#specimen stash

[lelair]

Kou Gets Poked

Getting poked on the job was not part of Inspector Kougami's bingo card.

Source: Kanshikan Kougami Shinya, Volume 2

#サイコパス #psycho pass #漫画 #manga #kougami shinya #torii tsubasa #poke #specimen stash #kanshikan kougami shinya #photos #kou gets poked #fandom

[rainylana]

“I’m not always bad.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie finds you crying. why does he care?

warnings: bully eddie, bad boy, awkward and meanie eddie, language, crying, upset reader, talk of cancer, readers dad has cancer. a potential series if you want it, let me know!

gif is not mine!

update! part two has been posted and is located on my masterlist!

He supposed maybe over time it wouldn’t be absolutely crazy to have some sort of care for you, after all, he had known you since the both of you were in diapers in preschool together, and ever since, he’d treated you like dirt beneath his leather boots.

He was an absolute prick to you, and you couldn’t remember one memory of him being nice to you. Maybe it was because you came from a ‘white picket fence’ home, had good grades, an honor student, actually. Maybe it was because you were pretty? Maybe he liked you? No. You had long since disregarded that idea many years ago. He wouldn’t be this mean.

You walked as quickly as you could to the gymnasium, pink heels clicking with every step and turn. Your eyes blurred with tears and you hiccuped a breath. You pushed open the door, relieved no one was in there, at least, not to your knowledge, and plopped down on the closet set of bleachers to your right. You put your head in your hands and cried like a baby pathetically.

Eddie was closing up a deal when you’d come busting in dramatically. He quickly hid his stash, thinking it was a teacher as his customer quickly left the scene, muttering a thank you as he did so. When he say it was you, he cursed under his breath and put away his things.

He adjusted his jacket, putting away his weed and wallet as he watched you. He squinted his eyes. Were you crying? He’d seen you cry before, that wasn’t anything new, but you looked upset. He walked across the gym floor, adjusting his junk like a typical male specimen.

“Why the long face, L/n?” His demeaning voice boomed and echoed.

You jumped, revealing your tear stricken face. You groaned. “Fuck! I- I didn’t know anyone was in here. Sorry.” You went up to leave.

“Woah, woah,” He held up his hands. “You’re on my turf, L/n. Crying and trespassing on my property are not to go unpunished.” He tried to ignore the fact you were visibly upset, thinking maybe you got a bad grade or tripped over your own feet and embarrassed yourself. That’s usually what it was, anyways.

Today, however, you couldn’t deal with his dramatics. Your face crumbled into tears and you sobbed, slowly sinking back down to your seat and hunched back over. Eddie, despite his antics, couldn’t help but furrow his brow. He watched you for a moment, looking to see if anyone else was around he could pass you off to. He looked back at you, and when you pushed out a particular harsh sob, he knew that this time was different. Something was wrong.

Unbeknownst to him, he frowned, pursing his lips and climbed up to bleachers to sit beside you. He looked at you like you were from another planet, eyes wide and alert like you were playing a joke on him. He didn’t like this said joke.

“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, looking for the quickest way out. “Stop crying.” Way to cheer her up, buddy.

“I can’t.” You sobbed into your hands. “My life’s falling apart!”

That broke him out of his shocked state and he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, leaning back into his seat. “What happened now?”

“Just leave me alone, Eddie!” You snapped angrily, jerking your head toward him so hard he thought it was fly clean off and roll onto the floor with the rest of the disregarded basketballs. “Do you have to be such a jerk everyday of my life? Can’t you let me cry in peace just for once?” You stared at Eddie, who was startled and wide eyed, looking at you like you’d gone made.

He sighed heavily, a mask of irritation and annoyance falling over his hooded eyes. “Fine.”

He got up to leave, obeying your wish for once. You watched him get up and leave, and for some odd reason, your heart seemed to sink even further. Once again, you sank back into yourself, listening as his footsteps got further and further away.

He cursed when he got to the gymnasium door, turning back to look at your weeping figure. “Fuck.” He clenched his fist and brought it up to his teeth angrily. Why? Why did he suddenly seem to care about your distress?

He was back beside you, sighing loudly like he didn’t care. “Alright, L/n, what’s going on?”

You gave him a sharp glare, shooting him daggers. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He fired back. “But I don’t need you busting in during my deals, so you might as well get whatever it is off your chest and wipe your damn tears.” He lifted himself off the seat briefly, reaching back and grabbing his black bandana and handing it to you. You didn’t grab it, so he placed it on your lap with a huff.

It was your turn to look him strangely, like he was from another planet, a strange land you’d yet to be aware of. “You’re being weird.”

“Shut up.” He retorted. “You’ve got snot all over your face.”

You purposely rubbed your nose with his bandana, making sure to clean your face of mucus and tears. He recoiled, grossed out at the action. “Yeah, you can keep that.” He said.

He gave you a minute. Nobody said anything as you calmed down, sniffling to yourself here and there. His concern grew when he noticed the shaking of your hands. “Hey,” He said, voice deep and gruff. “What’s the matter with you?”

You looked at him sadly, shaking your head. “My dad has cancer.”

He couldn’t help it then. His whole face dropped. His jaw fell slack and his eyes widened.

“I just found out yesterday.” Your voice was full and thick with tears. “I was in math class and just had to get out before I had a public fucking breaking down like I’m doing now!” You said, angry with yourself.

“It doesn’t even make sense!” You continued. “My dad is a good man! He’s done nothing to deserve this! I don’t understand!” You cried, rambling to him at this point. He didn’t mind, he didn’t know what to say anyways.

“My whole family is just…numb. Dad’s pretending he’s not bothered by it. He’s doing everything he normally does. Mowing the grass, helping mom with the flower bed.”

You kept talking and Eddie listened, and in that moment, he felt pure sorrow and remorse, compassion and empathy for you. He listened to your words and felt his stomach sink. And you were beautiful, a random thought jostled in the middle somewhere between sorrow and empathy.

You cried to him for almost an hour. You talked about your family falling apart, but continuing on despite the downfall. The number of months the doctors had given your father to live. You talked about not being walked by him down the aisle, him not seeing his grandchildren. It was all here and there, but Eddie listened and said nothing, and after awhile, you forgot he was there and that it was Eddie.

When two o’clock rolled around, you breathed heavily and looked at your watch, then him. “You didn’t need to stay.” You were completely exhausted, mentally and physically.

“It’s alright.” It was the first thing he’d said in an entire hour. “You needed someone to talk to. I’m just being a good samaritan.”

“Still,” Your eyes were red and raw. “Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not always bad.”

You managed to smile. He didn’t.

“Well, thanks.” You said softly. “My friends don’t know yet. Nobody does. Please don’t tell?” You looked at him with round eyes that were always so full of innocence.

“I won’t say anything.” He shook his head.

You sniffled once more and nodding, standing up and fixing your white skirt. “Well, I better get back to class. Thanks for listening.”

He let you walk all the way across the room and to the door before he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at you, but both of your hearts seemed to lighten. The door clicked open loudly and shut, leaving him to himself.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bully eddie #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female character

[writingoddess1125]

Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect pt. 3

Buggy Headcanon. Buggy x Reader

⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Some Angst, Action, Pirating

Support me on Ko-Fi

<<< Previously. Part 4 >>>>

• Buggy knew being a Warlord while was a massive benefit added a new target to his back- However he would take advantage of these privileges to protect you- His Darling seamstress wife.

• Buggy with his new status made sure no one knew of you- insisting that he had claimed the island that was his home as his territory and even renaming it entirely to Blue Edge Island- Just so people didn't sniff around the spot.

• However it seemed not everyone got the memo-

• You were in the shop, finishing up the latest thing for Buggy. A wedding anniversary gift for your darling- A nice big coat for him that was white and orange, and styled similarly to his idol and former Captian Gold D Roger's. It was probably your best work yet and you were proud.

• Forced from your creative mind as you heard crashing outside. Quickly walking out confused that a light post or building had fallen you stand out in the middle of the street- Others doing the same as you. That was till an unfamiliar pirate ship could be seen and hoards of the aggressive crew yelled and began to slice through your home- Ripping through your Unprotected people like paper.

• Your eyes widening as you turned to run back into your shop and call Buggy- But you were yanked back by a rough hand, A man with a wicked grin

• The pirate snatching the gold necklace from around your neck and shoved it greedily in his pockets- Not even bothering to check the emblem on it.

• "Captian take a look at this one!" He screamed out, Easily overpowering you as he showed you off. The Captian as grimy as he crew jeered at you and ripped you from his lowly members hands and stared you down.

• "Shes pretty- Find the treasures and other fine specimens like this one! And Take her to the ship!" The man yelled, Tossing you towards other crew members and dragging you away to their ship-

• A act they would regret in time.

• Not far from your home in the East Blue Buggy was sailing- he was less then day away from the home he shared with you, planning to visit in his own way. But He had some errands to run however, mainly to stash some of their recent earnings.

• "Buggy Sir!" A Pirate ran up to the Warlord in a total panic, Buggy who was laughing down at his 'employees' working away after another well done job.

• "What What?!" He yelled, The young pirates hesitanting.

• "From the Transporter snail and a surviving resident of the area- Someone raided Blue Edge Island, a women by the name of (Y/N) and several other villagers have been reported stolen by the pirates who did this" The young pirate babbled out-

• "Blue Edge Island?- Is that the little tourist area in the East Blue?-" Mohji mumbled, remembering Buggy ordering for people to keep away from it entirely. Cabaji nodding at this-

• However what was noticed was how oddly silently Buggy was- they all silently looking at each other then at Buggy whos hands were digging into the wood railing- his eyes dark and he was grunting it teeth so hard it sounded like he was chewing sand-

• "....change course...We are heading to Blue Edge Island Now-" He said in a eerily calm voice.

• No one moved a muscle- All just staring at the Warlord who looked ready to explode.

• "I SAID NOW!" His voice roared, loudly- Everyone feeling a rush like they were being strangled in this moment as they felt true fear pour in their vain.

• "YES CAPTIAN!!" Everyone Shouted in unison before rushing off to do as told-

• You were loaded into the unfamiliar ship like cattle, you and other pretty things the Grimy pirates had ripped from your village.

• The crew members shoving a cloth in your mouth as they loaded you and the other scared villagers into the cells. You and the others bound in rope, shivering in fear.

• Feeling the rocking of the ship as the pirates sailed away from your home, after what felt like eternity a man came down- staring at all of you before opening the cell and yanking you out by force. You screaming against the restraints as he pulled you through the halls of the ship before tossing you into what you assumed was the Captian's quarters.

• The Captian staring at you with a wicked grin, fear coursing through your system as he reached forward grabbing the front of your blouse and tearing it open. You crying at this, he groaned and ripped the fabric from your lips.

• "My husband is gonna kick you as-" You started but he backhanded you quickly to shut you up.

• "Silence! You will be perfect, My perfect little bed slav-" The ship suddently rocked harshly, Him staggering as he looked around confused.

• "The hell?!" The angry man yelled as he pulled his hand away from your ruined blouse. You sat there shaking and terrified as you heard loud fighting from outside. Flinching as the doors were slammed open, fear bleeding into you as you expected the pirates from before to return-

• "B-Buggy?" You say softly, Seeing your husband standing there as he sighed in relief at seeing you tossing what seemed to be a man behind him. Rushing to you quickly and Reaching down to quickly cut away the Ropes that held you in place.

• His glove hands running over your face, Wiping the blood from your busted lip from the slap and his face worse then a storm when seeing the ripped blouse and the bruise around your neck from the necklace being ripped away.

• "Are you hurt (Y/N)!?- they didnt-" Be asked carefully, you shaking your head no which seemed to ease your husband greatly as he scooped you up in his arms with great care.

• The second you were in his arms you began to sob, Pressing your face against him as you babbled incoherently 'I was so scared' You managed to wheeze out as Buggg held you close. Rubbing his gloved hand on your back- You didn't see his face but it was twisted in pure rage then..

• Picking you up fully, Buggy carefully walked you out of the Captian's quarters they had you confined in. The other stolen villagers already safely on his ship to get treatment for their injuries.

• No one had ever seen Buggy this pissed off before- It was terrifying. The other pirates beaten within inches of their lives laying there staring at the Warlord once he returned from tucking you into his bed.

• "I-It was just a village!" The Grimy Captian manages out, wheezing through his broken ribs- Buggy scoffed at this and kicked the man square in the mouth shattering his teeth and making the man scream in agony.

• "THAT Village belongs to me- THAT part of the East Blue belongs to me-" Buggy yelled in rage, Pressing a boot into the screaming Captian.

• "and.. THAT women you tried to violate was My Wife-" Buggy said calmly, that's when everyone seemed to understand all at once. The color draining from everyone's faces drained of color.

• Buggy messed with his gloves, a new set you had just sent him and stained with the blood from your lips- he silently listened to the babbling and bloody Captian at his feet begging for his life- 'I didn't know' 'My apologies' and more sprouting from his busted lips- Buggy ignoring them as he stared at the man.

• "You ripped the necklace from her poor neck that had my Jolly Roger on it- You disrespected my Village and My Wife- However I have more important matters for now... So I won't personally rip you apart with my bare hands!" He hissed, But a wide smile that was clearly forced.

• "Set up the Firework Show-" He Said calmly as he turned to walk back to his ship. Buggy's crew seemed to immediately understand what this ment-

• The beaten crew tied to the mast of their own ship as crates of fireworks were loaded on the ship and forced away from the Big Top, Buggy's Canons aimed at the ship as he stood and watched calmly. Already hearing the screams of the other pirates begging for their lives or trying to escape- However that was a foolish thought.

• "FIRE!" Buggy roared once at a safe distance and a massive Buggy Ball was fired at the rival ship- Hitting directly as it exploded in a devastation of colors and screams.

• The Big Top crew all watching the fireworks in awe despite the carnage.

• "Why the Fireworks sir?" Galdino Looking to his Captian who had an unreadable expression on his face.

• "My Wife likes fireworks..." He said simply before dismissing himself while everyone watched the exploding ship and colorful sky-

• Down below Buggy checked on you, Seeing you were asleep wrapped around his pillows. Clearly having cried yourself out.

• Buggy sat on the corner of the bed, His hand rubbing circles on your leg as you laid there- Thinking silently to himself what he needed to do, guilt eating him alive as he stared at you.

• When you woke up you found yourself surrounded...

• By hundreds of Balloon Flowers. Different types and different sizes all scattered around you. Paired with a fresh outfit laid out perfectly on the bed. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had done this.

• You smiling as you touched a balloon sunflower so carefully placed next to you and holding it as a giggle left you-

• "So cheesy.." You whisper out softly and smile.

• Once dressed and holding one of the balloon flowers you walk up to the Main Deck, never having been on Buggys ship before the array of colors surprising you. There were also so many people- Everywhere who would stop for a moment to stare at you, Clearly surprised by your presence.

• Spotting Buggy rather quickly by his inflated size you call to the man. Who turns around red faced and comes to you immediately.

• "Get Back to Bed! You shouldnt be up walking around!" He yelled at you, However you knew this was just his pride and worry for you coming out at the same time. Waving him down to be at your eyelevel, he complies without a thought or word.

• Reaching forward you grab his face gently, giggling at the new scruff there and pull him down for a nice kiss over his lips.

• He gave a Goofy Giggle at this, as red as his nose as you smoothed your hands over his parted hair.

• "Thank you for Rescuing me Buggy Boo~" His eyes soften at this, smiling softly.

• "Anything for you Doll" He all but purred out as he peppered kisses on your cheeks and held you close making you giggle happily.

• His eyes widened however as he saw everyone staring at him with their jaws on the floor he awkwardly coughed.

• "Doll-l um let's get you back to the room okay? It's best until we get back to Blue Edge for now-" He said with the gentlest voice and had one of his hands escort you back to his quarters.

• "What are you looking at?" He growled in defense as everyone scrambled back to work.

• Alvida giggled at this point and looked at him "Whats with the Buggy Bo-"

• "SHUT UP!!"

• It soon spread like wild fire that The Infamous Warlord Buggy had a Wife that was WAY too hot for him-

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #buggy #buggy x wife reader #buggy x female reader

[queen-in-the-shadows]

Hellevator Captivation Chapter 2

Summary: Chan and his 7 crew members crash landed on Zyloren-9, otherwise known as Earth, and are trying to wire their ship to allow them to connect to a rescue group. Until they take an obsessive interest in a peer who is a little too pretty and a little too innocent. They can bring specimens back for scientific studies, right?

In other words: Chan and the others take a liking to you and decide they want to take you back with them, they just need to connect a rescue ship—and convince you to walk onto the ship without any questions.

Warnings: drinking! (all characters are of legal age); (eventual): yandere; teratophilia; noncon/dubcon; mxm; memberxmember; mmf; VIOLENCE; mentions of murder (none of the MCs die); more warnings on individual chapters. Please feel free to send an ask or message if you feel I miss any warning tags!

WC: 1962

Author's note: Sorry this is so late!!! I am 45 assignments behind and everything is due on the 2nd of December hahaha (pain) but here ya go! It's been done for a while now, I just haven't posted till now ahah

Jisung dragged you into the living room, where it looked like a few of the frat members had set up shop for smoking, and pulled you to sit between Felix and himself around the coffee table. Felix rested his head on your shoulder, talking with Chan about the next character on Genshin Impact and how it looks like Chan, while Jisung had yet to let go of your hand, and you could have sworn you saw him just looking at you from the corner of your peripheral vision.  Slowly, the rest of the boys, plus a few others, filtered in and took up a circle on the rug. Jisung and Chan had been taking turns refilling both yours and Felix’s drinks, and you were pleasantly buzzed by the time that Innie placed an empty bottle on the table, shooting his signature smile, fox eyes and all, at the surrounding group. “Let’s play a game!” As Minho placed shot glasses on the table, enough for all of you, someone suggested playing the game Paranoia, and Minho began filling them with some cheap vodka.  Someone else was passing around a blunt, but between Jisung and Felix, the boys were making sure it stayed away from you, and you saw none of them hitting it either. 

“It’s not from our stash, can’t guarantee it’s good.” You felt Felix’s breath against your neck more than heard what he said, but hummed in affirmation nonetheless. That’s fine, I still have my walk back to the campus dorms after this. You had 

Innie was the first to spin, the bottle landing on a random girl sat across from you at the coffee table. All you see is him leaning close to her ear, a smirk on his face and a blush on hers, before hearing a meek “Chan,” slip between her lips. There’s a distinct difference between before and after she says it, as though she can’t believe she just admitted to whatever it was he asked. The girl flushed red and hid her face behind her hands, and everyone started laughing at her reaction, but whatever the youngest had asked must not have concerned him much, as the man did not drink. Soon enough the game became a mix of drink or dare and paranoia, and next thing you knew it was your turn. 

You glanced around the circle, picking your desired target. Locking eyes with Chan, you chuckled and sat up on your knees, making your way over to the man and leaning into his ear, making sure not to be overheard as you uttered your next words. Perhaps you had a little too much liquid courage by this point, but you would be blind and lying if you said you didn’t find any of the SKZ Frat hot and hadn’t thought about any (and all) of them making their way into your panties– both separately and together.

You pulled back from where you leaned into his shoulder, an evil glint in your eye as you chuckled under your breath before making your way back to your designated spot between Felix and Jisung. Chan could only stare as he watched you making your way back to your seat, his eyes hopefully locked on your ass in the jeans that made it look oh so tempting; you could feel his eyes on you. As you sat down, you stared right back at him, “well? Answer or drink Channie.” You gave the man a smirk as you heard his answer.

“Yes….” He glanced at you, clenching his jaw ever-so-slightly, but the rest of his posture was relaxed. You hadn’t pissed him off, only annoyed him slightly it seemed. At this point, everyone was hanging on to the conversation, wondering just what you had asked him.

“And…? The rest?”

Chan squeezed his eyes closed, his face and ears tinged a bright pink, and sighed out his answer. “Hyunjin…” You let out a sweet giggle, covering your smile ever so slightly. “And Han.” This had you gasping, a small “oh” escaping your lips as you brought your thighs together just slightly, a shiver running through you at the light rasp in Chan’s voice. 

“Okay that’s it I want to know what about me!” Han and Hyunjin both took a shot, and Chan’s blush deepened.

“Oh easy. I asked him if he would ever consider a polyamorous relationship…” The two boys nodded, albeit looking confused as to what that had to do with them. You brought your drink to your lips, your smirk deepening before you continued as they took sips of their drinks, “and who he would bring into the relationship first.” You took a long sip of your mixed drink as both Hyunjin and Jisung sputtered, coughing as they turned from looking at you, to each other, to Chan, and back again. 

You cackled, draining your cup and standing. “I’m going to get another drink, play on and I’ll be back. Anyone need another?” Chan’s face was a deep shade of red, Hyunjin and Jisung now staring at him wide eyed and slack-jawed, with only Felix asking for another drink– sprite with some rum please– and a brownie, and you made your way to the kitchen. 

           As you made your way back to the living room, you ran into Jeongin, who told you he was going to grab some lime, salt, and tequila for some bodyshots to spice up the game. “Spicier than what I was getting started with?” You pouted, your lower lip turned down. Sure, poly relationships aren’t “that spicy” for a party game, but it opens the door to better questions! 

“Ah, ani ani ani, the questions all died down when you stepped away!” 

Ah, you mouthed, nodding and heading back so as to let the younger grab the items. As he returned, the goods secured, everyone got animated about who would be first. “Well, since you embarrassed me, it’s only fair I get a shot at revenge.” Chan pointed at you, his eyes narrowed but a smile on his face as he laughed. He walked over to you, leaned close to ear, his breath fanning over the side of your face and neck as he brushed your hair away from your shoulder. “Who is the most likely to die first in a zombie apocalypse?” Chan pulled away, smiling at you, and you burst out in a full belly laugh.

“Seriously? That’s your so-called ‘revenge’ Channie? Okay, I’ll play. Felix.” As soon as you get his name out, said male is pulling at you to sit down.

           “I want to know, and we’re doing body shots instead, and I choose you, so! Let’s go!” Felix pulled at your jacket, no patience, making you shuck it off, and licked at his thumb, tilting your head to the left with his other hand before rubbing the wetness onto your collar bone and making sure the salt stuck to the skin there. Next a lime wedge was shoved skin first into your face, “Open up, they were washed.” You did as the boy commanded, and he handed you a plastic shot glass, resulting in him receiving a confused look. “Uhm, there’s really only one place it could go, haha.” You pinned the boy with a deathglare, but placed the cup within your cleavage, trying to ignore the blush rising to your cheeks. The next thing you hear is the group counting Felix down, ‘hana, dul, set!’

Felix licked the salt from your collar bone, with you squeezing your hands into fists to hold back from shivering more than you already had. He dipped his head to wrap around the cup between your cleavage, his plump lips skimming the sides of your breasts ever so slightly, pulling a small sigh from you through your nose. Finally, Felix brought his face centimeters from your own, wrapping his lips around the lime wedge shoved between your teeth, your lips just skimming the others before he pulled back and you released the wedge from your mouth. 

This. This was Channies revenge. He had to have known the boys would want to know the question, or something, it had to have been planned! Your brain was working in overdrive, your eyes shut tight, and you were sure your face was beet red as you let out a shaky exhale. 

You’ve known these guys for a year, and yes they’re hot, but they are friends. You can’t go catching feelings or anything besides the usually flirty jokes! This was nothing, it was just a joke. Get it together. I mean, they all probably see you like a sister or friendzoned you anyways so get a grip. Aish… as much as I can tell myself this, it won't change that I’m attracted to all of them.

Within a fraction of second from Felix finishing his shot, you let out a shaky exhale and opened your eyes, flicking them from face to smirking face before meeting Felix’s eyes. “So? What was the question?” Felix was bouncing ever so slightly where he stood from the anticipation.

“Uh… ahah, Chan asked who would most likely die first in a zombie apocalypse.” You gave a sheepish chuckle, rubbing at the back of your neck before rambling off an explanation, “I chose you… mainly because I think you’d feel bad and offer to let the zombie bite you.” The rest of the guys broke out in peels of laughter, Jisung nearly falling off of his chair from how hard he laughed, and Felix was right along with them, a smile across his face and laughing as well. 

It was nearing midnight and everyone was still going pretty hard, plenty of people dancing or making out with each other lining the walls of the frat house. More people had come to join the game after Felix had done his body shot, you opting to just sit and watch the game progress, snug between Chan and Changbin, Felix cuddling across you and making sure your drink was full. 

The next thing you knew, Chan was leaning in your ear, his voice low and nearly angry, his jaw set and fist clenched tight. “I think it’s time you leave now.” 

“I— Chan did I do something? What’s wrong?” You swiveled your head, leaning back towards Changbin so as not to hit him as you did so, confusion sweeping your face. You glanced at the rest of your boys— your friends, seeing the same look taking over their faces. “I.. yeah. Okay. I’ll be going then, yeah? Uhm… Just send a message in the morning or something I suppose.”

Felix had risen off of you at this point, the same angry look on his face as all the others, and you hanged your head, grabbing the rest of your things from where you sat, and rushed to the door. Tears were stinging at the corner of your eyes, they had never treated you that way, something must have happened when you weren’t paying attention. You made the five minute trek back to your door in relative silence, keeping an eye out for your own safety since your usual escort of at least one of your friends weren’t with you. Stepping through the threshold of your dorm room, the tears started slowly, and you made your way to the shower, stripping off your clothes and turning on the hot water to wash up, wiping the few tears that managed to escape your eyes. 

Quickly going through the motions, you get out of the shower and dry your hair, dressing in a comfortable pair of sweatpants with a sweatshirt before climbing into bed and snuggling into your pillow. This will all resolve itself in the morning, it’ll be fine.

All, in fact, was not fine by morning.

Tag list: @yevene @sky-angel101 @cloudieclair @salfetkablog

Persephone's Circle: @moonlightndaydreams @channieandhisgoonsquad @thightswideforhanin @queenmea604 @bethanysnow

#poly!skz #alien stray kids #yandere stray kids #poly stray kids #poly stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader #skz ot8 #stray kids ot8 #Hellevator Captivation

[mandos-mind-trick]

The Bandana

Summary: You’re their medic. It’s your job to understand the ins and outs of their abilities in order to best treat them when they’re injured. Of course, you can also use that knowledge in other ways. 

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, teasing, oral, edging, orgasm denial, kind of public sex (it's like half a second), inaccurate medical stuff, reader and her praise kink once more, Hunter's a bit of a dom, light bondage, use of Hunter's bandana.

A/N: It's gross. It's filthy. It's Hunter. None of the medic!reader fics are really related. I know that's kind of a theme lately and I wanted to throw that out there. It's just easiest making the reader a medic, and a couple of them are ideas from a scrapped Bad Batch x medic!reader fic I was working on for a minute. You can read them as being related if you'd like, but that's not really necessary. If you need me, I'll be back in horny jail.

MASTERLIST

Hunter’s abilities are fascinating.

Not that the others’ weren’t, but Hunter’s were the most interesting from a medic’s point of view. He could sense even the most subtle changes within the human body. He could sense a change in someone’s heart by feeling the change in electrical impulses that cause the heart to beat. Even more simply, he could hear someone’s heartbeat if they’re standing close enough. Not only that, the more time he spent around someone, he could smell even the simplest changes in their body. An infection, hormone fluctuations, any sort of dysfunction he could tell almost immediately. 

It had been jarring at first, but he had assured you he didn’t purposefully try to listen in on certain things. He had gotten good at blocking most of it out. He’s very in tune with his squad, in tune enough he usually only notices when there’s something wrong. Not that there usually was, among the perfected specimens of the clones. 

That’s what led you to developing this game. 

You spend a lot of time alone on the Marauder while the boys are in the field. It was what led to you developing an experiment, which quickly became a game. 

Just how crazy can you drive Hunter with your scent? 

Your illicit relationship with the Sergeant hadn’t taken long to develop. After all, who were you to deny when such a fine specimen was offering? He had admitted to being able to smell your arousal, and as soon as your pants were around your ankles, he had buried his face in your pussy and inhaled like he’d been starved for oxygen. 

He’d stolen your panties after that brief foray in the fresher. 

That led you to this experiment. 

You started simple. You’d let yourself get aroused, then you’d leave your panties somewhere only he’d find. Under his pillow in the barracks, in his knife stash, even once dropped into his helmet while he wasn’t wearing it. 

Not long after he’d find them, you’d both disappear for a few minutes so he could fuck you into oblivion for teasing him. 

Then you got bolder. You’d slip a hand into your pants while they were away, coating your fingers in your slick before touching areas of the ship you knew he frequented. Then you started touching things of his. Pieces of his armor, his spare blacks, the wall of his bunk in their barracks, the inside of his helmet, even once bravely letting your fingers brush the hilt of his knife. 

It was less obvious than your panties, and most of the time he figured it out. It was hard on such a small ship to find ways to slip aside, to find a private moment to fuck each other’s brains out. 

You took advantage of shore leave more than anything. The others know you don’t disappear together to do a medical exam. Of course, that was the excuse if anyone ever noticed outside of the squad. It was your job to be thorough, but you don’t think GAR officials or the Kaminoans would consider Hunter’s cock in your mouth a necessary medical test. 

They would blanche at the things you do with the Bad Batch’s Sergeant behind closed doors. 

You’re excited for this shore leave, already having planned your next move to tease your Sergeant. It’s risky, and going to require perfect timing, but you’re well prepared. You’ve thought all this through perfectly. 

The barracks smell as they always do. Despite your best efforts to keep things clean, the stench still manages to linger. You wonder if all the barracks smell this bad, but you’re not about to take that chance. At least you had an excuse for being in the Batch’s barracks. 

They all disperse, going about their normal routines. You settle yourself on the couch, your normal perching spot, and begin to enact your plan. You watch Hunter, the way his body moves, his muscles shifting under his blacks as he removes each piece of armor. Your eyes trail his form from those wide shoulders to his slim waist, then further down to his thick thighs. Heat begins to pool in your stomach as you think about him and just what that body is capable of. 

You drop your gaze to your pack as he turns to look at you, obviously beginning to sense the change in your body. You’re starting to get wet, thighs pressing together for friction as you pretend to go through your med kit.

Hunter leaves to take a shower, and you make your move while the others are distracted. You slip your hand into your panties, gathering some slick on your fingers before grabbing one of Hunter’s spare bandanas. You make sure to rub your fingers all over it, trading it out for the old one sitting on his bunk. It’s not that unusual for you to grab their dirty clothes to add to your bag of things you need to wash. 

None of them blink twice as you toss his old bandana onto the pile. You sink back onto the couch, continuing to go through your med kit like nothing had just happened. 

“We’re gonna get some food, you coming?” Wrecker asks, breaking the comfortable quiet of the barracks. 

“I’ll meet you there. I need to put in an order for some supplies.” You say, sending a wink his way. 

“Right.” Crosshair drolls, lips lifting in a smirk. “Have fun with that.” 

Wrecker looks between you utterly confused as Crosshair practically drags him from the barracks. Tech follows, electing to ignore your exchange with his face buried in his datapad. 

You really do need to get some more supplies. You get up, moving to the crates stacked next to the big windows. It’s dark and raining outside, as it usually is on Kamino. It’s silent in the barracks, the unnerving quiet making the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. 

A body presses into you from behind, pinning you against the glass window. It hadn’t taken him long to discover your little gift. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game mesh’la.” He growls in your ear, voice low and rough. You can feel the hard bulge of his cock against your ass. 

“I don’t hear any complaining.” You gasp, his hands grabbing yours, tugging your wrists behind your back. 

A smooth cord wraps around them, one of Tech’s spare cables he had lying around. You tug at the knot, secure but not too tight. He turns you around, pushing you towards the table. He bends you over it, pressing your top half flat against it. You bite your lip, anxious for what he’s going to do next. 

He tugs your pants down around your ankles, exposing your underwear to him. He can see the wet spot, the fabric sticking to your pussy from how wet it is. He groans quietly, the scent of your arousal hitting him like a wall. 

He presses his nose against your underwear, breathing in the scent of your arousal. “So sweet.” He groans, lapping at the fabric. 

You moan, more and more arousal pooling in your stomach, soaking your panties. He nips at you through the fabric, drawing a louder moan from your lips. 

“Quiet.” He commands. “We don’t want anyone to hear you.” 

You bite your lip harder, trying to keep the volume down as he moves your panties to the side, dragging his nose through your folds. His tongue follows, tracing a line from your clit to your hole. You let out another moan, hips jerking at the feel of his warm tongue on you. 

He tsks, standing back up. “Can’t do what you’re told? Here, let me help you.” 

He grabs your jaw, prying your mouth open. He balls up a familiar red fabric in his hands before stuffing it in your mouth. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by the fabric of his bandana. 

“Maybe that will help you be quiet.” He says, kneeling back down between your legs. 

He slips his fingers under the gusset of your panties, pulling them taught against your pussy. He drags them through your wetness a couple times before tugging them down your legs. He tosses them towards his bunk, the sound of them hitting the floor audible in the quiet barracks. Your cheeks heat up at the knowledge that you’re that turned on by him. 

And he’s barely touched you. 

His hands grip your thighs, tugging your legs apart until you’re on your toes to keep steady. His hands move to your ass, using his thumbs to part your lips. You can feel his gaze on your dripping pussy, your hips shifting in his hold in anticipation. 

His tongue is warm as it prods at your hole, ignoring your clit entirely. You whine in betrayal, pulling at your restraints as he presses his tongue into your pussy. You moan at the feeling of him, his tongue tasting you directly from the source. He moans against your pussy, slurping at your wetness as it spills from you onto his tongue. 

You can’t cum like this alone. You know it and he knows it. He’s doing it on purpose, revenge for all of the times you’ve teased him in the worst way possible. You whine, trying to press your hips back against his face but he holds you still. He’s not going to relent, not until you’re desperate.

You whine his name from behind the bandana, inaudible from the fabric. He ignores you, continuing to eat your pussy like a man starved. You squeeze around his tongue, trying to seek any extra sensation you can. You’re so close. One tiny touch to your clit would send you over the edge, but he’s not going to give you that.

Not yet. 

He pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips. He stands up, pressing his hips against your ass. His blacks are rough against your skin, and you can feel how hard he is through the fabric. He leans his body over yours, dragging his hips against your pussy. 

“Think you can tease me like that?” He growls in your ear. “Spreading your scent over everything. Drives me crazy.” 

You sob behind his bandana, trying to grind against him, against the table, anything for some relief, but he’s keeping you pinned with his body. 

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you. You want to cum, huh?” He moves his head so he can see your face. “Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

You nod, trying to plead with him, but only muffled sounds come out. 

“What’s that?” He tilts his head. “I can’t seem to understand you. Guess you don’t think you deserve it.” 

You let out a cry as he moves off of you, kneeling back between your thighs. Tears gather in your eyes as he swirls his tongue around your pussy before slipping it back inside. You clamp down desperately against his tongue, seeking out any sort of relief for the ache in your pussy. 

You’re soaked, coating his face as he continues to fuck you with his tongue. Your legs are shaking with the effort of holding yourself up, tears sliding down your cheeks as you moan and cry through the bandana. 

Hunter pulls away from your pussy, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “You’re a good girl. Always such a good girl for me, even if you are a tease.” 

You make a quiet noise, the table starting to get wet under your face from sweat and your tears. 

“That was a good one, spreading your scent on my bandana. I’m going to remember that.” He kisses closer to your pussy. “You’re such a smart little thing. Always so good for me. I’ll let you cum, just for that.” 

You practically sob with relief, his tongue pushing into your pussy once more. The rough pad of his thumb brushes your clit, sending you hurtling over the edge. Your legs shake, back arching into him as you soak his face, his tongue lapping up every last bit of your cum. He works you through your orgasm, licking up every last bit of your cum. 

He releases the cord around your wrists with a flick of his fingers as he stands to remove his bandana from your mouth. He eases you onto your back, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Always so good for me.” He says, stroking your face lovingly. 

You practically purr under his touch, leaning into his hands. “Only for you.” 

His eyes darken a bit, the very obvious bulge in his pants pressed up against your pussy. “Think you can take me before the others get back?” 

You nod, using every bit of energy you have to lift your feet onto the edge of the table, spreading yourself out for him. “Easily, Sergeant.” 

You only hope the others take their time getting their dinner. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi, @mxkyrie, @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013, @padawancat97, @bamfahsoka, @rain-on-kamino, @annoyinglylegendarygoose

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #tbb hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #the dark side fic #x reader

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 29: Oliver's Welcome

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: captivity, mind control

Oliver stood in Lord Alexander's foyer, trembling like a leaf, holding his box of worldly possessions. The only thing preventing him from keeling over entirely was Miss Lily's ingrained conditioning to not resist and to be a good thrall. Fainting would be neither of these. He wanted to make a good impression. He was getting dangerously lightheaded regardless.

"Okay, you look like you need to sit down. You've been through a lot," said Lord Alexander. Oliver was washed with relief that at least his new master was treating him with mercy as he was whisked through a door into a darkened room.

A gas lamp flickered to life, revealing a startlingly ordinary kitchen. It was spotless, as though it were hardly used. There was an icebox and a stove with a bright metal kettle, and a knife block and a basket of fruit on the counter. A couple of white linen towels were hanging near the double sink. Lord Alexander led him to a small round table with a few wooden chairs, and sat him down. 

Oliver felt as if he shouldn't be so surprised. Lord Alexander would have to have a kitchen, after all, to feed a human thrall such as himself. But when he entered a vampire's mansion, he hadn't expected a completely mundane kitchen to be the first thing he encountered past the foyer.

"Here. Drink." Lord Alexander set a tall glass of water in front of him and sat down himself. "Try and compose yourself, if you can. I realize this isn't the best situation for you, but I assure you I'm not going to harm you."

Oliver nodded weakly, grateful for any reassurance, as he gulped down water. The fear was still strong, but at least Lord Alexander wasn't being cruel to him. "Thank you very much, sir."

"No trouble," he said. "This kitchen is more or less yours. I expect you to prepare your own food and to clean up after yourself. I can and will procure any groceries you need and alter the milkman's delivery schedule to fit your tastes. I don't intend to otherwise concern myself with what you eat as long as you do it."

"Yes, sir," he said, the most relieved he'd been since arriving. The implications in what Lord Alexander was telling him weren't lost on him. If the kitchen was his, he likely wouldn't be chained up or confined to a single room. Having free reign over what he cooked and ate implied a certain amount of autonomy. If Lord Alexander intended to leave him to his own devices much of the time... he took a deep breath and relaxed, just a little.

He looked up, and Lord Alexander's eyes were examining him as though he were a specimen on a slide, and the strange mixture of nerves and rapture that he'd experienced at the auction house washed over him. He was in a vampire's house, at a vampire's mercy. He gulped more water.

"If you're feeling more composed, I could show you to your room next."

Oliver took a deep breath. "Yes, sir, I would like to see it." Based on the rest of the house so far, he knew intellectually that it was likely to be an ordinary bedroom, but his head still swam with the worst possibilities. A dank and filthy cell in the basement like in pulp horror novels, crawling with rats... He pushed it out of his mind, standing up and taking his box. He was being irrational.

Lord Alexander led him out of the kitchen and up the stairs, picking up a lamp in the foyer and carrying it with him. At the very least, Oliver thought, he wasn't being stashed in the basement. They walked down a short hallway with blue wallpaper in a suffocating floral pattern and arrived at a door.

The first impression Oliver had of the bedroom was that it was enormous. It contained the largest bed he'd ever seen, done up in fine linens with at least a dozen assorted pillows, and there was still more than ample room left over. There were bookshelves, these only partially filled, as well as an imposing oak wardrobe in the corner and a few sets of drawers. An overstuffed, comfortable looking leather chair sat in the corner, with a matching ottoman. Surprisingly, there was also a wide window, albeit with thick velvet curtains blocking his view.

"Well? Is this acceptable?"

Oliver couldn't say no even if he wanted to, couldn't penetrate the fog in his mind to beg to be returned back to his cozy tiny bedroom with his pile of knitted blankets and lumpy armchair and the half-finished book on his nightstand. But barring the possibility of going home, this was more than acceptable. "Yes, sir, very much so."

"There's basic clothes in the wardrobe and drawers, both suitable for going out and for staying in," Lord Alexander explained (and oh, he was going to be allowed out sometimes, thank goodness). "If you have any needs, anything at all -- clothing, entertainment, education, supplies for hobbies and artistic pursuits -- let me know and I'll procure them for you. Money is little object. We will be living together, and I do not wish for you to be bored or miserable."

Oliver set his box on top of one of the dressers, and sat down on the edge of the bed. It was pleasantly soft and inviting beneath him. "That's very generous, sir," he said, his head swimming, overwhelmed with conflicting feelings about his new situation.

If it had been awful, if he'd been confined to a dungeon or chained to a wall, that might have made it easier, in a perverse way. He'd have every incentive to resist. Being trapped in a gilded cage like this... it reminded him of how Miss Lily had conditioned him. It was easier, he supposed, to trap a mind with pleasure than with fear and pain. If his life here was tolerable, good, even...

Maybe he really was well suited to being a vampire's thrall.

He felt the slip in his mind, another barrier crumbling. He'd lose himself for sure, staying here.  He knew it in his bones, and yet, there was so little he could do about it. He couldn't exactly ask Lord Alexander to treat him worse.

He thought once more of the myth of the lotus eaters, and shuddered.

"While I hope that you'll generally keep your room neat, there is a housekeeper who visits several times a week. He'll also handle laundry." Alexander looked uncomfortable, as though discussing laundry logistics were a way to distract from the awkward atmosphere.

"Is the housekeeper also a thrall, sir?" Oliver asked, feeling a pang as he realized what he'd said. Also a thrall.

"No, he's a fledgling vampire who can use the money. You're the only thrall here."

"I see, sir," he said quietly, looking at his feet, then back up at Lord Alexander. "Then I'll be the only one providing -- I mean, that is to say -- "

"Your blood?"

The atmosphere shifted. Alexander was still standing nonchalantly in the bedroom door, but Oliver could feel his eyes growing more intense, his own thoughts clouding in response. "Yes, my blood, sir."

"Well, yes. I will be drinking your blood on a regular basis. Not tonight, as you need a chance to settle, but... soon, yes."

Cold fear warred with strange desire within Oliver. Now that it was almost upon him, he couldn't help but quail at the idea of fangs sliding into his neck, drinking from him. But the way Lord Alexander was looking at him with sharp eyes and talking to him in a low, soothing voice... like he could listen all day... listen and obey... provide him with anything he desired...

They were alone, all alone in a vast mansion. There was no one to stop Alexander from taking what he wanted. Oliver shuddered at the thought, and it wasn't completely from fear this time.

"Why me, sir?" he said, trying to collect his thoughts and snap out of it a bit. "Why did you warn me, but then ultimately buy me?" It was one of the questions that had been burning in his mind ever since the auction.

"I bought you because I couldn't stand any other vampire, especially a vampire I hated, getting their hands on you. You would have been tortured and then destroyed if Jameson purchased you. Almost anything is better than that." said Lord Alexander. The shift in conversation topics lessened the weight of his gaze upon Oliver. "And as for the warning... I'm sorry, but it wasn't as altruistic as you might be thinking. I'm not sure you would like the answer."

"I want to know, sir."

"...Because I wanted you myself, but I wasn't prepared to take you," Lord Alexander admitted. "And sending you through the auction house risked your mind being stolen, not to mention the risk that you'd be bought by someone else. I was hoping you wouldn't end up there, that you'd remain in your little bookshop until... circumstances permitted."

"You... wanted me...?" said Oliver. "Even before?"

"Yes."

Oliver thought of Lord Alexander in his shop, leaning over the counter and asking questions about rare and interesting books. The entire time, he'd been... "What makes me worth all of that?"

"Your blood. But not only that. It's... many of your qualities," he said. "It's not something I expect a human to fully understand. But suffice to say that I doubt I'll regret what I paid."

Oliver swallowed hard, hands twisting in the bedcovers. That didn't explain anything, really. Why? He'd gone his entire life without being especially wanted. Oh, it wasn't as though he were despised or abused, but he had never been anyone's first choice, with no close friends and no romantic prospects. And now, he was wanted for this of all things, qualities he couldn't even define, appealing only to vampires. 

And what circumstances did Lord Alexander speak of? What was he concealing?

"We should finish up the little tour. Come on," said Lord Alexander, disappearing from the doorway, Oliver following.

"This will be your personal bathroom. Again, if there are particular toiletries needed, just request them. It's no trouble." He pushed the door open to show Oliver, and this time he was not surprised it was extravagant and well kept. There was a large bathtub with a shower, a pile of thick towels, and a basket of fancy soaps and other products he didn't recognize.

"The rest of the second floor consists mainly of extra guest rooms and a few storerooms for books. There is a sitting room down the second hallway that you might enjoy," said Lord Alexander. "My chambers are on the third floor, and that is off limits to you at this time. Otherwise, you may occupy and use whatever parts of the house you wish."

"Thank you, sir." The forbidden third floor was the first real restriction Oliver had been given so far, but he was pleased that he was being allowed mostly free reign of the house. That produced a burning question, one he'd wanted to ask but had been nervous about asking. "Sir, ah, may I ask -- what about leaving the house? Not to escape, of course!" he hastily clarified. "Nothing like that, sir! To get fresh air or visit a shop, for instance."

Lord Alexander was examining him carefully. "Not without my permission, and you do not have my permission yet."

Oliver's brows furrowed at his tone, something in him rising up and attempting to assert itself before drowning back under the waves of no desire to resist, only obey.

"Do you have something to say?" asked Lord Alexander.

He swallowed it. "No, sir."

"None of that. You're not going to be punished for speaking your mind. Say what you're going to say."

Oliver looked up. Well, if he explicitly wasn't being disobedient... "Well, sir... don't you find this strange? I'm a grown man, you knew me, you patronized my bookshop for years, and now you're telling me I'm not allowed to even go outside?" He clamped down his mouth as soon as he said it, fearful, flinching away from Lord Alexander. 

Lord Alexander didn't seem the least bit perturbed. "Yes, I'm not surprised that's what you're thinking. I'm not upset at you for saying so," he said. "But you should understand that I've kept thralls for decades. You're not the first and you won't be the last. Yes, I believe in treating humans well. I even enjoy human company, to a certain extent. But I'm a vampire lord, you are my thrall, and it is my right to impose what restrictions I may.  Is that clear?"

He felt fear all over again. Lord Alexander might very well be more merciful than some of the other vampires who could have bought him, but he was still a vampire, and Oliver was still trapped. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but there was something sad in Lord Alexander's eyes. 

"I do understand, you know. It must chafe to not be allowed outside. But there's already a target on my back, and there will be a target on yours as well, if there isn't already -- thanks to the very public showing I had to make at the auction house. I don't make rules solely to be cruel or tyrannical." He pushed his hand through his hair. "When I'm not awake, feel free to open the windows and doors to get fresh air and sunshine, at least."

"I will, sir," he said.

"I hope... I hope you can find some happiness here despite it all. It would be good to..." He swallowed hard and looked away. "Let's continue on."

Part 28 >> Masterlist >> Part 30

Extra: Fitz's Waking Nightmare

I very much enjoyed writing the descriptions of Alexander's mansion.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs

#whump #vampire #whump writing #writing #mind control #whumpee #vampire whumper #captivity #rare bookseller #oliver #alexander

[notquitecanon]

Stardust & Fungi // Egon Spengler x reader

Me, breaking my writers block with shittily written fluff about a ghostbuster? More likely than you think]

Warnings: none other than this is top ten worst things I've ever written lol

"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" Egon asked, not glancing up from his microscope as he jotted down his observations. If it was still the days of stolen glances and supposedly unrequited feelings, or even in the early days of your relationship, you would have blushed at being caught, averted your eyes and found something to occupy yourself with. Though those days were cherished in their own right, they were in the past.

So, at his accusation you just smiled lazily over at him, chin propped in your hand, offering a challenge, "Do I need a reason?"

The scientist thought for a second, carefully adjusting the focus on the microscope, "I don't suppose so, though typically I can deduce what I'm doing to garner such attention. Right now I can't find anything of note."

You snorted a laugh, shaking your head as you closed your book- as if his entire existence hadn't been 'of note' to you since you met him, "Well, I just happen to think my boyfriend looks very cute when he's analyzing fungus blooms."

You knew your teasing found it's mark when his usual precise movement jerked, throwing the fine adjustment knob completely out of focus. Egon spared you a flustered glance before he fervently fixed the focus again, ducking his head back to the ocular piece to hide the flush creeping up his neck.

Slowly, like a cat after a nap, stretching lazily you rose from your perch, your very own, lovingly assigned lab stool. The stool was a small seemingly meaningless gesture from Egon that if you knew the scientist, had several layers of subtext. To start with, it was the only surface in the lab that was safe from the good doctor's 'organized' chaos. This particular still had a back and cushion, appearing ~randomly~ the day after you had complained of a sore back. It always had an extra lab coat, discarded sweater, or sports coat hanging on the back since you often complained the lab was too cold. Typically, the stool was parked next to his super top secret snack stash that was classified information to everyone in the firehouse. And while others were allowed to sit on your stool, the moment you entered the lab Egon would wordlessly shoo them away or stare at them until they caught the hint- Peter liked to test these limits just to mess with him. The stool was how the other ghostbusters knew how Egon really felt about you.

When it came to Egon, it was all in the details, and you had become fluent in reading between the lines.

"Cute isn't the word choice that I would go with," The scientist muttered after changing the specimen again with you slowly moving to hover behind him.

"So sorry, you're right, my boyfriend looks very handsome when he's analyzing..." You trailed off for a second, squinting to read the cursive label soon the slide, "Ganoderma Gibbsom."

He spared a glance over his shoulder, the faintest blush still in his cheeks as he leaned back ever so slightly so the curve of his back was flush to your front, "Excellent pronunciation."

"I've had a pretty good teacher." You hummed at the praise, pressing a kiss to the shoulder of his lab coat and then one to his jawline, internally preening at how he leaned into the contact. Egon chuckled- your favorite sound amplified by how the sound vibrated through his chest and into your skin- before tilting his head so his lips could catch yours briefly. You smiled against his kiss, "How's your fungus, honey?"

"It's preparing to reproduce." He informed you, motioning the microscope towards you- both to share his interest and to have a moment to wipe your lipstick off his lips. He leaned sideways so you could scoot forwards and press an eye to the ocular piece. You squinted against the bright light and observed for a moment.

It was, in fact, fungus. Just fungus to you, and it looked exactly what fungus should look like- fungussy like. But, if it was interesting to Egon, so it was interesting to you. You watched the specimens wiggle a bit before relinquishing the microscope back to the scientist.

"Getting real hot and heavy in there," You joked, pressing one last kiss to the top of his head, "Should I leave you two alone?"

Egon rolled his eyes but his famous sideways smile crept up as his gaze followed you back to your stool, "You're no better than Venkman."

"I'm a little better than Venkman." You retorted with a faux sense of offense, hand to your chest though your grin was cheeky. Egon hummed as he jotted something down, so you flicked a discarded straw wrapper at him, giggling when he only offered you a withering look.

"You love me." You 'reminded' him, taking you assigned seat and parking it across his work bench so you could be closer to him. Peeking over his microscope at you, his gaze softened as he nodded curtly.

"I do." Egon's voice was soft and sincere- some might say even out of character but you knew that tone was reserved just for you. His admission earned him another smile as you took your book back out.

The lab fell back into comfortable silence, just the two of you enjoying the other's presence as you each worked on your own hobby. Or, at least, Egon worked on his. You couldn't get past the the page you had opened to- not for lack of interest, earlier Winston had gotten through an entire conversation before he realized you were nose deep in your book, and still took five minutes to get your attention, and certainly not for lack of trying, you'd read the first six lines easily fifteen times. By line four your mind would start wandering, by line five you'd be stealing glances at the scientist across from you, and by line six and seven your brain would discard everything you just read in favor of daydreaming.

About twenty minutes passed and you were only able to turn the page once. You did however manage to steal at least seventeen dreamy glances at Egon, mentally decorate your future shared apartment, plan your honeymoon, and a hundred other little things. Between thoughts of the future, there was also reminiscing. How you met, late nights in the lab, the long and awkward pining phase, patching him up after busts, your first kiss, all the times you'd made him laugh...

"What are you thinking about?" Egon asked, looking up from his notes. That was one of the things you loved about him, despite being the smartest guy in any room, he always wanted to know what was going on in your head. His voice snapped you out of your own mind, this time you did blush.

"Oh, not much, just reading." You shrugged after clearing your throat, holding your book up with a little shake as if to say- see?

"You're average reading rate is 300-350 words per minute, yet you've only turned the page once since you opened the book again, suggesting your mind is preoccupied with something else." He explained. How could you forget just how observant the scientist was, of course he would notice your distraction. You sighed.

"You're going to think I'm crazy." You laughed a bit, knowing even you thought you were a little crazy. Egon simply arched a single eyebrow over his glasses, as if to say, 'try me.'

"Should I remind you that we're still excavating marshmallow goo out of all our gear from the 100 foot staypuft marshmallow man?" He asked sarcastically, pushing the microscope aside to give you his undivided attention. You breathed a short laugh- how could you forget? Ray still complained about Ecto1's permanently stick back seat.

You met Egon's dark eyes, his oh-so-always-serious face, his large calloused hands folded in front of him as he waited for you to explain. Leaning forward, you traced a single but gentle nail over one of the small scars that decorated his left hand, product of lab work gone wrong, you had been the one to bandage it.

"I know you don't believe in the idea, but..." You trailed off, folding your hands into his. As always, his hands, large and warm, gentle despite the roughness of working, encompassed yours completely. Like they were made for you and you alone, "I didn't until I met you. I think, if soulmates are real, then you must be mine."

After you said it, you closed your eyes, expecting his to spare a laugh or have some scientific lecture to disprove your rather sappy theory. You had no doubt Egon loved you, he proved it in little ways everyday, but he was still a man of science through and through. He didn't believe in luck, superstitions, destiny, or fate. When he didn't immediately rebuff you, you peeked your eyes back open to find the scientist deep in thought.

His brow was furrowed like It did when he was trying to figure something out, usually you loved that look, loved watching how his brain worked, but now it made you a little nervous. Your relationship with Egon hadn't followed any of the typical time markers or milestones of normal relationships- but maybe it was too early to droop the 'we were made for each other' on him. Or maybe, he just didn't agree.

"Many scientists believe that the carbon that makes us up is billions of years old, even trillions. Remnants of supernovas and dying stars, and it was this stardust that drifted for lightyears before eventually being composed into planets, flora, fauna, and eventually humans. Using that notion, one could hypothesize that perhaps our idea off soulmates could be reduced to two individuals sharing carbon of the same origin, finding its way back to itself over and over again in the carbon cycle despite all odds," Egon thought aloud, staring at your interlocked hands before lifting his gaze to your eyes, "Perhaps, that could explain our immediate attraction, how we play to each other, gravitate towards the other... carbon matter, stardust, soulmates, perhaps could be all the same thing."

You were stunned to silence, picking through the scientific jargon absorbing perhaps the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you, but Egon wasn't finished.

"And whole I can't definitively prove or disprove this theory, I... savor the idea of us being soulmates. Very few other things in the world make as much sense to me as that." His admission was quiet, though it echoed around your head for a while all you could do was stare back at him with tears threatening to prick the the corners of your eyes, "So, in summary, no, I don't think you're crazy, (Y/N)."

Blinking your tears away, you forced a chuckle through a suddenly tight throat, squeezing his hands before lifting them so you could press a sweet kiss to his knuckles.

"That was the sweetest, most romantic science lesson I've ever heard, Egon," You whispered, feelings running crazy but offering a grin nonetheless.

"I concur, though I think in most relationships such heartfelt confessions are punctuated by more than just a kiss to the hand." Egon theorized, arching another brow at you. You laughed, roughly wiping a happy tear away as you nodded.

You pretended to think about it fore a moment before reaching into the drawer nearest you where you knew your quarry laid. With a smirk, you slid the worn out 'maid service Do-not-disturb' door sign across the table to him.

"I think you might be right, Dr. Spengler."

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler imagines #dr. spengler x reader #ghostbusters x reader #Egon x reader #I am sad again and I know that bc im writing self indulgent fan fiction again laugh out loud

[ask-cyantist]

*slides over a chocolate cake* Nice to meet you, Cyan! And the crew!

[Cyan quickly stashes the tasty treat under a glass beaker large enough to serve as a temporary cloche, hoping this will prevent sticky fingers.]

"...I think I'll save this dessert for later, after I eat a real dinner. That's- kind of you. Thank you, stranger."

[Cyan seems quite pleased as you depart from the specimen lab and greet the rest of MIRA staff.]

[The rest of MIRA's top floor crew greet you in return!]

Black: "A pleasure- welcome to MIRA's research floor."

Green: "Did- did they come out of specimen lab?"

Yellow: "Come by whenever you like!!"

~~~~

[Cyan's crew on MIRA's top floor are now also open for questions!]

#Among Us #Among Us Cyan #Among Us Black #Among Us Green #Among Us Yellow #Among Us Red #Among Us Purple #sapphireclawe #questions to the crew will be allowed within reason- this is still primarily Cyan's story xD

[whereiknit]

Trinigan done! It’s a variegated specimen as I stash busted some beautiful vegetable dyed Aran that I had from Loch Ness Knitting for the main colour and used three different stashed arans that I found for the contrast colours. Then the front and collar rib had to be finished in some very beautiful Spring Vale Aran from Mothy & the Squid. Finished it during a zoom session this morning. Just got ends to weave in later. This is my wrap up warm knit for cold days sitting at the laptop in meetings for hours.

#trinigan #dreareneeknits #knitting #knitblr #knitters of tumblr #hand knitted #knittersgonnaknit #mothyandthesquid #Loch ness knitting

[sonicasura]

I think the funniest thing about Bendy being adopted by a character from a different franchise is the potential reactions. BATDR already established the Dancing Devil to have two alternate forms i.e Baby Bendy and Ink Demon(true form). No one will expect something small n cute to actually be a 10 ft tall bony terrifying devil.

There is already gonna be shenanigans considering our inky fellow is from a 30s cartoon who now lives in modern era. Or the fact he been living inside a perpetual dystopia with even littler exposure to things from that era. The Ink Demon just stare at his caretaker playing LoZ Tears of the Kingdom, probably get addicted to Minecraft and ask what the hell is a meme or Uber.

I cannot forget the potential reactions from other people who find out about Bendy. Characters that have experience with demons like Devil May Cry's Dante would definitely raise a brow. Extra points if the caretaker is human.

Dante: Okay so you went into cult run cartoon studio and adopted a ink devil made after the titular character of said cartoon. Kudos for the heartfelt insane decision. Hope it turns out well.

You can also delve into the scientific side with a series like Generator Rex. Everything unnatural in the show is the result of rogue technology i.e nanites in this situation. Nothing magic like Bendy as there's various occult rituals found all throughout Batim and Batdr.

Rex: An actual demon based on a cartoon character instead of an EVO that became ink. I guess anything can happen at this point. Good luck in caring for him.

Last example I'll give is from an extraterrestrial point of view. Otherworldly visitors would most likely be split in half on what can be considered normal for Earth and completely impossible. Someone such as Transformers' Jazz be on the normal side while Shockwave will view it an impossibility.

Jazz: Humans can take actual demons into their care? This planet just gets even more interesting by the klik.

Shockwave: Life forged from magic? Impossible just as it is foolish for a helpless organic to raise such a creature like they belong in a family unit(family). Purely illogical to let a unique specimen stay in unsuited hands.

Hey not all of it will be positive. There's gonna be dangerous religious nuts, mad scientists, and other hostile nuts that won't like such an arrangement. Although neither Bendy or his caretaker will take it lying down.

Especially considering the Ink Demon can practically go Beast by fusing with someone. I am actually curious if the form's appearance could be affected by the species of the person. Definitely stash that thought for later.

What do you guys think?

#sonicasura #bendy #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #batim #batdr #bendy the dancing demon #ink demon #mentioned fandoms #devil may cry #devil may cry series #dmc #dmc series #generator rex #gen rex #maccadam #transformers #transformers series #tf #tf series #back on my bullshit

[lelair]

Ethyl Alcohol (70% Solution)

Every time I open volume 3, this eye still haunts me...

I should have left that weird stain alone.

#サイコパス #psycho pass #kougami shinya #漫画 #マンガ #manga #manga and stuff #big brain moment #never use ethyl alcohol on manga #specimen stash #silently screaming #kanshikan kougami shinya #photos #ethyl alcohol (70% solution) #fandom

[obscure-entity]

i know i have ppl in the inbox who deserve to be responded to (soon i am so so sorry) but if u want to give me something fun to do over the coming weeks can you guys send me plant specimens (photo or name it doesnt matter).... flowers, cacti, trees, foliage etc. they all count. ive found that i want to continue building my stash of plant critters

#text

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien's Lyric Poetry Event Translation (Day 7-9)

⚠️  SPOILER ALERT  ⚠️

This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the event that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lyric Poetry Free SSR Event | Prologue+Day 1-3 | Day 4-6 | Day 7-9 | Day 10-12 | Day 13 (Ice Flowers Date)

Translation under the cut!

✧ [Day 7] ✧

When Lucien arrives home, the moonlight is already spilling onto the windowsill, forming something akin to white clear pond.

MC: You've been working hard overtime. Have you encountered any difficult research problems?

Lucien: While there is indeed a difficult problem, it's not directly related to the project.

Lucien: It just took some extra time to solve.

As he speaks, Lucien takes out a small, delicate gift box from his arms.

Curiously, I unwrap the packaging, and a handful of cotton clouds dyed in shades of crimson and orange greets my eyes.

Lucien: When I left the Bioultima Research Institute today, I could already see stratocumulus clouds forming on the distant horizon.

Lucien: I want to share it with you, but unfortunately, I can't make it into a specimen.

Lucien: However, on the way home, I remembered seeing various glass artworks that mimic clouds.

Lucien: Although it doesn't quite fit the definition of 'specimen,' I still hope you can loosen the standards a bit and include this 'treasure' in our scope of collection.

Lucien’s note: Besides through photographs, sunset can be shared in many other ways.

✂———————–

✧ [Day 8] ✧

I can't help but smile as I look at Lucien's Moments on the screen.

Lucien's post: Making preserved fruit specimens turned out to be a tad trickier than expected, but the results are also slightly better than imagined.

MC: Now I kinda regret picking the biggest and prettiest loquat... Every time I look at them, I just can't help but crave them.

Lucien replied to MC: How about this, besides bringing back the specimens, I'll grab an extra bag of loquats on my way back too.

Lately, whenever we’re fruit shopping, those loquats at the stalls keep stealing my attention. Figured since it's spring and all, it's the perfect time for munching on loquats. So, we grabbed a bag to take them home.

The unanimously delicious and sweet fruit earned our seal of approval, and it got me thinking about turning them into specimens.

I heard the sound of keys being inserted into the lock at the door, and I smiled as I went to greet him.

Lucien carefully carries a glass jar in one hand and true to his word, he holds a bag of juicy loquats in the other.

MC: Thanks for helping out with making the specimens and bringing the fruit home, Professor Lucien~

I take the bag from him and don't forget to tiptoe and gently plant a kiss on his cheek as a "reward."

Lucien: Making preserved specimens in the lab is safer as many reagents aren't suitable for home storage.

MC: Hmm? Come to think of it, do you have any reagents secretly stashed away at home?

MC: Just like in movies or TV shows, the mysterious scientist’s home has its own hidden secrets~

Lucien: Well, shouldn't this classmate who helped me clean up the house last week know the answer to that question the best?

(there's none, because, besides he doesn't hide any secret from her, as he said, they're too dangerous to be put at home)

Lucien’s note: I heard that you can also add loquats to pear soup and stew them together. Maybe we could make this the topic of our next kitchen experiment?

✂———————–

✧ [Day 9] ✧

When I went out this morning, Lucien told me he'd be back later than usual, so I didn't have to wait for him.

The twilight sets in, and just as I'm about to send a message reminding him not to forget to eat, an email pops up.

[Desire to Share]

From: Lucien To: MC Date: March 6, 2024 (Wednesday) 22:58

Although I can’t come back on time today, I've asked someone to bring you the bits of my life that I want to preserve today.

Remember to sign for it.

[T/N: you can write a reply to his email!]

After waiting for a little, I received a document envelope.

The unfamiliar chart was carefully laminated and stored in a bag, with a note attached by Lucien.

"Today, there are several particularly beautiful flow cytometry results. Let's commemorate some of them as today's memory."

MC: This person is really...

I couldn't help but chuckle as I looked at the chart in my hand, my mind filled with images of Lucien, slightly worn out from intense work but with eyes shining brightly.

I open my phone and send him a reply. "Don't forget to rest in between creating those charts! And make sure to eat on time!"

Lucien’s note: Although there are still certain issues with the experiment itself and many parameters that need adjustment, this chart is indeed very good.

[Trivia: Annexin V-FITC is a flow cytometry reagent used for detecting apoptotic cells programmed cell death. Annexin V-FITC is utilized in flow cytometry in clinical settings for detecting apoptosis in various cells, including lymphocytes, for radiation toxicity assessment. It is utilized in cancer research and treatment for various purposes, which kinda makes me wonder if it has something to do with his cancer in the main story :"D]

✂———————–

#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

[mareenavee]

WIP Whenever~

Good Wednesday, my friends! I had no idea what day it was until Winter posted lol. I love that. <3

I was tagged to do this by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter, @nuwanders and @ladytanithia! I tag the most esteemed @paraparadigm, @polypolymorph, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @elfinismsarts, @gilgamish, @kookaburra1701, @snippetsrus, @saltymaplesyrup, @dirty-bosmer, @orfeoarte, @archangelsunited, @inquisition-dragonborn, @tallmatcha, @rainpebble3 and YOU. Yes. If your tag is invisible, I still did tag you, so feel free to tag me back (: I'd love to see what you come up with!

Below the cut for some UNTITLED WIP stuff! This is a prompt fill for a prompt challenge I've got going with a handful of mutuals. This one will be for Para when I'm done.

More Ondolemar (and Varlais) this time. The story is fic-universe canon and occurs before A Heavy Truth, sometime early on in The World on Our Shoulders.

CW: Implied accident involving the Jarl of Markarth's pets.

Below the cut!

“Don’t touch anything, Varlais,” Ondolemar hissed. The fool had got himself chased into the ruins by the Jarl’s dogs and, of course, he had to be pulled from the rubble, so to speak. There was nothing else for it. Though, of course, Mother would have words about this situation – none of them good. The dogs were, at the moment, nowhere to be found. It was tough to say if Varlais had run through Nimhe’s chamber with them close behind on purpose. He’d come away with only a mild poisoning and a few new scars to add to his immense collection. The dogs… Well, he didn’t have to put two and two together and upset himself again.

Varlais had kept his hand on the Dwemer metal plate anyway and was doubled over between two pipes. The loud exhale of steam from a nearby vent blessedly muted the sound of his illness. Ondolemar didn’t have anything on hand to help with that, so he’d just have to suffer until it passed. He himself had only barely managed to kill the wretched spider, only narrowly escaping a similar fate. It had been hours before he’d been able to discover where Varlais had stashed himself away, and longer still to Heal him. They were thoroughly lost in the depths of Nchuand-Zel, his absolute favorite place on all of Nirn. And the Falmer – everywhere! Like vermin. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.

Varlais was looking sorrier by the second. Had they not both fallen through a rusted grate and between all this metalwork, they’d have a clue of where they’d ended up. Calcemo’s expedition team had mapped this place up through a certain point, before the Falmer attacks, the deaths and then, of course, the resulting need to seal off the inner chambers. Leave it to the nitwit to burst through locked doors. If only his magic worked reliably for other, more important tasks. There was no longer a way to tell how far down they were.

“Ondolemar, I’m going to die here,” Varlais complained. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. True, he was pale, the gilding almost gone from him in his misery. But it was just frostbite spider venom – and only a single bite, now healed. The pain and nausea would be a bit much, come to think of it. It’d been a while since he’d had to deal with the poison. And it had been a much smaller specimen.

“You’ll be fine,” Ondolemar said. He walked over with a Calm spell in hand. “Let go for a second.” Varlais obliged and closed his eyes, breathing as steadily as he could through flared nostrils. Ondolemar rolled his eyes. He sighed and passed the spell over the back of Varlais’s head and down over his shoulders. It wasn’t taking quite as easily, hackles up as they were at the moment. It took some doing – and more Magicka than he’d have otherwise wasted – until the spell settled into the crevices of Varlais’s mind. His shoulders relaxed; his jaw unclenched. He still looked like hell. Ondolemar almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“We have to find – ” Varlais started, pausing to turn away and retch. He sighed and steadied himself on Ondolemar’s forearm. “We have to find a way out of here.” 

“No kidding,” Ondolemar said through gritted teeth, perhaps more icy than he had originally intended. He rolled his sore shoulder where he’d landed hard on the stonework. He’d need a real healer whenever they managed to get out of this place. They both would.

Varlais dragged himself along behind Ondolemar as they moved through the crumbling stonework, littered now and again with sharp fragments from the damaged grates above their heads. Acid from the pollution of the city above had seeped into this ruin through the cracks over untold centuries and ate away at the metalwork. Pipes had broken, machines had seized up. It reflected the state of things topside, really. Apt he was caught in this place like a fly in a web. Every waking hour already felt like that, and this was no better. He frowned in dismay. At least it wasn’t cold down here. Thank Mara for small miracles.

They walked through great gates of jagged filigree, bent and warped with age, hanging precariously off hinges green with patina. The corridor opened into a wide, dimly lit area, the stench of fungus and mold wafting over from somewhere deep in the darkness. Along the way, Ondolemar had taken out a few more Falmer with Shock magic. He was no good with a bow, and Varlais was hardly in any condition to aim, let alone keep from drawing attention to themselves. This place seemed to be far flung even from the hive located in these ruins. The sound of gears echoed through the chamber, which was cut through with flowing water, contaminated by slicks of oil and the putrescent miasma of rot – likely bodies of Falmer or chaurus, or worse. There would be no point in thinking about it. He pulled the edge of his silk undershirt up from under his standard issue robes to settle it over his nose and tried to concentrate on anything else at all.

The lighting was rather odd the further they walked into the dimness. A green-blue glow emanated from what appeared to be rather large mushrooms, which seemed almost purposefully cultivated, towering and casting odd half-lit shadows across mountains of rubble as far as the eye could see. Which, admittedly, was not very far. Ondolemar’s attention shifted as Varlais stumbled behind him leaning into one such pile; the action sent a cascade of ceramic tile and other debris crashing down toward them. Without thinking twice, he yanked his friend out of the way just in time. Varlais coughed as thousands of years worth of dust choked the air.

“Do try to be less of an idiot,” Ondolemar sighed.

#MareenaWrites #WIP Whenever #WIP Wednesday #Untitled Varlais and Ondolemar Nonsense #Varlais #Linare Varlais #Ondolemar #skyrim #skyrim fic #tes #tesblr #fanficblr #writblr #writeblr #The World on Our Shoulders #Dragonborn and Far-Star Marked

[trudemaethien]

Tell us about the 17 is a serious criminal WIP?

this is a side-story from the kih’ad series offshoot of the noncon au, that happened in the very early days of Kamino.

Seventeen is a 10 standard-year-old-equivalent, and he is a Good Soldier, but unfortunately the same traits that will make him the best special operations soldier in the whole GAR when he’s grown, could get him into serious trouble now as a cadet.

He hears intel and he analyzes it, and he plans and executes a covert mission.

The intel: a project is being streamlined, and Seventeen has a burning need to know what it’s about before it disappears. Even in the few years he’s been boots on deck Seventeen unfortunately already has experience with what streamlining means. It happened to the Nulls, most of the 90’s batch too, and the gestational process for the main units has been streamlined since the beginning. When Seventeen infiltrates the special project laboratory, he decides on the spot that it is important enough to try to salvage as much of this classified material as he can before it gets discarded.

He’s not big enough or fast enough to relocate all of the classified material, so he grabs the nearest and smallest couple units, and spends the next couple hours stashed in a closet while he furiously hacks into records to hide his crimes weirdly pale stolen cadets amongst the general population. It’s feasible; these ones are the right shape, not deformed…for the most part.

Seventeen doesn’t see any of them again until years later.

(Rex was little enough that he doesn’t remember his experimental designation, but Seventeen does, and he is therefore quietly amused at the name he chose having a similar sound to Ksi, the High Galactic symbol he’d been labelled with. Yes, Omega was from the same experiment. No Seventeen didn’t grab her. Nala Se was allowed to keep one specimen).

#ask answered #fanfiction #wip title game #wip title tag game #rex 7567 #alpha 17 #ncok #trans clones #trans rex

[jellymellydraws]

Masterlist ~ <<Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter >>

Astarion x Dark Urge Chapter 10 Rating: E Tags: Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, two guarded people fall in love so hard it makes them stupid

Chapter Summary:

Gale had spent some time studying the tadpole they got from the Grove, but his talk on its potential benefits gets snuffed out by Lae'zel. Rose needs to confront the gith about her reactions to any tadpole talk around camp. The party makes camp outside the blighted village, strategize next steps for the goblins, then take a much needed bath in the river. Privately, Rose investigates some scars she discovered over the last few days.

“I’ve been thinking—”

“I didn’t think you could stop,” Shadowheart giggled with a smirk.

“Like you’d die if you stopped, really,” Astarion added, a smirk highlighting his own tone.

Gale had been preparing breakfast, as he usually did. But before this very usual morning, he had an unusual several nights of camp where he turned a bottle in his hand. The tadpole within it wriggled, desperate to connect through the glass of its prison. Even when Rose had asked him to turn in early, he was adamant about studying the parasite which plagued them. She wondered when they would hear the excited ramblings of a wizard who made a discovery.

Maybe this was the morning.

“Ha ha, not so smart to tease the one holding the food,” Gale mocked, both plates meant for them being held out of reach. Alfira and Wyll joined the breakfast circle, who were chuckling when custody of the meals were awarded to them.

“Come on,” the high elf scoffed, “it was just a joke.”

“I don’t hear him laughing,” Rose yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eye.

Astarion clicked his tongue and put on his signature pout. One of many masks she became familiar with. Maybe they’ll stumble on a bag of holding so he could stash them all in one place.

Either out of pity or because he was well-humored, Gale extended a plate to Astarion. One she promptly swiped with a smirk.

“How dare you—“

“It’s just a joke,” Rose sat down with her plate of food.

“You cheeky pup.”

“Ugh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes, “Gale keep the plate. If these two are going to start flirting this early, I’m better off without an appetite.”

“Feeling jealous?” Astarion playfully slinked an arm around her shoulders, earning a scoff from the cleric.

“Hardly.”

“Anyway,” Gale gave the elf his plate at last, “as I was trying to say earlier, I was studying the tadpole specimen we got from the grove. After what we witnessed the other day, I did some experimenting!”

Yes! She knew it! Time for an informative brief from Gale of Waterdeep. Today’s topic: the tadpole. 

“We know that our tadpoles are modified, but we don’t know why or how. An oddity on its own, but then we also have witnessed — first hand, might I add— that we not only connect to each other through these tadpoles, but also with anyone that has this brand of the ‘Absolute!’”

They already knew that. Well, Rose knew that. It was pretty obvious the day they ran into those siblings on the road. When they called her a True Soul, when Sazza changed her tune and became subservient. She quickly glanced at the others to read their expressions. Most of it was expected: Wyll and Shadowheart listening respectfully, Alfira looking up with her big doe eyes in admiration, Lae’zel also giving Gale the attention she found him worthy of (the fact he was worthy was high praise on its own), and Astarion looking bored out of his mind as he pushed food across his plate. Considering how intensely some were taking in the information, it was clear that most of the others came to a similar understanding. Gale was verifying what they already knew, which was better than him debunking it entirely. A small victory, she told herself.

“It begs the question, what more can these tadpoles do?” Gale paused to take a few bites from his plate. For someone who was eager to share his theories, why would he give pause now? Astarion, she noticed, had stopped playing with his food and stared up with interest. By the way the wizard grinned, it must’ve been what he hoped for, “Illithids don’t use magic from the weave the way that we do, they are in another league of ability known as Psionics.”

“Is that more or less powerful than the weave?” Astarion asked.

“Ah, that’s—”

“Does it matter?” Lae’zel hissed, setting aside her emptied plate.

“Well, yes,” the elf answered matter-of-factly, “if it’s more powerful, maybe we should consider tapping into these psionics that our wizard friend is talking about.”

“I haven’t finished—” 

“We cannot trust anything that came from ghaik, any further use of them is only going to turn us faster!”  

No matter the attempt, Gale could not regain control of his morning announcement.

Rose adjusted in her seat. Lae’zel might’ve gotten friendlier with the group, but the tadpole situation was still a sore spot. She felt her plate lighten in her hand, and was relieved to see Shadowheart was willing to hold her plate if she had to intervene. Gods she hoped it wouldn’t come to that, first thing in the morning.

“Hmmm but there hasn’t been a tentacle in sight,” Astarion continued while waving a forkful of food. He pointed it directly at the gith to punctuate his next point, “maybe this Absolute Goddess has something to do with that?”

“So you would risk it?!”

“Why not?! While I don’t particularly mind the little pest, there are some strengths that I think it’s taken from me. If it has something to offer, why not accept?”

“I see you like to flash a pretty smile to pretty faces— how effective do you think that would be once your teeth begin rotting out of your maw? When that hair, which you spend precious hours to style—“

“It doesn’t take hours.”

“It won’t take any time once it melts off your head.”

Lae’zel made her point.

Gale couldn’t find it within himself to continue the topic after that. Another conversation about their tadpoles snuffed out before it could really begin. Shadowheart leaned towards Rose’s ear as she returned the plate. Rose glared at the cleric.

“Don’t.” She whispered, warningly. Shadowheart leaned away without a word, but kept that judgemental face about her.

While they were breaking down camp, Rose approached Lae’zel. It was hardly the private counsel she wanted to have, but the conversation was overdue.

“Lae’zel,” Rose stopped in front of the perfectly packed tent, “this needs to stop.”

The gith glared up at her as she hoisted the bag onto her back.

“I thought you stronger than to let your infatuation cloud your judgement,” she accused, leaning close to Rose’s face.

The assassin stood firm, arms crossed and expression unwaveringly. Tone, even and calm.

“And I thought you stronger than to lose your temper so over a simple question.”

“You’re right, I am stronger. Perhaps I’m wasting time here when I should be looking for my kin.”

“Then why haven’t you done that? You’ve had plenty of chances to leave our little camp and go off on your own. But you don’t.”

Lae’zel snarled. There it was again, that temper. She made a great warrior, for sure, but one mentio of their peril and she unravels. Rose narrowed her eyes. The tadpole wriggled, connecting briefly to the one in front of her. It didn’t take much prodding to feel the anger, but somewhere beneath it she could sense something else…

“You’re afraid,” Rose realized, flatly.

“Never.”

She sighed through her nose, taking a measured step back from the gith.

“Lae’zel, if you want nothing to do with the tadpoles, that’s your business—“

“It is all—“

“Let me finish!”

The whole camp was watching them by now, it became uncomfortably clear. Rose shot a glare at the crowd, who quickly turned away and tried to look busy with literally anything else. They failed miserably with the charade.

“We need each other. If some of us want to pursue the tadpole’s potential, that is our business.” She lifted a hand to stop the gith from interrupting, again, “if any of us start to turn, you’ll be within your right to kill us. On the spot.”

She watched her expression closely. Though her words were fully sincere, she knew it was still a longshot for Lae’zel to believe them. But something must have landed true, because the gith relaxed her stance. Not her face, but that was a harder ask.

“The reason I haven’t worried about our predicament is because I trust you enough to handle it if we start to lose ourselves.”

“If that were true, why do you insist on entertaining the foolish thought of embracing it?”

“Because it’s clear that we’re not dealing with a regular mindflayer parasite— you even acknowledge as much. And if the goblins are benefitting from psionics, then we need to be able to counter them. I’m trying to consider all the options available to us. I can’t do that if you shut down every conversation that you disagree with.”

Lae’zel ‘chk’ed in response, tearing her eyes away from Rose in favor of the ground.

“Fine. I’ll hold my tongue…as long as I still have one.”

Alfira refused to let the awkward silence follow their travel. The casual strumming of her lute was a nice touch, even if it wasn’t appreciated by everyone. Particularly Astarion, who loudly protested the start of her musical march. It didn’t seem to bother the bard, who gracefully pranced to the back of the line as she played. If it wasn’t for the violin on his back, Rose would forget that he ever played an instrument. 

The quiet Artiste stalked to the front of the marching order. Gale was continuing to plead his case for the tadpole’s potential when an arm draped around Rose’s shoulder.

“What’s say you,” Astarion asked in his oh-so charming tone, “these tadpoles could prove useful, why not take advantage of their power?”

Gale looked like he would protest to the interruption, but he looked just as interested in Rose’s answer as the elf. She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I’m not going to dismiss it so quickly,” she admitted.

“I knew I liked you.”

“But we’d be fools to dive in before we understand the consequences,” she eyed both the wizard and their mischievous friend, “it could be about as useful as a cursed trinket.”

“Ugh, now you’re ruining it. Go back to agreeing with me.”

“No,” she playfully rolled her shoulder, letting his arm fall off her.

The sun hung low in the sky, challenging them to travel through the night unless they found a place to camp soon. The lute strumming had nearly stopped. Now only a chord played every few steps, but softly at the back of the line. Astarion was beginning to whine, Lae’zel was ready to end his suffering (and hers).

When the trees opened before them, they were met with the glorious sight of a bridge leading to the gates of a village. The sound of flowing water graced their ears, inviting them to draw nearer. Without crossing the bridge itself, they stared at the village entrance. There was little movement at the gate, not even guards. but what she could see were the broken carts and motionless bodies littering the path in front of them.

Goblins were there, alright. As expected, no survivors. She could only imagine the state that village would be in once they entered.

“This is it,” Rose sighed with the exhaustion of a day’s travel, “the temple should be just past this village.”

“Might be best to call it a night,” Wyll added with a hand clasping on her shoulder.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’d be able to take on a whole village of goblins,” Alfira agreed with a soft strum.

“Let’s scout the area and find a spot for camp,” she commanded the group with a small smile, “preferably one near the water.”

Seeking a campsite by the water somehow managed to be an unreasonable request. But not impossible. There was a spot downhill from the village and right by the river, perfect for them to set up for the night. Maybe longer, depending on what they decide. The trick would depend on if the goblins ever left the village for their water, or if their source was opposite of their direction.

For the goblins’ sake, it better be as far from the campsite as possible.

The command tent was built around a pile of large, flat stones, large enough to spread the map out. Shadowheart cast a series of lights to illuminate the tent. It was more cramped around than it would have been with a regular table, but they don’t really get that luxury when traveling light.

Rose twisted the charcoal stick between her fingers as she stared at their plans. Lae’zel, Wyll, and Shadowheart were closest to the map, either pointing at locations or creating marks on their personal travel maps.

“The temple is a walk away, we should ambush it in the cover of night,” Lae’zel insisted, trailing a nail from the village to the temple on the map.

“I want to know what we would be walking into first,” Rose’s brows furrowed while scanning the map for potential options, “Escape routes, enemies— how big is this horde actually ? Who’s leading them?” She directed the questions to the whole tent. When no one answered, she continued, “we were under the impression that they’re working with Drow— but Sazza talked about a Goblin Priestess as her commander…”

“We’re going to trust what a goblin says?” Shadowheart questions with repulsion, “She could be lying.”

“Exactly. We need more information before we go in. If Sazza double-crosses us, we need to be prepared. No surprises.”

“We shouldn’t have any trouble walking right in. Why don’t we just do that?” Astarion casually suggested, leaning against the ‘table’ as he flipped his dagger in boredom.

The whole tent focused on Astarion, who was just now realizing that he was, in fact, the center of attention. Although, maybe it was not quite the kind of attention he was hoping for. Lae’zel opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. Thinking better of it, from the looks of it. Rose crossed her arms, looking at the elf who didn’t seem to be paying attention to most of their conversation.

“Elaborate,” she commanded.

“Um…” he stammered, holding the blade still as he looked between their companions and their leader, “well they seem to think we have some sort of ranking above them, so…oh I don’t know? We tell them we’re True Souls and that sorts it out?” He waved his hand casually at the grimaces thrown his way, “don’t look at me like that, Rose is the details person here!”

Chaos broke out within the tent as arguments about tadpoles and goblins took over their whole meeting.

Kill the guards.

Go around the village.

Monitor the camp.

Tap into the tadpoles (somehow).

Rose pondered any idea she could catch, and stared at the map calculating each move. Kill the guards? Well, they’d need to know which ones were the guards. Go around the village? Reasonable. But they didn’t know if there were any patrols that would give them trouble along the way. Monitor the camp? First they needed to get to the camp…hence the other ideas.

On top of that, they didn’t know when their luck with the tadpole would run out. But based on what they knew at this point, they had time. She had to believe they had time.

Okay…so where does that leave them?

Using night was not a bad idea, but they would need to be wise about it. The temple was a straight shot if cutting through the village, but there had to be other routes. Three of the pebbles bunched over their campsite were pushed towards the temple marker. She stood back and eyed the divided pebbles which made up their party. Next to the temple she quickly scribbled ‘Sazza???’

Where was she? The storm would have slowed her down, but they were only half a day behind. 

Another dark line was dragged from the village towards the grove, concluding that if the goblins were going after the grove, they would’ve run into their forces over the last few days.

Their information wasn’t going to get them much further. Not without proper reconnaissance.

Gods, she hated surprises.

“Listen up!” Rose clapped her hands together, reigning in the chaos.

Good thing she did, since it had escalated dramatically. Alfira had retreated to a safe corner of the tent, protected by Wyll who was between everyone else and Lae’zel. The gith was snarling in Astarion’s face, who met her with a balanced expression of a glare and smirk.

Wonderful…

“Lae’zel,” she began, tapping a spot on the map, “find a clear path to the temple. Use the cover of night to hide from potential patrols. Wyll, go with her for backup. Establish multiple routes and a good place to set up a scouting post so we can keep eyes on it during the day. We have more than enough people to cover watches while you are gone. We can sort out finer details after we get your report in the morning.”

“See? I knew she’d come up with a plan,” Astarion slinked away from the face-off, “now are we done? I’d like to take advantage of our riverside camp and get the muck and grime washed off.”

She waved him off, adjourning their entire meeting. Wyll and Lae’zel stayed behind to talk more about this scouting plan with Rose.

It was fascinating what could be learned by a simple wash schedule. Lae’zel didn’t care if she was joined by anyone or not. Expected. Most of the others preferred privacy, which worked out perfectly when they learned that Alfira was the only one who had soap in their pack. Astarion had disappeared after he left the command tent, but hadn’t returned. Honestly, he looked to be the type to take long baths, so it wasn’t too questionable.

By the time it was Rose’s turn to bathe, the soap had shrunk to less than half its size. Alfira smiled apologetically, as if she was to blame. 

“Unless you used all that soap yourself, you don’t need to apologize,” she assured the tiefling before walking to the riverside.

She maintainted regular steps until she was certain that she was out of view. Then it was a sprint to the river. She shoved the end of her torch into the mud, kneeling by the riverbank as she peeled her top off and tossed it behind her. The firelight bounced off the water, giving her enough reflection to investigate. Shaky fingers traced disfigured lines that marked her front.

During their night in the owlbear cave, she first discovered them. It was a routine check for injuries, but none had been found. Instead, she felt them. Cuts that had long healed, but too precise in their trajectories to be from battles. She refused to let anyone look her over until she could make sense of them. And tonight, she could.

Finally, in the firelight, with the river to act as her mirror, she saw them. Clean. Precise. Surgical. Scars that healed over incisions. Her stomach twisted as she looked at them. Heart racing. There was something terribly wrong about these marks.

Her breathing quickened, trying to remember. Begging herself to remember.

What happened to me?

Tracing along a line down the center of her chest. Her fingers curled, mimicking the act of peeling flesh back. Flashes of red crossed her mind. Drumming in her ears.

No, focus. I need to focus, damn it.

She took a shaky breath, stilling her racing thoughts. Okay. She could do this. With a gulp, she looked back to herself. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, sweat covering her brow. But she was in control. Full control.

An incision down her chest. The urge to open it up. Suddenly her chest tightened, as if she could feel her own ribs cracking. Somehow she could tell this would’ve been a cut made to get in her chest. Was it her heart? Had there been something wrong with it, once?

At the base of her ribcage, the line forked into two paths above her stomach area. She concentrated on her breathing, allowing herself again to follow her muscle memory. Curling of fingers, desiring to pull back the cut flesh. Her other hand moved downwards. To…her organs? Which ones? She couldn’t figure out those details.

The other was much the same. A long, precise scar stretching down her stomach. Another place to give access to some of her vital innards.

She wondered if she had done these to herself, or someone she trusted? Some of the cuts overlapped with each other, signifying that she had been cut open at different points in time, partially healed, then had been cut open again.

Another bunch of questions she needed answers to. She reached for her pack when she heard the rustling nearby. Instintively, she pulled out a dagger and threw it in the direction of the sound. It thunked into a tree, and the rustling stopped. Rose scrambled to her feet, pulling her shirt back over her head.

“Show yourself!”

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