”

You exhaled sharply, conflicted about what kind of answer to give. More importantly, what kind of answer he wanted. If you were smarter, you would be able to talk your way out of this situation. If you were better attuned to Suguru’s needs, you would be able to give him what he wanted. If you were loyal, he wouldn’t have been mad in the first place. Those thoughts weren’t helpful, all you could do was stare and try to solve the puzzle of his mood. You had seen that little smirk on his face when he teased Nanako, but also when he killed non-jujutsu sorcerers that had outlived their usefulness.

“You’re really asking me?” you finally got out, the only response you could muster.

His back was turned to you now as he looked through the drawer, but you saw his shoulder raise in a casual shrug. “I’m curious.”

Your gut instinct was to deny that you deserved punishment to try and spare yourself, but you held that impulse. You had already agreed that you did something wrong, so denying that you deserved punishment could make things worse. Then again, if you agreed, then maybe he would take that as permission to do even worse. Either one could potentially upset him too, because it would prove that you didn’t know what he wanted. Suguru did nothing to alleviate your nervous indecision as he turned around, holding an unmarked red box, watching you with that enigmatic smirk.

“If you think I do,” you said carefully, “then-”

“No,” he said, cutting you off. “I am asking if you acknowledge that you deserve punishment for what you have done.”

“I won’t do it again,” you told him, your voice soft. “I promise.”

Suguru frowned. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I know, but it’s true,” you insisted. Rather than relent to your distress, his eyes narrowed dangerously, finally giving you some indication about the response he actually wanted. “I do!” You said quickly. “I…” The words were thick like syrup, awkward to get out. “I deserve to be punished.”

Suguru smiled, setting the box on the bed and sitting on the black leather footboard bench, his legs spread wide and comfortable and head slightly tilted.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked softly.

“Hurt you?” Suguru asked, raising a thin eyebrow. “I would never hurt you. I don’t think you’re likely to learn from pain anyway, hm? It wasn’t effective for your parents or doctors.”

“But… but you said you were going to punish me?” you asked, looking between him and the box with an increasing amount of anxiety.

“Take off your clothes.”

Your jaw dropped. “I… My… You mean it?”

He raised both eyebrows, daring you to deny him. You clutched at the front of your dress, your shoulders curling in.

“But why?” you asked. He immediately gave you a pointed look, like you were stupid. “This… it’s… You want to…?” You couldn’t even finish the question, the whole thing was so divorced from any coherence you could wrap your head around.

“You're allowed to say no and leave, I won’t stop you,” Suguru told you. He considered that for a moment, his head falling to the side. “If you stay, we’ll switch to your safe word rather than no. You remember it, don’t you?”

Safe word? You remembered him establishing that the first night he allowed you into his bed, but you hadn’t really thought much of it. Why would you ever want him to stop? Now the thought of it made you feel a little cold, and not because of the air conditioner valiantly chugging away in an attempt to keep the August heat at bay. It had taken a few days to come to terms with sleeping with Suguru after it first happened, but this was unreal in an entirely different way. You felt like you were looking down a very long, dark tunnel, like you were hopelessly and utterly lost.

“I do,” you said faintly. “I remember.”

“It’s your choice then.”

You winced, unable to look at him. You weren’t going to leave. That was unthinkable. The idea of undressing in front of him like it was some sort of show wasn’t especially comfortable either, but you understood that you would do it. “That’s… it’s embarrassing.”

“I’ve noticed,” Suguru said. “You don’t want to think of yourself as the type of woman who would strip for a man. But you are, and you will. For me.”

You flushed darker, avoiding his eyes. Trying to keep your breathing from going completely out of control, you nodded. It was easier to obey. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you left his room right now, where you would go, how you would feel. It wasn’t about you, it was about what you had done to disappoint Suguru, and how you would make it right. He wanted to know that you were loyal, that you had left behind the pathetic wretch you used to be.

Humiliating as it was, he was helping you. That was all he had ever done.

“Yes, sir.”

With shaking hands, you unzipped your dress. Considering the summer heat, you were wearing as little as possible. Three articles of clothing separating you from his eyes. You weren’t sure if that was better, making it so the process of undressing wasn’t so drawn out, or worse because it meant you couldn’t stall.

“Keep going,” Suguru said when you hesitated with your thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of your panties. Closing your eyes, you pushed them down. The only positive you could think of was that you had the foresight to shave the night before. Ever since the first night you slept together you’d been taking personal grooming extremely seriously. Removing your bra was the worst of it all, but you dutifully undid the clasps and pushed the straps down your arms. He had seen you naked before, you reasoned. Even if you were disappointing, he still had asked to see you. It was fine.

If Suguru wanted it, it was fine.

“You’re too pretty to be so self-conscious,” he told you in a very calm, matter-of-fact way.

You tried not to shuffle awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your stomach to hide their shaking. “Thank you,” you said softly, unable to meet his eyes even if you could feel them heavily on your flushing skin.

“Come here,” Suguru ordered. In your peripheral, you saw his hand raise, a single finger curling to draw you towards him.

You obeyed on awkward feet, glad to close the distance. He sat up to meet you face to face, having to look up at you for once and pulling you closer. You automatically parted your lips to kiss him. That was something you knew how to do. But his parted lips only brushed the corner of your mouth. When you tried to tilt your head to catch him, Suguru pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open—when had you closed them?—to see him smirking at the little trick.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, releasing you.

Nerves knotted and tangled in your stomach. There was something hot about his detached control, but you weren’t sure you liked it either. Vulnerability was discomfort. And still, you knew better than to argue or question. Trying to preserve as much of your modesty as was possible, you got onto his bed. It was easier to comply. Better to be obedient like he wanted. You didn’t want to disappoint him again.

“These are for you,” Suguru said, finally revealing the contents of the red box by lifting the glossy lid.

You stared into the box with curiosity, and then with a sharp pang of recognition. After that, nerves. Dread. Excitement. Blinking over and over didn’t change what you saw, there was no mistake about what lay inside. A lot of leather. Some chains. Scarf-like ties. You were pretty sure the wand-shaped item was a vibrator.

Suguru choked you last time you had sex, and he pinned your wrists down and pulled your hair and left marks on your thighs and chest, but this was different. Dangerous. This was scary.

“Geto-sama…” you said nervously, sticking to the formal address in the hopes that he would understand the sincerity of your doubt. “I’m not…”

“As I said, you’re allowed to stop this at any time,” he said, dropping the lid back onto the box with a crisp snap. “I would never force you into anything. If you truly feel bad for what you have done and want to prove yourself to me, I shouldn’t need to coerce you.”

Guilt and nerves writhed in your stomach. And excitement, always excitement for the simple reason that it was Suguru. You would do anything for him, wouldn’t you? He had saved you. You disappointed him, it was only right that you did as you were told. You pushed the lid off again, forcing a sort of resolve. Your heart beat like a frantic war drum in your chest, and you were flushing so hotly it felt like a fever.

“What’s this all for?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“You won’t be able to hold still on your own,” he replied simply. “Besides, I think you’ll look sexy like this. I was waiting for an opportunity to try it.”

The bottom of your stomach gave way to anxious lust. You licked your lips, trying to calm yourself down.

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Put them on for me,” Suguru said, pulling out four of the leather cuffs. Your eyes widened, your lips parting to argue that as a step too far. It would be so much easier for you if he did it himself, if you didn’t have to actively engage with putting yourself in a literal bind.

Although maybe that was the point. This was punishment.

Prove your loyalty. You could do that for him.

Despite your forced mental affirmation, the whole task seemed too daunting for a moment, you had a nervously suffocating sense like drowning, but you forced that down. You would do anything for Suguru. That’s what this was about. Proving to him that you were loyal, that you would do as he said. That you were devoted.

You did the wrist cuffs first, slipping the first over your left hand and tightening the strap with your right. There was only one size; they would fit snugly. Thick chains hung from both cuffs. Although they weren’t as bad as pure metal bracelets, the leather wouldn’t be kind to your skin if you resisted too much. Tightening the strap on the right cuff was even worse since you were working with your non-dominant hand.

“Do you need help?” Suguru asked, laughing at your frustrated attempts to get the tongue through the buckle.

“Don’t laugh, please,” you begged, talking very softly to hide your increasingly unstable emotions. “I’m trying.”

“Here,” he said indulgently, “let me.” Suguru held out his hands for you to let him finish securing the cuff. “Do you need help with your ankles?”

“No, I… Thank you,” you said, unable to look at his expression. You could do this. You had to do this.

Still, your hands trembled unsteadily. When you nervously fumbled with the leather strap around your ankle, he laughed again.

“Don’t look,” you mumbled. The chains hanging from your wrists playfully clinked against the chains on your ankles.

“I have to make sure you do it properly. You could hurt yourself.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whispered, more petulant than anything.

“I know,” Suguru told you sweetly, “but you’ve been such a good girl so far.”

Your breath caught at the praise. At the very least, he looked away to pull off his shirt. You used the distraction to get your ankles secured, watching him remove his pants with your hands between your legs to retain some modesty. Suguru, stripped to his boxers, surveyed your handiwork, a little smile growing on his face.

“What?” you asked nervously.

“Given how shy you are, I thought it would take more than this to convince you to do this for me. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or impressed.”

You frowned with a twisting sense of betrayal, but he cut off your displeasure by grabbing your legs to yank you towards him, leaning over the bed so he could kiss you.

Before Suguru, you hadn’t really understood what the point of kissing was. It was an act of affection you mirrored with others because it was what people did. When Suguru licked your lips open for himself, you understood. Any touch of his body against yours had a potent effect, but the openly intimate domination of his tongue against yours, his fingers slipping up your hair to tilt your head, the hand on your bare waist, it was enough to clear your mind all over again. Igniting the purest type of motivation—lust.

You wanted to show him your devotion. You wanted him to know you were sorry. You clung to his shoulders, hoping he could feel it.

All too soon, Suguru pulled back, his lips hovering inches from your own. You tried to follow, but he held you in place by your hair.

“I’m impressed,” he said, answering his comment from before. “I admire your dedication. I only wish it extended to your actions. I can’t trust you until I know you obey me.”

“I do,” you said. “I…I will.”

“Not yet.” Suguru didn’t wait for your response, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, your cheek, and then tilting your head to whisper in your ear. “Move back. I’ll take care of the rest,” he told you, his husky voice making you shudder.

“Yes, sir,” you muttered so softly you wondered if he heard you. When Suguru pulled away, you scooted back to sit in the center of his bed, waiting and watching with equal parts nerves and anticipation. He picked through the red box again, pulling out another set of leather cuffs and a bundle of those silky scarves.

“Open your legs,” he ordered in a business-like voice as he joined you on the bed, crawling up to you and readying one of the leather straps. The sudden shift of tone surprised you, throwing you off all over again.

“What’s that?” you asked nervously. He gave you a sharp look and you relented, opening your legs. Being exposed so brazenly made your skin crawl, but he paid no attention to your naked body, wrapping the strap around your thigh and fastening it, repeating the process on your other leg.

“What is it that the monkey said to upset you?” Suguru asked casually as he tested the straps for give, deeming them satisfactory. The conversational tone burst your bubble of rose tinged intimacy, sending your thoughts back to unpleasant places. “I assume something set you off.”

“I… um…” As if revealing a magic trick, he unwound a length of the red scarf-like fabric, distracting you from a question you hadn’t really understood in the first place.

“Or did he try to attack you?” Suguru pushed, neatly doubling the scarf and pulling it around your back. He had to sit close as he blindly tied the knot and the cashmeran twilight scent of his skin filled your senses, you held your breath when he pulled away just to keep it close for a moment longer.

“Have you done this before?” you asked as he wound the scarf around your chest and shoulders with a practiced hand, searching for a distraction from the embarrassment.

“Does it bother you if I have?” Suguru asked.

“No, sir.”

He had to lean forward again to fasten the final knot on your back. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “What happened?”

You winced. “He called me delusional. He said I’m just a… a bitch in your harem, and that I’d go down with you.”

“I see,” Suguru said, pulling back, his expression impassive.

“I’m really sorry, Geto-sama,” you said.

“Are you worried he’s right?” Suguru asked, his voice so saccharinely sweet it had to be mocking.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“You are special to me,” Suguru told you sweetly, petting your hair.

“You’re special to me too,” you said, eager to try and express your adoration. “Very, very special.”

“I’m doing this because you’re so special to me. I can help you grow, and help you move on. I can show you the benefits of an honest life without the petty influence of the weak, but I cannot force your obedience. I need you to choose to listen to me, to obey me.”

“That is my choice,” you said.

“Haven’t you heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” Suguru countered, revealing the final trick of his little magic show. The chains on your wrists connected to those on your ankles with a few inches of slack, your ankle cuffs connected to the straps on your thighs, and the loose ends of scarves from the harness he had just finished tying were threaded into the D-rings on your thigh straps. Unable to balance upright, you rolled onto your back, fully exposed and unable to do much of anything about it. “This is your chance to make amends.”

Suguru put his hand on your bare chest, right above your racing heart as it beat against your ribs. “You’re scared again,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Do you not believe that?”

“I’m just…” you squirmed uncomfortably, unable to articulate what you felt. You didn’t know what you felt, couldn’t figure out anything beyond the intensely physical embarrassment and the panicked disquiet of being bound and exposed.

“You know what to do to make this stop,” he pointed out, his hand dragging down your chest to your flinching stomach. “Just say the word, and I’ll let you leave.”

Suguru told you that almost like it was a joke. He was daring you to use the safe word and stop him, to show him that you weren’t as devoted as you claimed. His hand reached your pelvis and you whimpered, your hips wiggling in an undecided way. Did you want him to touch you, or were you nervous for that part? You couldn’t tell. The feelings were the same.

He finally dropped over you, both of his hands resting on your ass before brushing up your thighs, pressing them further apart as he kissed you with an open mouth. Suguru’s tongue urgently met yours, teasing enough to invite your active and enthusiastic participation. To show him how much you wanted him. Of course you did.

With a surprising bite on your lower lip, Suguru left your mouth to move down, licking and kissing his way across your jaw, following the line of your neck. He stopped there, sucking hard right above your pulse until you shuddered hard, making a soft, helpless noise. Your hands anxiously jerked, but all that did was snap the chains taut. Taking his time, his hand trailed down your thigh, his fingernails scraping the skin, until he reached your pussy.

When Suguru’s fingers made contact with the sensitive flesh, you yelped, and he bit your neck hard enough to draw that yelp out into a pathetic keen. Your attempt to free your hands so you could push him back served only to pull your legs open wider.

“Was that too much?” Suguru asked, lightly tracing your slit.

“Hurts,” you said, your breathing hard and fast. He chuckled warmly, finding your clit and tracing little circles over it, just teasing. You whimpered.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked, his lips brushing your skin as he moved down your chest.

You made a choked, conflicted sound in your throat, any coherent response leaving your head the second his mouth closed around your nipple. Electric pulses of pleasure zipped down to your core, made that much more intense by the fingers on your clit. Suguru added more pressure against it, the weight sweetened by the friction of his calloused fingertips. Your hips rolled into the touch, your back arching for every delicious movement of his tongue or teeth on your nipple.

A hoarse wail left your mouth when he released you with a wet pop, moving to do the same to your other nipple. His fingers were truly grinding against your clit at this point. It wasn’t the sweet enticement of pleasure, but a brute force motion that guaranteed you would come fast.

You whined and moaned and shuddered, fighting the restraints. Sweat slicked up your skin, chafing beneath the restraints as you jerked, your body going taut to prepare for the sudden orgasm. You managed a choked, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” And then that tension snapped. It was good, but the rush was too fast and fleeting, fizzling itself out before you could savor the feeling. All it really did was make you want more.

With another lewdly wet pop, Suguru pulled off your nipple and sat up, his hand retreating from between your legs. “How did that feel?” he asked.

You swallowed, nodding fast. “‘s good. Tha-aa-nk you, sir.”

“It’s interesting to me how much more sensitive girls are after coming,” Suguru said, teasing you with his fingers lightly tracing over your slit. “It’s almost obscene. Men need time, but you already want more, don’t you?”

You shuddered, panting and flushed. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He smirked, although you couldn’t say you really understood the joke. Your entire body twitched, the chains clinking, and he licked his lips, looking at your flushed body like he was eying up a meal.

Your eyes squeezed shut when he ran two fingers from your entrance, dragging a smear of slick arousal up to your clit.

“No, don’t close your eyes,” Suguru said, beginning to draw patterns over your swelling clit. “Look at me.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze despite how overwhelming it was to be watched while he touched you so intimately. You squirmed, inhaling sharply through your teeth, already feeling the tantalizing build.

“What about you?” you asked. “You don’t have to, um… um…” Blinking fast, breathing hard, your words scattered like dust and you felt the same tightening in your core, the sparkling promise of release. At the exact moment you were about to come again, Suguru pressed his hand flat between your legs, denying you that final push over the edge.

Whining and desperate and so, so close, your hips bucked upward, desperate to come again. It was already too late, out of your grasp. “Geto-sama, please, I was-”

“No,” he said simply.

“What?”

“No. I’m not going to let you come again. I’ve already given you one more than you deserve.”

“No,” you whispered, horrified. “You… You can’t.”

“No?” he repeated, his fingers tracing your clit slowly, with the barest amount of pressure. “You remember why I’m doing this, don’t you? I’m punishing you.” He pressed more intently against your clit. Unable to comprehend denial, your body began the process of drawing up tight. “You need to learn to be obedient. You have to learn to take whatever I see fit to give you.”

“I am,” you gasped out. “I do, I-I will, I’m…” Your back arched, your arms and legs falling aside as if to make an offering of your body in the hopes that he would let you come this time. “I’m sorry that I… that I did that,” you babbled, your pussy tightening around nothing as your body got ready to come. “I’m really… really… I’m-”

Suguru stopped just when you were on the precipice again, tapping your folds as if to mock your need. You squinted at him, your chest hitching a heavy breath, tears pricking your eyes. “But I said… Oh…” You didn’t finish what you were saying, too distracted by the slick slide of his fingers inside of you. So good. You swallowed hard, your cunt squeezing his fingers desperately as his fingers curled, dragging against your g-spot as they pulled out before thrusting forward.

“If your words meant anything, you wouldn’t need to be punished in the first place,” Suguru pointed out, although you weren’t paying very close attention, your body awkwardly trying to roll into his fingers as they slowly fucked you. He touched your clit with his other hand, once again ensuring that you would come quickly.

Too quickly, really. The intensity of pleasure shocked you, especially since you were so sensitive, desperate for more. “Please, can I… will you please… Please?” you begged, your animal need curbed slightly by fear.

“You should know that no other man will do this for you,” Suguru said. “No one else will ever care for you the way I do.”

You nodded fast, knowing that was the truth. No other person in the world had ever been as kind or compassionate to you as Suguru. Nobody had ever wanted you, or made you feel important, or given you purpose. You loved him. You felt that affection swell alongside your building orgasm.

He would let you come this time, he wasn’t slowing down. His fingers made a sickening wet schlick as they pumped in and out of your pussy, working in time with the finger on your clit. You were there, your body taut and ready and desperate and-

A wail escaped you when he stopped at the last moment, your entire body jerking in desperation to reclaim your ruined orgasm. As soon as it was gone, he returned to touching you in the same way, vigorously chasing you back to the edge and abandoning you seconds before you could get off.

“Please,” you begged.

“I told you no,” Suguru reminded you, adding a third finger to pump and curl into your pussy as if to punctuate the cruel statement. You were off the edge now, but your body still stupidly strove to take more pleasure. You blinked tears, confused and needy and trembling, your breathing shallow.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. The touch on your clit had you throwing your head back, your nostrils flared and teeth clenched. Chains clicked together when you tried to free your arms, but it was a fruitless struggle. You didn’t want to respond to his touch in the same way, you needed a reprieve, but there was no escape. You were sensitive. Your body remembered coming once, and that was enough of an incentive to try to get more.

“You can always stop me,” Suguru said. “If it becomes too much.”

“It’s…” you told him, although your attempt to seem brave was weakened by your breathy, pathetic voice. “I’m… I can take whatever you give me. I’m…” You sobbed, overwhelmed by the drag of his fingers against your g-spot. He barely had to put any pressure on your clit, it was so swollen beneath his teasing fingers. “Please, sir. I just… Just one, please?”

“I already let you come once,” he reminded you, amused.

You moaned miserably, your head tossing back and forth as you readied yourself for another orgasm. You hoped that maybe if you could just come before he noticed, then that would be enough to soothe the horrible ache, the fearful deprivation he kept stoking to a blaze.

It was there, right at your fingertips, on the tip of your tongue, and Suguru hummed happily when he suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. You shouted, thrashing against your bindings. They all held, keeping you helpless beneath him.

“Please, I… please.”

“No,” Suguru said, slowly pushing just one finger into you. You sobbed when he used it to massage your g-spot. Not giving you any real pressure or weight or friction, just that constant reminder of the pleasure you had been denied.

“I can’t,” you said tearfully, straining to get more out of that single finger like a starving woman being thrown crumbs.

“You can,” Suguru told you. His word was gospel. It didn’t matter what you thought.

He pulled his finger out before you could get too used to it, only to return with three. You choked, your body jerking hard enough against the restraints to hurt, suddenly thrown into high gear as he properly finger-fucked you, bouncing your entire body.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t touching your clit, you could get off just on this. Your body was thrumming with denied pleasure and you wanted it so bad you could scream.

“Yes, yes, please, yes—No!”

You were properly sobbing this time when he stopped, almost horrified by the intensity of your body’s disappointment when his fingers pulled out. You had no idea how he was getting the timing so perfect, but it was worse than if he was just hurting you. Suguru shoved his fingers into your open mouth while you were still reeling, smearing the taste of your pussy onto your tongue. You didn’t need his instruction to suck on them, hoping that the display of thoughtless obedience would earn you some leniency.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, almost enough to make you choke. When he pulled them out, he didn’t linger, kissing a line down your stomach. Your arms fought the restraints when you realized his intentions because you weren’t sure you could handle feeling his mouth on you like this, not if he was going to keep denying you.

“No,” you whined. “Please, I… I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” Suguru said calmly, not even bothering to look up at you.

A heavy, almost guttural moan left your mouth when his tongue licked past your folds, tossing you right back into the abyss of lustful need. All he had to do was brace his forearm across the backs of your thighs and you were unable to do anything, your trapped arms and legs twitching, your feet kicking uselessly into the empty air, the chains connecting them to your wrists clicking.

Suguru was good at this, switching between flat-tongued licks and pointed patterns, closing his lips around your clit until you were choking out these pathetic little chirps, your body reacting in a way entirely out of your control.

And when you were there, right at the very edge, he pressed a kiss to your clit and looked up at you from beneath his dark eyelashes.

You sobbed, throwing your head back in a childish display of disappointment.

“You’re alright. Breathe,” Suguru said.

“Please,” you begged.

Suguru hummed as he lowered his head, shaking it side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. Your toes curled, your hands forming pathetic fists.

It didn’t take much to build you up all over again, your entire body was wired and ready. You didn’t think you had ever felt so aware of yourself. Your skin, your pussy, your heart, your body, everything crackled and blazed. What was he doing, drawing kanji with his tongue? You didn’t know, but it felt amazing. You chased that feeling knowing you shouldn’t, thinking that maybe this time, maybe if you were fast enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe-

“No, please, I just wanna…” Suguru’s tongue stilled and he pulled away, watching you fall apart at yet another denied orgasm. “No!”

He casually pressed two fingers into you, massaging them against that spongy spot with a wet squish that was beyond obscene. “You know what to say to make me stop,” he told you.

“I know,” you said, wishing you could cover your face, wishing for some point of sanity here in this lust-mad haze. “I don’t want… Please, Geto-sama, I just wanna come, please.”

“Oh?” he said, his other hand returning to rest on your pelvic bone to playfully tease your clit. “Do you think you deserve that?”

“I…” You tried desperately to figure out the correct answer by looking at his expression, but you couldn’t tell and his hands kept you distracted. Deserve didn’t matter, all you could think was that you wanted to come. “Yes?” you said, hoping very much that was the correct response, practically praying for the torment to end. His fingers slowed and you let out an embarrassing little keen. “Ah… No, no I…” His expression still didn’t change, leaving you scrambling. Your chest hiccupped with a sob, your confused spiral boiling down to the pit of desperate need. “I don’t know.”

Rather than respond, Suguru’s head lowered between your legs once more to tongue your clit in time with his fingers. You felt a hot rush of hope that you got something right, that he was finally going to let you come. Your entire body surged towards the feeling, going so stiff that it made your trembling muscles ache.

And there, right on the edge, he stopped. You didn’t have it within you to do anything other than cry, openly weeping at this point. If he were only teasing you it would be one thing, but he was purposefully working you right up to the edge and then abandoning you there. It was the feeling of being unable to sneeze amplified to a million, that torturous feeling of almost.

“I’ll do anything, please,” you told him, your voice coming out broken.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t before?” Suguru asked. You opened your mouth to argue, only to realize that it didn’t matter. Nothing you said or did mattered, you were helpless to him. You had already surrendered everything else, the only thing you could do was obey and hope for his mercy.

You understood. He didn’t want you to beg. He wanted you to obey. To be good for him without question.

You could do that.

Suguru pushed his fingers back into you, repeating the whole process of working you up and abandoning you again. And again. And then he added his mouth. There were several times in your life you’d been pushed to the absolute brink of sanity, and right then you were convinced that you were going to go mad. But you grit your teeth and endured it. You had to. This was your punishment, and Suguru would decide when to end your misery.

You had to be good for him.

Had you ever been this wet? Swollen too, all of your blood flowing dangerously hot between your legs. It was disgusting, your pussy was sloppy and red and he barely had to touch your clit at all to build you right up to that edge. And it was just as easy to let you fall, disappointed and unfulfilled and growing increasingly, painfully distraught from the denial.

You beat your fists pathetically against the bed, hitting your head into the pillow like a madman. Air puffed out of your chest fast and hard enough to make your head spin, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.

Rather than continue the torture, Suguru grabbed your chin, dragging you out of your spiraling haze. His fingers were slick from being inside of you. You met his eyes through a veil of tears. “Have you had enough?” he asked, his voice wavering with a parody of pity. “I’m worried you’re going to hyperventilate.”

You blinked fast, trying to gather the coherence to respond. “I can… I can take it,” you told him with a miserable sort of resolve, your voice thin and breathless.

Suguru smiled. “Really? And if I said I intended to leave you like this, perhaps to go find a way to fix the mess you made?”

The thought was enough to make you sob. His attention was torturously uncomfortable, but being completely denied any resolution, being left bound and soaking wet and electrified with unfulfilled need, you almost would have rathered he hit you.

But you nodded, forcing yourself to accept it. Anything less would be to reject his authority over you, right? It would make you seem less loyal. “Anything,” you whispered.

“Ah, that look in your eyes is wonderful,” he cooed. “You mean it, don’t you?”

You nodded insistently. “I love you,” you told him, speaking without thought, saying it because it was true. “I’ll do… I’ll do anything.”

“Okay, I’ll let you come,” Suguru said, releasing your face so his hand could wander back down between your legs.

You made a weak noise, your body unconsciously jerking, straining towards him.

It was pathetic, he barely had to do anything, simply brushing his flat fingers in light circles over your swollen clit. And that was enough. Fear flooded your insides alongside the same frantic, hot rush of pleasure. All of your muscles contracted in a mass of sore, shaking muscles and bestial desperation because you were afraid he would stop again, afraid that he would deny you and there would be no recourse other than pathetic acceptance.

“Please, please, I-I love you,” you plead, your voice whispery, rough and desperate, borderline incoherent.

And he didn’t stop.

That wet, hot snap of release was one of the best things you had ever felt. You convulsed, chains clicking and leather chafing against your skin and his name spilling from your lips over and over. He worked you right through the orgasm. You were crying again, sobbing and shaking and sticky hot. It felt good. It felt like forgiveness.

“Another?” Suguru asked. Your eyes had been shut, but now they opened to see his smile.

You just shook your head, lacking the capacity to respond.

He didn’t wait, pushing three fingers into you while teasing your clit with his other hand. It forced your body through a surprisingly uncomfortable rubbery mixture of overstimulation and mindless need. It left you feeling like an elastic band being stretched and stretched. In spite of that feeling, a few solid, harsh pumps later and you were coming again, your pussy squeezing his fingers to keep them there while he worked you through it. There was very little drama to it, you were already wrung out. But it was good. Hot and wet and good.

Suguru didn’t stop. You fought the restraints, wanting to move, to writhe, to get more comfortable, to take some control back because you needed a moment to collect yourself.

“I really-” It was hard to speak. Hard to form the words. Hard to get them out. “Oh God, I—ah.”

Almost painfully sensitive, the rough pounding of his fingers against your g-spot started to register as too much. You fought the restraints, a different sort of panic setting in. To keep your body from rejecting the pleasure of his touch, Suguru doubled down against your clit, pressing a little harder. You had been starving, but now you were splitting full from the assault pleasure.

“Too—oo much,” you got out through your teeth, although it probably didn’t seem like it was too much when your back was arching accordingly, your pussy clamping down around his relentless fingers, that coiling buildup of release reaching its apex.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your fingers and toes clawing helplessly at the sheets as you came, practically choking on the hot feverish intensity of your orgasm.

“No, it’s not,” Suguru told you. His fingers slowed at least, and then pulled out. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, he immediately shuffled down the bed so he could situate his head back between your thighs.

You hissed, tensing up, your arms jerking against the restraints. Your clit was too sensitive for his tongue, he had to understand that. “You… You don’t… Have to,” you got out, your voice unsteady from how hard you were panting. “I don’t need-”

“Don’t worry,” Suguru said sweetly. “I’m not doing this for you.”

The wet, warm patterns he drew on your clit with his tongue sent you into a sort of delirium. No matter how sensitive you thought you were, it was intoxicatingly good. He focused entirely on what made your hips try to jump, what made you moan and whine. When he slipped two fingers into your pussy at the same time, you felt ready to lose it entirely. You were falling apart. Splitting at the seams. You came with a harsh cry, Weeping at the fizzling heat of pleasure.

Suguru didn’t stop. He just hummed and flattened his tongue and kept going, forcing you right past that sickening few seconds of sensory rejection and towards another orgasm. You could do it. You focused on that because even if you weren’t entirely sure you wanted more, you wanted to be good for him. How ungrateful would it be to not come when he was kind enough to eat you out?

Covered in the sickly shine of sweat and shaking so uncontrollably that it felt like the world itself was trembling, you came again.

When he was content you were done, Suguru stopped, pulling his fingers out with a final brush against your g-spot to make you whine, your body mindlessly writhing. He sat up, brushing back strands of sweaty black hair with the back of his hand.

You wilted in place, closing your eyes to focus on your breathing while he messed with something else. It was hard to collect yourself, but you could already tell that you would be sore tomorrow.

Hearing the shift of fabric, you opened your eyes to see Suguru remove his boxers. Despite your messily deteriorated state, the sight of his cock roused enough of your mind to focus. He was hard, the red-flushed head bobbed as he casually stroked himself which might have been for your benefit. Despite the sensory overload, your pussy tightened in anticipation of feeling him inside of you. If he fucked you and you did good enough to make him come, then you would be done. That was, at the very least, an end goal. One more thing you could endure for him, and then he would forgive you.

Suguru looked down at you with a fond smile, an expression that seemed more than a little cruel when he was stroking his dick, when he knew fully well that you were painfully oversensitive and this would make it that much worse.

“Should I make you beg?” he asked warmly, tapping the head against your painfully sensitive folds. You whimpered, squirming. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted this, and he probably knew that, but maybe that was the point. It didn’t matter, you wanted him, you wanted to be good for him, and that superseded every other thing you felt.

“Please, Geto-sama,” you begged, defaulting to the formal address because you needed him to accept it, because he was your lord and master in every way except by name, because you adored him and worshiped him, and you needed him to understand that. “Fuck me, please. I’m yours.”

“So vulgar,” he said, sliding his cock up and down through the wet, sloppy mess he’d made of your pussy. “I wonder what happened to the sweet, innocent girl you used to be.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Please.”

“I’m kidding,” Suguru told you, bracing one hand on your thigh to force your hips to curl while lining up his cock. “Aren’t you going to beg?”

“Please-”

“No, no. Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look up at him through tear-covered lashes. “Please, Geto-sama. Please, I’m yours.”

It was nothing for him to push in. You were wet and eager and it felt good. The feeling of his cock popping past the initial barrier of muscle and driving deeper into your pussy was one of the most uniquely pleasurable sensations you had ever felt, no matter what the context. It gave you the sort of fullness nothing could replicate, physically grounded you in a way nothing else ever had.

Since you were watching, you got to see his expression slacken into one of pleasure. Your pussy fluttered and squeezed, just making room for him.

You gave up keeping your eyes open as he drove himself even deeper, throwing your head back to just take it, to ignore the discomfort of his cock grinding against what felt like raw nerves. Suguru braced his hands on your thighs as he rocked his hips, taking his time.

“What does it feel like?” he asked.

“Good,” you said quickly, your tongue feeling loose like you were drunk. “So… So good.”

“I want to feel you come again,” he said. “You don’t mind, right?”

Your eyes fluttered open in confusion, shutting when he suddenly snapped his hips forward. “I can’t,” you whined. “Not again.”

“You can,” Suguru told you, grinding his cock as far into as he could, pressing as deep as possible, deep enough to make you whimper and writhe. Could he feel that? Could he feel the way you were shaking all the way down to your bones, feel the way your heart raced and fluttered and skipped?

And then you heard it turn on. When you heard the buzzing, your brain was wildly scattered enough that you thought it was an electric toothbrush which made no sense whatsoever. When he pressed the vibrator directly to your clit, you yelped, trying to buck it off but only serving to grind yourself into his cock.

A few little circles with the thing against your clit was all it took for you to choke, your body seizing up with another orgasm. You were acutely aware of the way it caused your cunt to squeeze and suck his cock, coating it in a fresh wave of arousal as he pulled out, making a horrible wet slap when he thrust back in.

Suguru groaned, keeping the vibrator directly on your clit as he chose a slow, steady pace.

“I can’t,” you tried to tell him, squirming and writhing with renewed vigor as your body started to tense up to come again. You couldn’t stop it and of course it felt good but it was too much, almost burning. You could handle it. If you came again it would hurt, especially coming with his cock grinding so persistently into your overly sensitive cunt.

“I thought you were being good,” Suguru said, rewarding you with a heavy, harsh thrust that made you wail. And another. That sent you over the edge, whimpering and shaking and incoherent with the overwhelming influx of heat and tingling overstimulation. Like the brittle snap when breaking a glow stick, or taking a crisp, juicy bite of an apple. It should have been good, but all you could feel was the wet, helpless violation of something ruined.

Suguru moaned openly, driving himself deep enough for his hips to slap your ass with each heavy thrust. Your head whipped from side to side, the only form of protest left to you. He kept moving the vibrator to make sure you didn’t get too accustomed to any one type of stimulation. It was torture. Horrible torture. You wouldn’t have thought coming could be so agonizing, and yet when you drew up for another sharp, shuddery orgasm you couldn’t recognize it as anything else.

“Is this better or worse than before?” Suguru asked, his words stuttered with each hard thrust.

“I don’t… I can’t…” You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything except convulse and cry and come. Again.

You didn’t understand.

“You don’t know?” he asked, breathy yet amused. “You’ll have to—to tell me later.”

The problem was that you had no place to think. You were too full. Suguru continued fucking you hard and steady. All you could hear was the slick slapping of wet skin and that infernal buzzing. There was so much weight behind every movement, like he was trying to batter his way into your womb. Each thrust was followed by a whimper or moan or cry. And the relentless vibrator against your clit. It hurt. It burned.

“I don’t… don’t…”

“You’re… not done,” Suguru told you, his voice heavy and breaking with exertion. “Come again.”

You weren’t sure if you were actually crying anymore, or just sobbing and panting and so sweaty it felt like you were crying. You couldn't form any coherent words, or even incoherent rejections. So you obeyed, the taste of blood on your tongue and stars dotting your vision, your pussy burning and inner walls pulsing around his cock as you came again. Suguru groaned, his lovely lips parted and eyes closed.

“One more,” he demanded. “Just… Just one… More.” That word was punctuated with a hard thrust and an especially cruel grind of the vibrator against your overstimulated clit. There was no point in saying no, or even believing it wasn’t possible. He knew more than you did. You didn’t know anything.

With a miserable whine, you came again, although at this point it felt like there was just a long, helpless flow of overstimulation marked with waves of overbearing heat, and then your pussy tightened around his cock and it dragged cruelly against your g-spot, and that was all you could manage before you were tossed back into the mindless daze of agonizing excess.

“Even though it hurts, you’re…” He didn’t finish that breathless thought, although his amused smile went away when his hips suddenly stuttered and he fell forward, his forearm resting by your shoulder.

Mercifully, Suguru shut the vibrator off, letting it fall somewhere to the side, bracing his other arm on the bed next to you as he sought his own end. Your arms and legs fell to the side, slack except for when your muscles spasmed or jerked. Every thrust added to the relentless cycle of too much, especially from this angle, you could feel the way your body worked itself up to come again, responding to his pleasure as if it were your own.

“Geto-sama… Suguru please,” you begged and there was a chance he couldn’t make out that you were attempting to form actual words, but even with your sanity fraying at the edges from his torture, you wanted him to come. You wanted to know there was a reason for your complete unraveling, that you had a real, good purpose, some sort of justification to exist.

Suguru forced your knees all the way up to your chest, pushing his cock as deep as possible as he came, working himself through it with shallow thrusts and these intoxicatingly sexy stuttered moans. Distantly, beyond the hellish, sweaty shell of your shaking body, you had the distinct thought that everything was worth it just to hear him moan like that. Just to be rewarded by his pleasure. Because you loved him. Because you belonged to him. Both of you were flushed hot and disturbingly slick with sweat and it hurt for him to be pushing so deep. Out of all the little cruelties he had subjected you to, the fact that you were unable to hold onto him like you wanted was one of the worst.

When Suguru pulled out, that hurt too. Every part of your body hurt. He left you to fall bonelessly limp onto the bed, rolling around to lay next to you.

In the relative quiet, your ears rang with a tinny discordance, paired with the engine roar of rushing blood. Your tongue was sandpaper in your mouth—little wonder, you had no idea how you had any liquid left in your body—and your limbs hurt from being stuck in the bound position for so long, but you couldn’t say you wanted to do anything to fix those things. As soon as the severity of those discomforts occurred to you, so were they carried away by the lapping tide of exhaustion. You felt like a sponge that had been squeezed dry. That’s probably what you looked like too.

“I didn’t expect it to be so… Difficult to contain myself,” Suguru mused softly. You didn’t respond, marveling at his voice. It was very nice. So soothing and smooth. Perfect, just like every other part of him. “It’s wrong, but necessary. You never learned the right way to live, I have to guide you. Otherwise you could hurt yourself. You could hurt our family.” There was more conviction in those words, like he was trying to argue against a point you hadn’t made.

Even if you were to be unbound, you wouldn’t dare close your legs. You couldn’t feel his cum slipping out, maybe you were too swollen. That would explain the painful heat.

“I wish I didn’t have to make my point like this,” Suguru continued. “But I'll do whatever it takes for you to get it.”

Mute confusion was the only thing you had left—you were barely aware enough to listen to what he was saying, let alone divine any meaning from the words. Your body hurt and you were thirsty and sweaty and tired. You didn’t think anything. You couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t even confusion, it was just pure exhaustion.

“Ah, you’re a mess,” Suguru said, sitting up. You groaned in disapproval when he started messing with the straps around your thighs, taking them off. Without the harness's support, your legs dropped limp onto the bed. Still, you didn’t move. You couldn’t fathom moving. “Hey,” he chided, “don’t go to sleep.”

You grunted unhappily.

“Will you open your eyes?” Suguru asked, touching your fever-hot cheek. After a second, you did, meeting his gaze with your own dazed, blank stare. His expression was tender, you thought. So kind, so sweet, so gentle. “I need you to listen to me now, hm?”

You made a sound to show that you were listening, looking up at his beautiful face with a marveling sort of adoration. Suguru really was beautiful. It was little wonder so many people thought he was a holy man. He undid the chains keeping your hands and ankles connected, letting your arms flop lifelessly into the sweaty sheets.

“I forgive you,” Suguru told you, his eyes scanning your body slowly, taking in the sweat and the reddish flush and the twitching, trembling of your muscles with some kind of affection. “But, and I need you to remember this,” he continued, his eyes returned to yours, “next time you disobey me, it will be worse.”

Worse? You couldn’t imagine worse. The idea of worse made your eyes sting, panic threatening to crawl back out of the abyss of your exhaustion to send you into a fit of tears.

You blinked and swallowed against your dry throat. “I’ll be… be good, I promise,” you said in a voice that was little more than a hoarse croak.

“Shhh,” Suguru shushed softly, brushing your damp hair off of your sweaty forehead. “Don’t be scared. Everything I do, I do because I love you. You are precious to me, you know that, don’t you?”

Those words worked like ether sweet anesthesia through your head and you believed him, loved him, trusted him. He did this because he loved you, and because you needed to learn. Of course. That made sense even if nothing else did.

#geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru x reader #jjk geto x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #my writing #tw.dubcon

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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another idea for dr crane but i'm afraid it might be too similar to thoughtless so please just ignore if it is!!: from personal experience, being a patient of his who is seeing him bc of sexual trauma. fear of penetration due to previous sexual assault. and ofc he's all about exposure therapy. and you wanna trust him so so bad bc he wants what's best for you, he's encouraging you ("you deserve to embrace your sexuality, you get past this one barrier and you're free"), but you start to fight back. and he takes personal offense bc he's your doctor, why don't you trust his expertise? but then it starts to feel good~

idk i picture reader trying with a toy in front of him but he gets impatient sees she's struggling with going that extra step further so he takes control either with the toy or himself.

warnings: not actually that dark (I mean, it is cause he's her therapist lol but he's not nonconning her) but still manipulation, slightly medical kink?, praise kink

(oops this turned out pretty long how did that happen? lmao)

"Did you try what we discussed last week?" he asked, and you pressed your knees together as you looked down and shook your head. "Really? You seemed very positive about it before."

"I was," you admitted. "It seemed really easy-- just sort of training myself, you know. But then I got home and... I guess it was a little overwhelming."

"Hm," he said, and you started to feel guilty for disappointing him. "That's interesting-- it seems like you were more comfortable here than at home. I figured it would be the other way around."

"Yeah, that would make more sense, I guess," you shrugged, "but-- I dunno..."

"Do you want to try again?" he wondered.

"I do," you admitted, "but I'm nervous that I'll start panicking again..."

"Then why don't you try here?"

You tensed up at just the suggestion; "Wouldn't that be... I mean, isn't that...?"

"I'm a medical doctor," he reminded you with a chuckle, "I've seen much worse. This is simply part of your treatment. I want you to get better."

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay," you decided. "Okay, I can try it."

"Great," he smiled, uncrossing his legs and resetting his clipboard in his lap. "We agreed before that you'd be more comfortable with your fingers than silicone dilators, is that still--?"

"Yes," you interrupted, "definitely. Feels too... clinical, otherwise."

He nodded, and there was a brief silence.

"So, do I just... start?"

"I'd like you to try," he said gently.

You noticed that his gaze never broke away from you, but you looked down into your lap as you started to slowly spread your legs. "So I just.. reach under my dress?"

"That should be fine," he encouraged. "There's nothing to be afraid of-- this is a safe space."

You nodded in agreement, pulling up your dress enough to reach into your panties. Sighing, you tried not to let nerves get the better of you as you pushed your lips apart with your fingers. But still, the anxiety was bubbling up, and you pressed the tip of your finger to your hole only to feel resistance alongside your distress. "I-- I don't think I can--"

"It's alright," he soothed, "start with the outside first-- stimulate your clitoris."

You choked on a laugh, still too nervous to look at him. "You really are a medical doctor..."

"What, too formal?" he chuckled. "Alright... rub your clit."

That shocked you even more than the clinical language; but it made you pulse inside, too. "O-okay..."

You pressed your fingers against the bud, trying to rub it, but it didn't really feel like anything-- like rubbing your elbow or something. Jonathan corrected you right away: "Not so hard," he said, "start gently."

"Sorry," you breathed, shutting your eyes.

"No-- it's fine," he assured, "I just want to help."

He was right, though; when you lessened the pressure and gently rubbed in circles, it started to feel good-- slowly, but surely. When your next breath came out shaky, you heard him hum with satisfaction.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"Yes," you answered, but you didn't mean for it to be a moan.

"I think you're ready," he informed you-- and something about his voice, it was lower than before, it was different... it was making you wet.

"Ready... for what?" you whispered, daring to open your eyes and see the darkness in his expression as he watched you.

"Ready to fuck yourself with your fingers."

"Oh," you sighed, feeling like you'd been punched in the gut-- in the best possible way. "Okay..."

"Just one to start," he encouraged, "put a finger inside yourself, nice and slow."

You sighed as you pressed the finger up to your hole again, smiling as you realized it was more open-- and wet-- than before. You gently pressed in further, finding some pressure but pushing through it until you were knuckle deep in yourself. You smiled happily; "I did it," you breathed, "oh my god, I-- I never thought I'd--"

"Don't stop," he cooed, "move it back and forth. If you do well enough, you can add a second finger."

You figured he meant it that you would be able to add a second finger, but it almost sounded like a bargain, like a reward. Do what I say and I'll let you add a second, or something. Surely that wasn't what he meant.

"A little faster," he encouraged as you pumped the finger. "That's it, very good."

You whimpered, biting down on your lip to hide your moan. You wanted him to say that again, to tell you that you were doing this correctly.

"Add the second now," he instructed, his own voice suddenly sounding a little hoarse and needy. "Stretch yourself out-- and tell me how it feels."

"It feels good," you panted as you started to add your second finger, whining at the stretch. "Fuck, I-- will they both fit?"

He chuckled a little-- a low, rough sound-- and promised you: "Yes, they'll fit. You can take a lot more than two fingers, with some patience."

You hadn't even imagined being able to do more than this-- for years, you hadn't been able to put anything inside you, and now here you were... fingering yourself in front of your therapist. "How much more?" you wondered, hardly imagining how it could be possible.

There was a long, long pause; you worried he hadn't heard you. Looking at him again, you found him watching with a tight jaw.

"How much more can I take, Dr. Crane?" you asked again.

"You can take anything I give you," he answered tensely.

A shiver ran up your spine; "F-fuck," you whimpered, and your walls pulsed around your fingers.

"You're going to come, aren't you?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Good."

You gasped.

"Very good," he egged you on, seeing the effect it had on you; your head tilted back as you pushed your fingers into yourself faster. "You're doing very well for me-- now I just need to see you come. I just need you to make yourself come."

"Yes, yes," you chanted, hips rocking, moans growing louder. "It feels good-- fuck, Doctor, I--"

"I know," he soothed, "just let it happen. Keep going. Come for me."

It hit you all at once, a heavy and numbing feeling that left you shaking on his couch; he purred out his praises, telling you how good you were doing, and it only made the feeling stronger.

When you exhausted yourself, you stilled; there was a moment of silence, just your panting filling the air, until you found the strength to meet his gaze again. He was smiling at you sweetly, looking oddly similar to how he always did at the end of a session. "That was incredible progress," he said proudly. "You should be very impressed with yourself."

You sighed as you nervously pulled your fingers out of yourself. "I-- do you have a tissue I can wipe these with?" you asked nervously.

"No need," he said, "you should taste it."

"Wh-what?" you choked out, your face even warmer than before.

"Just taste it-- I think you'll like it," he encouraged.

Though you hesitated for a second, you brought your wet fingers to your lips and gently licked off some of the sticky substance left behind.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's sort of strange," you admitted.

"It's an acquired taste," he shrugged, making your heart pound as you realized just from the look in his eyes that this was absolutely a taste he'd acquired... then again, there must have been a reason that he knew even better than you how to touch yourself and make you come.

Then, it was impossible not to imagine what he's like when he does this off the clock-- the way he touches and pleasures the women he takes to bed. You imagined him with his fingers inside lace panties, whispering in her ear about how good she was being for him; you imagined him pushing two inside and promising to give her more; you imagined him making her come, over and over, until he's satisfied and brings those soaked fingers to his lips and calling her delicious.

And even though you tried not to picture who that woman would be, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd like a woman like you... if you were the type he'd do that to, if you weren't his patient.

"Thank you," you blurted out. "I never thought I'd be able to... thank you. It's been a long time since I was able to feel that."

He nodded. "Thank you for trusting me," he replied. Glancing at the clock, he sighed a little through a polite smile: "Oh, look at that, we're out of time for today. This has been a really excellent session."

"Yeah," you agreed as you both stood up, "definitely."

"And next week, we can discuss the next steps in your recovery."

You raised your eyebrows when you heard that, already almost halfway out of the office. "Next steps?" you noticed.

"Yes," he agreed, "you made great progress, but there's still so much more for you to learn."

#jonathan crane fic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #scarecrow x reader

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hollyhomburg · 8 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don��t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

~-~

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

398 notes · View notes

bigassmoonchild · 1 year

Text

Ghost

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Simons body was back, but he wasn't really Simon. No, it was Ghost inhabiting the shell of Simons body, but even Ghost seemed to recognize you. Either way, there were days left of him being able to come back, and you didn't want to grieve your mate twice.

Content Tags: Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Made Up Medical Shit ab Omegaverse, Not Quite Simon, Ghost and Simon are different people, Mentions of Violence, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: I'm spoiling y'all again with more uploads <3. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Fun fact, these take me about two hours to write, but they're not beta-read or edited. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are open!!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

"What are some probable ways we bring people out of ferality?" You asked the squad standing around you. They were a few days out from graduating and at this point you were just filling time. None of them said anything, lookin around at each other. You sighed deeply.

Trip raised her hand and you stared at her. "Scents?" You blinked slowly, waiting for her to elaborate. "If we can get him a fresh scent of some packmate or a person he's especially close to then it can get him a focus point," she explained. You hummed.

Turning to look at the whiteboard you'd started with different plans to get Simon back, there were a few options you had. "The only problem with that, Trip, is that it could cause death," you whispered. The whiteboard had streaks where you'd erased and rewritten things.

Scent. Medications. Time. Death.

You sighed deeply, still thinking over anything else you could do. If you forced suppressants into his body, it would decrease the hormones in his body but the question was focusing on how to get them in him.

There weren't aerosol sedatives, he had ripped off the bindings that they had used to get him in the cell in the first place. 'What's wrong with him?' Price had asked. All you could do was shake your head, not legally able to explain anything. Fuck HIPAA.

Doctors, civilian doctors, had come in and started to try and take over. Even the doctors above you were fighting, because he wasn't a civilian. All they wanted was to use him and figure out how to bring a person out of ferality. Especially an Alpha.

"There are several ways we can fight ferality, but none of which have proven to do them well," you explained, looking around at everyone. There was nothing you could feasibly do, you knew. Similar to rabies, it wasn't something that anyone really came back from.

You sighed deeply. "Attempts have been made, but none of them came through. With too much time in ferality, a persons brain begins to shut down. We don't entirely know why, it hasn't been able to be studied, but there is very little we can do," you had to look away. "Either way, you work your hardest to ensure comfort," you had decided to add that at the end.

All you knew was that you needed to make sure he was comfortable. You knew your mate, you knew he deserved that at the very least. A knock on the conference door brought everyones attention as one of the civvy doctors walked in.

"You'll need to go in there," he told you. Shaking your head in confusion, you looked at him. "If he can recognize your scent, you'll be able to get sedatives in him. You'll be able to help us make him the first survivor," he whispered. Excusing yourself, the two of you moved quickly through the halls to make it to his cell area.

Standing in front of it, watching him stare at everyone through the balaclava, you felt your heart breaking. This wasn't Simon. It was Ghost. Blinking slowly, you listened to the hustle and bustle around you. It was like looking at him for the first time again. A man you didn't know, but was intrinsically connected to you.

With a deep sigh, you looked around at the doctors around you. "I may be his mate, but he won't recognize my scent," you whispered. "I'm pregnant, and we all know that changes someone scent," a few murmurs came from some of the doctors.

Looking away, you glanced at Ghost once more.

"I'll do it," you added.

They had you change into clothes he interacted with you the most in. So you wore your sleep clothes, just something you'd been wearing the night before. With the sedative slipped up your sleeve, the door outside the cell was unlocked.

"You know what to do," they told you. The plan wasn't all that concrete, just get in there and stab him. Very good plan, one of the best you'd ever seen. God, you wished Price had been allowed to format the whole thing. He might have a backup in case things went south.

Stepping through the now unlocked cell door, you took a quick glance back at the doors blocking your escape. Looking through the cell, Ghosts eyes were on you. Unblinking, the eyes you knew were gone. Blacked out, his pupil dilated so wide.

You didn't make eye contact with him other than the quick glance, keeping your head bowed down to try and remain as small as possible. If you weren't seen as a danger, he might not attack you. Might.

Movement brought your eyes up, seeing him standing to his full height and move to you. Slow but still graceful. You could see his face twitching, watched his chest heave with each breath he took. He was scenting you and you allowed it.

Closer, he grew closer and leaned his head close, you could hear the heaving pants as he drew your scent into him. Ghosts head dropped against your neck, pushing your head to force you to bare it to him. You could feel his nose nudging against you, feel his hands grasp at your arms and tug you closer.

You could almost feel tears filling your eyes, thinking back to the past two or so months filled with grief and eventual relief. A huffing grunt came from Ghost, almost displeasure at your scent changing. He tugged you with him, dragging you over to where he'd been sitting for the last few days.

Pushing you to sit, he stood over you. Your eyes opened, looking up at him and feeling the tears finally fall. A groaning whine came from him, his wide eyes glancing around to find something to cheer you up. You knew his thought process, you'd seen ferality in people before.

Only once had you seen it in him.

Ghost dropped next to you, tugging you into his lap and holding you close. He began huffing at your neck, pressing his scent out around you to try and soothe you. It seemed your scent was almost soothing him as well, allowing him a reprieve of the stress and fear over the last however long he'd been away.

God, how much you had missed this. The two of you didn't talk much, but you soaked this in as much as you could. His scent swirling around you, the feeling of his hands and arms wrapped tightly around you. You could feel yourself relaxing, felt the press of his head against yours.

Deep breaths brought his scent into you, albeit not being strong from where you were pressed into his chest. You could hear his heart thumping strongly against his chest, a true showing of his survival.

Pushing your hands to the back of his neck and shifting, just a little, you felt your throat choking around sobs. "'m so sorry," you whispered to him and he made another grunting whine at you.

You pressed the syringe in his neck and he jerked, but you were able to push the plunger all the way down. He whined against you, grabbing you tighter. Over the next few minutes, his grip slowly waned.

His body relaxed fully under you and you could feel the tears sliding down your cheeks begin to pick up. Stuffing your head into his neck, you inhaled deeply. Leather, tobacco and little hints of his own musk. God, you missed it, but the civilian doctors were flooding the room. Pulling you away and injecting him with different suppressants.

They dragged him away, forcing him out of your line of sight. You felt similar to how you'd initially felt when receiving his tags. Numb, like you were watching everything happening over a television.

Alpha is back.

You found Price waiting for you, just outside the medical center the doctors had dragged Ghost to. "How are you, Doc?" You fought the tears, feeling little hiccups coming from your chest.

"I don't know," you looked up at him. "I never thought I'd be able to see him again, but it's not him," you whispered. "That's not my Simon, that's Ghost,"

You knew when Ghost woke up, hearing the snarling roars coming from his chest. The suppressants hadn't worked, but he was still set to be pumped full of more in the next few days. The doctors found you sitting at the front desk, rubbing your face.

"Come with us," they said and dragged you to Ghosts room, where his snarls and roars quieted down to growls. As you sat beside him, placing your hands on whatever you could reach his growls quieted into little huffs and grunts.

You pressed yourself as close as they would allow you to him. "I missed you so much," you whispered and his head whipped around to look at you. His pupils were still so dilated, but you could make out his eye color just barely.

His eyes were always so pretty. You sighed and dropped your head to look down at the ground.

"It's been so long," you choked out. "So, so long," he looked at you, nearly blankly. God, you hoped that somewhere in that stupid head of his he could hear you. "Been almost two months, you wanna know something?" You asked, lifting your head to give him a weak smile.

All Ghost did was blink at you, slowly. Almost like he was listening, you noticed. His heartrate was dropping closer to normal rates, blood pressure dropping little by little as the minutes wore on.

"I'm pregnant," you gave a wet laugh. "I found out not too long after you left for your mission, and y'know what?" He didn't respond, but you could see the dilation of his eyes shifting just barely.

Looking away and swallowing thickly, all you could do was give little sobs.

"God, I missed you so much," you sobbed out. "When they gave me your dog tags that one morning, I didn't know what to think. I was so numb for so long but Price knocked sense into me," you choked another wet laugh. "Just like how he would do with you," you whispered.

"Pups," he whispered, staring at you. Your mouth gaped open, staring at him. His voice was rough, gravelly. It sounded like he either hadn't talked in months or had been screaming his voice out. "Pups," he whispered again, hand moving before getting caught by the handcuffs.

"Oh my god," you whispered. You lunged to get closer to him and heard scrambling at the door. People surrounded you and tugged you away, dragging you out of the door but you could hear it. His heartrate increased severely, and you could assume his blood pressure was skyrocketing again. "Stop!" You shouted, writhing against the people dragging you away.

There was a large snarl from Ghost, you could just see over everyone his writhing form as needles were stabbed into him. The door closed just as his head shot up and you could catch one last look of the fear filling his eyes. Hands tugged you away, pulling you from the area.

"No!" You still were screaming, not even realizing what you were doing. "Please, I need to be there!" You fought against the hands that pulled you further and further from the room.

"You can't," it was Price. "You can't be there, they need to be able to work on him without people in the way," he whispered to you.

"I was getting through to him, Price," he shook his head. "He spoke to me," you whispered, tugging him closer to you. "All he said was 'pups' before they dragged me out," Price looked away.

He sighed deeply. "We know," he said. "We were listening in, but you need to understand something," he made you look at him. "That isn't your mate anymore," he whispered. "He's been feral for too long,"

"No," you shook your head. "No, it's going to be okay," you whispered. "They still have a few days," you looked away. "They can't give up on him,"

Price looked away. "They're giving one more push of suppressants," he told you. "Giving them a few days, they're going to use you to help bring him out but if this doesn't work they'll need to keep him comfortable until the end," you couldn't look at him.

You weren't going to look at any of these people, how dare they give up on him so quickly? For minutes on end, you sat near Price, just waiting. For what, you didn't know, but Price wasn't allowing you to leave.

Minutes dragged into hours. Just like the hours that stole your last moments with Simon before he came back as Ghost. Minutes that you could've been in there with Ghost, comforting him as they did things to him.

He wouldn't know what was happening, his mind was too preoccupied with survival. You couldn't stop hearing his one word replaying in your mind, the recognition you now could see in his eyes. The door opened but you didn't look up, doctors came out slowly but surely.

Feet stopped in front of you, where you'd been staring at the ground. "Ma'am?" The voice whispered above you and you finally looked up. "You can go back in, now," he whispered. You knew that in the few lucid minutes a feral person had were the few minutes when more medicine should be pumped into them.

You had never expected the fear that would fill the lovers when this type of thing happened. When you were still training, you had never expected fear to be combined into others. You had no words for what you felt as you walked back in the room and saw Ghost snarl at you, his eyes no longer filled with recognition.

Sitting where you had been, you gazed over the Alpha. Blinking slowly, you moved your hands to where they had once been sitting, not so many hours ago.

"I miss you," you whispered to the Alpha. "God, I missed you so much," you could see his chest heaving with breaths, nearly see his mouth dropping open under the balaclava to allow more of your scent in. You sighed deeply.

Looking around you, the room was so bare. Something you would only use to describe hospital rooms. It hurt, knowing your Alpha was stuck here. Somewhere you weren't allowed to help.

"The rest of the pack have been helping me out, y'know," you smiled softly. Make this as normal as possible, you told yourself. "Soap's been joining me at my appointments," you looked down at Ghost. "Gaz has been making sure I take care of myself, and Price is doing his best to help during the night," you choked out a laugh.

You hear a soft little hum come from Ghost. His eyes were filling with recognition, little by little. Leaning towards him, you tried to catch his eye. They were dilating, his heartrate slowed.

He hummed again and you looked away. "I need you to come back, Simon," you whispered to him. You looked up at him, gazing over what you could see. His eyes, moving quickly around the room and grazing over you before moving away.

A deep sigh came from you and you sat there with him, watching the clock slowly tick as time carried on. Neither of you said anything and you watched as his eyes slowly drifted shut. You could feel the exhaustion slowly settling into your body, from the different emotions you'd been sent through over the last few days.

Standing up quietly, you let yourself out of the room. With one more look back, you watched the Alpha breathe slowly in his sleep. Closing the door behind you, you found Price.

Gesturing for him to follow you, the two of you slowly made your way to your office. When you unlocked the door, you sat yourself down in your chair and watched as Price closed the door behind him. He sat in front of you, lighting a cigar.

Quiet. For a few minutes, it was just quiet outside of the drag of his cigar and the soft breathing between the two of you. "He's home, Doc," he whispered. "Simons home,"

"It's not Simon," you looked at him. "That's Ghost. My Simon is not sitting in that bed, it may be his body but it's not him," you responded sharply. He looked away from you, sucking at his teeth. You blinked rapidly, trying to get the sleep out of them.

You sighed deeply, rubbing your hands over your face as you looked around the office. The one place where you and Simon had grown so close, the one place where the two of you had found peace.

"I've spent the last however many months grieving," you said. "I've grieved the life of my mate, and now he's back but it isn't him. That isn't my mate," you whispered, giving a short pause. "I can't grieve him again, Price, it'll destroy me," he reached over and rested his hand against yours.

He gave a little smile. "You won't have to grieve him again," he said. "The way he's progressing is making the doctors very happy," you gave a short laugh. "He could be the first case of survival through ferality, and you were the key to it," he told you.

For another few moments there was silence. Neither of you spoke, but you could see the pity in his eyes. Closing your eyes, you just breathed, still faintly able to smell Ghost albeit the scent becoming stale.

"I just need my Alpha," you whispered. "I need him back. I don't care if it means I fight an entire group of Doctors, they can't just kill him, Price," you opened your eyes and looked at him. "They can't just kill him," he didn't meet your eye.

"It's getting late," Price told you. "I think you need to go back to your room and sleep. Now," you didn't look at him, allowing him to guide you to your room. When you entered, he gave you a grim little smile before closing the door behind you.

Now that you were alone, you had no idea what to do. Your Alpha was just a few minutes walk away from you, but you wouldn't be able to enter that room again. They'd close down the medical center from visitors, even with your access as a doctor they wouldn't allow you to enter the room.

Crawling into your cold nest, you laid there. Shirt pressed to your face from where you could still faintly smell Ghost when he'd held you. Closing your eyes, you could almost feel his arms wrapping around you. You could almost smell him right there, right next to you.

And that's how you felt asleep, dreaming of your Alpha wrapping himself around you and making sure you knew everything would be okay. Even you didn't believe it.

Taglist: (i did not realize that the tags didn’t work woospies)

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @404lunar @josieguts @actorryswife @the-queen-of-england183 @littlelovebug98 @cringeycookies @averytiredfanfictionwriter @kariiiel @caramlizedtomatoes

#angst #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #hurt/no comfort #cod mw2 #task force 141 #modern warfare ii #call of duty x reader #no use of y/n #call of duty #simon riley #ghost mw2 #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #medical inaccuracies #made up medical facts about the omegaverse #maple syrup

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bring-cringe-back · 4 months

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Okay I might just be reading too much into this. But while I was watching the episode *cough cough* procrastinating *cough cough I realised that they don't show how the Doctor and Ruby got there.

And I know that it's probably just meant to be vaguely like 'they just went for fun'.

BUT this is the third episode in a row where we haven't seen them arrive. And for 73 yards it was clearly a doctor who episode when it started but it immediately gets rid of the doctor. ( I know that for 73 yards and for dot and bubble it was because Ncuti Gatwa was filming other stuff but let me cook) In Dot and Bubble you could effectively be forgiven for assuming that it was a random Black Mirror episode or something similar until the Doctor turns up, and tbh if you were just flicking through channels and haven't been watching Doctor Who you could probably basically not know for much longer. In Rogue they are just there, except for the title screen (the same for dot and bubble) you could basically watch it as a Bridgerton episode until the Chuldur turn up.

(And there's whole other rant about how the Chuldur fits into the theory about this basically being a TV show within a TV show, I don't know the name for this theory)

But anyway these episodes are increasingly separated from the Doctor and Ruby as plot points particularly in the beginning of episodes. They are more and more like an excuse to tell the story or explore the topic that the writers want to explore. Which isn't totally different from the occasional episode of previous series, but this is a lot more in my memory at least from previous series. So it feels a lot like they are skimming over the more sci-fi doctor who elements. Which fits in in my mind to the idea that the 'One who waits' is a representation of story telling. I've seen theories that it's Ruby but she doesn't know it which makes sense, I think it would also make sense for it to be her parent(s) who left her, or alternatively just it's own thing all together. But it feels very like that bit where Amy is living a life and starts to realise it's all fake.

The narrowing down of these episodes into not showing them arriving, and at least in Rogue - I can't remember in the others - not showing them leaving the story, feels very different.

It feels more and more like story telling. They have covered fairy tales, Period pieces/Romance, Dystopia, War/SciFi, Musicals, Political Drama. They are also showing the doctor playing his role, something that we see companions doing often enough but we seldom see the doctor doing it.

In Space Babies he is scared of a new creature. In the Devil's Code he sings a song that makes little sense in the story, he doesn't question the road making noise. In Boom he's more himself but it's also the closes to his 'normal' environment. In 73 Yards they just fully remove him from the story, which I realise was done for filming requirements but would have been so interesting to see the doctor in a Political drama. In Dot and Bubble he plays the role of the outsider bringing information to those living under a Dystopia, how is he UNABLE to access the inside, sure he plays a role that's fairly similar to himself but Doctor Who is really Dystopian.

In Rogue he is becoming more and more his role, he is playing the role of a sort of Elizabeth Bennet style character, a strong romantic interest for the brooding man. Which is great, he makes fun of the genre, but he is hyper aware of the genre and still ends up in its pitfalls. He trusts a man so quickly he ends up handing over his sonic, he gets proposed to and basically immediately accepts. Now I am really hoping that Rogue gets to stay around I really liked him as a character, regardless of which theory of his identity if any are true. But the Doctors reaction to him is still a little out of character, he is feeling what he is SUPPOSED to feel and he is acting how he is SUPPOSED to act.

It just feels to me like an increasing number of these episodes are more and more story like and more and more separated from the more Doctor Who elements. And the lack of an introduction of how they get there, and the lack of them leaving in the TARDIS is so unusual to me and stands out to my brain so much.

It feels like they are removing elements that don't fit the genre. Anyway not sure if that makes any sense but I'm vibing with it.

#15th Doctor #Rogue #Doctor Who #I am meant to be studying - Like i have a paper and exam due tomorrow #this is not a good use of my time but I also need to yap #I have been cooking way too hard on the stuff that just doesn't need to be done #Anyway please tell me which bits are making me sound like an idiot coz I don't think I've had a coherent thought since exams started #I did not realise how long this post was getting #Doctor Who Rogue #Rogue is hot too #I might be going insane but #Theres heaps of yap in this I'm so sorry I let it get away from me #Doctor Who theory #dw meta #73 yards #doctor who series 14 #susan twist #space babies #And this doesn't even get me started on Susan Twist who was like #a. partially hiredfor her amazing last name #and b. the song being 'there's always a twist at the end' and then her name always being in the credits #oooo so good

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faeriekit · 6 months

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Health and Hybrids (XX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... A LOT of readers google what an "ostomy bag" is! Danny reestablishes his comfort with the Arabic numeral system!

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

The next time Diana comes to visit her charge, her gloves are blue. Her scrubs are a pale pink. She is given a new face mask, and a new hair net, and walks through the double doors without needing to be buzzed in.

Alright. Perhaps the boy is not genuinely “her charge”. Still, he is hers to protect and to keep; although her position is, officially, as security to the medical team working with their young patient, the medical team knows as well as she does that the boy does not genuinely intend harm.

Is he prone to outbursts? Perhaps, but very few of them are powered. It is entirely understandable too, according to the mental health professionals on board the Watchtower: trauma affects how well one comports oneself and how one interprets their environment. They may see things, hear things, or misunderstand things, and believe they are under threat. The circumstance makes for a great deal of residual fear and mistrust.

Diana was once raised amongst communities of women with few untouched by battle fatigue. She recognizes the signs of lost time and of reawoken fear. She understands what battle-weary warriors are truly fighting against.

A doctor and a nurse mumble a greeting as Diana passes by them. “Morning, Wonder Woman.”

“Good evening,” Diana returns, eyes crinkling. One nurse visibly glances out the window—and then smiles, sheepishly, having forgotten their location in space. Time zones on the Watchtower are often…flexible; Diana, however, has only just returned from her day job. “How is the patient?”

A doctor jerks their head towards the monitor. It is only ever left on if no one else is in the room; privacy is key to recovery. The active monitor means that the medical team has left him alone for now. “Take a look. You might have to go kid wrangling again, Ma’am.”

Alright. Diana obliges them.

On the monitor, in little stick-figure form, are three figures, all sitting or crowded around the room’s singular bed. Her patient sits in his little white gown, legs still as ever, as Impulse drapes himself across the bedspread, and Robin (ex-Robin? Third Robin? Doesn’t he have a new name now?) stands at the bedside.

The Speedster wiggles, mouthing out words she can’t hear without a microphone. Robin is focused on something in his hand—a tablet, perhaps? If Impulse is chattering into the air, then Robin is short on answers; her charge, in comparison, looks back and forth between them, likely unable to understand what the two are up to.

Diana’s mask catches her sigh. “Busy, are they?”

“Do you think you can hold the red one down long enough for a refresher on proper PPE usage?” the doctor begs. The question appears to be genuine. “They just zoomed in a little bit ago. We’ve been trying not to disturb them, but without masks and gloves…”

…Her charge was still at risk for possible contamination or infection, as they couldn’t get consistently accurate test results on his immune system. Diana hummed. She could see the problem.

“I shall. Buzz me in, if you will.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The door clicks open. Diana strides through, unafraid of teenagers or similar ilk, and content with her position as designated scolder.

And, to his credit, the Robin at her charge’s bedside recognizes Diana’s lack of enthusiasm with the situation, and winces with artful precision. Silly boy— as if Diana would believe that any Bat would be ashamed of breaking a rule if they had already chosen to break it. She cannot help but be fond of each Bird’s eccentricities in their own ways. Robin hides the contraband food in his hand behind his back.

Impulse, however, hardly notices her approach, draped over her charge’s casts as he is—a whiteboard in his hand, furiously scribbling away at whatever attempt at communication he has decided to test today. Having met several male teenagers in her recent years, there is a decent chance he has been drawing genitalia as well.

Diana politely coughs into her mask. The gesture is entirely performative. Robin responds by hiding a separate can of energy drink—opened—on the side table behind him, in the hopes of hiding it from view.

Impulse, who failed to notice her arrival, continues to scribble. Occasionally there will be a burst of superspeed, but it will be in contained little bursts. He likely either wants to preserve the marker, or he is taking more care with his attempted art than usual.

Her charge looks up.

His eyes are still a concern—glazed with a green film, they jitter back and forth ever so slightly when he tries to focus on any one object in particular. He hasn’t indicated any discomfort with his eyesight, however, so it hasn’t been addressed beyond documentation.

The crack in his face—from two inches above his white, nebulous hairline and trailing down to his chin—is visible evidence of an injury or gouge of some sort, with new pink skin all around the edges as the only visible sign of inhuman levels of healing. Diana has seen a number of scars, and a number of healed, gaping wounds, but it is occasionally unsettling to set eyes on her charge and see the still-healing brain matter, skull, and inner sinus cavity through a viscous, green, not-quite-organic wound filling material.

There seems to be a consistent rate of healing, though. Diana can only hope that recovery is possible.

“Good afternoon,” Diana greets softly. Her charge’s discolored fingers flex as his face turns to look at her. “Are you well?”

His green-tinged lips part and then come together again. He’s not not paying attention—he listens very well, and has begun to use certain words in English to compensate for his need for communication. That being said, Diana has little idea what he is and is not capable of understanding.

Impulse, however, finally recognizes the newest occupant in the room. “Wonder Woman! Uh—we totally had permission to be here this time! Promise!!” he offers, immediately switching from someone gleeful to see her from someone remembering their misdeeds.

Diana is very lucky that her mask covers her fond smile. If it is her job to be stern today, she ought to live up to the task. “Did you, now?”

Impulse beams sheepishly, and rolls off of the casts of a bemused half-alien boy. “Yes! Remember last time when the nurses all said I could ‘come whenever’ and ‘bring a friend’ and—“

“You were asked to buzz in ahead of time and put on your protective gear?” Diana finishes, wry. Before she is able to scruff him appropriately, however, the superpowered boy is already gone and back—now with an askew hairnet, an upside-down surgical mask, and gloves a size too large for his hands.

“So I did that!” Impulse protests, the mask moving unnaturally over his face. “Look! All dressed up!”

It is a well-intended last minute effort. Alas, it would all be for naught. Diana scoops up a squawking speedster by the nape, and a now-blinded-by-a-misplaced-surgical-mask Robin, and trots them both back to larger medical.

“One moment!” Diana tosses back to her charge, who is, understandably, concerned.

Still. It takes Wonder Woman, two nurses, and a paraprofessional to successfully sanitize and gear up an uncooperative speedster. Robin sulks through the entire process, but capitulates to it with more grace.

Her charge’s green eyes shine and his fingers curl around his few personal possessions as Diana returns to him his companions; she wishes, so dearly, that she could ruffle his pale hair. “All done!”

The teenaged heroes sprawl across his bed just as casually as they had before—if better prepared for their environment. Robin largely gives her charge his space, careful not to impede where he isn’t wanted, but Impulse freely shares affection that her charge, at least, does not visibly deny.

Diana has her own routine to complete. She heads for the intravenous injection bags, pulls out a fresh one, and cracks the seal. After that, it’s shaking to mix the concoction and a fresh replacement.

Impulse grabs one of the toys off of her charge’s side table and brings it into his lap. The board is tilted, and all the slotted-in pieces fall out. He spends some time sorting them by shape, and then by color, until her charge lifts trembling fingers to pick them up, very carefully, one by one.

She’s impressed. His pincer grasp recovery has not been consistently smooth sailing. “Excellent work,” she praises.

Robin looks up from his tablet. Impulse looks back at her and beams. Her charge gives her a brief look, observes that she doesn’t need anything from him at the moment, and gets back to sorting the little pieces back into their allotted slot.

Impulse rests his chin on the steel arm bar of her charge’s cot. The pose seems…uncomfortable. “Hey, Tim. He got them all right.”

Timothy Robin taps away at his tablet—no doubt taking down documentation of his own. Diana can’t help but feel affection; every Bat and every Bird is so nosy, but if she wants to actually see those notes on her charge, she will have to press Batman for them with a reasonably-sized threat.

“Really?” Robin asks, eyes on the screen. “Do you think the pieces were matched based on color, or actual understanding of the numerical system?”

Diana looks down, line in her hand as she reconnects the intravenous bag. The toy in her charge’s lap is a mock clock face. Each of the numbers is printed onto the removable piece, in different cut-out shapes, and painted different colors.

The atmosphere changes. The air itself tastes different—something like electricity sparks on her tongue. And then it’s gone.

“No, he’s looking to put the clock face back in order, specifically,” Impulse confirms. Ah. Speedforce. Diana should have been able to recognize the feeling by now. “He’s kind of annoyed, actually. It’s like a baby toy.”

“Well, it is a baby toy.” Robin taps away.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s annoying. He knows he should be able to do it.”

Impulse buzzes again, and her charge hums, stuffing his flat hand between the board and the sheet until he can tip it over without grabbing at it. He repeats the same process, the only difficulty stemming from his shaking grip and his shaking eyes.

The urge to pull him close and pet his hair is understandable, Diana reminds herself, but not conducive to his long-term comfort. She smiles at him, as best as she can behind a surgical mask, and discreetly checks his drainage bags to see if they need replacing while she’s already close.

“All’s well,” she declares at last, finished with anything that isn’t social. Thankfully, having two teenagers in the room takes care of her charge’s most frequent issue—boredom. She claps her hands together, and her charge looks up at her, eyes vibrating. “Do you require anything?”

Her charge looks at her. Her charge looks at his friend. “Ouatair?” he tries to enunciate, tongue thick against the green-filled split in his hard palate. “Pleese?”

“Ithinkhewantssomewater,” Impulse rushes to translate, but Diana already knows this request. The water provided is chilled in a refrigerator, and it takes no time for her to find sanitized cup and straw—steel, so as to be safe when dropped, and relatively uncrushable, with a handle for simple gripping.

She presents it to him grip-first. His expression is grateful, and frustrated. No warrior wishes to be in the position of needing constant. Diana can understand the wish to do things on his own.

“Soon,” Diana offers, voice a whisper. “You’re already better off than before.”

Her charge grumbles into his cup. His tongue, half-green, finds the straw for him; he chomps down on the straw, slurps as loudly as he can, and sulks.

Teenagers. Diana finds herself unable to understand how Bruce has so many of them, and understands perfectly well how easy it is to take on a child in need and make them your own.

The cup goes back onto the side-table, half-empty.

“Hey,” Robin starts again. He puts his tablet to the side. The white board is pulled out of Impulse's hands and goes onto her charge's lap, and with only a little whining. “How’s this?”

Her charge mumbles something neutral. His eyebrows scrunch together, but he takes the offered blue marker from Impulse and lets the boy uncap it for him.

“Yeah, it’s more adult or whatever,” Impulse encourages. Her charge sticks out a green-mottled tongue, but takes the marker to the white board and writes. Robin peers over his shoulder to watch. “It’s just the alphabet. A, B, C, D~!”

Her charge hums the tune back to him, continuing seamlessly where Impulse left off. The teen hero beams.

Diana stills.

“Yeah, you got it!” Impulse encourages, and peeks over the edge of the board to see her charge hard at work. His letters are wobbly, certainly, and there are some that he misses, but the alphabet song is a longstanding English-language tradition. He know it. He knows it by rote.

“You missed the ampersand,” Impulse points out. Her charge scowls through the fissure in his face.

…There is no reason for Diana to get excited. Yet. Robin-the-former is already jotting down his own notes, pleased with his observations. There are many reasons and many ways this teenager might have picked up the song. J’onn famously picked up on Earth’s radiowaves before being transported to Earth; this could be further evidence that her charge has some connection to Earth, or it could be a connection to something more bizarre and unusual.

There is no shortage of unusual events these days.

And, of course, Diana runs out of things to do. She smooths down her charge’s blanket, which he hardly notices in his frustration. She refills his water. She is tempted to go grab her copy of The Art of War from her bag in the other room, which she has read before, but which she is rereading at behest of Bruce’s newest initiative: Tactical Book Club. She is optimistic about the opportunities for further education this will provide her comrades-in-arms, if not underwhelmed by the reading material. As long as the teenage heroes are in the room, Diana is obligated to remain with them, in the event that the danger level might…fluctuate. A book would give at least the semblance of privacy to the three.

Her charge makes a noise. “Hay!”

Diana looks up. In shaky hands, resting on his lap, he holds up a largely complete alphabet. There are one or two shaky letters—thorn, which is fairly common, and eth, perhaps less so—but otherwise carefully drawn, very neatly done.

“Excellently done,” Diana praises. The alphabet is a triumph of the physical work it takes to heal.

Her charge beams through his craggy face, buzzing with delight.

"I dunno," Impulse teases, upside down on her charge's legs. "They're kinda wonky."

The boy's face scrunches, smears the color away with a swipe of his arm, and draws something else.

The board shakes with his exertion as he lifts it back into place on his lap, and Diana allows herself to sigh, audibly; sure enough, as she had expected, there is a misshapen, blue, cartoon representation of a penis.

Robin full-on cackles with surprise, but Impulse falls of the bed with laughter.

Unfortunately, it is now Diana's job to figure out how to scold a teenager, and one who speaks no known language besides. Based on the resulting expressions she earns, Diana is unsure if the scolding works, but. Well.

...She tried.

#teenage shenanigans triumph over adversity #even trauma. Even pain. Even horror.#ALSO we finally get an outside POV on his FACE #Danny's body is perhaps a little more fucked up than he knows #health and hybrids #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover

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gingergofastboatsmojito · 1 month

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Their expiration dates have already been announced

The C Person: "September 2023"

C will stay in Chicago till September 2023 or shortly after when she will be relocated once she completes her residency in Chicago after studying in NYC, where she might come back after her "official" breakup/closure with Carmy. Relocation is super common for Resident doctors once they finish their residency.

Because the C person was only supposed to be in Carmy's life for 6 months.

They run into each other at the store in March 2023 (02X02) and by the end of S3 (August 7th, 2023) only 5 months or less have passed:

So my prediction is that that last month to complete the 6 month run she was supposed to have in the plot, will be shown to us in S4. Not sure if this will include a short-lived reconciliation with Carmy or not even that (I hope not even that TBH), but she will complete that 6-month run and then she will be gone. I have been mentioning that her role was about to become useless soon since Carmy has already had his breakthrough in several previous posts now:

The catalysts

Back where he belongs

The C file & her reverse psychology

But I came to this conclusion now after reading a comment by brilliant chef @ago0112 that pointed out that her exit from the show might have something to do with her residency, which makes total sense. Then I remembered that her deadline had already been announced from the very get-go: September 2023.

And that reminded me of these other 2 characters having similar expiration dates hidden in plain sight for us, as well:

The Eye Candy: "A few months Less than a year"

"A few months" only. Vague and ambiguous as their whole relationship is gonna be because he knows he's not here to stay.

The Joker: "Quickly".

He "wants to move quickly". How charming! That means that his arc is the shortest of the 3. He will be gone before he can get started. Not even months like in C's or Luca's case. We're talking days or weeks here. Fuck you, Shapiro!

Syd will shut him down "quickly" (as soon as S4 starts) and then she will sign The Bear's agreement and we'll go from there.

Bonus track: Comparative analysis of the agreements Syd has been offered in S3

Shapiro's:

Carmy's:

So, the only difference is the starting point's offer which is 80K annually in Shapiro's case, whereas Carmy's is HIS HEART, A STAR, HIS FAMILY, HIS FAMILY BUSINESS, FAMILY STYLE, 2 TOPS, BOOTHS, HIS BABY BLUES, HIS BICEPS, ETC 70K, but Carmy's offer may be even more solid/better financially speaking and emotionally because we don't know the % of the bonuses he offers her, and we know that in Shapiro's case it's just the one bonus upon review but Carmy offers her 2 a year, which she will never not collect, who are we kidding? So, actually, Carmy's numbers might be better than Shapiro's after all. But even if they aren't, this begs the questions: Is Carmy only worth 10K for Syd??? Would she choose Shapiro over Carmy just because this Jocker offers her +10K a year? Is that all Carmy's worth for her? If she doesn't choose based on the $$$ then but she considers Shapiro's offer out of spite for Carmy or to get out of The Bear in a desperate attempt to start clean elsewhere, is Shapiro the best option anyway? Or is she just exchancing one problem for another? Does she know this guy? And more importantly, does he know her? I answered SOME of those questions here already.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

#sydcarmy #the bear #carmy berzatto #fuck you shapiro #luca #chef shapiro #claire who?#sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #the bear fx #the bear season 3 #the bear season 4 gingerpredictions #carmen berzatto #gingerpovs #the bear meta #sydcarmy meta #the bear hulu #syd x carmen

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scribblement · 1 year

Text

Warnings: Kidnapping, Sexual Assault, Drugging, Minor Violence

Summary: Dottore leaves Sumeru, his work there finished, however he can't resist taking his new little assistant with him.

A continuation of my Dottore Akasha Mind Control Fic

Sorry for how long this part 2 took. I've still got 2 more parts in mind to write, but I honestly have no idea when I might actually write them.

I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, but please let me know if I’ve made any mistakes.

Word Count: 4599

“Don’t worry, you’ll love Snezhnaya, it’s a bit cold, but you’ll get used to it,” He leaned down towards you, gripping your chin tighter as you flinched, trying to pull away. “I’ve told the Doctor plenty about you and he’s very excited to meet you.”

You paused for a moment, taking in what you had just been told. It didn't make any sense, isn't Il Dottore supposed to be 'the Doctor'? You were sure that was what he had introduced himself as before, though your memory was fuzzy, you weren't even sure how much time had passed since you had the misfortune of meeting him.

He cocked his head to the side, watching your reaction, seemingly amused with your confusion, yet not offering any clarification.

"What do you mean 'meet the Doctor'? Isn't that you?"

His smile only grew wider as he shook his head, looking as though he was disappointed in your question, yet still finding it amusing that you would ask.

"Hmm, an interesting question. I am indeed 'the Doctor', however 'the Doctor' is also currently wrapping things up in Sumeru."

Your confusion only grew with his strange answer, and seeing his amusement at your confusion, your annoyance also grew.

"That doesn't make sense, there's more than one Il Dottore?" You looked to 'the Doctor' for more clarification, but he only gave a non-committal hum, followed by a gesture for you to continue, so you did, trying to work it out. "But if there was more than one of you people would notice. Multiple people all calling themselves 'the Doctor' would raise questions. So you'd have to look at least somewhat alike."

His smile grew slightly, and he waved you on to continue.

"Are you twins?"

At that he let out a laugh. "No, no, nothing like that."

He stepped closer to you, placing a hand on your back. You tried to move away from him, but he simply stepped closer, caging you in and pulling you closer to him so he could lean down with his mouth right by your ear.

"You're close, but I'm afraid we'll have to take this conversation somewhere more... private." With that said he suddenly stepped away from you, using his hand on your back to spin you around in one fluid motion, then guiding you back to the room that you had woken up in previously.

It happened so quickly you weren't even able to properly try to escape his grasp, before you knew it the two of you were in a room, door closed behind you, with Dottore gesturing for you to take a seat at the desk.

Hesitantly you took a seat, keeping an eye on him, unsure of what was going on.

He took a spot near the bookshelf, casually browsing through the covers before one caught his eye and he pulled it from the shelf.

"We are not twins." He looked up from his book briefly, studying your face, smirking when he saw a look of confusion cross you. "You are going somewhat in the right direction. There are many of us, and we do look quite similar, and some of us even look exactly the same. But we are not twins, or siblings of any kind."

He quietly began to read and for a while the only sound was the soft flipping of pages as he read and the sounds of waves hitting the ship, dampened by the walls. You just sat there, confused, not sure what to make of what he had said.

"Continue working through your hypothesis, work through it out loud, it can assist your brain with making connections and organizing your thoughts."

With that he gave you another small wave for you to continue your previous line of thought.

"So there's more of you, and you all look the same, but you aren't siblings. I guess you could be robots, or clones," He looked ready to say something, but you quickly continued on. "But no one's been able to do things like that. Cloning people is a far off idea, and even the best scientists haven't been able to make robots that lifelike or small. I suppose you -"

Suddenly you were cut off by the sharp sounds of a book being shut. You looked over to Dottore to see him frowning at you. He set the book back on the shelf before walking towards you, placing a hand on the desk, before leaning into you, caging you in when his other hand settled on the desktop on your other side.

"Do you think me unintelligent?" His voice was low, nearly threatening, it was the most unsettling you'd ever heard his voice, for a moment you felt very afraid. "Do you think me to be an average scholar, bumbling my way through useless research, unable to move forward past the failings of others?"

The 'no' that escaped you was small, and you were surprised that you had found your voice at all, no matter how small and afraid you sounded.

"Good, you are a smart one aren't you, just too blinded by what you've been told is possible to consider the impossible." He brought a hand up, to toy with a piece of your hair, turning it in his fingers, examining it with a neutral expression. "I am neither a clone, nor a robot, but what I am is quite similar. What I am is a segment of the true Dottore, a part of him created to provide a diverse range of perspectives from different times in his life. I am the Omega segment, and you may refer to me as such, so long as no one else is around."

His answer left you with more questions, but you weren't sure if this was the best time to ask them, so you simply accepted what he told you.

With a sigh he let your hair drop from his grasp as he stood back up, walking back over to the book shelf, studying the selection once more. You continued sitting at the desk quietly mulling things over in your mind while he once again began reading. The silence was a welcome escape, you weren't sure if you wanted to continue speaking with Dottore, or Omega, or whoever he was. Speaking with him was exhausting, it seemed like he was judging and evaluating you every time you spoke, like there was some sort of test going on and only he knew the correct answers. Not to mention, certain things seemed to set him off and you didn't want to risk his wrath, not here on a boat where you were completely at his mercy.

"You will meet Prime Dottore soon," You jumped at his voice, not having expected him to break the silence. "He is on his way, his boat will depart Sumeru soon and we will wait for him at the next port city where we will disembark and board the ship that is waiting for us."

You simply hum in response, not quite sure what to say in response. Escaping at the port seems to be your best bet for freedom, who knows what will happen when you board the next boat.

"No more questions? With such an inquisitive mind I expected you to have more questions for me, but you've been surprisingly silent."

You thought long and hard before finally voicing the question that had been on your mind ever since you woke up on this boat.

"Can I go home?"

His eyes widened slightly, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side as he studied you. He seemed genuinely confused at your question. "Home? My dear, why would you ever want to go back to that small existence?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but he swiftly cut you off before you could speak.

"We are going to Snezhnaya, and you are going to continue being my assistant, which I can assure you is quite the honor. You will have power, prestige, and you'll have the freedom to question all those silly little things you were taught in Sumeru." He waited a moment, seemingly expecting you to agree with him and drop the subject, when you didn't immediately respond he frowned slightly, studying your face to determine what you were thinking.

"If I can't leave then it doesn't seem like I have that much freedom."

He was on you quicker than you could blink, grasping your chin in his bruising grip, forcing you to look at where his eyes must be underneath his mask. You were so close to him that the beak-like protrusion on his mask was brushing against your nose. You held your breath, fear settling in once more, this version of Dottore seemed to be rather volatile, and you couldn't help but wonder if the real Dottore was just as volatile.

"You're alive aren't you? I'd say that is quite the gift, and allows for a great deal of freedom. Plus the Akasha is no longer working, so you once again have your mind. You have the freedom of your thoughts and autonomy once more, is that not enough for you? Such a greedy little thing." He sneered at you, gripping your face tighter, as he studied your expression.

When you didn't immediately respond to him he loosened his grip, showing you away from him in disgust. "We'll fix that attitude of yours eventually, you'll come to appreciate the freedoms you are given."

Fear took hold of you once more, and you were suddenly gripped with the urge to flee, you felt as though you were a rabbit cowering before a wolf. Eyes darting around you noticed that there was no lock on the door to the room you were in, which meant, if you were fast enough you could escape.

Subtly shifting your body until you were facing the door more, you quickly pushed off from the bed and lunged for the door, getting it open and racing down the hall on unsteady legs as the boat shifted beneath you.

You were shocked when instead of footsteps thundering after you you merely heard laughter, bold, full bodied laughter, he was enjoying this.

"Where do you plan on going? Or have you forgotten you are on a ship, not too many places to escape to."

His voice echoed to you through the hallways, and suddenly you were struck with the truth of his words, you were on a ship, you had forgotten that piece of information in your fear. Where could you go? From your brief time on your deck you recalled that there wasn't any land around you, so you couldn't jump overboard and swim to safety. So what could you do?

Making another split second decision you spotted a door that was slightly ajar and raced for it, quickly shutting yourself inside, moving a few boxes to hopefully provide some degree of safety, and prevent the door from being opened.

You heard the footsteps of someone casually meandering down the hallway softly echoing off the ship. With every step they slowly grew louder and louder, and you knew they were gradually drawing closer, you could only hope that this door would look unassuming and he would pass by it giving you more precious time to figure out a plan.

You saw a shadow approach your door, and then, mercifully pass right by. You let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding in and slouched back against the wall in relief.

Very short-lived relief, as a moment later the door was unceremoniously shoved open, flinging the boxes against the far wall.

His mood was difficult to discern with the mask covering most of his face, but his posture as well as the slight upturn to his mouth seemed to say that he was enjoying himself, and indeed when he spoke his voice was laced with mirth.

"Hmm, seems like you didn't pick the best hiding spot," Kneeling down to match your height he reached out to grasp your shin once more, "Now are you going to stop being so childish and come back to our room, or am I going to have to lock you in here for the remainder of our 5 day voyage?"

You took a moment to mull over your options, being locked in a room for 5 days didn't sound fun, but at least you'd be away from this volatile man. On the other hand, while you would be sacrificing a bit of freedom if you went back to 'your' room, you would have more freedom than staying put.

Taking note of your hesitation he spoke again. "I should inform you that being locked in here means you don't leave for any reason, and no one is permitted to open this door for any reason until we make landfall, that means no food, no water, nothing."

With that new piece of information in mind you made your decision.

"I'll go with you"

His smile grew as he released your chin and stepped back, gesturing for you to follow him down the hallway.

"I knew you would be reasonable," He held a hand out to you, waiting for you to take it. "Now, let's go back to our room shall we?"

He waited a moment, gauging your reaction, frowning slightly at your hesitation, though his frown quickly shifted to a smirk once you reached out to take his hand. He silently led you back down through the halls until you reached the room that you had woke up in. He led you back to the bed, and sat you down, taking a seat himself at the desk, turning to face you.

"Now, I'm sure you have questions, so," He gave a small wave towards you, "Go ahead and ask anything you like."

You thought for a moment, unsure of how many questions you would be allowed to ask, or if he would really answer them. After a moment's hesitation you decided on the most important questions that you had to ask, you needed to know what had happened after your meeting at the Akademiya.

"After I met you at the Akademiya, everything just goes blank. That was the Akasha right?"

You looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction, which was made difficult by the mask covering most of his face. But you could see the small smile playing at his lips, he was clearly amused by your question.

"An astute observation, it was indeed the Akasha's doing, I felt it would be easier if you were not aware of what was occurring, less chance of you attempting to rebel."

"So then, what happened during that time?"

"Ah, now that is the big question isn't it?" He smiled as he cocked his head to the side, studding your responses to him.

"So?" You looked at him, waiting for his answer.

"So..." he let the word trail off, waiting for you to elaborate and ask again.

"So," You huffed in annoyance, looking away from his smirking face. "What happened during that time that I don't remember."

He hummed in response, as though he was thinking over the answer, only speaking when you eventually brought your gaze back up to him, watching him once more.

"Now that is quite a valuable piece of information, and as a resident of Sumeru I'm sure you understand that all knowledge comes at a price." His smile grew as your face fell at his answer. "What will you give me in exchange for that information?"

You were taken aback at his response, he had told you to ask him any questions you had, and now he was refusing to answer them? That's just absurd.

"You said to ask you anything I wanted." You frowned, shifting on the bed to face away from him once more.

"Indeed I did, and you may ask any question you like, however whether I deign to answer them is a completely separate matter."

He stood from his desk, crossing the room in a few strides, opening a chest on the far side of the room. You remained silent as he pushed things around, looking for a specific item, eventually pulling out a box.

Walking back towards you he placed the box in your lap.

"Open it."

You weren't sure what you were expecting in the box when you opened it, but a knowledge capsule certainly wasn't high on your list of possible items.

"The offer is always open, once you decide what you are willing to trade me for that knowledge come and find me." He picked the capsule up from the box, studying how the light passed through it, turning it over in his hands. "This capsule contains all your memories from that time, while we may no longer have the Akasha system I'm sure I can make it work."

You remained silent, not sure how to respond to what he had just said, the answers you wanted were so close, but just out of reach. Who knows what you'll have to offer to get those memories back, and do you really want them? Who knows what happened, what you may have done.

You were startled out of your thoughts by a sudden knock at the door, jumping slightly from your spot on the bed. Omega simply sighed, moving from his spot to wrench open the door.

“What?”

Looking around Omega you spotted a fatuus clutching a letter in his hand, fear at having possibly interrupted the Doctor etched on his face.

“Lord Harbinger sir, a letter has just arrived for you, it is from the Regrator.”

Omega didn’t answer, merely snatching the letter from his grasp and dismissing the man with a wave before he closed the door, making his way back to his desk.

Pulling his chair out and sitting down he began rifling through papers, pulling out anything that caught his eye. Reaching into one drawer he pulled out a letter opener, quickly using it to open the letter he carelessly tossed it to the side.

You sat in silence as he scanned the letter, muttering to himself as he did. You didn’t listen too closely, but you could have sworn it almost sounded like he was having a conversation with himself.

You remained quiet, awkwardly sitting on the bed, unsure what to do with yourself. Escape wasn’t currently an option, as you had recently learned. Perhaps if you kept your head down you could make a break for it when you reached the next port, after all you’d have to leave the boat to board another, perhaps that could be your chance.

“I will be right back, behave while I’m gone.”

Omega’s voice broke through your thoughts, startling you and causing you to slightly jump.

He got up and left, closing the door behind him as he left to take care of whatever work he needed to. You quickly sprung into action as soon as his footsteps began to fade, snatching up the letter opener, it may not be much but you'd rather have a weapon, no matter how small in your possession.

You then began looking around for anything that might be of use to you. Most of the papers on his desk were complicated scientific research notes and papers on all manner of seemingly esoteric research that you weren’t able to make heads or tails of. You left them where they were, choosing instead to carefully open and search all the drawers and cupboards, unfortunately not finding anything of use.

You then took a few moments to study your sparse surroundings, the room was large, but sparsely furnished, a bed took up a bit of the space, the largest piece of furniture in the room was the desk that was beside the bed and wrapped around the room. There was nothing that you could use, and nowhere to hide.

You started hearing footsteps returning, so you quickly hid the letter opener in your pocket, careful to wrap it in a spare piece of fabric you had found so you didn’t cut yourself. You then returned to your spot on the bed where you had been before he left, trying your best to look like you hadn’t just been searching through all of his things.

When he returned he simply went back to his desk, pulling out more papers as well as an inkwell. Eventually the sounds of papers shuffling around and the scratching of pen on paper lulled you into a fitful rest, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of the day.

The rest of the voyage passed fairly uneventfully, though it was terribly boring. You were left without anything to do but sit on the bed and watch as Omega worked, you were forbidden from going anywhere on the ship unless Omega was with you, and he did not like being disturbed for anything, not even food or rest.

The first two days were oppressively quiet, by the third day you worked up your courage to make small talk with him. He didn’t speak much in response to anything you said or any questions you asked, too focused on his work to pay you much mind. But he did on occasion speak to you, which, as much as you hated to admit it, made the days a bit better. You never realised how much you craved interaction with people, no matter who they were until it was completely taken away from you.

The final day of the voyage started the same way as usual, and progressed in much the same way as well. It wasn’t until late at night that Omega broke his usual schedule, briefly leaving the room, only to return a short while later with a small plate of food and a pot of tea.

It was the first time he had ever eaten that you had seen. Eventually he noticed your gaze on him, and turned to you with a smirk.

“What is it? Do you want a treat?” He gestured to the plate he had brought in and you noticed that it didn’t contain the food you had expected, instead it had small cakes on it, who knew that he had a sweet tooth.

You ignored his jibe, knowing that if you addressed it he would get no end of enjoyment from your anger, instead choosing to focus on the cakes.

“What are they?” You asked as you moved closer, slowly perching yourself on the edge of the bed so you could get a better look. They were small rectangular shaped cakes, with what looked like layers of cream and chocolate, plus a layer of chocolate on top.

“A traditional Fontaine desert, I find them to be quite enjoyable.” He took his fork, and reached over to the plate, taking a small chink out of one of the cakes before taking a bite.

You had to admit, it looked delicious and you weren’t sure how long it had been since you last had something sweet. When you worked at your bakery you would have sweets every now and again, when you were surrounded by them all day it was easy to take one and have a small snack.

And you had never had any cakes or pastries from Fontaine, when would you ever get a chance again?

“Can I?”

He smiled when you spoke, taking his fork once again, and gathering up some of the cake for you, before holding out the fork for you to take a bite from.

You hesitantly leaned over, unsure of his intentions, but when he didn’t make any moves you took a bite from the fork, sitting back down as you did. You savored the bite, it was different from cakes that you had previously made and tried. It was soft and creamy, you could taste almond, and chocolate, but also a distinct coffee taste, there was also a bitter flavour that you couldn’t quite place, but you assumed that it was a spice or ingredient from Fontaine that you haven’t tried before.

“Well?”

He studied your expressions as you ate, smile widening when he saw your eyes drift to the second piece on his plate.

“It’s good,” You hesitantly leaned back towards him. “Can I have more?”

He sat back in his chair, studying you for a moment before smiling again.

“I suppose you can, after all you have been rather well behaved, aside from the incident, on your first day awake.” He pulled out another fork and placed the plate on the empty section of desk beside you, allowing you to finish the cake that had a few bites out of it while he ate the other.

The two of you ate in silence, savoring the delicious cakes, and all too soon they were gone. Omega took the forks and plate, leaving the room to return them to the kitchen.

You began feeling tired, and let the gentle swaying motion of the ship rock you to sleep.

Your mind was fuzzy, tired with sleep as an unknown sensation slowly pulled you from your dreams. You began shifting around, feeling a pressure on your hips, almost pinning you down.

"Shhh, shh, shhh," A soft voice broke through the sleepy haze of your mind, you knew that voice, but couldn't quite place it. "Relax, bunny, just relax."

You made a soft noise of discomfort as you continued trying to move, something other than sleep was stopping you from being able to move as much as you wanted to.

You felt a hand trailing up your side, ghosting over your skin as it traced unknown patterns across your skin. Then you felt another strange sensation, a soft press against your neck, and then again, moving higher and higher.

You tried to squirm away again, when that was unsuccessful you focused on trying to focus your vision. Everything was so blurry you couldn't make out anything distinct. When you turned your head slightly you saw blue hair.

When you moved again, you were suddenly roughly pinned down, and a face came into view. Through your altered vision you couldn't make out much, just blue hair and red eyes.

"Stay still, stop fighting the sedative, just go back to sleep."

You thrashed, trying to get away from the unwanted touches, or at least you tried to. Whatever sedative he had dosed you with was having quite the effect, you were barely able to move.

He tutted as you continued trying to squirm away from him.

"You know, you were so much more compliant when you had the Akasha."

You stilled at that, a thousand thoughts running through your mind as your blood turned to ice. What had he done to you when you had been under the control of the Akasha?

He hummed when you stilled, pleased with your seeming compliance.

"That's it, just like that." His hands resumed their exploration of your body, leaving a burning trail of shame in you everywhere he touched. "I don't know how much time we have left together, so just lay still and let me commit your body to memory."

Panic welled up in you once more and you desperately tried to move again, to speak, to do anything to stop him. All your efforts rewarded you with was a sigh from Omega as he lifted himself off of you before he reached into the bedside table, searching for something. You couldn't see what he pulled out, but suddenly you felt a sharp pinch in your arm before your vision slowly faded back to black.

#yandere genshin #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #yandere dottore #🔮.dottore #🔮.genshin #🔪.darkcontent #cw:yandere #cw:sexual assault #cw:kidnapping #.mine

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midwesternvibes · 6 months

Text

Time for more Seperated Leo Human AU! (I really need a name good lord-)

As promised, we now get to look into Leon's lore! He's a funky little guy, and shockingly well adjusted!

Lore drop under the cut!

His full name is Leonardo Tomás Esposito, and he is quite proud of it! He picked it out himself when he was about 10 years old, and he's happy to say that he still loves it to this day! (Fun fact: all of the names have double meanings to them hehe)

But anyways, his Mamà is in fact, NOT Big Mama (but it was a solid guess!), her name is actually Mia Esposito! (+10 Fandom points to anyone who can guess her full first name) She is a full time nurse and used to travel around the several NYC hospitals as an on-call nurse, but once Leon was born she stuck her roots down to one and has been there ever since!

She's actually an incredibly interesting character (with her very own arc!) with a lot of depth and meaning. She grew up with her Puerto Rican mother and Italian father, but after a series of misfortunes and despair, she ended up immigrating to NYC to start a new life for herself. About 10 years later she began raising a baby all on her own as a single immigrant mother in New York City (Sound familiar?). Whenever Leon asks about his father she tells him that she doesn't remember his Papá, only that he had the same almond-shaped brown eyes as her baby boy....

But ultimately she doesn't remember him hahaha maybe Leon should stop asking questions and get back to studying!

(Leon knows that she's hiding something, but ultimately he doesn't care about his father that much, he just assumes that he did something to hurt his Mamá and wants nothing to do with the man at all)

Leon and his Mamá are very close, they're very similar to Percy and Sally Jackson from the PJO series, and they would definitely fight God for each other.

Leon was raised very much with the mentality of "It takes a village" and has many aunts and uncles and relatives in the hospital staff that he considers family. Mia couldn't really afford childcare as Leon grew up, as it often came down to food or rent for the month. The hospital staff saw this and absolutely adored little baby Esposito, so they were more than happy to raise him alongside their own children. Mia owes her life to this staff and considers them her family through and through.

As he grew up, Leon saw all his favorite people as nurses and doctors and considered each and every one of them heros. He decided very early on that he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and after a terrible injury when he was 14 it cemented the fact that he wanted to be a pediatric surgeon, to help kids just like him.

But the issue is, Leon and Mia definitely do not have enough to cover medical school for Leon on a single nurse's income, even with all the jobs that Mia and Leon have taken over the years. That's why Leon NEEDS the athletic and valedictorian scholarship, without it he won't be able to achieve his dream. The only thing standing in his way is.....

THE HAMATOS

(Except Michael, he's a gift)

Leon is willing to do ANYTHING to get those scholarships, but his Mamá always reminds him that the Hamatos might need it just as badly as he does, and that's about all that's keeping him from REALLY doing anything to hurt/sabotage them. His Mamá has instilled a really strict moral code into his psyche and he won't actually do anything to them, he just....really wants to give his Mamá a better life, one she deserves.

Although, he is kinda curious as to why the Hamato brothers have the same eyes as him......

First // Previous // Next

Whew! That was pretty much just a really intense ramble, sorry there was no actual structure to that, I just really wanted to talk about my Leon lore! Props to anyone who figures out the significance of all the names, and to clear up any confusion, Mia is Half Puerto Rican, half Italian, and Leon is 1/4 Puerto Rican, 1/4 Italian, and 1/2 Japanese (but shhh he doesn't know that yet) and obviously he's got that amazing vitiligo (shout out to anyone and everyone with vitiligo, y'all are amazing and beautiful)

Thanks for reading my lore dump, see ya next time for..... huh idk yet, vote ig

See ya next time!

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apeekintothepantry · 7 months

Text

Meet Violet Fielding, my original historical character from 1918 Boston!

I've been doing some workshopping with my custom historical characters because I've been a little bored with AG's historical offerings of late, and because it's a fun excuse to dig into moments in time that interest me personally, but AG probably wouldn't produce a similar character themselves. (I say that, but my 1940's Hawaii character predates Nanea, so who knows! Maybe I'm manifesting some future stuff I can borrow for my gals.)

Violet is the youngest of three siblings. Her older sister Alice is in her early 20's and either a nurse or a Hello Girl, leaning towards nursing because I'm not sure I want her to go overseas and she could work at a hospital in Boston during the war. Her older brother James is 19 and enlists in the Marines once the US enters World War I. I think by Violet Saves the Day, he's returned home dealing with quite a bit of "shellshock" and that becomes a somewhat major theme.

Her parents are pretty wealthy, and the family lives in a brownstone on Beacon Hill in Boston. Her dad is a doctor and mom is a suffragist who also gets involved in causes supporting the war effort. Both parents are very supportive of their kids following their passions and getting themselves out there in this still relatively new century, which is why Alice has been allowed to go to school instead of immediately marrying some wealthy guy.

Vi herself is a precocious and creative kid. I think she likes to draw and paint and generally be crafty and creative, which comes in handy when brainstorming ways she can support her brother overseas and the war effort more broadly. While she's not afraid to get her hands dirty, she does like typically girly things like having teatime and looking at catalogs filled with new dresses. Her book series would theoretically cover 1917 through 1919 or so, and touch on the war, Women's Suffrage, the Spanish Flu, shellshock, and possibly the Boston Molasses Disaster.

Currently I'm trying to come up with a best friend character for her, as she really needs a Nellie or Ruthie in her life with the age difference and both siblings being off doing exciting and scary things without her. There are a lot of different directions I could go in with said friend - fellow wealthy-ish kid feels boring, Boston had a lot of new immigrant communities in the 1910's, some of whom did live in a specific part of Beacon Hill, Boston historically struggles with insidious covert racism but was still a city with a number of prominent Black and Jewish communities - and nothing's quite clicked as perfect just yet.

Violet is a Marie-Grace doll with a Nanea wig. Someone was selling her on a Facebook group a few years ago and I immediately felt like she was a Violet and needed to join my crew. Her last name was inspired by Lady Dorothie Fielding, a British woman who drove an ambulance during WWI and received several awards for bravery and service. Fielding's letters home were published after her death and are a really fascinating look at what it was like on the front lines doing this incredibly dangerous and important work. I used it as a major primary source for an educational interactive I helped develop in one of my previous jobs.

#american girl doll #american girl #american girl dolls #agblr #ag doll #ag dolls #american girl oc #violet fielding

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queenshelby · 1 year

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Chemical Reactions (P. 10)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut

Words: 1,245

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9

THIS PART IS DIALOGUE HEAVY AND PART EIGHT WILL BE SIMILAR, BOTH PARTS ARE NECESSARY THOUGH TO EXPAND THE STORY.

Three months later…

Over the next three months, you did not get to see Robert and whilst you worked on your thesis with Dr Lawrance in the experimental department and another professor in the theoretical department, you struggled with the mere fact that you could not run your ideas past the man you were now connected to more deeply than you had ever thought to be possible.

You knew that, at least physically, Robert was far away from you now and, yet, emotionally, he was so close since, just as he had promised, he wrote to you, week after week.

His letters were detailed and poetic, handed to you by no other than Dr Lawrance himself and, whilst Lawrance hated to be the middle man in all of this, he also knew that he had no choice.

“He writes to you more often than he writes his wife” he told you after a month or so had passed while, truthfully, you still had no idea where he was.

“You aren’t reading those letters though, are you?” you asked your professor who, reluctantly, shook his head.

“I admit that I have read the first two or three letters to ensure that there isn’t anything in them that concerns me or the security of the project, the nature of which I know you are somewhat aware of. But then I became to realise that the content of Robert’s letters has nothing to do with physics at all so I stopped reading” Dr Lawrance then admitted with blushing cheeks and, of course, you could not help but cock your eyebrows.

“Robert has a habit of being romantic. I am sorry Dr Lawrance” you stammered, concerned by the fact that your professor was now very aware of your personal life.

“We live in a time of turmoil and scarcity so, please, don’t apologise for engaging in a little pleasure now and then” Dr Lawrance responded before warning you that, if he had any reason to believe that you were going to engage in treason, he would report you as well as his colleague to the authorities for investigation.

“I understand, doctor and I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about” you reassured him which is also when he handed you yet another letter from Robert which, as usual, you could not help but read in a haste.

As such, you quickly handed Dr Lawrance a letter for Robert that you had prepared in the past week, responding to his previous poems and admissions of love and desire for you before, quickly, hiding away in one of the empty laboratories to tare open the envelope.

The letters…

“Even now, when I am so far away from you, in my mind's eye, I can see your smile. I can hear your laughter. I can taste your lips. This is when I realise how much I need you, my love” he wrote, amongst other things, in his past letters, the contents of which always made you blush.

With every word you read, your heart was filled with warmth and desire for him and, when you read through his writings every week, you took comfort in what he wrote to you, knowing that he missed you just as much as you missed him.

It was those words of his, from a man like him, that made you feel special and powerful. He was a man who was so utterly important to this country now and, out of all the women in his life, he seemed to desire you most which was evidenced by his writing.

His letters were always several pages long and, every week, you received at least one of them, making you wonder how much time he spent in between work to think about you. According to Doctor Lawrance, it must have been several hours at least seeing that no one else received this much correspondence from J Robert Oppenheimer, not even his wife who, in his letters, Robert said he did not love anymore and yet, he could not leave.

“I must retire now, or I will be overcome with love for you which is a feeling that has been rather unfamiliar to me for quite some time now” he thus said at the end of his last letter to you to which you responded with great enthusiasm.

You too wrote to him every week and, with every letter you received and every letter you sent, your feelings for Robert were growing stronger.

Your letters were also slowly becoming more intimate and sexual in nature and whilst Robert had no problem with being explicit, you struggled a little more with the idea of being open about your needs.

“I have very little power to resist the urge to kiss you again and convey my feelings for you with my body atop yours. I want to be one with you again and fight a great conundrum this night and every night, until we are together my love…” Robert told you on several occasions before you built up the courage to do the same.

“I cannot wait to see and feel you again Robert, but I can promise you that you are all I am thinking about when I am alone, wishing that my hands atop of my bare skin were yours” you thus wrote back while also telling Robert, in your final letter to him, that you were struggling to come to terms with his prolonged absence.

“It is in these quiet moments where I write you that I realise the depths of my loneliness and yet, I do not feel sad. I know that if it were not for the intensity of my feelings for you, I would not long for you the way I do” you wrote just last week which was the letter Robert had now responded to with only a short note, being the letter you received today.

“My love, I cannot bare another moment of being without you. Without you, I ache and this letter marks yet another step in my quest to illustrate to you just how important you are to me. These lonely nights will not build upon one another any longer and threaten the integrity of the foundation of our love. I will not allow it. It has been three months since our last encounter and I must see you again. I will be visiting the Four Seasons on Lane Street next week. Meet me there at noon on 3 March. Room 452. Yours always, Robert” was what it said and, since Robert told you that he had taken a room at the hotel that day, you knew that you had to drop everything else and meet him there. It was a chance you could not pass up and did not want to miss out on although, unbeknownst to you, you were being watched and so was Robert.

In fact, as soon as Robert made the booking at the hotel, General Groves’ security team contacted the receptionist of this luxury accommodation and ascertained the room number assigned to J Robert Oppenheimer for his impending visit.

The General’s team advised the receptionist that this was a matter of national security and since the receptionist could not deny providing the army officials with the information they had requested, the room number was given to a team of infiltrators.

As a result, the room was bugged with two listening devices, due to the concern that, perhaps, Robert was passing on secret information to you and the soviets.

This, of course, was nonsense though as General Groves’ assigned personnel was soon to find out when listening into your somewhat personal encounter with Robert and, yet, it would life changing consequences for you both…

TO BE CONTINUED. PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #robert oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer #oppenheimer 2023 #robert oppenheimer smut #j robert oppenheimer x you #General Groves

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aspoonofsugar · 1 year

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Oshi No Ko - A Family Of Stars

I caught up with Oshi No Ko, so here are some opinions and meta thoughts.

AN INVERSION OF NAOKI URASAWA'S MONSTER

Oshi No Ko and Monster are 2 very different stories, but some plot elements and conflicts are similar:

Monster is the story of a surgeon, who must track down a serial killer whose life he has saved. This monster is one of 2 twins and the story deals with the brother and sister uncovering their past

Oshi No Ko is the story of a doctor, who is murdered and reborn as his favourite idol's child. Together with him there is a twin sister and they must track down the killer of their mother. The series leads the twins to find closure with their previous selves, so they can embrace a new life

In short, in both series there is a pair of twins and a murderer. It is just that in Monster the twins have no memories nor sense of selves, while in Oshi No Ko they have too many memories and baggage.

Finally, in Monster the characters must uncover the truth behind Johan, while in Oshi No Ko they must find out who Ai really is. The former is about understanding a monster, whereas the latter is about empathizing with a goddess.

(A)IDOL

The invincible smile that tears up the media Wanna know her secret, so mysterious Even the things she lacks end up in her area Such a perfect liar, you are: [Miss] ingenious, godly idol (You're my savior, you're my saving grace)

In religion an idol is:

An object which represents a deity, so it can become a manifestation of the god itself

A fake god, at least in monotheistic religions, like Judaism, Christianity and Islam

So, idols are gods. And yet, they are fake gods. In particular, monotheistic religions refuse idols because they are over-simplified representations of the divine.

Similarly, people worship celebrities, but only aknowledge their simplistic personas. Actors and idols are put on a pedestal, but also objectified:

So, what'd you eat today? What's your favorite book? And if you wanna go to play, where are you gonna go? I haven't eaten at all That's a secret No matter what you ask She's elusive, evasive Yet still shining bright; Her secret: out of sight, as if visible, has the taste of honey

They aren't seen as people with complex emotions, but as blank slates fans project their feelings onto.

This is why Ai Hoshino is the ultimate idol:

Drawing everyone's eyes You are the perfect, ultimate idol Never to appear again A reincarnation of Venus With that smile, with that "I love you" You captivate everyone Even if those eyes, those words, are false They make up a perfect love (Ai)

Ai's whole self is a lie. Not because she is malicious, but rather because she lacks a sense of self:

She is not sure of her own emotions and can't tell truth from lies. Everything is mixed and unclear. What does it even mean to love? What does Ai even want?

Ai is supposed to embody love. After all, she is associated to the Morning Star, which is called Venus, also known as the Goddess of Love. And yet, Ai's true eyes are dark:

Similarly, the word "ai" means love, but our idol's name is written with no kanji, which makes it the Japanese transcription of the English word for eye.

Ai's name is the sound of love, but with no kanjis (no meaning) attached. Ai is an empty love with empty eyes. This is the pun she is built on.

Still, why is that so? Well, Ai's parents don't put kanjis in her name, just like they don't love her:

So, Ai's character is defined by these 2 ideas:

I have never been loved by anyone Nor have I loved anyone else

On the one hand she was never loved. On the other hand she has never loved. Because of this, she thinks of herself as a fake.

AI (PURPLE) = AQUA (BLUE) + RUBY (RED)

Ai has stars in both her purple eyes. Aqua and Ruby instead have only 1 star each. Moreover, Aqua has blue eyes, while Ruby has red eyes. The idea is very simple. They are Ai's 2 sides:

Aqua is blue, right, mind and an actor

Ruby is red, left, heart and an idol

Together they make Ai, down to her 2 parallel careers (as an actress and as an idol). That said, the twins' foiling with their mother gets deeper:

As Miyako highlights, both Aqua and Ruby are liars. It is just that they lie about opposite things. On the one hand Aqua hides his most positive and vulnerable side. On the other hand Ruby hides her negative feelings. Aqua always sulks, while Ruby always smiles.

Aqua suppresses his wish to love others and to be happy with them

Ruby suppresses her fear to be unloved and abandoned by those around her

In short, each twin explores one of Ai's complexes (to love and to be loved). They really are the 2 faces of Ai (love).

AQUA - THE UNLOVING ACTOR

Aqua's story starts with Gorou Amamiya:

Gorou is a person strongly defined by guilt, which is at the root of his backstory. His mother was a young girl, who died by giving birth to him. As a result, Gorou feels he lives at her expenses and does all he can to rectify this mistake. For example, he becomes an obstetrician, even if he really wants to be a surgeon. Not only that, but he ends up developing a saviour complex. He feels it is his failure that Sarina dies, even if her illness can't be cured and has nothing to do with Gorou's area of expertise.

So, it is really no surprise that once Ai arrives, he projects on her the 2 people he could not save:

Ai is Sarina's favourite idol and a young girl like her

Ai is a teenage mother and is desperate to give birth in secret, just like Gorou's own mother

Ai represents Gorou's chance of redemption and catharsis. He could not save neither his mom nor Sarina, but he can help Ai. She needs the kind of doctor he is and this time he can make things right. However, Gorou is negated this closure and gets killed and reborn as Ai's own son. A son, who is destined to witness his mother's death. This time again, Aqua is powerless and can't save Ai. So, the story repeats and Aqua is left broken:

Aqua's real wish is to save people, but he keeps failing, so he chooses the path of revenge. He becomes his own antithesis.

He feels he doesn't deserve to live happily with others, but his wish to connect is too strong and he ends up forging some of the deepest bonds in the series:

He insists he is only focused on revenge, but ends up warming up to Kana and Akane to the point he goes out of his way to support them multiple times. Even when it doesn't help his avenge quest.

This is made clear in recent chapters, as well. Aqua has decided to give up on all his bonds. He cuts ties with Akane, decides to manipulate Kana and betrays Ruby's trust. He insists he is ready to go to hell alone. And yet, even after he takes such a dark turn, he can't help, but to save Ruby:

As Crow Girl says, this is a bad move on Aqua's side. His revenge would be easier if Ruby hated him, but he lets his true feelings out. He tries to repress his love and care for others. And yet, it keeps manifesting through the cracks of his vengeful persona. Aqua decides not to love, but he still does.

RUBY - THE UNLOVED IDOL

Ruby's story starts with Sarina Tendouji:

Sarina's life is doomed by her illness, which results in her parents abandoning her. Not only does she suffer physically, but she feels unloved. Despite that, she refuses to give up and laces on 2 people, who become her personal lights (stars):

Ai is the girl Sarina wishes to be. A person who is showered with love, as she shines brightly and moves freely on a stage.

Gorou is a parental substitude, as he is the only adult, who supports Sarina throughout her illness. He is even the person who stays with her, while she dies.

So, Ai and Gorou are around when Sarina's parents aren't, which is why she ends up idolizing them. Ai becomes some kind of ideal self, while Gorou becomes her first crush. The truth, though, is that they are the 2 pillars of Sarina's life.

Ironically, Sarina's make believe family becomes Ruby's real one. In particular, Ai becomes a mother, who loves her children with all her heart. This is healing for Ruby, who projects her wish for love on Ai:

It is Ai's strong emotions, which make it possible for Ruby to recover from the loss of her mother:

Ruby pursues the career of idol earnestly to become a star who never lies. And yet, she keeps lying to herself, as she refuses to confront Sarina's past. This negation is why her reaction to Gorou's death is so strong. This discovery becomes a catalyst for all of Ruby's negative feelings:

Ruby becomes her own antithesis and starts to climb up high through manipulation and lies. It is implied she weakens her relationships and later on she enters a violent fight with Aqua, which breaks their bond.

And yet, when Ruby hits rock bottom and confronts the painful truth that her parents have abandoned Sarina, it is Aqua who comes to her rescue:

Even if Ruby breaks their relationship and is prepared to live without trusting anyone anymore, she is still loved. The girl who fears rejection and abandonement is loved even in her darkest moment.

IDOL + FANS = MOTHER + CHILDREN

Aqua and Ruby are opposites. Aqua is scared to be loved and can't let go of Gorou. Ruby is scared to be unloved and can't face Sarina. And yet, they are also the same. Both project their deeper issues on both each other and Ai.

Gorou's feelings over his mother are projected on Sarina. Similarly, he projects his feelings for Sarina on Ai

Sarina's feelings over her mother are projected on Gorou. Later on, she decides to become like Ai because of her promise to Gorou

In short, Gorou wants to protect Ai because of Sarina and Sarina wants to become like Ai because of Gorou. As a result, Ai ends up as the object of their fantasies and wishes. A real godly idol.

Obviously, Gorou and Sarina's feelings towards Ai grow deeper and more complex as they are reborn as her twins. Slowly, their relationship goes from that of idol and fans to that of mother and children.

So, Aqua and Ruby's story is about overcoming the idealization of Ai. Both as fans towards their favourite idol and as children towards their mother. After all, isn't a mother their child's idol?

SUSANOO, AMATERASU AND MARIA

Among other things, the theme of idolisation is conveyed through the religious motif of the Hoshino Family.

Even the flowing sweats are beautiful Aqua These eyelids that hid the Ruby within

The lyrics reference the legend of Susanoo and Amaterasu:

According to tradition, the 3 god siblings Susanoo, Tsukuyomi and Amterasu are born from the creator god Izanagi. as he washes his face in a river. Tsukuyomi (Moon Goddess) is born from Izanagi's right eye, Amaterasu (Sun Goddess) from his left eye and Susanoo (Sea God) from his nose. In short:

Aqua is a composite version of Tsukuyomi and Susanoo. He has inherited Ai's right eye, like Tsukuyomi. However, the opening associates him to his mother's sweat, like Susanoo is born from Izanagi blowing his nose. Finally, his name links him to the sea

Ruby alludes to Amaterasu. She has inherited Ai's left eye, the opening links her to her mother's eyes and she herself mentions the goddess

This reference loosely comments Aqua and especially Ruby's arcs.

Amaterasu and Susanoo enter a fight, which leaves the Goddess crying and depressed. She hides in a cave and without the light of the sun, the world is left in darkness. The other Gods come up with a plan to lure Amaterasu out of her prison. In particular, the God of Enterteinment Ame-no-Uzume organizes a celebration for a new bright Goddess. Amaterasu gets curious and eventually comes out from the cave, so the world gets sunlight back.

Does any of this sound familiar?

Ame-no-Uzume is mentioned multiple times together with Amaterasu. Moreover, the characters visit the Goddess of Enterteinment's temple and they metaphorically enter Amaterasu's cave:

What the story does is clear, right? Ruby's arc is loosely an inversion of Amaterasu's story.

The Sun Goddess enters a fight with her brother and hides in a cave, only to be rescued by the Goddess of Enterteinment. Ruby is guided by Crow Girl (who could be a composite character between Yagatarasu and Ame-no-Uzume herself) and enters a cave, where she finds Gorou's body. This leads to Ruby going through her eclipse phase, where her eyes go dark. Eventually, she is helped by her brother and she finds her inner light again.

It is possible that Aqua's story will mirror Susanoo's in a similar way. After all, the God of the Sea is famous for killing a monstrous serpent to protect a Princess and for finding a Magical Sword within the beast. This may reference Aqua's quest for revenge, who leads him to find a princess (Akane-Princess Saya) and a blade (Kana-Tsurugi). That said, it is too soon to say.

As a final note, Ruby and Aqua's fight ties into the mythological motif. After all, Amaterasu enters into conflicts with both Susanoo and Tsukuyomi. In Amaterasu and Susanoo's case, they go through a divination ritual, so that Susanoo can prove his good intentions. Susanoo passes the trial, but the aftermath leads to the siblings fighting. When it comes to Ruby and Aqua, Ruby gets angry at Aqua for betraying Ai. As a result, Aqua has to mend his bond with Ruby by revealing his past self. To do so, he proves his identity through the Ai-keychan (a divine sign). He passes the trial.

What's most interesting about these references is Ame-no-Uzume's role. The Goddess of Enterteinment is an ally of Amaterasu, but Crow Girl leads the characters towards darkness. Thematically, she may embody the darkest part of the enterteinment world, which finds fun in people suffering.

So, what about Ai? What is her religious symbolism? Let's turn to Christianity:

Sing, dance, flutter, I am Maria — Right, lying is the most exquisite form of love

Mary is famous for having Jesus, while still a virgin. She is so perfect that God chooses her to bear his child. Similarly, Ai is an idol and is requested to be pure, so for her to have a sexual partner is out of question.

Still, Aqua and Ruby's reaction to the idea of a father is interesting. It speaks of their idealization of Ai both as her children and as her 2 biggest fans. At the same time, it betrays a wish to repress everything related to the final member of the Hoshino family.

MEPHISTO

As @hamliet explains in her meta, Hikaru Kamiki's name means God of Light, which is a reference to Lucifer, the fallen angel turned king of hell. It is a fitting imagery for Ai's enemy. Ai is Aqua and Ruby's goddess, so her killer can only be the devil. Similarly, Lucifer betrays God and Hikaru betrays Ai.

So, what is known about Hikaru Kamiki? Only 2 things:

He was raped and forced to have a son when he was 11

He is a serial killer, who targets famous celebrities

In particular, it is probable Hikaru idolises Ai, just like his children do. As a child, he is raped by a woman, then he meets Ai and has a relationship with her. However, his unsolved trauma almost surely ends up compromising his story with the idol and he eventually kills her. Later on, he projects his feelings over Ai on women similar to her, whom he targets in a neverending cycle.

This psychological mechanism makes him the embodyment of the most twisted love possible:

He was loved wrong (he was raped)

He loves wrong (he kills women he is attracted to)

Given this premise, he is clearly going to be defeated and he will probably die in the end. Still, the way he goes down will be important for Aqua and Ruby, as it will decide their future, as well.

In general, Hikaru is probably meant to be a negative foil (a jungian shadow) to the twins, as he represents their darkest parts. In particular, it is gonna be interesting if he foils them not only on the main theme of love, but also on the theme of lies and truth.

Aqua explores the idea of lies. He hides things from others and manipulates them. At the same time, he also experiences how good beautiful lies can be (his happy life when he thinks his father died). Most of all, though, he embodies the idea that a lie can become truth and vice versa. For example, his most effective manipulation technique is to mix his true feelings with his lies. He tells Kana she is cute because he thinks so. He tells Akane he is interested in her as an actress because it is true. He manipulates both girls, but his feelings are genuine.

Ruby explores the idea of truth. She hates liars and doesn't want to lie even if it would help her become an idol faster. Still, she experiences how painful truth can be (her discovery of Gorou's body). This leads her to lie to both herself and others. In the end, though, an even more painful truth comes out (her parents do not love her). No matter how much Ruby tries to hide her feelings, truth will come out. And yet, despite how agonizing it is, truth also leads to happiness. She is devastated after seeing Sarina's mother again, but this lets Ruby and Aqua find each other as Sarina and Gorou. As a result, Ruby is now happier and stronger.

So, in which way may Hikaru foil his children here? There might already be hints:

Just like Aqua, Hikaru is a master at manipulating others with truth. After all, it is implied he manipulated his rapist's husband to kill her by revealing her infidelity. Similarly, he orchestrates Ai's death by telling an unstable fan about her pregnancy. Even when it comes to Yura Katayose, he openly tells the actress to watch her step. An open threath masked as advice.

Just like Ruby, it is possible Hikaru values truth and hates liars. This could easily tie in his backstory and explain why his relationship with Ai degenerates:

I shall lie today as well (Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!) Hoping that one day, these words will become true (Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!) And yet, still, (Hey! Hey!) I have been unable to tell you, and you, alone (Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!)

Ai sees herself as a liar unable to love. This is obviously the real lie, as her heart is full of love. Still, it wouldn't be surprising if Ai's own issues exasperated Hikaru's fear to be used again. From what we know, it is probable Ai and Hikaru have feelings for each other, at a certain point. Then things go bad. What if Ai's inability to express her love and Hikaru's inability to understand lead to their breakout and eventual tragedy?

Obviously, this is all a theory, but one thing is sure. Ai and Hikaru's relationship is key for understanding their characters and their legacy to the twins. Still, Ai is already dead and Hikaru will die in the end. How can their story find a closure, then?

A WORK OF FICTION TO SHOW THE TRUTH

The climax of the series is building up towards the movie, which is gonna represent Hikaru and Ai's story.

Interestingly, Aqua is playing Hikaru, while Ruby is playing Ai. It is obvious a lot of emotional payoff rides on this. On the one hand it is gonna be a chance for Aqua and Ruby to sort out their feelings towards each other. On the other hand Kana and Akane will probably do the same, which will solve their love triangle with Aqua. (spoiler - KanaXAqua is probably endgame).

What is really interesting, though, is that the movie is set up to reveal who Ai really is. After all, the godly idol asks the director to film the real her and this request should be satisfied. Not only that, but Ai leaves her children 2 tapes whose contents are still to be shown. So, whatever Ai's legacy is, it will be made clear. This is true also for her bond with Hikaru:

So, does Ai forgive Hikaru or not? Her children seem to believe in the latter. However, the former is probably true.

First of all, it is probable Ai realizes Hikaru is behind her murder. The stalker arrives with a bouquet of white roses, which are associated to Hikaru. Moreover, Hikaru is the only person, who knows both about the twins and the new address. Secondly, Ai shows no rage nor fear for the fan who murders her. The man is clearly a stand-in for Hikaru in the scene. Despite his actions, Ai does not lose time hating him, but spends her final moments affirming her love for her and Hikaru's children. In short, Ai possibly knows of Hikaru's involvement, but doesn't regret their kids.

Still, will Aqua and Ruby portray this in their movie? And does Aqua's revenge ride on Ai's forgiveness or hate towards Hikaru? Will the twins understand their mother?

Whatever the result, it is probable Aqua and Ruby will eventually run into their father. In particular, Hikaru is set up as a threath to the 3 main girls:

He sends Akane white roses and she is determined to stop Aqua's revenge, which may put her in harm's way

He is the thematically opposite of Kana. He embodies twisted love and twisted truth. She embodies healthy love and genuine feelings

Finally, there is several build up towards him trying to eventually kill Ruby:

He comments that Ruby is growing up beautiful

He kills Yura, who is the original first choice for Ai's role

Ruby ends up playing Ai in the movie

If this third scenario becomes true, it could give closure to all the character arcs. Ruby may empathize with Ai and forgive her father. Aqua may be given the chance to save Ruby (symbolically both Ai and Sarina) this time. Finally, the outcome may offer catharsis to Hikaru before he dies. In short, I think Hikaru is gonna die, but that the twins are not killing him. Rather, they are gonna understand their mother's feelings and survive their parents' tragedy.

A SECOND CHANCE

Hikaru and Ai's story is a sad one, but Aqua and Ruby's is gonna have a happy outcome. After all, the whole series is about overcoming death and getting second chances.

Gorou and Sarina both go past their deaths and are given brand new lives

The new B Komachi is a second chance for all its members. It is a second chance to live for Ruby, a second chance for Kana's career, a second chance to fulfill Mem-cho's idol dream. Finally, it is the second chance of Ichigo and Miyako's wish to come true

Miyako and Ichigo's love story will also be given a second chance

The movie is the director's second chance to realize Ai's wish to film her real self

In short, this theme is everywhere and it is possible the series ends with B Komachi performing in a dome, exactly as it starts. This time, though, things will go well.

Still, doesn't something feel odd? After all, if the series is about second chances, why isn't Ai given one?

THE REAL AI (TRUE LOVE)

I think there are 2 reasons Ai isn't reborn:

1- Aqua and Ruby are Ai's second chance

The twins are Ai's legacies and will fulfill her dream for her:

Someday, surely, I will have it all in hand I am such a greedy idol Because I wish to love everybody properly in a life-sized way

Ai's wish is to reconcile her family with her idol career. She wants to love both her children and her fans. She wants it all. Well, Aqua and Ruby come to embody these 2 different forms of love:

Aqua is given a lot of focus when it comes to personal relationships. An important part of his arc is his feelings for Akane and Kana and he is not that much interested in the enterteinment business per se. In the end, he may also choose to fulfill his dream to become a surgeon

Ruby's dream is to become an idol, who shines even more brightly than Ai. Moreover, Ruby's wish is pure in how she doesn't want to lie nor to manipulate others to get there. She is right now also stepping into the role of actress, so by the end Ruby may catch up and surpass Ai in both her careers (idol and actress)

In other words, Aqua may live the love of a happy relationship and family, while Ruby may live the love of openly loving the world and people in general. Whatever the case, Aqua and Ruby will fulfill Ai's main wish which is for them to grow up healthy and happy.

2- Ai doesn't need reincarnation because she in fact does fulfill her dream

Ai wants to love both her family and her fans, which is what she does at the very end.

She remembers the stalker's name and his present. She proves to him she never took her fans for granted

She is able to tell her children she loves them and realizes she is not lying

Ah, I've said it now at last This is definitely not a lie; I love you

Ai's wish is to love and to be loved and she gets it through her twins. Aqua and Ruby feel they owe their mother something and that it is cruel they get to live a second life, while Ai doesn't. Still, they are wrong. If Gorou and Sarina were not reborn, Ai would have had a stillbirth, which would have broken her. Just by existing, they fulfill Ai's dream. They give Ai the love she so desperately craves.

By the end, Hoshino Ai becomes the embodyment of true love. True love isn't perfect. It is complicated, as people struggle and make mistakes. Still, if the wish is genuine enough, it shines incredibly bright. So does Ai, not as an idol, but as a real person (the true Ai).

#oshi no ko #oshi no ko meta #oshi no ko theory #ai hoshino #aqua hoshino #ruby hoshino #hikaru kamiki #my meta

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