#basils writing

[sageandscorpiongrass]

Loving You is Easy: On Love.

i love to be a lover <3

Jenny Slate, twitter | A Self-portrait in Letters, Anne Sexton | Bloom Into You, Sayaka Saeki | Kiss Goodnight, IDKHOW | Rêve d’Été, Shanna Van Maurik | You, Carol Ann Duffy | @\chenchenwrites on twitter | No One Belongs Here More Than You, Miranda July | Emily Dickinson, in a letter to Mary Bowels | What Love Will Do To You, Laufey | Pink Starry Flower Field, Jessica Hamilton | I Had a Dream About You, Richard Siken | Sunstone, Octavio Paz (tr. by Eliot Weinberger) | @/brozyglow on tumblr | Poem of the Mountain, Marina Tsvetaeva | Tranquility, Brian McCarthy | I Am a Grand, Living, Buzzing Thing, Emma Bleker | Sophie, The Altogether | When You Ask Me Where I'm Going, Jasmine Kaur | Virginia Woolf, in a letter to Vita Sackville-West | @/lilith-of-stardust on tumblr

[Image ID in alt text!]

#poetry #web weaving #prose #web weaving poetry #literature #parallels #web weave #on love #love poem #perhaps i should wait to post this but ah well! ive finally managed to work up the spoons to write ids! that will not be wasted! #༺✿ web weaves by basil ✿༻

[basilpaste]

"It wouldn't feel right to... do this without giving us both some time, I think."

〔Sif looks away from you.〕

"But!" You stumble over the word, "Um! Later doesn't mean never!!"

〔You clumsily reach for one of your earrings and take it off. Even when you sleep, you wear studs. It feels kind of strange to go without!〕

〔You're not sure why you picked up the chain in the House. But... it gives you the chance to do this.〕

〔You hook it through one of the chain links and carefully slip on the back.〕

"So... until we're both ready. Until we know for sure! How about a promise?"

"A promise?" Sif echoes.

〔With all the caution in the world, you slip the chain around Sif's neck. They don't flinch. And... neither do you.〕

"A promise to come back to it eventually. We have time."

〔You do have time! Real, moving, twisting time! To think about things!!〕

〔Sif clutches the earring around his neck and smiles shakily.〕

"A promise."

#in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #isat #isat spoilers #isat fanart #in stars and time fanart #siffrin isat #isabeau isat #of stitches in sequence #basil paints #basil writes #ive realized that i dont. think these actually count as edits. i stole the background in the first one from the game. #but everything else is kinda 100% me? #so like. technically isabeau wouldnt have taken off his earrings until this moment. but from a spriting standpoint? #having a bunch of sprites with both earrings and then some with one and then some without them is just kinda a pain??? #so his portraits are all missing the earrings.

[sweetestbasil]

RUBATOSIS || chapter one: self digestion

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

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

WORD COUNT : 13, 776

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

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

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

Dr. Gaul has just the solution for him.

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

[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ]

self digestion || autolysis - stage one of decomposition 

Oh, he hated this. 

He absolutely despised this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coriolanus sucked in a careful breath between his teeth. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crease in her eyes showed again. 

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

Well, now it was his turn to laugh. 

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

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

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

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

What was the point of this conversation?

“Tigris.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t say that just yet.” 

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

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

PROJECT: CAPTIVE – A.01 PROMETHEUS 

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

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

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

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

 So this was a human experimentation, Coriolanus deduced. 

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

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

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

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

A silence fell upon them both. 

“Understood, I’m right behind you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Personally, I outdid myself.”

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

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

“Curiosity eating away at you, Coryo?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted to focus on something else. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sloppy work here, Dr. Gaul. 

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

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

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

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

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

He had been noticed by it. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning, Subject A01, I am–”

…? 

Did they say something? 

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

Another tense silence fell in the air. 

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

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

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

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

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

And they gave up their old name?

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s this bottle over here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Do you have family, Dr. Snow?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

Oh, now that’s… 

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

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

“Alright. I’m done.”

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

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

Words trailed off for him. 

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

“...Dr. Snow, are you okay?”

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

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

The subject nodded, a yes from their lips. 

Good. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dr. Gaul is my caretaker, I think.” 

Well isn’t that something unique. 

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

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

“Do your best for me.” 

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

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

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

Coriolanus loathed them. 

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

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

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

“You don’t bother me.” 

Now, that felt deliberate. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He marked down the region of the knee. Patella. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t help but ask. 

He wanted to know. He needed to know. 

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

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

Coriolanus didn’t say those words. 

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

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

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

“Her tests,” 

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

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

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

“Writing?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The subject shook its head. 

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

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

…

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

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

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

A form of dissociative amnesia. 

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

“I vaguely do,” 

His eyebrows rose in interest. 

“But only in subtle feelings.” 

Nevermind. 

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

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

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

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

Tigris certainly didn’t anymore. 

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

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

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

Already, he wanted to break them.

“Show me where to inject you.” 

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

He was going to mold them into something useful.

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

[elenamegan14]

Yandere One Piece - Irish/Nordic Fae Folk Myth X F!Reader - Pookah!Luffy

PROLOGUE Pookah - a mischievous yet friendly fae, capable of shapeshifting into any form as they please - malevolent ones included. Legends have told that anyone lucky or unlucky enough to get a ride from Pookah will experience the wildest travel of their lives. 

—

You barely have the time to calm yourself when the Pookah circles you around like a wolf waiting for its prey to move. You’ve been here for a few minutes and already you encountered a fairy folk! Fortunately, luck seemed to be on your side - Pookahs are not relatively dangerous unless you treat them with care. 

However, Pookah’s personality is proven to be quite a challenge,  considering this one has the childish personality of a hyperactive boy, drunk with too many candies. Also, he seems to be the talkative type too, jumping around whenever you tried to side-stepped him. 

“A human! Sweet! Haven’t seen a human for a while! I mean, on my side anyway. My brothers saw humans all the time because they got permission for it, but I don’t!” The Pookah grumbled, “They said that I need to practice more on my human transformation, but I think it’s perfect!” He gestured towards himself, forgetting about his longish furry ears and tail. 

“I… see. That’s very nice, but I have to go.” 

Frustratingly, Luffy seems to follow you around, not giving you a moment of rest. It did not help that he had no sense of personal space, always coming in inches close to you - a new toy that he had never seen. 

“By the way, my name is Luffy! What’s yours?” 

You are about to instinctively answer but a particular warning from your parents hit you on the head. An iron-clad superstition rules that any good children must follow to survive Grand Line if they happened to stumble upon it. 

Never tell them your real name, Y/N. That’s how they control you - words have more power in the fairy world than in the human world. 

Frowning, you turned your head away from Luffy, “You don’t need to know.” 

“Aw, you’re no fun! What am I supposed to call you then? Seaweed? Meat-girl? Oh! I can call you… ‘Wet Blankie’! Because, you know-” 

“Alright, I got it! Call me any way you like but you’ll never find out what my name is!” You boldly asserted, keeping to yourself that you can endure the humiliation of being weirdly dubbed for now. 

“Fine!” Luffy stuck his tongue out, “...wet blankie.” he added the last part with a laugh, earning him a scowl. 

Hurriedly, you walked at a faster pace, hoping to leave the Pookah to his ministrations 

“So, whatcha doing here? Are you going somewhere?” “No, I’m lost! I don’t know where I am, what time is it…” You trailed mournfully, “I even started to lose my way around this place.” 

“Oh well, Grand Line can be a maze sometimes. Heck, even my friend, Zoro got lost here plenty of times… and he’s a native!”

A certain name from Luffy’s speech puts you into a standstill horror, “Grand Line? As in… THE Grand Line? I’m here in THAT Grand Line?” 

“Dang, no need to say three times. But yeah, you’re in Grand Line! You’ll love it! There are so many fun places here - there are so many interesting things happening around here-” 

A shudder of panic courses through your body, “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not supposed to be here! My parents told me to stay away from this place! That’s where the fairy folks live, I’ve heard stories of what they’ll do to humans! I have to get out of here!” 

Unbeknownst to you, Luffy studied you a little more carefully than the first time he met you. As if he can sense something beyond your appearance. 

“That’s… an interesting way to put it,” Luffy droned, “Somehow, you felt different than other humans who fell here.” “You mean there are other humans besides me here?” “Great!” You raised your hands exasperatedly, “I’m lost in this god-forsaken forest,  I can’t find my classmates, and I’m supposed to be home right now! But I’m stuck here! This sucks!” You sobbed

“If you like to… I can give you a ride,” Luffy smiled gently, “I know my way around Grand Line, I can take you to the entrance.” You gasped indignantly at his idiocy, “Are you mad? I can’t trust fairies - that’s the third most important rule that everybody knows!” Luffy’s eyebrows raised in confusion, “Really? Then what’s the second one? I mean, you did tell me the first rule is-” 

“-not to reveal my real name to a fairy, I KNOW. You KNOW,” You repeated the rule as if you were schooling a first grader, “The second rule is not to eat and drink anything that the fairies offer.” 

“What?!” Luffy jumped in horror, “That’s a terrible rule! You can't do that! Everybody has to eat! Who made that? This is the first time I’ve ever heard it!” 

You rolled your eyes in irritation, “Not if you’re a human. They’ll be bound to the fairy world forever if they eat anything in here, and I still want to go home.” 

“Not if I can ask the bigwigs to change it!” An optimistic grin burst from Luffy’s face, “I mean, I managed to change a few rules after causing some trouble from time to time again. Which reminds me - I need to hide from my grandpa - he is so pissed off after I destroyed the palace’s garden the other day.” 

“You do that while I’m searching for any entrances here,” you murmured, slipping by Luffy.

“Alright, suit yourself!” Luffy shrugged nonchalantly. 

Time passed, and you still need to find an entrance. You felt as if the forest was keen on making you even more lost on your path - each shrub seemed to change, pebbles moving out of your marked gaze, not giving you the slightest hope of any exit. What makes matters worse is that you estimated that the sun will set soon. The risk of falling under the clutches of the fairy folk increases with each second you have wasted. 

Just as you circled anguishedly around the rock for the fourth time, Luffy popped back again, keeping his irritating grin at your hopeless attempt. “You know, I still can help-”

“Oh, alright!” You snapped, realizing that it’s futile to rely on your own… for now, “But be warned - I have ways to kill you if you break your promise. Got it?” 

“Sure thing! I can still take you on if you do! Shishishi!” Luffy innocently chuckled - you felt tempted to smack his head at his indifference. 

In just one breath, Luffy transformed himself into a creature that wasn’t a horse but not a mammal either. It was more of like… a rabbit-horse. You were hesitant to approach him but Luffy casually grinned again, lowering his back before. 

“Hop on! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you won’t fall!” 

“I’ll make sure of it too.” You murmured, climbing onto his back. 

Luffy is proof that all legends about Pookah giving their passengers the wildest ride of their lives are true. As you let yourself settle in, Luffy sprints at a breakneck speed - so fast and rough that you must hang onto his neck for your dear life. You didn’t even try to utter a scream, only small whimpers in fear of biting your tongue. 

So many thoughts ran through your head. Is it a mistake to trust Luffy? How much time had passed - hopefully you would only miss a day or two. And will you make it out of here? You can almost imagine yourself running through the exit out of Grand Line, ignoring any of Luffy’s farewells and just stomping straight to Stelly and Sarie, giving them the beating of their lifetimes at the dining hall. There was also a huge hope that you would be reunited home again with your parents, maybe you could explain why you had lost your iron earrings and being in the Grand Line in the first place-

Luffy suddenly came to an abrupt stop. Before you can recollect yourself, Luffy turned back into his default form, unaware that he let his occupant fall behind his back. 

You quickly rose to your feet, nursing your sore arm, “W-Wha? Why did you stop-?” 

Luffy’s eyes grimaced, “Someone’s in our path. Look.” Luffy pointed towards a figure in a near distance. 

It was a male fairy - an intimidating one at that. Build impressively in a visage fit for royalty, but contains plenty of rebelliousness on the side. Freckles adorn his face like stars and black, wavy hair frames his fiery visage. Behind his back are a pair of transparent, fiery wings that almost resemble that of a hawk. By mortal standards, he is… magnificent.

Your blood ran cold. You recognize the mark on his wings from the illustrations that your mother once drew. She is an impressive artist, painting one bestiary after another with near accuracy. There was no doubt that right in front of your mortal eyes was the son of the Fairy King himself, Portgas D. Ace.

The very same one who thinks burning mortals who pissed him off can be considered normal in Grand Line. 

“Wha- what is he doing here? H-H-He’s not supposed to be here-” You stammered. 

“Who’s not here who?” Luffy stared at you in question.

“That fairy! Ace! I heard stories about him - he’s dangerous! We have to go!” You furiously shook your head, already searching for a hiding spot. 

Upon looking at the fairy in question, Luffy’s face lightens up, “Oh, yeah! You’re right! That’s my brother! OII! ACE-!” 

You felt your heart drop at this revelation. Brother. He just has to be Luffy’s brother - why not? It didn’t help that Ace’s attention was stirred by Luffy’s ruckus. Rushing to Luffy’s side, you grabbed his arm as tightly as possible. 

“No!” You pleaded, shaking, “Don’t let him see me! I can’t be seen by a fae folk, especially him!” 

“What? Why not? I know Ace very well, he won’t hurt-” 

“Luffy, please.” 

There was a slight hesitation when Luffy analyzed the fear in your voice. It was a gamble, whether or not Luffy would listen to you. Pouting always works, that’s how you got a leeway from the authorities if you happen to be in any sort of problem - like that time you accidentally broke Mayor Woodlsap’s window for a lighter punishment from him. You put your best one yet, coupled with a doe eye that made you seem helpless and innocent. 

A few seconds later, Luffy solemnly nodded, “Okay, I won’t tell him that you’re here. Just hide wherever you can, alright? I’ll come and get you when he’s gone.”

You didn’t think twice and made a run for the nearest bushes and rocks that concealed your entire body. Your head peered out upon the two fairy brothers conversing after Ace made his way to Luffy. 

Everything about Ace is breathtaking. His beauty is every bit as true as the stories told by swoony-eyed village women. You also have to remind yourself - thanks to your father’s stern warnings time and time again - that Ace is also well-known for his trickery. He is a fairy that would burn humans into a pile of dust or turn them into trinkets if he fancies. 

The fact that Ace is unpredictably harmful.

It felt like forever when you counted until five minutes passed by, trying to make out what Ace was saying to Luffy. He seems to whisper something into Luffy’s ears, but the distance is far too wide for you to listen. So you rely on your eyes instead, observing Luffy’s face slowly form into an enthusiastic expression as Ace conversed excitedly with his brother. 

You silently breathed in relief when Luffy waved goodbye to Ace, gently coaxing you out of the hiding spot, “He’s gone, don’t worry.”

“What are you talking about with Ace?” You brushed off the dirt in a hurry and climbed to Luffy’s back once more. 

“Noooo….thing?” Luffy innocently answered - you rolled your eyes. 

“Okay, fine. How far are we to the edge of the entrance?” 

“Won't be long now. We just need to make a BIIIG dash straight there…” Luffy pointed straight at a cluster of trees. 

“Alright,” you nodded, “Let’s go.” 

You barely notice a sliver of Luffy’s dark grin as he runs with all his might towards the clearing. You ignored all the branches, the leaves, and the force of the wind that blinded you - all you care about is reaching the end - to home. 

A bright light blinded you at the end of the path. When Luffy stops and lets you off his back carefully, you slowly adjust your eyes to the new surroundings. 

But it wasn't the entrance as you might have hoped. 

It was a lakeside. 

A lakeside that is also full of various fairy folks - bathing and playing and hanging around one another. 

It dawns on you that Ace had persuaded his brother to lead you to a trap. 

“Hey, guys!” Luffy shouted, dragging you towards them, “I brought a new friend!” 

A green-haired demon-like fae folk sighed exasperatedly, getting out of the water, “Luffy. How many times do we have to tell you not to bring any more weird people-” 

That’s when his eyes landed on you. 

Everything went quiet. Several eyes gazed upon you in interest for a few seconds. 

And then it exploded into elated chatters. 

Oh no. 

“Luffy…” A blonde nymph-like man with swirly eyebrows eyed you as if his birthday came early, “You didn't tell me that you caught a human girl.” 

His statement brought an ominous wonder to the rest of the occupants in the lake. 

“Somehow, you know how to lighten our day, Luffy.” A fae with a top hat chuckled, already getting up from his position, and making his way carefully around you. 

“Come little human, would you like to join us…?” A pretty maiden with long dark hair and piercing blue gaze, a Huldufolk, she recognized, put down her book, and extended her arm at her. 

“Listen up, I want her first.” A large troll with red hair quipped, taking in your fearful form. 

“Mind your turn, Eustass-ya,” Another fae, dark and attractive, scanned your visage, “It’s been a while since I have a human to play with. The last one didn’t last long on my table.” 

An overwhelming sensation flooded your brain - the fae folks sauntered towards you closely, each with every step you took back. Luffy’s reckless decision had earned you a cold, hard target from every fae folk on your back. In a split second, you did the only thing you could think of.

You ran. 

Several cries of “Come back!”, “Play with us!” rang all across the field. But you did not listen. No, not when every mere form of danger is right by your footsteps. 

Hurt. Sickened. Betrayed. These are the only things that are in your mind. Oh, how foolish you are - no matter how good his intentions are, Luffy is still a fairy who plays tricks upon humans - and now you are his next victim. 

Your mind is made up in determination when Luffy springs before you again, trying to explain something. By now, you have already pulled out the cross from your bag and brandished it upon Luffy who backed away. 

“I shouldn’t have trusted you,” You growled dangerously, hovering the cross like a weapon.

“Wait! What’s-your-name, I can explain-!” 

“Oh, you have already explained enough! Now begone!” 

Luffy drew a wicked grin, “Yeah, I was planning to take you back…” Luffy circled you in a predatory manner, “...but my brother Ace had better plans.”

Luffy effortlessly dodged the cross that you had swiped at him, “GET AWAY FROM ME! I wasted enough time with you around! I’ll go home myself!” 

“I like you, you’re interesting. Join my pack.” You gasped - Luffy’s arms started to stretch like rubber, coiling onto your other weaponless arm. 

“I refuse!” You hissed, trying to escape from his bond. 

“Then I refuse your refusal!” Luffy starts to lose his calmness, and he holds you even tighter, “Please Wet blankie! What’s-your-name! I promise you, they are not going to hurt you-!” 

“Go away!” You screeched with all your might, pushing Luffy away and hoping that your cross might make a nick on him. You kept running, you could care less if Luffy begged you to stop, you can't simply look back. Perhaps you assumed that Ace summoned himself right next to Luffy, his eyes boring at your running form. He grabbed Luffy by his shoulder, in a regality fit for a king.

“Don't let her go, Luff,” Ace spoke, honeyed and full of dark intent, “All of us had waited years to have her back. We can’t lose her now.” 

“No…” Luffy nodded, “I won’t. We’ll get her.” 

-

There is nothing worse than to run from fairies and get lost again in their forest. Exhausted as you are, there is no willingness from you to yield from their relentless pursuit. You are going home, and that is final. 

Then your nose picked up a salt-like scent. The ground is becoming more coarser as well. You finally realize that as you are busy fleeing for your life, you end up on a sandy beach. Not too distant from you is an ominous cave on the seawater, far too eerie to enter. 

And yet, as if curiosity overrides your logic, you decided to take a closer look at it instead. 

“Come here…” You jumped. There was a faint voice coming from the cave. So you know how to play this game. You firmly planted your foot into the sand, ignoring the voice that keeps persistently trying to coax you inside. 

You crossed your arms and looked away.

The cave lets out a guttural growl - something comes out. You kept your fingers clenched onto the cross as a creature, a merman-like being, swims out, and reaches near you. Aside from his long hair, a striking feature of him is his strange triangle-shaped eyebrows that frame his sharp eyes. 

“Must you be so stubborn, child? I know what was going on here, and I am here to help.” He drawled. 

Basil Hawkins, the Marmennill, is here to lead you.

#one piece #one piece fic #one piece reader fic #yandere one piece #yandere monkey d. Luffy #yandere portgas d. ace #yandere x reader #one piece x reader #fairy folk #yandere one piece fae folk #one piece x y/n #yandere basil hawkins #yandere trafalgar law #yandere imagine #one piece writing #nordic mythology

[ramlightly]

I wrote a 2.7k word fic of Dandelion being an annoying shit while being sick and put it on the patreon! It's short, it's sweet, and only a little bit sappy and I hope you enjoy it.

#my writing #my art #writing #dandelion #father basil

[ibrithir-was-here]

Rosemary is for Remembrance Part 2

Part 1

Part 3

#my art #Rosemary is for Remembrance #the picture of dorian gray #tpodg #basil hallward #henry wotton #lord henry wotton #dorian gray #comics #horror comics #victorian gothic #gothic fiction #gothic horror #tw blood #(gosh writing Wotton is aweful #I don’t know how Wilde could stand doing it) #oscar wilde #classic literature #classic horror

[runa-falls]

I’m obsessed with that moment where Basil touches himself in lightningface I keep watching a gif of it. The way he lifts up his leg when he finally goes in to touch his cock 💖💖💖 I bet he’s so sensitive and needy

oh my god don't even get me started ab how PATHETIC this man is🫠 he's the type of guy who cries before, during, AND after sex~

let's be real, he gets off on you getting off. is there even a during phase of sex anymore?? the answer is no bc he literally came as soon as he pushed inside. now he's keeled over your body from the intensity of his orgasm, tears dripping down his perfectly imperfect face.

it's even more pathetic when he tries to be generous and eat you out. he's barely 5 mins in before he's making a mess of himself. he stares up at you with humiliation painted over his flushed cheeks, murmuring soft apologies for being so easy and cumming all over himself.

luckily, it only takes a couple minutes of hushed praises and soft kisses for him to get it up again. in conclusion, when he's with you, he's pathetic and insatiable...

#anon #basil stitt #basil stitt x reader #basil stitt smut #i'm supposed to be writing an essay rn #but i'm horni

[notallsandmen]

The Picture of Hob Gadling

Given that Dream commissioned a Shakespeare play to subtweet his ex Titania, I’m just gonna go right ahead and suggest that Dream immediately post-1889 meeting inspired Oscar Wilde to write a novel about a handsome, cocky young man made immortal through Faust-like corruption by an imperious aristocrat, only to then become an ungrateful prick who friendzones sensitive misunderstood artistes

#1890s Dreamling #1889 hob gadling #1889 morpheus #1889 Dream #1889 Dreamling #The picture of hob gadling #Dream is both Lord Henry and Basil #I guess Eleanor is Sibyl here #Hob is not enjoying Romeo and Juliet at all #sulking in opium poppy dens #I know someone has suggested that Hob thinks that Dream told Wilde about him #but I don’t remember which fic #Sighs and adds it to the WIP pile #my dreamling writing #oscar wilde #the picture of dorian gray #dreamling #dream x hob #hob gadling #victorian au #dreamling victorian au

[bookish-bogwitch]

Hello! I don't have any new words to share from Basil Pitch's Diary, but thought I'd share the BPD plot timeline that lives over my desk. Here it is, redacted but for one spoiler.

Art credits from top left: Basilton Grimm-Bitch by @artsyunderstudy Baz Pitch by @dead-cherry-bitch "Twinkle, twinkle little star!" by @dancingwdinosaurs

I just needed to physically move things around to grasp what could / should go when. When I finish writing an event, the paper slip comes down. (It's not to scale in terms of chronology--this started about halfway through the story.) At this point I've changed a lot and it's out of date but I've kept it up for inspiration. I mean--look at him! He deserves an HEA.

Tags & hullo to @facewithoutheart, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello,

@raenestee, @rimeswithpurple, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @hushed-chorus, @emeryhall, and anyone reading this.

#baz pitch #other people's art #my writing #sort of #process pics #basil pitch's diary #wip wednesday

[nav-i-nav]

“We found Basil tending to his garden, as usual! He was so confused when we whisked him away towards the forest! Just wait until he sees what we prepared for him! I bet he’s going to love it!”

📷🌻 Happy birthday, Basil! 🌻📷

Small one-shot for my AU below… thank you if you read it….!

"Hurry up, Basil!" Aubrey urged, pushing the mint-haired boy with all of her strength, her large ribbon bouncing on top of her head with each step she took. The girl huffed and puffed, almost tripping and knocking the gardener over in the process. Nevertheless, she continued, her cheerful but bossy tone echoing throughout the flower field the four friends were passing through."Or else we're not going to make it on time for your surprise birthday party! Mari would be really mad if we–”

As soon as those words left her lips, she stopped dead in her tracks, her smile turning sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Oops.…"

Next to her, a short boy with messy hair let out a loud groan, puffing his cheeks in annoyance.

"Great job, Aubrey!" He exclaimed with disdain. Next to him, Sunny narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue in disproval. "You ruined it!"

"It was an honest accident, okay?! No need to be such a jerk over it…" The girl snapped back at him, turning around to face him and crossing her arms. "Besides, you almost spilled the beans when you dragged Basil away from his garden anyway, so don't try to act like you know how to keep a secret either, Chico!"

Aubrey then returned her attention to Basil with the same shy expression, ignoring Chico's protests as she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. “Can you please act surprised once we get to the treehouse? Mari and Hero worked really hard to get everything ready for the party and I’d be really sad if all their hard work went to waste because of me.”

Basil simply shrugged, a small teasing smile forming on his lips as he giggled. “What party?”

The girl let out a big sigh of relief, giving him a thankful nod before she nudged him forward. “Well, let’s keep moving then! We can’t waste any more time standing around here like a couple of lost sprout moles!” As she said that, she shot Chico an accusatory glare, to which the boy  replied with an offended “What?!”

“Oh, quit playing dumb!” Aubrey tapped her foot against the ground, her brows furrowing as she pressed her lips together. “You know as well as I do that if it weren’t for you and your stupid obsession to prove you’re strong, we wouldn’t be running late!”

“It’s not stupid!” Chico argued back, placing his hands on his hips and rolling his eyes. “If we hadn’t dealt with those sprout moles who knows what might’ve happened. What if someone got hurt?”

“Since when do you care if someone gets hurt or not? All you wanted was to show off!”

“Did not!”

“You so did!”

“You’re such a liar!”

“Guys…” Basil let out an awkward laugh, stepping in between the two of them. “If you keep arguing like this, we definitely won’t make it to the treehouse in time.”

Aubrey opened her mouth, ready to protest, but she simply huffed and nodded, crossing her arms and looking away from Chico. “Fine.”

Basil waited.

Three.

Two.

On–

"But we definitely wouldn't have had to take so many twists and turns if it weren’t for Chico always fooling around. Hmph!”

There it is.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is!”

“Nuh-uh! Both you and Sunny kept getting distracted as well! Stop acting as if it’s all my fault!”

Basil sighed, giving up trying to get his friends to listen to him. Why did all their conversations have to end with the two of them fighting? He knew neither of them was actually upset, but still… Couldn’t they at least try to get along just once?

At least they managed to find this field of flowers after having to take so many shortcuts. All the flowers were different shades of blue and purple, their petals gently swaying in the summer breeze. Basil had made sure to take note of all the different kinds of plants he found as they made their way amongst the grass. Ah, if only they could stop for a little while so he could take in the scenery better…

Well, there was no benefit in dwelling over it. And he could always come back here another day. But the sky was so pretty… 

Slowly, Basil pulled out his camera, focusing the lens on the flowers. He held his breath, and…

Click!

The photo slowly slid down into his hand, the gardener grasping the Polaroid with care as he waited for the image to fully develop. Slowly, the colors began burning into the paper, all the hues mixing together to reveal a beautiful scenery.

The mint-haired boy smiled, satisfied, and put the photo in his pocket, he didn’t want it to be damaged until he could place it in the photo album, after all. He couldn’t wait to show everyone. Sunny would probably want to draw–

He snapped back from his thoughts, looking back at his friends. 

“Where’s Sunny?”

Aubrey and Chico stopped their bickering, the two of them turning back to Basil with confused expressions, confusion that quickly turned to shame. Basil’s smile soon vanished as he let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. That was all he needed to know. 

“He wandered off on his own, didn’t he?”

No response.

That was all he needed to know. Basil shook his head, looking around the flower field to see if he could find any trace of his best friend. Unfortunately for him, Sunny proved to be quite the sneaky one, as there were no footprints to follow. He pressed his lips together, before taking another deep breath and putting on a bright smile, his tone cheerful and calm. “Th-that’s okay! We’ll just have to look for him. I doubt he got too far away, so why don’t we split up? The field isn’t that big, anyway.”

“Good idea, Basil!” Right away, Aubrey nodded, already bouncing on her feet as she looked around. “I’ll take the left and Chico can take the right!”

“Why do I–”

“And Basil,” Aubrey continued through gritted teeth, shooting Chico another warning stare. “can go back to where we came from to see if Sunny went back.”

Before Chico could try to argue again, the gardener hummed in agreement, pressing his hands together. “Sounds like a plan! Let’s meet up here in five minutes, okay?”

His friends answered with an “Okay.” at the same time, though Chico was clearly still upset about having to follow Aubrey’s lead, grumbling under his breath as he walked away. Likewise, Aubrey’s bow kept bouncing up and down as the girl cheerfully hopped away. She reminded him of a bunny.

Once he was alone, Basil began walking back the way they came, scanning his surroundings as he tried to find any sign of his best friend. As he walked, he couldn’t help but hum a little tune to himself, his hands brushing against the forget-me-nots and lavenders’ soft petals. The flowers’ fragrance filled his nostrils, making him calm down. Despite how he tried to keep his composure, in truth, he was a little afraid. By all means, he didn’t doubt Sunny was strong enough to take care of himself, and he wasn’t one to rush into battle, but this was still an unknown place, as pretty as it was. 

Aubrey always told him he worried too much about them, but he couldn’t help it. He loved his friends more than anything, so if anything were to happen to them….

Basil always made sure his friends stayed safe. It was a bit tiring, sure, but caring for those he was closest to always filled him with a warm sense of fulfillment and peace. He did feel a little bad from time to time, constantly chasing after them and nagging them to be careful, feeling like he was being too pushy or too nosy, but they never seemed to mind. Well, except for Chico… hehe…

He kept walking until he caught a glimpse of a blue rose out of the corner of his eye. Curious, Basil crouched down, reaching his hand out towards the flower. As his fingertips traced the edges of the flower’s petals, he couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by it. He had never seen a rose such as this. What was such a rare flower doing all alone, surrounded by so many different flowers?

He had the urge to take it back with him and care for it so he could show it to his friends. Something about it was so unique and appealing that he just couldn’t leave it here and–

“Ouch!” Basil winced, taking away his hand as one of its thorns managed to pierce through his gloves and prick his finger. He could feel his eyes tearing up a little due to the pain. As he took off his glove and examined his hand, he could see a thin trail of blood slowly dripping from the tip of his ring finger. Despite the thorn’s small size, the cut stung quite a bit. 

“I guess I deserve that.” Basil chuckled, shaking his hand to get rid of the blood. Indeed, he had been selfish and didn’t consider what would happen to the rose had he tried to pluck it. Maybe there was a reason it chose to bloom surrounded by so many different flowers. He hummed, rummaging through his pockets as he looked for a bandaid for his injury. 

As he did, he couldn’t help but muse. He hadn’t changed, had he? He cared for his friends, yes, but he did so because he was afraid they would leave him if he did something wrong. He did his best to smile and be kind, but sometimes it was quite tiring to chase after Chico or to remind Sunny to take a break from drawing. Sometimes he’d even have to stop Hero from taking on another chore even if he was already very busy. 

Just now he had thought about how exhausting it was to constantly have to play peacemaker whenever Aubrey and Chico argued. But, was it so wrong to feel that way? 

Basil ran his hand through his hair as he stood up, a small, resigned sigh leaving his lips. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He should be grateful he had such good friends! Sure, they could be a little rowdy and careless from time to time, but at the end of the day, they were still kids. And he was one too. He couldn’t act like he was more mature than them just because he wasn’t as impulsive as them, now could he?

To be honest, the gardener wished he could have some of the bravery and enthusiasm they had. Although he didn’t like exploring as much as his friends, he was always coaxed into accompanying them. It was fun, but also a bit too extreme for his taste…

Oh well…

As he heard his friends’ quick footsteps and cheerful voices growing closer, Basil took one last look at the lonely blue rose hidden in the grass. 

Maybe one day he’ll be able to do as he pleases. 

But for now, he’s more than happy simply tagging along in his friend’s adventures. 

#omori #omori game #omori fandom #omori au #chico au #omori art #omori fanart #omori fic #omori fanfic #omori basil #basil omori #Navi’s art #my art #Navi’s writing #this is what I meant when I said I was cooking #can’t believe I managed to do it all today omg….. #apologies if there’s any mistakes in the writing btw ;;;;; #I’ll upload it tomorrow on AO3 once I proof read again…. #anyway I know a lot of people aren’t familiar with my au because I barely post content about it #but I’ll do my best to upload stuff and maybe even make a blog for it ^^! yay!

[thespaceyace]

[Red Hands OMORI AU] fresh new cover

#thespaceyace #omori #omori fanart #omori game #red hands omori au #red hands au #red hands omori #red hands #omori sweetheart #omori sunny #omori mari #omori kel #omori hero #omori spoilers #omori fandom #omori basil #omori aubrey #truthfully romantic kelbrey has grown on me since I actually started writing them #heromari #omori sunflower #kelbrey

[silversoulstardust]

I think kidkiller is such an amazing and underrated one piece ship out there. They literally:

1. call each other partner. as in aibou. AIBOU. like bruh come on now

2. Kid who snuck out of prison risk getting arrested again bc during his run he saw Killer on a chain being transported to the same prison he was in earlier

3. In onigashima Killer refused to hurt Basil Hawkins when he realized he was hurting Kid through some voodoo doll shit Basil was using. In the same fight he bargained with his own life so Basil would spare Kid

4. Kid threatened to kill anyone who laughed at Killer for the unfortunate side effect of the Smile fruit that made him constantly smiling and laughing. The same fruit Killer was tricked into consumption by Orochi bc he was promised a chance to save Kid who was held captive at the time for going against Kaido

5. Also here's a backstory of how they met, according to my ex-roomie who prefers the manga and paid attention to the backstory:

do not tell me that's not a good plot to a oneshot explicit fic right there lol

I hope I've turned y'all into a kidkiller believer. any more addition to the list is welcome ❤️

#chromie is watching #one piece #i just finished the episode where killer fought basil and feel the need to write this down before I go insane on my own #kidkiller #eustass kid #op killer #kid x killer #chrmz.txt

[basilpaste]

i had a whole big idea for this, but im afraid im not terribly good at comics! or drawing fast!!! but its isas birthday!!! happy birthday!!

(the gifts are under the cut! written out!)

"Thank you! But, oh Change, you really didn't have to get little ol' me anything, ehe!"

"Nonsense, Isabeau." Odile huffs fondly. "You're part of our little team, after all. Did you think we'd forget?"

Maybe a little? You don't even entirely remember telling them about your birthday! From the look on Mira's face, though, you must have told her. It seems like she orchestrated the whole thing.

She claps her hands together cheerfully, "So! Who wants to go first!"

Bonnie waves their hands wildly, hopping up and down. "Oh!! Oh me! I want to give Za my gift!!!"

Heh! It doesn't seem like anyone's willing to fight them on it. After a moment of silence, they cheer, rushing off to heft up a small gift bag. They hurtle back towards you and present the bag dramatically.

You gingerly take the bag from them and pull it open. Inside is a-

"WAUGH?" You yelp, dropping it!

The bag falls on its side, sending the contents tumbling out. A spider?! A spider!

A... spider-shaped pin cushion.

Oh.

Bonnie lets out a long hard laugh, pointing at you, "Hahah!!! You thought it was a real spider!! Spiders don't get that big, dummy!"

"You'd be surprised," Sif speaks up, batting their lashes oh-so innocently.

You shiver. Bonnie also shivers.

"Thank you Bonbon for the pin cushion." You say, grabbing it off the ground.

... Stabbing a spider-shaped thing might feel kinda nice, actually. It was obviously a prank gift, but you'll still get plenty of use out of it!

Bonnie grins at you brightly.

Odile steps up next, bowing her head to you. She passes you a neatly wrapped box. You carefully remove the paper (its pretty!) and unfold the box.

Oh! A book!

Colour Me Curious: A History Of Colour Theory.

"Back in Dormont's House," she glances back at Sif when she says the word Dormont, you pretend you don't see, "you mentioned having an interest in colour theory. A librarian a few towns back recommended this to me. I figured you might enjoy it."

You nod rapidly. Oh!! You're surprised you haven't looked into it yet! You're not sure how you forgot! Especially considering the weird shade - colour - you all have seen! With your eyes!

"Thank you, m'dame!!" You say, trying to be mindful of your volume.

She smiles, "Of course. I'd like to hear what you take from it."

"Of course!!"

"Okay! Okay, um... me next!" Mira pulls two boxes from her dress pocket (?????) and holds them anxiously, "I shouldn't have gotten two! I don't want to overshadow anyone else! But! I think you'd like these both! So! So. I got them both! Happy birthday, Isabeau!!"

You scoop them from her arms, "I don't think anyone is worried about you overshadowing them, Mira!"

The rest of your friends hum in agreement.

"Okay."

A beat.

"Start with the smaller one!"

The smaller one turns out to be a light novel of some sort. Oh! She's talked about this one before!! How she thought you'd like it because it's super cute! You thank her and place it softly on top of Odile's gift before turning your attention to the larger box.

This is...

"Oh?" You squeak, feeling a little choked up.

"Oh?" Mira echoes, "Oh no! Do you- do you not like it?"

You grab the gift from its box, running your hand along the grain. Oh no! You might cry! Oh Change!

"Mira!! Mira this is so expensive? This is so much?" You feel unworthy to even hold it.

This is like... three meters of silk?? It's dyed such a rich lightless shade? That's unbelievably expensive!! It's beautiful and so well made that you're not sure what to do with yourself. Oh crab.

"It wasn't so bad, really!!" She yelps, worry clouding her expression.

You very softly (very, very carefully) tuck the silk back into its gift box. Then you throw yourself at Mira, sweeping her up into a tight hug. She cries out, clinging to you. And then bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Thank you thank you thank you???"

"Waaa!!" She laughs, "I'm glad you like it!!!"

"I know I know lightless isn't really your shade but you HAVE to let me make you a bow with this, Mira!!"

"Ah!! If you want to!!"

"I Do!!"

"Okay!"

You pull away from the hug, glancing back at the silk. You feel your chest swell with joy!! Oh Change!! This is so much stuff! And you're still not done!

Sif looks... a little bit nervous. They shift the box they're holding in their hands and shuffle up to you. After a moment of hesitation, he holds it out.

"... Happy birthday, Isa."

You take the box with care. It's small, but heavier than you're expecting. There's a bow on top that Bonbon snatches after you take it off. All of these gifts have been a surprise! But you're really not sure what Sif got you!

You open the box.

A piece of lightless fabric sits under the lid. It's embroidered! Not perfect or flawless, but done with care. Darkless spots are scattered on its surface and in big capital letters, it reads "You're A Star!"

Oh!! You get this joke, now! It used to only make sense to Sif but you know now!! Your chest feels light. You laugh.

"There's more." They say quietly.

You nod, gingerly removing the embroidery and setting it to the side. It reveals... a wood carving!! You pull the carving from the box, turning it over in your hands. This is you!!! It's a carving of you!!

How did you not notice him working on it??

"Sif!!" You gasp, "Sif it's perfect!!!"

"O-Oh?"

"This is beautiful!!! You made this? And the patch??"

He looks away, hiding his face in his cloak, "Um... yeah."

"I love them!" You grin so wide it hurts your face, "I love you! All of you!! This is all so... ah!! I need to start thinking about gifts for your birthdays, now!!"

"How about we finish celebrating yours first?" M'dame hums.

You feel light as a feather. You love your friends - your family - more than you can say.

#in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #isat #isat spoilers #isat fanart #in stars and time fanart #isat fanfic #isabeau isat #siffrin isat #mirabelle isat #odile isat #bonnie isat #basil paints #basil writes #im not very happy with the comic! but i am happy with the writing. it balances out.

[justastrugglinghotchocolate]

Ya’ll I used to jokingly consider this, but nah, there is enough evidence in the book to suggest:

Henry ruins Dorian out of spite and jealousy towards Basil for moving on from him.

Let’s get right into this. 

I went back into the book because I wanted to review the post I made about Henry and misogyny earlier. Besides the usual annoyance at Henry’s dumb stupid rant, I noticed this line:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

And then it hit me that Henry’s worst rants about women only come after the topic of marriage, but more specifically, commitment. Which then led to an even more interesting idea: I’m pretty sure Henry mostly uses ‘women’ as cover to complain about Basil and Basil’s ‘lack of commitment to him.’

I want to note that there’s a lot of interesting things in regards to Henry and his relationship with women that I’d love to go into, but this will focus solely on him and Basil.

Here’s what Henry says in his misogynistic ass rant after Sibyl dies. (This is from the 1891 ver):

“But [Sibyl] would have soon found out that you were absolutely indifferent to her. And when a woman finds that out about her husband, she either becomes dreadfully  dowdy, or wears very smart bonnets that some other woman’s husband has to pay for.”

Basil is often considered ‘unfashionable’/‘dowdy’ by Henry’s standards. This is only further proven in what he says about Basil’s disappearance:

“Why should he have been murdered? He was not clever enough to have enemies. Of course, he had a wonderful genius for painting. But a man can paint like Velasquez and yet be as dull as possible. Basil was really rather dull. He only interested me once, and that was when he told me, years ago, that he had a wild adoration for you and that you were the dominant motive of his art.”

But that isn’t all. The last part of that quote matches one to one to Henry’s claim about women (or Sibyl, specifically). Basil was not only ‘dull’, but his only ‘fashionable’ attribute, his art, grew ‘dowdy’ once he discovered Dorian’s indifference to him.

Henry also says this about women:

“Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil.”

And later:

“But women never know when the curtain has fallen. They always want a sixth act, and as soon as the interest of the play is entirely over, they propose to continue it. If they were allowed their own way, every comedy would have a tragic ending, and every tragedy would culminate in a farce. They are charmingly artificial, but they have no sense of art.”

Guess who makes resolutions regarding goodness? Basil, who refuses to believe that Dorian is nothing but a good, pure man. 

“[Basil] could not bear the idea of reproaching [Dorian] any more. After all, his indifference was probably merely a mood that would pass away. There was so much in him that was good, so much in him that was noble.”

Basil’s arc traditionally should have ended once Dorian rejects him. Between that chapter and the chapter where Basil dies, there is no mention of Basil in any form. By all means, Basil’s role in the story is over—and then he demands the ‘sixth act’ to confront Dorian.

And finally:

“Besides, nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all. Yes; there is really no end to the consolations that women find in modern life. Indeed, I have not mentioned the most important one.”

“What is that, Harry?” said the lad listlessly.

“Oh, the obvious consolation. Taking some one else’s admirer when one loses one’s own.”

Now before I point out the obvious irony of Henry literally 'taking someone else's admirer' (henry actually has a lot in common with his 'criticisms' of women), I want to bring your attention to a key part we don’t discuss enough about in the book.

““Life has always poppies in her hands. Of course, now and then things linger. I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die. Ultimately, however, it did die. I forget what killed it. I think it was her proposing to sacrifice the whole world for me. That is always a dreadful moment. It fills one with the terror of eternity. Well—would you believe it?—a week ago, at Lady Hampshire’s, I found myself seated at dinner next the lady in question, and she insisted on going over the whole thing again, and digging up the past, and raking up the future. I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

So I’m gonna make an educated guess and say Henry is lying his ass off here. He did not have a ‘romance’ with a woman. He certainly did not get an emotional, romantic attachment with a ‘woman’. I feel comfortable saying this because 1) his general distaste for women literally points to this being bullshit and 2) a significant change that was made from the 1890 version of the book to the 1891 version.

This is the quote in 1890:

“I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as mourning for a romance that would not die.”

This is 1891:

“I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die.”

Well, well, well, who is the arti—It’s Basil. He’s literally talking about Basil here. AND GUESS WHAT VIOLETS MEAN IN VICTORIAN FLOWER LANGUAGE?

A couple of things actually, but the top three are:

‘Faithfulness, Modesty, and Love.’

Henry emotionally had been faithful to Basil. While I doubt he was monogamous in anyway, Basil held a special place that no else would ever have. Not even Dorian.

And this brings me back to the quote that originally sent me down this rabbit hole:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

In the 1890 version, it says:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of poppies.”

Poppies are known to mean death and would have fit perfectly if Henry was saying he felt nothing for the relationship, but what does asphodel mean?

‘Love Beyond The Grave’, ‘Remembered Beyond The Tomb’ and sometimes, ‘My regrets follow you to the grave’. 

(NOTE: please keep in mind floriography could mean certain things based on the color and the type of flowers. That being said, considering Wilde described the shit out of every setting he wrote, the lack of detail about the flowers suggest the most broad meaning is meant to be taken.)

Henry isn't over Basil. He couldn't kill the love, so he buried it and took Dorian as a consolation and revenge. He will never be able to get over Basil until Basil or himself dies.

BOY DO I HAVE GOOD NEWS FOR HENRY/s

#long post #this is an opinion and a theory. #the picture of dorian gray #basil hallward #dorian gray #henry wotton #book theory #been workshopping this for some time #this post is very long and i didn't even get to go into my favorite example ;-; #anyways shout out to TheMissingMask on Ao3 for writing the fanfic that first got me into this theory. Their fanfic Eros is really good!! #You should read it #honestly read all their tpodg fics #does this make me an english major? uh oh #if someone else has made this kind of post already my bad lol #use this as supplemental or even confirmation #i will be back with the more headcanon-y part that relates to the first chapter alone. but for now i've got a chapter to finish ;)

[chaotic-toby]

An Omori headcanon that brings me so much joy:

After staying inside for four years straight, Sunny has trouble walking for long periods of time. Obviously, he walked around in his house, but not enough for his legs to remain strong. So when he leaves his house to hang out with Kel, his legs start hurting ten minutes or so later. He has to sit down on the sidewalk to rest. That or he leans on things to help him walk.

It subtle at first so no one notices, but eventually, Kel does and he forces Sunny to see Hero to find out what is wrong with him

#the highest honor a character can get: me projecting my leg problems onto them #I literally do this everytime I start hyperfixating on something new #“hmm which one should I give my leg problems to?” #I do it without fail #most of the time I have good reason though #it would make sense for Sunny to have trouble walking for long periods of time after staying indoors for four years #i want to write a whole fic about it but I'm lazy #omori kel #omori sunny #omori basil #omori hero #omori aubrey #omori mari #omori fandom #omori game #omori

[aubreysheadspace]

hi!! <3 can i rq the omori main cast with a reader who gets attached to people super easily + is rly affectionate :D (separate & romantic pls!! OHOH AND rw not headspace :3) if it's easier for you, you can just write kel, basil, & hero!! ^_^

THANK U AUBREY DEAREST I LUV UR BLOG SO MUCH

MAIN CAST WITH A READER WHO GETS ATTACHED TO PEOPLE EASILY/IS REALLY AFFECTIONATE

WAAA TYSMMM I’m so glad ppl enjoy my work sm :0!! Hope u enjoy!!

SUNNY

SUNNY is absolutely touch starved without realizing it, so he’s definitely stiff and awkward at first when you give him a hug or simply hold his hand

slowly but surely he’s gonna get used to it, and then he’ll be expecting at least a hug every single day at the point. he’ll be a bit disappointed if not but he’ll get over it

if you kiss him he’ll stop anything that he’s doing and stands/sits there for at least two minutes before his ears turn red and his cheeks slightly turn red as well

there was absolute silence, not a single movement from your boyfriend who you decided to kiss on the cheek/lips for the first time as a sweet reminder of how much you loved him. you grew to become a bit worried and poked his shoulders. "SUNNY?? SUNNY, are you okay??" you asked your stoic boyfriend. after a minute of poking him, you saw his ears turn a bit redder then usual and then his cheeks. you smiled a bit, knowing your boyfriend enjoyed the little kiss you gave him

SUNNY doesn’t mind if you get easily attached to others, and doesn’t mind if you two just met and you’re already attached to him

he’ll find it weird, but that’s basically it. he kind of enjoys someone being automatically attached to him for some reason?

if it’s someone else you’ve grown attach as well, SUNNY will feel a little jealous. he hides it pretty well, but always reassure him that you love him the most

AUBREY

when she was younger, AUBREY would always take any sort of affection no matter what and even give back some of her own! although now that she’s hot-headed and a bit aggressive from everything that’s happen, AUBREY stays stiff when you give her a hug of some sort

she immediately look at you in disbelief before slightly smirking and letting out a chuckle. she secretly enjoys being hugged, especially when she’s feeling down the most. she also touch starved without realizing it from not receiving any attention from her mom and due to MARI’s passing

if you give her a kiss she’ll immediately panic a bit and look at you with an even more expression of disbelief like "WHY did u decide to kiss me?!" but she’ll think back to it when she’s alone and not even realize her cheeks are turning red from the feeling and thought of the little kiss

AUBREY’s cheeks grew flustered when you decided to kiss her on the cheek/lips, she looks at you in shock and a bit frustrated. "wh- what was that for..?!" AUBREY asked as you stifled a giggle out. "i just wanted to show my girlfriend how much i love her!" you responded, smiling a bit at her. "pfft— whatever.. at least let me know next time, you dork.." AUBREY looked away as she didn’t want you to see how red she was.

AUBREY will genuinely be a bit surprised that you’re easily attached to people at first, is that why you’re attached to her?

she kind of thinks you’re naive to be attached to others. i mean, what if someone is deep down a huge jerk to you?

this applies if you’re already attached to someone else that isn’t her. she’ll be a bit jealous at first, but then that jealousy dies down if you reassure her a lot with physical affection and words of affirmation

KEL

KEL doesn’t mind if you’re so affectionate, because he is too! this relationship will be all about physical affection mostly but also a drop of words of affirmation

he’ll surprisingly give you affection more than you, and even be ECSTATIC when you give some back! he enjoys it no matter what and he’ll definitely need it when he has a bad day of some sorts

if you decide to kiss him, KEL would slowly process that you kissed him and once he does he gets even more ECSTATIC! he’ll gladly kiss you back with his dorky smile across his slightly red cheek

"woah!" KEL raised his voice a bit after he saw you give him a quick kiss on the cheek/lips for being such a good boyfriend. "you… you kissed me?" KEL said, kind of processing it which made you laugh a bit. "yes, yes i kissed you, KEL." you answered, and KEL finally processed it with a huge smile on his face. "you kissed me! you really did kiss me, [READER]! wow, i’m so happy!" KEL gave you a tight hug and plants a bunch of kisses across your face as his own reward for being such an awesome person to love him!

like the others, KEL does not mind at all if you’re super attached to others including him. that’s what makes you.. you! he won’t change it for the world

in a way, he’s sort of like that too! he understands where you’re coming from and even is a bit bashful is you’re already attached to him!

if you’re already attached to someone else that isn’t him, he won’t even consider himself jealous! he’ll instantly befriend the person as well!

HERO

HERO absolutely enjoys the amount of affection you give him! sure, he’ll be a bit awkward and nervous about it at first but he’ll always enjoy the amount of affection you give him!

he’ll always do something for you in return. you needed to get some chores? HERO has already done them for you! are you hungry for a home cooked meal? HERO has already something cooking just for you!

if you decide to kiss him, HERO will instantly flustered but will give you his own charming kiss back as a little thank you

HERO looked at you with his eyes slightly widened after you decided to give him a kiss on the cheek/lips. he immediately turns into a slightly blushing mess and laughs nervously, "gosh [READER]! at least let me know when you’ll kiss me, haha!" HERO half-joked, looking away to hide his red face. "sorry, sorry! i just wanted to let you know how much i love all that you’re doing for me!" you explained your excuse, to which HERO looked back at you with the same surprised look before smiling warmly. "…thank you, [READER], i appreciate that you’re still with me."

HERO is genuinely a bit surprised how attached you are with people, but doesn’t judge you for it. that’s who you are and he doesn’t want to change you at all because he loves you!

he does know that there are actual jerks out there who’s take advantage of how nice people are, so he wants you to be extra careful!

if you’re already attached to someone else that isn’t him, HERO would love to meet them! he starts up a conversation with them, and just to make sure, let’s them know he’s your boyfriend

BASIL

BASIL is another touch starved one, and it’s pretty obvious. like AUBREY, he’d panic and be all flustered when you give him physical affection

he tries to calm himself down and slowly get used to all the love he gets from you, but he can’t help it! he appreciates all the attention and affection he gets from you but sometimes he gets overwhelmed easily, so make sure you start with him slowly

if you decide to kiss him, BASIL will immediately become all flustered and nervous. he’d excuse himself to the bathroom for a bit and once he does, he immediately tries to calm himself down. he can’t help but smile a tiny bit and cover his face in embarrassment

BASIL let’s out a tiny squeak as you one day decided to give him a kiss on the cheek/lips for how much he’s come so far. his face immediately turns all red and looks at you with a stunned look that said 'did you really just did that..?' you stifled out a tiny laugh and spoke, "sorry, sorry! i’m just really proud of you BASIL for how much you’ve come so far! i guess that was a bit too much for you, so i apologize..!" after you explained yourself, BASIL simply nodded and asked with such a meek and nervous tone, "sorry.. could you excuse me for a bit?" and immediately heads to the bathroom and locks himself in there. he couldn’t stop smiling and blushing for minutes!

BASIL is also surprised when he finds out you’re attached to people quite easily. he used to be somewhat the same four years ago and so he doesn’t judge you for it

although he’s closed off a bit now, he does secretly want to be your number one and never wants you to leave him for someone else

if you’re attached to someone else that isn’t him, BASIL will panic a tiny bit on the inside as he sweats more on the outside. he tries to reassure himself that you love him, so make sure his reassurance is correct!

MARI

MARI absolutely enjoys all of your affection! she’s pretty affectionate herself, so expect a lot of hugs and kisses on the forehead

she also uses words of affirmation as one of her love languages, so expect a lot of compliments and flirting coming from her!

if you decide to kiss her, she’ll blush a bit before smugly looking at you. she definitely tease you a bit just for fun before kissing you as well!

"oh my!" MARI had a bit of a surprised look on her face as she looks at what you did. you decided to give her a kiss on the cheek/lips for being the best girlfriend ever!! you stifled a laugh at her response but immediately recognize the smug look on her face and realized what you put yourself through. "my goodness [READER], i had absolutely no idea you were bold enough to do this, hehe!" MARI said, right before she surprised you with her own kiss. "..but i guess i am too!" she said as she giggled a bit, knowing that her plan to fluster you worked.

MARI doesn’t judge you for how easily attached you are when it comes to people. she’s somewhat the same way?? she could make conversation with someone and immediately earn herself a friend!

of course she’s always be your number one, MARI would make sure of that by giving you all of her affection and love, and inviting you to little dates like a simple picnic with just the two of you

if you already grown attached to someone that isn’t her, MARI would be HAPPY to meet this person! she’ll invite them to a picnic as they, and you too of course, chat it off! like HERO, MARI would let the person know that she’s your girlfriend just in case!

#aubreysheadspace!~ #aubreys writing!~ #omori #omori x reader #omori aubrey x reader #omori basil x reader #omori hero x reader #omori kel x reader #omori mari x reader #omori sunny x reader #omori aubrey #omori basil #omori hero #omori kel #omori mari #omori sunny