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magicalsalamander · 4 years

Text

Show Me Your Teeth

Pairing: BTS Jimin ⇆ Reader

Summary: Hybrids were common amongst civilians, but monsters lurked, created by the government. H.O.U.N.D, pronounced hound, is Hybrid Operation in United Negotiation of Defense, an allegiance of hybrids and federal officers. They were weapons breed for tactic and war. Special agent Y/L/N came back marked a failure after your secret last mission. Politics involved, you were to be assigned a Hound officer. What happens when the monster, Cerberus, gets assigned to you?

Word: 11.6K

Rating: Mature; Explicit themes, mentions of guns, PTSD episode, possessive behavior, gunshot wounds, cruel behavior, torture, abuse, bullying, crude and discriminatory language. If I’ve missed any tags let me know.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I’ve been working on this for a few weeks and I hope you enjoy it. Originally a oneshot, now a twoshot. Lightly edited, please be kind.

| Masterlist | Final

Lowering your hand from your brow you waited until you were signaled to ease. The hardened expression of the Director followed from the crumpled document on his desk to you, he gestured silently for you to sit. Carefully maneuvering your left arm as you sat down in one of the leather seats in front of his oversized desk. The mahogany desk was in a state of semi-cluttered, several stacks of papers yet the items closets to you were impeccable. His gold plaque with his name proudly written was polished as it gleamed.

Politics, the size was compensating for something.

The dark pigment under his baggy eyes shadowed deeper as his neutral expression wavered as he held your gaze. You were glad he couldn't hear your heartbeat, but it was near deafening in your ears. He folded his hands on top of his desk, cinching the shoulders of his black suit that was normally starched beyond movement. The amount of medals on the left breast had him wiggling his left arm in adjustment until he settled. The sheer amount of medals he's collected since his service to his time as the Director of the FBI was quite obnoxious.

You sat perched near the edge of your seat, you already had an idea of what was going to happen. As soon as you got off the plane you were escorted to headquarters, duffle bag still packed. In the steady voice, "Agent Y/L/N reporting back from Victiz. Sir, you requested my audience?"

He reached into his desk, medals clanking, and pulled out a thick manilla folder at least a hundred pages thick. Papers slid out of it as he let gravity take over and slammed it onto his desk. You didn't dare break eye contact with him focusing on the tip of his bulbous nose. The silence was eerie as he flipped it open, he pulled out a thick packet and placed it facing you. Quickly glancing down you read the title then back up, it was your report you had submitted.

"Y/L/N in your recent mission to Victiz, we've," clearing his throat, "come to realize that you require assistance."

Domestics was your playing field, but upon special request, you answered the call to duty, even if it lied overseas. You'd always say yes to the Director—at least, you used to. Loyalty ran deep in your veins as it was empathy, and pretense to serve him. Without him you wouldn't be here today, but…three months, three months had your eyes wavering in darkness.

You took in a deep breath; one you've been holding in for the last three months. You sharply gritted your teeth before you calmed yourself on the discrete exhale. You knew why he had called you and it wasn't because of your "lack of ability". It was his lack of ability to save his ass. Three months, you spent three months amongst a revolution to come home and be told you required assistance. You swallowed your pride in front of your commander. "Sir, I had no choice."

He arched a brow, "No choice?" He tilted his head in condescendence, "There is no excuse for weakness or mistakes Agent Y/L/N. Our country depends on you. I depend on you. We can't afford that type of mistake again—the world may be splitting because you couldn't prevent it. Do you understand Agent?"

Correction, his mistake. This was all diversion from the real problem. You became a special agent going through hell, fighting and outcompeting the rest to prove you were worthy. Seeing the other agents assigned a Hound used to put a smirk on your face. The Director even smirking alongside you as he praised you. With the vendetta you worked hard for five years to get where you are now, to earn his praise, assigned top-secret missions by the Director, without the help of a hound. You raised from the soil, trudged through the mud to stand where you are now—on your own.

Quickly your loyalty was turning to sludge and embolic. You fought to keep yourself empathetic and loyal. He was like a father after all to you. The eyes that once looked at you with pride and adoration turned to hate and bitterness.

You gritted your teeth, "Yes, Sir."

Adjusting himself to sit upright by smoothing out the lapels of his coat, "Every elite agent has a H.O.U.N.D and you are the last without one. The government specially created and trained these…monsters, so things like that won't happen. They never miss a target."

You were aware of them; you had seen agents with their own as the government began initiating the integration two years ago. H.O.U.N.D, pronounced hound, was Hybrid Operation in United Negotiation of Defense. A specialized unit of canine hybrids that were bred for war, ruthless in the way they fought like their animal counterpart. Although they were human in resemblance except for the dog tail and ears. You didn't know much about them besides the occasion you saw other agents with their officer in passing. However, you heard tales of limbs being snapped by jaws, their extended fangs, and their bloodthirst. Rumor or not, you wouldn't question their ability—they are hell hounds as they were breed for.

"Agent, you were shot and held captive." He chuckled but it held no humor, it was condescending. "It was supposed to be easy for you, yet here you are injured. I never thought you'd disappoint me so greatly Y/L/N."

You bit the inside of your cheek taming your tongue behind your teeth. Your mind flashes back to three months ago when you sat down in the same office in the dead of night. There was a state of emergency in Victiz, the country was in an uproar over the tyranny as the public demanded a democracy. Your countries ambassador in Victiz was kidnapped by an extremist guerilla group trying to reestablish tyranny. The Victiz government did not want to be involved in the recovery of your representative.

The Director was right, it was supposed to be a simple rescue. You've run through drills of disarming and recovery a million times.

It was supposed to be.

Sneaking in through a slip in the wall you stuck to the wall as you navigated the warehouse. You hid behind crates as you glanced around the corner. The target was sitting alone in a foldable chair. A single overhead light that illuminated the isles intervalley shadowed his silhouette as he was hunched forward. Assessing your position you quietly loaded your hand with a knife. The sound of footsteps filled your ears. The world paused as you listened in catching a glance around, still in the shadows. Emerging from the shadows the footsteps took on a presence of a tall silhouette to a masked male figure.

You watched as the man raised a gun and pointed it directly at the target. "It'll all be over soon." He flicked his index over the pull trigger.

Switching your blade for your gun you stood up and sidestepped out. Pointing your gun at the captor, "Freeze!"

The man cocked a thick brow then pointed the gun at you. "Oh, we have visitors?"

The man chuckled, nudging the barrel against the ambassador's shoulder. "Your people here to rescue you. Looks like they just sent one, you must not be as important as you say you are."

The ambassador stood up from his chair and your heart skipped a beat as he stood up with a smirk and tucked his hands in his pockets. The pit of your stomach fell and rose to your throat with revolting ad nauseam. Your skin rolled in waves of goosebumps. Immediately you began calculating things in your mind as the man with the gun took a step forward towards you the ambassador stopped him with a raised hand. The ambassador took the gun from the man and pointed it directly at you. "The war begins tonight. Long live the tyrant."

He punctuated each last word, then he pulled the trigger.

Blinking away the memory, you looked up to your commander. "Director, I don—."

He cut you off with a hand held in the air. "Agent, I understand, but we are implementing the change whether you like it or not. You're getting a hound. He will be directly working alongside you and you are to take responsibility for him."

You tried once again, "Director—."

"A hybrid life is disposable but yours isn't Agent."

Fumes tickled in your stomach, yet, you sat with your tongue still; venomous words sitting at the tip of it for him. You—you still were loyal. You knew he was being harsh because of how all this had made him look. How this blunder in the ambassador's double nature had made him look incompetent, the FBI incompetent—and it rested all on your shoulders. Over the pain, blacking out for the most of it, you remember mostly darkness, the itchy blindfold, yet the patriotism you held tightly behind your clenched teeth stayed there.

You were loyal and always will be.

By implementing a hound, it would boost the false security that the forces were incomparable and fearful as whispered about in foreign lands. It was all politics. You were the punching bag while he shined with the glory of strengthening the nation in a time where the rest of the world is grasping for glory. He was making sure agents are strong and safe. In the shadow of glory, you were powerless and under his command to obey.

A soldier's duty to obey.

You were loyal and always would be.

He fished through the folder as he spoke, his voice taking on a harsh tone. "If you had one it wouldn't have happened Agent. I really trusted and believed in you, but I now know your skills. Certainly, it will never compare to a hound's. Don't ever forget you are representing me when you're out on the field." He snorted smugly under his breath, "Maybe you need a whole team of hounds."

You felt his words cutting deep, the bullet shards in your arm somehow burying deeper. His words hurt. This is where you open your mouth. "Director, I do not need a hound. I'm capable of handling myself."

He cleared his throat and sighed, "I'm not changing my mind Y/L/N."

Flipping through the folder again and pulled out a paper putting it over your report. Standing up from his desk he straightened out his jacket and rounded his desk. Glancing down at the application form a picture in the left corner showcases a picture of a man—no, a hybrid, a hound. The hybrid's face was handsome at first glance, but you didn't get to look more than that.

"This is H.O.U.N.D Officer Park, rottweiler, and top of his class. A real monster with a count. Got the impact of a truck when he strikes, and a good shot with a 364 score. The H.O.U.N.D has never seen anything like him. A true beast of a machine."

You read off the same stats that the general was giving to you. His list of awards and achievements trailed off to the second page you didn't bother to turn to. He was good, no he was great, but still…you didn't want the hound.

The Director cleared his throat and in a booming voice, "Officer Park, enter."

You heard the doorknob clink as it twists and heavily boots thumped rhythmically on the wooden floor. You twist around in your seat and came to face the rottweiler. His tall, lean figure filled out his pressed clothes. His white shirt was taunt as it alluded to the idea of the refined muscles underneath; silver tags hung from his neck and clanked softly as he marched until he paused a few feet from you. His black cargo pants that were tight around his thighs were tucked neatly into his polished, black combat boots that gleamed as he snapped his heels together to stand at attention as he saluted.

You finally took in his face, his features were handsome, silky dark hair carefully parted and pushed back, and full lips. Black, floppy ears equally as polished blended in with his dark hair. All hounds you had met so far had a more rugged appearance, scared and tattered from the action, yet he had none. You don't know why but that unsettled you. When your gaze finally reached his eyes you found the familiar rugged tension as they were boring forward and technical in tension. His gaze peeled from the Director's to yours as he finally lowered his salute.

The General stepped forth patting him on the shoulder, "Y/L/N I want to introduce you to Officer Park. He's under your care now."

You meet his eyes, the dark brown orbs, carefully analyze you as you are sure you portray the same tone. You held his eyes as you stood up, and soon it was clear he towered over you. You felt the need to state your presence. You took his extended hand and the callouses and thick fingers nearly engulfed your hand.

"Do you have your belongings Officer Park?"

He pulled his hand back and folded them behind his back lacing with his other, "Yes, Sir."

The Director turned to you and smiled, "Goodbye, Agent Y/L/N."

Your mouth was left clenched as you politely gestured and began walking out of the door assuming he would follow you. You heard the heavy boots trail after you as the door shut behind him.

This…this wasn't how you expected things to go.

Pushing open the front door with a bit of a huff, stepping inside you flicked on the light switch. When the Director said he would be under your care you didn't think literally. You thought he'd be at his barracks and he would just be present during work hours. You had realized quickly that he was meant literally under your care, under your household, you were in charge…of his care. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him walking tight-lipped from the driveway with his duffle bag. He walked as if he was marching, legs stiff and hair barely bouncing. His gaze was the most daunting, sharp and cold. Shaking the thought you shifted topics mentally. You couldn't be afraid of him. He was your hound. You'd have to go back tomorrow probably to collect the rest of his stuff.

You hooked your keys on the key rack. Stepping inside holding the door open for him you hurriedly defend your home. "I haven't been home in a few months, so I'm sorry for the dust and the mess."

He nodded in a curt motion. You toed off your shoes and placed them on their rack. He stood politely not too far from you awaiting direction. You weren't sure how this was going to work. You had a guest room, but it was mostly unused office space. With the door closed, it was quiet, you could only hear your awkward breathing. The tension in the atmosphere was heavy as you didn't know really what to do next. You rounded him nearly flattening yourself against the wall avoiding touching him as he nearly took up the whole entryway. "Uhm, will you…will you give me a minute? Just make yourself at home." You sped off before you had a chance to see his reaction.

Quickly you dropped your stuff off in your room and stood there for a moment. Your bed was made just like you left it, your robe was still draped over the bench at the end of your bed. Everything was as it seemed, but it didn't feel—nothing felt normal. You rubbed over your left arm and the soreness responded. Yes, this was real. You…you had a hound. Retreating you crossed the hall to the guest bedroom. You flicked on the lights and the room was nearly bare, furnished from your college budget. There was a full bed only a plain white sheet over it to protect the mattress. The end table, desk, and dresser were all covered in a fine layer of dust. The walls were bare, but the rest of your house was similar. Ever since you've moved in you've spent more time at headquarters or on missions. This was more of a hotel than a home.

You pulled the sheet off and speed across the hall and tossed it in the washing machine, then you dug into the cupboard. Do you even have any other sheets that are full size? Your bed is a king. Maybe you should just use the sheet you put in the wash. No, what if he wanted to rest? Finding another white sheet, you hopped to pull it off the top of the stack. You hissed as you reached up straining your injury as it burned to remind you of its existence.

A hand was placed gently on your back preventing you from tipping backward. Gasping under your breath you turned your head as he reached for the sheet you were attempting to grab. He was nearly pressed up against you, but the notion dissolved before you had time to register it happened. He held it out to you as you thanked him. Quietly he followed you to the room. Again you unfolded it but haphazardly flapped it about as your arm throbbed. Cautiously and silently he took it from you seeing you struggle again. He began making the bed.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you could handle it. You really could. You nodded rubbing your hand over your forearm. It felt odd. All of this was so sudden. Heading back to the cupboard you were able to pull the extra comforter out. It was a fluffy, white down nearly engulfing you as it was meant for your bed. You went into your room and took a pillow off your bed. You stood at the door as he tucked in the last corner of the bed and he stood at attention heels pressed. You carefully set the pillow and comforter on top of the bed and began unfolding it. Easily he helped as he finished the last few tugs.

You stood there staring at the down, as he awaited you. You were used to being in charge, you fell into the role of leadership easily, but this, this was a different kind of responsibility. Something caught your eye for a split second, you were sure you caught his tail wagging behind him before it stilled just as fast. "There is a bathroom right next door for you to use. The kitchen is free for you to use and eat anything you like."

He nodded.

It was an odd pause as you waited for him to fill the silence, say something, but he was a statue.

Pursing your lips you spoke, "Officer Park, I don't know the first thing about hybrids or hounds. If you're uncomfortable here, we can always get you your place, eventually, I'm sure you will want to anyways. For the time being, let's," you held your hand out to him, "get along."

His expression tightened if possible. He looked from your hand to your face and stepped forward taking your outstretched hand in a curt shake. You pulled the hand clutching it and nodded, "That's settled then." Slowly you began backing out. "I'll let you get settled in. Good night."

He nodded standing there still as you backed out and went into your room. Closing the door behind you you slumped against your door.

How did you end up here?

You rotated your shoulder dispelling the tension from sleeping. As you rounded the corner into your living room you paused in your steps as you made eye contact with Park. Yes. It took you a moment to remember. You were in charge of another being. He was sitting on the couch fully dressed, as he was wearing the same clothing he was yesterday. Your mind was still awakening from the haze of sleep. Didn't he bring a duffle bag with him? How long had he been awake? You squinted at the clock on the wall as it read out 7:30 am. You were still in your sweats and long sleeve pajamas. You felt underdressed in your own home. Slightly nodding towards him as a form of greeting he returned the gesture stiffly. You moved to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge and it was stark clean. It was as if you had just purchased it. You searched the cupboards and it was the same, except for a single random can of beans.

You came back out and stood at the entrance of the kitchen. "Officer Park."

He stood up hearing his name and hovered by the edge of the couch.

"I don't have any food here. I'm going to call for delivery," you paused suddenly remembering, "later, we can pick up the rest of your things from the barracks while we are out."

"I have everything I own with me, Miss."

Hearing his voice was jarring as the only time you remember hearing it was yesterday when you first met. His voice was softer and melodic in comparison to his exterior. For a rottweiler, his ears were more Doberman like as they were perked. Belatedly you then realize they were docked, probably for safety purposes.

Everything? You refrained shifting your expression, the last thing he needed was pity. You carefully prodded. "Park, is that your only change of clothes?"

He nodded confidently. "Yes, Miss."

His only pair of clothing? You anticipated that he'd have more at least a personal blanket, a trinket, something. The Director's words echoed in your ear from last night. "Hybrid's lives are disposable, yours isn't."

Anger fills you as you process it all. You'd expect the government to treat them well, yet they treated them like they were--disposable. Rubbing your left arm, you paused soaking in your thoughts at the small realization. If he only had one pair of clothes, exactly how was he living before?

He sensed your unease. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. Did his lack of items upset you? He didn't know how he could correct his error.

Licking your lips, you moved forward to head back down towards the hallway. "Let me get dressed I'll be right back."

He nodded and stood there with the same blank expression. Seeing the lack of response, you smartened up and turned on the T.V and handed him the remote. "Watch something while I'm gone, I shouldn't be too long. Food will be here soon."

He analyzed the control as if it was something alien. You slipped behind the wall over the hallway. Making a motion you pointed behind you, "I'll be back."

He stared up from his standing position, his knee jerked until he straightened it to place. "Yes, Miss."

------

You spent longer in the shower than you had anticipated. The warmth of the water was soothing, and you felt the painful kinks leave you. Before you got in the shower you called the café and placed an order. After your shower, you dressed for the day. The doorbell rang as you were toweling off your hair. You grabbed your wallet and headed towards the door. As you rounded towards the door, Park was crouching and hoovering by the front door. Before you could move further Park growled viciously, and it sent a chill down your spine. "Miss, stay back! Intruder."

You quirked a brow before you understood what was going on. You couldn't help but laugh under your breath before you smothered it. "Park, step down."

He tensed, hesitant on obeying your command. You repeated yourself, but it was followed by a breathy chuckle. He couldn't understand why you laughed; this was serious. An unfamiliar person was on the other side of the door! He had to protect!

You pushed past his blockade, but he was hot on your trail, body tense and ready the second something goes wrong. You opened the door a scrawny teen held a large plastic bag. His voice cracked as he held out the receipt, "Whoa, dude, ugh—de-delivery for Y/n."

You smiled ignoring his other commentary. "That's me." You gave him the money and a tip as you exchanged the bag from the kid. You waved ensuring he got back to his car safely as the teen practically ran back to his car. Shrugging you turning around in to get a face full of a hardened chest that was flexing as he heaved with each rumble. Your eyes widened as you jumped back nearly tripping. His fangs were out and you realized they started high up in his gums. His ears were perked forward and eyes were darkened as he looked feral. You finally realized why the teen's hand was trembling, the stuttering, and practically running back to his car. His being sent another chill down your spine when he looked down at you, but you gulped it back. You couldn't be afraid of your officer.

Putting on a smile you reassured him, "It's okay, it's just the delivery guy."

As you closed the door his neck was nearly stretched, veins protruding in his neck as he watched the beat-up Honda Civic drive off before you shut the door.

He encroached the door and stared out the small window. Yes, just moments ago you were spooked, but then it hit you. He was kind of silly, he was acting like a real guard dog. Especially when his shoulders slightly jumped as you could tell he was building up a bark that left in quiet huffs. You couldn't help biting your lip to suppress the laugh again. For someone who looked like a mafia boss, he was being fussy about a delivery boy. You did a double-take as you realized there was a small nub that was slightly wagging within his pants. He had a tail? You tilted your head watching it wag before you realized you were staring at his butt. Which was plump, but that wasn't the point! How could you stare! You quickly looked away and began your trek to the living room.

Cooling down the flush that had begun to creep up your neck, you called him, "Park, he's gone, it's okay." You crouched down as you set the bag of food on the coffee table. Fishing out the trays you went into the kitchen to grab some drinks. Looking over your shoulder Park still stood frozen in the entryway halfway between leaning to you and glancing out the window. This time you couldn't contain your laughter, yup, he was kind of silly. "Come on, eat."

His brows raised at the tinkling sound of your laugh. His ears twitched at the soft sound, it almost quelled him completely as the sound danced around in his chest. He…liked that sound. However, he wasn't one to forget his role. Glancing back at the door once, he carefully walked over to you robotically. Standing there you pointed to the couch, "Sit." As soon as the words left your mouth you realized that sounded like a command for an actual dog you changed your wording. "Please take a seat. I don't know what you like, so I just got you the same thing that I get. It's good I promise." It struck you, you spun in your spot, "Do you have any food allergies?"

His eyes were wide as saucers, "No, Miss."

Sighing in relief you handed him a tray that he took graciously with two hands. "Bon appetit."

You sat comfortably on the floor and opened your tray revealing the savory breakfast bagel sandwich. This was one of the first things you had wanted ever since you came back. Bringing it to your mouth you were in heaven as you took the first bite, savoring all the breakfast essentials.

Park was staring at you the whole time, watching the way you casually ate.

You turned to him and realized he still hadn't opened his food. Your smile fell, "What's wrong, is it not what you like?"

His ears perked up, eyes wide as he shook his head, "No, It's alright, Miss." He slid down onto the floor next to you. You watched as he finally popped open as you took a bite of your sandwich. The tip of his pink tongue peeked out as he picked up the sandwich. He looked at you, then he took a small bite before he paused as if he was paralyzed. The flavors danced on his tongue and it was near euphoria. He had never tasted something so flavorful and delicious. The only thing he had ever been fed back in the labs was supplemental meals in pellets or slop that was just an off shade of brown.

You watched his expression carefully, afraid he would hate it, but who could hate breakfast sandwiches? Suddenly his eyes gleamed as the edges creased in an eye smile. He ravenously began devouring the sandwich in large bites noisily. His hands were empty within seconds except for crumbs as he sucked on his thumbs getting all the savory oil. His tail was wagging fast as his pants made soft rustling sounds. You couldn't help it, a giggle spilled as you watched his reaction. A hot blush covered his cheeks as he stared at you with a finger in his mouth. The sound again that was like a call to something internal within him beckoned him to look at you. That sound…he couldn't understand why you were laughing. Nothing funny had happened.

He looked gentile for the first time since his arrival as his eyes sparkled wide. You wondered how he could do that go from looking so terrifying to so gentle you couldn't believe he'd hurt a fly.

You had the great idea of getting extra; you took the empty tray and replaced it with the empty tray. He shook his head trying to place it back, "No, I'm fine Miss."

You placed it back in his lap, "Please, I got more than enough. Eat."

You turned back to your meal and the TV finally paying attention to what was on. He looked back and forth between you and the tray, squirming in his seat. He wanted to eat, but it was too much. His stomach believed otherwise, but he would be fine if he ignored it like he usually did. It was more than he's ever been offered. Were you testing him? Yet, you weren't turning around. Your body language wasn't tense. Carefully he popped the tray open, he gazed at you, waiting for a reaction, but you kept chewing. He picked up the sandwich and began eating, a little faster than necessary in case you changed your mind at any point. He'd deal with the consequences later. Eating so fast he began choking as he swallowed nearly the whole sandwich down.

Rapidly you poured him a glass of water and handed him the glass, "Here drink this!"

He took it and drank the whole glass, sighing in relief as he cleared his throat. When he finally was all right he couldn't look you in the eye, embarrassed with himself. He waited for his punishment, tensing his body for the hit.

You smiled, realizing his tray was empty again. You looked at the tray and realized he was clenching his fist until they were turning white. A sadness overcame you that had him whining as he scented the shift in you. You reached into the bag and pulled out yet another sandwich. You gently replaced the empty one with another, his fist still tight. Softly you assured him, "You don't have to eat so fast; no one is going to steal your food. I won't ever keep food from you."

Although it felt odd to say it, you wanted to assure him. You wanted him to be comfortable. This was going to be your life from now on. Park was going to always be a part of your life whether you liked it or not. He was your hound.

He was your hound.

On a sigh, you spoke words you never thought you'd be saying. "This is your home too." You brushed your still slightly wet hair from your face when he remained stoic, face recessing back into a neutral blank.

As you rustled your hair your sweet scent filled the air. He realized how sweet it was as you rustled back as it filtered the air erasing the small sadness that was there before. It was intoxicating as he waited for it to be ruined by a foul scent that usually accompanied lying. Yet, it stayed sweet, it had been since he had met you.

You licked your lips and nodded assuming that was the end of the conversation. If there was one thing you learned through your training as an agent is patience. He'd speak when he'd want to. You knew space and you'd want the same. Just as this has been a lot for you, you can only imagine how stressful this must have been for him. Maybe you needed the silence to answer more than you could want words from him.

He stared at the cardboard top of the tray. He rubbed his thumbs over the paper feeling the small ridges. This was real. He blinked as he couldn't place the feeling. He had never felt something like this before. It made him squint his eyes, it bothered him he couldn't understand the feeling.

"Okay, Miss."

You were surprised at the sound of his voice that came almost too quiet. You offered him a smile to let him know you heard him. He stared at you with eyes that were swirling with emotions as his ears swiveled slightly. Clearing your throat, there was a lot you had to learn. Oddly, you settled into a comfortable relaxation. You forgot about your arm. You forgot about why Park was being sprung into your life. The failure, the politics, it all.

A halo of light glows around you as he found himself staring at you. He reached up and rubbed over his chest, that odd feeling had been swirling around for a while now. It was probably the need to protect you. Protect…his…home now. This…was…his—his thoughts were cut off by the sound of your laughter again as you laughed at something on T.V. He followed your line of sight and to your face as your face scrunched up as you lingered in whatever was funny.

He clutched the tray in his hands. Yes, that must be what he's feeling. It must be that. He will protect you.

You somehow fell asleep somewhere between the episodes of some sitcom you didn't know the name of played. You woke up on the couch and Park was still sitting on the floor watching whatever was on TV. Lightly blushing, he must've placed you on the couch. Not dwelling on that fact, you wiped the sleep out of your eye as you looked at the clock and it was just a bit past noon.

You sat up straight and Park turned around to look at you hearing the rustling.

You joked, "Hello." He nodded his head.

"Sorry for falling asleep." He shook his head to disagree.

The coffee table had been cleaned. You thanked him for it and his tail wagged again before he tempered it. Getting up and stretching you winced and hissed when you realize you had been sleeping on your left arm.

He stood up immediately, "Miss are you okay?"

You waved it off, "I must've slept funny, that's all." Rotating your arm, you released the tension in your shoulder, but it was sore still as you lowered it.

He didn't believe you. He noticed you were awkward with your left arm as you always were caressing and cradling it. Before he could comment you moved past him. You sighed internally realizing that you needed to head to the store for groceries. You couldn't keep ordering take out. In the kitchen, you dug in your junk drawer and got out a notebook and began writing a list. Knocking the pen against your chin you tried to think of anything you're missing after jotting down the basics. You went back to the living room, sitting down on the floor again and letting the notepad rest on the coffee table. "Park, what do you need at the store?"

He shook his head.

You quirked a brow, "Please, tell me what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

He hung his head low, in a whisper you barely caught onto, "There's hybrid soap that's unscented. That's it."

You raised a brow, "That's it?"

He nodded.

"Okay." You ripped the page out and stuffed the list into your purse. Slipping on your shoes, "I'll be right back. I'll just be a bit."

He stood up immediately alarmed. "I will go with you. I need to stay with you."

You raised a brow, crossing your arms across your chest, "It's just shopping. I can handle myself." He was poking at a sore spot. You could handle yourself. You can handle yourself. He stood chest puffed in full seriousness. The same assurance he had before with the delivery boy returned.

"I'm okay on my own."

"I will go."

Realizing you were arguing with the wall you swallowed your pride. This. This was something you were going to have to learn to deal with. You were going to learn how to be a "team" and work with another. Chanting to yourself, you reminded yourself this was a learning process. "Fine, come on."

Quickly he slipped his boots on and you unhooked your keys and closed the door behind him.

Putting the car into park it struck you. The whole car ride he had been quiet, the soft hum of music playing from the radio had filled the silence. Before getting out of the car you turned to him, "Hey, are you okay going around shopping?"

He turned to you, "Yes, Miss."

You cringed internally at the formality he had been calling you Miss this whole time. But you respected it, it would probably feel more awkward using first names.

It felt stupid but you felt the need to remind him, "Please don't growl at anyone, unless they're a real threat okay?" You wanted to let him know, "If it ever is too much, let me know. We can leave at any point."

He nodded, lips slightly pouting, and you both got out of the car.

Stepping into the store you carefully side-eyed Park and his eyes were telling a different story as he was searching nearly everyone for threat. You decided to let him do whatever made him comfortable, even if it was glaring at everyone. You pulled out a shopping cart and picked up everything off your list including some things that weren't. More things weren't on your list than were, but who were you to deny your love for the good stuff. You watched Park if he took an interest in anything, but he was natural and bleak about it all.

You stopped in the hybrid section. Scattered through the store there had been a few, but truly you noticed other hybrids with their owners in this section. There were all types of rabbits, feline or canine hybrids. Before yesterday you never really noticed them, it all was normalcy, now with Park, you felt more aware. When you passed them with Park you noticed them freeze and divert their eyes from him. The rabbit hybrid nearly tugged its owner out of the aisle. You felt bad for them, but you both had the right to be there just as much as everyone else. Some other canines dared to stare at him before they were yanked away. Okay, maybe Park wasn't the one you should be worried about. He hovered over you, shoulders back and chest puffed. You called to Park, distracting him momentarily from staring down others. "Choose whatever you need."

The selection was near bare, except for the essentials. He glanced back frequently as he selected his soap. You watched other owners with heir hybrids, they were selecting more than just bar soap. When he came back with a bar that was in a basic box you smiled at him, wanting to be sure to always encourage this behavior of making his own choice. "Are you sure?" He nodded and he immediately reverted to his guard stance. You asked him to place it in the cart and then you walked over to where the other hybrids and their owners just were and began picking the scarcest products off the shelf. It must mean they're good and popular.

"Miss?"

"Yes?" You placed a bottle down as the side was dented and picked up one in better condition.

He looked between you and the products. "What are you doing, Miss?"

You glanced at him, "Do you like," you popped open the lid of the shampoo refreshed by the clean scent, "this one?"

He took it from you and placed it back on the shelf. "I'm fine."

You picked up the shampoo back and placed it in the cart and carried on. He sighed and followed along as you kept picking up things like a brush, fur shine conditioner, vitamin tablets, a loofah, and a toothbrush. He had remained quiet the whole time and as rounded the corner there was a very small selection of basic clothing. You recalled back to his confession earlier and the idea saddens you at your ignorance. It struck you that last night he must've slept in the same clothes he was in now. You held up sweats and a shirt up to him he stiffened as your hands were nearly touching him. You hummed when you were content with the sizing before you picked up more and placed them in the cart. Pointing to underwear and socks, "You can pick those yourself." He fidgeted on the spot as if he was glued. You decided to pinch a little, "Or do you want me to pick them?" He unglued himself from his spot and he tossed in a package of each reluctantly. You smiled at him at your small victory. This would have to do, for now, you'd order things online later.

He still stood protectively over you, but at some point, you had ignored the feeling of his hovering. You could feel how uncomfortable he was. Your hand itched to reach out and settle him, but you weren't sure how comfortable he would be with that either.

"You can have things to Park." You turned to him, with a softness that had him relaxing, "I'm happy to get it for you. I want to do this for you."

His tail wagged as you began carting away.

Opening up your mailbox you pulled out the mail then shoved open the door with bags and mail in your hand. Waddling to the kitchen with the bags you set them down as Park came just behind you with his arms full of the remaining bags. The top of his head barely peeking above the bags. Your eyes widened as you helped him place the rest of the bags down. You could handle heavyweight, but you didn't want to accelerate joint pain and destroy the recovery you've made so far. He seemed completely unaffected though.

He stood patiently again as you turned to him, realizing he was awaiting a command. You cleared your throat as you grabbed bags. You found the bags holding his products. You handed them off to him. He hesitated as he nearly set the bags down, "Let me help. Tell me what to do."

You waved him away, "It's alright, I got it. Why don't you take a shower? I'm sure you feel gross after a long day. Do you need help figuring that out?"

Again, he found himself conflicted. He couldn't sense the duplicity in your tone. He waited for you to yell at him. Waited for you to shout commands, punish him for being useless, something, yet you stood up and stared at him with eyes that nearly smiled on their own. He was stunned at the way you looked at him. Gently you picked up his bags and handed it to him, "You can put your stuff away and the clothing you got on now put them in the wash. You remember from yesterday right? You can pick out just an outfit then the rest can go in the wash."

You shooed him off when he stood there dumbfounded. Taking your statement as final he picked up his bags and disappeared around the corner.

You sighed a bit in relief, an ache left in its wake. You hadn't realized how tense you were all day. Taking care of someone else was exhausting. The way he was looking at you was confusing. It was like he was expecting something, but you weren't sure what. Instead of dwelling on the what-ifs, you sorted all the groceries. It was odd seeing your home full of food. You never had this much food before. You always made instant food when it was just yourself. You folded all the plastic bags into one and placed them in a bin by the front door. Coming back you glanced around the kitchen, then picked up the mail.

You shifted through it as the majority of it was junk mail with a few exceptions of bills. Stuffing it into the wall rack for your mail you were cautious to separate the bills from junk.

Your phone begins vibrating in your pocket. You read the caller ID, 000, and your face hardened. You answered and a distorted voice spoke, "Report tomorrow at 0700 for a new assignment." There was a click and the call was over. Sighing heavily you tossed your phone on the counter uncaring if it cracked the screen. You leaned on the counter, elbowed supporting your head as you run your fingers through your hair. You clutched your head, breathing through your nose.

He came out of the corner, his hair slightly dripping wet as he toweled off his ears. His face scrunched up in disgust, it smelled sour. It was from you, clutching the towel he rounded the corner as you were standing back up. Your face was slightly flushed, and your eyes held this look of exhaustion. The smile had disappeared from you. He dropped his towel as he marched over to you, "Miss, is everything alright? Did I do something wrong? I knew I should've helped you. I'm—."

Your eyes widen in surprise as he nearly rushed you. Realizing your position you laughed it off, and quiet his resolve, although your voice isn't as strong as you wish it could've been. "No, I'm fine, It's fine." He didn't believe you as he carefully looked over your face.

You realized his hair was dripping. You picked up the towel from the floor and tiptoed slightly as you rustled the towel over his hair. "Don't walk around with wet hair, it's cold out. You can't be catching a cold." You were careful of his ears.

He froze on the spot.

When you pulled away, your smile had returned. He was staring directly at you, nearly inches apart, eyes wide. Your heart skipped a beat. You took in his jawline, tawny skin that was slowly turning rosy and his pupils dilating. Realizing your position and what you had done you dropping the towel and it draped over him like a ghost. He whined as you laughed going towards the fridge. You try to cover your embarrassment by acting normal, "Dry your hair with the dryer next time." You opened up the fridge, "Let's eat."

One ear popping out he pulled the towel back he stepped forward, "Let me help Miss." His cheeks were rosy, and you sure yours was too.

Surrendering to his eagerness your cave, "Okay."

Surprisingly Park was a great cook. You gave him simple instructions to cut vegetables and they were sliced and diced neatly. You thanked him as you slid them off into the pan. The house filled with the smell of stir fry and just in time the rice cooker jingled as you turned off the burner.

"Can you get some plates, please? It's in the left cabinet."

He nodded and set two plates beside you. With your good hand, you scooped food onto the plates. When they were filled, he took them to the table without propagation. You fished inside the fridge for some cold water and the drawers for utensils and brought that to the table with you.

Looking at the table with steaming plates Jimin stood by the table waiting for you. You set the water down and utensils and sat down. Your eyes glowed as you stared at the food. You picked up your fork and began poking at your food and shoved it in your mouth. You're a few bites in before you realized he was sitting across the table food untouched. He picked up his fork and began eating after you had taken your first bites.

You wanted to know more, you wanted to understand why. The report the Director gave was bare-bones, but you could inquire enough. You had been on a mission before countless times, analyzed war criminals, and more, but this felt out of reach. If you were going to keep Park then you wanted to know more. There was no better way of getting information than just asking. You swallowed your food then asked, "Park, may I ask you something?"

His body tensed slightly as he swallowed and answered formally, "Yes, Miss."

While shopping today you did your shallow research as you watched those with hybrids of their own. All hybrids had something around their necks, collars, like chokers around their neck. You casually inquired, "Do hybrids wear…collars?"

"It's a sign of identification and ownership."

You quirked your brow, "Do you have one."

He pulled out from his shirt dog tags on a silver ball chain. You nodded at it and kept poking at your food. The biggest question sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't ask it. Instead, you choose to look him over. "Do you like your new clothes? Do they fit right?"

He nodded rapidly, "Yes, Miss."

They looked comfortable as they fit him a bit oversized, but it would give him wiggle room.

He finished his meal and stood from the table taking it to the sink. You followed shortly after with your dish. He fidgeted on the spot before he thanked you for the meal. Shutting off the water and drying your hands on the towel rack you leaned against the counter.

"Park."

He paused and robotically turned and stood at attention at the entrance of the kitchen. You looked down then back up at him, "New assignment—for us, meeting tomorrow at headquarters. Be up early."

His posture stiffens. As his hands began clutching at his sweatpants. He nodded then rounded about the corner slipping into his room.

You flicked off the kitchen light as you signed, why did that feel so heavy? You massaged your arm as you walked to your room. That night you laid in bed doing a bit of research on hybrid things. You browsed for a few hours shopping for things that others recommended. You bought clothes varying from dark in color to light unsure of where his palate was. You guess the size going for the larger size for safety and it possibly shrinking in the dryer. You'd rather him be comfortable than enclosed in his clothes. Checking out you bought a list full of things, but you don't spend your paycheck on yourself, so you placed it in your cart without a second thought. He deserved it.

You shut your laptop and thought about the hound sleeping in the next room over. Was he sleeping alright? You heavily sigh allowing your body to sink into your bed. You were going to have a long day tomorrow and you needed your sleep. Closing your eyes you had a million thoughts going, but the main one was of the hound in the room over.

You just had to hold out for tomorrow.

"Your next mission agent is to be the personal guard the governor on his trip to the capitol from the airport. He will be arriving from the capital after receiving an acknowledgment from the president and we expect a lot of eyes to be on him."

Your blood boiled internally. This was a job meant for a mid-rank agent, not you. Yet, you tried to sound eager, "Yes, Sir."

He smiled, it felt so greasy. "Your mission starts in three months upon his arrival."

"Understood, Sir."

He looked towards Jimin who stood at the edge of the room at attention. The Director smiled, "Park, is Y/l/n treating you well?"

"I'm content Sir."

The Director looked at you, "I knew this was a great idea. You are much better off with him."

He stood up and you followed along clenching your jaw. "Thank you, Sir."

As you were walking away. "Agent Y/L/N."

You turned on your heel completely facing him. "No more mistakes."

Your face was hard set, yet pleasant enough. Park noticed your fist clenching as you crossed them behind your back.

"Understood Sir."

Park followed along silently. He could smell the change in your scent—it was ruining the sweetness. You stood in front of the elevators and pressed the down button. Park waited behind you, standing tall. He had no idea why you were uncomfortable. He found the Director behavior odd. What had he meant by making a mistake?

When the elevator opened you stepped in and immediately into the floor panel you punched in the code 45730 harder than necessary. For a second the elevator stalled, then it began dropping down. The elevator went beyond the parking garage basement as it continued to drop. Jimin's eyes watched, internally reading himself for anything.

Without saying anything you stepped out of the elevator he followed you to an internal door. You scanned your ID before you stamped your finger to go inside. Jimin scanned his dog tags and was allowed inside behind you.

As the door whorled open with an electrical buzzer sounding off, a sudden bang introduced you both to the gym. Flashes of light caught his attention as he looked into glass rooms. The rooms each were unique and technical as digital screens were projected in the air with stats while within the room holographic simulations of hostile scenarios played as agents trained. You kept marching like you were running to a fire. He only caught glimpses of the intense training going on, monitoring their movements in those split seconds. The arena opened up and agents were firing off in succession as they shot down the range. Seeing rows of stations, he realized you had brought him to a gun range.

You rotated your left shoulder. You stepped up to a station and placed your hand on top of the glass desk. The monitor glowed blue as a digital screen popped up. "Put your hand on the glass Park." He followed along, and the desk expanded into a dual station. His information appeared on the screen alongside yours. Selection of weapons appeared next, "Pick what you want to use."

He went through and selected a handgun like yourself. The proper wear appeared on the right wall of the station. The guns were simultaneously present from the walls.

After having the debriefing, you found yourself feeling wound up. You wanted to prove yourself again, prove you were good enough. The drudging task he gave you, protecting the newly elected governor, was for the rookies. Grabbing it you inspected it thoroughly. You shook out your left hand. The guns weren't typical, although they recoil, sound and weighed as much as a real one, they weren't.

You didn't meet eyes with Park as you spoke, "I'm sure you've done this before."

He had. Too many times to count. He had spent a lot of time in ranges, less modern than this. He remembers when he was a young pup and he stood at the other end of the rage facing the abysmal barrel. Officers commanded the older hounds with real guns. It was a miss and survive. A test for all.

He was brought to the present when the holographic screen began changing as infographics and widgets displayed difficulty levels, strategy, and intensity. Selecting a random high-performance program you reached over and pressed the approval for his side of the dual station to fully expand to accommodate you both. His eyes followed the station walls as they moved and widened a few feet. Your eye twitched as you brought your arms up finger away from the trigger as you tightened your hips.

"Ready yourself, Park."

Selecting random the widget flipped through until it stopped on the hostage situation. A short debriefing appeared on the screen, entailing the scenario. Your shoulders tightened, a thing you learned to never due, and the motion caused you to wince as you felt the muscle tug around your injury. You were fine. You were fine.

Situation: A bank robbery and the civilians inside and employees are being held, hostage. Save the hostages.

As soon as the countdown began on the screen from three, two, one, the bank doors opened, and fake comrades joined you both as you enter. Five criminals circulate the main lobby as they surround hostages piled in the middle. The simulation was interactive, and it expected you to act accordingly. Slipping into your roll you commanded, "Drop the weapons and get down!"

Park held his position as his gun was raised defensively mirroring your stance.

The criminals laughed simulated jargon of them arguing and they refused to place down their weapons. You repeated your commands and they still refused. You scanned the room again, analyzing the exits, windows, and corners, there weren't many options, but the desk offered refuge. Counting the seven hostages surrounded by the five criminals, the odds of getting the robbers away were slim. But the margin of possibility was where you thrived.

"Park, on my mark."

Just like you had predicted the robber facing you reacted hotly by grabbing a hostage and holding a gun to their temple. "I'll do it! I'll do it!"

You continued, "Release the hostage, no one has to get hurt. Put down your weapons!" You slightly nodded but Park had caught it as the mark.

The robber's hand trembled with anger before he threw the hostage and began unleashed rounds at you. Screams and sounds of chaos erupted. The other criminals began targeting the other commanders. Your eyes worked a million miles an hour as you dodged bullets moving forward behind the wall. Park was opposite of you, finding a shield in the opposing wall.

When the sound of gunshots paused you took the chance and shot at the criminals.

"Park, right!"

He let a few rounds out, both successful as they land their targets. The hostages scream and run towards you but disappeared as they simulate running past you.

A robber appeared next to you as you fired at their extremities. Death is never the goal, inebriation is. Assassination isn't a solution. The bank begins shifting into the warehouse as you panted, breathing faster and faster. Seeing the lone chair and a man with a gun pointed at you took form. A slow smirk built on their face as their finger shifted to be over the trigger and they pulled. You had been so lost in thought you forget what was going on. Suddenly you were pushed back as he stood in front of you. His side of the screen flashed red. He had been shot, kill shot to the chest

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped. "PARK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, "Protecting you."

You gazed at him, shock filtered, again those words ring clear in your ears: hounds are disposable. Bile built in your throat. If this was real, he would've been dead. You failed Park. You…failed, again.

Panic filled your heart creeping like an icy cold grip and your hand began to tremble. Your face was stone cold, but inside a storm was brewing.

Boisterous laughter filtered through and broke you from your beginning hysteria. They snorted at the end of their sinister laughter, bringing their hand up to cover their mouth. You pulled your trembling hand behind you as you turned and Jimin looked over your shoulder.

Eyeing you up and down and then Park a snarky smirk plastered on her lips as they stride closer to you both. "Ah, Y/L/N, you finally got one." Her eyes stared at Park for a moment longer than necessary. Subtly you shifted yourself in front of him. "I see the Director finally recognized that you weren't perfect." Her lips pulled higher. Agent Smith had been in the federation longer than you have. Her father was from the same fraternity as the Deputy Director. She let everyone know proudly where she came from and how she knew people in high places. Instantly you were rivals after she opened her mouth. However, during training, she was one of your main motives for climbing the ladder. You were better than some rich girl with connections. Proudly you climbed to your position on your own, no family, no friends, just you.

It's always been that way anyway.

Finding yourself on steady grounds, pushing nausea aside, you smirked back sweetly. Setting your gun down, "I'm glad your back safe Smith. Your last mission was watching that rich girl from Montenegro, right? How was it playing a shopping assistant?"

Her smirk didn't deter. "Assistant? Please. At least I didn't fail. Daddy told me all about how the Director said you were a failure. You couldn't handle a simple rescue mission. Makes me concerned for the rest of us."

She cut deep and quick. Park next to you listened to it all, quickly glancing at you. He hadn't heard of this. He wasn't told why he was now your hound. He could feel you change though. It was unsettling him.

Quick on your feet, "The only concern you should have is if Daddy is going to buy you another spot on a mission. How much did your Daddy pay for your last mission?" It was petty. This was petty, out of character. Today wasn't your day.

Her face blistered with anger. "You bitch! I wish they left you in Victiz to die in that cell."

Park growled, a rolling growl. Her eyes widened in surprise like yours. Park's eyes were jet black, he appeared like a feral beast encroaching over you with his presence. His fangs were exposed as his lips pulled back. He made no motion forward, but Smith knew if she moved offensively, he would act. Realizing she was out of her reach, Smith flinched as she corrected herself rolling her eyes pretending it didn't bother her. You hadn't realized her hound was behind her. Stomping away she picked a station leaving you standing there with Park.

You hadn't realized her hound had been with her as he stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Cerberus." The name came shakily out of the hound, their doe eyes staring, body frozen. "Yo-you're alive." The word came out as a whisper. The hound didn't get say more as Smith snapped calling the hounds attention. Without another word, the hound booked it, tail between his legs.

Park watched the hound with careful eyes. Your mind was elsewhere, desperately swallowing anger. You turned back to the monitor as it blared out "Mission Failed." You were too embarrassed to look at him. You were ashamed of yourself. You had never acted that way. You never let her get under your skin. The last comment stung like a slap across your face. Who was this person you've become? You shut it down quickly, setting all things back appropriately.

"We're leaving." You commanded stiffly.

He watched you for a few moments as you held your left arm as you walked away. Setting his gear down he began after you.

The house was dark, yet you didn't bother flicking on the lights as you took off your shoes in the entryway. The quiet ride home had let your though mull over. You were so disappointed with yourself. Words from the director, Smith, you could handle hers, but…Park, when he took the bullet for you—it was all too much. You were fatigued, your arm was ebbing in pain. "I'm going to sleep." Without further explanation, you rounded the corner and went into your room.

He stood there in the entryway, the darkness feeling suffocating as you walked away. He couldn't understand why you were so upset. He couldn't understand why you screamed at him when he took the bullet for you. Why was that woman yelling at you, he couldn't control it when she said you should die in that cell. He was going to protect you. You would never die as long as he was around. Where did he go wrong? If his ears could flatten, they would. If his tail could hide between his legs, it would be. He messed up, again.

He found his feet moving before he was aware of it. He wanted to reach out. His feet were moving fast until he felt a surging pain followed by a crunch on the hardwood floor. Retracting back he realized it was your ID. Picking it up he stared at it, the person in the ID looked so cold, so frigid, similar to how you looked now. It made his insides itch uncomfortably, it felt wrong. That you felt wrong.

Clutching it in his fist he walked through the darkness, eyes adjusted for it, and he stood in front of your door. He could hear your soft breathes, but your heart was beating fast. The tainted scent that was normally sweet was nearly rolling from under your door like smoke. He clutched your ID in his hand tight enough that the edge of the plastic badge dug into his skin.

Soft knocks rapped at your door. It took you a moment before you answered. Park was standing at the door staring at you directly. It felt like time had slowed before his fist unclenched and he held out your ID. You took it from him staring down at it. All your energy had been sapped from you and in barely a whisper, "Thank you."

His tongue poked through his thick lips as he opened his mouth but he clamped it shut quickly. He began turning on his heel heading back to his room.

"Park." Guilt ate at you.

He paused and turned robotically.

Clenching your ID. "I don't want you to ever take a bullet for me." His eyebrows perked. "You are not disposable, especially not because of me." You knew he had heard everything Smith had said. "I'm sorry you're in this mess. I'm sorry you're tied to me. Again, let me know if you want to leave, I'd understand."

You closed the door unaware of the sullen look on his face. The mask breaking for a crescent fallen expression. He moved at the speed of light catching the door before you closed it. The fire in his eyes raged like rumbling lava. He pulled it open fully as you stood there shocked. His posture was strong as the muscles bulged from underneath his shirt.

"Do you want me to leave?" Your mouth fell agape, caught off guard. Vulnerability bled through his words, yet it still sounded scripted, like a duty. But a part of you wanted to believe it wasn't just his duty. It was too quiet and panic began to fill Park's chest replacing the itch. "Please, don't make me leave. Please…I don't want to –I'm going to protect you until the end I promise, please, don't make me leave."

Your heart broke as you fought back tears. The harshness of his words hit you, especially as he punctuated the last three words. Although you had only been with him shortly, you didn't hate him. You had forgotten, selfishly belatedly realized how your behavior had a profound effect on him.

"Stay." You cleared your throat and spoke clearly, "You can stay."

It was silent between you both. He was trembling. His hands felt itchy again, that odd feeling he had of wanting to reach out instead he reverted to comfort. He resumed attention stance, "Yes, Miss."

"Y/n. Call me y/n. Don't call me Miss anymore."

His pupils dilated hearing your name for the first time. He had never called anyone by their first name before. He felt almost like he was committing treason, but he tested it anyway. "Y/n."

You smiled and nodded. That smile, that smile was now making his stomach itch again.

He fidgeted in his place, muttering, "Jimin…my name is Jimin."

The man, who often looked like he could crush iron with his fist, and gaze destroy a city with a blink, he looked like a puppy in front of you. You smiled. Without even realizing what you were doing you reached up and ruffled his hair.

His eyes were so wide. You pulled your hand back and retreated with a blush on your face after you realized what you had done. Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Quickly you sputtered out, "Sorry. Good night Jimin."

He wished you hadn't stopped. His tail was wagging a million miles per hour.

"Good night Y/n."

| Masterlist | Final

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

Superior Specimen - Chapter 5

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering,

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Please note this chapter has not been beta’d/spellchecked.

Chapter 5

Henry had helped you at every step; from opening the car door for you to helping you up the stairs and into your flat. When you’d told him that the doctors had instructed you not to be alone overnight, he smiled at you kindly and said he wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving you alone after a hospital visit. He’d grabbed his gym bag out of the back seat of his car and had somehow managed to juggle that, your bag, having one arm around your waist up the stairs, and opened the door all with ease.

He’d run you a bath and with surprisingly delicate dexterity had carefully stripped you before helping you into the scented waters, no sexual touches, instead it had been about making sure you were ok.

You sat in the water for a moment in complete silence before drawing your knees up to your chest and you started to cry, the tension of the afternoon finally seeping out of you. You felt a large hand gently rub your back, and as you wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands you looked at Henry, the concern showing on his face;

“Will you get in with me?”

He nodded and stood, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and toeing off his shoes, before removing his khaki’s then balling his socks. Everything was folded and placed in a neat pile and his hands rested on the elastic of his underwear;

“Do you want me to keep these on?”

You shook your head;

“I’ll keep my eyes closed” and screwed them shut, the sound of his low chuckle resonating around the room.

“I don’t mind if you do look”

Opening your eyes just a crack you were greeted with the sight of Henry in his full glory striding towards the bath, and you weren’t given time to process how perfect his body was;

“Scoot up, i’ll get in behind you”

As Henry stepped in the water rose dramatically, his legs stretching out either side of you before he gently grasped your shoulders and eased you back until you were laying on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder so he could press tender kisses to yours. His voice was quiet as he spoke;

“I saw what happened today”

“You did?”

“I had gone up to the offices on the 4th floor and had been looking out of the window over the lawns… i’d seen the guy running then you following, saw you take him down and everything unfold… by the time I managed to get downstairs you’d been taken away”

He took a deep breath;

“I was so fucking worried… i could see you had blood all over you, i had no idea what had happened and by the time i got outside all the coppers would say was that the guy had been armed with a knife. I had no clue where you’d been taken… god that copper that messaged me, i was ready to go within seconds…”

You turned in his arms, carefully moving until you were laying on your side, your hand resting on his large pectorials;

“I’m sorry i scared you”

He pressed a kiss to your lips;

“Never apologise for bravery. What you did was amazing”

You settled into Henry’s arms feeling safe and comforted, his hands slowly moving over your body, massaging aching muscles and washing away the last trace of the days stresses.

The rest of your night involved ordering pizza, which you had to stifle yawns as you made your way through your third slice. When Henry suggested you called it a night you looked at him pointedly;

“Will you join me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I just want to sleep in your arms tonight”

You woke up to the mattress dipping, and as you returned to consciousness you reached your arm out only to find the bed empty, just a warm spot where Henry must have only just gotten up. You reached for your phone to check the time, groaning when you saw it was time for you to get up for work… that was until you saw in your notifications an email from your boss, telling you that you were not to come in for a week. Your mind was still fuzzy with sleep still leaving and your brain coming into consciousness, so with a smile on your face you lay back against the pillows, before you heard your shower running and an idea entered your head.

Seconds later you were quietly sneaking into the bathroom, seeing Henry through the opaque class of the shower enclosure. Gently opening the door you snuck in and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, pressing kisses to his back. He hummed out an appreciative grunt before you pulled back and looked at his ass;

“You have the most perfect ass i’ve ever seen on a man”

“Just wait until you see the front…”

He turned as you gazed into his eyes, sparkling with mischief before he kissed you, deep and passionate, his tongue dancing against your own. The water from the shower poured over your bodies, and you pulled away gently pushing Henry against the tiled wall, looking down and quirking one eyebrow as you saw his dick hanging heavy between his thighs. Without a word you got to your knees, keeping eye contact with him the entire time as you rested your hands on his thighs, gently running your fingernails down the thick muscles before your hands wrapped around his meaty girth which was rapidly hardening. You leant forwards, tightening your hand around him before lapping gently at his tip and the groan that left his mouth was sinful. You could feel him getting harder, growing beneath your touch, and with the help of the water flowing down his body you started to pump him slowly, teasing him to full tumescence.

You tightened your other hand around him before opening your mouth and started to suck on his tip, easing a centimeter in at a time so your mouth could gradually stretch around him, your lips pulled tight as they circled the huge muscle whilst your tongue worked against the strong vein that ran along the underside. Soon he was panting, his breaths coming out in short puffs as he watched you take him deeper than he was expecting you to be able to on your first attempt;

“Fuck… Princess, you have the body of an angel and the mouth of a whore… so fucking good, you gonna take a bit more for me, huh?”

You were struggling as it was and you barely had two inches in your mouth, his girth stretching your lips so tight yet it got wider the further down the shaft. You watched as Henry went to place a hand on your head and then remembered you wound from the previous day, instead bracing himself against the walls of the shower enclosure. You knew you wouldn’t physically be able to take much more of his length in your mouth, so you moved one hand to his massive ballsack, cupping the heavy globes in your hand as your other hand worked the rest of his shaft, stroking and twisting as your fist met your lips. He threw his head back and let out a string of curses;

“Oh my fucking god, that’s so good… tug on my balls… fuck yes, your tongue…”

You swirled your tongue over smooth swollen head and you felt his legs tremble, and with a smile you did it again, the groan coming from his mouth followed by a long string of ‘fuck’s. You alternated between sucking his tip and tonguing the sensitive skin, moving your hand along his shaft until your thumb was pressing against is frenulum, rubbing his precum against the sensitive sinew, you tongue lapping at his slit as it now leaked a continual bead of clear fluid. He started to tremble and you pushed him deep into your mouth - as deep as you could take him - and he let out a strangled cry at the feeling of your hot mouth around him and you felt that tell-tale tremble in the thick vein on his underside. Moving your hands you pumped him hard, feeling his hot cum fill your mouth, tart on your tongue as he unloaded rope after rope of his creamy seed until it was spilling from the corners of your mouth.

You swallowed what you could before pulling away, making your pumps of your fist gentler as the last few spurts covered your chest and breasts. Henry caught your hand in his, stopping you before helping you to your feet. He looked like sin; flushed cheeks and chest, his eyes blissfully relaxed as he dragged a finger through his cum on your chest, scooping a little onto the tip before offering it to you, watching as you sucked his finger into your mouth before letting it out with an audible pop. The second his finger was out of your mouth his was kissing you, tongue and teeth, he has no issue with tasting himself on your tongue.

When he pulled away you chased after his lips, letting out a whine at the loss of his tongue and he chuckled;

“We keep this up and you’ll be late for work”

You nuzzled at his neck and smiled;

“I’ve been given a week off, had an email from my Manager this morning, so…”

“So... “ Henry grinned and pressed you against the cool tiles, his mouth moving to your neck as he laved his tongue over the soft skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke; “... i still haven’t brought you dinner…”

“Ow…” you whined like a brat; “but i need you…”

“How about we just see what this pussy can take first?”

He slid a hand down your stomach and you instinctively parted your legs, sighing as you felt his fingers delve into your soaked folds and sought out your clit before delving further and he ran the wide tip of his finger over your entrance, teasing out some of your wetness only to return to your clit and rub firm figure eights against the sensitive bud. Once you were trembling at his tough he slid that finger back to your entrance and slowly pushed inside, making you mewl with pleasure at just one finger;

“Henry…please...”

“Yes Princess?”

“More…”

With a chuckle he slid a second finger in and you almost saw stars. You’d not really taken in just how big his hands were, how long and thick his fingers were, but as he scissored two slowly inside you, you were almost ready to cum. He shifted slightly, bending down enough to take one of your nipples into his mouth, covering the entire thing as his tongue worked over the teat and massaged the areola. At the same time he curled his fingers inside you, stroking at that spot high up that had your legs going weak and made you cling to his arms to stay upright;

“Oh fuck… Henry, i want you to fuck me, please…” you whined, only to be met with a low chuckle;

“You think you’re ready for me? Think i can squeeze in this tight little pussy?”

“Please…”

“Well if you think two fingers is enough to stretch you you’re in for a shock, now relax Princess, i’m gonna need to slide a third in, and only then will we see if you can take my cock”

His mouth moved to your neck again as he twisted his hand and slowly started to squeeze a third finger in, and you whimpered at the stretch and burn of being so stuffed full. His thumb lightly grazed against your clit and rubbed the lightest of circles against it, all whilst gently pulsing his fingers inside your silken channel. Your knees almost buckled from the sheer pleasure of feeling so full, and you knew that he would be barely in halfway compared to his dick. His lips found yours again and he claimed you with a hungry kiss, his free hand finding your chest, cupping one breast before pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His thumb worked harder and he crooked his fingers inside you, the trigger to send you over the edge and you were screaming out your orgasm as you trembled in his grasp.

Resting his forehead against yours he carefully pulled his fingers from your body, your breath coming out in short pants as your heart raced. You watched as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, before leaning back and grabbing the showerhead and carefully washing your body clean.

Finally he shut the water off and helped you climb out, wrapping a towel around you before starting to towel himself off;

“So what will you be doing with your newly found freedom this week then?”

“I might take myself shopping” you mused; “Or perhaps to a yoga class… gonna have to do some stretches ready for Friday night” you winked at him.

He stood close and pulled you into his arms, his hands running over the skin of your back as you stood naked before him;

“That sounds fun” he laughed; “But also take it easy”

Chapter 6 >>>

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #henry cavill au

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fuwafuwagem · 3 years

Text

Client file: CHISAKI, Kai

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Chisaki Kai | Overhaul & Reader Additional Tags: Amputee Overhaul, Tartarus, don't ask me what readers job is, they are a PROFESSIONAL!

Session 2 here!

Your supervisor had advised you to be wary of the villain as you headed out, and you’d simply rolled your eyes. Being vigilant around villains was part of the job. You’d almost asked if he really had so little faith in your skills but had instead opted for silence. No point in picking senseless fights. It was less a moment of being undermined after all, and more a request to be particularly cautious.

Overhaul had been a very dangerous man.

You’d thoroughly looked over the file on Kai Chisaki on your way to Tartarus. It was quite an extensive read. From his takeover of the Shie Hassaikai, his grotesque abuse and experimentation of an unconsenting minor, his drug distribution network, and countless deaths at his hand, Chisaki had no doubt been a true villain.

The operative word being had.

The situation had changed significantly somehow between Chisaki’s battle with the heroes and his eventual arrest, and that change was the reason you were now at Tartarus.

Various security protocols were initiated throughout your long walk to his cell. You silently endured each, as you had many times before. The officer led you through the halls of the maximum-security prison until your destination was reached and simply advised you to call for him when you were done.

Kai Chisaki sat opposite you behind a glass screen. His shoulders were slouched forward, and he only offered you the briefest eye contact as you took a seat at the small desk you’d been provided with, laying out your file and the notes you’d taken on your client.

“Mr Chisaki. It’s good to finally meet you,” you said politely. “I’ve read all about you, so it’s good to finally be able to see you in person.”

Chisaki shifted slightly in his seat but did not make any response. You’d seen him in photographs. As the young head of the Shie Hassaikai, he had always looked to be a proud man, but he had lost that pride along with many other things; some were more obvious losses than others.

“I’m sure you’ve been told why I’m here,” you continued, unphased by his apparent disinterest. “I’m here to assess you. Basically, I believe you are eligible to be moved to a lower-security facility. Somewhere like that would allow you more freedom.”

Chisaki’s head still hung low, but his eyes rolled up to meet yours. “Why?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Why would Chisaki be eligible, after all the heinous things he had done, to the luxuries of any place other than Tartarus?

“Because you are no longer considered dangerous.”

Chisaki’s head finally lifted and his glaring eyes narrowed.

“Because–” you began, but you were swiftly interrupted.

“Because I lost my quirk along with my arms?” he hissed, raising the stumps so that you could get a good view of the damage that had been done to him. “I was, for all intents and purposes, neutered.”

You didn’t flinch at the venom in his tone. “That’s right,” you said simply, again with a polite smile and inclination of your head. “I believe that you would be much better suited in a different sort of correctional facility.” You arranged the papers in front of you and continued. “Depending on how these sessions go, I will be able to recommend your transfer. A transfer would mean you’d be given a custodial sentence and a chance at rehabilitation. How do you feel about that, Mr Chisaki?”

You heard a harsh snort of air expel from Chisaki’s nose, and his expression darkened. He didn’t speak though, and you took that as a signal that he was willing to listen. What you really wanted, however, was communication.

“I want to begin my assessment by discussing the events which brought you here.” You wet your lips with your tongue. The file had been an unpleasant read, even to a professional like you. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, keeping your client’s best interests at heart. You didn’t really mind if he died in Tartarus, but your job needed you to remain a neutral party, and so you would do your best by him. “You’ve experienced a great deal of loss. Both your arms and your quirk were forcibly taken from you in quick succession. That would be a traumatising experience for most people. Have you been receiving therapy?”

Chisaki grimaced, then sighed. “They tried. I wasn’t interested.”

Your brow furrowed slightly at his confession. There was no doubt that Chisaki had gone through acute trauma. When the police had initially found him, he had been in a severe state of shock, his body trembling violently. You wondered where he found the strength to come back from something like that.

“The loss of your quirk must have been quite a shock to you, but it’s that very loss that has opened up this opportunity. If you are transferred to a lower security prison, you may also be entitled to receive prosthetic limbs.”

That announcement seemed to stoke some fire in Chisaki. “Prosthetics?”

You nodded. “They’ll be simple. Nothing that can have the potential to be modified into a weapon, but it will mean you have some means to hold items; cutlery, books, that sort of thing. Prosthetics aren’t permitted while you’re incarcerated here in Tartarus, so there is a silver lining if you’re open to viewing it as one.”

Chisaki’s back straightened as he rolled back his shoulders, finally choosing to face you more directly. “What exactly do you want from me?” he asked.

You smiled. “Just a conversation. Some of it might be painful to talk about, but I want to understand you more so I can make my assessment. I truly believe that Tartarus is not somewhere you belong, but I need you to confirm it for me.”

Chisaki sucked in a long breath before his lips parted again. “Fine.”

You glanced at the file in front of you. There was something that needed to be addressed; more than his quirk, more than his run-in with the League of Villains, more than his cruelty and manipulation. “Let’s begin with your relationship with the leader of the Shie Hassaikai.”

You saw Chisaki’s body grow tense. “Pops …” he whispered, and as the word quietly rolled from his lips, the pain in his eyes deepened.

“Mhm, that’s right. He was a father figure to you, right?” you asked, though the answer was already clear from what you had read about Chisaki.

He nodded. “He took me in, raised me, tried to teach me his values.” His mouth curled down at the corners. “He wanted the yakuza to have honour, not to become like villains. But the yakuza have sunk so low. People used to respect us, but we became nothing but lapdogs for those more powerful than us. Quirks threw everything into chaos.” His gaze hardened as the creases in his brow deepened. “The world stopped progressing. The advancements of science and technology came to a standstill, and even now, everything revolves around quirks. People’s futures, their careers, are practically decided the moment their quirk manifests. Quirks have made our society sick, and that sickness continues to spread.” He stopped and drew in air through his clenched teeth. “Pops wanted to protect the yakuza name, but he wouldn’t make the sacrifices needed to restore us to our true glory.”

You lifted your chin and met his frigid gaze. “But you would, and you did. Starting with your takeover of the Shie Hassaikai.”

The stumps of his arms moved as if he had tried to cross his arms defensively. You almost felt sorry for him as his mouth warped into a thin line of a man frustrated with himself.

“If I’d known …” he began, but his voice caught in his throat.

“The doctors haven’t been able to do anything for him,” you said, a sympathetic tone leaking into your words. “He’s currently in a hospice, but there’s no hope that he’ll recover. He’s being kept comfortable, though, if that is reassuring at all.”

“I planned to restore him once I’d achieved my goals,” Chisaki said. “He wouldn’t let me do what needed to be done. I would have fixed him once the cure began to spread. It would have only been a matter of time. He would have returned to being the head of the Shie Hassaikai in a world where the yakuza were once again revered.” The golden gleam of his eyes shimmered slightly, damp with unshed tears. “I wanted him to be proud. I wanted to show him how grateful I was for everything he’d done for me. But now …” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. “Now my quirk is gone, and I can never bring him back. I wanted to thank him, but I killed him. I killed him, and I have to live with that.” His head drooped once again. “I wanted to give the world a cure. I was so close, but the sickness was too strong for even me.”

“Do you regret what you did?” you asked.

Chisaki stood, making you jump slightly, but you quickly settled. He was behind a thick wall of glass. He approached it, and pressed his forehead against the barrier, his eyes boring into yours, holding your gaze like a hostage.

“That is a pointless question. What good is regret? What’s done is done. Pops is in a hospice, I’m in this cell. No amount of regret will change that. We’re all right where our choices led us.” His eyelids dropped, releasing you from the hold of those glittering irises. “I failed. I’ve come to terms with that fact. This is the consequence of the actions I took. I won’t say I regret what I did, but I am … sorry. To those I hurt.”

You watched him as he returned to his seat. You didn’t feel like there was any deceit in his words. Only sorrow. His losses had changed him. He was a man who had suffered great pain, both physically and emotionally, and that pain had left scars; in some places, the wounds were still wide open and raw.

Kai Chisaki, who had once insisted on being called Overhaul, did not belong in Tartarus. Of that, you were becoming more certain.

“Thank you for your openness, Mr Chisaki.” You rose from your seat, motioning to the guard that you were ready to leave. “I will be returning. We are scheduled to have two more meetings, but I believe that we have made a positive start.”

Chisaki’s jaw stiffened, but he nodded. “I guess, thanks,” he muttered. “Not many people would be so willing to help me. It’s not like I have a lot of friends.”

“I’m just doing my job,” you insisted, but gave him a reassuring smile. “Until our next meeting, Mr Chisaki, take care.”

You were led away from Chisaki’s cell by the same guard who had led you in. The same security protocols were followed, as well as some additional ones, and it took you a full twenty minutes to get out of the prison. The air you breathed once you were outside was the freshest you felt you’d inhaled in your life. Tartarus was never a fun place to visit, but you’d still be back soon enough.

Chisaki would be waiting.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #overhaul #kai chisaki #mha overhaul #mha #bnha #reader

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spectraspecs-writes · 4 years

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Kashyyyk - Chapter 76

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 75. Chapter 77

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

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With the location marked on the map, we just have to get there and kill a kinrath on the way. Not too difficult, I can hear them around here. Jolee and I take point, while Bastila and Canderous are some way behind flirting with each other. “It does my old heart good to see some love being expressed.”

“Is that a comment on me?”

“If you want to take it that way, it is,” he says, “I was only pointing out that the Jedi tend to be very anti-love.”

“Yeah, Bastila’s been on my case about that before,” I say, “I tell you, no one’s more surprised about this development than she is.”

“Not you?”

“You kidding? I could see something between them the first time they met,” I tell him, “Bastila was trying to act all stoic and cautious and Canderous saw right through her. He’s been flirting with her the whole time, but Mandalorian flirting isn’t everyone’s cup of caff, you know?”

“Is it yours?”

“Me?” Weird question to ask. “Yeah, I guess, I’ve been with a few Mandalorians before, I’m just not particularly interested in Canderous. He’s twice my age, I don’t have a thing for you either.”

Jolee scoffs. “Well, that’s awfully nice of you,” he says sarcastically. He’s not into me, either, he hasn’t flirted at all. He’s not interested in me that way, and I don’t think he would be even if we were closer in age. Some people just aren’t romantically compatible.

“Jolee, can I ask you something?” I say.

“Bit late to be asking that, isn’t it?” he says teasingly.

I grin, but then back to my question. “You were in my head earlier, how did you do that?”

“How do you know you weren’t in my head?”

“Don’t start with that, I’ve already gone through it with Bastila,” I say seriously, “If she and I didn’t have some kriffing Force Bond, I’d be questioning it, too. But I’m positive, you were in my head. Not the other way around.”

He sort of ho-hums his head, like “okay, fair point.” “Sending and receiving thoughts is like blinking in terms of effort for experienced Jedi,” he says with a small shrug, “The hard part is making those thoughts coherent. Not hard for you, though, apparently.”

“It’s the Force Bond thing,” I say casually, “I’ve got practice with it. I don’t just initiate conversation without asking first, because my parents raised me to be polite, but hey.”

“What’s that about, anyway?” Jolee says curiously, “This… Force Bond between you and Bastila. Such things develop between master and apprentice often, but…”

“I’m as confused as you are,” I tell him honestly, “And the Jedi Council. They didn’t have any idea how it formed either, they think it’s a destiny thing.”

He hums neutrally. “I’d be willing to bet the Council knows more than they let on.”

Wait, what? “What do you mean by…?”

And suddenly he pulls out his lightsaber and throws it at a tree. I watch it fly up, and I watch it return to his hand. Then I hear a massive thud behind us and Bastila shrieks. “Got the kinrath,” he says. What an effect subject change! Canderous picks up the kinrath carcass and then picks up his conversation with Bastila just as easily, as if a body didn’t just fall out of a tree.

My head starts to feel fuzzy again. I inject another stimpack as we approach the clearing. I see a smooth stone in the middle of the opening to the clearing. Ancient symbols have been carved into the surface on the stone. I didn’t realize Shyriiwook had a written form, but I guess this must be it. The letters bear a resemblance to those of other languages. I’m sure linguists would balk at this sort of development, but I doubt any of them care too much about Shyriiwook. Even through the layers of moss and dirt on the stone from years of sitting undisturbed, I can still read the words, traced by generations of Wookiee claws: “The beast comes when summoned, if you are generous. It comes to battle, if you are worthy and wise. It grants you glory, if you are fearsome and brave. Feed the beast and it will heed your call. Take vipers from their lair and hang them from above. Let blood scent the ground of our ancestors.” I try not to rest my hands on the stone too much. I’m an outsider, and this is a Wookiee cultural site. I have not been invited. I am merely a guest.

A kshyy vine hangs down in the center of the clearing. It smells strongly of blood, and that blood is soaked into the ground. “Looks like the kinrath goes here,” I say. As Canaderous starts to suspend it, I see a skeletal corpse not far from it. I decide to check it out. Not much is left of it - the clothes are torn as creatures have taken bits for nests, some bones are missing. It’s still recognizably human, but all that’s left are the inorganics. A datapad, a modest circlet, and a… a lightsaber. Must be the Jedi Freyyr mentioned. I quickly take these pieces and load them into my pack. My curiosity has gotten the better of me, but from the rustling in the distance, I know now is not the time to investigate any further. I need to focus now. Great Beast.

The beast has four claws on each of its four limbs, and great tusks protruding from the corners of its mouth. Its flesh is smooth and scaly, and covered with spikes. It smells of death. Yeah, I’m scared. Jolee reaches out with the Force, trying to whip the beast up in a Force whirlwind, but nothing happens. Well, fuck.

Canderous, thinking quickly as the beast trudges towards us, fires his rifle right at its eyes. It takes him a couple rapid shots, but he manages to blind it. It stops and screeches in pain. The sound hurts my ears, it feels like agony. It doubles over briefly, and I can see a blade lodged in its flesh. Like, deeply lodged, the skin has grown around it. This isn’t going to be like pulling a splinter. I have to kill it and carve the blade out.

Whoa! The beach reaches out one of his massive arms and swats at us, knocking me and Bastila back - which I only realize after it all happens. It was so fast I couldn’t process it until after it happened. I catch it quickly enough to break my fall, and to cushion Bastila’s fall with a quick shot of the Force. Then I reach out to both Bastila and Jolee with the Force and send them, “Without eyes, this creature is going to be relying either on sound or smell to find us, anyone want to bet which?”

“Not particularly,” Jolee says, dripping in irony.

“Have you got a poison grenade?” Bastila asks, “Perhaps we can overwhelm its sense of smell.”

“Worth a shot.” I pull the small grenade off my belt and activate it before quickly throwing it at the beast. It hits the ground and explodes, sending a poisonous cloud into the air around the beast. But the beast doesn’t seem to get sick. Which tells me it’s got its own poison inside, and I’m willing to bet it’s in those claws. It swats the cloud away, and at least for a moment I think it’s confused.

Okay, next step is find the weak spot. Every predator I’ve ever seen so far has one. It’s really hard to get to for their typical prey. But I have no idea what this thing typically eats, so I guess we’ll have to try everything. “Go nuts, guys,” I announce, and the beast turns toward me and starts to charge for me. But before it can get to me I jump up to a branch above me. Jolee and Bastila dive out of the way. They start attacking with their lightsabers while Canderous fires at pretty much every part he can get a good shot at. All of them going for more or less the front of the creature. But I think Rothrrrawr may have been onto something without realizing it. This guy is apex predator size, big bad dude of the forest, what sort of prey would be going for his back? I don’t want to do anything that might damage the blade, so no plasma grenade. Odds are the blade is cortosis weave, it would have to be if Bacca made it from the hull of a starship, to handle the stresses of space. So my lightsaber wouldn’t hurt it. And neither would a frag grenade. But the only grenade left on my belt is a plasma grenade, so there goes that plan. Looks like it’s lightsaber or nothing. I pull the purple lightsaber off my belt and aim carefully - if I throw it right, I can lodge the lightsaber in its back, and the heat damage that could do could cook that thing from the inside out. “Try to keep it in the same place, guys,” I send to Bastila and Jolee, “I want to try something.”

“Well, do it fast!” Jolee urges.

Just have to time it right. Trust the Force, not my eyes. If my hunch is right about the back being a weak spot, this should work. I throw the lightsaber and use the Force to activate it mid-flight. Changes the physics of it a little but another push of the Force gets it back on track. The lightsaber lands blade down in the creature’s back. It rears back in pain, shrieking and hurting my ears again. Almost like they’re operating on the same wavelength, Jolee and Bastila both jab their lightsabers at the creature’s throat, cutting off the shriek and, based on the lack of movement, its life. They withdraw their lightsabers and get out of the way before the beast falls on them.

I drop down from my perch. I exhale heavily. “I’m glad that worked,” I say, and I pull my purple lightsaber out of the beast’s back. Now to get the blade out of there. “Take five, guys,” I say, “And next time we have to fight a giant beast, I’ll take point.” They’re not listening to me, they’ve already started to chill. Okay, that’s fine. “Canderous, have you got a knife?”

“Isn’t that basically what a lightsaber is?” he asks, already pulling out his knife for me. A simple enough thing, a tool, not a weapon. Which is just what I need.

“Do you cut food with a sword?”

He snickers a bit. “Well put.”

The hard part about getting the blade out is going to be all the spikes on the beast’s back. Whether they’re poisonous or not, they’re bound to hurt if I hit one of them. Even out in the Outer Rim as a scout I didn’t skin, well, anything really. My strengths tended to be more resource and terrain analysis. Sure, we all had input with the other members of our team - I worked with the linguists and anthropologists a lot - but I was never responsible for feeding the team. The most I’d do is track herds or figure out which species would be, ecologically speaking, okay if we ate one. I didn’t prepare meals, I didn’t do any of the killing for meals, I didn’t skin the animal to sell or use its hide, I didn’t do any of that. Which is probably for the best in the long run, because I got the impression it was delicate work and delicate is the last word anyone would use to describe me.

This, thankfully, is not a job that requires being delicate with the body of the animal. We’re not going to eat it, we’re not going to scavenge the body for goods to sell. It’s not our place, and it’s not ecologically sound. A predator this size is probably pretty high up on the trophic pyramid, so there likely aren’t a lot of them. It approached alone and had loud and low cries, so I’d wager it’s a solitary creature. From an ecosystem perspective, I would rather not have killed it. Ecosystems can be delicate, even when they’re as well cared for as the Wookiees try to do. Not that we had much choice in the matter this time.

In order to get the blade out, the first thing I do is carve out a chunk of the back around the blade. This line is jagged and the cut is uneven, but it’s enough to pull out the chunk around the blade, which isn’t very deep into the back. Canderous’s knife is sharp, which is useful because I have to cut through at least one bone. Once I pry the chunk out of the back, I’m basically sculpting, cutting chunks of flesh away trying to free the blade. Once I slice enough away, the rest just falls off. Part of me wants to clean the blade off, but I think Freyyr would appreciate it more if I leave the grime there.

We go back to Freyyr, and he asks if we have found the blade. He looks overjoyed to see it, reverently examining every inch of it. “It may not look like much,” he says, “but this is a very important relic of my people. Tradition dictates that it be respected.”

“I’ve done my best to do just that,” I tell him.

He smiles. I think - it’s hard to tell through all the fur. “I didn't think I was worthy to search for it,” he says, “but I realize that was selfish despair. I should have challenged Chuundar long ago. I will make amends now. I have new hope. You have led me to this… Perhaps that is what the Great Beast wanted.” Somehow I doubt that the Great Beast wanted anything but lunch, but what do I know? “I will climb to the surface as quickly as possible and try to gather support. You will have to follow on the paths as soon as you can, Rena. When you arrive, we will confront Chuundar in the throne room. My people will no longer be slaves.”

#knights of the old republic #star wars #fiction #kotor #autistic artist #kotor fic #specs writes stuff #rena visz #oc #fem!revan #ls!revan #jolee bindo #bastila shan #canderous ordo #bastila x canderous #canderous x bastila #kashyyyk #chapter 76

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runaway-horses · 5 years

Text

The Ache Is In Your Soul, Not Your Limbs

Word Count: 2,754

A/N: I wrote this instead of a lab report, and I wrote the last 1,000 ish words in the last two hours while drinking black coffee and watching Netflix. I hope y’all enjoy this! I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, angst, injury, mentions of wounds, passing out, pain, I think it’s OOC? But eh. Hurt/comfort. The sides have wings. Please let me know if I need to add/remove anything!

Tags: @a-cure-for-sentience, @pippippippin, (If I missed someone who asked to be tagged in future works of mine I’m sorry, I can’t remember who was on which taglist x.x)

///

Deceit sunk out, dropping the maniacal chuckle as soon as he could. His first time revealing himself to Thomas. It could’ve gone worse, he supposed, but it could have gone better. Of course impersonating Morality was the most difficult course of action; he believed in rigid laws of right and wrong and left no room for the grey area that Deceit usually operated in.

He stood in front of his mirror and studied his reflection.

He didn’t at all mind his physical appearance, but it was novel to be able to look at it. Keeping himself hidden from Thomas meant he existed as a Side without form, not much more than a conscious entity, lacking a physical presence. Or, as physical as one could be as a figment of someone’s personality. He supposed he would have to get used to this new body now.

///

Weeks later, Deceit sunk down into his room, immediately shrugging his cape off and tugging at his shirt. He needed it off, he needed it off, he needed it off-

The article of clothing fell to the floor, allowing the large feathered appendages folded against his back to release. They ached deeply, the muscles spasming from being folded roughly inside his clothes for so long.

Where the wings had come from, Deceit had no inkling of an idea. They had appeared in their fully feathered glory the day after he first revealed himself to Thomas. Deceit sighed and stretched them out as far as he could, trying to ease the ache. He hadn’t signed up for wings when he revealed himself to Thomas. Another unsettling part of him, he supposed.

First the scales, now this.

Deceit had no idea how to take care of wings, but there must be long-term repercussions for repeatedly folding them unnaturally. Did they need to be cleaned? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he sat down on his bed and let his wings splay out around him. They still hurt, but not as much as they had. He pulled out his notebook and, keeping one ear tuned in case Thomas encountered a difficult situation, started to write.

///

Deceit sunk out, his ears ringing.

They weren’t listening to him, Thomas, Patton, Logan, Virgil, no one wanted to hear what he had to say. He was used to it, it was fine, but he had never stayed out with them for so long and his wings were on fire.

He wrestled with his shirt, remembering belatedly that he could just snap it off.

His wings fell out of their position, and the sudden movement had him choking back a cry of agony.

He barely had time to stumble to his bed before the world faded to black.

///

Roman glided to the ground, using his wings to make a graceful landing. Things had been...less than stellar in the days after the video, but he found that a good flight was always good for creativity. The wind ruffling his feathers, the warmth in his face and back, the feeling of weightlessness as he soared high above everything in the Imagination - yeah. It was good.

The calm of the Imagination was shattered quickly, however, by Patton flying in, cardigan fluttering behind him like a cape (perhaps they could do a video with superhero personas? He’d have to write that down.)

“Something’s wrong.” Patton blurted as soon as he was in hearing distance.

“What?” Roman asked, his mind still working on the superhero idea. (He wanted a cape, ok?)

“Something’s wrong, I can feel it, I was in the kitchen baking some cookies when I felt something...flicker out. And I can’t figure out what it was! I already checked on Logan and Virgil, they’re fine, so I thought it might have been you -even though it didn’t feel like you- but you’re fine! And I don’t know what’s wrong!” Patton was breathing hard, his face red, and whether it was from the running or the intense emotions -both, in all likelihood- Roman couldn’t tell.

“Easy Padre, take a deep breath.” Roman reached out with his arms to pull Patton into a hug, wrapping his wings around him too. “Whatever it is, we can’t figure it out if you’re passed out. There you go, nice big breaths.”

Patton’s breathing settled to something more regular, and Roman pulled away, though he left his wings loosely surrounding him.

“Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

///

Patton didn’t know exactly what he was expecting Deceit’s room to look like (the Slytherin common room perhaps?), but this wasn’t it.

It looked...normal.

Well, normal except for the unconscious Side lying (ha!) draped over his bed.

Deceit...had wings. Big ones. Black with yellow feathers neatly outlining the edges. They were magnificent.

They were also in awful shape. The feathers were sticking out in every which direction, some twisted around each other, others bent under in what had to be awfully painful. There were raw, bald spots on the tops of the wing joints, right where a shirt would hit. Patton winced in sympathy.

He stepped past the pile of clothes on the floor and approached the bed. Deceit’s wings were twitching slightly and little spasms were visible. Whatever the deceitful Side had been doing, he had taken awful care of his wings. Patton gently ran his fingers through the downy feathers on the underside of a wing and made a face at how dirty they were.

With a sigh, Patton placed his hands on Deceit and sunk them out to the Commons. He’d need his whole family to help him sort out this mess.

///

Roman shrieked when Patton appeared on the floor of the living room, Deceit with him.

Patton was in Dad-Mode however, and did nothing more than wave Roman over.

“Go get Logan and Virgil, and grab some towels while you’re at it. His wings need to be groomed.”

Roman had so many questions -Deceit had wings? Since when?- but he knew better than to try to slow Pat down while he was in Dad-Mode. Instead he nodded once and quickly headed out to fetch the things that Patton asked him for.

Logan and Virgil had sunk down to Patton, no questions asked, and when Roman made it back to the three of them with a stack of towels, they were already spreading Deceit’s wings out. They were huge, easily spanning the distance between the couch and the wall, and -Roman admitted begrudgingly- they were beautiful. Or they would be once they were cleaned up.

“Oh good Roman, you’re here. Lay those out under his wings, I think it’s safe to say that he’s going to lose a fair amount of feathers.” Roman helped Patton spread them out, and then he settled himself next to Logan to start the tedious process of setting the feathers straight.

///

Deceit was pulled out of the pleasant darkness that he had sunk into by being jostled roughly, sharp points of pain awakening him fully. He twisted away with a screech -there were hands, hands on his wings, pulling at them, and he needed them off- but the hands didn’t relent, instead tightening their grip. He tried to pull his wings -his aching, sensitive, vulnerable, wings- away from them, but they wouldn’t cooperate. He only succeed in making them spasm again, and he took a deep breath against the pain.

Finally, his senses cleared enough that he could hear the voices murmuring to him.

“Shh, Deceit, stop moving. It’s ok, it’s just us. It’ll be ok.”

Patton. The voice was Patton’s, but it had the opposite effect of soothing. He just pulled harder, wondering why they had invaded his room, his private space. Hands were still tangled in the feathers of his wings, and he finally stopped pulling when he realized that they weren’t letting him go.

“Please,” He whispered, feeling awfully exposed. Hadn’t he suffered enough?

“Deceit, we’re not here to hurt you. We’re trying to help.”

If only that were true. Deceit was so very tired of being alone, of being ignored. His wings hurt, and so did his heart, and he just wanted it to stop.

“Ok,” He whispered, dropping his head onto the carpet. He didn’t believe them -why should he?- but he didn’t have the energy to sink out. They could do whatever they wanted as long as he could sleep through it.

“Oh, ok, good. Just relax, Deceit, it’s...it’s going to be ok.” Patton’s tone was surprised with a hint of something else, uncertainty? Fear? Distrust? Deceit shifted slightly and braced himself.

“Alright so, your wings are in quite the shape. We’re going to see if we can straighten out your feathers, and then we’ll go from there.”

That didn’t make sense.

“What? I don’t understand, aren’t you guys...I don’t know. Going to hurt me? How do you know how to groom wings? Aren’t you freaked out by them?”

The living room was silent (because that’s where he was, not his room as he had thought), until it was broken by Roman’s voice.

“Deceit, I know we have had our...differences in the past-” An understatement- “But we wouldn’t ever harm you.” Roman’s voice was hurt? As if this day wasn’t weird enough.

“And as for your wings, well. We all have them. So our knowledge is of a rather personal manner.” That was Logan, and his voice was calm, calculated as always.

Wait- what?

‘What?” God, maybe Deceit hit his head when he fell. Although he wasn’t quite sure his brain could come up with something as ridiculous as this. Wings? They all have them? “I’ve never seen them before.”

“Well I suppose that makes sense, we keep them invisible while with Thomas. We only have them out when we’re here, in his mind. You avoid the Common area, to the best of my knowledge.” Logan paused for a moment.

That was true. Deceit stayed to his room as a rule. Deceit let out another sigh, this one relieved, because at the very least he now knew that the others knew what they were doing concerning wings.

“Deceit, we’re going to start straightening out your feathers now. It’ll probably hurt, and I’m sorry about that, but it’s got to be done.” He nodded and resisted the urge to jerk away when his wings were spread out again. Slowly, the Light Sides started the long process of fixing his wings. Each feather was its own point of pain, and it felt like individual needles as they straightened each one that was out of place, many of them falling out as they went.

He didn’t notice he was crying, silent tears slipping out of his eyes, until the carpet had a slight damp spot pressing into the side of his face. Someone -Virgil, perhaps?- reached for a twisted primary to try to straighten it out. It hurt so much more than the others, and Deceit yanked his wing away on instinct, accidentally hitting the two sides on his left with it when he did so.

“I totally meant to do that.” The lie slipped out without him thinking about it, and he winced. “Sorry,” He added softly, trying to fold his wings up and roll away from the four sides. Patton placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

“Hold up there, easy. Don’t go anywhere. We can take a break, but your wings are only going to get worse if we leave them like this.”

Deceit sat up so he could look the others in their eyes. He shifted uncomfortably when he remembered that he was shirtless and tried to subtly wrap his arms around himself.

“Oh,” Patton whispered softly, leaning forward to gently wipe at Deceit’s cheeks, where the evidence of tears was fresh. “You could’ve asked us to stop Deceit, we told you it would hurt but you weren’t supposed to be suffering.” Deceit shook his head and dropped his gaze. He felt weird, emotional and tired, not at all like his usual snarky self. Patton looked past him and said, “Logan? Will you go get us some first aid supplies? We need to wrap those raw spots.”

“I’ll go with him,” Virgil mumbled. Deceit heard them depart, eyes still trained on the floor, and Patton addressed Roman next, asking him to go make them some tea. Deceit was about to ask why they didn’t just summon those things, but he bit his tongue. Patton sat down in front of him, criss-cross-applesauce, and smiled gently at him.

“I’m sorry, Deceit. We didn’t do this right, at all.”

Deceit shrugged. “Why’d you come looking for me?”

“I knew something was wrong, I could feel it. Something flickered out in the Mindscape, and when I realized it was you I was worried that you had been hurt, or ducked out.”

Deceit decided against saying what he was thinking, Wouldn’t you all be thrilled if I left?

“Deceit...how long have you had wings?’

A pause.

“Since I first revealed myself to Thomas.”

Patton gasped softly, and made a strange motion with his hands, like he wanted to hug him, but thought better of it.

An awkward silence settled between them, but Patton broke it again.

“Do you want to see my wings?”

Deceit lifted his head at that, shock written all over his features. As he watched, Patton’s wings manifested in the static space behind his back. They were adorable, and matched Patton perfectly. They were much smaller than Deceit’s, and Patton’s feathers were light blue with green splashes on them, like someone had splattered paint on them. Patton stretched his wings all the way out.

“Would you like to touch them?”

Deceit’s hand was already halfway towards them, and he paused to confirm with Patton that yes, he could. Patton’s feathers were soft, not sticky like Deceit’s. He was still marveling over them when the other Sides returned, Roman balancing five mugs of tea and Logan carrying a small First-Aid kit. They all settled down on the living room floor with Patton and Deceit, all giving him warning looks as he carded his fingers through the downy feathers of the underside of Patton’s wing.

Deceit pulled his hand away like he had been burned and dropped his gaze again. If he had been looking up, he would have seen the glare that Patton was giving the others.

“Deceit, will you be ok with Logan bandaging your wings? The tops of them are rubbed raw and I want to make sure those don’t get infected and give the feathers there a chance to come back in.”

Deceit lifted one shoulder in acknowledgement and slowly stretched a wing towards Logan, ignoring the ache in the muscles from doing so. Logan’s hands were cold when they made contact with the tops of his wings, but his hands were gentle as he maneuvered it how he wanted it.

“Ok, I’m going to clean these, put some Neosporin on them, and bandage them. I apologise for any discomfort this may cause.”

The sting of whatever Logan was using to clean the wounds burned like a bitch, and Deceit white knuckled the fabric of his pants through the whole thing. The cream was cool, at least, and the bandage was soft. He let out a soft gasp when the cotton ball touched his other wing and pressed his lips together tightly to keep any other sounds from escaping.

A warm hand gripped his, and he glanced up to see Roman looking at him. Roman offered him a smile that was tight around the edges, but still genuine. He held his gaze until Logan secured the edge of the bandage.

“There. Finished.” He heard Logan shuffling away, and he awkwardly pulled his wings in towards his body.

“Thanks, Logan.” Deceit offered, glancing over his shoulder. Logan gave him a curt nod, but his eyes were soft. Patton handed him his mug of tea with a smile.

“It’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired. Do you want to sleep down here Deceit? Logan or I can change your bandages tomorrow and we can finish grooming you.”

Deceit nodded, and pretended the lump in his throat was allergies, or the hot tea going down before it had a chance to cool down. And the sting in his eyes was from the residual pain, not because Patton looked at him with an honest and open expression. No, there were no emotions here, his insides were just warm from the tea, not because he had never felt this kind of familiarity. Roman’s hand was still warm on his, and the pain in his wings had faded to a background ache.

“Yes, Patton, thank you. That sounds...wonderful.”

Deceit couldn’t have lied even if he wanted to.

#love athena #athena rambles #sympathetic deceit #winged sides #hurt/comfort #platonic lamp #ts fic #please validate me I lowkey hate this story but ONLY because writing it killed #me #i have four ? other stories that im working on and I promise ill get them out soon

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thiskryptonite · 5 years

Text

When in Rome

Tagging: Xander Drakos & August Knight

Time Frame: January 13th - 19th, 2019

Word Count: 1945

Trigger Warning: Alcohol, Slavery, Dark Themes

Notes: August breaks away from the party and finds Vitalis (Xander) who proceeds to give him a small tour of some of the ancient world. INCOMPLETE.

August

The evening had moved past him in a blur, how long had it been? August could not say. Time felt different here, the spring weather made him exuberant and excitable, though perhaps that was the wine and the very fine faerie food he’d indulged in previously. August lay, languid across the lap of someone he barely knew as the fae recited poetry he implied was a work of his own. August tasted grapes and wine and smiled, despite himself.

“The life so brief, the art so long in the learning, the attempt so hard, the conquest so sharp, the fearful joy that ever slips away so quickly - by all this I mean love,” fingers caressed his cheek and absently August cringed. Was he reciting Chaucer? “...which so sorely astounds my feeling with its wondrous operation, that when I think upon it I scarce know whether I wake or sleep.”

Yeah, he definitely was. Absently August had to wonder how many had succumbed to that tactic. How many had swooned at stolen, honeyed words. Barf. The fae leaned in and from the corner of his eye, August caught the sight of a familiar face and sat up immediately. Hungry for an excuse to get away from this particularly grating plagiarist. “Where are you going?” The fae asked as August stood to leave without so much as a goodbye, “sobriety calls.” August dismissed, not looking back as he made his way towards Vitalis. “Tell me about late Rome? Tell me again about how it fell.”

Xander

Xander had been enjoying his time at the sarau for as long as he could; entertaining the other fae that he didn't know well enough to care about. He missed his old friends, but even now, faces were always missing, and the gatherings got smaller and smaller. He nearly ran off to hide until he heard a familiar voice, glancing over his shoulder to see August running after him. "Don't you have someone else to bother?" The air fae tried not to laugh, wrinkling his nose at the question, "Everyone says Rome fell. No one seems to remember that it split into two – while Western Rome fell, Constantinople thrived. Either way, what do you want to know? What it looked like?" He turned to walk backwards, his eyes glowing brighter for a few moments as the reality between the two of them began to morph. "Rome was all....magnificent archways, shining marble – and conquest. Rome was shitty, but everyone seems to love it. If you want beauty, you should've asked for the shores of the Nile, and the golden pathways of Thebes. How much do you know about the ancient world, kid?"

August

Vitalis’ greeting was predictable, but warm in that it was familiar. The party, however grand and entertaining, was far removed from anything August had yet to experience. The fights were more gilded than the ones he’d experienced, the wine was stronger, the food was richer, and the fae, however blessed among their own. Were embodiments of the disharmonious elements that they each represented. It had been a rich experience, but like any, he began to see the cracks below the surface quickly. The resentment in the eyes of some, the longing in the eyes of others, the sorrow and grief that stained the empty seats. “At the moment? No.” August said, absently wondering where Aria might have gotten off to, but so far everything the witch had seen was -relatively- safe, he was sure she was fine, whereever she was right now. He followed Vitalis' as the fae's eyes shone more brilliantly, “I know as much as one can find through books and the like, and from what you’ve shown me in the past.” The witch said thoughtfully, “I don’t think there has ever been a great society without some rot, some perhaps more than others, but I would be eager to see the Coliseum, you’ve yet to take me there.”

Xander

"What, you've never been there to see it crumbling a little? They take pretty good care of it – but huge monuments like theaters are always the longest to last. People just live around it. How do you think Cairo grew to be so big? They took stone from the pyramids. It's why they look like they're made of steps. The tops used to be made of pure gold, and the outside was beautiful white stone. Now, it's the old stone underneath that's shown because over time, people just starting taking stones from the pyramids. It's why I hate the human world. They can't take care of the beautiful monuments left behind from their own ancestors. It's ridiculous." Alexander created a new scene around them, one that was filled with the sounds of a typical Agora. The cobbled streets of Rome were dusty and dirty; children running, guards patrolling – it was everything he'd seen when he was there. "Rome was filled with people. They praised the gods they found in Greece; hailed for treasures that they thought would please their gods." The Colosseum was in front of them now, restored in all of its former glory. "Titus took all the credit for finishing it. They used to play out sea battles, believe it or not. My favorites were the gladiators. You know, you'd think they'd be strong and glorious – most of the time they were missing fingers or an eye and some teeth. Definitely not worth your time. Every now and then they'd bring in an exotic from the East, and I have to say they were the attractive ones. Which is why I'd save them when I could. No one that pretty deserves to die like that."

August

“Sadly no, most of my experiences were scattered between casinos in Vegas, and road trips through the Midwest.” August said easily, “I’d hoped I’d end up in Rome eventually, it was on the list of things I’d like to see, next to the pyramids actually. It is detestable, that such marvels could be created only to be stripped bare.I read that the ancient Egyptians used slaves to transport the stones from a great distance,” August paused for a moment, he imagined that they were quite the sight to see once. “It seems to be the case for all great human structures that they were built upon the backs of those who endured great and long suffering.” He saw the jewels and the gold in his mind’s eye but somehow underneath, he just saw how it rot. The street that Vitalis transformed before him was bustling, full, exciting. He wondered what magics this era might have offered, if they went back millennia further to ask mythical Circe the legendary secrets of transformation. Absently, August sighed. “They must have been grateful to you,” August chimed, though it was a shame that Vitalis was not able to save more, though August imagined that the air fae much felt the same. “Where did you sit? In the times that you came here.”

Xander

“Vegas and the Midwest?” Alexander found himself laughing, wrinkling his nose as he looked fondly at the young witch. “North America built on top of everything that was once held sacred by a people who had been there far longer than the Spanish and other Europeans who claimed the land. They were curious as to why the land was barren when they got here and built on skeletons.” He waved his hand, getting completely off topic as he tried to steer the conversation back towards Rome. “Slaves were the norm; anyone could become a slave. If you were the son of a noble and were captured by Spartans, you would have no titles in Laconia. You would simply be another Greek tragedy. Gladiators were slaves - and I could only save so many. And the lives they all lived? Some were good, some were not worth saving. I took care of the ones who weren’t.” He pulled August up onto one of the stands, the echoes of the fight reaching even the highest section. “Wherever I wanted. But here was nice.” The people of Rome were just as he remembered, and the colors of the fabric woven in to the clothes of the nobles compared to the middle class was evident as well. “What do you think?” He asked curiously, changing their scenery to the banks of the Nile.

August

August smiled in return, it was nice to hear the acknowledgment from another. “Colonialism,” August said, the word rolled off his tongue somewhat disdainfully. “My aunt told me our families’ coven had its origins among those people who called the land sacred. My ancestor walked among banks of roses at night, and became known as a man who did such things. The colonists shortened it to just ‘Knight’ for census.” Now an entire coven thrived under it. “Did you have opportunity to see it beforehand?” He imagined desserts that ran uninterrupted for miles, evergreens that rolled the hills and mountains of the Pacific Northwest. He’d always wanted to go north, the thought made him smile despite that it was impossible now. “I suppose,” August hummed as Vitalis went into greater explanation, it was true, when society was stratified class systems made such things common. Practical even. And it wasn’t limited strictly to human society, how else would such pyres of human sacrifice be built. Aptly, August took in the sights as Vitalis unveiled them, sand that rolled through the floor, raucous cheers and laughter that became more contained the higher the two of them climbed. The fae never failed to disappoint, though to him this was just another in a long line of memories - apparently one of lesser interest to Vitalis. The division was clear as they stood at the summit, absently, August wondered where he himself might have sat. Absently he could spy a dark corner, suitable for a social pariah to gaze up at everything that was out of his reach someday he’d say.

It was a relief when the scenery changed, the waters, the richest he’d ever seen. Water rolled across vast and rich, lush sights and settlements and creatures of all forms sculpted the landscape. Lazy amphibians rolled in the muck, or lurked waiting in its depths, monuments in the distance greater and more beautiful than any he’d seen prior; a cornucopia of life as exuberance lifted into the sky. August smiled, it was beautiful, but he was still considering the fae’s question. “I think it is sad,” he hummed lightly before he wandered to the beach, not fearing harm by any of the many-toothed animals that called the banks of the Nile their home. Absently he knelt and felt the grains of fertile sand beneath his fingers, it seemed so real. So powerful was the fae’s magic, but it was still different from what August had expected.

“The court had many beauties, but here I can say I almost prefer the illusion,” August said, pausing for a moment before he looked at Vitalis- he looked different from what the witch had known him as before. But still he felt the same. He could not help but think he preferred him this way, here, he was in his element, but absently they were frozen in time. It would be too easy to stay here forever, a million questions puddled and pooled in the witches mind, but he was grateful to be with someone he thought of fondly. Someone who answered his questions with only some scathing tones. “But I suspect you feel the same, does it trouble you to bring me here?”

#discord:xander #Xander 03 #convo:xander #event:sarau #tw: alcohol #tw: slavery #tw: dark themes

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notskam · 6 years

Text

So I’d made a fic rec master post before where I included my fave fics from the Evakteket Best of 2017 nominated fics, and then June came with some incredible fics and I was like, I have read so many fics that are so good, especially in June alone, which was like this magical thing to me as I got to read them in pride month. Some of these fics are not written in June but I included it in here anyway. So, the intention here is to be able to share this with others who, maybe, are coming across any of these fics for the first time and I will feel so lucky and honored to be able be that person who made you check it out and give it a chance. All of these fics are incredible and I promise you that. Also, if you are a reader/fan of fics, please try and spread the word about it. The writers put their heart and soul in the work they put out in the world, and if you liked it, and if you stumbled across a rec post from the author of the fic you liked, please try and reblog it. It’s the least you can do for free stuff that moves you and makes you feel.

four movements on a first wedding by chevythunder / @icelandcurry

Tags: Accidental Marriage

Summary: Sonja catches sight of the crumpled marriage certificate that’s fallen out of his bag. The crooked smile on her face is enough for Isak’s eyes to burn.

“I’m still hoping that’s fake,” Isak says, going for a laugh. It bounces back to him, the faux joy making him nauseous. She stares at it for a few seconds longer, zoning in on the signatures, running a thumb over Even’s. “I- God, that’s... Seeing his name on one of these.”

Isak looks down, keeps looking down. Tries to block out the hurt he’s causing, the hurt he’s feeling. He hugs her tightly before letting her out the door. Her answering embrace feels like going through the motions.

Isak's spent years keeping his distance to Even, worried that any kind of closeness could trigger feelings he won't be able to suppress. Waking up married to Even after a blurry night in Las Vegas throws a slight wrench in those plans.

(--bla bla: this fic, i have re-read it an embarrassing amount of times. at first, i was skeptical about it because i don’t like the vegas accidental marriage cliche but i love the author’s style and the way they portray isak and even with utmost care, i am so glad i read and i can’t wait for someone to find it from my recs. this fic will give you all the feels, i promise--)

if you must live, darling one, just live by grinsekaetzchen / @hotchocolatenthusiast

Tags: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse

Summary: The world has ended and Even is still alive. He steps into the street, takes in the way the sun is shining onto the ruins. The silence of the town is at odds with the way the sun feels on Even’s skin. A distant warmth. The beginning of a movie. A sunrise, the hero turning his back on a ghost town, leaving.

Cut. Darkness. Fast forward to the light again.

Even starts walking.

(--bla bla: this is an amazing fic, it’s like you are watching a movie, you know? and you would want to read multi chapters of this verse because it’s such an addictive thing. i have recently discovered that i kind of have a post-break and post-apocalypse kink, oh well, if you do too, check it out. and check their other fics as well, they are really talented and i just discovered them last month--)

Cathedrals of Light, Salt and Snow by shoulderbone (lavenderforluck) / @odeto-psyche

Tags: Canon Compliant, But also canon divergence

Summary: What he wants to say, and cannot bring himself to admit: Before you there was no real me. Only a person pretending to be. Or, alternatively: Isak comes back to face death, and in the meantime, finds rebirth.

(--bla bla: i discovered this from @evakteket recs, bless immy and kit for maintaining such a cool rec blog, my rec post would look like a joke to the work they and @evaksbinder does, but i’m trying my best to show my gratitude here, i think it’s cute,, ok? so this fic, i have a high threshold for angst, as long it’s not there for angst sake and it’s realistic in the scenario, i love angst. and this fic is angsty. it’s isak who lives in germany and is not in a good place emotionally and comes back to oslo because his mother has died, and it’s his journey through grief and self acceptance. i love how isak and even come together in this fic (it’s hardly a spoiler, psst), it’s epic in all it’s glory and i love post break up getting together fic sooooo much. There’s an Even’s POV WIP sequel to this fic which is not as angsty but is equally wonderful. oh, i forgot to mention they include really cool art recs and song recs within the fic, which just.... enriches your fic reading experience ten fold. someone who puts that much effort deserves all the love in the world. i love you! --)

All the climbing, all the falling by Alene / @tristealven

Tags: Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary: Isak and Even never saw each other after that night at the Plaza. Five years later Isak studies molecular biology in Bergen and keeps running into someone tall and blond.

It rains a lot, there are mountains to climb, and some things start to fall into place.

(--bla bla: this fic. this beautiful, beautiful fic. i can’t rec this enough. elina’s writing just transports you to that gloomy, cloudy aesthetic, especially this is a great read in this awful summer. elina and i bonded over our great love for ‘all stories are echoes’ and i didn’t even know she wrote too? and i was like mad at myself and others for not reccing me soon enough. since then i have read it three times and there’s a wonderful sequel too, so makes sure you read that as well. definitely in my top 5! --)

let's not waste it feeling wrong by @prettyisak

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks

Summary: Isak has always been skeptical of the soul mark.

Instead of your soulmate's first words to you written on your skin, it's the last words you ever hear them say, so you don't know who your soulmate is until you lose them.

(--bla bla: this fic is a gem, the introspection and the characterization within the plot is just so refreshing and i love their writing. i love the pacing of this fic too --)

On call by MinilocIsland / @irazor

Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Summary: Isak knows what he's meant to do in life - surgery. And he can't wait to show everyone that he's good at it.

That is, if he'll ever get a goddamn chance. Not getting hindered by ridiculous, charming guys whose main advantage in the operating room simply is the length of their legs.

Or - a hospital AU, with both Isak and Even as intern physicians

(--bla bla: never thought i’d like a fic were even is a physician? this was so great, i loved it! look out for a delightful magnus here --)

i always knew by GayaIsANerd / @greathalesonfire

Tags: Alternate Universe – Soulmates

Summary: The dreams start on his 19th birthday. A woman screaming, a basement, a man slamming the door behind him, a dark bar, a kind voice telling him he’ll be okay, a blurry shot of another boy. Those are the most clear but there are other images, emotions and sensations lingering even after he wakes. There’s no clear timeline, no names or addresses or anything that could give more definite information.

The information Even doesn’t have, tells him his soulmate is younger than him, not yet 19.

The information he does have, tells him his soulmate is suffering and Even’s heart aches for him.

(--bla bla: gaya is a legend around here, and rightfully so. READ THIS. --)

dancing past the point of no return by @fxckxxp

Tags: Alternate Universe - Afterlife

Summary: Even has 24 hours to test drive the afterlife, where at the end he can either decide to 1. live for eternity or 2. let his existence dissolve into nothingness. Isak has 21 of those 24 hours to convince him to stay.

(--bla bla: afterlif au? yes, please. i love how isak is portrayed here. it could have easily been a whiny!isak which i don’t enjoy. it’s not. isak is wonderful here. --)

Far From Heaven 2.0 by grallonsphere

Tags: Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary: When Even chooses to go study film-making in America, without first being upfront about it with Isak, he sets in motion a chain of events that will leave them both lost and damaged...

(bla bla: i found this fic from a commissioned art that popped up, and i was travelling and i wanted to read something long in one go. i forgot to check the tags, if i would’ve have, i wouldn’t have read this fic. and it would’ve been a shame because i loved it. it was really well written and if someone told me the outline of this story, i wouldn’t even give it a chance. it’s one of those fics which you have to read to get why someone liked it. useful tip: read this like an original story instead of a fanfic, it might help? i don’t know if this makes sense?? i bullied @art-vandeley into reading it and she did like it, though, so.. it’s not just me!

Phosphorescence by unsungyellowraincoat / @isaksbestpillow

Tags: Canon Compliant

Summary: Maybe they will all get there one dayTo a place of no fear. They go to Latvia.

(--bla bla: a year ago all i read was canon compliant fics, because my stupid brain could not imagine them in other scenarios, now i do love an au that doesn’t butcher their characterization, but a good canon compliant will always be my top priority and this is one of the best! the line in the summary is something you won’t forget. and it’s isak,even, eskild and linn! a combo you never saw before. it’s delightful and this feeling of ‘i wanna read 10k worth of isak and even just being themselves and bantering’ stayed with me after reading it. --)

daffodils, daisies, snowdrops & roses by puddingandpie / @annecuthbertshirley

Tags: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism

Summary: Even is a Spring. He’s new life. Renewal. Hope. Good things. It follows him everywhere he goes, seeping out of him like he has no idea how to control it.

Isak can’t take his eyes off of him. It’s intoxicating, the way he exudes happiness and warmth in a way that should be typical of a Summer, but somehow seems to suit him just right. But just watching him makes Isak’s own body run colder, the icicles that have taken up a permanent home on his hands weaving more intricate designs than usual. It’s the same response as he once had with Jonas, but this time, Even does not have the heat to break the pattern. Isak knows that if he even dares get closer to Even he will ruin him, just as is the natural order of things. Winter kills plants. Winter kills Spring.

tldr; in a world where u are assigned a Season at birth which defines your magic, isak is a Winter, even is a Spring. they shouldn't work. somehow they do.

(--bla bla: someone who just read canon compliant stuff for a while, all of these AUs just blows my mind and how well isak and even fits in those universes and are still their soft, dorky self. *enter the audio where jvn says ��love’* --)

waxing, waning by @vesperthine

Tags: Post-Canon

Summary: They’re in a car, heading towards the E6. Streetlights become blurred dots in the watery dark, and the shadows pass over Isak’s face ( – waves of lights, waxing and waning like the moon, the tide, the moods – ) as they’re navigating through the currents of traffic.

(--bla bla: vesper is so good with real emotions. it annoys me when people dismiss fics because it’s “angst”, i’ve come to associate angst as a negative word now. i wouldn’t call the stuff she writes as angst. raw / real / emotional / introspective - all this, maybe? what do you think? --)

Naturlig seleksjon by Allieverwas, Artemis2121, Kikki1

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, PrisonAU

Summary: Livet i fengsel er tøft. Her gjelder den sterkestes rett både for innsatte og ansatte. Even jobber hardt for sin plass på rangstigen. Bare synd at han må holde kortene tett til brystet på så mange områder i livet sitt.

(--bla bla: @vildenooras recommended me this and it was a roller coaster. i wouldn’t deliberately read a prison au and i’m so glad you did it babe, it was feel train for me and thank you for literally holding my hand when i freaked out at twists in this fic. we hate larson in this house, don’t we? --)

tender (is the night) by kittpurrson / @towonderland72

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates

Summary: His whole body aches, like he’s regrown his limbs overnight, stretched out muscles he never knew he had.

Isak knows, in that moment, that his life has just been turned upside down.

“You bonded,” Even’s girlfriend confirms, and the pity in her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “Try not to move.”

(--bla bla: this fic, god this fic.my first soul-bond fic, can you believe that my first time was that good? at first when it everyone was talking about i dismissed it because the concept of soul-bond was meh to me. now i can’t get enough. i can only imagine the thought process that went in to writing this epic, oh my god. i read it one go and at one point i didn’t have internet for a few days and i was grumpy af and my friends abandoned me. apparently, i was “hard to be around with”. whatever. anyway, this is definitely in my top 5 and i’m pretty sure everyone has read it already! check out this fanart by ayesha, OMG?!!! --)

you and me from the night before by colazitron / @fille-lioncelle

Tags: Travel AU

Summary: There are only two reasons to wake up before eight in the morning: emergencies or romance. When Isak wakes Even on this particular February Friday, it's the latter.

(--bla bla: oh. cola! sweet, sweet cola. one of my fave writers in this fandom who is so consistently great with their writing, I CAN’T. SOO GOOD. exactly why i have you on subscription😎. remember SKAM Fic Week 2018 ? 7 days of awesome content. i remember telling them about wanting multi chapters of all of the fics they wrote that week. i hope you don’t hate me for that! in this fic, isak an even are just being their sweet, soft, ridiculous self. it’s nothing really. also, it’s everything and just the kinda thing i. can’t. get. enough. of! --)

A Beginner's Guide to Living with Isak Valtersen by riyku

Tags: Canon Compliant

Summary: Or, how to live with the love of your life, in five easy to follow steps.

(--bla bla: i discovered this author when @art-vandeley recommended bassline to me. of course, i read it one go. and i’m waiting for it’s update like i haven’t waited for anything else, ever. and then i went ahead and read all of their one shots. they write isak and even so well, the introspection is just so well done and it’s like poetry, like, seriously, read them. it’s breathtaking. i desperately want you to check it out so here’s a little snippet -

Rule 4: Never allow him to wake up alone. Isak hates it, and you hate the idea of him finding a you-shaped hole beside him. You will lay in bed and watch the sunrise color in his face with broad strokes. Study the way his curls lick the skin behind his ear and the perfect fit of your palm on his hipbone. You will create patterns in the moles on his back until they become constellations in your mind, complete with their own mythologies. The stories change and you will never write any of them down. Isak will reach for you before he opens his eyes, gasp like the simple act of waking up is a shock to him every single time, then he'll bury his pillow-creased face in your neck. Sometimes you'll fuck around. Sometimes you'll make him breakfast.It will be two months before you realize that on the very rare occasions where Isak wakes up first, he's doing it too.>> see?? --)

Eventyr by imminentinertia / @skamskada

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale

Summary: Once upon a time, humans knew about and feared the wights in the forest. Now the wights are all forgotten, and perhaps they have left their hills and trees and ponds.

Perhaps some are still there.

(--bla bla: enchanting is the word. this fic is enchanting. so gorgeous and i really want more, more, more... --)

to love you every day by @skamz

Tags: Canon Compliant, Advent Calender

Summary: Advent calendars are nice, but the ones you buy at the store are not really what Even wants to offer Isak. And so he decides to make one for him instead.

(--bla bla:Cristine got me for secret santa (poor girl) and wrote this incredible fic, for me?? I just re - read it recently and can’t believe my luck. also, read all of their works. they are incredible.--)

you’ll always wait for me to come home by iriswests / @juilawicker

Tags: Science Fiction

Summary: In a world where time may be arbitrary, but perhaps not linear, Even looks for Isak.

(--bla bla: i believe this is ceecee’s best work yet. it is so well written and it had me in the edge of my seat through and through. just gorgeous and i love isak and even in a sci fi setting! even and sana teams up in a refreshing way and this fic just is like watching a movie, i love it when a fic can do that. like in an all encompassing way you shut your internet off and just want to immerse in this verse. --)

All this and heaven too by @champagneleftie and @nofeartina

Summary: The first time, it’s just a hookup, a quick blowjob in a club bathroom.

The next time Isak pretends he’s never seen him before. But maybe that’s because they’re at church. And the pastor is Isak’s dad.

Even shouldn’t want the closeted pastor’s son like this, but it’s impossible not to. Especially when he’s already had a taste.

(--bla bla: this was a fantastic read. spoiler alert: look out for the romeo and juliet parallel. i swooned . you will too. --)

Dear Friend by bri_ness / @brionbroadway

Tags: Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Isak and Even work together in a failing video store, and they cannot stand each other.

Isak and Even both signed up for the Love Letters dating service, and they’re both falling for their anonymous pen pal.

Or, a She Loves Me AU (kind of, sort of).

(--bla bla: god, isak and even in this fic is so eloquent, i can’t with them. and it’’s pacing is wonderful. it’s not rushed or slow, just perfect. high-key wants a follow up to my fave bri fic. please read this fic ok. it’s very soft. --)

I even made a not so good edit for this fic, that’s how much I loved it. Bri liked it, that will do ;) check out her fics and drabble, all of them are wonderful.

Must read short fics:

you don’t have to carry the weight of your sin, we didn’t rise to cave in by @evenbechneiheim

@thefancyspin drabbles: seriously, read em all, it will be time well spent, trust me.

Also, this amazing fic/drabble by @greathalesonfire about sex is something I go back to and re-read, because, why the hell not? It’s so breath taking.

This drabble by @fxckxxp which sort of is like a missing scene thing between isak and even’s first kiss in the pool and the cuddle marathon the next day. It’s incredibly well written and easy to imagine that this is exactly what happened.

WIPS that rocks my world

Shaky målinger av livet (uten deg) by Frieda Echte (Plommesill), Peer

Tags: Canon Divergence

Summary: this is a little bit tricky. but hear me out, I have their consent to read this fic using google translate (desperate to a whole new level, eh?), they even said to ask them if i have any doubts (how kind??) and I get help from @vildenooras, amalie and sofie. SO, in this fic, Isak is in Germany due to his studies and Even is in Oslo, and they do the long distant relationship thing, it’s hard but they make it work, but life throws them few curve balls and this fic is basically about how they deal with it.

It’s so realistic and wonderful. Freida writes Isak’s POV and Peer writes Even’s, which is like, so cool, right? So, if you can read Norwegian, please, please, please read this.

Bassline by riyku

Tags: Alternate Universe - Rock Band

Summary: Isak opens up the email from his editor, skims through it for the tenth time, snagging to a stop on phrases like serial piece and North American tour coverage, boots on the ground and big opportunity. His response is quick and vague, that he'll let her know tomorrow morning, although he's known the answer from the jump.

(Or, Isak is a Norwegian ex-pat, fresh out of NYU with a journalism internship, who bags an assignment covering a band from his former hometown of Oslo on their first North American tour. It takes him about three seconds to realize he kinda has a thing for the bass player).

(--bla bla: first of all, i do not enjoy Americanized fics,, but this is not that, and it is GLORIOUS. this is the sexiest even i’ve ever read and isak is not a helpless pining dork here, he is just so grounded and in tune for his desire not being realistic to be with even, but they do get together and it’s hardly a spoiler, i wanna mention the pacing here too. wow. it wasn’t stretched to keep the will-they-won’t-they thing going the last update is at such a delicious point I AM STARVING FOR AN UPDATE LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. also nooreva is a thing, which is like, yayy! --)

lover of my impossible soul by shoulderbone (lavenderforluck) / @odeto-psyche

Tags: Canon Compliant

Summary: We don't often reveal ourselves, when we don't actually know what there is to reveal yet. Or, alternatively: Isak returns to Oslo, and most importantly, to Even.

(--bla bla: this the Even’s POV sequel to Cathedrals and one of those fic that just makes you feel like you’ve been transported to Oslo and is invisibly stalking isak and even, which exactly how i feel when i watch s3. the music rec, the art rec, i can’t thank you enough and just reminds me of the time I read ‘all stories are echoes’ (am i plugging it too much, why wouldn’t i? it’s my #1 fave after all) it’s got that movie like feeling to it, which i’m addicted to and cannot get enough of. also, isak is so smooth here. master of wooing and even melts. and swoons. i can’t with these two. and this fic. this is also the fic where me and ayesha messages each other right after there’s an update and we gush and gush, gdkjngk --)

ok, so after the not so pretty rambling about great fics that deserves to be recced in an elegant way, i just wanna say i had this thought, that, the places the writers in this fandom has taken isak and even, all the parallel universes and all the brilliant characterization and introspection, julie could only dream of. not a diss, i will never diss the queen. forever grateful. and grateful to all the writers for your generosity and brilliance.

god sommer. vi chattes 💖

#fic rec 1 #userskamedits #skam fic #evak fic #skam fwn #fic rec #fic rec masterpost #my fic rec #this is not edited #and done in a rush #but i had short listed the fics from a03 history #thanks to ayesha for letting me know that you can't see the fics you visited in the history tab #which i never realized i could #me = dumdum #anyway i hope you enjoy all of these wonderful works #also check the previous rec post #these are fpretty much the fics i have loved a lot #also there are fics i have forgotten to bookmark and haven't found in my history #and a lot of great one shots which i loved which are not here #but this is almost all of it i'd say #and now some ramblings about the graphics i made #isak and even is this SOFT in each and every fic on this list some poin #*on this list at some point or the other #and it's my fave screen-cap ever #also: i like it very much #they are sparkling #they are in a content bubble #bye

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