#Google TWS A series

[sweetestbasil]

RUBATOSIS || chapter one: self digestion

PAIRING : Dr.Gaul's Assistant!Coriolanus Snow x Experiment!Reader-Insert ( afab, they / them, sometimes it )

RATING : 18+ ( no smut in this chapter, but it's very unsettling )

WORD COUNT : 13, 776

WARNINGS : infidelity ( coryo's engaged to livia ), power imbalance, unreliable narrator ( it's 3rd POV but focuses on coryo's view ), unhealthy dynamics, dehumanizing language, medical experimentation, body examination that has... strange vibes, body horror-esque, coryo and gaul are messed up in this fic, he's more like his book version than movie

SUMMARY : 🙶 rubatosis - noun. the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 🙷

Fortune, marriage, and success - all within the hands of Coriolanus Snow, and it still isn’t enough to satisfy him. Tigris has grown distant and Livia is far more trouble than it's worth. 

Dr. Gaul has just the solution for him.

A/N : This is my first time posting my fanfic work on tumblr, so I hope everyone has fun reading this. If there are any mistakes, lemme know. This is the first of five chapters!

[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ]

self digestion || autolysis - stage one of decomposition 

Oh, he hated this. 

He absolutely despised this.

A click of the soles, stepping against the freshly clean sidewalk, rid of any possible careless litter and debris. Had it not been for others who, too, were using the same path, even if they were going in opposite directions, had he half a mind, Coriolanus would have taken the moment to prop himself against a wall and let out the loudest sound of frustration. It wouldn’t be unwarranted, it wouldn’t be uncalled for. Dare he say, he almost feels he should be entitled to it. It had only been four days, but four days should have been enough time for Tigris to get back to him already. The correspondence was not even something of dire content, at least, Coriolanus imagined so. Questions of Grandma’am, if her time with Mrs. Plinth ( he was not going to refer to her as ‘Ma Plinth’ ) had been going well, how was the solo business venture regarding Tigris’s fashion going, was there any renovations that the home needed, how were they — things that he assumed, wrongly he guessed, that would be so simple to answer. 

God forbid that he still had the decency to still check in with his family even after he long moved out into his own place. 

If Tigris thought she could play him for a fool, she was the one in the wrong; the signs were as clear as can be, that Tigris was trying to ice him out as much as she could. And after all he’s worked hard for? Fixing the home up, making sure the fridge never stays empty, stabilizing the family. He’s even gotten engaged before Grandma’am could even croak, and is letting Tigris design his fiancé’s wedding gown! What else was he supposed to do to try and gain back her warmth? Dance and clap like a District to make himself seem smaller, more dumb, to please her? There was a lock to his jaw, a small grit in Coriolanus’s teeth, as he sipped down the coffee in his hand, the other in his coat pocket. 

He didn’t even wish to broach the idea of his fiancé on his walk to the Citadel. The heavy breath, a sigh, that breached itself out his lips. A hand raised to rub a gloved thumb briefly at the bridge of his nose. 

Ugh, Livia… It was a pain to even internally taste the words of her name on his tongue. 

It was an arranged marriage of convenience that he sought after, an extra piggy bank that he could expend on; and how quickly the elder Cardews lapped up at his palm when he planted the idea of marrying their daughter. A man who was of the old guard elite families, an assistant of Dr. Gaul’s, inheritor of the Plinth’s fortune, a gamemaker in training? They were downright salivating, that he almost felt embarrassed for Livia having to witness her parents’ stripped to their barest of greeds. The keyword being almost. Coriolanus needed to play his cards right to ensure his future, it was only fair game. If that meant taking his chance with the Cardews’ and their banks, he’d be just the fool that Tigris would want him to be if he turned them away. But, he could reluctantly suppose that the arrangement could be considered an equal drain on both parties. He seized their assets and their daughter seized up his free time. How could he forget the fundraiser dinner that Livia had invited them both to later on in the evening? She was delightful enough to remind him of it while they shared breakfast together, between his bites of quiche so that he couldn’t show a hint of a frown. 

Coriolanus sucked in a careful breath between his teeth. 

If she could only put herself to better use than just the one redeeming quality of a socialite. There was a slim chance he may have miscalculated. Perhaps it would have been an easier time, having something set up with Clemensia, or Lysistrata. 

“Mr. Snow! Good morning and welcome back, Dr. Gaul is already waiting for you in—“ 

“In Lab H05, got it! And a good morning to you, too.” He smiled back effortlessly to the front desk worker, giving them a wave and just the right, charming amount of teeth with the upwards pull of his mouth. 

Entering into the Citadel and seeing the hive of workers shift from one place to another in constant movement; they all tried to keep their voices at a low volume, but there was a constant buzz in the air, as they went from one hall to the other. Coriolanus maneuvered himself around them, slipping his deep mahogany overcoat seamlessly folded across his forearm. Full-Grain leather gloves that kept him warm from the cold, taken off his hands and instead placed neatly into the pocket of his overcoat. What a marvel it would have been for his young, naïve self to bear witness the luxury of a full wardrobe he now had. Never again did he have to spend long nights studying for the Academy besides an equally tired Tigris, who busied herself with trimming down the sizes of his father’s discarded shirts to fit him for school the next day. 

It was a muscle memory at this point, the path to one of the many labs that Dr. Gaul had established her practice in. She had told Coriolanus that she had a lab for each different study and project she was passionate towards, ones that were more… presentable, to the average Capital citizen, and ones that were more uncensored. Having worked for over a year under Dr. Gaul’s tutelage, Coriolanus had seen a decent amount, the clean and the vile, but even then, he knew very well he had not seen all. He wasn’t even sure if he did want to see all. Especially regarding what happened last time he wandered around the Citadel during Academy days. The doors to Lab H05 were wide open, Coriolanus noted, seeing it in his line of sight, getting closer and closer. It was inviting, telling any worker to come in and step in at any time ( should Dr. Gaul be around ). 

The air here was entirely different from what it was in the hallway. Where the air from when he first entered had been warm, inviting from the nipping cold outside. The vague smell of coffee, and an even fainter scent of something chemical, had mingled and intertwined to give the vaguest illusion that the Citadel could pass for a workplace like any other. However, the lab was as if entering an entirely different building. The lights that shone uncomfortably glaring, fluorescent lights that were hung overhead, on the ceiling. There were small lights, embedded into the floors and columns as well, guiding the path to any who walked in. It drowned the large room in an almost blue light. Lab H05 was one of the “clean” labs. A sterile scent in the air, the chemicals that were so faint in the halls were far more prominent, evident here. But, to the trained nose, there was something faint here too. The rusted scent of iron tickled under Coriolanus’s nose, but it barely registered to him anymore as anything concerning. Seeing the endless shelves of… odd specimens, the scent of blood was the last thing that should ever scare him away. 

“Dr. Gaul, good morning,” He kept a steady tone, not one that sounded tired, nor too joyous. Being seen as her “favorite” didn’t mean he could speak to her as casually as he pleased. It just meant that he took her current attention. A fickle thing that could be stripped away at any moment if he showed any less than acceptable. 

“Coryo,” He tensed his shoulders the same time she breathed it out in loving fashion. Her back once facing him, now turned as she walks towards him to cut the distance between the two. Since the gap started to form between Tigris and him, Dr. Gaul had taken to using that nickname on him. If it was to be used in terms of endearing him to her, or to mock him with the name that ghosts had called him, none could say for sure.

Coriolanus liked to believe it to be both, if he believed his assumptions of her character were right.

He never once let his eyes leave contact with her own, but he could hear the movement of her prominent, red latex gloves being peeled off her hands. She always thought it to be ironic, to wear such a color despite her profession. It matched the dye job that she had done on her surgical gown. He felt the weight of hands touching either side of his forearms, the smile on Dr. Gaul’s face caused a crinkle in her eyes as she bared all teeth in her smile. He wondered if she knew how threatening her grin looked.

“A morning to you as well. Has it been treating you good?”  

It felt as if some sort of warm feeling was spreading out from Dr. Gaul’s hands, through his arms and into his body. What a disgusting sensation, it made goosebumps rise on his skin. 

“As well as it could be.” Coriolanus’s voice spoke softly. 

Livia drained his energy far more than he expected with her morning rambles and gossip. 

Dr. Gaul’s hands smacked against his arms in a laugh, loud and knowing, she always knew, turning around to walk deeper in the lab. “Hah! By the sounds of it, it seems you’re not getting some peace of mind when you head home,” She turned back to look at him, giving him a glance, she was prying something out of him. “That’s no good, Coryo. You need to be in top shape to work, I can’t have my assistant become so… drained.” 

The crease in her eyes showed again. 

“If this is your preferred state, there is a new species of leeches I am working on. I assure you it is far more efficient than a Cardew of species.”

Well, now it was his turn to laugh. 

A dry chuckle that slipped from Coriolanus’s lips, moving to follow Dr. Gaul. Placing his coat on a table made of rich wood, something less… aseptic looking. There were moments where he often froze under the woman’s gaze; a humiliating, bodily reaction that made him feel so small, so vulnerable as he used to be. Yet, it was in times like these, where he could understand how Dr. Gaul still managed to hold sway over people besides just exemplary displays of fear and power. There was a sense of humor to her, if he could call it that, where if a powerful woman like her involved yourself in - you felt so included, special. 

“It was nothing like that. Livia just reminded me that after work today, she and I have to attend dinner later in the evening. It’s a fundraiser for the improvement and reconstruction of the Corso.” He turned his sight away from Dr. Gaul’s eyes, not being able to keep the contact any more. Flicking to the sight of the endless, bright shelves that lit up the tubes containing various specimens and experiments. Some failures, some on pauses, some successes, and some were just creative ‘what-ifs’; that would explain some of the seemingly useless fusions, like the jellyfish that had spider legs mixed in with some of its natural lappets, now encased in a resin tube. Coriolanus can’t recall if he was employed at the Citadel yet when this specimen was made. His fingers briefly touched upon the cool glass of it. What a disgusting idea. “I almost nearly forgot about it.” Dr. Gaul hummed at his response. 

“Why, doesn’t that sound riveting! What a joy young life is, flitting from one function to the other, all the night-time glamor. You know, before I was transferred to work in the Citadel, I was the same. I thought of giving my children some of my old wardrobe from my youth, but it’s so out of the current trends, it just collects dust now.” What a blessing, for her kids. They could avoid the embarrassment of coming into the room looking as if they robbed the Pre-Dark Days exhibit at the Capital’s museum. The heels of Dr. Gaul’s heels clicked against the smooth, waxed floor. Coriolanus could feel the brief sliver of her heavy presence pass him by from behind, as she went to head over to another area in the room. It sounded vaguely close to the center of it. 

“You must be excited, Coryo. Are you going to wear,” Her words paused. She was tasting the air for something. “Ah, what’s her name… That cousin of yours, the one who started her new business a while ago.”

What was the point of this conversation?

“Tigris.” 

A brief flare tickled behind his ribs, reminding him of his thoughts earlier before. Standing up from his spot, fingers now leaving the glass of the odd ( sickening ) creature, his prints left slightly behind on the glass. Stretching his shoulders back with his arms, muscles pulled, away from their previously hunched position. Coriolanus walked over to where Dr. Gaul was, who stood nearby another table at the center of the lab. This time, this one was far cleaner, made of what seemed to be a material of stainless steel. In her hands she carried a manila folder, or two, in her hands; her painted nails sifted through the papers carefully. She was writing something quickly down inside of it. He wanted to know, but he held his tongue. Gaul would tell him if it was something he needed to be aware of. 

“And I’m not sure. Livia is still picking out her dress and I want to match with her.” He smiled at her. 

“Aren’t you a romantic,” She gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, the blue one that matched his. It made his skin crawl, he hated the feeling of it. “Is your heart melting, Snow?”

Coriolanus hopes she sticks to her career as a Gamemaker, being a comedian looks like a bleak future for her. 

The smile on his lips grew wider, a small laugh at her words, his hand reaching to cover his mouth slightly to muffle the sound in the large room. 

“I wouldn’t say that just yet.” 

He wouldn’t say it at all. Livia? Melt his heart? Sure, she could melt his eardrums when she had that obnoxious snort to her loud laughs. It made her sound like a pig, shipped straight to the Capital from the farms of District 10. That would defeat the purpose of why he married her in the first place. It would be the utmost betrayal to himself, after he had promised to close himself after– 

“Since you have a date tonight,” His ears perked up immediately. “I’ll reduce the amount of work you have for today, I’ll be merciful.” He wouldn’t argue if she decided to give him more. She pressed a manila folder into his open hands, her grip was tight on it. This was a folder that not many eyes needed to be on. Taking it carefully from her hands, he raised it to his eyesight curiously, catching the sight of the project name written on top of it. 

PROJECT: CAPTIVE – A.01 PROMETHEUS 

Coriolanus brought his gaze back towards Dr. Gaul. He assumed he slipped a confused gaze at her, because before he could even ask her, she’s already speaking up:

“This is a project I had started around the time you were exiled in District 12.” 

His jaw slightly tightened. She didn’t have to use that exact word to describe it. 

“It’s far more… unique,” Her eyes rolled around the room as she sought out the word, the moment it landed on her tongue, she locked her sight immediately onto him. Gaul’s smile pulled a bit more at her cheeks, a festering excitement that was slipping out from her internal confines. The threat of teeth in her smile was no longer an attempt of niceties, but far more sinister in its intentions. Coriolanus would argue on a good day that both were the same, that Dr. Gaul’s cruelty was her being kind. “Than my other projects. Far more different than any of my other muttations, this is a beast of a different breed, but one that you and I know intimately well.”

 So this was a human experimentation, Coriolanus deduced. 

Dr. Gaul would never dare to refer to those below Capital ranks as something human, there was always something else she had to refer to them by. Animal, beast, plague, insect, if it stripped them of their humanity, she was eager to take it. They shared similar sentiments, but sometimes, he had to give them some form of distinct name to separate them. “I’ve actually grown quite fond of it. Usually, I’d handle its tests and exams, but you seem like you need a pick-me-up.” 

It should make him disgusted at how easily she could see through him. 

The older woman stepped further away from him, into one of the dark recesses of the room. Lab H05 was one of the main center labs within the Citadel, meaning it earned itself the privilege to have its layout be connected to other rooms, outside areas, halls, and the like. It just happened to be, the darker areas that Gaul was heading in were towards the direction of one of the elevators connected to the room. Coriolanus watched her body retreat into the dimly lit area, not quite following after her. He didn’t know why. His hands felt stiff with the folder in his hands. The pounding beat of his heart in his ears matched in tempo with the steps of her heels against the floor. If he was going to move, she was going to need to ask him. She knew too, the doctor knew her own footsteps, and she was very aware when others’ joined in. Turning around to look at where he still was, standing, watching, she looked back at him. Coriolanus could make out her faint silhouette in the dark, but Dr. Gaul’s blue eyes shone brighter in the dark. As if she had tapetum lucidum, how it reflected so wildly. She was not helping the rumors made against her, that questioned if she ever used herself for a subject of fascination. 

“Come now, Coryo. You don’t want to waste time.”

A silence fell upon them both. 

“Understood, I’m right behind you.”

Walking after her, Coriolanus descended the small set of stairs that she had gone down from, he stepped into the dimly lit area. The manila folder was still grasped tightly in his one hand, at his side. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand her. Yes, she said that she wanted to cheer him up, but he’d be a fool if he was to believe that’d was to be the only reason why she was doing this. Volumnia Gaul, telling confidential secrets because she cared for his well being? No, there was always something else. An ulterior motive she wished to serve, or a lesson she wanted to teach. When he was brought back from his sentence of being a peacekeeper, it was not because her heart broke over him. She was not weeping at him having to tread his feet into the muck and grime of District 12. It was because she was holding him up to an ambition that both him and her both wished to see. 

“This one,” Dr. Gaul started her words, occasionally turning her head to the side to make sure he was still following her ( he was ). “Started out as a simple curiosity. I had to sit with myself quite a bit to figure out a punishment that would actually serve some productivity.” Her hands reached behind her, flicking at the folder that Coriolanus was holding. He opened up the folder, finally, to look through the report. Whatever the Doctor was gesturing vaguely in conversation, it would be more explicit in her writings. “Displays of cadavers, desecration of the human silhouette, trauma to the cerebrum, these punishments can only go for so long before new ideas must be made. If the rebels expect the same disciplinary action, you can expect them to gain a tolerance to it.”

Squinting at the paper, he leaned his head slightly down to get a closer look of the subject. A small photo was attached to the report by a paperclip, it was a person who seemed to be in a similar age group to his. They looked clean, proper - they wore an ironed, white button up shirt under a dark vest, with unique, yet simple earrings they donned on. Pearls and tiny opals that dangled from a gold chain earring. A family heirloom, if Coriolanus had to guess. They smiled widely in the photo. Their teeth weren’t perfect, their upper cuspid was a bit more pointed in comparison to all others. 

They had once been a capital citizen, turned rebel, to… this. 

“I wanted to truly push my mind forward, and see if the impossible would truly be… well, possible.” Dr. Gaul grinned at the end of the sentence. Coriolanus lifted the photo up, after hooking his gaze unto the former for a moment. It’s a shame, he thought to himself. How pretty they are, had they not tainted their mind with childish ideas they would have continued to live in the comforts that they were so comfortably lavishing in before. He was curious as to whose family they once belonged to. A filthy curiosity enticed him, a want to digest more at the report at the risk of tuning out Gaul’s feverish ramblings. 

“Personally, I outdid myself.”

There was a small desire to curse her under his breath, the writing for the subject’s name was far too rushed and messy to read properly. Did she want him to read the report, or play word scramble? 

Dr. Gaul’s steps had stopped, the white noise of her chatter turned to silence was enough to bring his head back from the report. She stood between him and the elevator, holding her hands in front of her, folded. Peeking to the side, the button for the down level was lit up in a glow of red. Her smile widened. 

“Curiosity eating away at you, Coryo?” 

It still made his skin crawl, everytime she used that name. How frightening it was, that it also brought him a strange sense of the coldest warmth. 

“You’ve talked so vividly about them,” Not clear enough. “I want to see what makes you so excited about them.” He wants to see if they could come close to bringing him out of his frustrations. Fingers that touched the edge of the subject’s photo twitched in tempo with the small ding of the elevator. Doors opening, Dr. Gaul stepped to the side. Hands gestured, letting him know to step in first which he obliged. Yet, no other steps than his own followed him in. Coriolanus turned around, a puzzled look on his face when he noticed how Dr. Gaul was standing in the middle of the elevator’s doors. 

“Expected me to come join you? You can’t be so attached to my hip, Coryo.” She laughed, her hands reached in between her surgical gown and work attire. Pulling out a set of keys attached to her worker’s ID, she tugged a key off. Dr. Gaul dipped her body slightly in to twist at a lock that had revealed another panel of floor buttons aside from the usual floor ones. This must have been the key designated for the Citadel’s researchers and engineers. He had a private key of his own, but that was reserved for Game Makers. Still in training, but Dr. Gaul had persuaded the others to give him his own copy. “I have other things that need tending to, so you’ll have to have your fun without me.” Pushing a floor button that was labeled C09, glowing red under her touch, she gave him her key. She pressed into Coriolanus’s free palm, closing his fingers to clasp around it. 

“You can keep this one. I’ll ask for another copy.”

Was it because this one almost seemed rusted over to hell and back? Coriolanus wasn’t an idiot. He could feel the textured sensation of something that, usually, was supposed to be smooth metal. 

“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.” He spoke softly back to her. 

Dr. Gaul sent him another smile towards his way, the abominable sight of her gradually leaving his sight as the doors closed. A divide now between the both of them. 

Instantly, a breath of air was released from Coriolanus. His head reeled back, eyes closed,  leaning against the wall of the elevator. He was now by himself. Free from that imposing woman, he finally could be released from her watchful gaze. Always gauging him, examining him as if he, too, was another subject on her surgical table. Perhaps, in a strange, distant sense, he was. Which is why he likes it far more when their interactions are limited. Even if it makes him feel guilty if he hasn’t spoken to her for any prolonged amount of time. 

Another breath, he brought his head back down, eyes open. Opening his hand to where the key was held in his hand. It was frighteningly warm in his hand, most likely from when both Dr. Gaul and him held onto it. The material of the key was dark in color, rust having formed around some of the edges. Spots of dark stains marred its dull shine, it almost looks black in contrast to the key’s natural dark hue. This most definitely was blood, now dried. In his head, Coriolanus could see the vivid picture in his head: Dr. Gaul barely bothering to remove her gloves after leaving the examination room, holding the key between sticky gloves. A sneer pulled on Coriolanus’s face. He pocketed the key away. 

He wanted to focus on something else. 

The weight of the manila report at his side stuck out glaringly obvious, he still had yet to fully read through everything. His fingers were still thumbing between one of the pages, bookmarking a random place in the report. Should he wait to see the project on his own? Give himself something ‘fun’ to surprise himself with? A discomfort prickled at the hairs on his neck. No, he didn’t like surprises too much. Surprises meant no control, and no control meant chaos that wasn’t under his hand. And what more could be asked, when what he needed to know was right here. Hands flipped back open the manila folder while he waited for the elevator to finish its descent. 

On the first page, there was only one photo of the subject, before the project had started. Dr. Gaul was always so thorough, so there must have been more to see. And how he loved to be right, when the sight of more clipped on photos peeked through in between pages. He stopped at the sight of them. These had been nude, taken in what was most definitely an examination room. They must’ve been in captivity for a few days for how haggard they looked. Gleam completely gone, with only a dark emptiness seen on their face. Signs of minimal swelling on their left cheek from when they were hit by a peacekeeper when resisting arrest. Bags under the optics, suggesting either sleep deprivation or developed insomnia. His eyes lingered on the photos that took in zoomed in shots of identifiable beauty marks that were scattered around their body. One around the back of their left acromial, around the sternocleidomastoid, one on the left mammary gland, and another on the right femoral muscle. Unconsciously, his fingers traced along the edges of each photo as he examined them until they traced after the words of ink. 

The objective of the project: engaging and testing pain receptors on the subject. By use of non-licensed medication and surgical operations, the subject’s NTRK1 gene was mutated to a certain extent to gain the closest imitation to Congenital Analgesia ( while still keeping the subject alive ). If Coriolanus recalled, in his textbooks, Congenital Analgesia was a condition that always was given to a patient by a pass down from the parent. It was never really something ‘made’, or ‘given’. He could understand now why Dr. Gaul was so pleased with herself for accomplishing this feat. Curiosity was beckoning him, wanting to see more of what the report entailed. 

Pages dedicated to each operation, each test done. There were pain charts made, scales from 1 to 10, to test out the nerve receptors. Each test, the numbers on the chart went lower and lower; 10s that went to 9s, to the current lowest being a 6 for the majority of the subject’s body. The more sensitive areas, such as the frontal or the palmar of the body, were around 7 to 8 on the chart. Flipping to the back of the contents, there was a small note in Dr. Gaul’s handwriting.

Today, please take care of Project Prometheus’s nerve exams. The last surgical operation was done last month and they have just now fully recovered. Update the report by the end of today, to measure if there are any fluctuations on their pain receptors.

Sounded simple enough. If this was all he had to do today, then there was a chance he could clock out from work even earlier to give himself space before tonight’s event. A ding finally was heard from the elevator, he was here at Lab C09. Folder closed in his hands, his foot stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor. What a drastic difference Lab C09 had been in comparison to Lab H05. If it hadn’t belonged to Dr. Gaul, Coriolanus may not have been able to believe that this was an actual functioning lab. It almost seemed forgotten by the Citadel, half of the fluorescent lights not working, or blinking at different intervals. It bathed the floor in a very gray, almost vile green hue. The scent of copper and rust was far more noticeable, and the smell of medicine felt almost nauseous here. There were no grand columns in sight, and no endless amount of shelves dedicated to new specimens and ideas of creation. The floors were unkempt, specks of dirt packed into the corners of where the wall and once sleek tiles met. Occasional cracks on the floor, parts of the design broken and shattered into bits of ceramic. The halls were long, with endless doors that ( thankfully ) all were open, empty, or both. With the exception of the large corridor doors at the other end. He could make out the sight of Peacekeepers that stood on guard, near the corridor door and by the elevator entrance. 

This definitely was Dr. Gaul’s more… uncensored labs. 

Coriolanus took a few more steps into the lab and noticed the large stain of dried blood that dragged from where his feet stood, past the corridor doors. Eyebrows raised at the sight, but his eyes did not widen. Marvelous, the subject might still be rebellious. If this was to be the case, he’d be severely unimpressed. All these exams to change the NTRK1 and nothing done to affect the amygdala. 

Sloppy work here, Dr. Gaul. 

Pushing through the corridor doors, after giving the briefest of nods and acknowledgement towards the Peacekeepers, he found himself exactly where he needed to be. Entering an area that was entirely void of light, except for one thing. 

A large window glass on the other side, showing the examination room on the other side. It lit up this half of the hall, shelves of varying medicines and chemicals lined against the walls of the examination room. Surgical tools were lined up high on the wall, out of reach, not yet pulled out and placed on the side. Today there was no operation to be done. Examination lights shone overhead, and under it was the examination table where Project Prometheus sat. 

They sat down so compactly, so politely, knees folded to their chest and arms wrapped around them, their face leaned against the crevice their legs gave. The subject definitely had changed, physically, since the projects had begun. Their skin barely had the warm glow it had in their photo, had it not been for the peeks of color on their joints, he’d assume that there was no more blood rushing through their body. Their hair that once looked so well maintained, luxurious, was cut at awkward angles. Yet, it still managed to frame their face well enough. Figures, that was former Capital genes at work. Their body has taken significant damage since then. Scars of various shapes were scattered all across, bandages wrapped in some areas, and stitches that dragged around entire limbs, like their arms, thighs, feet, even one on their face. As if they were some over-played ragdoll that was patched up far too many times. There was no fight he could see from their eyes, and no anger. Was the blood on the floor halls really theirs, or did that belong to someone else?

This could not even be called anything, but a shell of a husk. 

Coriolanus stood there, watching, taking in the sight of them. It barely felt like he was breathing. And that alone irritated him. It’s like his body was trying to make itself seem smaller; as if he was somehow bothering them. He sighed out his frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. They couldn’t even hear him from the thick glass, what would he be so concerned with? Bringing his hand back down, about to open the manila folder once again to compare their ID photo to their current state - he peeked at their form again. 

He had been noticed by it. 

His breath felt lodged in his throat, his original action now tossed to the side, as they and him both just… watched each other. Their eyes that had looked so sullen and distant before, were so focused and vigilant of him. But, they didn’t seem scared of him. Their body didn’t look tense, their expression didn’t twist into any wrinkles. What feeling was running through their body? Could they possibly feel anything? Coriolanus stepped away from the glass, slowly, and down further into the hall, to where the door of their examination room was. A peacekeeper stood guard near the heavy door, beside them a surgical gown, cap, goggles and gloves were on a hook. Excusing the other to the side, so he could reach and grab the attire to put on himself. Coriolanus questioned, as he tugged the latex rubber gloves on, if he still wanted to entertain the idea of holding their test today. Teeth grinded inside his jaw, he hated to admit weakness, but it was no lie that they unsettled him when they had stared back. 

That probably contributed to why Dr. Gaul favored the project so much, both must take joy from bringing him such unease. A sigh hissed from his teeth, as he put the surgical mask on. 

“I’ll be back out in just a moment. I’ll let you know if an emergency comes up.” 

It’ll be easy work, and then he can leave.

Opening the door, the sterile smell of the room rushed past him as the metal door was moved from its tight seal and then closed heavily behind him. Their head had moved away from where the glass window was, turned to stare at where he stood near the door, their folder still in his hands. Thinly-veiled sweat was forming inside the gloves, with the silence that fell heavy in the room. He opened the folder. 

“Good morning, Subject A01, I am–”

…? 

Did they say something? 

“...I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Another tense silence fell in the air. 

“... That isn’t my name.” Its voice was quiet, slightly hoarse but not entirely. Unexpected, considering their length of stay here. His fingers pinched tightly at one of the pages. 

“...What do you mean?�� He was not going to call them by their Capital name. They had long since lost the right to use it, after rebelling against Panem. 

“Dr. Gaul calls me something else.” Coriolanus was going to kill it if they did not clarify. 

“And what does she call you?” This was the nicest tone he could muster. 

They spoke it once into the air, still looking at him with those dead eyes of theirs. Had Dr. Gaul been so fond of it to have given it an entirely new name? And they accepted and went along with it? That didn’t feel right, from what he’s examined about them so far. They were a rebel, they had fought against a Peacekeeper, they were dragged around the halls bleeding. 

And they gave up their old name?

It had shifted out of its cradled position, their legs dangled off the examination table and their arms were placed on their side. Coriolanus could see the patient gown they wore more clearly. It kicked its feet in the air idly, as it waited for his response. 

… Do they even know the situation that they’re in? 

“...Right. Well, do you know why I’m here?” 

“Not really. I’ve never met you before.” Was context clues also something it gave up while in captivity? “I know the guards, and I know Dr. Gaul. I don’t think I know about you,” They’re a prisoner, it’d be counter-intuitive if people were giving them info about every single staff member here. His mask covered the lower half of his face, but he hoped the slight shift of facial muscle was enough to convey that was trying to smile towards them. He walked further into the examination room, closer to where it sat and where the shelves of drugs and medical equipment were lined up. Their stare was burrowing holes into his back, while he shifted around, opening and closing shelves and drawers to check inside for what he needed. 

“Well, I am Dr. Gaul’s assistant. You can call me Snow,” He was not giving his first name to a former rebel. “I’m here today because Dr. Gaul is a bit busy today to handle your check-up, so I’ll be filling in her role.” Gloves shifted bottles around, turning them around to read the labels. The disinfectant, cotton swabs, tweezers, needles, rubbing alcohol, syringes, the bite-rag, marker, he had it all except the custom medicine that Dr. Gaul had made for it. In the instructions of how to construct their exam, Dr. Gaul had explicitly mentioned that they were to take specific medication, as they had helped keep it conscious at all times for operations and exams. It was needed so that they’d be able to relay the ratings, which is why Coriolanus was reading yet another prescription bottle in his hands, squinting in frustration. 

“It’s this bottle over here.” 

A delicate, scarred hand had pointed at another bottle that sat idly on the shelf. Coriolanus turned his head slightly, seeing the subject no longer on the examination table, standing behind him quietly. Not staring at him, they were entirely looking at where their hand pointed. They were only standing just a couple inches away from his body, careful not to touch him as they stood on the tips of their toes to point at the medicine. With this proximity, it was easier for him to get a closer look at them. The stitches on its body were done with thick, prominent threads; there were far more beauty marks he could pick out on their face that the photos didn’t display. The patient gown was made from a material far thinner than he expected, a visible silhouette could be seen from underneath the flimsy cloth. His mouth felt unusually dry. 

A cold chill trickled down his spine. He barely noticed them. He doesn’t even think it made a sound when it moved. 

“Careful, keep your space from me.” He spoke, a careful warning to their ears and a threatening promise on his. He didn’t want to risk being so close to them like this, he barely knew the extent of how violent the project could possibly be yet. Still, they listened, backing away from him and putting their hand back down to their side. Both it and him stared at each other again, the tense air dancing back inside the room. They looked as if they had wanted to say something, and Coriolanus, internally, felt almost violent for how demure they were being with him. It repulsed him, how it felt almost endearing if he looked at them for a second more. 

“Is something wrong?” Eventually he bit the bullet, speaking first between the two of them. He can’t bear another moment of silence with it. 

“... I don’t need a bite-rag. I don’t think I really scream much anymore.” They still had an issue with explaining context to him more, he’ll tell Dr. Gaul that needed some work lat– His jaw ticked… Why did he care about your abysmal social skills? It was a captive, it had no one to speak to other than their own captors. Pulling down their prescription from the shelf, a dark, thick liquid, he said in return: “It’s best to have it on hand, just in case you need it. Now, return back to the examination table.” For a split second, he thought he could see their gaze soften at him. Were they seriously entertaining the idea that he was being nice to them? Coriolanus just didn’t want to deal with their sounds while he worked. It’d be like trading one screaming fit for another, for when he had to go on his date with Livia later in the evening. 

They nodded, and followed his command, walking back to sit on top of it. Their body was sitting in his direction though, observing, waiting for him. Coriolanus still felt unsure about them, but… it was strange, their obedience. It made him suspicious of its intent with all this. Trailing back to the center of the examination room, he placed all the tools on a metal tray. Pulling out an exam stool from under one of the tables, he set the syringe to the cap of its prescription. He pulled the plunger of the syringe up, watching as the barrel filled up with medicine, until it sat nicely. The needle left smoothly from the cap, and a drop of the liquid dangled at the edge of it. This form of silence he liked far more better. 

“...Do you have family, Dr. Snow?” 

So close. Coriolanus flicked the needle harshly, the drop hitting somewhere else. He placed the ready syringe down, and picked up the black marker. Turning back towards them, their head rested in their palms, watching him intensely. 

“That’s none of your concern. Now please, remove your gown so we can get started on the examination.” Grabbing the stool to pull it underneath him, he got comfortable in the seat while it moved to get up. As their hands reached behind them to undo the tie around their waist first, it still spoke ( much to his chagrin ). 

“I was just wondering since Dr. Gaul usually talks whenever she comes to visit.” That explained why their throat was not as hoarse as he was expecting. Dr. Gaul was treating her trials with them as a morning brunch. “She sometimes talks about her day, or talks about her family.” They loosened the tie around their waist, the fabric more flowy around their lower body. Coriolanus stared intently, taking in the first peek of skin. Looking past the scars, despite the stitches pulling at parts of their skin, and the dented scars, their skin looked soft, malleable. They must’ve been popular on weekend nights, back then. Their hands reached up to undo the tie around their collar. Rather than watching him while he worked, it was his turn to watch them. There was that beauty mark on their left acromial. Eyes leisurely trailed back up to their fingers, the smallest note with how it fumbled around behind them to untie the flimsy string. Their movements were clumsy, in his eyes, which almost surprised him. “She likes to talk about her three kids often.”

Coriolanus looked away from their stitched fingers, confusion on his face. 

“Dr. Gaul only has two kids.” He’s seen the photos she has in her office. She has two sons, both who have gone on to have families of their own. Not once has she mentioned a third kid, Coriolanus isn’t even sure it was possible at her age. Didn’t menopause usually affect a person’s chances of getting pregnant? Maybe it was a secret child she had abandoned at the maternal ward while dropping off her resignation as an obstetrician. 

“No, she has three. She told me their names: Caius, Martius, and Coriolanus.” 

Oh. 

Oh, now that’s… 

“I see. You must be closer to Dr. Gaul than I am.” 

He didn’t know what to really say to that. There was really nothing for him to go and argue about, especially with the patient. Coriolanus couldn’t quite outright say that the third child was him, especially when he specifically told them to refer to him by his last name. And if he revealed that this was an entire lie on Dr. Gaul’s end, he wasn’t quite sure how the woman would react for doing so. It wasn’t his place, when he had no idea what Gaul had wanted to achieve. He understood the physical punishment and hypothesis being put upon Project Prometheus, but he had yet to understand where the emotional, and the mental, aspect of this punishment was. Dr. Gaul will tell him if it was needed, or he’ll figure it out based on his own conclusions. That must be one of the purposes Dr. Gaul had assigned this task to him. 

“Alright. I’m done.”

Coriolanus blinked. He didn’t even realize he lost focus on them, he let out a small exhale as he lifted himself from the exam stool, marker ready in hand. 

“Right, for the next step of this exam, I need to…” 

Words trailed off for him. 

What an entirely different view it was, from before, looking at them only from the back. From behind, it was just read to him as a large canvas of skin that had already been stained and painted on. Nothing that gave way to what person under the flesh could be. Yet, the front… There was more to regard and take note of, a far more different feeling than just having viewed from the photos alone in the reports. If he were to ignore the marks left on their body, had they stayed perfect from before, he could’ve made the argument about their body being more alluring than the average Capital citizen. That familiar, dry feeling touched his throat again. What a waste, for genes like that to be wasted on a rebel. There were more beauty marks and moles in the front, along with more stitches and scars. Coriolanus could see the surgical scars that were healing between their pectoralis major area. A curiosity rose, questioning how scarred tissue would feel under his gloves. He raised an eyebrow, as his gaze dared to move to a lower section on their body. Must be for easier mapping, that Dr. Gaul decided it was best to have their pubic area shaved clean.

“...Dr. Snow, are you okay?”

His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips under the surgical mask. 

“Fine, just thinking about Dr. Gaul’s instructions.” He was going to go insane before he could even head to the fundraiser tonight. Coriolanus reached his free hand out, hovering it over their shoulder area, guiding them to stand closer to the area between the exam table, and his stool. He took note, that despite the way their body has changed since their captivity, their body still held a warmth that radiated off from their skin. “Stand here, please. For this next step, I’ll be using this marker here to map out the different muscles and areas on your body. Are you familiar with this?”

The subject nodded, a yes from their lips. 

Good. 

The sound of the marker cap popping off filled in the lack of words on Coriolanus’s part, the black cap falling on the tiled floor and rolling off to a dark, distant corner of the room. “For today, we’ll only be focusing on the external pain chart. Meaning skin surface only,” He lifted the subject’s hair, pushing up against the subject’s head, strands that were long enough to block full access to the neck. Bringing the marker up, he pressed down the chiseled tip of alcoholic ink on the subject’s skin, making the first section of dotted lines. Writing on their skin in careful, small letters, the areas that compromised their neck; the semispinalis capitis, the levator scapulae, the rhomboid minor–

“How long have you worked for Dr. Gaul?”

Fingers nearly stumbled in drawing when the muscle stretched in movement, he lifted the marker carefully away from its skin. The idea of putting in Gaul’s suggestion box the order of a mouth gag was becoming all the more tempting to him. 

“It doesn’t concern you.” Coriolanus responded, coolly. 

He pressed the marker back down on its skin, moving himself to the anterior of its body. Between his gloved fingers, he held their chin. The muscle limp in his hands, letting him lift their chin up to show more, exposing the unfolded expanse of their skin. The project was an annoying one, but at the least,they were a pliant one. The black dotted lines drew itself across the subject��s body: the sternocleidomastoid, the sternohyoid–

“How has your day been so far, Dr. Snow?”

Would Dr. Gaul throw him to the curb if he strangled one of her projects?

Coriolanus lifted himself slightly from his leaned down angle, his fingers that once lifted its chin up, had pulled their chin back down to look at him eye to eye. Its gaze stared back at him with such emptiness, a lack of anything to be seen, no anger, no defiance, no discomfort, not even joy. His eyebrows narrowed down slightly as he took in the face that held no question to how, and what, manner he held their body in. Were they trying to please him? Make his guard drop down by asking questions, hoping that he’d become more sympathetic towards them? 

“Dr. Gaul isn’t here. You are under no requirement to attempt conversations like you’ve done with her.” He spoke, trying his best attempt at sounding sympathetic to their ears. That would be the easiest explanation. The soul of them was sucked out by Dr. Gaul forcing them into an illusion of a grotesque socialite. That’d explain away the project’s incessant speaking. 

Yet, the subject had tilted their head under his fingers. The slightest push against his grasp. 

“... Do you not like talking, Dr. Snow? Dr. Gaul always looks so happy when she’s talking.”

So they were trying to suck up to him. He locked his teeth. And to think, he was giving them a chance of redemption, by assuming that they had been conditioned to engage in meaningless conversation. Maybe he was wrong about their obedience. There was still a spark of a rebel within them regardless of their time, their experiences, in captivity. 

“I only ever see Dr. Gaul, so I got excited to see someone new. I’m sorry for upsetting you,”

They could’ve fooled him with that tone of voice. They sounded as dead as their eyes had looked. Yet, Coriolanus bit his bottom lip as the doubt touched his head; the subject’s stare, if he gazed deeply enough he felt as if he could almost make out a sullenness to them. Were they legitimately apologetic? He didn’t want to even know the answer, he just wanted to finish this job as quickly as possible. He let go of their chin, releasing it. Gloved fingers now traced the space between their shoulder and collarbone, the subject angling their neck to the other side to give him room. He brought the marker back down to their skin, more dotted lines appearing under his wake. 

“... What exactly is your relationship to Dr. Gaul, if I may ask?” He hated them, he decided. He hated how quickly they managed to rope him into this dumb small talk. It was almost audible, the sound of the subject blinking, feeling their gaze boring under the layers of his clothes. Did he say the wrong thing? Did they not want conversation? He adjusted the weight of his stance, uncomfortable under the silence the subject had unwillingly placed him in. Was he not doing what they wanted, was that not enough for them?

“Dr. Gaul is…” Their words trailed off. They were trying to find the words, unsure of what to say to him. They most likely didn’t want to try and insult her, considering her assistant was in the room with them. They don’t want to risk possibly earning more punishment. Project Prometheus may have been smarter than what he initially assumed. Coriolanus moved back to the posterior, hands trailed themselves across the subject’s shoulders, feeling, to remind him of the muscle underneath before he marked it down. Trapezius. 

“Dr. Gaul is my caretaker, I think.” 

Well isn’t that something unique. 

If the subject had decided to say captor, overseer, punisher, he wouldn’t have cared. It would’ve been honest. Caretaker? That was something different, that was something sympathetic. The thought of them turning this twisted dynamic into something heartfelt, fell sour on his tongue. It made him feel repulsion towards them. Why bother to lie? “Tell me about that.” His voice was soft, inviting the project to open themselves to him. As the marker continued to mark their skin, Coriolanus took one of its arms under his hand. The subject’s fingers twitched slightly, when he brought his hand under theirs. Their hand was not that big in comparison to his own, unable to fully fill out of his palm. The fingertips were usually the more sensitive parts, when it came to sensations. He hummed. Adductor pollicis. 

“...I’m not sure how to describe it well.” They sounded unsure. Spending this extended amount of time with them, Coriolanus could make out the slight tonal differences they had in their voice. It was very small, though. The muscles in his hands seem to slightly tense.

“Do your best for me.” 

Their fingertips, the slightly yellowed nails, tapped slightly at the latex material of his gloves. Almost as if fidgeting to gather the words, the right ones, to say to him. 

“Dr. Gaul has always been… someone there, I suppose.” Because she has to. “The guards are there too, but they don’t really notice me in the way Dr. Gaul does.” He wrote down on another part of the subject’s arm, drawing another dotted line. Brachioradialis. “Even though the tests kind of hurt, but I’m getting used to it now, she’s been the only one so far to give me a name, a birthday, check up on me, tell me about her day,” He was almost impressed at how their were trying to upsell the ‘normalcy’ of their captivity. A new name and birthday? Maybe the secret third child of Dr. Gaul wasn’t him, but actually them instead. He almost laughed aloud at the prospect of it. Coriolanus turns to the other side of their body, taking the other arm of the subject to write on after finishing the other. Biceps brachii. “That’s like a caretaker, right?” And now it was asking for his confirmation? It truly does want to appease him. He let out another hum, as if he was thinking to himself when he was going to go along with their delusions. “It sounds like Dr. Gaul cares a great deal for you.” He lied to them. 

Making his back to the anterior of the subject’s body, he stood in front of them, the subject tilting their head up to him. Project Prometheus was shorter, in comparison to him, standing at eye level against his chest. Latex touched the area of the linea alba, Coriolanus kept his gaze steady on them and they did the same. There was a silence that fell between them, but it felt so uninviting to him now that he finally had it. The subject still held their indifference, their apathy, and he wanted to know why it bothered him so much when he should like how easy of a prisoner they were being. No, there had to be something more. There was always something more. His fingers dragged down their skin, and his marker followed behind, writing down the names of the muscles he touched. The subject had moved their arms, and Coriolanus tensed for a second, thinking they were finally going to react, going to grab him, hit him, something – yet, their arms shifted away from the angle of his body, moving in to hold the muscles of the pectoralis major up in their hands, cupping them. They were making more room for him to write on their upper abdomen. 

Coriolanus loathed them. 

Had he had half the control, he would’ve smacked the stitched hands away. He liked it far more when they acted like a ragdoll, instead of this game of pacification it was trying to play. Writing down on the external oblique aponeurosis, he brought his hands back up their skin until it rested under their wrists. He held both their wrists on either hand. “Please, bring your hands down so I can continue mapping.” The words came out more as a whisper than he had intended. They instantly had listened to his command, letting their arms fall back on either side and their chest exposed to him. His eyes lingered briefly on the sight, taking in the small details that made the subject unique. The beauty mark on their left mammary gland, now in his line of sight. No longer blocked by the limit of only just a photo. There was that dry feeling in his mouth again. 

Carefully, bringing a hand up, gauging their reaction, he held one of the mammary glands in his free hand and a marker up in the other. Judging their face, they seemed neutral, no frown or smile, no wrinkle, no squint. He could assume there must have been discomfort under those dark pits for eyes. He knew that’s what he felt, doing this right now. Coriolanus wondered if it would have been better or worse, if Project Prometheus were to be more… reactionary. 

“Let me know if anything bothers you.” Dotted lines followed after his hand. He’d take it, the laborious small talk. It was much more preferred right now than this tortuous silence that had fallen between them. Thick and constricting, had it gone on any longer, Coriolanus knew he would drive himself internally insane if he was to be left alone to his own thoughts. If Project Prometheus had done nothing while he was holding onto their very own breasts in his hands. Had it been any other person, they would’ve squirmed under his touch. Possibly even a twitch to unconsciously move away, as the marker moved against the skin of the areola. The mapping of the right gland was dotted and marked completely. 

“You don’t bother me.” 

Now, that felt deliberate. 

Ink halted, stopping after writing out the final letter of the pectoralis minor. The words were written next to the beauty mark he had noted before. Coriolanus was tempted to make dotted lines around the area, as a place of special interest, though marks like these were no major muscle or nerve. Blue eyes had looked up through thick lashes, he slightly lifted his craned head up to get a better look at the subject. Peering towards their face, he didn’t know why he expected anything different. It was the same look of disinterest, the broken lights hung above them casted a haunting shadow over their face. Did he also look similar, when they stared back at him? In certain angles, despite the unnerving look the room had given them, Coriolanus might’ve thought their eyes seemed naturally soft towards him. Innocent, maybe. 

Did they see nothing wrong with what he was doing? … Or had all the tests and operations ruined not just their nerves, but fried them, that their sense of danger seemed near non-existent? 

Was this another form of appeasement that it was trying to pull on him? 

Unconsciously, his hands had released themselves, finally, from holding onto Project’s Prometheus’s breasts. Both now marked, his free hand slid down the expanse of their abdomen. The ridges and bumps of their scars and stitches were felt briefly, the full grasp of the sensation blocked by the barrier of latex rubber wrapped around his fingers. Not once did he look away from the subject as his hands made its way down, and neither did Project Prometheus. His hand stopped at the tensor fasciae latae. Something was wrapping itself around the cavity of his chest, making the activity of breathing a difficult feat for him to do. Coriolanus didn’t know what he was doing. Was he trying to garner a bigger reaction from it? An attempt of possibly stirring violence, even? 

Maybe it was delaying his own discomfort, he realized. Looking down, he stared to see the spread of skin below that had no splotches of black ink. They were shorter than him, he’d have to get down on his knees if he wanted to have clear and easy access to mark its legs. How humiliating… Having risen up through the ranks and bringing the Snow family back to its rightful place of acclaim and fortune; only to fall back down on his knees to a prisoner, a former rebel. If the other families caught wind of this, he’d never hear the end of it. 

Reluctantly, still holding onto their hip, his body moved itself to the floor. Knees touched against the uneven grout of the tiles, the position a bit awkward. He was thankful, for the surgical gown he wore, that the vile floor of the examination room wouldn’t stain against his clothes. Tracing his hand down to the stitch mark path of their leg, he rested it at the back of their thigh. Coriolanus tilted his head up, ready to command that Project Prometheus moved their leg more towards him. But, his words fell into a silent, held breath as he gazed up at them from his position. The shadow that had cascaded over their face briefly from before was now entirely enveloped around their body. Sickly green fluorescent lights shone above their head, akin to a haloing effect. Illuminated around the edges of their body, their hair, the subject still looking at him. Only him, and nothing else. A thrumming noise was loud in his ears; it felt dangerous. It felt like a warning that something was wrong here. He had felt it before.

Project Prometheus moved its leg forward, more into him, without a word ever spoken between the two of them. How pliant it was with him. 

He pressed the marker against their skin as thank you, dipping his head back down to their thigh. It would be risky, if he lost focus. There was still so much he had yet to know of the subject, the layers that were contained behind the flimsy shield of flesh and tissue. He dotted the area of the vastus medialis, careful not to press the ink against the subject’s stitches so as not to irritate the healing skin there. Maybe its attempts of appeasement were working on him. Not once did he think he’d have a shred of enough care to think about the possibility of ink seeping into their wounds. 

He marked down the region of the knee. Patella. 

“...You’re a very gentle person, Dr. Snow.” The subject spoke quietly, in a whisper just loud for him to hear. “You treat me so carefully, I barely feel a thing when you hold me.” 

It mistook his lightweight hands for kindness. Reality was that he was just wary about setting them off. 

“Does Dr. Gaul not treat you in the same manner?” The words came out softly from him. Reaching now the ankle of the subject, gloved hands reached down underneath the sole of its foot, lifting it up for better writing access. Instinctively, Project Prometheus placed their hands on either side of his shoulders so as to not fall. Their body leaned itself more into him, using him as a steady weight of support. The proximity of their small body bent over his, the glare of the fluorescent lights was entirely swallowed up, casting a dark shadow over him, blocking the light from reaching him. Could they feel, under their ragged fingers, the tenseness in his body at their action? If the subject wanted to, they could easily go in to attack him in this vulnerable position. He’d do the same if he was in their position. He continued to write, marker steady in hand. There would be no satisfaction to be gained for the subject, in seeing him stumble and cower. 

He wrote the words ‘abductor hallucis’ on their foot.

“She… does not treat me rough, no. If I had to describe it, I think the word for it is more… ‘inanimate’.” He doesn’t quite recall if a new law was passed that required captors to treat prisoners humanely. It sounded as if it was trying to recall certain words again. Should the exam go entirely smoothly with no problems, he might feel generous enough to convince Dr. Gaul to bring Project Prometheus a dictionary for them to study up on. Not like it would do much. It wasn’t like they had anyone to really practice their knowledge on. 

Coriolanus wondered what the prisoner was exactly before all this, back when they were formerly Capital. They lacked the air of dignity and ignorance that most Capital elites donned well, but maybe that could be attributed to their decay while staying here. Or perhaps the prisoner had come from a small, simple family. The kind that handled all the manual labor that the Capital never liked to speak loud about. The workers who were hardly ever seen, or acknowledged. That could explain why he never heard any recent fuss over a family’s child being ‘sent away’. No one would ever care for a background prop. 

It held onto his shoulders more tightly, as he adjusted the subject’s position. It didn’t want to topple over him. 

Project Prometheus's right foot now marked accordingly, he placed its foot back down on the rotten floor. Ready to reach his hand to hold onto their left, the subject moved without the need for his touch. The left leg was gestured forward for him. How sweet of them to realize a pattern. “I don’t mind it, though. As long as she still talked to me.” How fascinating. The subject was pacified by the easy act of conversation. Such a simple thing to be pleased by, Coriolanus could think they were joking. Regardless of how things were going so far, he still didn’t forget it. The bloodstains on the halls was something he could not erase so easily. That suggested, no, it told him, that Project Prometheus had something up their sleeve still. Though, nothing had occurred. Nothing had happened because they were still speaking to each other. Coriolanus continued to write on its foot. Lumbrical.

“...Do you get upset if she doesn’t speak to you?” 

He couldn’t help but ask. 

He wanted to know. He needed to know. 

“...I get lonely, and sad.” Was it trying to downplay its emotional reactions to him? “I wonder if it's because I did something wrong to upset her.” If a prisoner of his tried to fight back numerous times during their captivity, he’d get annoyed too. It was strange, though. Coriolanus knew that morals and values were of no concern for Dr. Gaul, especially against rebels. Any torture, punishment, placed on them was not seen as being done onto another person, but just another animal, a specimen in her collection. It would not be above Dr. Gaul to cut off a limb, or two, to get a prisoner to stop fighting. So… why not do the same here? Perhaps, this form of mental and emotional punishment was more lethal than he assumed. Another curious test from the mad woman, it was impossible to ever understand her whims. 

“Sometimes, I think it might be one of her tests.”

Coriolanus didn’t say those words. 

He didn’t like this. Such a statement, spoken so simply, brought him a sick swirl of unease. 

The movement of ink had halted, yet his mind continued to race. The thin hairs at the back of his neck stood at its ends, and he held tightly onto the marker in his hand. Quietly, carefully, he placed the plantar surface of Project Prometheus’s foot back down on the uneven tiles below the both of them. Reaching his hands up to his shoulders, where the subject’s extensor retinaculum were, he held onto it firmly. The subject put up no sign of objection. Sweat was slowly building up under the tight material of the gloves he donned on, but it was not a sweltering warmth. It was a cold, clammy sensation. 

“What do you mean by ‘one of her tests’?” Punctuating the words at the end, he kept his tone inquisitive, curious. Perhaps, a dabble of suspicion. Not towards the subject, but more towards the matter. What was needed in this situation was caution, and he’d be a gutted fool if he was to let the rebel become aware of how much the question startled him to his core. For right now, he’d play the gentle, confused assistant that it assumed of him before. He already told the lie of it knowing Dr. Gaul better than he did. 

“Her tests,” 

It spoke as if he knew! He knew very well what it was. What once was a flash of fear, had become a steady stream of anger. He knew because he is Dr. Gaul’s assistant. It was his job to follow in the steps she’s placed out for him, and more. Why would a prisoner, a subject, know about the ways Dr. Gaul operated? How much does Dr. Gaul tell it in these ‘conversations’? 

It made him sick, that the lie he told before could actually become true. 

“I never notice it until it’s done, until she tells me at the end. She never shares the results with me.” For once, he is tempted to strip his pride and beg for more details. “Most days, it’ll be physical tests, like today. Others, it’s more… talking, or writing.” 

“Writing?” 

It came out quickly before he could properly think his words over. He doesn’t recall seeing possible writing exams in Subject A01’s report. To be fair to himself, he did skim it briefly since he was only just now introduced to the project. There wasn’t much time for him to familiarize himself with all the tiny details written inside. At least, the things that were legible. 

“Dr. Gaul hands me scraps of paper and just asks me to write what I think. Like uh, a journal…I guess.” Keeping a diary couldn’t be the only test Dr. Gaul was having it do. If writing random streams of thought was enough to be intellectually challenging, he wouldn’t be seeing students at the University fighting to win passing grades. “I don’t understand the reason why, and I never remember what I write. My memory is not the best.” It was giving him an excuse to try and shift the conversation. How funny it was, trying to take control of the situation. He’d never let such a thing happen. In this examination room, there was only one person and a subject, the dynamic that was at play was clear. The grip Coriolanus had on their extensor retinaculum tightened, an unconscious movement on his part. Project Prometheus had taken in a soft breath of air at the action, the sound loud enough between the both of them. Had it not come from a prisoner, what a sweet sound it could’ve been. 

“Could you explain it to me,” His voice came out softly, despite the gnawing irritation that he held back. The tight grasp he had loosened, one hand stroking down a careful thumb down the stitched wrist of the subject in gentle circles. He shifted in his kneeled position, adjusting to a more comfortable weight as the layers he wore started to wear at him, an uncomfortable shift. Wearing the surgical uniform could be sweltering. Tilting his head up slightly to gaze up at the subject, praying that his eyes did not betray and reveal his inner thoughts. “Try to remember.” 

Coriolanus could’ve sworn he saw a slight falter, a tremble, in the dark optics of Project Prometheus. Its supercilium furrowed just the slightest inch upwards; did it look apologetic? The first visible change of expression he’s witnessed in the time he’s spent here in this examination room, and it’s one of regret. The subject’s fingers twisted itself into the fabric of his surgical gown, opening its mouth partially as they sought the right sound, the right word. He could make out the faint peeks of its canines. 

“... I’m sorry, Dr. Snow. I can’t remember at all,” They breathed out, in admission, surrendering. It treated it as a guilty confession. 

“Not a thing?” He whispered softly to them, prompting them to speak more. Coriolanus applauded himself internally, for how sympathetic he sounded. 

The subject shook its head. 

“My memory is not good.” Again, it reaffirmed its previous statement. 

Was his question that hard? Surely, specks of small details, flashes of imagery, that would be sufficient enough of an answer for him. He wasn’t asking for a full essay of their inner workings ( though, he wouldn’t mind it ). However, as both their eyes continued locked in a stare, his thumb slowed its movements. The leathered finger stopping at the center junction of its stitches, the feel of the raised, textured skin apparent under the feel of the material. Project Prometheus was being sincere. Its face hadn’t changed, its body had not moved away from him. Dare he say, the minimal space between them; something he did not mind earlier before, had become much more apparent in his feverish mind. The subject answered him so honestly, it made his suspicions of before seem so ridiculous now. One thing did nag at him though, the writing, the insistence of journaling, the memory. 

…

“... Do you remember how long you’ve been here?” Two years ago, Coriolanus recalled. Two years ago, that was when he was abandoned in District 12. When Dr. Gaul had started the experiment on Subject A01, busying herself with curiosities while he was drowning himself in depravities and vices, waiting out like a dog for some form of mercy to reach him. 

A new, tense silence consumed them both. He watched the subject carefully, taking note of the slightest movement that could give any indication of anything more. Tracing with his eyes, following how Project Prometheus’s cuspid snagged at their chapped bottom lip. A faint flush of red spread across the muscle, from the pressure exerted on it. Unconsciously, it reminded him of how dry his own mouth felt, the hoarse sensation in his throat. He darted out his own tongue for a brief moment to wet his own mouth, hidden underneath the surgical mask he wore. Nothing was being said between them, but yet there was so much being told. A fierce feeling was soaring, running through the veins of Coriolanus; he knew what it meant and he feared for it. Not for what the answer could be, but what it possibly could bring up. 

“You don’t remember how you got it here at all, do you?” His voice was so hushed, spoken as if taboo. It gave him the same feeling of it, the rush as the blood was entering his head and his heartbeat loud in his ears. 

A form of dissociative amnesia. 

Project Prometheus had developed gaps in memory due to an extended amount of isolation and exposure to severe trauma. It all clicked in Coriolanus’s head. He understood now what Dr. Gaul was attempting to achieve in her games with the subject. The tests, the daily conversations, the journal writing – Dr. Gaul was examining the subject’s mental decay as part of the Project’s ongoing research. Not only has the woman deteriorated and changed the way the prisoner’s nerves had worked, but their mind as well. Is continuing the Project even viable to do anymore? It was a form of punishment. Would it be ethical to operate on a being of flesh, when the subject no longer knew what it was being punished for? The question would most likely give Dr. Gaul a kick of joy. She loved to ponder questions worthy of debate. Coriolanus wouldn’t put it past the woman if she already gave the inquiry out to one of her classes in a lecture hall. 

“I vaguely do,” 

His eyebrows rose in interest. 

“But only in subtle feelings.” 

Nevermind. 

“I think I experienced some form of confusion. And bits of anger, too. Dr. Gaul… For a moment, I used to be so scared of her. Now, I can’t even remember the reason why.” 

Project Prometheus’s indifference, Coriolanus realized, it was not just solely based on apathy. What had become of it was a blank state, unsure of how to process things so the mind refused to process it all. But, it was still something highly susceptible to influences, shown in how Project Prometheus had become conditioned like Pavolv Dog, to associate Dr. Gaul’s silence with anger and disappointment, and her socialness with satisfaction and joy. It all was dawning on him. He could see it now, why Dr. Gaul was so disturbingly fascinated by this project. Gloved hands moved away from the subject’s wrist, and reached out to lay in gentle manner against the side of their bare thighs. The subject allowed him to, never raising a sign of objection. Could he teach it to experience anger once more, when he treated their body like this? Maybe discomfort, disgust, despair - he wanted to show their blank canvas of a mind what it felt like to fully immerse themselves in these ugly emotions. He knew why they were like this, but there still was a lingering crumb of vexation directed at the subject. Somehow, in their newfound state, they still felt far more free than he ever did; how they almost felt nothing, and he had to feel everything. 

And yet, there was another thought that touched him. He wondered, if he spent enough time with the subject, could he too, be able to condition them to other things. They thought of him as merciful, kind, in comparison to Dr. Gaul. Could he make Project Prometheus worship him, and in the same quiet breaths they were fond of, resent him? The thought of making them accustomed to anticipating his attendance, and lamenting his absence sounded tempting. 

How nice it would be, to have someone other than a deranged crone enjoy his presence. 

Tigris certainly didn’t anymore. 

Coriolanus rose himself from the ground, gripping on the meat of Project’s Prometheus’s flesh to lift him. Under his touch, the pliant stretch of skin and tissue made the subject remove their hands from his shoulders. Another faint breath escaped their exhale. It was a sound he was slowly getting used to. Back to their original height difference, he no longer had to crane his head up to look at the subject. The subject had to lift their head up to look up at him, now. What did Project Prometheus see, in their gaze as they stared at him, Coriolanus thought. Was he too, consumed in shadow and bathed under the gritty lights of the examination room like they once had? 

“We’re done with the mark-up.” It took him a moment to move away from the subject. “We’ll move to holding the nerve exam now, after I administer a low dosage of your medication.” 

The uncapped, black marker was placed back down on the metal tray, aside from the examination table. Replacing its empty space was now the syringe he had filled out before, the dark color swishing as he picked it up. The needle gleamed under the fluorescent light. Turning his back around, Project Prometheus had already sat themselves up nicely on the edge of the examination table for him. Their legs dangled off, their hands held at the edges of the worn-out leather cushion, eyes fixated on his person. They were waiting for him. He’s almost bothered, how easily the subject could anticipate his next set of commands. He hoped that this was just due to routine, not because he had become easy to read. Coming up to meet them there, the only sound that filled the air was the sole of his shoes stepping against the tiles. Gloved fingers reached to grab at the jaw of Project Prometheus, the syringe held close to their face. It shone particularly brilliant, mere inches away from their face. The subject showed him no fear, no resistance, despite the way the skin of the cheeks had moved under his grasp. 

Already, he wanted to break them.

“Show me where to inject you.” 

He’d be sweet, Coriolanus would let them pick where it was most comfortable for him to inject the medication in. Project Prometheus complied immediately to him, holding on the hand that held their needle to adjust the position. They guided him to the back of their neck, moving their hair to make space. To reward their compliance, he pricked the syringe quickly under the skin, careful not to touch an artery or nerve. The dark liquid inside the barrel slowly filled out, emptying itself as he pushed the plunger down. The subject did not let out a sound, a favorable contrast to Livia, who waited for him outside these Citadel walls. 

He was going to mold them into something useful.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #thg fic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #volumnia gaul #tw medical #medical horror #fanfic #.// ♡ basil's archive #. // ♡ rubatosis series #its insane how much i wrote for this first chapter lmao #its like 30 pages on google docs #i am obsessed with this man #i really wanted this chapter to be a focus of snow & reader building their dynamic and bond before we jump off the deep end #i am really excited to write the coming chapters

[leopardom]

not a single thought behind those eyes

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #tw // flashing #leopardom gifs #series: the google drive vol.6

[lover-of-mine]

911 Hiatus Rewatch and:

Municipal Vehicles Damaged or Destroyed on the Show Count, lightning round: 9 and 10

Battalion's Chief Truck Destroyed and Fire Engine Damaged in Survivors.

#911 #911edit #911hiatus2023 #911 abc #911 fox #my edit #911hiatuscars #flashing tw #usercam #im starting to resent this series #i really am #is there any more damages that involve one of them almost dying? #this was supposed to be funny #not for me to post this looking like this emoji 🫥🫥🫥 #also why is it always buck or eddie #the ambulance the bombing the tsunami eddie begins here #jesus get them away from the vehicles sokasokaoskas #also this had me googling like crazy thing to figure out what's the name of that truck sokaoskaoksoaskas #ugh #911verse

[n0brainjustvibes]

So, returning to wormblogging... here's an old power/character concept. It's a bit out there, and on the high end of the power scale, since it's from my early wormfan days. Fearscapes Shaker/Trump.

Power encompasses a specific area (fixed radius)

Can manipulate the area based on the worst fears of everyone inside the area.

In practice, this is kinda like gaining new Shaker abilities on the fly - hence, Trump rating.

The powers are very up to interpretation, basically whatever the Shard desires - although, if the same person enters the area twice without having undergone Character Development TM, the power gained will be the same. The powers are also allegorical representations of the fear, not just literal manifestations - they don't get kill-aura if someone's worst fear is death.

Examples:

Character A's fear was relapsing in an eating disorder; fearscape power was casting illusions of necrosis and decomposition in people's flesh. This typically causes people to scratch and mutilate themselves, trying to get rid of the diseased flesh.

Character B's fear was losing touch with reality (she had psychosis and a Thinker power that played into it in... fun ways); fearscape power was LITERAL REALITY MANIPULATION. (Basically Labyrinth.)

The Fearscape Shaker tried to kidnap Character B to keep her in range, so they could continue having reality manipulation on hand.

Another fun detail is that characters were sometimes more resistant to their own fear-powers at first, if the fears were something they'd developed coping strategies for. Character B was more used to navigating altered realities, Character A was already prepared for some body horror shit. It tends to wear you down over time, though.

If I brought the power back, I'm not sure how hard I'd lean in to illusion creation vs. actual new powers. I wanted some fearscapes to have physical effects (if Character A's fear didn't have the element of "I'm afraid I'll harm myself", the maggots and decomposition and whatnot would've probably been real)... and you can never tell which! :)

#powergen #wormblr #idk what to tag this as #worm oc #? #parahumans oc #parahumans #ed mention #lmk if you think this needs a tw for any of the fearscapes #fearscape is not a reference to the book series (googled it and apparently there's a book series) just a random Fear+Landscape portmanteau #vibes ocs

[hella1975]

is aftg actually worth reading? every fan I've seen describes it like this

it is not at all worth reading the writing is bad the plot is bad the characters are problematic the triggers are handled poorly you should absolutely read it

#will i ever actively recommend it? no #did i reread it myself several times and have no regrets upon finding it? yes #it's one of them 'go into it with your eyes wide open' series #and once you accept that it's shit you can enjoy the not-shit parts #i really dont know how else to explain bestie sdkghjkdhg #JUST GOOGLE THE TWS THOUGH BC LIKE I SAID NOT ONLY IS IT CHOCK FULL OF THEM #BUT THEY'RE VERY GRAPHIC AND PROBLEMATIC AT TIMES #like you have never seen representation handled THIS poorly sdkjhgkjdshg #ask #aftg

[covertblizzard]

Is it self-deprecation if you unconsciously create sentient beings who insult and bully you?

Round 1: Oblivion’s reveal

Oblivion is basically a part of Kyle created before he knew how to control the lantern ring by ordering the ring to expel all his sorrow, anger, self-doubt, fear,  and negative emotions he repressed deep inside of himself after the Alex's death to protect himself.

This little shit decide to reveal himself by first lowkey re-traumatising Kyle with his OWN daddy issues for basically no reason (that Kyle instantly believes this is not something I want to think much about but maybe it also has to do with the asshole that is Zachary Rayner). He laughs at himself for having daddy issues, insult his own grammar skills, insult himself by reminding of being “special” in grade school, and accuse him of not handling his emotions well and creating him (this one is a special self-loathing within self-loathing because it implied Oblivion also thinks the creation of Oblivion is a bad thing lmao).

(Damn Kyle, just go be a yellow or red lantern for a while like everyone else /j)

(This got long so everything else under Read More)

Round 2: (TW suicide) Is it suicidal if you want to kill yourself to get rid of another part of yourself?

I don’t think this scene needs much elaboration, he threatens to let the ring run out of charge (essentially give up being a Green Lantern and a hero) and when Oblivion says it won’t work, he straight up tries to kill himself. Oblivion stops him though, by reminding him that if he does, the Justice League (whom he has trapped away) will die.

(Uh, Oblivion also says “I didn’t think you had it in you...” in reference to Kyle trying to kill himself, which is phrased like it’s meant to be an insult, I suppose in a “I didn’t think you had the courage to” way but uhhh ://)

(Oh, and he calls him a bad liar I suppose)

It is interesting that the only thing that stops him is essentially friends / people around him and that he needs to live in order to save them. It makes a good metaphor for people realising that their family / friends / people around them might need them or be hurt / upset by their deaths. Furthermore, the Justice League is still hurt and trapped by Oblivion though, so there is also the interesting connection to the idea that bottling up and not properly processing your emotions properly to an extreme point can hurt the people around you, even if you don’t mean to.

(Also Oblivion claims he doesn’t need to reconnect with Kyle, he just wants to, and I suppose that could be interpreted as Oblivion doesn’t want to be solely the negative emotions aspect. Perhaps he doesn’t really want to do this, after all he’s essentially not killed anyone despite all the crazy stunts he’s pulled, and reconnecting with Kyle could gives him the ability and access to the more positive emotions and the chance to heal as well.)

Round 3: Catfight with yourself

Well this one is more just Kyle and Oblivion calling each other morons lol. But also the phrase “I am anger and sorrow and everything else that has made you what you are since childhood” is kind of raw and so is Kyle’s response of “Then, I guess I’ll just have to grow up.”

Some of the more minor ones:

Calling himself a third-rate “hero”

Insulting his own visor lol

“I may exaggerate every one and again, but I’m as honest as the next guy.” (This one doesn’t really count, he basically just says he maybe spin tales a little bit sometimes, but I thought it was funny and cute so I included it)

Bonus: A MUCH more normal form of self-deprecating behaviour

Insulting the work he created as a very young kid. Everything about this is too relatable. Who did you share these comics with? “No one! They’re embarassing!”

(Him saying his letters to Santa had a better chance of reaching their destination as opposed to little comic strips he sent his dad, I’m not upset T.T)

(I know Santa is real in DC but that’s irrelevant)

Anyway, my answer is YES! WHAT THE HECK, KYLE?

#kyle rayner #green lantern #aaron rayner #oblivion #mypost #dc thoughts #tw: suicide #suicide #attempted suicide #this whole series makes me feel THINGS #yeah i ripped the pieces of old poems and stories i wrote in kindergarten and grade school #when i accidentally stumbled across them what about it #EMBARASSING #does anyone know what special k means in usa / california? #i tried to google it but it came up empty #it could be some kind programme or were they just calling him a special kid? special kyle? #the implication is obvious anyway but i kind of really want to know exactly what it's referring to

[parapsychoiogy]

okay wait sorry for posting twice in a row but the ghost hunt mangas final case is genuinely so sooooo good im eternally so sad the case never got animated along with the rest of them it never even got released in english because the american distributor went bankrupt its soooo sad

#IF YOU WANNA READ IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME I HAVE THE WHOLE SERIES IN GOOGLE DRIVE #also theres a full TW list i made for my friends to use also so 👍 #its my favorite series ive been collecting the physical copies for years #its been my fave since i was like ??? 9 ??? #i just like series that treat death and ghosts with kindness <3

[bambisnc]

late night conversations [ft. j.wy]

-> pt2 of this [recap] -> you’re just about to point out that you are, in fact, just a fake girlfriend but before you can wonyoung interrupts you, tilting your face towards her in a way that leaves your lips inches away from hers (and leaves you completely breathless), her tone dripping with urgency, “he’s looking. kiss me now.”

pairing : wony x reader genre : fluffyy/crack/angstish + fake dating trope! cw/tw : kissing + super lowk suggestive + u dont have to read pt1 but u'd get a lil bg so + uneditted oohf ;-; wc : 2! pages! in google docs yayay

“well aren’t you just the best kisser ever~” 

“jang wonyoung do you want me to cry.”

your fake girlfriend’s arm drapes itself over your shoulder, “but yn.. i’m the one who’s sad.. you know, i’d asked my girlfriend to kiss me, but she ended up biting my lip. i think i even saw a little blood…” you try to push her figure off of you, only for her to loop another under your knees and position you to sit on her lap with astonishing ease.

“or should i take it to mean that you were just that excited to kiss me, hmm~?” she’s teasing you, trying to rile you up – you know that. 

but since when did fake dating involve.. this much intimacy? wonyoung is still whining about how much your action pained her, you panicked okay?!, but the casual way she rests her hand on your hip and her face nuzzles into your neck, placing kisses which seem to be dangerously lowering with every successive brush of her lips on your skin.., just seems a bit too real to be considered a show.

when you’d asked her, wonyoung had an answer ready at the tip of her tongue, “we need to practice; yn c’mon you seriously don’t expect people to believe us if you keep acting all stiff. we need practice.” and voila, she’d invited herself into your house.

you ignored the dull glint of .. something you couldn’t really understand in her usually bright eyes. you ignored how her rigid expression felt like a knife to your heart.

“hey.,” 2 hands press against your face, forcing your lips into a little pout, “pay attention to me.” you think she’s still being playful, but her expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen it.. 

and then, a featherlight touch of her lips on yours.

it leaves you a little dizzy, to be honest. you’ve kissed before, and this was barely even considerable comparing your past ‘practice’ sessions with wonyoung.. so maybe it’s something about this moment in particular. 

you’d long accepted that she’d only remain a hallway crush, an alluring daydream. because you knew there was no way you could get over her unless.. unless maybe if you got the closure you needed. that you and her could never happen. which was why you’d accepted her plea to be her fake girlfriend. 

you’d hope the way she was basically using you would be enough to knock some sense back into your love lost brain. but it didn’t. you realized if it was wonyoung, you’d be okay with her doing whatever, however, whenever she wanted.

and maybe.. maybe your feelings weren’t completely hopeless. maybe you had a chance.

“wah yn- c’mon do you want me to beg?” wonyoung asks, her arms now moving to pull you closer to her, embracing you ever so tenderly, “i’ll do it if you want, you know? pleasee~ tell me why you were late to the party? you said something about an issue?”

you sigh, “it’s..complicated. a really long story. and it’s 2 am..”

“so? we have all the time in the world.” 

it’s really hard to argue with her in your current position, especially when her fingers are tracing soothing, mindless patterns on your back.

wonyoung decides you need further convincing, mumbling a “i want you to speak your mind around me yn.. let that mask of yours drop now.. please?” to do so.

gods, at this point you’d even tell her all your banking information if she wanted you to.

notes : honorary dedication to yuyu again n @elliesrosetoy ! (ily btoh) !! &lt;3 + [m.list] + lowkey thinking of a pt3,, lmk tho!

update -> [pt.3] !! [series m.list]

#order's up~! 📋⋆𐙚 #[something secret n dizzying] #cakes.♡︎🥮 #div creds : @/plutism + @/yizaicons -> wony pic!! #ive x reader #jang wonyoung #wonyoung #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #ive headcanons #ive #girl group imagines #kpop gg x reader #kpop gg #wonyoung ive #ive wonyoung #wonyoung x you #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff

[aloesarchives]

Toji Fushiguro General/Relationship Headcanons #1

TW/Warnings: Profanity, Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, the talks of starting a family, little bit of married life (LMK if anything else needs to be tagged)

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her (Usage of female gendered terms like Sweet Girl, Woman, Princess)

Word Count: 6.6k words

So these head canons exist for all versions of Toji that I write. However, these are more based around Modern/Non-Sorcerer Au and my personal ‘Toji Lives’ Au. But these are also stand alone because they are some general stuff I think about for Toji in general and his relationship with reader. I’m doing a separate head canons where it’s mainly family/domestic fluff with Megumi and Tsumiki. Maybe making more parts if I have more head canons.

Also, I'm starting to plan out the parts for my Toji x Reader/Megumi x Reader mini series. I'll release a google form for those who are interested in the mini series and another one for the continuations of my Suguru x Reader/Satoru x Reader one-shot. So stay tune for any updates in the upcoming weeks!

!!Not proofread and unedited!! 2/22/24 11:26 pm CST

One thing’s more certain, when you first met Toji, you didn’t fall in love right away. Your relationship with Toji was something gradual, building up over time as you kept running into him. 

One of your most notable encounters happened in the grocery store you always go to and see him at. Your fridge was getting empty as per usual so you came today to fully stock it. As you were nearing the end of your trip, you stopped by the meat section to grab some meat for tonight’s dinner. Normally, you prefer your local butcher’s but they were on vacation so this would have to do. As you were going to reach for one, another hand reached for the same one, a much larger hand. You quickly retracted and apologized to the individual when you saw Toji smirking at you. The two of you talked for a bit before your eyes wandered towards his basket. It had barely anything in it, to you at least. There were some canned drinks, minimal vegetables, a bag of chips, like a loaf of bread.

“Are you picking some things for your pantry, Toji?”

“Nah, this is my food.”

“For today?”

“For this week.”

You stand there absolutely stunned. By the looks of his nonchalant expression, he was not joking. You didn’t want to ask him if this is how much he can afford to not make him feel embarrassed. So you invited him to your place for dinner and to cook for him. Toji's insistence on declining was strong, but your persistence for him to eat was even stronger. Adding Toji’s grocery and paying for everything. Toji carries the groceries to your place and you both enjoy a warm filling meal for him. The man had never eaten so good before he fell asleep on your sofa right after. The next day, he woke up around 10 am to the sound of you washing dishes. He sees breakfast for two on the table and a large bag sitting on the counter. You tell him to join you and you both enjoy your breakfast. While cleaning up, Toji asks what’s the big bag for and you said it’s for him. You cooked him a week worth of food because you knew he didn't have time or energy. So you handed it to him as he’s leaving, telling him to come back anytime for a good meal. As soon as your front door closes, he’s just standing there trying to understand what just happened. His heart is swelling at your gesture, his face ablaze with a heavy blush, wondering why he is feeling this way for you. And Toji makes the horrific realization that he’s falling for you and it won’t stop there.

Most likely you have to initiate the first hangout because the man is clueless when it comes to interactions, specifically with women in a non-flirtatious/transactional way. He started to like you because you weren’t handsy with him or led the conversation to something else. You were interesting because your interactions were real with no other intentions besides talking to him. You’ll admit he’s hot but won’t say it out loud because you don’t want to say something uncomfortable or overstep your boundaries. 

Your hangouts consist of eating at those family-owned restaurants or hidden gems, the food’s good with a good price. Walking around or in a park, maybe hiking if you’re even interested. He doesn’t have money to take you out properly but you aren’t someone who’s into high-end or fancy places because they’re a waste of money in your opinion. You find inexpensive ways to spend time with Toji and it’s fun for you because you don’t have to worry about his expectations because he’s having fun too.

The more he sees and spends time with you, the more he values your company. He starts smiling more and is in a better mood than all his years alive. He definitely isn’t energetic but he isn’t as robotic as he used to be before meeting you. Shui notices this but doesn’t say anything to Toji because he thought he was overthinking things. But when Toji asks him how do you know you’re in love, Shui thought Toji legit went insane. Toji doesn’t want to talk about it but he doesn’t know who the hell to ask so Shui is his closest bet. He asks Toji who got him acting up and Toji shows him a picture of you and he asks Toji if he kidnapped you because he didn’t know he could pull an absolute unit of a woman. And Toji replies “I don’t know man, I don’t even know myself.” Shui is lowkey happy Toji has you. He is fully aware Toji doesn’t have the best background but it’s clear as day you being around him is changing him for the better, undoubtingly saving him.

Toji doesn’t have the best living conditions, he lives by himself in a rundown studio apartment that only had a basic kitchen, a bathroom, and main space that doubled as the living and bedroom. He barely had anything in his apartment other than a futon, a closet, and a table. Got some trash lying around because he doesn’t bother to pick it up. Apartment smells like the back of the house kitchen at a restaurant mixed with the boys locker room in high school. You offered to help clean up. Trash bags full of trash and used cleaning wipes, laundry done and fresh, every surface wiped clean. By the time it was done, his apartment looked brand new. You wouldn’t be surprised that it was trashed again but at least it was clean for once. After your help, Toji becomes a little conscious of his space and cleans it. But this turns into him not using that space because he’s always at your place.

Toji has a habit of ghosting/disappearing without notice. You’re seeing him at the supermarket, next he’ll be gone for like a month or so. Since you really don’t have his phone number, you can’t contact him but it’s not like you two were friends let alone dating at this point. You say it is what it is until one stormy night you heard a hard knock on the door. The next thing you see is Toji, two duffel bags, a cut above his eyebrow while being soaked. You shoved him inside, gave him a towel while patching him, drying his clothes while he changed in your guest bedroom. 

Toji lives with you and split the house chores. But since you’re technically the one with a consistent income and job, you mostly are away from the house and Toji is 90% at home. You do grocery shopping or errands before and after work while Toji holds down the fort. It's been a rough few weeks with him but there was progress. And it was good progress.

You find out pretty fast how Toji’s terrible spending habits and crippling gambling addiction. Luckily for you, you have your own bank account so you don’t have to worry about the man stealing your money. However, you do force Toji to give his paycheck from his inconsistent but very high paying jobs. Literally one of his checks had a value of $30 Million Yen! You cashed it in your account so fast and paid all your bills and groceries off for a minimum of 3 months. It never struck why Toji doesn’t see that as much money but you come to learn that his clan is a prominent one with a substantial amount of wealth so that amount doesn’t surprise him. But still, you told him you’re permanently in charge of the finances because you don’t trust him handling any money. Strangely enough, he doesn’t protest at your rule and now whenever he’s done with a job, he instantly gives his cheek to you. You do give Toji some personal spending cash besides for food and necessities, then eventually a card that’s attached to your bank account. But it’s not a joint account but a card that has access to your account. His card has a spending limit to the equivalent of 67.7k yen(roughly $475 dollars) every month. He CAN withdraw money but you are notified through your bank’s notifications when, where, and how much. Even though you two are balling because of his cheeks, you don’t get carried away with the spending because life in the city is too fucking expensive and you need all the money you can get. Plus, you don’t want to raise any suspicion because you’re pretty sure Toji’s money is blood money or from the black-market and you don’t want to draw a lot of attention for your own safety.

Toji only knew how to cook the basics but nothing over the top or fancy. But once he starts living with you, he starts learning how to cook and for all things under the sun it’s fucking immaculate. Toji’s cooking just tests better to the point you assign him on cooking duties since he cooks better and faster than you. Your co-workers are always envious every time they see your lunch. It’s something different everyday but it’s delicious and filling but not the kind that makes you lethargic. It’s so fucking good that you two don’t eat out as much because his cooking has evolved to peak gourmet. Lowkey is happy you like his cooking and it gives him motivation to continue his work if it puts you in a good mood.

Which brings up another point. I believe Toji is capable of gaining multiple useful skills, it’s just he’s unmotivated. Like he could be good at changing tires, plumbing, handy-man work, cooking, any installation, anything under the sun, but he chooses not to because he doesn’t feel obligated to do so. But it all changes when he starts living with you. Man becomes a jack of all trades and he basically makes life easier because you have him fix/do what needs to be done all the while you’re saving money. He’s a fast learner too. Pretty much once he does it the first time and it works without breaking/doesn’t turn out like shit, it’s locked in his head and knows how to fucking do it.

Initially, Toji is lazy because he is a go with the flow type of guy that doesn’t concern himself with appearances. If it’s livable, not rotting, and doesn’t smell rancid, he’s not going to touch it or bother picking it up. That’s why his apartment was a mess because he’s able to live in those conditions because they’re his own, that's not a thorn in his side. Like he’ll leave his clothes by but not near the hamper because he’ll eventually pick them up when it’s laundry day(you end up picking it up but you started to trip over them while in the bathroom). But you establish a routine for Toji to follow. He doesn’t have to follow it exactly but you said there should be at least 4 main components to it. Literally forcing Toji to pick up habits so he’ll be more productive and conscious of his time. 

Took some time but he eventually attaches to it because it mostly revolves around your schedule. It got to a point where he would be waking you up for your work, getting you your morning drink and a decent breakfast, getting your work bag with your lunch inside, all the while getting you out on time. If not, 5 minutes early so you can be on time for work. I can imagine him saying stuff along the lines of:

“Shakes your shoulders firmly (Y/N), Wake the hell up. You slept through your alarm and it fucking woke me up. You gotta get out of the door in 30 minutes or you’re going to be stuck in traffic, dumbass.”

“Oi (Y/N), it’s 6:00 am. You have 15 minutes to get your ass up and get ready for your work. Before 6:20, you better have your work clothes on when you come into the kitchen because I already made your breakfast.”

“I’m trying to get you out of the door early so you can catch the early train and beat the morning rush. Here’s your lunch and your work bag. Make sure you have everything because I’m not going to bring it to your work if you ask me to.” (He does anyway)

“Hey, it’s going to rain hard later so here’s your umbrella cause I don’t you to fucking sick knowing how you get careless with yourself some times. Pain in my ass…”

So you kinda tamed Toji, this wandering stray cat that was 6’2 and built like a concrete pillar. But you didn’t make it your whole personality trait because 1.) you think it’s pretty fucked up to think helping Toji/people like him is more of a project than genuine compassion. 2.) And you roll your eyes when people say you ‘“fixed” Toji. You just say “Um, no? No I didn’t, Toji picked himself up and changed because he decided to. Not because I FIXED him or him changing isn’t my doing because you be surprised by the amount of people that stay the same because they chose to.” Another reason why Toji fell for you is because you see Toji as a whole human with flaws, you humanized him. You don’t parade him around like some sort of object, you acknowledge his presence and it makes him fall in love with you even more.

Definitely have arguments for sure early on that were rougher compared to being together for a while. Again, this is mostly due to him growing up and being treated as sub-human. He’s vocal not because he chooses not to communicate. But because he doesn’t know how, especially with you, his safe person and your home being his safe space. He was used to being neglected, dismissed or straight up abused altogether. But now that he’s living with you, he’s trying to dismantle his old mindset while learning how to communicate/vocalize his thoughts. He feels he’s unworthy of you because you have an immense amount of patience and understanding for him. Sure, there are your flaws but so does he and he knows living with someone like him is harder than anything else. So he’s appreciative of your efforts and faith in him.

He knows he has a loud voice and is careful when he loses his temper. Obviously for noise complaints but also for because it can be startling and scare you. God, one time you both almost got into a yelling match because of something miniscule and irrelevant but it transformed into something deeper that you didn’t know why you two were fighting about it in the first place. But the way he snapped at you and you unconsciously flinched at him, his heart felt heavy and cracking. He never saw you scared before but the thought of him being one of your fears terrified him immensely. He softens himself and deflates his body to show the surrender of his pride. He ACTUALLY genuinely apologies to you and opens his arms out so you could hug him.

Most of the arguments are just you being frustrated with him. Mostly this was early on with his lack of routine and productive habits, like him not picking up his clothes and leaving his cups everywhere. But Toji is one of those passive guys where he doesn’t like arguing with you and wants to end it asap. Even if he’s not in the wrong, he’ll just admit and apologize to you so you aren’t mad at him anymore. He doesn’t like it when you’re mad at him. Sometimes it can escalate to heated ones but those happen rarely and only exist when something snowballs. He may give an attitude here and there but you mostly know that’s him being himself and he doesn’t mean it.

Your relationship didn’t have a definitive label but the lines are blurred between the two of you. You two hug and hold hands sometimes but it’s more than platonic but not enough for love either. Through large and tight crowds, Toji lets you hold onto his arm , has his hand firmly pressed on the small of your back, or holds your hand tightly as he makes his way through. It’s common for you two to be passed out on the couch together or on the floor after watching a movie or a show. Or how he leans his head on yours when on the train, even carrying you home if you fell asleep and doesn’t have the heart to wake you up because you're tired from work. What you have with Toji is nice and comfortable but you do end up loving him because he makes your life warm and worth living. You just don’t know if he’ll feel the same. Oh but he does, he fucking does. But he doesn’t know how to say the three magical words because he never heard them at all when he was growing up. Let alone someone saying it to him.

You definitely say I love you first before him. Because let’s be honest, this man never knew what the hell ‘love’ or true love is. This man grew up in a traditional family that prioritized status, reputation, influence, and anything under that umbrella for traditionalism. So love was never an important aspect of his clan. So for you to show him the true wonders of love and its ups and downs, he’s overwhelmed and a little ashamed because he’s trying to adjust and get used to this feeling. He isn’t a fairly vocal man but he’ll forever be grateful for your patience, kindness, compassion, and understanding towards someone like him. He freezes when he hears you say it to him with such tenderness and warmth only you could give him. You know he’s not ready to say it back but you couldn’t help but tell him because it needed to be put out there for both him and you. You told him he doesn’t have to say it if he’s not ready or doesn’t feel the same. But you also said that you truly only care for and love him only.

But when he said “I Love You” to you, you knew he meant it with all his heart. You could remember it clearly because it was storming with heavy rains. Flash flood warnings are being sent out and weather channels are telling citizens to stay indoors and not leave their homes. Toji has been trying to call you for the past hour but you never picked up. His anxiety was rising, fearing you were stuck or possibly hurt. He says fuck it and grabs his jacket to go out when you open the door just as he was about to leave. Your clothes were wet but not soaked but you held your shoes in your hand while dropping your umbrella and bag on the floor. You tried to explain to Toji that your phone died at work before you could ever call him. There was a flooded street and so you had to take your shoes off to not get them ruined. You did grab him some food though beforehand but that didn’t matter to him when he saw that you were safe and unharmed. He hugged so tightly through your wet clothes when he said the fabled words to you. 

“Goddammit, I fucking love you, (Y/N). I was so fucking worried about you. I thought you were in trouble or something, Sweet girl. .  .”

You started to cry when you heard him say that you kissed him on the lips by impulse. You thought you fucked up and try to apologize only for him to return your kiss with his only while you hold his face and his hands on your waist. Fuck it was beautiful.

Pretty much after that, you both were in the trenches of love with each other. Fuck it’s so tooth-rotting to see it that Shui jokes and teases the hell out of Toji because that man changes his whole demeanor when you call him. He calls him out on how his voice changes from its usual monotone gruffness to low but soft. Toji tells Shui, “I’m a changed man.”

People are so jealous of you two. How the hell did Toji bag you!? The most ethereal, beautiful, compassionate, kind, funny, and respectable woman?! And how lucky did you get finding such a fine specimen of a man?! 

Toji’s pronouns are literally HE/HIM because Toji is HIM while you’re the IT girl with the one of your pronouns being SHE/HER because you are HER FOR REAL ON GOD.

You two are the IT couple, I don’t make the fucking rules. There’s you being the best version of yourself and you unapologetically. Then there’s Toji who’s hot AS FUCK and following his favorite girl around because you’re the only girl for him, BEST GIRL. He is just there but with you nevertheless.

You’re the couple people make those cool edits of, I’m not even joking.

Knows how to drive both automatic and manual but as an automatic cause because of you. You are on permanent passenger princess duty because this man is your chauffeur until he dies or has no legs. Drives with one hand on the wheel and the other is either on the gearshift, your hand, or your thigh. Looks hot every time he turns or reverses because his biceps show themselves and it’s dangerous for you because it makes you feral.

IDK if it’s just me but Toji seems like the guy to buy a whole rotisserie chicken just for himself. He’ll buy one for you, of course. But one of those bad boys is his because he’s not sharing! After a workout or work, he’ll eat it with no signs of meat left on the bones. They’re so clean he even eats the cartilage.

Toji seems like one of those individuals that looks full grown when he’s younger like in his early 20’s and just stops aging altogether. Not like his entire appearance stays the same, it's just his genetic game is so strong and good people believe he's like 25 when he’s actually in his mid to late 40’s. You and him are like cheese and wine. Both perfectly paired together, and the aging is unnoticeable but you both taste divine.

His closet is the most basic and uncomplicated. T-shirts, undershirts, sweaters, hoodies, joggers, sweatpants, maybe one pair of black cargo pants but that’s about it. He always wears sweaters or hoodies when he’s out because he lowkey doesn’t like to be stared at unless it’s you. He knows his compression shirts would make people drool so he opts out of showing up in them unless it’s super hot or he’s too lazy to cover up. Toji definitely would wear those oversized Uniqlo t-shirts for men. He has the black, dark green, and dark blue ones. Fucking never leaves the house with his fucking sandals or black kung-fu slippers. You buy a pair of black Air Force 1’s, Vintage Black Arizona Grip Birkenstocks, and some Doc Martin black leather boots(1460 Smooth Leather Lace Up Boots). You had to up his shoe game because there is no way you’re letting him only have two pairs that are very worn out.

People think he isn’t all that because he’s chill and uncaring most of the time. In reality, Toji knows how to tap into his inner dawg like a switch. He’s really good at hiding it and not making it obvious. But like then snap! He summons his inner dawg and menacing aura. You could be talking to someone unaware that is staring them down. You smile at him and his aura changes so fast as he smiles at you in return. But as soon as you turn away to continue talking to the person, the menacing aura just returns. His aura is so intimidating and menace-like that people genuinely grow anxious and fearful. So much so that they could piss/shit themselves or even throw up if they didn’t have a strong will.

Personally, Toji is more of a German Shepherd boyfriend than a black cat boyfriend. IDK, it just makes sense to me. Like he talks and isn’t hostile to people he knows like you and Shui, literally the only two people in his life that he’s close with. But everyone else, he either hates them or doesn’t give a single care in the world. 

I also personally think Toji isn’t stupid and he's actually intelligent. I think his past issues and how he was treated is the reason he seems like an incompetent person. But really, he’s pretty smart. I know this doesn’t involve the canon but the fact Toji knew which weapons to use on Satoru, beating Suguru with an inch of his life but not killing because he knows what Suguru’s technique can do if he does, and the whole plan with the bounty on Riko was pretty genius. Look, I’m not trying to vouch for him for what he did. But you can’t help but admit what Toji did was impressive. He worked smarter, not harder compared to other people. Especially letting the curse user do all the work for him while he gets to deal with the easy part and go in for the kill. The man came prepared to get the job done. I mean I would too if there was $30 million yen on the line. Sure, he’ll forget to pick up on some social cues. But once the man locks in, he'll be the most observant and perspective person in the room and he’ll learn something about someone just by their body language and simple mannerisms. 

Not sure if this is confirmed or not by Gege but I read someone where that Toji is into philosophical conversations. But I can see because, again, he’s intelligent and has seen/learned a lot of stuff from his hits/jobs. Toji isn’t one of those smartasses that you experience in those advanced classes. He’ll earnestly speak his mind if you ask and what you have to see. He always finds it interesting hearing things from your point of view and I feel like this is one of the ways you two grew close to one another.

You two got married because you just popped the question to him and said yes. You two didn’t have rings at the time but he did buy you the one you wanted but the band had some black on it. His was a solid black wedding band to match yours. Up close, it looks pretty cool. He bought the rings because he asked Shui for any hits/“jobs” that were available on such short notice after you two got married. A week later, Shui notices it and asks him if he finally tied the knot with you. Toji just nods.

Took your last name then both of you decided to add another last name, deciding on Fushiguro. King shit right here. Not afraid or ashamed he took your last name as a middle finger to his clan.

This isn’t a Toji head canon but I can see Shui being a bro and giving Toji consistently well-paying hits/“jobs” because he knows how much you mean to Toji and Toji has to provide for you too. You both would be sleeping and Toji hears a notification go off and knows Shui sent him a job that will be done by tomorrow afternoon.

Routine wise, nothing changes between the two of you. However, Toji is more open and affectionate with you. Especially with nicknames, he rarely uses your real name at home. God, when he calls your names of endearment, you’re going to fucking explode from how deep and gentle voice gets calling out to you. 

He also loves hugging you from behind and having you in his arms. Definitely gives good hugs, they give the right amount of squeeze but are so warm and protective. Is more daring with his kisses, would steal a kiss whenever he gets the chance.

Toji is the type to sleep the closest to the bedroom door. Doesn’t matter where the door is, your body is always in front of him. Just in case something happens, he can/will protect you and he can use his body as a shield to protect you.

Unironically a good listener, legit has a good hearing canonly in reality. He just carries his resting nonchalant face all the time. He could be focused on something or not looking your way, but Toji is listening to you speak and will recite your words right back at you if you think he is. This also helps if you’re someone who tends to forget things or need reminders. He’ll tell you what you were supposed to do 5 minutes ago word for word if you ask him.

Sleeps in his boxers only. Might sleep in a shirt and sweatpants when it’s colder. But Toji’s body mass produces enough heat to be a furnace that you both only sleep with one blanket. He’s always warm. If you get cold hands, fear not because they’ll be warm in five seconds if you place them on Toji’s abs.

Fairly possessive to an extent. It’s usually blended in with protectiveness because one can bleed into another. Like he’ll let you to your own devices but isn’t going to whine if you have guy friends. Toji can read between the lines, he has really good social cues. But he’ll straight up tell you he doesn’t like your male friends/co-workers if they are interested in you romantically. You’re his girl, he wants people to know it. But he would literally kill for you and bring the Heavens to their knees just to keep you safe and protected. Would literally take the fall for you in anything, you can’t change my mind on that. Toji: “Your honor, my girl did nothing wrong. It was self-defense.” 

Toji has self-esteem issues for sure. You could have anyone in the whole world, anyone in this lifetime. But you choose him, and always chose him. The amount of times Toji had to get/do something while you wait for him only to come back to see a random-ass guy talking and trying to get your number. His heart would squeeze at the scene because he wouldn’t blame you for going for someone better. But when he sees you say “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m with my boyfriend and he should be back any second now.” Seeing your eyes scan for him and the way your face lights up seeing him made his heart inflate, making the squeeze disappear. You speed walk to Toji, ignoring the dude, and hug his arm tightly. Toji kisses your head as he walks with you not before throwing the dude a shit-eating grin his way. After that, Toji knows you’re loyal to him and that’s a fact.

But if we’re going to be honest, none of us would leave Toji if he treated us well and deservingly. Plus he’s strong and has the body that even the Gods are jealous of, how are we gonna fumble a bag like that? Ngl, if I meet Toji in real life, I’d run in the other direction fucking scared b/c I’m not fantasy me and fantasy me is better. 

Nicknames for you consist of Doll, Babe/Baby , Honey or Hun, Dear, Sweet Girl, Sweet Thing, Princess.

Toji is the type of man to say “Wear whatever the fuck you want, Doll. I can fight” and says it with his chest with no questions asked because it’s true. Toji got that win streak with zero losses under his belt. But then again, no guy will try to hit on you when they see Toji giving them the ultimate stare down when they try to do something funny.

Once gut punched someone so hard they were sent flying while throwing up what they ate for the day because they tried to make a physical move on you and Toji’s instincts just took over.

Toji definitely brawls and fights. He could get jumped by like 10 dudes and send all of them to the hospital completely unscathed. But his beatings get more aggressive if he is with you. Like if you two are out and some guy tries to hit on you and uses his group to intimidate him, you give Toji the approving nod and he’s just giving all of the most devious combos to ever grace this plant while you're sipping on your drink watching it all unfold.

Also, Toji isn’t letting things slide when you’re uncomfortable, annoyed, or God forbid, scared. One time, you told Toji you were going to get food for both of you at your favorite local restaurant/bakery/cafe. But you were gone longer than expected so he went to find you and saw you talking to a guy. He was confused at first because you usually tell them off or leave automatically. It wasn’t until he got closer when he saw the severity of the situation. To any passerby, it’s two people but then up close you can see the guy’s friend right behind him, backing him up and purposely corning you so their pressure would make you say yes but you held your ground. But you were lowkey scared because they trapped you in an abandoned lot that was hidden from the public eye. So when Toji saw how your body shrunk and clutching your bag of food to your chest, that was his green light to go in. Toji grabs the guy’s throat, his hand being big enough to get a good grip. His eyes are cold and daunting, telling the guy, “You must have shit for brains because she clearly isn’t interested in you. It’s not cool to corner a woman with your bitch-less friends.” That’s his only warning to them before he boxes all of them. Took him 2 minutes max and he’s pulling you along with your food in his other hand. 

Toji also would be more than okay if you ask him to pick you up or drop you off from work. You both have a car but it’s cheaper and more convenient to take public transportation. Like he’ll walk with you to work and leave once you’re inside. Once you’re off, you see him outside waiting for you. Your co-workers you vibe with wonder who’s the handsome guy that is always waiting for you and you say that’s your husband. They’re gawking at him and say you’re so lucky. 

Hates him when people tell him what to do but will follow every command you give him. You’re the only one who can boss him around and he’s actually happy to oblige. Responds with “Yes, Sweet girl”, “Anything else, Honey?”, or “Of course, Dear/Babe/Baby”.

Toji is the type of man to follow you anywhere and do anything with you as long as it makes you happy. The type of man to be like “It is what it is, I’m not gonna complain”.

His body is made from the amount of work he has to do for his occupation. He doesn’t need to go to the gym because he gets a full pump by doing push ups alone at home. Does pull ups in the doorway, has a heavy barbell and dumbbells set in your home because you allowed him thinking it would make him productive. Literally puts body builders and any gym goers to shame. His strong body is built by his job alone and his body’s innate ability to gain muscles and keep a low but healthy fat percentage.

Doesn’t drink because he has a very high alcohol tolerance and also he can’t get drunk too. So if you’re not into drinking, he can always keep you company and will back people off if they pressure you into drinking even though you declined. He can see the amusement in drinking culture but he doesn’t drink himself because he hates being under the influence. He won’t mind if you do and he’s more than willing to pick you up from a night out of friends. Not a fan of bars but will go if you ask him to, your drinks are always protected.

Thinks he can rizz you up but it’s you who has the most powerful rizz out of the two.

If you’re having a bad day or just having a mental/emotional breakdown, Toji will try his best to comfort you. If you want him to hold you, he will hold in a loving and protective embrace. Definitely say things like, “You’re going okay, Baby”, “I’m here, Honey. I gotchu”, or “You’re with me, Doll. I won't let anything happen to you.” Not really good with advice but Toji always listens to what you have to say. He will get you anything you need or make you any food you’re craving at the moment. The man would literally go on a last minute grocery run to make you your favorite food to make you feel better. It makes him feel at ease when your mood lightens up or you smile at him.

Not a picky eater but eats the same types of foods because Toji doesn’t get sick of them that easily and he doesn’t have to think too hard on what to eat. But he will make something different everyday for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for you. He would judge you for eating the same food over and over again but not him because he eats just so to satiate his hunger.

He’s your infinite garbage disposal. You’re full or don’t want to finish your food, Toji will eat it for you. His hunger can be satisfied but his body has a large capacity until it reaches full. He never knew what it was like to be full.

Toji is always the big spoon. Maybe some nights he likes to be held by you but he’s the big spoon no matter what. Probably because he desperately needs to feel your presence in the dream world and protect your physical body. More of a back sleeper than a side sleeper but can sleep in either position. Sleeping positions consist of his arm around you and you’re tucked into his side while using his shoulder as a pillow, sleeping on his chest/on top of him, or back hugging you where his massive body engulfs your own. He loves being close to you when sleeping and hates when you’re not in his arms.

Most likely Toji will have nightmares because he feels like he doesn’t deserve you. If not, feel his life he has with you is even real. Sometimes the dark void is there with shadows looming closer to consume him the more he continues to think like that. It’s not until he wakes up to see your sleeping face and gently caresses it is when he realizes this is life was real, you are real and right in front of him. He smiles like a fool before kissing your forehead and holding you close.

Never has thought about his future because he didn’t think he would live this long, or have a domestic life. But now that he has you and is married, he constantly thinks about the future, your future together. He couldn’t imagine a future without you, it’s not possible for him. He imagines having a family with you and hopes you share the same idea as him.

I know these are wild and don't make sense for his character but let me dream, okay?! I've been simping for this man since October 2020, I've been waiting for this, lol. Anyway, thanks for the support!💙❤️

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #fem reader #reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk #x y/n #x reader fluff #x fem!reader #x female reader #domesticity #domestic fluff #x reader headcanons

[leopardom]

🕺🏻

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #tw // flashing #leopardom gifs #series: the google drive vol.8

[okkotsuus]

ex encounters (bllk pt.4) !

features: alexis ness ... tabito karasu ... eita otoya ... kenyu yukimiya

contents: bad exes, general tw, confrontation, harassment, google translate german, strong language

tw for the exes: controlling, domineering, power struggle, accusations, fighting, public scenes, revenge, grabbing (shoulder), trying to get back together, harassment, manipulation, gaslighting, falling out of love, wanting you back, possessive themes

notes: FINALLY FINISHING THIS SERIES and desperately hoping this will cure my writer's block </3

pt.1 — pt.2 — pt.3

like kaiser, ness would be so pressed that your ex would even have the audacity to so much as even think of you. but unlike kaiser, ness would not be trying to throw hands: bro would just be gaslighing your ex into thinking he can't stand a chance against him.

you met ness online, trying to learn german through an anonymous messaging forum: where he was trying to learn your native language. the both of you had no clue who the other was, becoming online friends for years, long before you had ever even met your ex.

when your ex came into your life, ness noticed that you were online less and less. when asked, you gave the sheepish answer that your boyfriend didn't support you learning german, not wanting you to know a language that he didn't.

despite the red flag that was, and all his other warning signs, you stayed with him. you still learned german, now only messaging your pen pal when your lover slept or was away.

but, one day, you came home to your (now ex) boyfriend sitting on the couch. he found out you were still messaging ness, and he was mad.

it lead to a blow-out fight, you ended up having to flee and stay with a friend, collecting your stuff over a week while he was at work. you never saw him again.

eventually, you finished learning german. after a long discussion, ness agreed to meet you at the airport. the second you touched down in berlin, you rushed out the gates to see that cute boy with caramel hair and magenta tips holding your name on a sign. that would be the man you'd come to love so very dearly.

eventually, you and ness moved in together in germany, for his soccer career. you returned home with him for the holidays, to visit family.

as ness and you walked hand in hand through the streets of your hometown, bantering idly in german, you stumbled across a face you thought you'd never see again.

"ah, i see that i was right to not want you to learn german..." his voice said from a little further away, eyes glaring at the two of you. you instantly stiffened, and ever perceptive ness instantly figured out what was happening, muttering a quiet "verdammt" under his breath.

as your ex sauntered closer, ness wordlessly stood in front of you. though he wasn't the most imposing figure, you could see his distaste written plainly on his face, sneering at your ex.

"you left me for a german terrier... i see your standards really lowered..." your ex mumbled, chuckling as he glanced at ness. "keep it up, just try me schwein..." ness threatened, squaring his shoulders.

this went back and forth enough until ness had finally barked out enough insults with that near-crazed look on his face that had him shaking his head and storming away.

your boyfriend, turned to you, like a dog awaiting praise. it had you giggling and cupping his face to press scattered kisses along his cheeks. "thank you, mein held..."

"anything for you, mein schätzchen. i'd do it for you in a heartbeat..."

karasu would be smug at first before quickly getting annoyed. he would want to throw hands, shoving the guy away and mocking him, probably gets the cops called on him. at least he doesn't look bad in cuffs ig??

when karasu was introducing you to a group of fans who watch bllktv, you didn't expect to see your ex. "wow, y/n, what are you now... a gold-digger?" he taunts, stepping into your view.

your boyfriend was off to the side, signing things, blissfully unaware to your torment as his back was turned to you. so, you decided to be the bigger person and just ignore him.

your ex was one of those run-of-the-mill revenge people, would make fun of you at any given chance now that you were separated. you don' even remember why you broke up, probably some snide comment of his that ticked you off. but one thing about him was that he hated being ignored.

karasu, who heard a guy's voice and figured you were getting hit on. he knows that you're a catch, and he trusts you, so usually he lets you humble people on your own unless things get out of hand. well, things got out of hand.

he spun around when he heard you yelp, eyes meeting the hand that gripped your shoulder. in an instant he was shoving your ex away from you, guiding you so gently behind him that it contrasted with the same movement he had used against your ex.

"trash shouldn't touch treasure." he spits, glaring down as you ex stumbles on his feet. just like that, with a shout, your ex charges back at karasu.

like a professional, karasu throws him back again, this time with more force. but desperation does something to inhibition and your ex lunges back again, sending a punch across your boyfriend's face.

karasu just chuckles, wiping the blood from his nose as he grabs your ex's collar with one hand and socks him with the other, sending him to the ground.

they continue this one-sided fighting until flashes of blue and red flare in the corner of your peripheral. then they're both in cuffs and all three of you including those fans from earlier are being questioned.

then, karasu walks away from his cops, rubbing his now-restraint-free wrists as he saunters up to you with that coy smirk. "hey there pretty thing, your jailbird's back..."

he's taken aback as you jump into his arms, hugging him tight as your hands hold him like he was fragile. he just smiles, wrapping his arms around you and kissing he side of your head with a gentle affection.

"hey now, don't cry. i'd gladly get cuffed again for keeping you safe."

otoya is another smug one, but unlike karasu he is not eager to be fighting. otoya's smart and knows just what to do, plays innocent if it ever gets to the point where cops come in.

of all people in the world, otoya has certainly had his share of running into an unpleasant ex. he's the one who will understand you best, which is why he stands next to you with a cocky grin as your ex desperately tries to explain how he's better for you than him.

"i don't have a history of cheating... unlike present company..." your ex digs, shooting a smug look at otoya, who grumbles out a "c'mon, it was one time..."

you just chuckle, shaking your head in exasperation with a heavy sigh. "no, you didn't cheat. but you're still a manipulative asshole." he huffs, rolling his eyes and mumbling curses under his breath.

"you pretentious bitch, i never once hurt you. it was all for your betterment because you can't take care of yourself." your ex spits, getting closer until otoya puts an arm between you two.

"don't talk to what's mine like that, back it up bud." otoya muses with a grin, pushing your ex back lightly, putting himself between you two. your ex stammers, glaring at you over your boyfriend's shoulder.

seemingly, all was fine until the next time you were out with otoya, your ex appeared again: delivering the same take-me-back speech. it was getting tiring and you felt your patience begin to wear thin with every emotionally-charged word that spilled from his lips.

you groaned, running your hands down your face with a tired sigh, otoya silently wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"listen, i think you should just go, man. this is getting pretty pathetic... i know that y/n's a real catch, but sometime's you gotta know when you can't reel a babe in..." otoya says, somehow getting even more smug as he presses you into his side, leering down at your ex.

eventually, after a few more snide remarks from otoya, your ex finally gave up. allowing you to slump in your boyfriend's arms, letting ot a tired sigh as you kissed his cheek. "thanks, 'toya..."

"i know why he's so desperate, there really is no one like you. makes me happy that i ended my player streak for you..."

an angel sent from heaven. arguably the best person to run into your ex with. yukimiya is calm and composed enough if your ex is temperamental, and he's tall and handsome to scare anyone else away. 10/10 literal perfect man.

yukimiya’s a pretty boy, he’s tall and lean with an angelic smile. he’s a catch, by far the best man you’ve ever dated. he only proves this to be even more true when the two of you run into your ex.

there wasn’t necessarily any bad blood between you two, he had just suddenly broken up with you on the claim that “he fell out of love.” it hurt you like hell, of course, but there was no reason for you to resent him for it. so you two left on good terms, occasionally wishing a happy birthday to the other until the friendship too fizzled out.

then you met yukimiya through a mutual friend and fell hard, but he fell harder. so here you are, happily sipping a blue slushy while yukimiya held your hand and chattered about soccer.

“blue was always our favorite…” a voice rang from behind you, yukimiya stopped drinking his red slushy as he turned with you. there he was, your ex with a sheepish grin.

you quirked a brow, confused. you hadn’t talked to him in nearly a year, ever since you and yuki had started dating.

he smiles sweetly at you, the kind that has you realizing where this is leading. “sorry, i’ve just been nostalgic about us lately…” he said with a chuckle, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

your eyes flit over to your boyfriend, catching the furrow of his brow. yukimiya was a really nice guy, he wasn’t a fan of confrontation. but you are.

so you grin at your ex, waving a hand dismissively. “sorry man, i’m in a very happy relationship…”

the second he tries to protest you swiftly shut him up, sticking out your tongue. at first, your ex was confused, then he realized that your tongue was purple. his eyes flit between your blue slushy and yukimiya’s red one, sighing and walking away.

yukimiya’s face goes bright red as he stares at you, “that’s not why your tongue is purple, you just wanted to try mine!” he protests.

you chuckle, grinning at him, “yeah, but he doesn’t have to know that…” yukimiya just sighs before grinning back at you.

"i don’t like lying, so why don’t you let me do it authentically…"

okkotsuus 23

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #alexis ness #alexis ness x reader #ness #ness x reader #tabito karasu #tabito karasu x reader #karasu #karasu x reader #eita otoya #eita otoya x reader #otoya #otoya x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya kenyu x reader #yukimiya #yukimiya x reader

[take-everything-you-can]

What makes a man

A/N : This is the second piece into the angiverse or my dad Eddie series of blurbs. A series of Fathers Days throughout Eddies life. One Where his father wasn't so kind, another when he surprised Wayne, and one more where you surprise him. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

P.s Photo in header are all from google straight up not gonna lie to yall have no idea who edited the Eddie and Wayne photo but its phenomenal.

P.p.s update : the photo of Eddie and Wayne was created by user @fefemunson on Pinterest and insta 💕💕🖤

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

WC: 4K

TW: Angst ( Al - need I say more...) Fluff ( Wayne's gift, doting husband, baby girl Munson) Smut ( Breeding kink, F receiving, fingering, unprotected PIV, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, accidental edging, squirting) If y'all see anything I missed please let me know. Not really edited all that much.

Sweat rolled down the side of Eddie's face as he sat crouched behind a car in the packed lot of a junkyard, a few towns over from Hawkins. The sun had set but the heat waves, in the middle of June 1975,  had become almost stifling as he kept an eye on his surroundings. Al had promised that if Eddie just kept watch this one last time, while he took care of some business, then he could get him the guitar strings he had his eye on.

It had only been two seconds, two seconds Eddie let himself get distracted as he watched the fireflies light up the darkening sky in swirling patterns. Two seconds and Eddie had missed how a tall figure made its way over to the door in which he watched his father disappear behind. Two seconds and he was too late to let out his crow call to let Al know there was someone coming. 

“Run.” A gunshot and a flash of his father was all Eddie heard and saw before his limbs were weaving in and out of old abandoned things that people no longer needed. Things that people no longer wanted. Losing traction as the rain from the night before made the clay and mud beneath his feet slide. He had caught up to Al, Eddie had never been an athlete but when it came to running for his life, he had more practice then one should at his age.

“Stupid, How could you be so fucking Stupid?” Al was catching his breath as he slowed, pretty sure that the men he was stealing from had given up at least for now. “I mean I ask you to do one thing and you can't even do that right.” Eddie walks beside his father and he’s heard the spiel time and time again. “If you think I’m getting you those guitar strings after this, You can forget it.”  Eddie knew he was never getting those strings, and if he was being honest with himself he knew this was the only time he was going to get with his father. That's all he ever wanted , to feel like he was needed and if that meant he would have to sit through some words that hurt, then that's exactly what he would do. 

He thought to two days ago. Hawkins Elementary had fathers day arts and crafts sweep through the halls and through classrooms as the day approached within the upcoming weekend. He decided that he was going to draw what he knew best. Eddie had drawn a dragon, large and fierce , one only a brave man could face. Sword in hand and threatening he had drawn his father slaying the dragon that plagued the princess’s  nightmares around the realm. He was so excited to present it to his father but as he sat and heard the words his father was saying the longer the picture sat in his backpack until it littered the bottom of it at the end of the year. 

Eddie would never give the picture to Al, in fact he would grow to forget about it. 

It took only a few months as the fall leaves began to change colors and fall to the ground, Al would find himself behind bars. Life without parole for numerous crimes that would leave Eddie with nothing but his mother and His uncle. It would be a very very long time before He would even hear the sound of his voice again. 

June 1985 had become as hot as Eddie thought it possibly could within the trailer. Wayne was currently out shopping for two new units, one for the living room and one for Eddie. As the men of the house could no longer stand having their hair drip sweat in their eyes and slick down the back of their knees. So they counted couch change and broke open piggy banks for the luxury of air flow. 

Eddie had found himself trying to pry the window that had been painted shut open in his room. A small one across from where his bed sat, and it took all of his strength and an hour of his time, but he had finally been able to crack it. Sweet relief had started to settle around him as a breeze picked up and his curtains swayed in as he took a look around his room. Clothes scattered and books in a pile, a few cups on his desk and sheets of paper askew, Eddie decided to start cleaning his room.

 A half clean floor surprised Wayne as he looks in on Eddie as he arrives home with the new units. Almost not wanting to say anything at all to stop Eddie in his task, but he curses himself as the words leave his mouth. 

“Come help me unload this truck boy.”  Eddie slips on a pair or worn out sneaker and trudges through the inferno only to be met with a realization. It was colder outside then it was in the trailer and he stood on the shared porch in disbelief. 

“How is it cooler out here than inside?” 

“Not for long If i can help it, Now come one and give me a hand before I melt out here.” 

Eddie helps Wayne take both units into the house and he holds them up as Wayne takes his time to install them, making sure that he eases the process as much as he can for his uncle.

 Eddie Holds his breath as Wayne plugs in the unit in his bedroom and the second the small little green light pops on and revs the A/C Unit to life, That breath leaves his lungs in a huffed out laugh as he jumps up and down in joy. A laugh from Wayne as he pats Eddie's shoulder as he leaves the room. “Glad you like it. I’m hitting the hay so keep it down here okay?” Eddie nods his head towards his uncle as he lifts his shirt up over his head and just basks in the cool air hitting his skin for what feels like the first time ever. 

Eddie opens his closet to hang a few stray long sleeve shirts he had  found scattered across the floor. Giving each the smell test before grabbing hangers. Who needs a long sleeve tee in this heat anyway, he thinks to himself. He stops and bends to find an old shoebox that had fallen from the top shelf and somehow landed upside down. Small trinkets from his past had toppled out and onto the floor, a few movie stubs, from trips to the cinema across town. His first DND Handbook , a small pick-me-up Wayne had brought home from a thrift store for him one day after finding out he had the flu.

 Then a small folded up piece of paper caught his eye. A Knight in shining armor depicted as slaying a dragon, one with a tail that could take out entire cities and claws like daggers. A sword through its skull as he shields himself from the bloodshed,but the face of the knight confused him. He remembered drawing the picture for his father , his rounded features and brudish stance, but the more he looked in on the knight he realized the picture he had drawn was not rounded but more sharp. The knight was more gentle as if it hurt to even have to slay the dragon but for his princess he would do anything. He had drawn Wayne, not his father. 

The picture would continue to lay in the box , and Eddie would put the box back in its rightful place on a shelf in his closet , but Eddie would always know that Wayne would slay his dragon. In fact he realized Wayne had been slaying them for years all in the sake of his protection. This brought a smile to his face as he left his room and made himself some dinner, making Wayne a plate to leave in the fridge so he would have something to eat before having to go to work. Tomorrow he wouldn't wait for the phone call from his father that would never come, instead he would spend it with his dad, a man who took him in and loved him for all that he was. 

An Early Morning of June 1988, Eddie paced by the phone for what seemed like hours. He started off his day by sitting , but the nervous bile that would rise in his throat had him up and down. His mind was set on hearing disappointment but you reassured him he would hear nothing of the sort. Finding himself sitting, knee bouncing as if it had a live wire in it, you start to separate things off the stove into their own spots on the kitchen aisle. A breakfast fit for a king, sausage and eggs , bacon and pancakes. All that was missing was Coffee. 

The night before you and Eddie had gone to Waynes for dinner leaving a small gift that he wasn’t supposed to open until this morning. You were sure he would open it as soon as you left but the line had stayed silent and Eddie knew for a fact he would call if he did. Given the gift he was receiving you had hoped the phone would ring sooner rather than later simply for the fact that you wanted Eddie to have peace of mind. Each second that passed you saw in Eddie’s features that he was going to the dark and weathered places. 

You and Eddie had given Wayne a mug. A small pink mug that when Wayne opened it reminded him of a diner he had not far from his house when he lived in Tennessee as a child. As Wayne poured his coffee into the mug he noticed that when he went to take a sip his hand caressed within it perfectly, a new favorite he would have to keep by the sink. As his last few sips drained the cup he saw an inscription on the bottom of the inside.

‘Pa Pa needs Coffee first’ 

A shrill ring from the telephone made you and Eddie nearly jump out of your skin. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear but before the word “hello” could leave his mouth Wayne had already started.

“Are you serious? Don’t be playing no games with me boy, cause if i have a heart attack then i'm taking your scrawny ass with me! You better be telling the truth or so help me -” 

Eddie's sniffles match Waynes as he just nods his head as if the man on the other end of the line can see him.

“I’m telling the truth, we’re having a baby girl, Uncle Wayne.”  Eddie turns as he hears a small sob leave you . You had been watching the man in front of you tell the most important person in his life the news of having your first child. It broke you in the best way.

 Eddie motioned for you to come over to him as he couldn't pull the cord far enough to reach you. He wrapped both of his arms around your neck as he held the phone to his ear letting Wayne rattle on his congratulations while you let the tears fall and land on his shirt. Eddie hoped this would be one of those moments you never forget. One that even when you were sitting next to him old and gray , he hoped this would be a memory he could always reach out for.

 Eddie hung up the phone and still having you wrapped up in his arms led you backwards. He stopped next to the fridge and opened it opting for orange juice instead of coffee. He had told you about a week or so ago that anything you couldn't do, he wouldn't do, and It was becoming a challenge. Coffee and a cigarette had been his daily routine for as long as he could remember, but having you struggle was something he was not going to let you do alone. So this morning he poured you a glass of juice along with his own and you both sat and ate the breakfast of champions, a slight Happy Father's Day on the tip of your tongue. 

Summer on the cusp of beginning in June of 1991 had bees buzzing and roses blooming . A cranky tot had been an alarm clock for you and Eddie for the past three weeks. Not only had your daughter reached the terrible twos but the heat was something she didn't like in the slightest. A stressful few months of Eddie working non stop and you finishing rotation on night shift had left you no time alone together. That would all end tonight. 

Wayne had agreed to take Angie for the weekend while you and Eddie had finally convinced your jobs to give you the time off. A rushed drive to Waynes gave you that pit feeling in your stomach and the tears that stained Angies face at your absence gave you tears to shed of your own. Mom guilt was always something you would struggle with. How could you not? Eddie squeezed your knee as he drove, peaking at you every so often to sooth the pit, he felt it too, but you deserve this. Eddie Deserved this. 

An early check-in to the hotel you had booked gave you enough time to get dressed and listen to Eddie complain about the restaurant you were taking him to having a dress code. You packed him a black blazer and a maroon button up ,but the man refused to wear slacks. Absolutely threw a fit about it, so he compromised and wore black jeans that you had to inspect for rips. While you wore a black dress that fit snugly against your soft tummy, coming up short against your thighs. If you bent over the entire place would be getting a show but you were saving that for your husband. God your husband, you loved the sound it rang through your brain, an earworm the word had become since you married. Husband, the father of your child, the man you gave your everything to and he gave you back all of himself in return. 

The dim light of the room made you squint at the incredibly small print of the menu in your hands and as you look across the table you see Eddie doing the same. 

“You see a burger here anywhere?” you roll your eyes. 

“Eddie, we did not drive an hour into the city for you to order a burger from a five star restaurant.”

“Why not?” you could see the slight slip of the corner of his mouth. You smile and turn your focus back on figuring out what to eat before the waiter comes back. The pasta sounds nice, the steak on a table across the way looks divine. You settle on a Caesar salad , Eddie orders steak and fettuccine. A beer in front of Eddie pairs with your glass of white as his hand comes across waiting for you to take hold. You indulge him as you pick up your glass with your other hand. Soft circles across your knuckles have you leaning into the table.

“Have i told you how incredible you look tonight?” Heat rushes through you at his tone, seep sultry, dark. A twist in where he laces your fingers with his own and a gleam in his eye. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

“Oh yeah? Me? What about you over there?” You return the look as the waiter sits your food in front of you interrupting whatever he was going to say.

 A tight smile is all he gives as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. He picks up his knife and you watch as he tries to cut into his steak, lifting your glass and taking a long sip you take the edge of your heels and slide it up his leg. He nearly drops his fork on the ground at the unexpected touch. Eddie stares wide eyed as he brings his food to his mouth slowly taking the bite.

You look away as if your heel isn't still making its way to his knee and sliding in between his thighs, placing your shoe right against his groin. You can see the way his body stiffens and instantly his hand is slammed against the table. It gets the attention of your waiter as if the sound was a call of his name. When he asks if you are enjoying your food and if you need anything Eddie rushes to get the words out.

“Yes! Good! Everything is delicious! Can we get the check please?” he obliges as he walks to grab the tab for the two of you. Giggling as you take in the wild look Eddie is giving you.

"You done already babe?"

"You are going to be the absolute death of me, woman.”  you pay for dinner as a treat for Fathers day, shit this whole weekend was for Fathers day. Eddie gave you hell for paying but the bruising grip on your hip as you walked through the restaurant had you knowing he was going to pay you back tenfold. 

Barely making it through the door to your hotel room Eddie had already shed the blazer you had made him wear. Lips catching between teeth and struggling to undo buttons has you both breathless and frustrated. Eddie pulls the shirt up and over his head yelling fuck it as it soars across the room. The rattle of his belt buckle sends a shiver down your spine as you sit and struggle to undo the clasp of your heels. Eddie kicks the denim that pooled around his ankles to the side as he jumps up onto the bed. His knees against the sheets, he takes one of your heels in his hands and leans it against his chest as he undoes the clasp for you. He throws the heel behind him and does the same to the other leaning over you as his hair falls around your face.

“Mhmm, I've been thinking ‘bout this all day.” your lips crash into his, a hungry, feral feeling overcomes you as you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips begin their journey down your neck and across your chest, sucking small spots and leaving small bruises, as if leading breadcrumbs to find his way back home. He reaches the hem of your dress as he nips at your thighs pushing the fabrics up so it bunches at your waist. 

“Isn't it Fathers Day, shouldn't I be the one going down on you?“ He catches your eyes as you look down and shakes his head. 

“Nope. Like you said, it's Fathers Day and that means I get whatever I want baby,  and I didn't get to have dessert.” He takes the lace between his teeth and lets it snap back in place listening as you let out a small whine from beneath him. 

“Mmm so sweet” He slips the thong along your thighs and down your legs as you let them spread for his immediate return. Except it’s not immediate, he takes his time. “So good to me, aren’t you sweetheart?” He takes his time kissing his way down your thighs to your dripping core. He drapes your legs over his shoulders as he slips his tongue through your folds and around your clit. Sucking hard as he lets the slick of your arousal coat his taste buds. Kissing your cunt as if he can’t live without its breath in his lungs. He slips his tongue into you as he lets his nose stimulate your clit. You wonder if he can breathe but the thought is lost as he slips a finger into you instead coming back to focus on that bundle of nerves. Your hands wrap themselves around his curls and grip hard, earning a moan from him that vibrates against your core as he adds another finger and a gasping moan sounding from deep within you as you chase that lightning through your core. Shaking thunderous moans of His name leave you as you give in to your husband. He slows the curl of his fingers and lets you ride out your high letting himself pant against your thigh as your grip in his hair loosens. 

Laughs from Eddie send you into a fit of your own giggles and the loving look he gives you as he hovers over you letting you taste yourself off his lips. Slow and needy you reach down and grasp Eddie's length through his boxers and a groan is made from the back of his throat.

“Eddie.” The soft moan of his name is all it takes for him to give you anything you ever wanted. Some Days it’s your laugh, other days it’s the way you take care of his daughter, but right now in this moment it’s the way you're sighing at his touch. 

You sit up pushing his shoulders back until his head hits the pillows,straddling his waist and sliding up and down his cock a few times, coating him in your slick. Lining him up with your entrance and sitting slowly until his entire length is buried inside you. A deep moan from within the both of you. You lift yourself off of him leaning back resting your hands on his thighs as the angle lets him hit that sweet spot inside of you with every drop back into his lap. The way his cock slides against your walls has you throwing your head back ,eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Uh uh , Look at me , Let me see you baby.”  your chest heaves with each thrust he sends upwards into you, unable to form words. A sudden flip has you separated from Eddie right as you were on the cusp.

“I said look at me Baby, Come on. What ? dick so good you’ve gone dumb?”  He slams into you and the sounds of his skin slapping yours, as he fucks you into the mattress, echoes off the walls.” God you’re so tight. Squeezin the fuck outta me.” You whine as he lifts you so your chest is flush with his own. “Look so good underneath me ,gonna fuck you full baby.” 

“Yes , god yes Fuck Eddie, fill me up.” you moan through each thrust, right against his ear. You reach your climax gushing around Eddie a small spray reaching his abdomen and wetting the sheets beneath you. Nail marks scratching down his back send him into his own orgasm as he coats the walls within you thick, falling forward with you under him. A weight you would always welcome. Both of you lay in utter bliss for what feels like forever before he slips out of you. You hiss at the empty feeling but welcome the warm rag Eddie drags across your center. A glass of water is given to you as you lay tangled in the sheets bringing them to your chest as you gulp down every drop. A small smile on Eddie's face has you feeling like you did the first time you saw him. Unbelievably awestruck. 

“What's on your mind Honey?” He thinks for a second but gives you an answer far from what you expect. 

“I think we just made our second child.” loud and blissfully you laugh. 

“One not enough? “ His dimples practically touch each other as he purses his lips, letting his tongue glide over the bottom.

“One is plenty, but I just can't help but want a little more of you in the world.” you sit up on your knees as you bring Eddies face down to your own, sliding a hand across his cheek as your lips meet.

"I wouldn’t mind a little more of you out there either.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #dad eddie munson #wayne munson #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #mae blurbs

[bg-brainrot]

Day 5 of winter fluff with Astarion for the BG3 Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Delicacies

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: You receive a lovely gift of seasonal delicacies from Alfira, a thanks for helping her set up her new school and being her favorite source of musical inspiration. When you realize that Astarion can’t partake, you find an alternative.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, tw: blood

Word count: ~1.1k

Disclaimer: Google told me sugar can take as little as 10 min to enter your bloodstream, so that’s what I’m rolling with.

“What’s this?” As you arrive home, you find a package on your front steps. A small note is tied to it with a delicate purple ribbon. Taking a moment to read the attached note, your face lights up with joy. “Ooo, I need to share this with Astarion!”

You find your vampiric love in front of his favorite spot of the house– the fireplace. Considering how cold it is outside, you’re unsurprised to find him laid before it, like a lounging feline. “Astarion,” you call, checking to see if he’s awake.

He looks up at you hazily, shaking off what seems to be a heat-induced stupor. “Mmm, yes my love? Welcome home.”

“Astarion,” you say again, “Look at what Alfira sent us!”

The man finally sits up, eyes focusing on the package in your hands. “Alfira?” he asks, not fully processing your words yet.

“She sent us this thank you gift,” you say, handing Astarion the box as you move to take off your coat. “You should read her note.”

He pulls the piece of parchment free from the ribbon and reads it aloud, “To my favorite inspirational couple. Thank you for everything, and may the– ugh, she’s too saccharine for my liking.”

“Oh?” you ask, taking a seat next to Astarion on the floor. “I quite liked it. ‘May the ballad of your love continue forevermore.’”

“I may have to ensure that that song she’s writing about us never sees the light of day…” the vampire says in a low tone, though you know the threat has no genuine animosity to it.

You do still give him a good elbow and take the box back from him. “If you’re not going to appreciate that poor, innocent bard’s gift, I will.”

Astarion gives a ‘tsk’, but smiles at you all the same. “Very well, let’s see what she’s sent us.”

With deft fingers, you undo the box’s wrapping, slicing open the ribbon in a single twist. You can feel Astarion’s chuckle as he leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder. “What’s so funny?”

“Just admiring how easily you dispatch your foes, whether they be brain or box,” he answers, and you catch his appreciative smirk out of the corner of your eye.

You give an inelegant snort at his words before tapping his head with your own. “You should see what I can do to vampires.”

"Oh darling, I know full well how easily you dispatch me."

You’re certain he can feel the heat come over your face and neck, but you ignore his words as you open the box in your lap. “Huh,” is the only word that escapes your mouth when you look at its contents.

“Are those chocolates?” Astarion asks, looking down at the box with distaste. In it lay four rows of artisanal chocolates, each a distinct, beautifully tempered delicacy. “She knows I’m a vampire, doesn’t she?"

“Absolutely, she kept asking me for words that rhyme with sanguine,” you say, looking down at the box of sweets in confusion.

Astarion opens his mouth, as if to offer a rhyme, only to close it a second later. “What does rhyme with sanguine?”

“Hells if I know, I’m not a bard,” you answer with a shrug. Astarion grumbles at the sudden movement and leans further into your shoulder with a huff. “Why did she send us something you can’t eat?”

That’s when you spot another note from Alfira, in much more casual lettering, on the inside of the box. ‘I wasn’t sure what I could get for Astarion. I don’t know how his kind work exactly, but I know he calls you his’– the next word is written in a smaller, slightly shakier hand– ‘treat.’ The note continues normally after that. ‘So I hope it’s something you can have together.’

You laugh at how innocent she manages to be, even in writing. “She’s adorable.”

The man next to you takes offense to this, burying his face in your neck now. “Excuse me,” he murmurs into your skin. “You dare.” He places a kiss on your neck. “Say that.” A kiss on your jaw. “With your adorable.” Another kiss on your ear. “Lover right here?”

His pecks leave your skin heated, and you’re tempted to give into his loving attention. However the chocolates look delectable and Alfira’s suggestion is calling to you. “Would that adorable lover listen to me for a moment?”

His lips stop on your shoulder, and he looks at you through his lashes. “You have five seconds.”

It takes you a bit over five seconds, but you explain to Astarion your plan: you taste the chocolate, he tastes your blood. You rinse and repeat until, ideally, you’re both in a sugar-induced coma.

After placing another kiss on your neck, near where he typically bites, the vampire agrees. “Your blood does taste particularly heavenly after a few glasses of wine. I imagine this could be even more… exquisite.” He all but growls the last word, as if he can already taste your sweet blood on his tongue.

You shiver under his breath and grab your first chocolate: a circular truffle, decorated with a pink drizzle. “Let’s try it then.”

This chocolate is a dark chocolate raspberry truffle, incredibly decadent and delicious. You describe it to Astarion as you chew, in case it might make tasting your blood all the more satisfying. After enough time has passed to allow the chocolate’s sugar to enter your bloodstream, he gives you a gentle squeeze with his arms and bites into your neck.

You can feel his soft hum on your skin as he savors it, and he pulls away a second later. “So?” you ask. “How was it?”

Astarion licks his lips to capture any remaining traces of blood and gives you a pleased grin. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright with bliss. “Mmm, I think Alfira was onto something. That was divine. I don’t think your blood’s ever been so… rich.”

There’s something about his demeanor, his expression, his compliment, that make you feel especially proud. “Should we try another?”

“Yes, my love. I would like that quite a bit,” he says, laying back on your shoulder while you pick out your next chocolate.

It’s only as you’re chewing your third sweet, a warm apple cider flavor, that you realize why you’re so proud: for the very first time since you’ve known Astarion, you’re able to share a piece of your mortality with him. Flavors may not be the same to him anymore, he may not get the chewy nougat or melting caramel, but it’s something– at the very least you can share this.

The smiles you share that night are warm, the flavors sensational, and the love so very sweet.

You’ll have to send Alfira your own thank you gift later.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #bg3holidayfluffle23

[alittlehurtwithyourcomfort]

Vigilante Kdrama Whumplist

Character: Kim Ji Yong (played by Nam Joo-hyuk)

Age Rating: TV-MA

Show available on Hulu

Genre: Crime, Mystery, Action, Superhero

Synopsis: Kim Ji Yong, a student at the police academy, lost his mother at the hands of a local gangster when he was young; he becomes a vigilante and kills criminals. (via Google)

Note: This is a dark series, there's a good amount of whump but be careful watching because it handles very sensitive subjects.

TW's: blood and gore, violence towards women and children, domestic abuse, gun violence, sexual assault/non-con, suicide, mental illness

List Key:

bold = most whump, best whump, or favorite whump scenes

~ = a scene break

THIS LIST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES!

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

1x01: angry, punched, covered in blood (not his own), teary-eyed ~~ sparred ~~ multiple fights, angry

1x02: angry, worried ~~ angry, pushed up against a wall and kissed (kind of non-consensual), drugged, very out of it ~~ rough awakening, frustrated ~~ teary-eyed ~~ covered in blood (not his own) teary-eyed ~~ exhausted

1x03: stressed ~~ angry, heavy breathing

1x04: rough fight, argued, bloody face ~~ treating cuts on his face ~~ bruised and bandaged face ~~ confrontation

1x05: fought, stressed ~~ chased, angry, teary-eyed, very rough fight, choked, very bloody face, struggling to breathe

1x06: (scene cont. from previous ep) strained voice, punched, collapsed, groaning ~~ unconscious in hospital bed, slowly waking up, bandaged, bruised face, oxygen cannula ~~ bruised face ~~ covered in blood (not his own) ~~ angry

1x07: stressed ~~ argued, teary-eyed 

1x08: fought, cut face ~~ very rough fights, bloody face and mouth, sad, stabbed in the leg, in pain, collapsed, weak, unconscious ~~ bandaged, bruised face

#whump #whump community #whumplist #whump blog #whumplists #kdrama whump #whump recs #kdrama whumplist #vigilante #vigilante kdrama #nam joo hyuk

[sovasleepy]

“you will be fine.”

[ cypher x gn!reader ] a mission goes wrong, a mission that you’re caught up in. cypher can’t loose you too.

tw: reader is injured. descriptions of blood and brief mention of guns.

notes: this will probably be part of a larger series.. i’m a sucker for this trope idk. anyway, my (arabic) bsf says that ‘hobi’ is a term of endearment + google backed that up but please lmk if i messed up. thanks for reading!

his dark eyes had turned to you whenever the “good work, now lets head home” had come through the radio.

a familiar sense of relief had washed over him, one that he was usually skeptical to accept but one that was welcomed nonetheless. he wished he would have been a little more skeptical this time.

he watched as you smiled at him, then watched as your smile quickly fell. your eyes locked onto something on the ground behind him. you opened your mouth to speak, but you were interrupted by the sound of a singular gunshot.

the next few seconds happened very quickly. in one quick motion, cypher had turned and returned fire. the opposing agent dropped instantly.

and then, as cypher realized exactly where the other bullet had to have gone, time slowed down.

the air felt heavy.

not that it actually was, just that it felt as though the room was small. too small, and in such a way that it felt as though the room was closing in on him and his lungs were being filled.

cypher shouted. didn’t know if the others could hear him. he couldn’t even hear himself, although he felt like he was yelling. or maybe that was normal, what with the ringing noise and blood running in his ears and being already half-deaf from the gun that had just been fired so close to him.

he took in the scene before him in pieces at first. your gun laying on the ground, magazine still unloaded. the almost perfectly circular hole in your clothing. the crimson liquid pooling out of the wound in your left shoulder. your armor laying half-askew on your body. your glassy eyes staring up and involuntary tears slipping out of your eyes.

and then, he let the pieces form a full picture.

he was at your side before the image even registered in his mind. a gloved thumb wiped the tears that slipped from your eyes, the other attempting to apply pressure to the wound.

“you’re fine,” his throat was closing up, despite his best attempts at trying to soothe you. “you’re going to be just fine, hobi. just stay with me, okay? everything is going to be just fine.”

chamber’s hands grabbed at him first. and then it was brimstone. he felt their touches, but they felt more like a distant memory than anything significant. later, he would be told how much he tried to struggle out of their grasps just to be near you.

“they need room to work,” brimstone spoke in reference to sage and the medics who had just landed with the helicopter. cypher didn’t hear him.

at some point, he stopped fighting. he lay limp in the other’s arms. he doesn’t really remember walking to the helicopter or getting in it. he barely remembers the flight back, save for the way he was staring at you the entire time. the bright red of blood had covered his gloves, beading along the surface of the black waterproof fabric. it was dried and mostly rubbed off in some way now, but he took them off to wipe the dirt from your face.

“they will be fine.” sage said, confidence in her voice but a quiver accompanying it nonetheless.

“you will be fine.” he repeated sage’s words to your sleeping figure softly, almost so quietly that no one could hear it.

#cypher x reader #valorant x reader #cypher comfort #cypher x you #cypher x y/n #valorant x you #valorant x y/n #valorant #cypher #amir el amari #amir el amari x reader #; valorant

[dearest-painter]

Everyone wants my mom! PT. 1

Summary: Y/N is a widow and the mother of smiles morales, all she has now is her son and his uncle. While she knows smiles and his uncle are getting money for the apartment she isn’t sure how but when she sees someone that looks exactly like her son mysteries and obsession are soon shown.

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,GOOGLE TRANSLATE IS USED AS IM A NO SABO KID! IF THERE IS ANYTHING THAT WILL HELP ME GET A MORE ACCURATE TRANSLATION PLEASE SEND IT TO ME!!,Reader is Earth 42!Rio,Reader is unaware that her son is the prowler,Reader needs therapy,very out of character characters,this is a series,Her family is keeping secrets from her,Reader is feels out of place sometimes,reader has anxiety which is based off of me,Reader takes the Role of Earth 42!Rio but can look like however you wanna look like so you don’t need to stick with being Rio just an FYI,A ‘I 💙 your mom’ photo is used because I couldn’t find SHIT for Earth 42 Rio and it works since like almost every spider adult wants her,Rearer knows about the spider society and the multiverse because of Ben Riley/Scarlet spider,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

You love your son, that was very obvious from anyone who saw you knew your son meant the world for you but you knew every child will hide something from their parents. It’s natural for that as kids aren’t forced to tell their parents every little thing but all you wish is for him to be safe. After the death of your husband, Miles and his uncle Aaron became more overprotective of you but you also became a single parents and became the basically only income yet if it weren’t for whatever job Aaron does you and Miles would’ve been in a different place.

Miles joins his uncle at his job which makes you happy as he can have someone to look up, you just needed someone else to help you with Miles. He’s not a bad kid it’s just..you wanna make sure he has someone else to look out for him if you aren’t around. “Mom” You turned to your son smiling. “Sì hijo?” “I’m going with uncle Aaron, just telling you before leaving” you sighed and continued to smile as you hug your son. “Okay…be safe, Te amo” “Te amo mom” Miles hugged back and smiled. He knew you wouldn’t like it if you found out he was the prowler as he gets hurt and gets the money in a bad way.

Everything he does is for you, he promised his father that he’ll protect you and he’ll make sure to do that. You kissed his forehead then hugged him again. “Just be safe..both of you” “of course mama, we’ll be safe” you smiled then let him go as he went to uncle Aaron’s car. You sighed and laid on the couch as you decided to watch some random show as there wasn’t chores needed to do yet so just relaxing is what you want until the window was knocked so you looked up to see Ben Riley. “God fucking damn it Ben!” You got up and opened the window then yanked him in so you could shut the window.

“Ow” “I don’t care! I just laid down! I’m not cooking as I’m to tired!” “I’ll cook” you stared at Ben and he smiled sheepishly but you sighed knowing it’s better then having no food. “Fine…but don’t fucking kill me” Ben chuckled and nodded as he went to the kitchen while you laid back down on the couch. You met Ben awhile ago and learnt about his group named ‘Spider society’ and learnt there are more Spider-Man or women and more universes. It’s very confusing but in easy way..your basically not alone and there is a timeline where Miles has his dad.

It was comforting to have someone at home with you when Miles went to hangout with his uncle as you aren’t left alone with your thoughts but sometimes the occasional ‘Miles is hurt, call him now’ or ‘check the whole house so that no one will get inside’ or ‘what if Miles and Aaron are hurt as well!? You don’t wanna lose your whole family!’ will creep in but usually you’ll find a way to soothe them. “I made tamales” “oh thank god, your tamales actually taste good” “hey I make good food!” “Your other ones need more working on” Ben dramatically gasped while you chuckled and got some tamales…it feels like your husband is still alive with you.

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x female reader #female reader #fem reader #romantic yandere #yandere spiderverse #yandere spider man across the spider verse #part 1 of many #Everyone wants my mom series #Earth 42 Rio!Reader #E42 Rio!Reader