New painting, yaay! And it's Kirsh and Kumi Morrow fanart for Alien: Earth! Yaay! I like to think that after Morrow is squeezed unconscious from Kirsh's sleeper hold, the synth takes a few moments to observe the cyborg closely. Oooohhh~~!! (O.O) ! ♥
Ok talvez não seja nada mas, Justified agora tem seu link oficial no tiktok e a Fx voltou a fazer posts com o Timothy. Eu ainda tenho esperança para uma nova temporada.
Mean Kirsh (sorta) x Fem!Reader: You've been saying yes to so much work, so much responsibility that it's overwhelmed you, and left you making mistakes, much to Kirsh's frustration.
What happens when your synthetic counterpart suggests a slightly unconventional means of letting out your frustration...
(Or, You and Kirsh get into a physical fight in the lab.)
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Naturally, this fic contains: violence, fighting, mentions of blood and injury (light?), mental health, anger issues, angst with a soft ending.
(If I have missed a tag please let me know!)
-Enjoy!
I Can Take It
You were your own worst enemy when it came to your work. Always saying yes, always accepting workloads despite already trying to balance so much, and yet you remained stoic due to the constant praise sent your way.
You are so hardworking
How do you manage to do it all?
You are the best at your job, I trust you more with this.
You managed to complete all that in two days? That would have taken me two weeks!
But it was all a mask. An illusion at this point, as you were starting to feel weary, and your patience waning thin with each new task, each new report, each new practical lab task. You knew you should have felt proud to be trusted by so many with so much, but it started to feel like you were being used, and taken advantage of. That all the praise about your hardy work ethic was merely a cover up from your colleagues to dump more unwanted work on you.
You didn’t even contemplate mentioning anything to Kirsh, or Dame during your bi monthly one to one meetings. Personally, you felt it a waste of time away from the lab, being asked questions about how you felt the work environment was, how it could be improved blah blah blah.
Even if you did mention something about being overburdened, nothing would change. Prodigy had a skill as a business in pretending to be forward thinking, and caring about their staff, when in reality, if you didn’t keep up, you were shipped out. And you didn’t want that. Despite your recent workload increase, you couldn’t think of life without the facility, without the people and synthetics surrounding you, the work you contributed to.
And so, you were currently stuck in a rut of frustration and exhaustion, which was inevitably going to lead to some sort of crash out. It was only a matter of time, or indeed the right circumstance for it all to implode...
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Kirsh looked down from the observation room and into the lab beneath, his eyes scanning across the multiple benches where his lab staff worked away on their allotted tasks. Each of the little cogs working in tandem to keep the bigger machine ticking over. That was how Kirsh needed his labs to run, precise, to the letter, and without issue.
“Sir, we have a missing key report from Tuesday that should have been submitted.” One of the lab staff called from his desk and over to Kirsh.
Kirsh turned around and frowned at him before sauntering over, hands fed into his pockets as he rounded the desk and looked over the staff’s shoulder and at the terminal screen. Sure enough, a quarter of your report was missing. This made Kirsh visibly frown. You never missed out information, you were always thorough and careful in handling documents and reports. There must have been some sort of mistake.
“I’ll investigate. Continue with the other reports.” Kirsh instructed as he stood upright and made his way out of the observation room and down to the lab.
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Kirsh walked through the heavy duty doors into the lab, and nodded as several staff members looked up from their work to acknowledge his presence. All except yourself. Kirsh didn’t rush to your bench, he slowly walked up to you, observing your form, hunched over, head moving from side to side as you observed what was in front of you, clearly attuned to the work at hand. He quietly came to a stop adjacent to your bench, and looked as your nitrile gloved hands worked at dissecting the shed tissue samples from one of the specimens in the secure containment facility. He allowed you a moment to finish up cutting through a particularly paper thin section of the shed before talking.
“I need a moment of your time.” Kirsh said, despite his quiet and soft tone, he still watched you noticeably jump at his presence.
“Not right now, I have to get this sorted and then move on to-“
“Now.” Kirsh interrupted you, watching you frown and visibly struggle to contain your frustration.
“I have so much to do right now Kirsh, can’t this wait?” You asked through gritted teeth, imploring for him to understand you couldn’t quite spare ‘a moment of your time’, not for him, not even for yourself.
Kirsh clasped his hands in front of him, remained silent, and tipped his head to the side. It was a familiar tactic he employed, he was no longer asking you, he was instructing you. It was pointless to argue with a synth, despite their obedience, they were stubborn and weren’t exactly in the nature to back down.
“fucksake.” You breathed outwardly in frustration as you practically wrenched off your gloves with a snap before tossing them into the clinical waste bin beside your bench. “Make this quick.” You huffed as you pushed out of your seat with a loud scrape and marched past Kirsh towards the doors.
Kirsh watched you, his eyes narrowing at the back of you as you walked away from him and out into the hallway from the lab. He followed you outside, and observed your stance; arms folded, hands gripping onto your biceps, brow furrowed, lips tight, no doubt chewing the inside of your mouth into a bloody mess.
You are seething with anger Kirsh noted.
“So what is it?” You asked, a tad snippier than intended, but alas you had been pulled away from your work.
Kirsh regarded you curiously before exhaling and softly responding.
“Your report from Tuesday is incomplete.” He stated. “It requires a second submission.”
“That’s wrong. I filled out my report in full.” You argued without hesitation. “I even signed and dated it.”
“Well you must have imagined that part, as the report stands, it is marked as incomplete.” Kirsh corrected.
“This is ridiculous.” You shook your head and smiled in frustration. A strange habit humans had Kirsh thought, much like animals, ape like even, baring teeth despite feeling intense frustration rather than happiness.
“I require a re-submission by the end of the day, alongside your report from today’s work also.” Kirsh said, cutting off your whispered expletives.
“That’s impossible.” You said, rubbing your eyes, raw and weary from staring at data pads, terminals screens, reports, masses of skin samples and flesh for hours on end.
“That’s the way it works.” Kirsh shrugged.
That was when Kirsh saw it. A flicker of anger as your eyes met his, your hands squeezing into fists at either side of you and your jaw clenching tightly. He had never seen you this way, and it intrigued him. You felt your chest tighten, similar in the way that one would feel when trying to supress tears, that uncomfortable hot and tight feeling inside of you. It wasn’t Kirsh’s fault you were angry, not entirely, but he wasn’t helping the gnawing sensation of anger eating away at you as he stood in front of you.
Look at you. You want to hurt me…Kirsh thought to himself as he observed your demeanour.
“Fine.” You suddenly swallowed and sighed, shaking your head. “Whatever you say Kirsh, I will have it re-submitted alongside the report for today.”
Kirsh didn’t verbally respond, which stoked your frustration a tad further.
“Now can I go? I have a mountain of things to get through.” You grunted without waiting for Kirsh’s permission to leave the conversation, as you pushed past him to head back inside the lab.
Kirsh didn’t follow you, his mind was still trained on the thought of you wanting to lash out at him in frustration. It was so unlike you, which fascinated Kirsh all the more.
Naturally, having to re-write and re-submit your report from Tuesday followed by your report for the current day’s work, you were the last one in the lab. You felt personally stung each time a colleague would say goodbye and leave through the doors, depleting the room until it was just you and your data pad and terminal.
As you were midway through your second report, your data pad chimed, and you peered at the notification.
Work Schedule Adjustment:
-Meeting at 0500 to discuss specimen A-3 movement to container C
-Non-Negotiable attendance.
-Signed: Atom Eins
-Co-Signed: Chief Science Officer : Kirsh
You looked at the digital clock in the corner of your data pad, and felt your heart drop that the time now was close to 1am, leaving you with four hours before having to attend a meeting. Suddenly, your mind felt so overwhelmed, there was so much to do, so many unfinished tasks, and so many people depending on you, trusting you to continuously do a good job.
That’s the way it works. Kirsh’s words from before echoed into your mind, and you felt a wave of frustration overcome you.
“Where is your report?” Kirsh’s voice startled you, and you huffed out an expletive as you saw him standing idle in the middle of the lab between the walkway through the rows of benches.
“I’m almost finished.” You said, swallowing back your frustration and attempting to remain calm despite reading over a notification about a meeting you could have done without.
“It was due hours ago.” Kirsh said matter of factly.
Your hands paused, hovering atop of the keyboard and you hung your head low. Already your patience was on thin ice, and Kirsh was about to break right through it.
“Kirsh. I have a lot on my plate, I would appreciate it if you just backed off.” Your voice was stern, and wavered slightly as your frustration seeped through.
“That’s your fault, not mine.”
“My fault?” You huffed incredulously, turning around to glare at Kirsh, who continued to stand nonchalantly between the benches.
“You have just as much power to say no, to tell me when you are over encumbered.” Kirsh scalded you lightly, as if you were being childish.
You bit your tongue, literally bit into it to hold yourself from erupting with anger. You were too tired, too overworked, and entirely not in the mood to entertain Kirsh’s snarky behaviour. Kirsh watched as you inhaled deeply, shakily, head lowered down still as if to calm yourself.
“You’re an idiot.” Kirsh then broke the silence, and it made you go wide eyed as you looked at him.
“You’ve taken on so much, said yes to too much, and now you’re choosing to supress your frustrations.” Kirsh anylised. “It’s an idiotic approach to handling things. It’s why you’re making mistakes-”
"Enough Kirsh!"
You suddenly swiped your arm across the desk, sending items atop of it crashing down onto the floor, the sound noisily echoing throughout the lab. You paced, huffing and panting, trying to calm down and yet you felt something had cracked open inside of you, something that couldn’t be stopped.
“Look at what bottling all this anger up has done.” Kirsh continued, kicking aside a desk tidy with his sneaker.
“Kirsh!” You snapped, raising a hand out to him from behind you. “Just…just stop.”
“You’re making mistakes. Stupid mistakes.” Kirsh said, stepping closer to you. "You're lashing out, losing control. All because you can't say no. You don't want to dissappoint others, even if it tears you apart-"
“Kirsh, shut up!” You whirled around and glared at the synth, eyes glistening with tears of anger, at yourself, at this horrible feeling of hatred inside of you, how you wanted to hurt Kirsh even though not all of what he was saying was untrue.
You had taken on more than you could
You could have said no to it all but you didn’t
You didn’t want to seem weak or lazy or unwilling to work
You didn’t want to disappoint your colleagues, your bosses, Kirsh
And now, you were suffering in silence.
“You are a mess.” Kirsh said, now only several feet apart from you, eyes darting to your hands, balled up once more as you stared into the synth’s scrutinizing features.
The room went silent, the atmosphere was thick with tension as you and Kirsh stared down one another, like animals willing the other to make the first move to lock horns. Your chest rose and fell, laboured with frustration as you attempted to calm and regulate yourself, but it was a losing battle as you felt affronted by Kirsh’s goading.
“Leave.” Was all you said. “Leave me alone. Right now.” You warned.
Kirsh huffed a smirk, amused and mocking.
“You think you get to make demands? After such a poor performance?” Kirsh mused. “I don’t think so.”
“Kirsh, I’m warning you. Get out or-“
“Or what?” Kirsh cut you off. “What are you going to do?” He asked, and part of him was curious to see if you were going to verbalise your intentions.
Clearly not.
“Hit me.” Kirsh said. “If we’re doing this, then do it. I can take it.” Kirsh whispered.
Finally, you gave in to your anger.
You swung out, fist first into Kirsh’s jaw, staggering him a little. You paused for a moment to absorb what you had just done. You had punched Kirsh. You looked him over, eyes wide as you spotted the faint hint of circulatory fluid leaking from the corner of his mouth.
“Good.” Kirsh straightened and strode towards you. “Keep going.”
"Kirsh, wait this is stupid-"
You lashed out to keep Kirsh at a distance, but he grabbed your forearm and tossed you across the bench, sending you crashing to the floor amongst the fallen items from the terminal. He knew your limits, he knew how much he intended to push you, and he truthfully wanted only to rile you into a frenzy in order to purge every last ounce of frustration you had been bottling up.
And it seemed to be like pouring gasoline on a fire given your reaction to being tossed over the desk unceremoniously and hitting the ground. In retaliation, as Kirsh lifted the desk to the side with ease, you grabbed the keyboard that had clattered onto the cold floor, and slammed it across the synth’s side, sending key caps flying out in every direction like fireworks. Kirsh quickly seized you by the arms, and you glowered at him, teeth bared, nose scrunched, tears of frustration streaming down your face.
Look at you, you're nothing more than an animal, angry and upset. Kirsh mused to himself as he gripped you, crushing you under his hands.
He tossed you again, this time you landed beside one of the chairs to a bench, which you picked up and hurtled at Kirsh. The synth covered his arms over his head whilst the chair bounced off him, the leg briefly connecting with his temple. Kirsh marched towards you, and dodged several of your punches with ease before grabbing your wrists in one hand and your jaw with the other. Through your tears of anger, you looked at Kirsh’s face, and to the two-inch cut above his eye, now leaking circulatory fluid into his lashes. Your anger ebbed for a moment, and Kirsh caught it, the way your eyes widened with fear at what you had done to him, what your anger had led to.
“K-Kirsh I’m…I’m sorry”
“I told you, I can take it.” Kirsh said and shook your jaw in his hand, jostling you as if to re-shake your anger back into your system. His thumb smeared at your lip, sampling the tiny weep of a cut upon it. “Keep going. There’s more in you, I know it. And I intend to purge you of it all.”
Kirsh shook and squeezed your face one too many times, and it worked in whipping your anger back up into a frenzy, perhaps a little too well as you shoved your head forward and into Kirsh’s nose. Immediately you could feel the warm, wet feeling of his circulatory fluid on your brow.
You swung deep and heavy into Kirsh’s torso, over and over and over and yet it made no difference other than to stagger Kirsh backwards a step or two. The synth watched you, listened as you screamed your voice raw as you punched sporadically into his mid-section.
That's good...let it out...you're almost there...almost at peace...
Kirsh suddenly watched your footing stutter, and you fell to the side, exhausted and burnt out. Before you could entirely meet with the cool hard floor of the lab, you felt Kirsh’s arms circle you, and hold you to his body as you both went to the ground, his body slightly cushioning your fall.
You fell apart entirely, your arms burning with exhaustion as you wept unceremoniously into Kirsh’s front. Part of your bloody lip stained into the front of Kirsh’s jacket. Kirsh held you, his hand reaching up to rest on your head as your sobbed what was left of you into him until you went quiet, save for a few hiccups and laboured breathing.
“Breathe in, hold, exhale.” Kirsh slowly, quietly began to instruct you, and you did as told.
Kirsh listened, and waited for your breathing to calm, for you to gather yourself, all within his arms upon the lab floor. He looked down and at your tear-streaked face, lifting his finger up to swipe away your tears. You looked up at him, entirely free of what was holding you in such a vicious grasp, now replaced with tears and shame. You didn’t say anything, but you returned the gesture to touch Kirsh’s face, your thumb brushing across his brow to wipe away the small well of circulatory fluid that had gathered upon his brow.
“Kirsh” You breathed, voice raspy and forlorn. "M'sorry."
Kirsh reached up to take your hand in his, and pressed your fingers – now coated in his circulatory fluid- to his mouth. His lips kissed against your fingers, before he parted them and inserted the pad of your thumb into his mouth to lick clean his own artificial blood from it. You watched him, curiously, and a part of you squeezed internally with affection for such an intimate gesture.
“I can take it.” Kirsh whispered into your palm before kissing it.
Your breath hitched at the sensation of Kirsh’s mouth on the palm and heel of your hand, the feeling sent a shiver through your body, and you couldn’t help but whine softly. Kirsh’s eyes looked to you through hooded lids, and he leaned closer to you, mouth close to yours that you could feel and smell his artificial breath, the faint hint of circulatory fluid leaking from the corner of his mouth from where you had punched his jaw.
“Don’t ever get in a state like this again.” Kirsh mumbled, his nose brushing against yours, tempting and teasing as he hovered so close to your mouth. “Yes?”
“Yes.” You nodded, glancing down to Kirsh’s mouth, then to his eyes.
Kirsh finally closed the gap, and kissed you, both of you tasting one another’s blood and circulatory fluid as you did so. Now, Kirsh was filled with a new intention. He had done what he intended to purge you of your anger, now; he wanted to soften you, take care of you.
“I think we should clear the room before things continue.” Kirsh said between kissing you.
“I still have my report and the meeting-“
“I’ll take care of it.” Kirsh breathed against your lips. “I will take care of all of it.”
You couldn’t look away from Kirsh, it was almost impossible, as if he held you with his eyes. So, you allowed him. You allowed Kirsh to pick you up, sit you atop of a bench, wipe away the blood from your lip, to clean away the destruction and mess you had both created, allowed him to take you by the hand, and lead you out of the lab and back to your home to take further care of you.
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