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#control. does it mean anything? probably not. am I shaking it around in my head? yes
asmidge · 1 month
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emotional over how Android 17 was built to kill and now his job is protecting life. he doesn’t want to kill the poachers even though they directly threaten the animals that are so important to him
he has a wife and kids now and has an actual life, something that Dr Gero never envisioned for him or his sister. they were created as tools meant to kill Goku but they’re his friend now. they live for themselves and value the lives that they were originally meant to destroy
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Less Talk | Part III
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.
CW: mild angst, Hangman being a dick aka Hangman being himself, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, drinking
Part I | Part II | Masterlist
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You’re watching Jake so grimly that he almost wants to give you a hug. But, the next moment, you let out a heated sigh and shake your head irritably. “God, Jake, nothing happened,” you say, as if he’s the one who’s shown up at your doorstep unannounced in the dead of night.
He gives you a stony look that, unfortunately, you don’t see because you’re no longer watching him, so his efforts go completely unnoticed. “If nothing happened, then why are you here? Past midnight. Crying.” To his chagrin, the tone of his voice is far too vexed to emulate the indifferent attitude he means to preserve.
You lick your lips and sniffle. “We had a fight,” you say.
Jake stares at you impatiently, waiting for you to look back up. When you don’t, he says, “You fight with everybody.”
This makes you look. He’s dreadfully satisfied with peeving you – the only satisfaction you’ll likely ever give him. “It was a big one, obviously.”
Jake studies the expression on your face, trying to gauge whether or not you’re hiding something. “Where is he?” he asks, feeling like he needs to punch something. And soon.
You take a long time to respond – so long that Jake almost poses the question for a second time. “I don’t know,” you finally say.
“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?”
You shrug, your lips beginning to tremble anew. “He just left.”
What Jake experiences at the sight of the fresh tears filling your eyes is abhorrent. The simultaneous desire to alleviate your pain and beat the living shit out of Mustang offsets his entire world in a way that puts your well-being at the top of his priority list. Hell, he doesn’t even have a priority list. You are it. And with this absurd notion weighing on the ever-growing vortex of his newly discovered emotions, he resolves to tell you just what he thinks of your idiotic boyfriend. “Well, he’s obviously a moron,” he says curtly.
You glance up at him again, less angry than before. “He’s a lot like you in that respect,” you say with a hint of a smile.
Jake scoffs and, before he can stop himself, says, “I would never walk out on you.”
You stare at him for a moment before lowering your gaze awkwardly.
Jake cringes, realizing that he could have said just about anything else and it would have been better. Moreover, in his attempt to rectify the situation, he blurts out this obnoxious tidbit: “You’d never let me hear the end of it.”
You roll your eyes but then you bite into your bottom lip and your eyebrows lift inward. You glance up at him woefully and say, “I’m not that bad, am I?”
Jake watches you carefully, wondering why you’d care what he might have to say on the matter. He tries to determine what his response might be before deciding if he’s going to be honest. On the one hand, you are that bad. On the other, when it comes to you, bad takes on an entirely different connotation. “You could be worse,” he responds vaguely.
You stare at him miserably. “You can’t stand me,” you remind him.
Jake nearly laughs; that’s how absurd he finds your statement. “Well, that’s more or less mutual, is it not?”
You nod slowly.
“In any case, it’s hardly relevant since I’m not your boyfriend.”
“But what does that say about me?” you ask. “I piss off everyone around me. You said it yourself, I just can’t shut up.”
“Why should you?” he says, his anger flaring despite his every effort to control it. His response seems to catch you off-guard because you blink up at him sharply. “I just mean, who cares if you piss someone off? That’s not a you problem,” he reasons, although he’s painfully aware of just how much he’s contradicting his every complaint where you’ve been concerned.
“Well, it’s kind of my problem if my boyfriend hates me,” you say, your mouth finally relaxing into the beginnings of a smile.
Jake cocks his head to the side and purses his lips. “I don’t know,” he says. “Sounds like you just need a new boyfriend.”
You scoff and turn away. The moment your back is to him, Jake shuts his eyes and passes a hand over his face with a silent sigh. He watches you travel the length of his living room and unplug a fan that isn’t turned on. “You shouldn’t keep your electric appliances plugged in when they aren’t in use,” you mutter absently. “You’re wasting energy.”
Jake rolls his eyes despite the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How much energy does a table fan waste when it isn’t even on?”
You shrug, glancing over your shoulder. “How many electrical devices do you currently have plugged in that aren’t ‘even on’?” you ask, using air quotes to emphasize the final two words. “It adds up, thereby increasing your carbon footprint. Imagine everybody lived as carelessly as you do?”
Jake grins broadly. “The horror.”
You nod without the tiniest bit of amusement. “My thoughts exactly.”
Jake watches you resignedly, not at all surprised that you’ve found yet another reason to reproach him. “Are you hungry?” he asks.
You eye him suspiciously, as if you don’t quite trust that he won’t poison your food.
“We’ve got some leftovers,” he says, nodding toward the kitchen through the corridor. “Have you eaten?” You consider his offer at length as though he’s proposed a shotgun wedding rather than a pot roast. “Come on,” he says, waving you over as he makes his way into the hallway. “I can’t wait to hear what you have to say about my cooking.”
“This is surprisingly good,” you comment as Jake pours you a glass of wine.
Jake chuckles. “That might be the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me.”
You lick your lips and smile up at him as he takes a seat across from you at the table, popping the cap off a beer. “Your turn,” you say, wiggling your eyebrows.
Jake sneers and then guzzles half his bottle in one gulp. He sets the beer down to find you watching him expectantly.
“You can’t think of anything?” you ask incredulously.
Jake runs a hand across his chin, watching your smile widen at the thought of him having nothing decent to say about you. Ironically, he can’t think of a single thing that isn’t nice, which is truly agitating him. He racks his brain trying to come up with at least one negative quality because something about you drives him absolutely crazy.
You sigh, returning your attention to your plate. “It’s fine, Seresin,” you say. “Don’t think so hard, I know you aren’t accustomed to it.”
“That,” Jake says, leaning into the table as he points a finger in your direction. “That sharp sense of humor.”
You raise your eyebrows with a laugh. “Oh, you think I’m joking?” You tilt your head sympathetically, but your smile remains.
Jake meets your gaze with an affectionate smirk, silently listing off every other ‘nice’ thing about you, including, but not limited to, the sound of your laughter. He swallows uncomfortably when you don’t look away, unsettled by the unrest in the pit of his stomach that churns every time your eyes meet. He tries to regulate his breathing before it becomes apparent that you’re actively rattling him.
The creak of the front door interrupts the obscenely prolonged period of mutual eye fucking contact. You glance toward the corridor while Jake disconcertedly rubs his eyes.
“Y/N?” Bradley says, walking into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh.” You sigh, setting down your fork and reverting to your previously dejected state.
“Don’t tell me you guys had another fight,” Bradley says jadedly. He glances over at Jake with a grave expression which Jake means to completely ignore.
“He stormed out,” you say, sighing into your half-eaten plate. “I think I really ticked him off this time.”
Jake gives Bradley an unimpressed look when the latter starts thrusting his head around to indicate that Jake should add something to the conversation. Jake takes another gulp of his beer.
“He shouldn’t be taking off,” Bradley says when Jake remains silent. “I don’t care how angry he is.” He looks to Jake for approval.
Jake rolls his eyes. “Why are we still talking about this dumbass?”
Bradley eyes him pointedly. “Didn’t realize you’ve already discussed him,” he says, glancing between you and Jake.
You pick your fork back up and start stabbing at the meat on your plate.
“How was the rest of your evening, Rooster?” Jake asks, avoiding looking directly at him.
“Pretty good,” Bradley responds, and Jake can hear the glee in his tone without even seeing his ridiculous grin. “Yours?”
Jake aims a disdainful scowl in his direction. “Bradshaw,” he says. “You look tired.”
Bradley holds back a laugh and then turns to you. “Y/N, do you want to talk?”
You look up at your best friend with a weary smile. Your gaze slips to briefly glance at Jake before you shake your head at Bradley. “I think I’m good. Thanks.”
Bradley gives you a hug and heads for the stairs, pausing momentarily to throw Jake a final, cautionary look before heading to bed.
“I should go,” you say once Bradley leaves.
“You sure?” Jake asks. “You haven’t criticized my dishwashing skills yet. I bet I use too much water.”
You give him an amused look as you rise from your chair. “Recognizing the problem is the first step.”
He recognizes the problem alright; it’s standing right before him. “What’s the next step?”
“Well,” you say musingly. “In this case, I would say action.”
Jake nods, getting out of his seat. “I could use some of that, for sure.”
Your gaze lingers on him as you let out a soft laugh. You’re an entire table length away and yet he can feel the force of your presence as though you were pressed up against him.
“You could stick around,” he offers casually. “We could watch a movie or something.”
You continue studying him brazenly. “I’d probably ruin it for you.”
He laughs. “We could watch something I already don’t like.”
You smile back at him. “Haven’t you done that enough for one evening?”
Jake doesn’t altogether know how to respond without making it painfully obvious just how much he doesn’t not like you. “Yeah,” he says finally. “So, what’s another couple of hours?”
You’re watching him thoughtfully which makes him almost hopeful that you might agree to stay, but then you respond with, “Maybe another time.”
He nods, keeping his eyes trained on yours. “Another time,” he agrees. But as you head for the door, he decides to try another tactic. “Should you be driving after having that wine?” he asks.
You give him a flat look. “I had half a glass. If that.”
Jake shrugs slightly. “It was a big glass.”
You roll your eyes. “It’ll be fine, Seresin.” You reach for the doorknob.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if, for once, he came home, and you weren’t there?” he asks.
You look at him sharply. “He won’t be home for hours.”
Jake gestures at the open living room. “We have several fine couches. Take your pick.”
You sigh, evaluating his pitch. “No,” you say finally. “He’s already so mad at me. If I stay here, that’ll be the end of our relationship.”
This outcome sounds just dandy to Jake, but he can see the worry in your expression, so he pulls on the door and holds it open for you, following you out onto the porch to walk you to your car.
“Drive carefully,” he says once you’re seated, leaning down to peer into the car as you buckle your seatbelt.
You nod. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Thanks for the company,” he responds.
You chuckle. “Yeah, about that… sorry I imposed on your evening.”
“Yeah,” Jake agrees with a smirk. “That was kind of rude of you.” When you laugh, he adds. “No, but really, I don’t mind. Come over anytime.”
You gasp at him to simulate shock. “And subject you to my numerous opinions?”
Jake’s grin widens. “I’m getting used to tuning you out.”
“So, what exactly is it that you gain out of my company?” you ask with raised eyebrows as you start your engine.
Jake raps on the hood of your car a couple of times before responding. “I just don’t want to deprive you of my company.”
You snort. “That would be a tragedy.”
Jake lets himself admire your laugh for several seconds before straightening his back. “Have a good night, Y/N,” he says, and then he shuts your door.
You pull out of the driveway and stop your car on the side of the road. Jake watches curiously as you step out of the car. He approaches you slowly, his eyes drifting up and down your figure involuntarily. He blinks to reorient himself, exhaling sharply as he comes to stand before you. He slips his hands into his pockets to avoid the temptation of using them to pin you to your car and then running them along the curves of your body. You’re looking up at him with a sheepish expression, completely unaware of the turmoil he’s up against in this very moment. “What’s up?” he says sternly; employing exaggerated masculinity to help assuage his crippling desire to kiss you.
Instead of responding, however, you stretch up onto your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. In his shock, it takes a second for Jake to loosen his rigid stance; to remember that his hands are still safely tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He draws them out slowly, holding them cautiously on either side of your body, wondering just how catastrophic it would be if he were to reciprocate the hug. “You really helped me tonight,��� you say softly, your breath warming the crook of his neck.
He lets out a weak chuckle that dies the second it leaves his lips because, at that moment, you press your cheek into his shoulder. His hands close gingerly around you. He’s barely holding on, but you feel just right in his embrace. Like the dip in your waist belongs between the palms of his hands. “Glad to be of service,” he mutters, his voice a little rough as he attempts to process this turn of events.
You detach yourself from his grasp and give him a friendly smile. So friendly, it nearly kills him. “Maybe I can return the favor someday,” you say.
Jake stares at you, trying to come up with at least one favor you could do for him that isn’t sexual in nature and drawing a complete blank. “Maybe,” he says uneasily.
“Anyway,” you say. “Sleep well.”
You flash him one last smile before climbing back into your car while Jake takes several steps back, wondering how the fuck he’s going to sleep at all after having experienced that.
Read Part 4
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Hello lovely!! I saw requests were open but if i'm mistaken just ignore me lol, but if they are, i was wondering if i could request hcs for poly!lost boys with a free spirited s/o who is always traveling and exploring (think like young donna from mamma mia yk?) thank you again lovely <333
Thank you for the request! It's a fun one, and like, I definitely knew who donna was? (Is it alright to admit I've never seen Mamma Mia? Or is that like not done?) Anyway, thanks for the fun ask, and I hope you like this!😘
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When I say you've travelled a lot, I mean a lot. You spent summer holidays backpacking through Europe and Asia, hitting several countries and enjoying the adventure tremendously.
Holidays do come to an end, however, so once you're back in the States, you decide to explore more of the state you live in. You didn't really have a plan, and the bustrip that was supposed to take you to San Francisco ended up with you being stranded in Santa Carla.
I am convinced that you met Paul first, probably while jamming with some musicians on the boardwalk. You danced and sang along, twirling around until you suddenly slammed into someone.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" You'd laugh, "Are you alright?" Paul would just grin, dragging you along in another dance. "Sure am, babe," he'd say, "but it would be even better if I get your name."
So that's how you get to know Paul, as a carefree, fun-loving guy - and you absolutely adore him. Through him, you meet the others.
"Oh my god, are these bikes yours?" Is probably along the first things you say to them. When they ask if you ride, you happily shake your head. "Nope, but I am certain I can!" Needless to say, they make sure to leave their keys in sight.
Later on, they do teach you how to drive, but none are quite comfy with you going off on your own since driving safety is not the first thing on your mind.
They run into you at the weirdest places. One time, they found you stuck in a tree. Another time, they found you lounging on the roof of a motel - the ladder you'd used to get on the roof had fallen, and you'd decided that sunbathing and stargazing was a very nice way to spend the day instead of doing groceries and such.
Marko absolutely adores the way you handle things, how you just enjoy life and can laugh about practically anything.
I am convinced you and Dwayne will bond over telling stories of adventures. You have a lot, and so does he and in the end the two of you could talk for hours.
You and David had to get used to each other for a bit, with him being way more controlled than you - and you being way more open and free in the way you acted. But once you connected over a story, or when you stumbled and fell into his arms - followed by some corny oneliner - the two of you get really close.
You fit in perfectly, within the groups dynamic. You're not quite as chaotic as Paul and Marko can be and definitely not as mysterious as the other two - so it definitely works out well.
David takes you to hidden gems around town and genuinely loves to accompany you when you're out exploring.
You find out they're vampires due to one of the long chats with Dwayne, and you hate to admit it, but you're really disappointed that they don't turn into bats.
The next morning you find a tiny bat charm laying on your pillow.
Once you know what they are, you definitely want to experience parts of their world. Not the feeding, perhaps, but the flying? Yes, absolutely.
Marko takes you out flying the first time and you have never felt more alive.
Overtime you begin to feel a little conflicted: you really like all of them, in a rather romantic way and eventhough it is rather simple in your head (just date all of them) you're just not sure if they'd be okay with that?
But when you awkwardly bring it up one night, the boys just grin. Everyone's in, and suddenly you've gained four boyfriends.
Dynamic wise, nothing changes, except you get the occasional ask if you want to turn into a vampire as well.
If you do, I am certain you spent the first couple of months exploring the town all over again with the boys, and then begging them to come along when you went out to explore the rest of the world because a) you had the time now and b) travelling and exploring while you're a vampire is so much more fun
David and Dwayne are always on alert when they hear you (or Paul or Marko) gleefully yell something along the lines of "Let's do it!" "Who cares!" Or "Fuck it!" Because it often means one of you will get stuck somewhere. Like a tree. Or a roof. Or under the boardwalk. Or in a fight with sharks. You get the drift ;)
Before I forget, you absolutely adore Marko's pigeons, and on world animal day you definitely give them little pigeontreats.
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sireditsalot4 · 7 months
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Summary: You have a hard time controlling your emotions and feelings around Cristina. The gang tries to help you but deep down you know you have to do this yourself.
Pairing: Reader x Cristina Yang
You sat down at the table where the gang is and let out a sigh of relief. Due to an illegal race accident, Dr. Shepard had you everyone, testing, doing surgery’s left and right. You were exhausted.
“Woah. What’s the matter with you?” Alex asks.
“I’m not in the mood for you right now.” You warn, pointing your fork at him at the last part. Alex doesn’t light up. “Come on, what is it? I’m your friend. You can tell me anything.” He reassures with that voice that makes your jaw tighten.
“I’m not going to be able to enjoy my meal, am I?” Alex shakes his head. Meredith rolls her eyes. “Leave them alone. They’re going through something right now, something personal,” Meredith adds. You shake your head knowing that won’t be enough. “How come you told them and not me?” Alex says, sounding slightly hurt.
“I didn’t know.” George says looking around the table. A sigh escapes you and you could careless. Any control you had went out the window.
Your beeper goes off and you quickly check it to see it’s Dr. Shepard again. “Come on!” You drop your fork with a piece of lettuce you just stabbed and get up.
Slipping your arm through the white coat, you stop In front of Dr. Shepherd. You see he has a chart full of names unchecked and you can feel yourself collapsing on the inside. “You needed me?” You ask, making eye contact.
“There you are, I need you to check on some patients and then do a rectal exam.” Disgust plasters on your face but you quickly dismiss it. “Yes Doctor.” He hands over a chart and you take it, turning and leaving to begin your new quest.
“I have a hot patient to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me.” Alex gets up. George waits for Alex to be completely gone before asking. “What’s really going on with Y/N?” Meredith and Izzie both look at each other. “You can’t tell him or anyone tho. She made us promise not to tell anyone so you have to not tell, pinky swear.” Izzie holds out her pinky. “I promise. Now what’s going on?”
“Y/N likes Cristina.”
George’s mouth opens in shock. “Wow. I mean, who wouldn’t. Does Cristina know?” Meredith shakes her head. “She’s too scared. Stuff like this is rough, especially for someone young.” All three of them nod.“Remember when I had a crush on you,” Meredith nods. “I remember. It was the cutest I’ve seen you.”
You snap your gloves off and rubs your hands on your coat. “Why is this happening to me?” You whisper to yourself. Looking ahead, you see Cristina talking with Doctor Burke and duck behind a corner. This is so sad. Peaking your head out, you see they are both gone and fully come out and running into Cristina who has a look on her face. You silently scream and place a hand over your chest. “You scared me.”
“You scared me. Who are you hiding from?” Cristina asks, looking around. You freeze looking at her, your mouth opens and close but nothing comes out. “From Dr. Shepherd. He has me every where right now so I’m just hiding,” You take a second to gather yourself, hoping she doesn’t notice.
Cristina eyes you before nodding. “I haven’t seen him down here so he’s probably upstairs. See you.” She says before leaving. You let out a deep breath before heading upstairs for Dr. Shepherd. Way to go.
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l3viat8an · 10 months
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OMG FINALLY!!
I've been trying to send an ask for the past 3 days and it wouldn't let me 😭
The levi brainrot is bad‼️
Okay so imagine this
After living in the hol for a while you notice things begin to go missing, specifically your panties. You decide your just being forgetful of where you placed your things and move on. One day, Levi asks you to meet him in his room, but when you arrive he isn't there. You wait for awhile but he shows no sign of arriving, so you, being the little nosey thing you are, begin to look around. It starts off innocent, your admiring his figurine collection when you see a hint of red fabric out of the corner of your eye. You walk over to his bed and grab the clothing item to find its your..panties? You look down and see a box peaking out from under his bed, you grab and open it. It's all of your panties that went missing! But, why does levi have it? You hear the door open and then leviathan screams. You turn around, box in hand, and see how red levi is. I mean, he's redder then the fabric you were previously holding. He begins to stutter out an explanation and it finally hits you. "Your a pathetic little panty stealer, huh levi? He practically moans at your words as you notice his growing buldge. You look at him, a devilish look in your eyes. "Y'know, if you wanted me this bad all you had to do was ask." Hes panting at this point so desperate for your harsh words "But now that you've gone and been a little thief, you'll have to beg for it." You slowly walk towards him, "Well? Are you gonna be a good little slut and beg?"
That got a lot longer then I planned it to be 🧍‍♀️
-🕸
Nsfw content MDNI
Istg I still don’t know what’s wrong with my ask box 😭 it hates me I swear!- and uhhhh idk what happened Levi just eats at my brain 🧍🏼‍♀️CW: probably typos, sorry!! dom (?) gn!reader. Hand job / blowjob, ruined orgasm, degrading, lil bit of marking (my biting kink tbh) (Levi receiving all of it!!) 
Levi felt heat rush to his face at your words, his breath hitching as he tried to wrap his head around the situation. He had never wanted you to find out……but at the same time, the way you immediately talked down to him….well, he’s a pervert….it turned him on.
"I-I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself…” Levi whispered, his eyes locked onto the floor. "Please...please…..please let me make it up to you. I'll do anything. P-please…”
You smirked at his words, just taking a moment and basking in the power you held over him. You slowly walked towards him, your hand reaching down to grab his stiffening cock, clicking your tongue in mock disappointment, "Anything, huh? Well then, let's see just how far you're willing to go.”
Levi let out a small whimper as you began stroking his cock through his pants. He was completely under your control….and he loved it~
"Please, please, please f-fuck…please M-MC, I'll- I meant it!! I’ll do anything, just t-tell me….” he begged, his hips thrusting into your hand.
You pull his cock out and rub your thumb over the tip, giving him a few slow strokes, “Then you’ll be good for me, right Levi?”
Levi nodded, immediately, “Y-yes!! I'll be good for you, MC, I- I- oh fuck- I promise…please” Levi replied, his voice shaking as you continue to tease his cock.
Levi whines as the feeling of pleasure building as you worked him harder. Soon he was gasping for breath. Fuck it felt good to have such a powerful demon weak from your touch~
You leaned in close, your hot breath tickling his ear. "Dirty pervert…..you really are gross Levi…” you murmured, as you brought your lips to his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. “Yes!! I am, s-so gross…p-p-please don’t stop!!!”
Levi moaned, his hand reaching up trying to grab onto your hair as he tried to keep himself from giving into the pleasure, just yet.
Obviously you weren't done with him~ You pulled away from his neck, eyes locking with his as you slowly sink to your knees.
"At least you know…..but now…let's see just how good you can be.” you said, as you wrap your lips around his cock.
Your lips and tongue working in tandem to push Levi closer to the edge. You could feel his body tensing up with every passing second, his hips  subconsciously thrusting forward as he gave in to the warmth of your mouth.
With each flick of your tongue, each gentle suck of your lips, he was pushed closer and closer to his orgasm. Levi is panting heavily now, one hand covering his face as the other tangled desperately in your hair as he begged for release. Endlessly self-degrading words fell from his lips as you sucked him off……
Before Levi knew it, you were pulling away….his orgasm ruin and you standing up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
A satisfied smirk across your face when Levi sobbed out “W-why w-what are you doing?!?” But you still pulled away, "I'd say you made it up to me, Levi.” you said, a sly twinkle in your eye, as you made your way to his bedroom door.
Opening the door and stepping out into the hall, “Oh and Levi~” you waited until he looked at you, “-no cumming until I say you can.” and you’re gone.
Leaving a very red, very horny and very upset Levi in his room. Alone again.
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vodika-vibes · 7 months
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Another Happily Ever After
Summary: After Ella, your step-sister, grabbed her happily ever after with both hands, you decide to do the same. Luckily for you, Captain Rex is happy to help.
Pairing: Knight Captain Rex x F!Reader
Word Count: 2852
Warnings: Fluff
Mando'a Used: osik'la - messed up, screwed, horrible (impolite)
A/N: A twist on Cinderella, where the reader is one of the "evil" step-sisters.
Divider by saradika
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   Your life has changed a lot since your step-sister married into nobility. Oh, she’s not a Duchess, not yet at least, but it’s only a matter of time before the Duke retires and his son ascends to inherit the title. 
Granting your step-sister a title as well.
And you can admit that you’re concerned.
And you’ve admitted your concerns to your mother and your older sister. Though they just laughed your concern away as you being overly dramatic.
“Mother,” You say as you fold your hands around the simple tea cup that you prefer, “Mother, please. You have to see why I’m concerned.” You plead, “You and Bea, you were never kind to Ella. She has every reason to want revenge.”
“That girl,” Your mother counters, “Doesn’t have the nerve to do anything.” She opens a magazine, “Now, how much of Dear Edmund's estate do you want, ad?”
“Estat-? Mother, no! That money does not belong to us!” You say, “Edmund set that money aside for Ella, his daughter. You have to give it to her!”
“Absolutely not,” Your mother looks offended, “Ad’ika, I am entitled to this money. After all, I took care of that rat of a daughter.”
“Mother-”
“Mother has a point, vod.” Bea drawls from where she’s sitting next to your mother, wearing a dress that probably costs more than your entire apartment put together. “Mother raised Ella, made sure she had clothes, food and a roof over her head. We deserve this money.”
“And, ad, if you took some of this money, maybe you can move into someplace…better.” Your mother says as she eyes the plain dishes and simple decor of your apartment in disdain. 
“I like my apartment, it’s right over my bakery.” You defend, as shame causes your cheeks to burn.
“It’s an adorable hobby, ad.” Your mother says, “but it’s time to grow up and join the real world. Now. How many credits do you need?”
“I…none. I don’t need anything.” You insist.
Your mother sighs, and shakes her head, “You are as stubborn as your father was, ad.” She stands and smoothes the rich silk of her dress, “Also, ad, next time you’re coming to see me. I cannot handle the mess of this place. And make sure you clean up, you’re filthy.”
“It’s not-” You sigh and your shoulders slump, “Yes, mother.”
“Good.” She nods her head once, as though she hadn’t just trampled all over your self-worth, and then turns to Bea, “Come on, darling. You need a new dress for your meeting with your betrothed.”
Bea smiles sharply, “Yes, mother.” And then she glances at you, and her grin becomes mean, “See you later, osik’la.”
Your face flushes even more, but your sister is gone before you’re able to say anything to her in return. You huff out a breath and push your hair out of your face, and then you stand up and head down into the shop.
You really want to hit something.
Maybe there’s dough that needs kneading. 
You step into the kitchen, and one of the other bakers glances at you sympathetically, “I take it the talk with your mother and sister didn’t go well?” He asks.
“Does it ever?” You ask dryly as you wash your hands, dry then, and then walk over to a clean work station and spread flour, before pouring some dough onto the surface, “I swear, mother and Bea would hold me up to a mirror and only see themselves.”
“Well, that’s why you opened the bakery, right? So you can be independent from them?”
‘Well, yeah. Of course.” You reply as you start kneading the dough, “But they’re still…they…” you shake your head.
“It’s not your fault. You can’t control the actions of other people, boss.”
“Sometimes I wish I could,” You grumble.
He laughs, “Well yeah, who doesn’t. But that’s not the way the world works.” He grins, “Come on, I’ll take over here, you go tend to the shop proper. You like dealing with people.”
You scowl at him, but step away from the dough, “Fine. But make that dough cinnamon swirl.”
“You got it, boss.”
You wash your hands again, and push through the door that separates the kitchen from the shop, and you lightly place a hand on the shoulder of the girl working the register, “You good?” You ask.
“Hey boss! Yeah, today’s going great! Look at how busy we are!” She motions to the crowded shop.
“Have you taken your break yet?” You ask as you scan the shop, and your lips curl up in a pleased smile when you see just how crowded the shop actually is. 
“Yeah, I just got back from mine. No need to worry, boss. Things are going well here.” She beams at you, and then turns her attention towards the patron who just walked up.
You walk a little further down the counter, making note of what you’re running out of, and then you lean against the counter and you pull out a sheet of paper. You should write a letter to Ella, telling her what your mother and sister are up to.
You should. Stars know that they’ve mistreated Ella enough as it is over the years. But you really don’t know how to start the letter…or even if she’ll accept a letter from you. 
You look up when you notice motion in front of you, and you greet the man standing in front of you with a smile, “Hi there, how can I help you?” You straighten as you realize that you recognize him. Captain Rex, of the 501st Naval Battalion, and a regular to your shop before he went on Deployment a year ago. “Oh. Captain, I didn’t realize you'd returned.”
“Yeah, we docked this morning,” He replies with a small shrug.
You smile at him, “And my humble little shop is your first visit? I’m flattered.”
He turns to look at the bustling shop, “Humble? Is that what we’re calling it?”
You laugh quietly, “There has been a bit of a boost in sales over the last year, I admit. I even had to hire some employees.”
“So I see. I’m happy for you. I know you said you were worried that the shop would never take off.” Rex replies, and there’s a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You were so worried, that I put in a word with some of my brothers about how good your pastries were-”
“I knew it!” You laugh, “I thought it was weird when more of your brothers started showing up after you left.” You fold your arms, “Bacara and his Nova Corps bought out my entire shop one weekend. I made enough money to pay off my loan with interest!”
Rex grins, “Well, I didn’t ask him to do that. But I’m glad it helped.”
“I have a standing order for him for the first weekend of the month. We have to close the shop that weekend just to make sure we can make him everything he asks for.” You admit gleefully. “Bacara’s been great for business.”
“Bacara, huh? So you and he are friends now, then?” Rex asks, very casually.
“I don’t think Bacara does friends.” You admit with a shake of your head, “But I like him well enough in spite of that.”
“Yeah?” Rex shifts, “Uh, just out of curiosity, how much do you like him?”
You pause, “Rex.” You grin at him, “Are you jealous?”
“No!” He says too quickly, and too loudly, to be true. “Er…I mean…no. Not at all.”
“If it helps, I like him less than I like you.” You offer easily.
“Oh, thank fuck for that.”
Your eyebrows creep up, “Not jealous, huh.”
He blushes slightly, “No. Of course not.”
“Alright, I’ll believe you.” You tease lightly.
He smiles a little bashfully, “So, uh…are you free? Now that you have employees, maybe we can hang out?”
You glance around the room, and then you nod once. “So long as we don’t go too far, I think I can slip away for a little bit.”
“Great! I have an empty table.” Rex replies. He waits for you to step out from behind the counter, and then guides you, with a light hand against your back, to a table in the corner. He pulls the chair out for you, and then he sits across from you.
“So how have you been, Rex?” You ask him.
“Good. The deployment was pretty simple, all things concerned. No fighting at all, thankfully.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I worry about you, you know.” You reply.
He pauses, “Would it be bad of me to say that I’m glad you worry about me?”
You shrug, “I don’t think so. Though I probably worry about you more than necessary.”
“Still. I’m glad you worry.” He leans his arms on the table, “How have you been? Not the shop, mesh’la, you personally.”
You lean your arms on the table as well, “I’ve been…okay. The therapist you suggested is helping me deal with my mother and sister. But-”
“I thought I saw them walking down the street…I’m guessing they came to visit you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, they did. Mother wanted to give me money from my Step-Father’s estate. And I turned her down.” You admit.
“Good. How’d she take it?”
“She…stomped all over any sense of self-worth I have, and told me that I need to clean up because I’m filthy.” Your smile is wry.
“You’re not.”
“She…disagrees.”
“You know, the more I hear about your mother the more I want to punch her in the face.” Rex grumbles, “You’re perfect. You’re finally doing what makes you happy, and she thinks that she can-” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “So, what are you going to do about the money thing?”
“I should write Ella. Let her know. But…” You shake your head, “Ella hates me. For good reason. Any letter I send her will be tossed without getting opened.”
“You’re younger than her, right?”
“Only by a year or so,” You reply with a shrug, “I was old enough to know that what my mother and sister were doing to her was wrong.”
“You never took part, though.”
“Of course not. For the most part I just…carried on with my life, and kept doing what I’ve always done.” You reply with a sigh, “I always made sure that there was food for Ella though, even though Mother hated it.”
“Does she know that?”
“That I was the one making sure that there was always enough food for her? I don’t know. Maybe?” You rest your head on the palm of your hand, “Does it matter? I wouldn’t blame her for hating me.”
“You want my opinion?”
“I’d love your opinion.”
“Write the letter. And then give it to me. I’ll make sure she gets it.” Rex promises.
You smile at him, soft and fond, “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”
“You gave me a delicious chocolate chip cinnamon cookie, and I fell in love.” Rex replies easily.
“...With the cookie?”
His gaze locks with yours, and he shrugs one shoulder, “Sure.”
Your smile softens slightly, and pink rushes into your face, “Well, then,” You murmur, “What’s stopping you?”
Rex shifts, “I’m worried that I’m not good enough.”
“You’re about as perfect a man can be without being obnoxious, Rex. You don’t have to worry about that.” You reply quietly.
He stares at you for a moment, and then he smiles, “Would you like to go on a date with me? Tonight maybe?”
“I’d love to.” You reply, “If you come upstairs, I’ll even make you dinner.”
“Your mother will not approve of me,” Rex warns.
“I’ve made it a habit of doing things my mother doesn’t approve of,” You reply blandly.
Rex pauses and then he smirks, “Including me?” He asks, innocently.
“Well, yeah? Of cour-” You stop mid-sentence, and your face flames red, “I didn’t mean it like that!”
His grin grows, “Really? Cause I kinda liked that sentence, cyare.”
You scowl at him, your face still red, “I have to get back to work.” 
“I’ll sit here until you’re done for the day.” Rex replies as he leans back in his seat.
You get to your feet and shake your head, “It won’t be too much longer,” you reassure. You turn away from him, and he catches your hand and lightly tugs you back.
“Hey, come here,” He murmurs.
You move around the table until you’re standing next to him, and he gently encourages you to lean down. And then he catches your lips in a gentle kiss, and only once he’s done that does he release you.
You press your fingers to your lips and you release a quiet, giddy, giggle. 
Rex watches you with warm eyes, “I’ll see you after you’re done for the day, cyare.” You flash him a blinding grin, and then turn to hurry back to the kitchen.
**************
Before you know it, a month has gone by. And you’re happy. You’re so very happy with Rex. He’s your biggest supporter, and when your mother and older sister became too much for you to handle, he stepped in to help with the restraining order.
And now he’s here with you, with his arm hooked comfortably around your waist, as you stand in the foyer of Ella’s house. The house she shares with her husband.
“You ready for this?” Rex asks as he kisses your temple.
“I think so. I’m surprised she wanted to meet with me. I wrote everything in the letter, after all.” You reply as you lean against him.
“Is it really so surprising that maybe she wants to be family too?”
“Uh. Yeah, a little. My own mother doesn’t want to be family with me.” You point out.
“That’s because your mother is a bitch.”
You release a surprised noise, and there’s a quiet laugh from the stairs, “You’ll get no arguments here, Captain.” Ella, your step-sister, finishes walking down the stairs and she stops in front of the pair of you. “She really is.”
“Hi, Ella.” You greet with a small, nervous, smile.
In return, Ella’s smile is blinding, and she reaches out and takes both of your hands in hers, “Hello, vod! I’m so glad that you reached out!”
“It was the right thing to do,” You reply quietly, “I…haven’t done that enough for you.”
“Nonsense.” Ella’s grip on your hands tighten, “You think I couldn’t hear how they spoke about you? You think I didn’t notice that you made sure that I didn’t starve? That I never noticed the small cake left at my bedroom door on my birthday?”
You shift slightly, “I could have done more.”
“It wasn’t your job to protect me, vod. You were always so much smaller than I was. It was enough that you never took part in their abuse.” Ella smiled warmly, “It’s enough that you told me that they’re trying to spend my inheritance.”
“But-”
“No. No. No buts,” Ella gently guides you down the hall to her garden, “I was so pleased to hear that you managed to slip out from under your mother…and to open your own bakery, even! Oh, I was so proud that I cried, vod!”
“You…you did?”
“Oh, yes. I was a mess when I heard.” Ella grins, and motions for you to sit at the table in the garden, and Rex lightly presses his hand against your shoulder as he sits next to you, “I even sent one of the house servants to go and buy some pastries for me, I was worried that you’d react badly to seeing me in your bakery.”
You shake your head, “You’re always welcome, Ella.”
Ella beams and clasps her hands under her chin, “Oh, this is great! We can finally be a family. A real family. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really.” She takes a deep breath and visibly calms herself down, “I’m going to go and get my husband, but, oh! I am so happy to see you, vod!”
She hurries back into the house, and you turn to smile at Rex, “This is…better than anything I ever hoped.” You admit.
“Glad that you came, cyare?”
“Yeah. I am.” You agree with a nod, “I never thought…well, I thought families were for other people, honestly. But if me and Ella can put something together with us, and her husband…and you?” Your gaze catches his and he smiles soothingly, “Then maybe we can be a family.”
“It sounds like something to work towards, cyare.” He reaches out and lightly brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, “And I’m more than happy to help.”
“You won’t get bored?” You ask.
“Of you? Never.” He leans in and kisses you gently, his hand sliding around to gently cradle the back of your head. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see, cyare.”
You smile against his lips, “Well, if you say it then it must be true.” You kiss him again, a sigh of contentment escaping your lips as you do so.
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obsidiancreates · 3 months
Text
One Undead To Another (Chapter 12)
(Warnings for attempted kidnapping, attempted murder, blood drinking, and Henry being an asshole even when Shawn isn't around)
Noise-canceling headphones aren’t nearly as helpful as Shawn had hoped. They dull the sounds of chatter, seagulls, shoes clacking and thudding on pavement, but they don’t dull them enough. The sounds of Life claw at his ears, digging into his brain, trying to sweep him away in a flood of everything like they did before.
And if the headphones barely help with the sounds of the beachfront in general, they do nothing whatsoever for the heartbeats.
It’s barely sounds. Shawn feels the pulse of every passerby thudding in his own chest, in his bones, his teeth throbbing with equal parts dull and sharp pains as his dry, destroyed throat closes up on itself and his guts twist and writhe and tie themselves into knots and rip themselves apart and beg for blood–
The client walks in without Shawn even noticing, because they’re indiscernible from the sheer overwhelming flood of everything else. The smells, the sights, the sounds, the sensations– he’d intended to research as much about vampires as possible, and gave up after half an hour. The sun is setting now, and he’d moved to lay under his desk with the headphones on, his jacket tied around his head to keep them tight and to cover his eyes, a pineapple candle stuck right up to his nose to drown out any other scents.
That’s how the client finds him, his legs sticking out from under his desk as he lays face-down and tries to focus on his own unnecessary breathing, still as a cadaver. 
“Um… are you still open?”
Shawn pulls himself out from under the desk, sitting up without removing the jacket or headphones. “Do we look open?”
“... Um…”
Shawn catches the scent of blood, and an image flashes in his vision of dozens of nicks from a sloppy shaving job on a distressed, tear-stained face. He holds his breath– it feels more natural than the breathing does. “What uh- what can I help you with?” His voice sounds like it shouldn’t even be working. 
He feels the shift in the air as the man steps back from the sound, hears the swallow as the man prepares to speak, feels the vibration in the floor as he shakes his leg nervously. “I–I need help, fast. My wife– ex, ex wife, she– she lost custody yesterday and today when I went to pick up my daughter she wasn’t–”
His heart is racing. Shawn’s throat and mouth are still dry. His insides scream. He swallows nothing but air and says, “So you need a psychic to track her down?”
“Yes, I–I went to the police but I don’t– I looked you up and your track record is perfect, please.”
“I um, I don’t know if I can.” He wants to. Of course he wants to! But he’s hanging on by the barest shred, clinging to sanity with every scrap of self-control he has, and no matter much he tightens it it’s slipping away–
“I’ll pay you anything you want! I will give you the shirt off my back, I–I will give you the blood from my veins if you wanted!”
Shawn perks up. “You would?”
“... What?”
“Blood, you’d–you’d give your blood? As payment?”
“I– well, yes, I would.”
“Great, I’ll take the case!” Shawn springs to his feet, an almost manic energy suddenly possessing him. He crosses over to the man in, quite literally, a single heartbeat. He leaves the jacket and headphones on still, because the jacket is covering his face and he’s about 98% sure he stopped being able to upkeep his disgui– 
… 
That his eyes and fangs are back to how they were when he woke up. 
“Um, o-okay? But I don’t know how I’ll–”
“How much do blood drives usually take? Half a gallon?”
“Wha–! No, it’s a pint at most, I think!”
“Great! I’ll take that! You go get that drawn, I’ll get started on your case!”
“Like–like this?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You um. You can’t see.”
“Sir, I am a psychic. I have a third eye, right here–” Shawn pokes himself in the forehead harder than he means to. Will that bruise? Bruising requires blood. Living, life-giving blood that’s his own. It probably won’t bruise. “–that will guide me as needed. Such as my need for your blood is demanded by the psychic universe, so is this test of metaphysical senses. How else do you think I know what you’re saying with these headphones on?”
“You have– oh, wow. Okay, um, yes! Yes, go find my daughter, I’ll– maybe the local med school will have someone willing to–”
“Great! Just, bring it back here and put it in the fridge if I’m not back before you!” Shawn sprints out of the office without another word.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Henry looks over the crime scene photos and reports, rubbing his head and drumming his fingers on his scalp. His shift ended hours ago– the sun is dipping below the horizon now, and most of the day staff have cycled out. He should be at home, watching re-runs of his favorite shows, enjoying a cold beer. 
Instead he’s scanning for evidence of his son at the scene of one of the most singularly destructive crimes he’s seen in a long while. Granted, that’s largely because he retired early and stayed retired up until a few weeks ago, but still. Whole place burnt to a crisp, six bodies. Five of them are just piles of bones, one a more clearly laid-out skeleton. There was a literal treasure trove of strange occult-like artifacts in the basement where the fire originated, including several daggers that the coroner confirms match the slices make on the necks of the victims, as well as a necklace one of the victim’s was known to wear often that hadn’t been found on their body or in their home. 
Five of the skulls had unusually long and sharp canines, which in the report are suggested to be recent, artificial, and surgically installed given the lack of any clear regular usage wear-and-tear present on them. Several items that were mostly intact after the fire had bloodstains on them, and it’s expected for testing to come back showing the blood of the victims. There’s mountains, mountains of evidence that Shawn was completely right about these people being bad news.
Evidence also suggests that the sixth body is the latest victim. It’s hard to say for sure given most of the MO’s of the other victims were visible purely from their flesh wounds, but the sixth body had no surgical fang implants and was positioned next to what’s suspected to be the origin of the fire– right now it looks like their latest victim got lucky, and made sure the groop went out at the same time they did.
What there isn’t evidence of yet is Shawn, but Henry can’t shake his gut feeling. Shawn suspected these people, and was refused any chance to investigate officially. Knowing his son Henry can easily imagine Shawn taking it on himself to do unapproved and unofficial reconnaissance. Maybe he saw the group take in the latest victim and was there where everything caught fire– he’s probably saving that as a ‘big psychic reveal’ for when the smoke damage isn’t bothering his throat anymore.
“Henry.” He looks up to see Karen standing over his desk, her arms crossed. “You don’t get overtime for this, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just bothering me.”
“It seems pretty open and shut, in my opinion. Your son was right, again. And unfortunately it looks like my, detectives, didn’t even check this basement when they went to search the house, nor did they ever put in a request for a warrant to check it later.”
“I’m sure they had their reasons, Karen.”
“Well whatever those reasons are, because we didn’t find any of this sooner we have not only another victim, but no-one to arrest. Not exactly how I prefer to wrap up a high-profile case like this.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a shame.”
“It is. Which leads me to what I came over to talk about. Do I have it right that McNab overheard you telling Lassiter and O’Hara that Shawn’s hunch in this case was ‘unfounded’ and ‘leading them on a wild goose chase’?”
“Well, uh… yes, Chief, but I only said that because your Detectives had strong leads on other suspects.”
“Really? Because I went over the case file more than once throughout all this and, I don’t remember a single suspect who stood out more than this group.”
“Now hang on–”
“I’m starting to notice a pattern here, Henry. Now it wasn’t a big deal at first, to be quite frank you’ve saved this department a lot of money by cutting back on our outside consultant hires. But your reasoning has had a distinctly personal element to it, and this time, it actually hindered our investigation.”
“Chief–”
“It is not your job, to tell my, detectives or, consultants, which leads are viable and which are not. It’s also not your job to discredit or devalue the input of consultants when their work is actually helpful. Now I appreciate you keeping your son in line, when it’s required. But if this continues I’m going to begin to think you don’t know the difference between when you’re required to step in and when you just want to try and parent your son in the middle of a case.”
“That’s not fair, Chief.”
“Oh, I think it is.” She uncrosses her arms and sighs. “You know I respect you, Henry. I wouldn’t have created this position and offered you the job otherwise. But you’re only human, and I don’t think you can honestly look me in the eye and say you have never once allowed personal feelings to influence your professional behavior.”
Henry leans back in his chair, crossing his own arms now. “I haven’t. Shawn’s been sloppy lately.”
“He is also only human, Henry. To be frank I don’t care how he solves our cases, as long as he does it quickly, without bringing hell on this department.”
“Well, I can’t accept that.”
“I noticed. Which is why you can consider this a friendly warning before I have to give you an official reprimand.” Her posture loosens, and now instead of The Chief looking Henry in the eyes, it’s just Karen Vick. “He’s a good man, Henry, and a good detective. He’s been doing great work for this department since long before we hired you. Just… lighten up on your son, when he’s not actually making any major mistakes.”
“... Now you’re getting personal, Chief.”
“This is coming from Karen the mom, not Karen the Chief. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to have Iris working a job like this, especially… especially her getting into some of the danger Shawn does. Make sure that he doesn’t leave this bullpen with resentment every time, Henry. There might be a day he won’t come back. … Good night.”
She leaves. Henry stays sitting.
“He’s sloppy,” Henry mutters to himself as he goes back to scanning the photos. “I’ve got to call him out on his screw-ups, Karen. Even if he hates me for it.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shawn finds the mom’s laptop in her apartment (he’d gone there and then realized he’d never actually asked where it was– he just Knew. Which is normal for him, but now he’s a little too aware it’s not normal for anyone else) and her password is printed on a sticker on the bottom. He finds google searches for maps and quickest routes out of Santa Barbara, and on a group picture on the wall he sees that she drives a bright red off-road-worthy jeep.She’ll probably take one of the smaller, less crowded roads, and given the kind of car it’s safe to assume she’ll try for a dirt road.
That narrows it down a good amount, three of the most likely options highlighting in his vision. He slams the laptop shut and rushes out of the apartment, keeping his hands firmly pressing on his ears until he practically falls down the stairwell and stumbles out to his motorcycle. He jams his helmet on and zips out of the parking garage without a single thought to the rules of the road, weaving in and out of cars at higher speeds than he usually dares, which is saying something.
He feels like he downed every energy drink he’s ever hated and a thousand shots of espresso all on an empty stomach. He’s hollow and buzzing. In lieu of blood his veins carry just adrenaline and anticipation, and he’s felt something like this plenty of times before but it’s just… different, now.
Even the things that are the same are different.
He isn’t evan pay attention to the road he takes– he’s too busy focusing on not letting Everything overwhelm him. Autopilot takes him down a dirt road, and another, and another, so far out that the stars actually become visible in the sky. 
And he sees the car.
Bright red, barrelling down the road, two heartbeats, one racing and one slow. He pushes his bike to it’s limit, speeding in front of the car. The brakes slam! 
He stops his bike and hops off, pulling off his helmet. The woman fumbles out of the car, squinting into the distance, her headlights pointing in a different direction than Shawn is standing. For a second he’s not sure why that matters. He can see perfectly fine. It sinks in a second later that of course he can– but there’s no lights out here except for the ones on that car.
No people, either. No anything.
Just him, this woman, and the car with the sleeping kid.
“What the hell was that?!” 
“Awesomely stopping a kidnapping,” Shawn fires back. The unbearable grating rasp of his voice makes the impact a little more horrifying than he was going for. The woman’s heartrate speeds up even more as she stumbles back.
“I have a gun!”
“Man, do you know how many guns I’ve had waved at me over the years? Look, I’m just here because you need to return your daughter to her dad.”
“So that’s it? He hired a thug to chase me down?”
“A thu– I am a psychic detective, Jack!” And a starving vampire, and he’s glad she’s slowly backing away because if he didn’t know he’d get some cruelty-free blood after this he might lose control entirely right now.
“My name isn’t Jack!”
“It’s not–! Just, get back in the car and take her home!”
“Never! She belongs in the pageant circuit, not wasting away in some school for poor kids!”
“Wow. I really didn’t think a mom kidnapping her own kid could get any scummier.”
“She’s a star, my star! I won’t have her wasting her potential like he would!”
“Listen, as someone who wasn’t allowed to waste his potential as a kid, she’ll just go nuts with it as an adult, okay? … Why am I trying to reason with the pageant mom kidnapper?”
“I’ll pay you double what he’s paying if you leave me be.”
“First of all, he’s paying me in blood, so unless you have an at-home blood drawing kit in your trunk I don’t think you will! Second of all, you suck, so I wouldn’t accept it anyway.”
“Blo- what?”
“Get in your car, turn back around, and give her back!”
“... Fine. You want me back in the car? Fine!”
“... She’s going to try to run me over, isn’t she?”
The door slams. The engine revs. Shawn nods to himself. He should’ve seen that one coming. Literally, even if common sense hadn’t kicked in the whole ‘psychic’ thing really should’ve. 
The car goes from 0 to 60 remarkably fast. He’s a decent distance from it, and just has time to dive out of the way before it slams into him! It goes another few feet and breaks hard, he hears the clutch move, presumably into Reverse–
And then he’s opening the door. He doesn’t remember getting up or moving, and the clutch is only just clicking into place when he yanks the door open, grabs her hand, and shoves the car park into Park.
“How did you–!” She looks him in the eyes, and freezes. Her heart might explode out of her chest. The little girl is still asleep in the backseat.
“Know your doors weren’t locked? Because you’re literally the worst kidnapper-attempted murderer I’ve ever seen.” His mouth hurts. The word feels as hollow as his insides, but he has to. If he stops being sarcastic, and stupid, and silly, something else will take over and he doesn’t want it to.
“Wh-what–”
“Look, like I’m said, I’m just here to make sure she gets back home. So turn around, take her back, and let me take you to the police station.”
Indescribable, uncontrollable, his words grip her like a snake and she just nods and does what he said without arguing.
It leaves him a little dizzy– he steps back from the car as she turns around and almost falls on his back. As he stumbles back to his bike she’s far ahead, but he knows where she is, what she’s doing, and it’s not psychically. He doesn’t know how he knows that, because he’s still figuring both of these things out, he just does. It’s some else, something tying them together until she’s done doing what he told her–
No, compelled her, to do.
He didn’t even mean to.
He better get a handle on that. Soon.
But for now, he follows.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lassiter wakes up with a start. “Oh, mother–”
He throws on a shirt, pants, and his holster, dashing out the door.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jules is picking at a late-night snack, finally feeling like eating again, when she straightens up. 
“Oh my god, we left him unsupervised.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus has just placed his order for bible-themed wallpaper (he and Father Wesley agreed that ripping one up would be sacrilege, even for the sake of protection) when he suddenly realizes something.
“He’s been alone all day!”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The reunion is touching, it really is– in a quiet, “Dad gratefully carries his sleepy and unaware daughter back to bed” kind of way, but Shawn can’t appreciate it. He can literally feel the thread he’s hanging on by fraying second by second, and he must look like it, because the client– he never even got the man’s name– quickly tells him he already left the blood in the Psych fridge like Shawn asked before quickly closing the door and locking it.
When they get to the station Shawn doesn’t even go inside with the mother– he just calls the front desk, tells the situation as quickly as possible, and sits on his bike. The moment the mom is taken inside, he takes off.
He cracks the Psych office door when he flings it open– doesn’t shatter it, though, so that’s a win. The fridge practically topples over with how forcefully he yanks it open, and–
There.
He grabs the bag. He doesn’t even have time to think about how he’ll do this before he’s biting into the thick rubber. Like before it coats his throat, soothes, and this time it is cold so it’s even more like a smoothie. It’s thick, and it’s not sweet in flavor but in relief, untwisting his insides and calming the assault of everything on his senses and easing the bone-gripping ache–
Ch-chck.
He opens his eyes as two guns cock in unison. 
“Shawn, put the blood bag down.” Jules’s voice is only shaky to anyone who knows her well, and Shawn does. 
It’s empty now anyway– he holds his hands up and faces them. Gus is running outside to puke, and Lassie and Jules both have their guns trained on him.
“Okay. I know how this looks,” Shawn starts. “But I promise it’s not nearly as bad as you think!”
“We leave you alone for one day and you rob a blood bank,” Lassie growls.
“I didn’t!”
“Why should we believe you?”
“Look, Lassie, I promise on your sweet sweet stern bush, I didn’t do anything illegal tonight.” Gus comes in just in time to look at Shawn with intense doubt.
“I’m serious! Not only that, but I totally found a solution to the whole blood thing!”
“Shawn, that doesn’t reassure us of anything!” Jules looks almost desperate.
“Guys, calm down.”
He didn’t mean to again. He didn’t mean to. But it happened, and they lower their guns, and Gus looks less inclined to run away screaming. And that’s good, right? It’s… good.
So Shawn grins. “Gus, we’re going to start taking a new kind of payment for private cases.”
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weirdmorefics · 1 year
Note
Can you do a Aaron hotchner young daughter reader who has autism and she starts struggling to control her emotions and she try’s to hit Aaron or jack but he tries to calm her down without triggering her worse
Autistic Daughter Reader x Father!Aaron Hotchner
Patterns and Observations
TW- Meltdowns, Panic Attacks, Sensory overload
Pronouns- She/her
Word Count- 954
Summary- Hotchner just finished a case sadly he was greeted with a nearly emptied fridge and Jessica had just left after watching the kids for three days. Hotch plans to take Jack and the reader to the grocery store but the reader starts to panic about the grocery store.
A/N- Oh my goodness, so sorry for how behind I am on requests. I just had a shop update so I have been very busy printing maybe check it out 👀 This fic would probably be super relatable for my Mom cause I use to slam my head on the floor of Walmart. Good times... not
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Hotch lets out a heavy sigh as he enters his home and sets his briefcase down. Y/N and Jack start running up to him as soon as they hear his signature sigh.
"How about we let your father rest for now he looks like he had a hard time at work." The kid's Aunt Jessica smiled politely.
"Don't worry, I may have had a hard time at work, but I always have time for my favorite people," He smiles and scoops them both into a group hug.
Y/N and Jack giggle and Jess smiles 'Looks like you have it all handled here I should really get going."
"Thank you again for watching them it helps so much," Hotch says as she prepares her stuff to leave.
"Anything for Niece and Nephew," she says pinching their checks as Jack rolls his eyes and Y/N winces. She kisses their heads and says her goodbyes and leaves.
"Now," Hotch clasps his heads together. "What should we have for dinner?"
"Chicken nuggets!" Y/N shouts.
"You always want that," Jack sighs.
Just as Jack and Y/N were about to start a rousing fight about chicken nuggets Hotch interrupted. "Lucky for the both of you we are nearly out of everything and have to go to the store if we want to eat dinner and breakfast."
Jack was instantly excited about leaving the house after being stuck there with his Aunt while his Dad was away. Y/N was not as excited as Jack and by that I mean she was not excited at all.
"Can't we just order food," She asks nervously. Y/N may be young but she knows patterns just like her father. She knows that is five o'clock and that is the time most adults get out of work which means the store will be busy with other adults bringing dinner home. If the store is crowded it will be loud and if it's loud everything else will be loud the lights, the wheels on the cart, the beeping of the registers. I try to physically shake the thoughts out of my head but it doesn't work so I shake my head faster and place my hands over my ears.
Hotch does not hear Y/N's shaking and answers while still looking in the fridge. "Well, we wouldn't have anything to eat for breakfast and you know how moody Jack gets when he is hungry." He chuckles.
Hotch's chuckle ceases when Jack says "I think there is something wrong with Y/N."
Hotch turns around faster than you think would be humanly possible to see Y/N shaking her hand and covering her ears.
"Hey Y/N, would you like to talk about how you are feeling right now?" He says as he slowly walks up to her.
" I think she needs a stim toy," Jack says happy to come up with a solution on his own.
"Great idea Jack why don't you get her one?" Hotch smiles.
Hotch returns his attention to Y/N, " I am going to hold your hands now because you are going to hurt your neck if you keep shaking your head so hard."
She can't seem to focus on his words too stuck in her repeated thoughts. When he takes her hands away from her she starts to try to hit him away. Instead, he takes her into a deep hug due to the fact he learned from Reid that deep pressure can calm autistic children and adults with hypo or hypersensitivity. Y/N's breaths slow after a couple minutes and her heart doesn't feel like it is beating out of her chest anymore.
"People get out of work at five then the store is busy and loud," Y/N states as a fact.
"That's a great observation, sometimes it helps to share your observations so we can make a plan. For example, like I do at my work we make observations about people so we can make a profile. So together let's make a plan to go to the store when it is less busy. What time do you think it's the least busy." Hotch replies in a soothing tone.
"Morning on a weekday everyone is at school or work so quiet and barely anyone is there." She responds flatly like she is reading it straight from a textbook in her mind.
"Great, then we will get take out tonight and shop tomorrow. If you keep up these great observations I might have to watch out for my job." Hotch says adding a joke at the end.
Y/N smiles and laughs, "I might be better at your job than you if I can tell when a grocery store isn't busy and you can't."
"Oh really if you would be so better than me at my job you'd have to be able to beat me in a tickle war and I don't think that has ever happened once." He says mischievously as he reaches his hands out to tickle her.
Y/N goes running to hide behind the couch and Jack enters confused. "What is going on?"
"Jack we must tickle him together or else we will never win!" She raises her hand and declared.
Jack quickly nods his head in agreement and they rush to tickle their dad.
"Hey. Hey. That's cheating," He shouts as they pile on top of him.
His shouts just make them giggle harder and he sighs in defeat, "How about we call it a draw in exchange for McDonald's?"
Jack and Y/N quickly get off him, "To the car!" They shouted in unison.
Hotch gets up shakes his head and far much enthusiastically says "To the car."
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olsenmyolsen · 1 year
Text
Comedy
Part 2 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen
Word Count: ~2.3K
masterlist
TW: Mentions of abuse/abusive relationship
Y/N POV
The last couple of hours have felt like a blur. As I've sat at my table, I've had a million different thoughts all at once.
Should I go back to school?
Do they even need me here?
I should call my mom. But should I, though?
Aww, that's a cute dog.
The longer I sit here, the more I feel Naomi and our memories returning. Fuck, my brain won't shut down. Oh, God, is my breathing getting quicker? Why is it so hot? My arms won't stop shaking. Please make this stop. Please...
Oh no.
"Come on, Y/N, you're really gonna sit there and make me the bad guy?"
I can feel my stomach shrinking. 
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home! Do you have any idea how this makes me look?"
I guess I did catch her in the act. I should've texted her or let her come to me and explain things at her own pace. What an idiot.
"How many times do I have to say that I don't love you!?"  Naomi goes up to raise her arm-
That last memory pulls me out. I shoot up in a panicked state, making the shop around me grow quieter. I can't look anywhere else but at my own feet. I'm afraid I'll break down if I make eye contact with anyone.
"Y/N?" I hear Max call out from behind me.
I can't let her see me like this. Taking no extra time, I look up and bolt out the front door. My feet and mind aren't stopping, and before I know it, I find myself hunched over with my legs pushed against my chest, crying on some random park bench.
People pass by, giving me looks of concern or judgment, but no one stops to say or do anything about the annoying crying girl. To make matters worse, I can't stop whenever my body lets me catch a breath; it only lasts for less than a second. I swear I dry heave the last tears I have.
I don't know how much time has passed, but I can tell you how many happy families, couples, and kids have passed. To me, they are a constant reminder of the happiness I can't reach. To them, I probably look like a zombie. A result of my dehydration mixed with knowing that my tired eyes are most likely bloodshot. Shit, I need to get control over myself. This isn't the first time this has happened as of late, and I know it won't be the last.
"Fuck you for making me this way," I whisper to Naomi, wherever the fuck she is.
I slowly am bringing myself down, breathing in and out, running my hands through my hair, trying to gather myself together. Before feeling comfortable enough to leave, I take a minute to close my eyes and take in the cool spring air on my face. I can't rem-
"Excuse me?" A distant voice shouts out. Is someone talking to me?
"Hey, coffee shop girl!" The voice is closer.
Okay, well, that has to be for me. I open my eyes and look at who is calling to me. I give a confused look before realizing. Oh shit. It's that woman from this morning, Liz. And she's making her way over to me. Wait, why me?
"Hey!" I awkwardly half shout, letting the embarrassment wash over me. I go to stand up as she approaches the bench.
"Hey, no, please stay seated. I saw you as I was walking across the park." Liz smiles down at me. "May I sit?"
"Yes, please," I say, wiping off the spot next to me on the bench. Liz lets out a playfully chuckle at my act. Liz thanks me and sits down. Not knowing what to do, I turn my attention to the other people around the park.
I catch Liz's head turned my way out of the corner of my eye. Thanks to her oversized sunglasses, I can't see her eyes, but she has to be looking at me, right?
"So you come here often?" Liz breaks the ice.
"To this specific bench? No. Now to this park? Sometimes." I smile at Liz. I can't get a read on how she likes the answer. She doesn't move her face at all. My eyes scan her face, but she's giving me nothing. The more I look at her; I feel myself getting lost. Have I been staring a while, or does it just feel like forever?
"Like what you see?" Liz catches me red-handed.
"No- I mean Yes, I uh- I'm sorry- I wasn't trying to stare- I don't-" I'm panicking. My brain and mouth are failing me. Oh, why now! Before I can say anything else, Liz thankfully stops me. "Hey, it's alright. I was teasing. No harm done. Cool?"
"Cool." Now quit embarrassing yourself.
"So are you ever gonna tell me your name, or do I have to keep showing up to your work with gigantic orders to get it?"
"Y/N." I hold my hand out to the mysterious beauty in front of me. She shakes it. "Liz. But you knew that already." Liz shines me a smile that could light up the world till the end of time. "Well, Liz, it's a pleasure to meet you officially."
"Agreed." She softly says. Wait agreed??
"Does this mean I'm never gonna see you at the coffee shop again?" Please say no.
Liz lets out a little giggle. "You'll still see me. I don't know how long, but trust me, you'll see me." There she goes again, giving me that smile. "Unless you're trying to get rid of me?"
"As if!" I jokingly scoff at her. She likes the joke and laughs. What is this feeling in my stomach? Pull it together, Y/N. "For real, Liz, between your order, your tip, and how busy we were today. It's keeping the bills paid." I flash her a playful wink and swear I see her blush.
"Can I be honest, Y/N?" Liz leans in. "I was coming back to your coffee shop." Oh? "I forgot to leave a tip for you guys this morning." Oh. "I was just in such a rush. Once I realized it, I was busy doing something else and felt so bad."
Even though I can't see her eyes, I could tell from her voice this bothered her. Like it's a mistake people make all the time. Why is she beating herself up about it?
"Liz!" I reach down and put my hands on top of hers, stopping her.
"You guys were just so nice earlier, letting me cut the line and-"
"Liz! It's okay. Shit happens. The fact that you seem to care this much means something. Trust me. It's okay." I look down and realize my thumbs have been rubbing along her rings and knuckles. Wow, how are someone's hands this soft? Wait, is that an eng-
"Thank you, Y/N." Liz squeezes my hands back but doesn't let them go.
"How about we get you back to the shop, so you don't have to worry anymore, okay?" Liz nods, and I let go of her hands in the process. We both stand up to start walking.
Liz turns to me as we begin our walk. "You don't have to walk me back, you know?" While yes, she is correct, but A) I want to! B) I left my phone and AirPods at the shop. C) I want to :)
"I know." I leave it at that. I divert my eyes away from her, and even though I don't see it, I feel a smile on her face.
As we make our way out of the park, I can't shake this feeling that Liz and I are being watched. After an internal debate, I turn around but don't see anyone looking at us. Weird.
Throughout the walk, the two of us remain silent. For some reason, I find myself so comfortable around her. It's a feeling I've come to miss over the last six months. "So tell me a little bit about yourself?"
"Oh. Umm. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. I work at a coffee shop. Duh. I am- I'm 24. Umm, let's see." Coming up with anything to say about myself is a challenge I wasn't expecting. I feel myself taking more and more time to come up with an answer.
"No offense, Y/N, but I didn't mean to make you struggle so much?" Liz says, chuckling.
"It's a lot harder than it seems," I whine, especially when there are specific topics I don't want to bring up right now.
"Here, how about this." Liz breaks my train of no thought. "Do you have any plans tonight?" I feel a flutter in my stomach.
"No." I softly say.
Liz smiles. "Great. How about I take you out. We'll go somewhere nice and relaxing. That way, we can get to know each other better without distractions? How does that sound?"
"That sounds lovely." Liz and I share a smile, and before I know it, we're back in front of the coffee shop. I run up and grab the door for her.
"Pretty and polite. Thank you, Y/N!" Hearing what she says makes my brain die. So instead of forming words, I shoot her a wink and follow her inside.
Liz heads to the front. I make it back to my table, blushing like an idiot. And shit, I see that my phone and AirPods are missing. I look around and see Liz talking to another one of our employees. She must be explaining the whole not tipping situation. I hope she still isn't beating herself up about it.
"Y/N!" Max shouts as her eyes land on me. A worried look is written all over her face. "Where the hell did you go? I was just about to go out looking for you!" Max runs around the counter and hugs me. I reciprocate and catch Liz's stance change watching us.
"I'm okay. I just had-" Max cuts me off. "I know. You don't have to explain. I just get worried about you. That's all." A weak smile appears on Max. I give her one back. "Oh, and here!" Max pulls out my phone and AirPods. "When you dipped, I noticed you left them, so I figured you'd be back, or I'd have to go find you."
"Thank you, Max. You're the sweetest."
"Y/N?" I hear as Liz walks up to us. "You okay?"
"Yes, I am, thank you. Max was just giving me some things back."
"Max." Max extenders a hand to Liz. Liz takes it and gives a smile that does not give off the warm demeanor it had earlier. "Liz."
Something clicks in, Max. "Oh wait, that's why your voice is so familiar. I remember you. You were the lady from earlier, the one that did-" max stops herself, but it's too late.
"Don't worry, I came back with help from Y/N and righted the situation. Right Y/N." I nod. "Right, Liz."
"Oh, you didn't have to, and I'm sorry-" Liz's phone rings before Max can continue.
"Dang it. It's work. I have to take this." Liz excuses herself to the front of the shop and answers her phone.
I turn my attention away from watching Liz and meet Max's eyes. "So you and Liz, huh?"
"Me and Liz, what? She met me in the park on her way here. I just walked with her, and I needed to get my phone. Remember? Also, I literally just met her today!" Max rolls her eyes. She can always see right through me. "Whatever you say, Y/N." She lightly jabs my arms before turning her serious mode on. "For real, Y/N. You okay?"
I let out a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm doing okay. Naomi just got her way into my head again, and I couldn't stop myself. I'm trying, Max."
"Hey. I know. It's okay. I'm always gonna be here for you." I hug Max before looking back at a now stressed-out Liz. "Go save her." Max pats my back and gives me a shove.
I make my way in front of Liz, who puts her hand up, mocking the other person on the phone, causing her and I to crack up.
Liz shushes me before answering the other person on the phone. "No, I'm not laughing at you, Robbie. Something funny just happened in front of me. Look, listen, I got to go. We can finish this talk later. Alright. Alright. See you later." Liz puts her phone in her purse and pulls her attention towards me.
"Everything okay with work?" I ask, not trying to pry but just sneakily letting her know she can talk to me.
"It's not looking good, but that's not important right now. Give me your phone."
"Yes, ma'am" I take it out of pocket and unlock it for her without another word. Liz takes it and begins typing away.
She hands my phone back to me. "I just texted myself from your phone, so you have my number. So I'll text you the address and time for our date, and you just meet me there. You don't have to wear anything too fancy. Cool?"
"Cool." This is all happening so fast, but I don't mind it. "Thank you, Liz." After meeting her at the park, my day did a 180, but I'm not going to share that.
"It's not a problem at all, Y/N. Now I hate to do this, but after that phone call, there is somewhere I have to be right now. So I'll see you tonight."
Liz starts to head out the door before stopping and turning back to me. "Oh, and Y/N."
"Yes, Liz?"
"Miss not, ma'am. Remember that for next time. Okay?" And just like that, she's gone.
Part 3
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crystalninjaphoenix · 10 days
Text
Many Roads Diverge in the Woods - Second Run - Part Five
The Beginning | Previous
The results are in.
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You've made your decision. Wonder what you'll see? We're about halfway through the choices now! It doesn't seem like much has happened, but trust me, things get crazy from now on in all choice branches.
The poll at the bottom to decide what happens next is only open for one day, expiring on April 18th at 12:00pm PST. Part Six will be up the next day, April 19th, at the same time.
<><><><><><><><><><><>
“Alright, fine, we don’t have to drag Marvin upstairs,” Jackie groans. “But the moment he gets up here, I’m asking him why you guys thought he was being weird.”
JJ glances back at the basement door, looking a bit uneasy. But he relents now that the three others have made their decision. Alright. I hope he won’t be long, he says.
“It will be fine,” Schneep says. “Besides, I do not think we should leave cooking food unsupervised. Especially in a cabin that is not ours. If we burn the oven Jack will be so angry. Speaking of which, I am going back to keep an eye on them.” He says that last part as he turns around and heads back into the kitchen.
Jackie and Chase sit back down on the sofa. JJ hovers for a bit before sitting down in a nearby armchair. “Are we all good?” Chase asks.
“Yeah, of course,” Jackie says. “Now let’s catch up to where we were before. Maybe it’s my turn now?”
“We’llll seeee,” Chase says as he picks up the controller. “If you didn’t mess with the game while I was downstairs with JJ, then you’ll have earned your turn.”
“What?! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, like you wouldn’t take the opportunity to fuck with me by putting me halfway across the map.”
Jackie grins. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Everything is in order, though, so Jackie gets his turn. But he doesn’t play for that long before the basement door opens. Marvin stands in the doorway. He glances at the TV. “Continuing without me?”
“We didn’t know how long you’d be down there!” Jackie says defensively.
“It’ll be a little while longer,” Marvin says. “Where’s Schneep?”
Right as he says that, Schneep appears in the kitchen entrance. “Ah, Marvin. Good to...” Schneep trails off. “Are... are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I... don’t know...” Schneep says quietly. Chase has to agree with him. There’s something... different about Marvin right now. He sees the same faint confusion on Jackie and JJ’s faces. Maybe Marvin is standing differently, somehow?
“Well, I’m fine,” Marvin says. “I found something strange. Come on, I want to show you guys.” And he turns around, going back down the stairs.
JJ gets to his feet. Now we are DEFINITELY going after him, he says, glaring at the others. There’s no room for argument in his face.
“Okay, okay,” Schneep says. “Let me just turn off the ovens. This may take a while.”
He does that, and the four of them get up and go down the stairs to the basement. The hallway extends before them. Marvin is nowhere in sight. “Uh... where’d he go?” Jackie asks.
“He was in this big room at the back before,” Chase says. “He’s probably there now. Come on.”
But when they arrive there, Marvin is still nowhere to be seen.“Uh...” Chase’s mind goes blank. “Did any of you guys notice anything in the other rooms? Was one of the doors open?”
“I did not see anything,” Schneep says.
“Yeah, they were all closed except for the one with the fuse box,” Jackie says. “And that one was open. I didn’t see Marvin in there.”
“Well he wanted us to see something, so he’s down here somewhere.” Chase shakes his head.
He could have gone into one of the other rooms and closed the door behind him, JJ suggests. But... He suddenly stops signing. His eyes have landed on the nearest bookcase. Frowning, he walks over.
“Jamie?” Schneep asks. “What is it?”
JJ doesn’t answer right away. He crouches down to the ground and reaches into a small gap between the bookcase and the wall behind it. When he stands up again, he’s holding a book in his hand. A thin, old-looking book, with yellowed pages and a cracked leather cover. He stares at it, turning it over in his hands.
“What’s that?” Chase asks.
JJ puts the book on the bookcase’s middle shelf, freeing his hands for sign. It was behind the bookshelf. I don’t know if it fell down there or... if someone put it there deliberately.
“Does it really matter? It’s just some old book.”
JJ frowns. I suppose that’s true. But it’s odd that—
His signing is interrupted by the sound of a door opening. In unison, the four guys turn and stare down the hall. One of the doors has opened. The one next to the room with the fuse box. And Marvin walks right out. “Guys, I’m right here,” he says, sounding a bit impatient.
Jackie throws his hands in the air. “Well how the fuck were we supposed to know that? The door was closed!”
“It was?” Marvin looks back at the door. He laughs a little. “Oh yeah. I guess I closed it. Must be a habit. Sorry, guys. Anyway, you guys need to see this. It’s a bit, uh...” His faint smile fades. “It’s weird.”
“What is it?” Schneep asks.
“Uh... I-I don’t know how to explain it. It’ll be easier if you guys just see it. I mean... you’re right here. You just have to walk down the hallway.”
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eddiethehunted · 1 year
Text
excerpt from yet another silly fic i've started and probably will not finish because i am a firm eddie likes chick flicks truther:
"So, will you let me stay over?" Eddie clutches his hands out in front of him, pushing his lower lip out and giving Steve the saddest, wettest eyes he's ever seen in his life. "I beseech thee, my King. I am too fair and beautiful to keep melting away in my trailer."
Steve huffs out an amused breath through his nose but doesn't say anything, shaking his head. Eddie groans, letting his head fall onto the counter with a quiet thunk.
"Steve, I'm seriously dying, you have no idea how hot it gets in there." His voice is muffled. "It's a fucking hunk of metal. Traps the heat like you wouldn't believe—"
"No, I get it," Steve says, grinning. "It's just fun to listen to you get worked up."
"Evil," Eddie hisses into the counter. His head flies up, curls going everywhere. "We can watch movies and get drunk. I'll even pay for the food and beer."
Getting drunk with Eddie is... never a good idea. At least for Steve. A drunk Steve is a flirty Steve, and he's already struggling to control himself around Eddie for fear of scaring off one of the only friends his age that he has.
"Chick flicks, huh?" he says, picking up a couple of the movies Eddie had selected. "Pretty in Pink? Sixteen Candles?" He glances up, his lips twitching into a smile. "Didn't peg you as a chick flicks kinda guy."
"You haven't pegged me at all," Eddie says reproachfully, cackling when Steve makes a face at him. "C'mon, Stevie, they're fun," he insists. “You like girls.”
"I do like girls," Steve concedes. He doesn't bother to clarify that he also likes guys, because then Eddie might start putting pieces together, and Steve isn't quite ready to deal with all that.
"Exactly," Eddie says, throwing his hands up. "Think of all the pretty girls in chick flicks. All the… boobs, or whatever. Ooh, and all the pretty hair and big doe eyes and pouty lips. Very Nancy Wheeler."
"Okay, shut up," Steve says irritably, a flush creeping up his neck despite himself, because those words do describe Nancy, but they also describe Eddie. "You just want free AC."
"And to watch movies and hang out with my dear friend Steve," Eddie says, leaning over the counter and into Steve's space with a wide smile. "Because I adore and treasure him so much, even when he is so mean to me."
Steve tries not to blush. He really, really does. Bites hard on the insides of his cheeks and thinks about awful things, like the inside of a demogorgon's mouth, or like the permanent stench of Keith's work shoes in the back room. To his dismay, he feels heat flooding his cheeks, and has to look away with a scoff to hide it.
“Fine,” he says, because he really can’t say no to Eddie. “We’re ordering Chinese.”
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lonesome-witching · 7 months
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Broken Pieces (AKA Mind Control Part 3)
I once again bring you the Mind Control AU (Part 1 and Part 2) with a third (probably not final) edition. This was requested by @thepartyfriendship and an anonymous prompter. This is the first time two people have send me the same prompt. At least that is how I'm interpreting the messages because I thought it was cool. Anyway, here is part 3. I hope I have done it justice.
You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.
Nancy watched helplessly as Steve wrapped Robin’s arm. Her own hands were still shaking. It didn’t matter that Robin smiled at her, the guilt was eating at Nancy’s heart.
“Steve? Can you leave us for a moment?” Robin asked.
Steve searched Robin’s face and then nodded hesitantly. “Just shout if you need anything.”
Robin nodded, watching the boys exit the room. Nancy remained curled up within herself, sitting next to her bed.
“Are you alright?” Robin asked the second the door closed.
Nancy laughed and noticed Robin tense up. “Sorry, it’s just a bit ridiculous that you are asking me if I’m alright. You got shot because of me.”
“And I’d do it again. And again. And again. Nancy, I would shoot myself a thousand times over if it helped safe you.’
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to!” Nancy jumped up. “Maybe I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me. Maybe I want you to be safe. Even if that means being far away from me.”
“I know you want that. But Nance, this isn’t just about you. I wouldn’t be safe if I was far away from you because I don’t know if I can still breathe without you around. I— Nance, you mean everything to me. I’m not going to leave when you’re in danger.”
“What if I want you to leave?” Nancy felt tears prick in her eyes. She didn’t want Robin to leave. She wanted Robin to come closer. She wanted Robin to hold her.
“Then I’ll leave, after I make sure you’re okay. After I make sure Vecna is gone and dead and buried. After I know you’re safe, I’ll leave. You’ll never have to see me again.”
Robin was cradling her arm. A grimace on her face. “Does it hurt?” Nancy asked carefully. Her voice nothing more than a plea for Robin to look at her.
“Yeah, it does.” Robin looked at the ceiling instead. “You know, I don’t get you. You write in your diary about how much you love me and about how amazing I am, but to my face you’re acting like a bitch.”
“You read that?” In the midst of everything Nancy had forgotten she even kept a diary.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy or anything. I was just trying to figure out what was wrong with you.”
Nancy nodded.  She wasn’t angry with Robin. She doubted she could be.
“Nance, I think it’s pretty obvious how I feel about you.”
“I’m still dating Jonathan,” Nancy responded quickly. It only resulted in Robin taking a step back.
“I know. I’m not trying to come on to you or anything.”
“I know.”
“So, are you alright? Any traces of Vecna left?”
“I don’t know. I feel weird. And it’s like somewhere in the back of my head he’s still simmering, like some kind of parasite. Just feeding off me and waiting to strike again.” Nancy hugged her arms around herself, hoping to find some kind of comfort in her own embrace. She didn’t.
“Is it— Can I hug you? Is that okay?” Robin asked carefully. Treating Nancy like the ticking time bomb she really was.
“Yeah, I’d really like that actually.”
Robin wrapped herself around Nancy, not caring about her injured arm or her hurt feelings. “I’ve got you, Nance. I’ve got you until you tell me to let go.”
Nancy held onto Robin, pulling her ever closer. “Please, never do. Don’t let go.” She barely noticed the sobs wreaking havoc on her body.
“I won’t. I’ll hold on.”
“I really do love you, Robin.” Nancy whispered in Robin’s ear. Hoping Robin hadn’t heard her. Hoping Robin had.
---
Steve took Robin home. Or maybe to the hospital. He hadn’t said much. He had just grabbed Robin’s good arm and told them they were leaving. Jonathan had stayed. He had looked at Nancy with sad eyes before sinking into the couch.
“Should we talk?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Probably.”
“Are we breaking up?”
“Probably.”
Nancy didn’t cry as she pushed herself through the inevitable. Instead, she pictured Robin’s embrace and her kind words. She thought back to the fairytales her mother had read to her when she was a kid. About how true love conquered all. A true loves kiss erased all the curses in the world. And she hoped that the solution was that easy. That all she needed was to kiss Robin and it would clear up her head. That it would erase Vecna and then they could plan on how to shoot the bastard once again.
Jonathan slammed the door as he left and suddenly Nancy was all alone. All alone with traces of evil lurking in the back of her mind. Slowly she dragged herself upstairs. She noticed the gun that still lay on the floor and for the first time noticed the diary that lay folded open next to the bed.
She walked to her nightstand, opened the drawer and picked up her Walkman. She doubted it would help but she’d be stupid not to try.
She crawled under the covers and closed her eyes. Dreaming of Robin. Maybe in some alternate universe there wouldn’t be an Upside Down. Maybe there she had met Robin at school. Maybe there she’d have kissed Robin before she kissed Steve or Jonathan. Maybe there was a universe out there where she hadn’t made the mistakes she had made in this one. One where Barb was still alive. One where Mike didn’t wake up screaming late at night. One where she didn’t have to worry about Holly never growing old.
Tomorrow she’d call Robin. She’d tell her that she broke up with Jonathan. She’d ask to meet and then she’d kiss Robin. She’d kiss her and she’d never stop kissing her. She’d drown in Robin’s body and swallow up her smell. Tomorrow she’d fix everything.
But today she was too tired. Today she needed to sleep.
---
Robin fell down on her bed. The back of her head itched. As her hands reached over to scratch, she felt a strange liquid on her fingertips. She pulled her hand back and saw the drops of blood sliding down her fingers.
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🎵 Whirling in Rags, 8 AM
3. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that. I know for a fact there's still plenty of drugs out there."
TITUS HARDIE - "No, there aren't. Some little shit and his dad are doing speed. Boo-fucking-hoo. The stuff's probably from Jamrock."
EUGENE - "Whatever you've seen is peanuts. Look at the big picture, man. The place is a paradise -- and all thanks to Hardie boys!"
TITUS HARDIE - "Theoretically, of course. We're just talking politics here. My answer to your drug accusation is: *How dare you? Go fuck yourself!*"
KIM KITSURAGI - "Not quite yet, Mr. Hardie. There were eight sets of prints on the crime scene. There are only seven Hardie boys here."
"The eighth Hardie -- the one who's missing. She runs the thing, right?"
TITUS HARDIE - "My answer is: *fuck off*!" He takes a step closer. "Mind your own business. There is no *eighth Hardie*. I run this goddamn scene!"
SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - Finally, you got something out of him. This could prove useful in the future.
ELIZABETH - "Aaaand here we go. Back to the usual." The woman sighs.
SHANKY - "I know, I know!" The little man raises his index finger excitedly. "Fattie walked on all fours. He's so fucking fat he left two sets of footprints."
FAT ANGUS - "Go fuck your mom, Dennis."
ELIZABETH - "That's more like it, boys." She turns to you. "You heard him, it was Angus on all fours. Anything else you need to know?"
Task complete: Confront Hardie boys about drug trade
+30 XP
Level up!
We've learned something. Let's go back and approach this from another angle.
2. "I want to talk about the hanging again."
TITUS HARDIE - "Again? Just get the dead guy's autograph -- since you're his biggest fan."
SHANKY - A burst of laughter in the room; the little guy is the loudest. "Good one, Titus!" he fawns.
Skipping ahead slightly...
(Address Titus.) "No, but seriously -- who calls the shots around here?"
TITUS HARDIE - "Who do you fucking think does?" He sounds more amused than angry.
AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - He's so sure it's him -- but it's not that simple. There's someone above him (or beside him?) sharing the leadership. Hard to say who...
We now have a new option.
6. "It's the eighth Hardie boy. The one who's missing. The big dick."
GLEN - A moment of silence. The long haired one breaks it: "Titus, no one was thinking..."
+5 XP
AUTHORITY - That's it. There's some kind of power issue they don't want to admit -- and the missing Hardie is involved.
TITUS HARDIE - "No, no, no..." He shakes his head: "FUCK NO! The big dick is right here, asshole! You're looking at it!" He grabs his crotch. "Right fucking here!"
ELIZABETH - "Disregard the outburst, officer." She gives Titus a condescending glance. "None of the boys have any more comments on their power relations. That night they acted as one. That's all."
Back to the main hub.
3. "I talked to Joyce. The merc you hanged -- his friends are coming for you."
TITUS HARDIE - "Yeah?" He doesn't seem worried. "By friends you mean his squadmates from Krenel?"
EUGENE - "Wouldn't wanna beat up his grandma." There's snickering in the room. Some of the men put their beers down.
EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] - Titus did his best, but his men are a bit unsettled.
"Yes, they are forming some kind of *tribunal* -- and they're coming for you."
"Forget I mentioned it, it was probably nothing."
KIM KITSURAGI - "This is what happens if you take the law into your own hands. Other people start doing it too."
GLEN - "Let them come!" Blondie yells across the cafeteria. "The Hardie boys are right fucking here!"
TITUS HARDIE - "You heard the man -- right here." He points to the ground. "We're armed, we got the whole district behind us and Glen... Glen is fucking *crazy*."
ALAIN - "Yeah, a well oiled murder-machine!" He punches blondie on the shoulder.
"This Krenel is bad news. You know that, right?"
"The mercenaries are armed with automatic weapons."
"Joyce said they've gone rogue. Nobody is controlling them."
"Okay." (Conclude with a shrug.)
TITUS HARDIE - "Pft!" A spray of beer. "So were the local gangs. The fuckin' *Barmy Army* and the Madre scum. You've been out there. Seen any around?"
ALAIN - "Yeah? Where are they now, huh?" He points South. "Sent back to Madre in an airtight cargo crate."
KIM KITSURAGI - "These people are trained military professionals. Special forces, as you said. They're not a gang, or a *Barmy Army*."
TITUS HARDIE - "No, they're not. They're un-coordinated and drunk. We know more about them than you think."
2. "The mercenaries are armed with automatic weapons."
TITUS HARDIE - "We got weapons of our own." He cracks open his vest to give you a glimpse of his holster. "We got Ister 50s, Zielegers, Glen's got a nock-cannon at home..."
"Will they pierce ceramic armour?"
"Well if Glen has a *nock-cannon* at home I guess you'll be alright."
TITUS HARDIE - "I guess we're gonna see, aren't we?"
"See what? That they don't?"
"For your sake, I hope you're right."
TITUS HARDIE - "Yeah, like you've been up against ceramic armour..." He takes a sip of beer to bide his time, then tries to get the last word in.
"You haven't even seen the whole suit, right? I've seen the whole fucking thing and it didn't make him immortal."
3. "Joyce said they've gone rogue. Nobody is controlling them."
TITUS HARDIE - "Big fucking surprise..." He mutters. "They hire psycho scum, arm them to the teeth and let them loose in the city. What do you think is gonna happen?"
4. "Okay." (Conclude with a shrug.)
TITUS HARDIE - "What do you mean *okay*?" He jerks forward a bit.
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sketchg0blin · 8 days
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The Porcelain Man
Jack was an up-and-coming certified public accountant with a chip on his shoulder and a new apartment in a new city. Today was his first day at his new job and he felt like now, it’s time to unwind for the evening. He prepares himself a luxurious meal of ham and cheese Hot Pocket and Sour Cream and Onion Ruffles, then prepares his spot on the couch to play video games. RPGs tend to be his go-to when he is looking to relax but today, he was feeling like a shooter. Valorant maybe? Nah probably Apex he thought to himself. He plops down on the new fabric upholstered couch from Ashleys that was less than comfortable but was too good a price to pass on.  
Jack loads up his Xbox but Damnit he thinks Forgot my drink. He rises from his place with a labored huff. He shuffles his way to the kitchen, not a difficult feat as the apartment is primarily an open floorplan. The kitchen is only separated from the living room by a bar counter, so it's only a small effort to reach the refrigerator. He whips the door open and reaches for a light beer. He had done some minimal shopping to get him by till the weekend. He is primarily stocked up with microwave meals, snacks, and soda. He takes a moment to admire the cleanliness within the new refrigerator, as it will inevitably get crusted with various spills in the future so its best that he takes in this unicorn now while he can. 
Upon closing the fridge, he looks at the tips of his fingers in surprise. They have a glassy sheen to them and, now that he thinks about it, they are numb? He calmly sets the beer down on the counter and observes his hands. He touches his fingers to his face, surprised to feel that his fingers are cold to the touch. With a little more urgency now, he runs some warm water in the kitchen sink and rests his fingers under the stream of water. Could this be some sort of neuropathy? Does neuropathy make your fingers cold? He shakes his head to regain control of his racing thoughts. After a few minutes under the water, he leaves the kitchen to grab his phone but once he has it in hand, he finds he cannot unlock it. He goes to enter his passcode, but the phone does not recognize the finger contact. The fingers tap on the screen with an unsettling clink that makes Jack shudder. What the fuck is going on?!?! He can feel his heart beating out of his chest at a million miles per hour and he finds himself having a harder time controlling himself from beginning to panic.  
Before he knew it, he dropped the phone on the floor, and when he goes to pick it up, he can no longer squeeze his fingers around the phone case to grip it. His fingers are frozen in the perpetual half cupping position they were in while holding the phone. Hyperventilation begins, what do I even do? Should I try to make for the neighboring apartment and hope they respond?? What would I even tell them? He tries to slow his breathing down and think, Have I taken anything, started any new medications?  
How old am I? When does schizophrenia usually present itself? I think if you're going to get it, you start showing in what.... your early 20s? I’m 24 so that's possible. Yeah, probably a hallucination. 
If I’m hallucinating and I flag down a neighbor, they will probably call the cops too... Would I be committed? I’ll miss work!  
Can you even wait out hallucinations? What do I do if it doesn’t stop? - 
His racing thoughts are interrupted by another mind-shattering realization. He can no longer feel anything below his elbows, and he cannot control his lower arms. Upon further examination they are also glistening like glass, it’s as if his body were turning into pure porcelain. The panic sets in again as Jack makes for the front door and finds he cannot open it. Frantically he looks around for some means to open the door but ends up forgoing other options to attempt opening it with his foot. He uses the curve of his foot to try and grip the smooth cold doorknob and he can feel it start to rotate. His leverage is weak though and the knob shoots back to its resting position. God! Why didn’t I take up yoga back when I was in Tulsa!  
Jack cries out in both pain and despair as his panic begins to turn into tunnel vision. He looks around to come up with a new solution to get out of the apartment but finds himself having a hard time concentrating on any single thought as his mind races.  
This isn’t a hallucination, it can’t be! What the fuck is going on!!! It’s real, it’s fucking real, what the fuck. 
He starts to sob and sink himself to the floor in front of his front door. He can feel the snot sliding down his face and the red-hot inflammation in his face. His eyes burn from the saline-esque tears, blinding and blurring his vision to all around him as he gives in to his despair. 
Am I going to die? What can I even do? Is it just my skin that's hardening or is it everything? 
He eyes the pillar separating the kitchen and living area and has an idea that makes him squirm. He struggles to stand up, but he slowly makes his way over to the pillar and eyes it for a few moments. He draws one of his arms back with a rotating of his waist and shoulders then SLAM. He can hear what is akin to breaking glass, but his ears are ringing, and his vision is blurred. As the world around him comes into focus he can see shards on the ground, but when he turns his attention to where he struck the pillar, there are splatters of blood slowly racing down the painted grey pillar. He finally begins to understand what he sees and begins to wail. 
His scream was like that of a visceral terror mixed with unfathomable pain, his world began to spin, and he could see the pillar race away from view as his gaze met the ceiling then... THUNK CRASH. 
...... 
Sirens wail outside of an apartment building on 21st street south. A young man had been heard screaming bloody murder claimed several neighbors who had called in around the same time. Paramedics and police crowd the sidewalk entrance as they discuss what they’ve seen amongst themselves. A welfare check had been called, neighbors assumed there mustve been a domestic violence situation, but this man was a newcomer to this building, and no one had seen comings and goings from the apartment besides Jack himself.  
The police and team of EMTs make their way up to the 3rd floor and the door was unlocked. They call him through the door “Mr. Jackson Holkhalter? We are with the Seattle Police department please open up!” The answer is silence as they open the door and make their way in. The scene before them is of gore and glass. “Ah shit.... another one of these.”  
In the middle of the floor lay only the torso of Jackson Holkhalter and his lower half has been shattered into fragmented bloody pieces, which a pool of dark oxygenated blood only just coagulating is gathered around, staining the vinyl wood flooring as if a macabre Jackson Pollock work. He looked almost peaceful, like a sleeping doll has been laid onto the floor.  
“This has been the 3rd reported case of this new disease this week, this is quickly turning into an epidemic” Says one paramedic to the other as they work to gather the shards on the dead man from the floor. 
“What are they calling it now, Porcelain doll syndrome or something?” Asks the officer taking photos of the scene. “I believe that's what most people are calling it anyway, Hits suddenly without warning and can kill in hours without medical intervention” 
The cop sighs, noting the uneaten hot pocket and apex lobby on the tv screen. Another young man, taken in his prime. 
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tweetsongs · 1 year
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Transmigrating into the Reborn Male Lead’s Ex-Boyfriend Chapter 154
previous chapter | next chapter
chapter 154! more angst and suffering.
once again reminder that this is a casual translation, if some things sound weird they're probably my mistakes 🙏. last chapter should be up in a few days!
-
Time seemed to rewind, and Song Xuanhe was brought back to that rainy evening that changed everything.
In the car back then, the boy in front of him had the same expression on his face, the youthful face tense with the effort of pretending to be calm, while his eyes couldn’t hide the nervous love that he felt.
He had a beautiful face, with eyes that were both full of emotion and concealed his intentions. When someone had these kinds of features, it was easy for people to forgive his wrongdoings and his imperfections. Xiao Yuanmu used this natural talent to great effect, and because he had so many other talents, it was even easier for others to let him off the hook easily.
This was a natural fault in the nature of humankind, it was impossible to change.
Even as a designer who often saw beauty in all its forms, who wasn’t easily moved, Song Xuanhe had a hard time resisting this attack.
Back then, Song Xuanhe had already forgiven him the moment he spoke. But at that time, because of forces outside of his control, he couldn’t say anything.
This time, though, it was different.
Song Xuanhe closed the door behind him, and moved steadily to Xiao Yuanmu’s bedside. He placed his hand gently on his face, brushing a finger across the corner of his eye while saying: “You and I are the same. There will never be anything that you can do that will hurt me, except if you leave me.”
He looked at Xiao Yuanmu, finding his answer in his shaking gaze. “Are you preparing to leave me?”
Xiao Yuanmu looked at Song Xuanhe, dark eyes overflowing with light. He gently lifted the corners of his lips and took Song Xuanhe’s hand. “No matter what, I will never voluntarily leave you.”
Song Xuanhe blinked hard, the sour feeling at the back of his nose rising to his eyes.
“Xiao Yuanmu, what exactly is wrong with you?”
Xiao Yuanmu didn’t answer, but the system did.
[Xiao Yuanmu is experiencing organ failure.]
Song Xuanhe asked blankly: [What does that mean?]
[Whether it’s his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys, stomach...]
“I know what organ failure means!” Song Xuanhe shouted. “I’m asking why.”
[After you completed your mission, my system was returned to its original settings, and it takes longer for me to execute many tasks. I’m trying to figure out why he’s experiencing organ failure, but I need more time...]
“How much?”
[I don’t know, I’m guessing around fifty hours or so.]
“Xuanhe.”
“Can’t it be faster?” Song Xuanhe’s face was tense. “Can you find a treatment?”
[If I could find the reason for the failure, then the chances of finding a treatment would be high. But I can’t be sure that this planet will have any way of completely treating Xiao Yuanmu.]
“Please find the cause quickly,” Song Xuanhe said softly. “Thank you.”
The system paused, then said: [Don’t thank me, and don’t apologize to me either. Everything I do for you is only what I’m supposed to be doing anyways.]
Song Xuanhe opened his mouth to reply, when Xiao Yuanmu interrupted him and asked: “Who are you talking to?”
“Wait until the time is right.” Song Xuanhe looked at Xiao Yuanmu. “You told me that before- that, when the time is right, you’ll tell me your secret.”
Xiao Yuanmu looked into his eyes, then suddenly laughed. 
“You’re not Song Xuanhe,” he said confidently.
“I am Song Xuanhe.”
“Not the Song Xuanhe I met,” Xiao Yuanmu shook his head, pulling Song Xuanhe’s hand down and tracing it. “Until now, I kept thinking that it was a parallel universe.”
Song Xuanhe looked at him without much surprise.
Xiao Yuanmu had a distant look on his face, and he raised his hand. “A few days ago, I suddenly found that it was difficult to control my hand.”
Song Xuanhe’s gaze moved to his hand. His hand was beautiful, with long pale fingers, neatly cut nails, and no imperfections. Looking closer, though, he saw a faint tremor going through the hand.
Xiao Yuanmu’s lips tilted up slightly. “This is what happens when I use all of my strength to control my hand.”
“A few days ago, I went back to visit Dr. Gao Sen to do a physical checkup using his private laboratory,” Xiao Yuanmu said. “I found irregularities in my body at the time in my life when I was most looking forward to the future. It was my fault for not properly paying attention to my health. I kept putting off telling you until it came to this.”
“Back then, I could tell that you were going through something difficult,” Xiao Yuanmu told Song Xuanhe. “I didn’t want to burden you more when I didn’t have any definitive results.”
Song Xuanhe didn’t look at Xiao Yuanmu, the hand resting on his bed turning pale.
“My body was only acting up a little back then, and there were a lot of things going on in the company, so I spent most of my time at work and made an appointment to fly back and check with Dr. Gao Sen afterwards.”
Song Xuanhe raised his head, looking at Xiao Yuanmu and speaking one sentence at a time. “When you came back, you introduced me to your lawyer, your doctor, and your financial advisor one by one. This was because of your results, wasn’t it?”
Xiao Yuanmu grabbed the hand that Song Xuanhe left on the bed, his shaking, chilly fingers sending a shiver through Song Xuanhe’s cold body.
“I thought about getting you to leave,” Xiao Yuanmu’s grip on Song Xuanhe’s hand tightened, eyes darkening. “But I couldn’t.” 
He looked at Song Xuanhe, eyes filled with an apology and an even deeper regret. “I’m sorry.”
Song Xuanhe: “Remember the seafood congee.”
Xiao Yuanmu paused, eyes softening with a smile. “Okay.”
In a moment, the smile in his eyes scattered again, replaced with a thousand heavy emotions. He pushed them down again.
“Do you believe in reincarnation?” Xiao Yuanmu asked softly. He didn’t look at Song Xuanhe, looking out into the air instead.
“I do.”
Xiao Yuanmu’s eyelashes shook. “I’ve died twice now.”
Song Xuanhe’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at Xiao Yuanmu with astonishment. Seeing the surprise in his eyes, Xiao Yuanmu frowned to himself a little mockingly. 
“Are you afraid?”
[Twice?] Song Xuanhe asked in his mind. [Xiao Yuanmu reincarnated twice?]
[Xiao Yuanmu reincarnated twice?] 
From its tone, the system sounded even more surprised.
For some reason, hearing someone be more surprised than him, Song Xuanhe found himself calming down. He looked at Xiao Yuanmu.
“You said before that you thought this was a parallel universe. What do you mean?”
“Before the first time I was reborn, I met you for the first time.” Xiao Yuanmu said placidly. “It wasn’t you, actually, it was another Song Xuanhe. He could be counted as the main reason for my rebirth, and when I was first reborn I truly hated him. But there were too many things that needed my attention, and I gradually forgot to keep track of him. Until his death, I never saw him again.”
“After I was reborn for the second time, I thought it would be like that again,” Xiao Yuanmu said, looking at Song Xuanhe. “But it wasn’t the same.”
“You were different from him. At first, it was only a suspicion, but soon it became a certainty. But this was a good thing to me, since it let me accept the fact that I fell in love with you more easily.” Xiao Yuanmu said. “So I thought of this world as a parallel version of the first world. Now, though, listening to you talk to yourself just now, I’m beginning to think that I might be wrong.”
“Your first rebirth was because of me, what about your second?” Song Xuanhe asked. “How did you die then?”
“A car accident.” Xiao Yuanmu’s lips twitched. “The last round, Xiao Baicong also crushed his leg, but it was only the one leg that time, so he didn’t give up on taking over the Xiao family business. Using Zhang Siwei’s cousin and Bai Mo, they planned a car accident.”
Song Xuanhe frowned and asked: “Why were you fooled back then?”
Xiao Yuanmu looked at him with a smile in his eyes. “Because you weren’t there last time.”
Song Xuanhe didn’t know what subtext lay beneath the surface-level meaning of Xiao Yuanmu’s words, and didn’t try to decipher what story hid behind this phrase. Even with just the words themselves, he could feel his heart twist painfully.
“You have me in this world, so you’ll survive this time.” Song Xuanhe said.
Xiao Yuanmu smiled and shook his head. “Before I met you, I thought that it was because I made too many mistakes in my previous life, that the heavens were punishing me. Now, after knowing you, I understand why I was reborn.”
“Yang Jie and Louis will help you, and the financial advisor that I introduced you to has-”
Song Xuanhe stopped him mid-sentence, teeth digging into his bottom lip and slipping his tongue between his teeth with passion underlaid with fury. Xiao Yuanmu was forced to wrest control back from him as the kiss grew out of control.
By the time the two separated, they were both breathing erratically.
“Xiao Yuanmu,” Song Xuanhe said. “You told me your secret. Now let me tell you ours.”
Xiao Yuanmu looked at Song Xuanhe. 
Song Xuanhe smiled back at him and said: “It’s true that I’m not the original Song Xuanhe, but this isn’t a parallel universe either. It was me that came from a different universe.”
“The other universe is very similar to this one, from its history to the things in it. You could say that these universes are parallel worlds. There are also many things in this universe that weren’t in the other universe. The reason I came to this universe was for you.”
Song Xuanhe looked down towards Xiao Yuanmu. “In my mind, there’s a system using technology beyond our worlds. It took me from my world and brought me here. Did you know? I’ve already finished my mission here. If I wanted to, I could leave this world in three days and go back to my own world.”
Xiao Yuanmu suddenly grabbed his hand. Song Xuanhe held it back just as tightly, continuing. “I had many things in my original world.  My relatives, my friends, my mentor. You probably wondered why I suddenly began designing clothes, or maybe you became sure that I wasn’t the original Song Xuanhe because of it. Now I can tell you- it’s because I was a designer in my old world. My teacher was pretty famous in the field, he was picky with designs and with people, but he was willing to accept many different forms of beauty.”
“Even if something was damaged, or incomplete, he was able to accept them all.” Song Xuanhe smiled. “He taught me too many things. Even when my parents and friends all left me, he remained the only person who cared about me.”
Looking at the nostalgia in Song Xuanhe’s eyes, Xiao Yuanmu’s jaw clenched.
Before, when he had thought about the issue that was Song Xuanhe, he wanted to catalog everything different about this person, understand every detail hidden in his heart. This curiosity eventually turned into like, and after experiencing many things with him, like changed again into love.
He had heard once that to like someone was to want to possess them, while to love was to be able to control yourself.
But even using all of his self-control, he wasn’t able to dispel the desire to monopolize Song Xuanhe. He wanted to always be looking at him, to be with him every second of every minute. He even thought, selfishly, that if Song Xuanhe loved him back, he could use that love to tie him by his side, to make it so that they would always stay within each other’s eyes.
Yes, he knew that beneath Song Xuanhe’s careless exterior, there was actually an incredibly soft heart.
He always pretended to be unconcerned, pretended to be cold and indifferent, but as someone who was actually cold, it was easy to see through the facade. From seeing through the facade, he could also trace back into his memories and see how much of Song Xuanhe’s warmth he had received after meeting him.
He wanted to cling to this warmth, and he could also tell by this warmth that the Song Xuanhe of this life was not the Song Xuanhe from his last life, or the life before that.
But this warmth was too ethereal, and he became afraid of losing it. He always had the paranoid idea that Song Xuanhe would leave him one day. The thought always seemed  to come out of nowhere, but he couldn’t keep it out of his mind.
That’s why he was always trying to find the reason for the difference in Song Xuanhe from his previous two lives. Because he had lived many lives, his imagination for what the reason could be was more expansive than others would’ve guessed, to the point where he’d thought about the possibility of alternate universes.
He hadn’t thought that Song Xuanhe’s answer would be even stranger than what he’d imagined.
This answer was better than any future he could’ve planned for Song Xuanhe. Once he left, Song Xuanhe could return to his own world, to the route he was meant to walk. He would have a good life, a mentor that cared for him, his work, and his friends. He could leave this world and the dangers that were rising around them. Any way you looked at it, this was the perfect solution.
But Xiao Yuanmu couldn’t let go of his hand. Dr. Gao Sen told him that he had half a month left. He had planned out what he would need to do for Song Xuanhe in half a month. He had convinced himself to accept the inevitable, convinced himself that he wouldn’t be leaving behind any regrets.
This perfect answer disrupted his plans, shortened his fifteen days down to three.
His time left with Song Xuanhe was three days.
After three days, Song Xuanhe would go to a place where he had never been and could not understand. He would wait until his organs shut down, and leave the mortal plane. He and Song Xuanhe wouldn’t exist in the same world anymore, and their worlds would never overlap again.
“Xiao Yuanmu,” Song Xuanhe’s voice pulled Xiao Yuanmu back. “I’ve constantly been going back and forth about whether or not to return to my world, or to stay in this one. I always thought that I had no reason to stay. But, just in the past few days, I found my reason to stay, and I also found the reason why I came to this world.”
“You are the reason that I came to this world, and the reason that I’m staying.”
“I want you to leave,” Xiao Yuanmu said, lifting his eyes coolly. “After three days have passed, you should return to your world.”
“There’s still hope for your condition,” Song Xuanhe said. “My system is made of extremely advanced technology-”
“Do you know what Xiao Lin asked me when we met that day?” Xiao Yuanmu cut Song Xuanhe off, saying: “He asked me how I could be sure that you loved me.”
Song Xuanhe’s gaze shook as he looked at Xiao Yuanmu.
“I’ve heard before that it’s easy to die for someone, but it’s difficult to live for them.” Xiao Yuanmu looked at Song Xuanhe as he spoke. “I hope that you can return to your world, for my sake.”
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borealtwilight · 6 months
Text
solace
summary: not everyone finds it easy to wake up in the morning. it's definitely made easier with the help of a friend, though.
although at this point, is "friend" even the right term to describe one another with? characters: jerome-092, grace hendricks word count: 902 A/N: for @dancing-coyote :P
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"You have bedhead."
Jerome reaches up to pat at his curly hair, puzzled. He's surprised that's the first thing he's greeted with, when Grace stumbles into the rec room at 0900. "And you're up late." he retorts, but there's no heat to it, and he smirks at her as he slides a mug of piping hot coffee across the table to her.
Grace flips him the bird, but shoots him a grateful look as she takes a sip. "Whose fault is that?" He knows exactly how she has her coffee: straight black, nice and fresh and strong.
"Hey, I advised you to go to bed, and that Alice, Douglas, and I had it handled, but you didn't listen..." Jerome shrugs innocently, folding his arms and leaning a hip against the table. Her twin, Killian, had gone to bed an hour or even an hour and a half before she had. But Grace had insisted that she remain, that she would be fine, that she could stay and help finish planning their upcoming mission. Now she was paying for it.
Her response is to reach out and thump him in the shoulder with a fist, hard. He dances out of her reach, yelping, and one hand goes to rub the smarting area gingerly.
"Ow, that's still tender!" he chides with a shake of his head, thinking of how much it had hurt yesterday when he'd sprained it. "Dick move."
She says nothing, but her eyes dance with amusement, and her lips are twitching as she takes another swallow of coffee. He knows she doesn't mean anything by it, though, and that really, he kinda had it coming. He knows full well that Grace has a tendency to be... cranky, first thing in the morning, and it may have become an oddly endearing trait of hers, but really, he shouldn't go poking the bear.
( He doesn't think of the fact that he's probably the only one allowed to gently, teasingly provoke Grace while she's still waking up. Never really occurs to him, but it's definitely A Whole Thing that he'd never hear the end of if anyone else realizes it. )
"I'm not the only one with a severe case of bedhead, though." That smirk is back on his face, and he reaches out to coil a lock of her curly hair around a finger. "What's the term your brother likes to use... Oh yeah, you look like you've been dragged backwards through a bush." The polite way of putting it, at any rate. Killian's exact words are usually more along the lines of "your hair appears to have turned into a nest for a family of rats". "Don't worry, I'll fix it."
Grace, still sleepy, hums wordless assent, and Jerome's quick to dart off to her quarters to raid her bathroom for her hair products.
( He doesn't think about the fact that he knows what kind of supplies are needed to help get Grace's hair under control. It's just something that he'd do for another Spartan, he tells himself. Not that he's ever had the chance to; they all keep their hair shoulder length or shorter. )
"Did you at least get some sleep at all?" he asks, as he gently begins to sort out her frizzy mane.
She mumbles her answer into the mug of coffee. "Probably not much more than you did. But then you're a dirty cheat."
He allows himself a chuckle; she does make a fair point. At least it's a topic he doesn't mind making light fun of, on occasion. "I admit it, my augmented physiology renders me a dirty cheater and I can therefore run on less sleep. Still, don't come cryin' to me when you've overtaxed yourself."
"No, I'll just steal your bunk."
"I don't mind sharing."
"You're a blanket hog."
Jerome sputters. "I am not a blanket hog." As a matter of fact, he really didn't need to use blankets all that often. "I think the blanket hog is you, and you just don't want to admit it, so you pass blame to me."
Because sharing bunks is also a thing they do. It's not even something they put stock into; they just... sometimes happen to fall asleep together. Sometimes it's on purpose, though, like when they need to share quarters because they're planetside. Or when one of them can't sleep because their head is too much, and sharing a bed with your co-worker best friend battle buddy fellow soldier is reassuring: you know you're not the only one who has these nightmares, you've got someone right beside you who's been through similar shitty things, physical contact is grounding, it's fine to share space with someone you're familiar with.
It's just habit, that's all.
He doesn't need to see her face to know that Grace is sticking her tongue out at him, and he swats at her playfully. It's easy, this rhythm they've fallen into; it's become a comfort.
( Grace and Killian are really part of Red Team, at this point. They all look out for each other. They're all under Jerome's command. They're his friends, they belong to him, and he would die for any one of them, just as he knows they would give their lives willingly for him. )
( Sure, he has the tendency to spend more time with Grace than any of the others at this point, but it's mere coincidence. Happenstance, that's all. )
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