so. you got worse. and i'm not entirely sure i can blame you for it. maybe it was in you all along, hidden and waiting, or maybe someone planted it in you and watched it grow. either way, it's there now and you hold it in your fist like a second heart - this blood, this hunger, this thrill of having teeth and using them. perhaps you are right to. you are a mirror for the hardness of the world, and a mirror that we could all stand to look in more often. it's hard to watch the bleeding bring about more blood, but it is undeniable that you are very good at wounding.
tagged by: @lovclythief (ty this quiz was so fun!)
for all intents and purposes, caustic is as he appears- a roiling beast covered by a thin sheet of logic and science. everyone else was, or has been, content to accept the sheet at face value, or interact with it as a middle ground, until it started to slip back as he stepped closer. ajay saw through it immediately, its why after his attentions turned on her mind she’s able to, well, handle him so well. she will not bullshit or attempt to negotiate with the front like others had (bc that gives allowances), and isn’t afraid to smack naked nose at the first sign of unsheathing claw.
caustic likes his coffee black, and strongly so. he can be particular. on mornings where caustic simply slept in his chair through the night, sometimes ajay walks in with a mug, steaming, hot, and disgustingly thin. he’s purposefully obtuse aside turning his nose up- and after only one or two more attempts- the coffee stops. it takes mornings before they’re in the communal kitchen again coincidentally, but he shows ajay, more by a nudge to watch than lengthy instruction, the correct portions, the temperature on the machine. he’s surprised by how far that gets him, by the small smile when she glances up at him.
for as bad as he is about reciprocating contact, he never really shies away from receiving it. of course ajay has rather quickly figured this out (along with how well he responds to it), to the point a majority of their quiet moments spent together are in contact in some way, from loosely reached and tangled fingers, to how ajay pulls caustic into her, how she crawls into him. he drinks it in more than he realizes.
caustic talks to doc. they are short, usually impatient sentences (half the time when he’s just trying to get around the damn thing) but he’s picked up ajay’s habit of referring to him as a personality rather than a bucket of bolts running its programming.
bonus of i keep thinking abt caustic still wearing those hairbands around his wrist even off-season when they are apart.
bloodhound does not like him, and caustic can feel that. it catches differently from the usual ire thrown his way (that, he drinks). bloodhound’s distaste isn’t motivated by fear or hatred, not in any palpable way that caustic can pick up on, but instead he feels... disapproval bordering disappointment, in the way they do not give him any time aside what is professionally courteous for their place in the games. caustic has more pressing issues, but it’s made him give more pause to them than to others.
the difference between insects and those worth his time is predictability. bloodhound is not. their decisions, their motivations, their abilities- none of that is usual, or placed on the same emotional spectrum that caustic assumes most to be on. it makes bloodhound something to solve- caustic cannot stand not having a solid grasp (in his eyes) on those around him, and how they work.
they are one of his favourites to have on a team, though. they are motivated similarly, here in the ring- not just for spectacle and sport, but with a purpose. bloodhound moves with a skilled determination, does not dally, and is motivated by their brain rather than their ego. they make decisions caustic approves of. he only wishes they didn’t insist on swift kills- he’d like more to watch.
this is a little short and silly but i just want artur to like absolutely peck and bite at him any time he gets a widdle too close to bloodhounds space and caustic absolutely hates it because any flinching or pulling away is an instinctive reaction. shown up by a bird.
octane has gotten into caustic’s things so often that at this point caustic’s revenge is...quite literally just doing the same. he will go into his room and rummage and find stim or whatever else illicit materials octane has occasionally smuggled and will just take them back to his office without permission (adding psychoactive components to his gas does seem a worthwhile venture). he does not care about the wasted monetary value (or high).
octane is irritating, an imbecile, and so wholly unimportant to the point that he actually sits relatively low on caustic’s shit list. he is stupid but he is obviously no threat, disappears as soon as there's too much threat from caustic’s end, and so he can get away with a surprising amount without triggering caustics genuine anger past irritation. (though an irritated caustic is still not good to have.)
octane seems to be the only one who... specifically comes around expecting more punishment as part of the deal. caustic is not sure what enjoyment he’s getting out of their rile ups, but it makes his gears turn.
caustic has personal experience and knowledge of how he can fit his hand around basically any portion of octane’s body. granted this is experience from the ring (largely) but its a nice reminder that he can get his hand around the other’s throat whenever he’s talking too much.
stupid ajay mistakes is coming to trust caustic with her safety , and caustic actually taking that to heart . he’s protective of her , and that’s something that neither of them truly expects to come out of their interactions . its a gradual incline , and he’s at first a grumbling mess before he transitions to a bit of a grabby mess . but at the same time , ajay curbs a lot of his naturally deeper run inclinations because she also tells him to fuck off if needed .
ajay calls him mikhail out of the simple fact thats how she knows him . his medical records are pretty fucking shitty , and she can connect the dots that most of the shit on there is fabricated or just supplemented because he or the syndicate ( OR BOTH ) are hiding something . she know how much caustic hates when she calls him mik or mikki and she does it anyway .
mutually benefitable symbiosis . more often than not ajay will sneak him an actual clean up so he stops resorting to his beakers for coffee . she’ll put the blanket on his shoulders if she notices he’s fallen asleep at his desk . but on the other hand , he’s the one that will help her when she’s having overstimulation issues , comfort her after night mares .
idiot machine ball , ajay starts buying him flying liar merch , it’s absolute fucking stupid but she starts putting band tees and t-shirts with puns on them interspaced in his wardrobe cause shes tired of the button ups and slacks .
beside corrected formulas and further research notes, mixed beakers and samples, a single rubber glove lies hanging off the edge of caustic’s desk.
further along, caustic is standing, leant over the desk and onto his forearm, pressed against aluminum and pushing along some of those same papers. his form would take up the entire view from the closed door if it wasn’t for the second pair of legs scrambling for purchase between his own (not that their muffled noises weren’t also obvious).
he nuzzles in, mouths sharp kisses and rumbling breaths against neck, his nose bumped up into soft, shampoo-smelling curls behind the shell of an ear. ajay is completely enveloped under his frame, her own hands gripping white-knuckle on the edge of the countertop, on what bone she can grab of his hip.
his right hand rests over the swell of her ass, baggy pants pulled to her knees where he continues to scissor his fingers within her, feels the brace of firm muscle and rubs over velvet wet skin, the way she clenches and her hips jerk into him in time as he starts to fuck her on his fingers, adds a third. he drinks in her reactions, notes every hitched breath and squeeze of her thighs, what he did to cause them, files it away.
“sh- shii...” it sounds like it’s supposed to be a curse, but it trails off with a breathy moan, strained into being as quiet as she can make it to be.
caustic’s rumble only grows, and the barest hint of a smile, smirk, starts to cross his lips as he tilts his head, presses a few more hungry kisses against her throat, where he feels her press up into him, expose more naked neck in response with another hummed noise of pleasure. its a vulnerability that he simply takes pleasure in having, even when he chooses to do nothing with it.
another whimper escapes her lips as he curls his fingers, feels her legs tremble against his thighs. he rumbles, low, against her ear and meant for her than any worry of his own, in fact the warning is borderline daring, “...careful, i didn’t lock the door, ajay.”
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