#prometheus x reader

[a-boca-do-inferno]

sex etiquette, free therapy & sincericide (david 8 x reader)

summary: David has many skills built into his design. Luckily for (y/n), trying is one of them.

warnings: swearing, nakedness, mentions of smut, slight angst, fluff

words: 1.0k

notes: hiii. i missed writing for him. could be read as a continuation to love or trust, or a standalone. either way i hope you enjoy x

David is oddly amusing after sex. He will awkwardly, although conceptually contradictory to his unhuman nature, walk to the bathroom and just stay there for a whole minute. Then he will come back — still without a word —, with his perfect naked body only illuminated by the low blue light in (y/n)’s quarters and frozen blue eyes that advert from hers at any cost. And it’s in that moment her gaze meets his, briefly, that sometimes she wonders if he ever regrets paying her those visits at night. 

Ever since the crew awakened, (y/n) couldn’t help but notice the difference of treatment David displayed between her and their colleagues. It was as subtle as a lingering touch whenever he brought her tea, or as blatant as his toothy smile directed at her whilst she studied some coordinates for the next expedition. Either way, it simply seemed impossible to escape the android’s overwhelming attention over herself. He hovered like a heavy cloud, but caused its opposite effect on the girl with his somewhat disconcerting warm presence. So, it was only natural their acquaintance would grow to be more intimate as time went on, resulting on that strange, casual relationship of theirs. 

It didn’t have a name or a clear goal. For now, (y/n) enjoyed his company — and his bedside manners, of course — very much and enough to want him around even after having sex. And that’s why his alien demeanour bothered her so much. Granted, this time she just had to speak up.  

“You always do that”, she muses. 

Sitting right next to her on the bed, mimicking the way her body is inclined on the headboard, David looks up at last. He has a neutral expression that turns into light confusion, flexing his eyebrows. “Always do what?” 

“You stand there, quiet, distant, as if you weren’t almost fucking me through a wall just now”, her tone is obviously comic, but it doesn’t seem to affect David that much. “I’m just kidding, by the way.” 

“I know”, he says, not really showing any sign of contempt. But then again, he never really did. His blonde hair is dishevelled and (y/n) puts it on place, causing him to flash her a smile before continuing, “and I am aware I have quite a lot to learn about sex etiquette.” 

“It’s more than that and you know it, David.” 

He frowns. “I don’t follow.” 

“Are you afraid?”, she then asks, taking a deep breath when the crease on his forehead only thickens. “Of us? Of me? Does this thing we have... I don’t know, frighten you?” 

His faint smile flutters a bit as his eyes travel the room. “I wouldn’t say fright. I believe I am incapable of experiencing such thing, as it is not in my design”, as low as his voice is, she can hear him clearly, yet his tone gives her nothing to consider. David is just plain about things, and although (y/n) appreciated his honesty, in that moment she only felt annoyed by it. Noticing her sour face, David inquires, “have I upset you with my words?” 

“Not really”, she shrugs, but fails to convince him of her lie. The girl sighs in defeat, closing her eyes for a second. “I just... I can’t understand how you can do what you do with me, hold me close, kiss me so passionate, and tell me that this is all just part of your design. It is not. I can’t... I can’t accept that.” 

“That is not what I meant, and you didn’t let me finish my sentence.” 

“So finish it.” 

 “You don’t frighten me, but I must admit I am uncertain of this relationship”, David explains, gazing intently at her. “You are aware of my limitations. I am not human, and I can’t provide you with the fulfilment a male of your species would and that which you probably will need, eventually. Emotional and physical wise.” 

(y/n) only hums in thought, nodding once. She then opens up her bathrobe, revealing her naked body to his eyes one more time. “What do you think when you look at me?”, she offers him a small grin, caressing her own curves as she waits for his answer. Some of his liquid remains still ran down her inner thighs and it almost aroused her again, but she contained herself. That question was important. 

David’s eyes scan her up and down as he states with a gravelly voice, “I think about having you for myself forever.” 

There is pause, and her insides burn with his words. (y/n) then scoffs, shaking her head as she covers herself again. “David, you can’t say things like that.” 

With genuinely curious eyes, he retorts, “why?” 

“Because I am alone in this giant piece of metal floating in middle of space for two years. And then you tell me this. How am I supposed to react?”  

“I simply responded your inquiry, (y/n)”, he mumbles, and there is no indignation to his voice. It is collected as ever, although his confused expression just gave way to a slightly more concerned one. “I don’t see how I could help your feelings, and I am truly sorry for that. However, perhaps... I could try.”  

“You can’t, David”, (y/n) sighs, taking his hand into her own. His pale fingers instantly curl against hers and she can’t hide a sad smile looking at them. “Nobody can, I guess. I’m just using you as my free therapist at this point, that’s all.”  

David stares at her for a moment and simply nods. “Do continue, then.”  

She shakes her head, another bitter smile painting her lips as she does so. “You know what? Forget I ever said anything, you’re right. You can’t and shouldn’t have to help me. Let’s just fuck again and call it a night.”  

David stops (y/n) halfway when she tries to straddle his body, raising his brows in a quick realization. “But I want to”, he whispers, squeezing her arms as he holds her in place. He then lets her continue to move onto his hips, pulling her close enough to feel her hot breath against his mouth. David grins at the surprise spread on her features, brushing their lips together, “do you?” 

They kiss, eventually, and his tongue takes her places (y/n) didn’t think were possible in the middle of nowhere. His embrace around her waist gives only enough room for her to catch her breath, before she rests her forehead over his. 

“Try me.” 

#david 8 x reader #prometheus x reader #david 8 imagine #prometheus imagine #michael fassbender x reader #michael fassbender #michael fassbender imagine #prometheus #david 8

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.

TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending

[Horror Masterlist]

"Burnt to a crisp." 

You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up. 

"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.

"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."

"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."

Your only feedback is a barely audible hum. 

Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.

That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.

They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one. 

His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it. 

He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary. 

Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way. 

But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only. 

"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."

"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.

"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."

And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.

"Vitals are positive. No significant damage." 

You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.

"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."

"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.

"No."

You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible. 

"What did you say?"

"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."

Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later. 

The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.

"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people. 

You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile. 

"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"

"Walter."

"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.

"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."

"Understandable." 

David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.

"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."

The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.

The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation. 

"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."

You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe. 

"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.

"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"

"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best." 

You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly. 

"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."

"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."

You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it. 

"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense." 

 "Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."

Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved. 

"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."

"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."

Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.

"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.

"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."

"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."

"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.

"Do you love her?"

Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.

"I do."

"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you. 

You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter. 

Should you make a run for it?

You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.

"Don't!"

The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin. 

Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.

"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out. 

Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.

"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair. 

"It won't kill her."

"How do you know?"

"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."

"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.

"A plaything."

The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always. 

You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities. 

Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.

Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up. 

"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave. 

Not until it had its fun with you.

#alien #alien covenant #prometheus #xenomorph #neomorph #neomorph x reader #xenomorph x reader #alien x reader #monster x reader #android x reader #robot x reader #yandere #yandere alien #yandere x reader #monster smut

[aphroditeslover11]

Today I discovered a mid-century photographer called Philippe Halsman who photographed the famous people of his era, from Richard Nixon to Marilyn Monroe. At the end of his sessions he would ask the person to jump into the air for a picture, believing that this would cause them to drop their pretenses and public persona, leaving him with a picture of the real person as they made their leap. He called this ‘jumpology’.

This is the photo he took of Robert Oppenheimer in 1958, possibly the most free and unreserved image of him that I’ve ever seen.

#oppenheimer #american prometheus #1950s #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #oppenheimer x reader #christopher nolan #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #j robert oppenheimer #history #world war two #manhattan project #philippe halsman #photography

[jester-lover]

Can The Creature from Frankenstein cuddle me?

Yes. Yes he can. He can cuddle all of us (particularly me, I need it)

All the fluff, a little warning for self deprecating behavior from our boy

The Creature Cuddle Headcanons!

First of all, this is a very touch starved boy

And also maybe a little bit scared of touch

The creature fears he may hurt you anytime he gets near you, so to have you request his attention? It seems like a dream come true for him.

He lays down next to you at first, heedlessly looking at you and placing a shaking hand on yours, engulfing it completely

The next move must be yours, hold him, caress his beautiful black hair, run your fingers across his scarred skin

“How can you stare at my horrific form as if I am something beautiful?”

Show him how stunning he is!

The creature will get the hang of it by that point, wrapping his arms around you with the utmost gentleness and pressing you up to his chest

His clumsy fingers will draw lines and circles on your back as you feel yourself drifting off into a comfortable and warm sleep

And when you do fall asleep, he will stare at you in awe and wonder

A human being trusting him enough with themselves to fall asleep on top of his ghastly form?

It means so much to him that you would trust him so deeply

Deep enough that you wrap yourself around him and trust him with your safety

The Creature can feel a sense of protectiveness bubble up in his chest, as he wraps his arms around you and drifts off

“A spirit of benevolence lives within you like nothing I’ve seen before…”

#reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanons #the creature x reader #adam frankenstein #frankenstein #frankenstiensmonster #frankenstein's creature #Frankenstein x reader #frankensteins monster #the modern prometheus #request #requested #adam frankenstein x reader #frankenstein's monster x reader

[edenminx]

Oh no bro i dropped my air pod no my airpods i dropped my airpod…mann my airpods i dropped my airpods

#my art #the scrunkly #Frankenstein #adam frankenstein #frankenstein fanart #the creature #adam Frankenstein x reader #adam Frankenstein x y/n #self inserts #he makes me sad #the modern prometheus #gothic literature #frankenstein’s monster

[supercap2319]

"Listen, Ben. I know you and Jed just broke up and I would never be that person who comes in looking for a quick fuck, but I was wondering... Would you like to go to the movies with me? As friends."

Ben looks at him. His blue eyes were shining with emotion. The whole school knew about the breakup. They thought Ben and Jed were endgame, apparently they weren't. "Why would you want to invite me?"

Y/N shrugged his shoulders. "Because you look like you could use a break from the Salvatore school for a while. And besides, movies always make you feel better. You don't have to say yes. I don't want to make you feel worse than you already do."

Ben thought it was sweet that Y/N was considering his feelings in this. He was touched. He smiled sweetly at him. "I would love to see these mo-vies with you."

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #ben legacies x male reader #zane phillips #Zane Phillips x male reader #prometheus #Prometheus x male reader #legacies #demigods

[hope-to-hell]

Shoulda missed the boat. Smut, pain, scarification, wounds, noncon. David 8 x Reader. Curiosity without compassion is a dangerous thing, especially when he doesn’t mind getting a little messy. This is more of a sketch than anything: brief moments during a long journey.

—-

You’re sick on the shuttle up to the docks, and so you miss the cut-glass cheekbones, the assessing glance, the uncanny stillness of his hand. The needle, however, can’t be ignored; there’s a blinding sting for half a heartbeat, and then nausea recedes and there he is. Better. It’s not a question.

The fuck?

And that’s the first time you meet David.

Of course, he’s not yet David to you; he’s still some anonymous creep and nevermind how you really do feel better. You can’t just—

Hm. Shouldn’t, perhaps. But I assure you, I most certainly can.

Can, indeed. He can navigate, name the stars, even recite old films line-by-line. He makes himself indispensable aboard the ship and the worst part is, he’s charming: so much so that you don’t feel the hand around your wrist until it’s too late, until his nails leave bloody indents in your flesh. He smiles his empty smile and says let’s get you to bed; the crew will gamble and tell their stories for hours yet, and you’re just the newcomer.

Gonna tuck your friend into bed there, Dave?

He doesn’t much like to be called Dave any more than he likes to be called you motherfucker or anything else, but at least with you he knows there’s a good reason to reach beyond his given name; he sees the bruises bloom under his hand and draws a line between your curse and the way you’re dripping wet. For me? Already? We’ve hardly gotten started.

Then there’s your bare ass cold on the table for the interrogation: how did it feel when he— It was, it was— the current sparking electric across your skin, leaving trails of heat and when he crooks his fingers there’s a moment when your vision goes white— am I dying—

Of course not, he isn’t finished with you yet. He’s hazy, sharp teeth sliding in and out of focus; his questions are stones piled on your chest. Tell me everything. Every sensation, every thought: he files it all away and next time he will be yet more vicious; he will drill down to what makes you tick and he will tear it all apart.

(This ship is haunted: moans ascend into wails that batter their way through the vents but dissipate into ethereality by the time the crew can hear; rumors whisper through the mess and are immortalized in little sketches scratched into the table. Ghosts, deep-sea fishes, strange creatures that walk like men but are all claws and teeth: each has a place on this ship, and each is almost true. Sailors shared their fears and became stronger for it. He drips venom in a pattern on your thigh; it hisses and smokes and all you can do is scream into his hand. I know. It hurts. Acknowledge it, accept it, let it fade into the background. Pretty words. He will be with you always, woven through your flesh in tight and shiny knots.)

He takes the pieces of you that fall away; he immortalizes them in a steady script on paper gone yellow at the edges, diagrams and sketches illuminating all the margins. Of all the luxuries on all the wide worlds he chose this: paper from trees long gone to dust, streaked with red across an image of your face gone slack and still. Do you dream of him in the long darkness between islands of awareness? You must, for how he’s dug himself deep into your bones; he says goodnight and— strange— it’s almost tender. Perhaps the scorpion and frog are fond of one another, in their way.

(Hey Dave, where’s your friend? You two were up real late last night. Still the crew means to be friendly; their gentle teasing floats warmly in the air and they don’t know— but how could they not; how could they miss the way his smile only ever bares his teeth— his hand grips at the memory of flesh and bile; he thinks of peeling off your scabs to taste the serous fluid there. Will it taste of copper, or of sharpness? Will the burn of acid still linger at the edges of the wound?)

He is all big broad smooth hands— nails digging in and unearthing the red-yellow-red of bubbling blisters gone to scabs— there is beauty to be found, even in the dullest places— he will leave concentric lines of healing skin; he will press his fingers down to make you writhe. There, there. Don’t cry. Don’t be so ungrateful; you are an infinitesimal speck and yet you sail among the stars. He bends to lick your wounds and considers the taste; life itself flows there in lost little eddies, waylaid from its journey to your heart. He takes those clever fingers of his— sticky, now, and with their imprints still welling red across your thigh— and plunges them deep into your center without warning.

Curious. One hand moves in you with a wrenching wet sound; the other now creeps its way across your thigh, sketching pain in livid streaks. One sensation amplifies the other. And now he will dig and twist and claw until he unearths that pearl inside you: the little seed of self that’s buried deep. Try your best to separate the two, and tell me how it feels.

(He guides you to your seat with a hand at your back— such a gentleman, aren’t you, David— and though he is in silhouette, still he seems all teeth and eyes. There is emptiness there, fathoms deep; he sees how much of you he’s pared away, and how much is left to cull.

Better, he says.)

#michael fassbender #david 8 #david 8 x reader #David 8 x you #David 8 fic #David 8 smut #david (prometheus) #david (prometheus) fic #david (prometheus) smut #david (prometheus) x reader #david (prometheus) x you #my fic

[imagininglotsofthings]

I have a toxic ex I broke up with almost ten years ago. Periodically he has contacted me over the years. I've told him to stop. He did it again. Not going into much more detail, it's personal.

But now I really want to read fanfciton. And you know what would be great self fulfillment and self indulgent fanfic? A young Erik Lehnsherr, or a Bucky Barnes, or Loki Odinson, or David 8, or Walter (Alien: Covenant) or TASM Peter Parker fanfic about OC or reader's ex not leaving them alone, and how Erik or Bucky or Loki or David 8 or Walter or TASM Peter Parker (oh, or Wanda Maximoff, or young Charles Xavier, even) would deal with it and what they would do. Anyone have one? Or want to write one for me? Pretty please? Let me know. Comment below. Thank you!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

#erik lehnsherr x reader #david 8 x reader #bucky barnes x reader argument #Loki Odinson x reader #Wanda Maximoff x reader #Alien Covenant Walter x reader #Walter x reader #marvel fanfiction #x men fanfiction #Prometheus fan fiction #Alien Covenant fan fiction #self indulgent fanfic #protective Erik Lehnsherr x reader #young Erik Lehnsherr x reader #young Charles Xavier x reader #tasm Peter Parker x reader #scarlet witch x reader #Magneto x reader

[wthtorke]

Chosen

Engineer X Afab Reader - Posted a month ago on my Patreon!  Enjoyy!

After the previous reports on how the species identified as Engineers -, also known as space jockeys, Mala'kaks, or even Ossians-, had a special connection with music, the next messages sent in hopes of establishing contact were filled with various clips of humans singing and dancing; implemented in the hopes of catching their creator’s attention.

Videos from all over the Earth made it to yet another Engineer military ship.

At first, the signal enraged them. Humans; their only successful experiment; the galaxy's child; Rotten, selfish, violent, and primitive.

The Captain's second in command, his Chief Officer, wanted to retaliate as soon as the signal reached their sensors, talking about how their species had been generous in letting them live for so long already. Still, something about the signal made the Captain curious.

Why would they reach out like this? With what intent? What could they want to say?

Gathering his crew, he played the message.

The first few seconds showed a family; it seemed; the grown males and females played different instruments as the children danced to the tune.

The crew and the Captain kept watching, with each Intro over; each other clip had different humans in it, each presenting their style of music, dancing, singing, smiling at whatever or whoever was recording them. “Culture” was the word plastered all over it; they knew what they were doing with the melodic tune they played throughout the video. But that wasn’t all. Clips of architects discussing plans of a building, followed by a timelapse of said building rising from the ground as several humans worked on it through seemly years, all in a couple of seconds. They saw an elderly-looking woman twirling her fingers holding long, fine needles in her hands, turning the simple thread into an intricate design, showcasing it proudly with a smile. Children hand-painted walls and then each other, laughing. None of the kids seemed to be related; none of them looked alike; maybe a school?

They played the videos over and over again for hours, for days. Analysing, focused, critical. They'd eye each other, whispering their thoughts as the video went on, some already had their opinions set in stone, but others had something akin to a smile as their favorite singer or dancer appeared on the screen one more time.

There was no message back. No response.

Until their ship came knocking on the Earth’s doors.

The ship landed close to where the message had originated from, a military base on the outskirts of a city. And hours later, while the Earth’s ‘representatives’ blabbered their welcomes, a massive crowd forming around them, the ship’s occupants had other intentions.The ship’s Captain lifted his hand, and all noise died down, and holograms formed on his palm, showing the frozen images from the clips they sent, a few from the hundreds featured in the video.

Male ballet dancer, Paris. Female Street dancer, Memphis. Female flutist, Venice. Male singer, New York. Female violinist, Coimbra. Female Belly Dancer, Tijuana. Female Kabuki dancer, Tokyo. Male drum player, Kinshasa. Female pottery artist- Sidney.

Confused about what these specific pictures meant, several translators were brought to their location alongside droids, trying to replicate their language. After ten minutes of struggling, and a very irritated Captain, finally, the message got across.

"I want these humans here, now."

The translators told their superiors what they demanded, not sure why they needed those specific people there, but after luring a dormant alien species out of their hiding spot in the galaxy, complying was the only option.

It took two days to get everyone from the list there. There were tents. Thousands of them set up around the ship, where the human military forces had quickly set up a barrier separating the civilians from the ship’s walls, as futile as it all seemed.

“Out of every fucking thing they could want, they want some singers and dancers. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“We set ourselves up for this one. We knew they liked hippies. They -are- the original hippies for crying out loud.”

“Pretty ballet dancers? Okay- a hot belly dancer? Sure. Now what the fuck do they want with a -pottery girl-?”

“Fuck if I know, Jared-” The two men argued as they reached the double doors that led outside again, the blinding light of the scorching sun fading as their eyes adjusted to it. The crowd cheered and booed as they pleased, two sides of each coin, even in this situation. The news feasted on the subject. “Human kidnapping?” “Human selection?” “Human sacrifice?”

At the top of the ship’s ramp stood the Captain and his crew, nine engineers in total, all waiting, stonefaced, and unmoving.

“Everyone here speaks English, right?” Said one of the men to the group of young adults gathered around them, the people they requested two days ago. After some nodding and yessing, he hums. “Great. You are not to say shit until we say so. These aliens are hostile until they show us otherwise. We don’t know why they requested your presence here specifically, though it has a tie to the videos of you we sent. You got instructed on how to act, so I’ll remind you: Stay the fuck still, stay the fuck quiet, and pray to whatever religion you follow that they won’t choose to fuck us up this time. Understood?” He doesn’t give any time for responding as the two men start walking to the gate, the group of people following behind them. The gates open, and they all follow to the base of the ramp, where two droids await.

“These are Adam and Eve, our translators. They have spent a limited time with our visitors and learned more or less a chicken scratch of their language.” The droids nod and turn forward again, facing the ramp.

The crowd’s noise dies away as the Captain takes the first step down the ramp, followed by his crew. Their walk was almost in sync as if they were droids themselves. It’s a long way down, each step building up more and more the tension in the air. They don’t reach the ground, stopping a little from the end of it, still keeping the higher ground.

The Captain speaks, and everyone listens attentively, even if they can’t understand him. His voice is husky, low, and firm. He didn’t leave room for questioning.

The droids nod and turn to their human counterparts. “The Captain informed us that the humans chosen here are to retire to their ship with them for a limited time of-”

“They want us to what-?!”

“Quiet. Proceed, Eve.”

The droid nods, “There are nine of them and nine of you. This would be akin to an exchange program but on the ship. They wish to learn more about us, but on their terms, sir.”

“I see…” The man sighs, rubbing his face as the other one groans, “Would they accept any negotiations on these terms?”

“Negative. Each human will be assigned a partner they are to stay with night and day. Partnerships are non-negotiable." Eve says.

Adam nods, "The Captain already chose the pairs.”

“So, we are to accept these terms?” The other man hissed. “Affirmative.” Said Adam. “The group is to part ways to the ship this instant.”

“But- what about clothes? Food? How are we to communicate with you guys or-, well, with them, at all?” One of the singers asks.

“Arrangements will be made throughout the day after you’ve retired to the ship,” Eve replies. “We are led to believe they don’t trust us with sending you inside with our equipment.”

“Well,” the first man sighs, “We don’t have much to do here.” he turns to the group again, “circumstances have changed, but the instructions haven’t. We have no room to negotiate your stay, but they are our guests as you are now also theirs.” he sighs harder. “Do not fuck up. Answer whatever questions they ask, and do not cause trouble. We’ll try to soften these terms and get to you faster, but until then, do not squirm in their grasp.” His tone is of warning, his eyes narrow and authoritative. He turns back to the droids, “tell the Captain we’re ready.”

The droids communicate their message, and the Captain nods, stepping down further and stopping a step or two before the ground. He opens his mouth, and the whole world seems to freeze again.

The droids nod and turn back to the group. “The Drum Player will be their navigator’s pair,” Eve says. The man nods shakily and steps forward, staring up at the aliens on the ramp. “But- which of them-?”

The Captain utters a word, and one of the engineers steps down the ramp to his side, shorter than the Captain by half a head. The navigator looks at the man and nods so briefly he wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t paying attention. “Go.” the man beside him hisses.

He gulps and starts walking past the droids, taking a deep breath at the foot of the ramp before taking his first step up. He walks up to the navigator and nods. The navigator nods to his Captain and begins walking up the ramp again, his human following in tow. They don’t stop near the others, walking up the ramp completely.

“Next up, the Violinist will be paired with their Weapons Specialist.” Says Adam. The girl trembles as she walks up and waits. The Captain calls, and the bulkiest engineer out of the bunch steps down the ramp, staring at her impassively. The girl whimpers, and it takes Adam’s gentle ushering to get her to move up the ramp.

“Who do you think will be paired with the Captain?”Whispers roam around the remaining group as the Captain announces more pairs.“The Flutist and the Kabuki Dancer will be paired with their Pilot and Engineer, respectively.”They step forward as the Captain calls his crew members to get them.

Four down. Five to go.

“The Singer and Street Dancer will be paired with their Biologist and Medic, respectively.”

“Do you think he’ll save himself for last?” asked the Belly Dancer; the Ballet dancer shrugs slightly.“The Belly Dancer will be paired with their Communication Officer.”“Guess that answers your question.” He says as she nods and walks up the ramp to meet her alien.

Leaving only the Captain and the Chief Officer still standing on the ramp.

The Captain utters the last two pairs, and Eve nods.“Last but not least, the Captain’s pair will be the Pottery Artist, leaving the Chief Officer with the Ballet Dancer.”The Ballet Dancer nods and walks up the ramp with his pair.

Leaving you to stare up at the Captain on the ramp.

#👀 #Headcanon #engineers #alien engineer #engineer x reader #reader #alien vs predator #Alien #Aliens #Aliens vs predator #prometheus #alien covenant #alien courtship #afab reader #malakak #space jockey #alien relationship

[infin1ty-garden]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

I've decided to reopen requests as I have more time to write this and next week. If you would like to request do so but follow the guidelines I have written. Thanks for understanding!

LIST OF FANDOMS I WRITE FOR

Fromula 1 RPF Shadow & Bone Scream Top Gun: Maverick DBH The Quarry Alien

Thanks for reading & requesting!

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 x you #formula one x reader #shadow & bone #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #scream x you #scream x reader #jake seresin x reader #bob floyd x reader #natasha trace x reader #robert floyd x reader #hangman x reader #dbh x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800 #connor x reader #dbh rk900 #rk900 #rk900 x reader #nines x reader #laura kearney #max brinly #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #david 8 #alien covenant #prometheus

[revoltingcreation]

Prolonged Reunion

(Henry Clerval/Gender Neutral Reader! No warnings needed :D)

It was only supposed to take two months, but here you found yourself arriving at Geneva seven months later. You knew a storm was approaching, but what luck for it to strike when you needed to cross the ocean. Thankfully you were alright, but you had to build an entirely new vessel. You…weren’t that good at boat building, but it worked and that’s all that mattered. When you finally reached the shore, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Now you just need to get home.

Your house was just a few miles away, so you walked down the streets and enjoyed the scenery of your hometown. You had missed it after all, but there one thing you had missed the most.

Henry.

God, what would he be thinking about right now? Hopefully he didn’t worry himself to death like someone else you knew, no, he’s stronger than that…right? Your pace quickened as your thoughts continued, until you had reached your house. You shoved around your pocket until you found the key, and twisted the door open.

“Hello?” You called out, shutting the door behind you. The house was empty, it seemed. All the lights were turned off and no doors were opened.

“Henry!” You shouted out. Did he leave? You sighed, kicking off your shoes and heading up the stairs to your room. You didn’t blame him, he probably thought you were dead. Opening the door to your bedroom, you were going to just fall onto your bed, until you noticed a familiar face on your mattress.

“My love!” You whisper-screamed. He was definitely asleep. His eyes were shut and his hair was coming out of his bun. He must have forgotten to take it out again..

With a smile on your face, you crept into the bed, sitting down next to him. You ran your fingers through his soft, auburn hair. He was so beautiful. You could hear him mumble something, and you quickly removed your hand. His eyes fluttered open, his gaze looking around the room, until—

“Y/N..?” He murmured, slowly sitting up.

“Yes, Clerval?” You watched as his eyes lit up, and it seemed that colour had returned to his face. He immediately pulled you into an embrace, gripping onto you as tight as he could.

“Good heavens, where have you been?!” He asked.

“My boat got damaged, and I needed to make a new one,” you admit, “but I am back now, love.”

“And you shall never leave my sight,” he joked, “best that happens again.” The two of you chuckle to this, however you know he means it. You and Henry pull away from your hold, and now you could look at his face in better light. Even with you reanimating him earlier, he appeared quite ill. He had bags under his eyes, and his smile, whilst still loving, was more faint.

“My love,” you begin, “Why don’t I make you some breakfast? You seem rather famished.”

“No, no, you stay right here. I’ll make you something.”

“But—“

“Stay there. I’ll bring you a change of clothes as well.” You watched as he hopped off your bed, getting right to work. Maybe not that much has changed in seven months.

#frankenstein #frankenstein x reader #henry clerval #henry clerval x reader #please more henry x reader #im begging #lplsd #the modern prometheus

[a-boca-do-inferno]

trust, habits & displays of affection (david 8 x reader)

summary: David and (y/n) stray from the group while in LV-223.

warnings: slight swearing, fluff

words: 1.0k

notes: rly rly random thing idk. enjoy!

“Miss, are you sure this is the right path?” 

“Uh, yeah?”, (y/n) scoffed, stepping over a branch. “I remember this tree when we came, at least”, she then shrugged and patted the trunk on her right, the sound of the android’s very low chuckle making her smile to herself. 

Getting lost anywhere was already scary enough, but in another planet, it seemed like death was waiting in every turn they took. (y/n) tried to keep it cool, leading the way as if she knew exactly where they were going, but deep down she realized they could be in very serious danger if the night fell and they were still wandering through the forest. David’s even and rhythmic steps followed her around without a doubt, regardless, as if he trusted her to eventually find the rendezvous point where their crew had agreed to meet. He always found her to be extremely smart and competent, anyway, even though he never voiced these thoughts; finding the way back surely would be no difficult task for her. 

(y/n) abruptly stopped in her tracks when a sound came from the woods right to their side, making an oblivious David instantly accompany her movement, furrowing his pale brows. “Miss?”, he inquires, stepping forward to be on her side.  

“Shh”, she whispered, placing a finger on his lips while still looking at the direction of the noise. “Listen.” 

It was a deep, otherworldly growl, seemingly coming from very far away judging by the echo it made, and she felt a shiver go up her spine. Finally turning to face the android, (y/n) pulled him by the hand to the opposite way they were making up until that point, without another word. That was clearly a large animal and she wasn’t about to take her chances in facing it, no matter how advanced their weapons were. The creature also would probably not be alone and although David was quite strong, she wasn’t sure if he’d be able to fight them off basically by his own, seeing as her combat skills wouldn’t really be that useful. 

David accompanied her hurried steps with no resistance, still, however quietly confused by what went on in her mind at all, since the girl didn’t say anything. As they walked towards some sort of cave right next to a waterfall, he let himself continue to be dragged by her soft hand. He could easily break the contact and follow the flustered girl on his own, but something in him made sure he held on tight to her palm. It somehow soothed his own anxiety of what could happen in such an unpredictable situation, he reckoned, and so he’d grip her knuckles until she let go. 

“I think we better stay here for a while”, her voice pulls David out of his thoughts again. (y/n) stared at him with some strands of hair stuck to her face, and he held back from putting them in place. “I’m not sure how time works here, but maybe we should stay the night. It’s no use to keep walking in the dark, anyway, I don’t know”, she let out a deep, miserable sigh, running her fingers through her messy locks.  

“I agree”, David simply states, going inside the cave and sitting on the ground, keeping his posture upright as ever. The look on the girl’s face was almost comical as she mimicked his movements, making him suppress a smile. When she walked towards him to sit by his side, however, he noticed her limping. “Miss, are you alright?”, he sounded concerned, perhaps more concerned than he should be for a simple member of the crew. “Are you hurt?” 

“Maybe?”, she offered, thanking him under her breath when he stood up to help her sit down. “I didn’t feel anything until now, so I don’t know”, (y/n) then made a face when trying to move her foot, her ankle aching like nothing she ever felt before. “Fuck”, she leaned against the cave wall, closing her eyes for a second as the stinging pain lingered. 

David watched it all with a frown, promptly taking the med kit out of his backpack. He carefully lifted her cargo pants, exposing her wounded foot. It was all shades of purple and red, telling of her unawareness of it while they strolled to the cave. The girl’s agitated eyes observed his long fingers applying some sort of ointment around the sore area, caressing her skin with a cooling sensation. His movements were swift, majestic almost, and they caused her no adding pain at all as he finished his work.  

“Try not to move around and let the medicine take effect, it should be completely healed in a week”, his usual collected, technical tone is somewhat warm now and it makes her smile. David notices this, arching his expressive brows, “what?” 

“You would make a good doctor, you know?”, (y/n) gives him an amused look and he can’t help but grin a little. “Thank you”, she then touches his upper arm, giving it a squeeze while holding his gaze.  

David nods briefly, ever blunt. “It’s my job to keep you safe, miss.” 

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head slightly. “Stop with the ‘miss’ already, David, we’re friends.” 

“Old habits die hard”, he simply answers, and they exchange another long look. His bright orbs pay attention to every inch of her face, and the way her cheeks redden as he comes closer only urges him to keep staring at her expecting eyes. Their breath meets eventually, turning into one, and there is pause before their lips clash. The loud sound of the waterfall just outside seemed to be tuned out while her tongue made its way inside his mouth, dancing through every corner almost, painting his own with her saliva. His lengthy arms held her torso tightly, mindful of her injured foot, pulling her even closer to him. Air was needed, at last, and their lips still brushed against one another as David spoke softly, “(y/n)?” 

“Mm?”, she mumbles, eyes closed in sweet inebriation of the moment. 

“Now, are you going to stop with the ‘we’re friends’ already?” 

(y/n) could only laugh heartily, making a playful salute gesture before giving him a peck on the lips. “Yes, sir!” 

#david 8 x reader #prometheus x reader #michael fassbender x reader #michael fassbender #prometheus #david 8

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Wrath Akin To A God." Poly!DanBert X GN! Reader.

Okay! Here we are again! Another entry into Multi-May and this time it is Poly!DanBert! But not just ANY Poly!DanBert, mind you! This is for @applesontheground or Riri! She has this amazing fic called Your Own Prometheus, I am totally so into this fic, it is fucking amazing and I adore it so this fic is compliant with that, to the best of my ability anyway! Also Riri just graduated college and so this is a grad gift on top of that! So proud of you babe, seriously! Hope you all enjoy it too! Let’s goooo.

—

Rating. Explicit. Rating. 1.7K. Herbert West And Daniel Cain X GN! Reader.They/Them Pronouns. No Parts Specified. Poly!DanBert. Your Own Prometheus Verse. Warnings: Established Relationship. Violence. Gore. Blood. Assault. FIght. Struggle. Experimentation. Choking. Fighting. Reader And Herbert Are MEAN To Each Other. ManHandling. Semi-Bondage. Edging. Denial. Needy Reader. Desperation. Begging. Implied Threesome.

—

You thought you knew what you had been getting into when agreeing to help Dan and Herbert with their shared work and experiments. True, you have had some evenings of progress and minimal issues and those nights make you feel confident and like you know just what is going on, what to expect but then there are nights like this one, where every single fucking thing that could go wrong, did. Nights like this smack you upside the head and remind you mockingly while you are sprawled on the ground that no, you don’t know shit.

At first it was almost funny, the first thing that went wrong was you realised you’d put your scrub shirt on backwards, an action that was quickly corrected with a laugh and a shake of your head, no harm, no foul. After that you get into what you had begun to affectionately refer to as the “meat locker” and asked, what the plan was for that evening. It began with some note review, once Herbert was able to find the damn notes of course in the mess of paper that coated the table top, and tonight wasn’t going to be just theory it was going to be some real practice. A fresh body has been procured and that means thoughts can be put into action, ideas into hopeful reality.

When I say everything goes wrong, I do mean everything, from dropping instruments to missing veins over and over to the body spread out on the table getting up and attacking brutally, it was terrible. By the time said body was downed, mutilated, gutted, dead and harmless once again, the three of you were much worse off, blood splattered and heaving. 

The only sound is that of your heavy breathing and blood dripping, you are the one to break the silence, an old tired joke to break the ice, “That went well.” 

Dan exhaled amusedly, the back of his hand wiping over his forehead as he started to make a move to stand up. Herbert sighed as he stripped off his gloves and tossed them aside, the blue nitrile gloves proved to be no match for the torrent of scarlet, it paints the front of his scrub gown and has marked up the sleeves nearly to the elbows. 

“No one’s hurt so bad they need stitches so I’d say tonight’s gone better than it has previously.” Dan offers up and Herbert’s mouth flattens into an unimpressed line as he is stripping off the bloody garment, his outfit underneath is relatively unscathed. 

You start complaining, “That is all you gotta say after that mess Daniel? I mean that thing-” You gestured to the body near your feet, “-was choking Herbert out pretty aggressively and that hit you took to the face is definitely going to bruise.” 

Speaking of, you strode over, hands out and you are touching Dan, cradling his face, turning it to get a better look at the mark already forming, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll live.” You share a moment of eye contact and you know he is being genuine. Herbert’s voice cuts in, sounding annoyed that you weren’t checking in with him in the same fashion, “I’m fine too.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah I dunno about that.” 

Hands falling away from Dan you turn on your heel to look over across the room, “And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that anyone who keeps on subjecting himself and us to this regularly, clearly isn’t fine. This shit that keeps happening is all because of you and your grand ideas and that leaves me and Dan to clean up your mess-”

“Clean up MY mess?! As if I am the only one responsible?” He fires back and you assert, “Yes! I don’t know if you noticed but I am covered in blood right now because I managed to run the bastard through, while he was choking you out mind you, and save your sorry ass.”

Dan throws his hands up, stepping away, metaphorically washing his hands of the matter and leaving to allow you and Herbert to sort this out on your own. He was approaching you and you were moving in on him as the verbal throw down continued, “If I knew that it was going to be such an arduous chore for you I never would have let you help.” 

You laugh, “And if I knew one, how stupid you could be when so focused on your ‘work’, and two, how utterly insane, uncaring and unthinking you could be, I’d never have agreed to assist!” 

“You aren’t that good of an assistant.” His arms are crossed and you scoff, “With the nature of your work I don’t think you are allowed to be that picky Dr.West.” You say his name with an ample amount of venom. 

“Again, I’m not holding a gun to your head, I’m not making you help.” He says and you almost want to back down, when Herbert was angry he could be terrifying but you stand your ground and you tell him, “Right, but if I am not here helping you then you’ll end up like one of these freakshow experiments of yours.” 

“Oh so you really do care?” He mocks and you say, “Of course I fucking care! That is why I am so pissed off. You are just so blind! I can’t leave you alone or you’ll get yourself fucking killed but that doesn’t mean I can’t be stressed out or bitch about it.” 

You stepped away, your back to him, now in front of the table the body used to be on at the start of the night, hands on the cool edge you say, “Sometimes I wish I were the one on the table. I think if that were the case I’d have a hell of a lot less problems.” 

You don’t even hear him step up behind you, no, you feel him first. His hands meet your shoulders and he pushes you, half forcing you over the table, his body presses to yours. “You know, that could be arranged.” 

The breath is stolen from your lungs, mind awash with curiosity, it grabs hold as you pour over every potential possibility of just what he could be meaning, and you ask, “What?”

“You could be the one on the table, if you truly wanted to be, maybe you should be, I think it could be good for you.” 

A hard swallow, still unsure, you inquire, “You think?”

“I do, according to you I somehow, inexplicably, think too much or not enough.” One hand is on your hip and the other one is sliding up your body, coming to grip your throat, you can feel his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, goosebumps raise as he presses onward, “I think you don’t trust me enough and also, that you talk too much.”

“Who? Me?” You question and his hand squeezes your throat once before it slides to the back of your neck, he pushes hard, your body slams down onto the table, head turning, cheek to cold metal. “Yes. You. Constantly running your mouth, always scrutinising, judging, I’m sick of it. You are right, however, the subjects on this table don’t do much talking or thinking, maybe if we get you in a similar state you’ll be more compliant and agreeable.”

This had a certain appeal, unexpected, exciting, you throw one last question his way to drive home your point and push his buttons, “Think you are capable of such a feat Doctor?” 

In a half hour Dan is coming back downstairs, much cleaner and hopeful that you and Herbert had worked out your petty squabbling. He doesn’t hear any yelling which is a good sign, his sneakers hit the bottom step and then the sound of you crying out reaches his ears. His first thought is you and Herbert attempting another experiment solo and it going awry, “Shit.”

He curses and moves forward quickly, the door is thrown open and he expects to see another scene similar to earlier, to see gore and a fight and true while there is still blood smeared and a struggle going on it wasn’t of the variety he was counting on. You are bent over the table, half undressed, Herbert’s belt around your neck, wrapped twist around his hand. Your form is sweat slick and your whole body is taut, Herbert’s hand that wasn’t currently holding the belt, was below your waist. You were a complete mess and Herbert looked far too composed, all things considered.

The sound of the door slamming open has you looking up at the source of the sound, you look like you could cry, you beg, sounding totally pathetically desperate, “Dannn, help me, please?”

He comes into the room properly and asks, “Herbert what are you doing to them?”

“Nothing bad, just trying to instill a little respect and discipline, Daniel.” He says it simply, his hand still working and Dan asks, “And you are doing that by?”

“Edging them until they can’t talk.” He said easily and the response came over the chorus of your needy moans, pleasure cresting again and Herbert’s hand stopping once more, you groaned in frustration. Dan’s eyebrows raised and he asked,“I thought we liked it when they talked?”

“Not when all they add to the proceedings are complaints.” The tone Herbert spoke in, directly into your ear made you shiver, eyes falling closed, a stirring of your hips, a silent plea for him to continue, something he obliges. 

“Seems really mean Herb.” Dan says it but it doesn’t sound that serious, his eyes are roving over your body, you feel vulnerable and exposed, insanely turned on, “So you don’t want to join in? I have to say this experiment so far is proving to be quite fruitful.” 

You hoped he would give in, that he would show mercy, so you implore him, “He-help, c’mon, Dan-”

Herbert mocked you with a sadistic grin, tugging on the belt, “Yeah, c’mon Dan, look how needy they are.” 

It is true, you don’t think you have ever been needier, you are approaching the edge once more and Hebert rips his hand away, leaving you hanging on the edge and you sob, tears threaten to spill down your cheeks as you whine and how is he meant to resist you like this? 

Dan knocked Herbert’s hand out of the way and he took over, his touch firm and right where you needed it, making you gasp out, “Tha-thank you”

“I gotta say, I’ll take this over you two fighting any day.” 

#Poly!DanBert #YOP #Your Own Prometheus #Poly!DanBert x reader #slasher x reader #Multi-May #BHF writing #ENJOYYYY

[aphroditeslover11]

Who ever thought that giving the world Cillian Murphy in uniform was fair? How am I meant to settle for an ordinary man after this?!

#oppenheimer #american prometheus #cillian murphy #1950s #oppenheimer x reader #cillian murphy x reader #christopher nolan #j robert oppenheimer #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #a man in uniform

[applesontheground]

your own prometheus 💉

CHAPTER SEVEN something inside your head | AO3

small sidenote: this photo makes me cackle every time i see it and i’m including it in this.

SFW | Word Count: 4,245 | Herbert West x GN Reader x Daniel Cain

contains canon typical/gore, beginnings of the Angst

⬅ continued from like minds broken, like minds breaking free ➡ continued in robbing me of my rightful chances 🔁 start at the beginning with letting me in or letting me go

He was starting to get déjà vu from what he saw: three friends in the lobby of a hospital, two in white coats and one holding a stack of papers. Every time he seemed to stumble on it, the moods were shifting. Less stiff upper lips, blank glances when one of the others talked. This time, everyone stood a little bit closer together. One of them even laughed.

The courier’s lips turned upwards as [he/she/they] looked away from the man on [his/her/their] right, and he could almost hear the scoff under [his/her/their] breath that came out in the form of a jerk of [his/her/their] body, finally opening their mouth to speak to the taller man on the left.

“Dan, can you believe that?”

“Well, you’ve been staring at those three for long enough.” Graves idled down the hall, seeing Dyer turn with an expression of stale bemusement. The officer shook his head as he muttered, “I don’t know what to make of [Y/N]. [He/she’s / They’re] still friends with those two after everything I’ve been trying to get at. We can’t talk about it out loud, but I mean… [Y/N] lives with them, and can’t sense that murderous intent?” Graves furrowed his brow as Dyer continued, “The unattainable urges coming off them?” He gave Dan another stare, seeing how he looked down at the courier with a fond smirk, hands in his pockets as he fawned over them continuing to laugh at a joke that had long passed the moment. He corrected himself, “Off of West, anyways.”

The pathologist gave him a doubtful huff, but the man went on, “I mean that, they were caught doing unspeakable things here, and now thanks to a few redacted notes they have jobs again after a short stint in Peru. If only [he/she/they] had any idea what West and Cain were capable of. What atrocities probably take place in that house they all share, and somehow [he’s/she’s / they’re] none the wiser.”

“I saw you eating peanut butter straight out of the jar last night. Care to explain yourself?” You looked up from the papers in your arm, seeing Dan give that look that was half joking and half serious in his interrogation. Before you could even consider changing the subject, you sniffed dryly, “Oh yeah? When would you have seen me do that?”

Herbert spoke almost like he was reimagining it, watching movement in the lobby rather than zeroing in on you; that was what Dan seemed to be there for. “2 AM. We both saw you do it, so don’t try to play the hypothetical.”

You started squinting at the taller of them with returned eye contact, “Well, what were you guys doing up so late?” Dan ignored the question and muttered quietly, keeping it gentle with the tone despite nitpicking, “That jar was bought for everyone in the house. Not just for you to eat plain at ungodly hours.” You stifled another wince, trying to keep your expression relaxed while Herbert chastised in your other ear, “You didn’t even look like you were awake while doing it.”

You rolled your eyes, then slowly asked, “…Have you also been eating the-“

“No, we haven’t been eating the peanut butter, [Y/N].” Dan interrupted you, shaking his head while you cringed at his tone, but he finally smirked in a way like he couldn’t believe what he was saying while you merely bit back laughter, glancing between him and the other one as everyone finally just let the subject go, the humor in it coming as a quaint comfort. Normalcy felt like a good fit, even when temporary – and over a rather embarrassing habit of yours on top of that.

It was strange to have a quiet night at the house where not only Dan was upstairs sharing the space with you, but Herbert as well. They both took the sofa, the mess of textbooks splayed out on the coffee table while you were in the chair on the other side of the living room, stretched out with your back against one arm and your legs dangling over the other. Unconventional, but in character, as Herbert had observed aloud when he came to join you.

It would’ve put you on edge to be with them for reasons relating to their research if you weren’t sidetracked from what you had nearly walked in on the night before. Still, it didn’t really change much about your feelings towards either of them the more you thought about it. Herbert still scared the hell out of you, and Dan… well, he was Dan. You couldn’t bring yourself to be cold with him, even if he was having something under wraps while making advances with you simultaneously. Again, the ability anything had to surprise you was drawing thinner and thinner in each passing day.

The relationship did make what was between the two of you confusing, though. You had spent all of the last few weeks considering your feelings for him, but now you were just lost on it as a whole once again. Even sitting there, you figured that keeping not just him, but both of them at arm’s length was more of a necessary tactic than something you wanted to do.

Still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t socialize. The house was definitely big enough for the three of you, and avoiding each other would be another battle. Plus, gave you a decent alibi with them: stay in sight, no need for constant interrogations on who you were talking to or where you could’ve gone. At least, in your own head it all made sense. Enough to keep you idly drawing while a fierce wind blew outside, clouds hiding a nearly full moon and making the world appear dark beyond the porch of what once was a mortuary.

What were you supposed to do about the little that you understood about these two? Tell someone? Hide out in your bedroom all day? The reality of what went on behind closed doors – both regarding the mystery of the missing body parts and the mystery of Dan and Herbert – were Dan and Herbert’s burden to bear, and not yours if you could manage that much.

“Oh, by the way,” You took the scissors sitting under your sketchbook, starting to shear out one of your pages, “Herbert, I redrew a diagram from your notebook that you left out the other day. Might as well just give it to you now so I don’t find my things in the basement again.” He gave you a surprised glance from over the book as you leaned slightly from the chair, tossing the sheet you had just severed onto the coffee table. Both men’s eyes settled with it, and Dan’s expression solidified with a light, petrified clench of his jaw as he murmured, “You drew that?”

“I can only stare at the pictures you two have laying around so much before wanting to take inspiration.” You scoffed as Herbert held up the page, mulling over it. “If anyone would understand that I’d think it’d be you two.”

“[Y/N], that’s really well done and all, but you shouldn’t be-“ Dan began, and Herbert suddenly cut him off, “It’s good.” It made you smirk a little, heat blanketing your face as he continued to stare, and even observed, “You have a remarkable handle on anatomy despite not being in the profession, [Y/N].” Dan gave you another bothered glance, and you shrugged at him. Part of you just wanted to spit it out, I’m doing my best to make myself useful around here, but you saved it as Herbert then set it down and asked, “If I gave you another, would you…?”

Perking up again, you inhaled to answer and Dan was now interrupting, “Maybe another time. [Y/N] has other projects she’s working on.” He paused, giving you another look. “Right?”

“…Right.” You once again gave the hold both of them had on your attention slack, and sat back in your position on the chair, its arm digging into your spine as you shifted your eyes back down to see you had idly began trimming another page. The eyeball that you had drawn was perfectly sheared down the middle, two halves of the pupil staring up at you from your book and the other from the coffee table in silent question.

“And then I tell them, That arrest record was nulled before I was born. How the hell could I get it for you? What do I look like, the necromancer of paperwork!?” You joked to the receptionist, smiling as they snickered in reply. Little things were what made you able to traverse the days, even though sleep was dwindling down to a few hours a night. The rest of those long hours between sunset and sunrise were devoted to listening to the house settle and tearing your own idea of your roommates apart in your mind’s apparitions of them rather than try to find solace in a quiet room without the hints of human agony and confused fighting seeping through the vents.

A nurse suddenly stopped in front of you and the counter, half in a hurry but willing to pause on her route to ask a question. “Hey, do either of you have your key card on you? I left mine back in the main offices on the fourth floor, need to get into a room down here.”

“Oh, absolutely. Here, le-“ You had pulled out your ID card from its usual home in your shirt’s pocket, giving it a split second scan before dropping it back in while neither of them had the chance to see it emerge. “Huh, I-I…I might not actually have it.” You then lied in the same breath, hand slapping your chest in a fabricated search for it, “Sorry, ma’am.”

The nurse huffed, “Darn, really? Well, no big deal. Thanks.” As she trotted off, already asking someone else for help and leaving your saccharine expression to wither, you turned to look down the hall as though what you wanted to scorn would come striding your way at the mere glance.

Not today, though, leaving you to vent your frustration in the form of a tedious sigh and a walk along to the doors. It wasn’t even a panicked sort of realization that he had taken something from you anymore, and rather you jumped right to where it could be. Something was starting to erode in your headspace from the constant worry, the knowledge you wished you didn’t have, and what took its place was beginning to get a clue.

You jiggled the handle to the basement door, the usual inability to turn failing you as your eyes widened and the door started to move. When it wasn’t in the usual state of eternally locked, it was rather loose and quick to hinge inwards. Before taking another step forward, you called down the stairs, “Herbert? Dan?”

When nothing came back up, not even a sound that indicated someone was there, you looked back down the hall and paused to listen in towards the kitchen and living room. When there wasn’t anything besides a single bird calls from outside the walls, you finally slipped past the doorframe and took the first step downwards.

You couldn’t remember which intestine this was from your plethora of anatomy classes that you had back in grade school. Speculating casually was the only way you could keep your screams to yourself, almost holding your breath as you felt the sweat start to bead against your forehead and really processed that it was a human-sized organ sitting out in the open. First the arm, then the…guy, and now this. It wasn’t necessarily worse than what you had faced previously, but still not a discovery that made you feel fuzzy on the inside.

“[Y/N].” Your body started to turn towards the voice before your eyes could take themselves from the table, but finally you sent a wary expression up at Herbert as he stood at the top of the stairs, watching you remain silent and not try to evade him or what you had walked into.

You should’ve been terrified. Ignoring the way the organ gleamed under the faulty lights made your stomach flip, you then turned your body to fully face the man and crossed your arms. “Something of mine is missing. I assumed it would be here.” You murmured, your voice somehow remaining stern despite the sickly waiver coming in and out. Herbert replied, “What are you talking about?” He didn’t look away as he finished traversing down the stairs, eyeing the scene just behind you once before fixating back onto you, “I can’t believe I’m asking this again, but how did you get down here?”

You shrugged, struggling to trust the sound of your own answer: “Someone left the door unlocked. Usually, I need a special clearance to find myself in a place I shouldn’t be, but…” You trailed off, being the first to look away from him now as you went on, “My work I.D. went missing.”

“Are you accusing me of taking it?” Herbert asked without missing a beat, and your jaw slacked under your pursed lips. You hadn’t even said anything yet, and it was all you needed to hear as you uncrossed your arms, fingers worming into your shirt pocket to pull out the card you had laid eyes on earlier.

“I have reason to believe so.” You simply stated, holding the I.D. between your index and middle fingers so he could see his own disgruntled photo staring back at him. “Any reason we’re playing games today, Dr. West?”

He glared at the use of the title, making you bite back a grin as you held it out to him. Still an island away, the space between where he stood at the foot of the steps and where you remained by the metal table was an eternity of a wavering silence. One that wouldn’t last, and sure didn’t sit soundly between your tight gaze and his smothering glare. He took the card with a quick sleight of hand, careful not to ghost over your own fingers while doing so. Even you pulled your hand back a little too quickly when releasing your grip, still looking on expectantly.

“You have an abnormal amount of access to the hospital. It was necessary to a greater interest.” He stated, as if that would even be close to touch the surface of what you were trying to fathom. You stepped a half inch to the side, body turning halfway between him and the organ before the both of you. “This was the greater interest?” You clarified, and he merely rolled his eyes.

Like a snake rearing to strike, he then stood a little taller and scrutinized, “You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t know why I thought you would.” Although you had felt that comment, you let it bounce off of you for the time, eyes trailing down before catching on the innards one last time. Part of you suddenly shot forward in the form of words, chin tipping back up. “Well, I’m more than willing to stay out of it,” You agreed, ignoring a twilight of disappointment that shone through a sour frown and a slight tilt of his head. You then insisted, “but despite that, I’m not leaving without getting that key card back.” You scoffed, “You seem to have forgotten that I spend so much time at Miskatonic, it’s practically an asset to my commute.”

He then asked, “What are you going to do with such an extensive authority to the hospital?” You replied, “Nothing, I just do what I need to-”

“Liar.”

Your eyes snapped wide at the interruption, “You’re the liar!” You turned back around, and feeling the anger crawling in your throat you asked, “W-whose guts are these? Sherman Robinson’s? The body that came walking up these fucking stairs a couple nights ago?” You pointed to the staircase again, “The missing cadaver from the hospital that you and Dan supposedly know nothing about?”

Herbert didn’t waiver as you stepped closer, almost nose to nose as you added, “I might show up where I shouldn’t sometimes, but you’ve been the one taking my notebooks…my key cards, my work.” You laughed, “And the last I checked, I haven’t laid a damn finger on any of your stolen body parts unless I needed to stop it from trying to tear me a new one. The most I’ve done is…” You stopped, then recalled with a slightly horrified ring to your voice, “…Bring that vial home from Pathology.”

Herbert’s stare became less abrasive, watching you start to falter in your fury. You finally swallowed the distaste in your tone and repeated, “Look. I do apologize for intruding, but I had my reasons. Just give me the key card back. I…I’ll leave you to your business, you can-“

“[Y/N], how can either of us deny your interest? You said that you wanted answers.” The venom was absent from his tone now, and you once again met eyes with him, any arrogance slipping down the drain of your disposition in place of the standard unassuming muteness. He tipped his head, gesturing towards the table, “Here. Everything you’ve been wanting to know is right here if only you took a second to really look.” You were locked in place for another pause as he turned, but he didn’t start to walk until you followed, staring over his shoulder as you motioned to move.

You stood on one side, the one with the most distance from the intestine. He eyed it, like you weren’t even there watching as he then moved towards a bag sitting on a stool towards the back of the room. There were a few different areas of the basement, ones you hadn’t even begun to look into. Usually, what you saw on the first side of the room was enough for you. Your eyes flickered to the stairs, wondering if you’d ever leave but then disregarding the thought when a neon flash of green caught your eyes.

“This is what gives me the leeway. The essence of kinetic energy, enough proteins to disturb even the deepest of our eternal sleep.” Herbert explained, the vial in one hand and a syringe in another. He stuck the needle into the thin cap, and the light moved from one vessel to the other.

Your brow furrowed, shook from the pressure as you looked from what he was doing to his face again. “Well, what are you going to do?” You asked.

Herbert gave you a careful look, chin tipped towards the table as he pointed the needle towards the intestine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

His eyes then darted behind you, and before you could turn an iron grip going around your torso scared you into mustering the energy to breathe, and you did so in a gutted yelp, “Dan-!”

He didn’t answer, only hoisting you to walk backwards and up the stairs again. “Goddamn it, Herbert, I told you-“ He spoke between grappling you, doing your best to keep up with where he wanted you to walk with a glance over your shoulder, “Not to bring [him/her/them]- Into this-“ He turned his body, swiveling you like a ragdoll and making your feet knock against the stairs. You cried, “Ow, hey-!“

He set you on your feet, knees wobbling as you gained your balance. “[Y/N]-” He attempted to speak to you now but lost his words as you braced the wall in front of you, pulling back from him with wide eyes.

Both of you were silent, staring into each other’s ghastly expressions. It was home, it was solidarity; the feelings you got from his shivering exhale was enough to make you plead, “How many times will I have to ask you what’s going on down there?” You couldn’t help the next question, Dan trying to talk but being drowned out by the utter shock in your voice, “Is that what the hospital doesn’t want to talk about?”

“A mishandling of it is what they won’t speak of. Not done by me, nor by Dan, mind you.” Herbert answered, stepping out from the dark and closing the basement door behind him. He shot an irritated glance at the other man, “We have a much better understanding of it now. Having done more trials, I’ve spent most of my time not at work working towards something more docile, manageable.”

“It will never be manageable, Herbert!” Dan yelled, throwing an arm at the door and becoming irate, “You’ve been working with the re-agent for goddamn years at this point and it’s always been this…big, violent mess!”

Re-agent, you mouthed with a long look at the door. The words were there, pulling forth the definitions but not cultivating any sort of sense. That green serum was an agent for…Rejuvenating? Repurposing? The word was on the tip of your tongue, but you were pulled back in with Dan turning towards you again.

“[Y/N], I don’t tell you this to keep you in the dark, or to confuse you, alright? I tell you this to protect us- You.” Herbert and you both caught that, gnawing on your bottom lip to repress the look of disbelief you wanted to pull as he stammered, “You don’t know what kind of damage that research can do to someone, believe me. I’ve been…helping Herbert for awhile now, and it’s-“

“What, damaged you?” Herbert scoffed, “You’ve been just as ingrained within this work and mad for the truths of the re-agent as I have, Daniel.” Dan gave him a signal with his face, one you missed as he turned away from you, but guessing from the way it silenced the other man you figured it wasn’t nice.

He turned back to you, and lowered his voice, “It’s confusing, and I’ve seen it hurt people before. People who…don’t know what to do with the findings, and i-it’s…torn things apart.” He looked you straight in the eyes, almost gutting you as he then repeated himself, “Torn people apart.”

You felt the posture of the man standing beside him change again, just like it had when you had spoken about Pathology. Before anything else could be said, Dan made a beeline for the living room, walked straight through and out of sight.

Herbert then walked by at a slower pace, and you averted his stare until he finally held your card out to you. Silent, you took it, not caring that your clammy hands had slid past his fingertips while doing so this time. He uncomfortably straightened his posture, but caused you to look up again as he assured you, “He’s seen a lot in our trials, [Y/N]. You did nothing wrong in simply being curious.”

As he left you with that and also walked down the hall, you leaned against the wallpaper to your back and stared at the basement door. You slid the I.D. card into your pocket, and with a deep breath went to the closet where you hung your coat.

You weren’t upset, but something had snapped with how messy Dan’s insistence had been. He didn’t want to tell you? He didn’t let Herbert tell you? That was how it was going to be, and although it hurt more than you had once anticipated it would when it came down to it, you found that you could live with that – but you couldn’t live with being so goddamn confused any more.

Lucky for you, answers were easy to find for someone who pushed the papers.

A part of you felt as though you were betraying everything you had stood for up until now, the very notion that you had left without telling either of them enough of a nonverbal betrayal to signal to them you were not to be trusted from this night on, but you pressed the worry down as you walked the halls of Miskatonic. You were off the clock, and here at a time where both Dan and Herbert weren’t, but you knew who was working.

He was slimy, he gave you all sorts of pins and needles with how he spoke…but he could be of use after what you had nearly seen. Dyer was in the lobby, speaking to a doctor with a hand resting on his hip as he spoke with that smirk that sent a nasty rush down your spine. When he saw you standing on the other side of the waiting room, he nearly lit up. “Courier, never thought I’d see you here after hours. Must have gotten the guts to come looking for something.” Bile pricked your throat at that choice of word, but you remained stock still as he supposed, “I’m guessing Cain and West are giving you the ol’ smoke and mirrors, not telling you what they’ve done or what they could do?”

You didn’t answer that, uncomfortably swallowing as you reminded him, “You said you had something to show me.”

His grin fell, and he swooned in a relieved tone, “Atta [boy/girl/do it].” He walked to the closest corridor, and with a slide of his own keycard opened the door to Pathology for you, letting you step into the dark room before closing it behind the both of you.

“Sure Graves won’t mind us in here.” He assured you, but it brought nothing of the sort to your throbbing headache.

#herbert west x reader x daniel cain #poly!danbert x reader #herbert west x reader #daniel cain x reader #slasher x reader #your own prometheus #✏️ #💉 #ohh i've been waiting for this moment for a long while now #v excited for the next couple chapters and dealing with #the fucking inability for these two stupids to admit they spend their free time committing crimes #without like. the weird monologues or bursting into tears #i love them so fucking much

[awearywritersworld]

i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend

sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist

"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.

"i'll pass."

sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.

"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"

"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."

"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."

"it's gotten me this far."

you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.

making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."

he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus

you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.

"what's it about?"

"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."

"your subtly never ceases to amaze."

"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."

he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"

you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"

"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."

he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.

clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.

he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.

"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.

your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."

"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"

"not if you're cheating, now let me see."

"no."

you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.

swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.

with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"

you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."

"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"

you gasp. "so you admit it?"

"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.

"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"

he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."

"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.

he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.

sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.

leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).

"please?" you repeat.

he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.

sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?

no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"

grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.

when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.

"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."

"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."

you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.

"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."

he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"

sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."

yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"

"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."

"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"

"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.

"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."

"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."

"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.

"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"

yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.

sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."

his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.

but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.

you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.

you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.

"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.

"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.

"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.

yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.

once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"

"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."

when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.

he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.

around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.

he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."

you finally turn to face him. "really?"

"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."

"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off."

you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"

"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."

you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"

"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.

"wait. please don't go."

just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.

when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.

"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."

are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.

moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.

he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.

you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.

well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.

"then why are you upset with me?"

his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."

"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"

"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."

he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?

he probably deserves it anyway.

why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?

oh, right. because you care about him.

you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.

once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.

with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.

so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.

it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.

and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.

it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.

he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.

his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.

your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.

he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.

when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."

he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"

his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."

ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.

upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."

he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.

you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.

"sukuna?"

he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"

you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"

"no reason."

"did you enjoy it?"

"yes."

"why?"

he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"

you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."

"and the creature?"

"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."

you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."

and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:

"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”

his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.

you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.

"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"

"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."

he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."

"and you didn't care for it?"

"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."

your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"

"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."

your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"

he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.

"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."

"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.

he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."

you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.

he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."

he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.

"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"

sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.

"no," he answers decidedly.

looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.

he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.

is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.

"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.

his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.

for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.

he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?

his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"

you tilt your head to the side. "why?"

"because even if it's made me into a monster..."

for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—

"all of my actions have led me to you."

your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.

you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.

as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."

a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3

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