#Ooc: whoever sent that you mentally hurt me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovedinapastlife · 3 years

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Rec List

Hey. It’s me. Sunlit Garden on AO3. If you would like to find a bughead fic, beta, be long-term groomed with positive feedback and helpfulness, then have your self-confidence chipped away, be isolated from other support systems, be negged, insulted, and emotionally harassed/toyed with to output to her idea of perfection -- or find someone who did this to others and will most likely weasel their way into doing it again -- I recommend none other than jandjsalmon, the gal who runs theblueandgoldoffice - a handy fic-finding website.

I made a prior post about my personal experience but apparently not everyone knew it was her because I didn’t name her specifically. Hopefully, this is the last post I’ll ever make about her. A lot of wonderful people reached out with similar experiences or sympathy but I’ve also seen some continue to interact with her or rec her as someone to follow. Now, I’m putting it in the tags. Her name is out there. If I see her on rec lists, at least I know the info is out there that she abused me and others and whoever posted didn’t want to deal with having to deal with her bullshit of her harassing them or they think I’m a liar. I have nothing to lose in this fandom or to gain by outing her. I’m doing it because I don’t want her to be introduced to new waves of authors/readers/people will trust her without protecting themselves or doing something to protect others. Unfortunately, me and the victims I talked to did not feel comfortable sharing how much she hurt us with each other until she’d done a fair amount of damage, and we were all trying to make it work with her until we hit a breaking point.

As a reminder... this is just a potential scenario based on past experience.

If you do become mutuals, and she thinks you have an ounce of fandom fame or MIGHT post things she likes if she bugs you enough, she might make you aesthetics, reblog, comment, buddy up to your friends to get closer to you, find out and exploit your insecurities or mental illness, notably withdraw support to prove a point if you like something she doesn’t or even show love for another person who doesn’t love her, keep records of your convos, show them to other people, vague post about you (sometimes even going so far as to message you without you even asking to make sure you know ‘oh it wasn’t about you’ to rub salt in that wound), let her husband talk shit about and to you even when on good terms with her, and try to get involved in your personal life to be your (only) best friend and support system... only to tell you you are nothing without her, people rely on her for recs and she can turn the tides on fandom favorites, you should not write original works because original romance is “disgusting” YA is “immature” and no one likes your work and your mind is too fucked up to be productive without her. No one will love you or have time for you like her.

She will insist you include scenes even if you don’t want them there, then try to claim she helped write your fic in the comments of it when all she did was tell you to add something you already wrote and deleted back in, though she did comment on the doc and talk through your million ideas and pick her favorite OF YOUR OWN IDEAS and help with grammar. She will also tell you at least one of your fics is disgusting and berate you to the point of not wanting to post it, especially if it shows Betty even slightly interested in someone besides Jughead at some point in her life, claiming “that’s not her!” but OOC or Jughead with past/current partners is no problem... and she will be very apologetic to have to tell you and make you feel bad, but brag in DMs of her friends that she “made you change your mind” and “taught you how to think” if you eventually cave and adjust something. Conversations become drags where you agree with what she says just to avoid confrontations and meltdowns sometimes.

If you talk to her and try to rebuild your friendship or set boundaries, she will either lash out or apologize and be good for a few days until she can find a reason to turn on you again. When you distance yourself for protection or make new friends, she will harass you in DMs asking why you unfollowed (even if it’s a tumblr glitch) or followed so and so, why you did or didn’t like something, tell you how awful everyone except her is, and try to get you to talk shit about your own friends when you know she’s talking shit about you, too.

Oh and if you compliment her on something you’re considered good at that she’s insecure about (prompted or unprompted), be prepared to be called a fake liar and a judgmental bitch in general for having an opinion -- yes, even if it’s positive, so imagine how fun it was to disagree on something neither of us even made.

She is not a neutral party when it comes to abuse and harassments either. Despite being very anti-cheating, she stoutly defends the Sprouse brothers despite multiple women and outlets coming forward claiming they cheated on or abused their partners, claiming the sources are “crazy” or “jealous” or “unprofessional.” I have some pretty ironic in retrospect screenshots someone sent me of some of her rants but I won’t post them publicly here. What Jandy told me of her former victims was that they blocked her for no reason. She was nothing but supportive of them and they got too big for their britches and had other friends and abandoned her. I’m sure she says similar if not worse things about me for calling her out and cutting her off.

So yeah, it will be uncomfortable to unfollow, ghost, and/or block her. It might even be inconvenient because of the service she provides to this fandom. But please keep in mind that even the slight fear/dread of her shadow-banning or harassing you is a sign that she’s affected you, too.

If you really miss that one extra comment per chapter, hit me up. I’ve got a lot going on but I’ll make an exception for people who need that extra support as long as I can. For additional support, please see local and online organizations to talk to a professional or volunteer trained to help with emotional abuse, toxicity, depressive, or anxious thoughts like therealdepressionproject. Good luck and have a wonderful day.

#Riverdale fandom negativity #bughead fandom negativity #cw: abuse #jandjsalmon

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hydra-collector · 4 years

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love & death & kisses

AO3

Pairings: Anxceit, platonic Analogical

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Janus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders (mentioned), Remus Sanders (mentioned)

TW: suicide attempts, self-harm, cursing, panic attacks, v v v slightly implied sexual content, food

Words: 4,153

Summary: Virgil meets someone.

Note: Human AU, I’m bad at naming, bad at summaries, Janus is ooc, i swear this is one of my better fics

Rain seeped into Virgil’s clothes, making him even colder than he already was. He’d forgotten his umbrella at work, so he’d have to get it tomorrow. Funny how things work that way. You put things off to the side for a rainy day, but when you need them they’re not there.

A tall, slim man stood beside him. He would usually avoid other people at the train station as much as he could, but he didn’t care at this point. He was cold, tired, in a depressive episode, and frankly too out of it to care.

The other man didn’t have an umbrella either, but seemed much less bothered by it. He checked his phone occasionally, but only typed something once or twice, aside from a seemingly frustrating venture on Google Maps from what Virgil could see. He was more on edge by whatever he was seeing on his phone than the weather.

“Excuse me, do you know where the nearest hotel is?”

The first thing he noticed was that the man was absolutely beautiful.

The second was his scar.

A wide scar, seemingly a burn mark, covered the entirety of the left side of his face. It traveled down his neck and past his shirt where Virgil couldn’t see it. His left hand had it as well, a pair of gloves stuffed in his pocket. His eyes were also heterochromatic, one much paler than the dark brown of the other.

Virgil didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially after the earlier events of the day, but he tried his best. He subtly hugged his side to provide pressure comfort.

“I think there’s one a couple blocks from Edwards Station. I don’t remember if it’s south or north. I can check.”

Virgil pulled out his own phone and found that it was half a mile north. Logan had sent him a text asking him why he was so late. He didn’t want to explain that he had to spend an hour on a bench in the pouring rain, trying to calm down from a panic attack. The stranger confirmed and checked his phone again, sighing when he didn’t find what he wanted.

Virgil could see his screen slightly. He’d been talking to a contact named April, both of them using a lot of cursewords angrily at each other. It looked like a pretty bad breakup. He figured he’d been kicked out.

The train arrived a few minutes after that. Virgil was never going to be comfortable with the thought of a big, heavy object rocketing in his general direction, but he wasn’t attempting suicide or anything at the moment. He learned to deal with it.

“Sorry, Logan, I’m here now.”

Logan had been Virgil’s roommate for almost three years now. He’d been his best friend even longer. He was the one there for him when he needed it most.

“What happened?”

Logan was making dinner for the two of them, which Virgil was disappointed to find out. The rule was they could make each other meals, but whoever made it got to choose what it was, and Virgil has never known Logan to make anything junkier than chili. Virgil had got him to eat macaroni and cheese a few times, so he counted that as a win.

“I… had a pretty bad panic attack.”

“Is there anything I can do to help now?”

“I think I’ll be okay. You don’t give bad hugs, though.”

Logan smiled slightly and hugged his friend firmly. He’d looked up the best ways to comfort people physically and figured out what was best for Virgil.

“Thanks, L. What’s for dinner?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to make it yourself.”

“Hey, you have plenty! You’re using two pans!”

“You hate fish, Virgil.”

“That’s fish? Ew.”

“What did you think it was?”

Virgil shrugged.

“Go get dry clothes.”

Virgil changed into another, softer hoodie and sweatpants. He figured he’d get something to eat later. He could go a couple hours scrolling on Tumblr or something before he’d be really hungry.

When he turned his phone on, it was still open to the hotel directions.

I hope that guy’s alright.

He’d seen him a few times before, he realized. The unmistakable bleached hair against the man’s dark clothing he recognized had never been put to a face, but he’d been at the train station a few times before. Virgil vaguely wondered if he got off work at the same time as he did and it was a coincidence seeing him today since his whole thing with April, or whoever.

You don’t know what happened, shut up.

Virgil squeezed his arm with his fingernails, hoping to make his self-hate go away.

Today was exhausting.

He didn’t want to go to work the next day.

He’d had another bad day. His boss complained about the quality of his work again. It seemed he was fucking everything up lately. He’d gotten Roman angry at him for an insult accidentally personal, and Logan angry at him because he’d started cutting again. Who could blame him, though? It was just so much easier to cope by hurting than actually trying to help himself. At least he was still showering.

At least it wasn’t raining.

It felt like it, though. There was weight on his shoulders and chest, and he needed to cry. He wished he could afford a therapist. Then again, did he even deserve help?

Stop.

His inner voice was right. He should stop being so self-deprecating, it was annoying, he’d always been an attention seek-

Stop.

Virgil exhaled, rubbing his forehead and sitting down on the bench instead of standing for the train.

“Didn’t get to thank you. For the directions.”

“Hm?”

It was the man again. This was the first time he’d seen him in the few days since then.

“I needed a place to stay, thanks for telling me where it was. I tried looking it up, then texting my girlfriend to ask her if… I ran out of data, I wouldn’t have been able to get there if you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh. You’re welcome. Glad you found the hotel.”

He half-wished he didn’t have to talk to anyone right now, but something drew him towards this man.

And then he initiated a conversation. For once in his life.

“You just get off work?”

“Yeah. I work at the zoo. Reptile house.”

“Wow. I just have a boring tech job. I’m assuming you like reptiles, which one’s your favorite?”

“It’s basic, but I’ve always liked snakes. I have three.”

“I could never handle snakes. I know they probably won’t hurt me, but I’m anxious about everything.”

Am I oversharing? Should I be talking about my anxiety? Is that weird?

“I have a deathly fear of spiders, so that’s valid.”

Virgil would have said something else, but the train came, and it was difficult to talk onboard. It was weird how easy it was to talk to this person, even though he’d just met him.

They’d got to talking about snakes.

Big breeds, small breeds, the most dangerous, the least dangerous kinds of snakes. Virgil swore he was being converted to like reptiles by this man. He talked about them with so much excitement, more than he showed any other time. Mostly he was calm and collected, a bit like Logan.

“I never got your name.”

“Oh, it’s Janus.”

Like, Janice?

“As in the Roman god, not like suburban mom.”

“Ah. Virgil.”

Neither of them smiled often, so whenever someone who knew them saw the smile, it always made them a bit happier as well. It was already happening with them, even a week or two into knowing each other.

“What kind of snakes do you have?”

“I’ve got a green tree python, a corn snake, and a ball python. Diana, Mercury, Liber.”

“All Roman names, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd.”

“It’s fitting.”

It was so easy to talk to him. More so than any other stranger. Usually he’d get anxious and all his energy would be expended (he usually had a mental breakdown if it was a lot of people). Something about him, the way he talks, moves, looks at Virgil. He’s like a reptile.

Don’t get a crush on him. He’s probably straight.

Maybe he isn’t, though. He could be bi or pan or something.

The train interrupted their conversation, but Virgil kept glancing over at Janus throughout. He was looking down at his phone, he must’ve gotten more service. Virgil got off after him, but it gave him time to consider Janus before he got home.

“Logan, I’m getting a crush on a straight guy and I just found out his name today.”

“You’re odd, Virgil.”

“He’s hot. And he likes snakes.”

“You hate snakes. Wouldn’t someone with an interest in spiders be more akin to you?”

“...He’s scared of spiders.”

“Virgil…”

And he did get a crush on Janus.

They talked every day they saw each other, finally remembering they could exchange numbers. They spent months getting to know each other with pretty limited interactions, as neither of them texted or called much anyway. It wasn’t exactly a good thing, though, because he either spent his time at work thinking about Janus, panicking because his boss was mad at him because he wasn’t doing his work (because he was thinking about Janus), or completely depressed because he was angry at her for giving him a panic attack. And the cycle would continue.

It turned out April was his girlfriend, and they’d been in an unhappy relationship for a year or so. He was glad she’d broke it off, but was left without a house for a while. He’d managed to share an apartment with his friend Remus and that was going okay. Virgil didn’t tell him about his depression, but was open enough about his anxiety. Luckily for Virgil, he mentioned an ex-boyfriend.

He was not straight. Maybe he had a chance.

Are you kidding? He’s not gonna want to date you, worthless bitch. You can’t make him deal with your mental health, and he probably hates you anyway.

Their interactions were mostly limited to the train station, but that only meant Virgil appreciated them even more.

Still, he wished he could be happy.

The only times he was were, well, when he was talking to Janus and when Logan gave him hugs. Talking to Logan was enjoyable, but he kept reminding himself about everything going on, everything wrong with himself, how he kept fucking up, and cutting and wanting to kill himself. With Janus, he forgot. It was so easy to smile and laugh at sarcastic jokes and the cute things he did, like blush when he laughed and stick out his tongue unintentionally.

Time flew by when they were together. There wasn’t enough time before the train came to talk nearly as long as Virgil would have liked. Still, every interaction was worth it. His love for Janus grew the more he talked about what he does, and he actually seemed interested in Virgil’s job, even though he swore it must be the most boring on the planet.

“I think you’ve conquered my fear of snakes, Janus.”

“What’s this? I’ve shown my little ball of anxiety the ways of the snake with my own love for him and reptiles.”

My little ball of anxiety? And did he just say he loved me?

Was he thinking about this too much?

One corner of his mouth was raised in a smile and Virgil couldn’t help but blush, however much he wanted to ignore it. Janus chuckled slightly and picked up the conversation again, mentioning how Diana had gotten out and managed to get herself on the couch. Virgil proceeded as well, debating whether it meant anything or not.

Virgil felt sick.

He felt all things horrible. Depressed, anxious, angry, hopeless, and worthless.

Over and over it repeated.

“I’m afraid someone as unstable as you isn’t fit to work here.”

Unstable.

Unhealthy.

Worthless.

Useless.

What was he going to do? He wouldn’t have money to keep living with Logan, he had to go through the stress of finding another job, people would judge him, he wouldn’t even be able to eat.

There was nothing he could do.

He trembled as he made his way to the train station. He was going to have a panic attack. Hell, maybe he was already having a panic attack. He wanted to cry but he wouldn’t cry. He had to go home and explain to Logan and he’d just have to live until-

No you don’t.

Of course he didn’t.

He was going to the train station, goddamnit.

He rubbed his hands on his face, static buzzing in his ears as tears almost came. This was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay. Finally.

He went up a different set of stairs, avoiding Janus. As he walked, the static slowly faded and was replaced with silence. Chosen silence, that is. He could hear the cars and the wind and the rain that had just begun to fall.

Fitting.

The train was early today, thank God. Its rumbling was familiar from the distance.

He took his last few steps to the edge of the platform, ignoring the tiny bit of anxiety that came with jumping down. He vaguely heard his name called over and over by the deep voice he knew well by now. He ignored it as well, starting with a slow walk, letting the raindrops soak into his hoodie. The walk sped up, and the rain got heavier, blurring out the train’s lights in a pretty way. He forced the muffled sound of his name out again, but it was getting louder.

There’s nothing you can do.

The walk got faster and turned into a run. He needed to catch the train before it slowed down.

Funny. Catching the train.

His ears pounded with the silence. So many things to distract him, things he loved. The awful sound of rain, knowing you’re going to get wet, but reveling in it anyway. The patter of feet on ground, now wood and gravel. And his voice, his beautiful voice.

The screech from the train stopped all other sounds, even splitting the silence in the bubble he created. It was warm, he hoped it was blood, so warm, so wonderfully warm.

Janus had never hugged Virgil.

He’d assumed he wasn’t one for being touchy-feely. He was tall and handsome, like the stereotypical distant, sexy man. But he wasn’t distant. He was there when Virgil needed him, even if he didn’t always know it. He put a hand on his shoulder or took Virgil’s hands in his to calm him down. He wished he’d gotten to know what kind of embrace he would have. Was it soft? Was it firm like Logan’s? Was it too tight? Was it always awkward like some people’s?

More than that, he wanted to know how his kisses were.

He imagined them soft, then passionate. Like something Virgil had always needed, the sweet feeling of pure love. He imagined he was the type to give solemn forehead kisses when a moment was serious, and short nose ones when the moments were playful. He imagined he’d kiss wherever he could on someone’s face, on his cheeks and chin, nose, lips, neck. They’d all be perfect for the occasion. There was a difference between a peck on someone’s cheek and smushing his lips against someone’s face. A slow kiss to the jaw was different from a badly-aimed one. Every subtle difference in position would say something new.

“I love you.”

“Shut up.”

“I need you right now.”

“You need me.”

He wished he’d learned every message. He wished he’d kissed Janus before today. He wished he’d at least told him and got rejected like he knew he would. He wished he could have everything. A hug and a kiss saying ‘it’s going to be okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to you. It’s-’

“-going to be okay.”

The sound of the rain hit the stones sharply, akin to the feeling on his back. Voices shouting, his voice, and a new sound.

His heart.

Virgil let himself sink into the rhythm and the feeling of warmth that encompassed him. Something was soft through the damp fabric, moving slightly every now and then. It was the pressure of something, a body-

-Janus.

He opened his eyes to see the blurry outline of blond hair covering Janus’s face. He raised his arm slowly to push it away, just then noticing the arms wrapped tightly around him, using the most of their surface area.

Janus’s eyes were beautiful and sad, was he- crying? Virgil couldn’t tell if it was the rain or tears until he sobbed, hugging Virgil even tighter, burying his face in his shoulder and muttering words Virgil couldn’t hear.

Virgil realized he was crying too. Of course he was crying, he was… alive.

He was alive.

“I’m sorry, Virgil. Please, please know I’m here for you.”

Virgil said nothing, still mute from shock. So many things happened just then, and now he was being hugged. And it was perfect, despite the rain.

“I could’ve- should’ve died.”

“No, Virgil, you shouldn’t have. You couldn’t have, I’d never let you.”

Did he really care?

“I need to- I need to tell you something.”

This could go horribly wrong.

I don’t care anymore. I’ve made the most impulsive decision of my life today, might as well make another.

Virgil took his hand to push Janus’s chin up, thumb tracing the scar closer to his lips.

“Can I-”

“Can I kiss you, Jan?”

He let his head drop towards Virgil’s, lips so close now. He would have smiled his snake smile if he could have felt an ounce of a smile.

Virgil pressed his parted lips to Janus’s, hand resting on the back of his neck. He pulled his fingers through his wet hair, feeling its softness even now.

It was everything he had imagined.

At first it was soft and tender, but Janus deepened it, hand wriggling out from under Virgil to hold his face. The raindrops drowned out that moment from the outside world. Janus’s heart quickened, as did Virgil’s, but they both relaxed into it. The scar was rough against Virgil’s face sometimes, but it only made him want him more. All either of them could hear were the raindrops contrasting with their hearts.

Virgil wanted to kiss him longer, hold this forever. When they did break, Janus laid his burned cheek against Virgil’s.

“Do you need to go home?”

He thought of Logan and how upset he was when Virgil cut, how hard he tried and how bad he felt for him. And how bad Virgil felt for hurting him.

“Can we go to your place? It’s... closer.”

“Oh- I suppose we could. I doubt Remus will be there.”

They avoided the people trying to help Virgil, weaving through the few scattered onlookers, Janus’s arm resting around Virgil’s waist. Virgil was scared he would have a panic attack again and tried to focus on Janus.

He called a cab as he wasn’t about to take the train after that, and sat in the backseat with Virgil, not letting him go for a second. It was expensive and Virgil tried to get Janus to let him pay, but he didn’t have much of an argument. Janus half-carried Virgil up the stairs and into his apartment.

It was clean, which Virgil guessed was Janus’s doing given what he’d said about Remus, and fairly dark. It wasn’t the kind of dark that made you feel uneasy, but rather as in lighted only with soft ambient light. He didn’t get a good look at their living room before Janus pulled him into his bedroom. It was painted a pretty yellow and lit with a color changing lamp, which Janus turned to purple.

He sat Virgil down on the bed, who was still rather dazed from the day. Janus rummaged through his clothing drawers until he found a shirt smaller than the others and an old-looking pair of sweatpants.

“Here, you can change into this.”

Janus grabbed some clothes for himself and left the room for a moment, allowing him privacy. Virgil removed his soaked hoodie and Evanescence t-shirt, putting on the soft purple one Janus had found. It had short sleeves, but he didn’t have anything to lose at this point. He put on the sweatpants, soft and warm and opened the door for Janus. He was changed into a big hoodie that Virgil would kill to wear.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah, I- I think so. Sorry about the, the cuts.”

“It’s okay, Virgil. If you want me to get you something with long sleeves-”

“I think I’ll just end up stealing your hoodie at some point. Otherwise… it’s fine.”

“Okay.”

Virgil sat down on the bed again, craving the soft blankets. Janus took his spot beside him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders.

“Thanks, Jan. It- I’m, I’m alive because of you. I don’t know how I could repay that.”

“Tell me when this happens, and I’d die happy.”

Virgil smiled, leaning against Janus. He pushed himself against the wall, pulling Virgil along with him. He heaved the thick blanket around him and Virgil, but mostly Virgil. He snuggled into the weight and comfort, still sitting against Janus as if he were the only thing keeping him balanced.

“What happened today?”

“I got… fired. ‘Cause I’m too depressed to work. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“I can help you find a job, V. It doesn’t have to be the end.”

“Sometimes it just… feels that way. Like you’re never going to get out of this pit of loneliness and you’re sure everyone hates you, and you’re so scared something will go wrong all the time even though you don’t really care.”

“I don’t hate you. And I know you can end this the healthy way. Shall we start with some ice cream?”

“Ice cream’s not exactly healthy, Janus.”

“Ssshh.”

He left for a moment and returned with two tubs of chocolate ice cream and a spoon for each of them.

“No bowls? And two whole tubs?”

“Mhm. It’s better that way. And you could have both of them if you asked.”

“Nah, you deserve some ice cream too. I probably hurt you a lot by doing that.”

“Mm-mm, Virgil. You’re hurting, not me. Self-care rule number one: you’re better than everyone for a while, put your feelings first.”

“I’m not.”

“Pretend. Now, what would you like to do?”

Virgil considered the question for a moment. It might be nice to listen to music, or to distract himself with a game or movie, but he didn’t really want that.

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“I… want to kiss you.”

Janus turned pink for a moment, before smiling his smile with one corner of his mouth.

Before he could say anything that he wanted to, Virgil kissed that smile. He wondered what it would be like to do so many times, so he wasn’t going to miss his opportunity. He put his ice cream down to hold Janus’s face with cold fingers, savoring the feeling of the little half-smile turning surprised and then into a giddy smile that began to kiss back. Virgil grinned when it ended, looking back into Janus’s eyes.

“So you’re going to surprise kiss me now?”

“Yep-”

Janus, just as quickly as Virgil had, kissed him quick on the nose, eliciting a blush from Virgil this time.

“Unfair, Janus.”

“Nah.”

“I’m gonna pout and eat my ice cream now.”

“Is there anything else we can do while eating ice cream?”

“I suppose we could watch a movie.”

“Lion King?”

“...Lion King? I mean, yeah, sure, okay!”

He smiled as Janus put the movie on, his familiar excitement seeping through. Virgil managed to wrestle the soft hoodie from him, revealing that one, he had no shirt, and two, that Virgil would cuddle Janus’s burn marks and he appreciated that. As Virgil fell asleep next to him, he pressed his lips to his forehead, who was just awake enough to feel.

And one by one, the messages were unlocked to him. Once, after a dance, came the desperate, passionate kiss that told him “I need to kiss you.” One Disney marathon he came to feel the peppered kisses on his cheeks that said “You’re adorable.” After a weekend trip alone he got the long cheek kiss that said ‘I missed you.’ When he finally got a job, he was given the messy kiss, cheeks held tight that said “I’m so proud of you.” One tired night he blushed at the kisses on his jaw and neck that said “You’re hot and I’m bored.”

And again and again and again, the tender forehead kisses that said “I’m here for you. I love you.”

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howdoyoueventhings · 7 years

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Subject N3WB

@thefungiboy asked to see this fic I wrote so I said "fuck it" and decided to post it. Mostly I got the idea from Richtofen's diary entries on Call of the Dead where he mentions Subject N3WB (Takeo) was mentally broken by the experiments. It is rather... gorey in a few parts so do beware of that. I'm on mobile so I apologize for the long fuckin' post. (Also this is my first time posting a fic please be gentle with me I know Takeo might be out ooc at times) "Good morning, N3WB." A voice startled the test subject awake. He hadn't been aware that he was sleeping. He wasn't even sure if he had closed his eyes. "Are you ready for the next batch of tests? I have faith you'll respond to these ones quite well!" That voice, so cheery and light hearted he could almost forget that he was in pain. N3WB opened his mouth, his head locked in the position of staring at the floor. It took a minute before he could get anything out in the same language as the voice speaking to him. "Yes... sir..." Was all he could croak. The voice laughed merrily. "Ah, good! You're speaking now! See? You're already on your way to being a success!" A hand reached out and patted his cheek rapidly. Each little touch of the rubber glove against his face sent a numb tingle through his whole body, he nearly cried out. "Now, move with me." The voice commanded. Two hands firmly gripped N3WB's shoulders and dragged him a short distance, pinning him to a vertical surface, cold and metal. The feeling of leather straps tightening around his wrists and ankles, cutting off his ability to move, was oddly familiar. Even when he felt his shirt being opened, it was like he had done this a thousand times already. "I've found recently that if the patient is upright, I can operate better!" The voice chided. He started to wish he could look anywhere but down. He didn't want to see himself cut open but he couldn't move, his mind wouldn't let him do anything but stare. He felt the harsh metal of the scalpel and almost instantly wanted to cry. He would not, however. That would have been shameful. Two brown eyes stayed locked forward, wide with horror when he could see the workings of his insides and the strange blue liquid running through his veins. "Hm. Substance is circulating nicely. Now to see if it's numbed your pain receptors yet!" The voice giggled and suddenly a blade plunged into his shoulder. Against his own will, N3WB cried out. The blade twisted and he sobbed in pain. "Hmmm..." The voice mused, boredly. "Well, that's no good. I'd prefer to test other parts of the body but they said I had to stop stabbing subject's spleens..." N3WB, though he didn't think he was crying, felt tears slid down his chin. He felt his stomach churn and his body convulse as he gagged uncontrollably. The voice sighed heavily. "Not again..." Suddenly a hand grabbed the side of his face and forced it as far to the left as it could go just before the bile in his stomach could spill on to the floor. Instead it ran down the side of his arm and stained his uniform, leaving a foul stench. A bitter, acidic, stream oozed from the side of N3WB's mouth as his head fell forward again. "Can't wait for that to happen five or six more times." The voice grumbled sarcastically. N3WB heard himself groan. "You know, you should be thankful." The voice was sharper now as it's owner removed the knife from his shoulder. "There was a time where I would have just shoved chunks of Element 115 between your rib cages and sewn you shut like that. But apparently the survival rate of patients was getting too low, so I had to stop." The voice had changed from hate filled to almost a pout as it spoke. "You know, you're such a good listener." It mused to him with a strange fondness. "Such a shame you'll forget all of this when it's over. Or you'll die. Which reminds me..." There was the sound of shifting and footsteps around N3WB. Immediately, he was sent into a panic. Still staring at his own flayed body and fearfully anticipating his next "test" while only able to assume based on what he could hear. He was certain he was going insane. 'Don't let them see.' The thought entered his frantic mind before he could even process what those words meant. Don't let them see. Don't let them have the satisfaction. This person wanted him broken. They would just have to deal with disappointment. N3WB closed his eyes and steeled himself for whatever would come. He was ready. He would not be dishonorable. He would not be weak. "Do you know what I have in my hand, N3WB?" The voice was suddenly in his ear. The proximity sickened the test subject. "It's a sedative. And a pain killer." The voice answered. "One quick prick of this little needle, and you'll be snoozing without pain. If I sew you up after giving you this, you won't feel a thing. You'll get the best sleep of your life. Doesn't that sound nice?" He couldn't see, but he knew that whoever owned that voice was grinning now. "You only have to do one thing, my friend. You just have to tell me your name." The test subject was puzzled for a moment. What kind of request was that? The words came easier than he was expecting them to. "Masaki, Takeo-" A hand struck him across the face. "Wrong." The voice hissed. "Try again." Now he understood. This man- this thing- didn't want his name. It wanted his number. It wanted N3WB. 'Too bad.' Another rebellious thought echoed in his skull. "Masaki-" He started before he was struck again. And again. And again. He had lost count of how many times his captor had hit him. It hardly mattered, though. He was winning. Suddenly a hand grabbed his jawline and forced his head upright. Two wide, angry, blue-green eyes stared at him. Thin lips pulled back into a snarl. This was a face he recognized. A face be associated with his own pain and terror. This was "Dr. Richtofen." A door opened opened for a man in a lab coat. Richtofen groaned and let go of the test subjects face, causing his head to fall forward again. "What is it, Dr. Groph?" He hissed. "We have reason to believe there is a spy amongst our ranks." The other man replied. A dreaded silence filled the room. Finally, "I will be right with you, doctor. Just allow me to dispose of this." He was sure Richtofen was looking at him when he said this. The door closed and he heard Richtofen turn towards him. "Pity." The doctor sighed. "I was hoping to have more time with you." He was silent while his body was sewn shut. It hurt, yes, but the doctor had already gotten one cry of pain from him today, he made sure there would not be another. When that was over, the test subject was placed in a small, cramped cage. It was disgusting and dehumanizing. But he would be damned if Richtofen would see his discontent. "What's your name?" He heard one more time. Takeo scowled and lifted his head slowly, staring the doctor in the eyes and uttering in the strongest voice he could muster, "My name is Takeo Masaki." Richtofen had a bored expression when he said this. "Pity." He sighed before turning away and leaving the room. The lights turned off when the doctor was gone, leaving Takeo in the dark. "My name is Takeo Masaki." He repeated to himself. "My name is Takeo Masaki. Not N3WB."

#hoo boi #posting my first fic how about that shit #hope you like it mars #takeo masaki #edward richtofen #torture tw #gore tw???#nazi zombies #cod zombies #long post #fanfic #snake write

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