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sinnaminsuga · 2 months

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𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 - sub!hyunjin x sub!reader x dom!chan

wc: 2,804

cw: hyunjin is a slut, so is the reader, chan likes it that way. SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: while shooting the red lights mv chan noticed something about hyunjin and now he's got a theory he wants to test, he just needs your help.

a/n: was literally plagued with visions of overstimulating hyunjin and making him cry soooo this is what i ended up with. oops. also if there are any spelling errors pls don't tell me bc ive read this trash so many times trying to work it all out and if i have to re-read it again i might go blind.

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), bondage, threesome, some gay shit, breeding, blowjobs, lingerie, deepthroating, general toughness, waxing poetic about hyunjins beautiful face. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

hwang hyunjin is beautiful. its a well documented fact, no ifs ands or buts about it. he has the kind of face ancient civilizations would have gone to war for. old world dynasties would have been reduced to rubble over a face like his. hwang hyunjin is the kind of beautiful where it almost hurts to look at him. it makes you question your belief in a higher power because, how could there possibly be any room for debate on if there is a God when there is simply no other reasonable explanation for how a devine creature like him came to exist on this earth? so with all that being said, there's no way he could get any more beautiful. or so you thought.

it had always been your assumption that there was no possible way he could look any more stunning than he naturally does; but your mind was changed the minute you saw the lithe expanses of his smooth milky skin held captive by blood red ropes. you felt an astounding amount of pride as your eyes bore witness to his soft flesh being pulled tight by the coarse material; the blood under his skin rushing to the surface where the ropes were knotted artfully over his collarbone, across his abdomen, splayed over his pelvis, looped around his upper thighs and finally circling the base of his dick. and you had worked hard to make sure the knots around his wrists and ankles were comfortable yet sturdy before attaching them to each bedpost.

you had taken your instructions very seriously, as the man giving them to you from edge of the bed, wouldn't allow any of this to continue if either of you were to disobey his direct orders, and dear god you would rather die than see this endeavor be cut short.

you admired your handiwork a bit more before the rumbling of a particular voice hit your ears.

“how do you feel baby? is this what you wanted? y/n did a good job huh? you look so pretty.” chan spoke softly to hyunjin, absentmindedly petting his head. hyunjin looked up at his leader and nodded, unsure if he could speak without whining as the ropes pulled across his body with every move.

“yeah i knew you'd like this. the whole time we were shooting “red lights” i saw you ya know? the way your breathing got shallow when the staff chained you up. the way your eyes glazed over when they gave you instructions to pull against your restraints. god, standing above you on that bed, watching you writhe below me was a sight to see. my good boy just wanted to be tied up and used huh?” chan said to him, his finger hooked under hyunjin's chin forcing his head up to look him in the eyes. a whimper forced its way out of him as his hips instinctually bucked and the the sensation of the ropes took over.

you couldn't drag your eyes away from his lower body. the sharp angle of his hipbones jutting up to the ceiling as his cock drooled uncontrollably, the fluid flowing from his tip dribbling down to darken the rope wrapped snugly around the base of him. without even thinking you reached out and wrapped your hand around his shaft, you were just so overwhelmed with the desire to touch him. the feeling was unexpected and the sound that punched its way out of hyunjin's chest was glorious. his body attempted to curl in on itself but the ropes kept him firmly in place. you watched the range of emotions flicker over his face in rapid succession; surprise at your initial touch, pleasure from finally being granted a little stimulation, sensitivity from being denied his pleasure for so long, shock when he remembered the restraints keeping him spread open, frustration at not being able to move, and finally acceptance as he gave in to the languid stroking you were doing. he continued to toss as the pleasure took over, thrashing wildly against the mattress and moaning into the pillow.

hyunjin's noises were reduced to whimpers as chan’s hand squeezed around his jaw, directing hyunjin to look him in the eyes. “shhh baby boy, y/n is gonna make you feel good okay? you'll let her do that, won’t you? you'll lay there and take what i let her give you, understood? words please, jinnie.” chan cooed. “yes daddy. i'll be good for you, for her too i promise. i'll be your perfect boy just like always, i promise, please! god just please keep touching me!” hyunjin choked out, making chan grin. he leapt up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed and rounded the corner until he was standing behind you. you repressed a shudder as chan’s hand slid up your back, tracing over your spine and occasionally tripping over the straps of the lingerie set you were wearing. his hand glided up into your hair with ease until his palm cradled the base of your skull, then suddenly he locked his fingers to grab your hair firmly by the roots and pulled you upright so your back was against his chest as he angled your head to the left exposing the expanse of your neck. the suddenness of his movements caused you to lose your grip on hyunjin’s dick and he cried out from the loss of contact, his hips frantically bucking into the air in a fruitless attempt to find friction.

chan hummed as his lips made contact with the skin of your neck and continued as he licked, nipped, and sucked at your flesh. he hooked his chin over your shoulder as his right hand charted a course down your abdomen to the apex of your thighs where the pads of his thick fingers rubbed over your damp slit. when you could finally manage to pry your lids open, you locked eyes with hyunjin. he was practically panting watching chan devour your throat and palm your pussy. “so pretty y/n, y’look so pretty. like a dream. want to paint you one day, just like that.” he whispered. hyunjin's words and gaze coupled with chan's wandering hands and skilled mouth were almost enough to send you over the edge.

“now here’s what's next my loves. y/n, you're going to get on your knees, lean down on your elbows and suck hyunjin's pretty dick right into the back of your throat okay? i want you to take him as far as you can, and quickly. do not stop until i tell you to. not if he begs, not if he cries, not if he screams. got it?” you nodded as well as you could with his left hand still in your hair. chan released you and you quickly got into the position he had described, gently grabbing hold of hyunjin's cock. “i’m sorry jinnie, but you know i have to.” you quipped right before you took him into your mouth and as far into your throat as you could manage. the garbled noise that ripped its way out of hyunjin's throat threw you into over drive as you bobbed your head and sucked him like your life depended on it. he was groaning deeply and his limbs were flailing the best they could in his current predicament. his back arched up off the mattress so beautifully you wished chan would take a photo.

“fuck, fuck, FUCK. jesus chri- oh my god! y/n, sweetheart slow down- PLEASE! oh fuck i can- i can feel- fucking fuck. i can feel your throat squeezing me so tight!” hyunjin wailed throwing his head back, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as he grit his teeth.

suddenly chan’s hand made its way to your pussy again and you gasped around the thickness embedded in your throat causing hyunjin to hiss.

“crotchless panties angel? so proud of you. always so prepared for daddy huh? know just what i like.” chan muttered from behind you. you heard the telltale jingle of his belt being opened and the zipper being lowered on his jeans. he had already removed his shirt earlier so he was naked quickly, and he wasted no time before rubbing the head of his dick along your weeping folds.

“now i'm going to fuck you nice and deep the way you like and i want you to keep sucking my good boy okay?” chan said but before you could respond he shoved himself into you in one swift thrust. chan was not small in girth or length for that matter but the stretch you felt every time he fucked you open was delicious. you couldn't help but moan around the cock in your mouth which in turn caused hyunjin to scream at the unexpected vibration. chan’s laugh that followed was dark and proud, thrilled that he held so much power and that you both let him use it.

“fuuuuck sweet girl this cunt is always so fucking tight huh? doesn't matter how many times i fuck you or let someone else fuck you, you always snap right back. god i love being inside you.” chan growled as his hands gripped your hips and held you steady as he pummeled his way in and out of your slippery hole. the whole time he was fucking you, you were being forced onto hyunjin's cock as well, every moan muffled by the thickness battering your throat.

“hyunjin is y/n a good cocksucker? hmm? you think? you think she's better than you were?” chan taunted him as he drove himself inside you over and over again. “remember when we had our first one on one meeting? just me and you alone in the studio? i said 'hyunjin if you really are serious and want to stay in this group i need one thing from you’ do you remember that? i do.” you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn't see him. hyunjin groaned and mumbled what sounded like a yes. “i also remember how fast you sank to your knees and scrambled to try and open my belt. you thought i wanted you to suck me off to stay in the band. and you were so willing to give me whatever i wanted. all i was going to ask you for was your loyalty and your honesty in all things. but you offered up that pretty mouth quick as a bitch and who was i to say no?” chan laughed at the memory as he threw a foot up onto the bed to change the angle he was fucking into you from so he was now nailing your gspot on every thrust.

“y-yes i remember. ‘course i do. i knew w-what you were gonna ask me because felix told me beforehand what you were going to ask, what you asked a-all of them. i just- fuck yes keep sucking y/n im so close. i jus’ wanted you so bad i thought if i tried and y-you didn't want me back it would just be an easily brushed off m-misunderstanding.” hyunjin whined, his hands balled up into fists, knuckles white.

“y/n suck him dry. now.” chan ordered and you sucked harder pulling a squeal out of hyunjin. “go on sweet boy. go ahead and cum. you earned it.” chan encouraged as he delivered a heavy smack to your ass. your muffled yelp was the final straw and hyunjin came hard into your mouth, his body attempting to lurch off the bed. you swallowed everything down and pulled off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand. as chan continued to ram into you, you mirrored his thrusts with the fist wrapped tightly around hyunjin's still hard cock.

“stop stop stop please! god please i can- i can't take it! it's too sensitive please!” hyunjin cried. “yes you can baby. you can take it. trust me.” chan cooed. feeling bold you leaned forward once again and sucked hyunjin's tip harshly while lashing the tip of your tongue over his slit.

“FUCK! no no no no it's too m- too much. stop stop stop!” hyunjin continued to wail. he was begging you to relent but he also didn't use his safeword so you knew he didnt really want it to stop. the sound was like music to chan's ears and the rhythmic clenching of your cunt around him propelled him quickly toward his own orgasm.

“i'm gonna cum in you okay baby? gonna breed this pretty pussy, stuff it full of my cum. that what you want? yeah it is isn't it?” chan rambled and you moaned out a “yes please daddy” right before he exploded inside you. your hand around hyunjin never stopped moving and he was crying now. big fat tears rolling down his cheeks from the overstimulation.

chan pulled out of you and watched your hole flutter, pushing out his seed. he murmured a string of praises as he watched the glistening fluid drip out of you. you looked over your shoulder at him, jutting your lower lip out.

“daddy i didn't get to cum yet. can i?” you asked.

“go ahead baby. make yourself cum.” chan said with a wave of his hand and an evil grin etched on his face. you grinned right back before scrambling up hyunjin's body and straddling him.

“wh-what are you doing? oh...oh no. no no no. please it's so sensitive it's so so sensitive y/n i can't!” hyunjin hiccuped, tears still flowing. you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cheek, lapping up the briny liquid seeping from his eyes. then you whispered “oh jinnie, don't you want me to feel good too? i worked so hard after all.” you reached behind you and positioned his tip at your entrance before effortlessly sliding down onto him. you moaned as he filled you and he once again thrashed against the ropes wrapped around him. you started to ride him in earnest, aching for your own release at this point. the man beneath you was mumbling incoherently about how good your pussy feels and how badly he wants to come again. chan sauntered over and perched next to hyunjin again, reaching out to pet his head and pepper his face with kisses.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck i'm gonna cum!” you cried as you worked yourself over hyunjin’s dick and used one hand to furiously rub your clit.

“daddy shes squeezing me so hard i don't think i ca- can get out. can i cum inside?” hyunjin pleaded with chan. “of course you can baby, right sweetheart? you want jinnie’s cum inside you don't you?” you just nodded in response. “my girl loves to be creampied you never have to ask. just go ahead baby boy.” chan explained. you drove yourself down onto hyunjin twice more and then you were cumming, mouth dropping open as your inner walls milked him for all he was worth. hyunjin spasmed beneath you as he came and came and came inside you. he wasn't speaking anymore, just making these stunted little sounds as his body shook with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.

chan had begun to untie the ropes as you slowly lifted yourself off of hyunjin. you whispered praise to him as he has hummed, completely fucked out and boneless beneath you.

“shhh it's okay sweetheart. you did so good for us baby. we’re gonna put you to bed now okay?” chan murmured to the man shaking in the bed. hyunjin managed to croak out an “uh-huh” in response. you grabbed a bottle of lotion from nearby and began to work it into the reddened skin all over him where the ropes had been, while chan wiped down hyunjin's groin with a warm cloth. you hummed a tune you knew hyunjin loved and his eyes fluttered shut, a tiny smile making its way to his face.

after everything was put away and the room was right again, chan crawled into the bed to spoon hyunjin’s half asleep form while you crawled in the other side to press yourself to hyunjin's still somewhat heaving chest. you pulled the blanket up high and tucked yourself into his warm skin and he wound an arm around your waist. chan's hand rested on hyunjin's hip, squeezing the flesh there every so often.

being here felt so right, so natural, so easy. loving these two was as easy as breathing. you couldn't believe it had taken this long to get here but now that you had, you weren't letting them go. before your eyes fell closed you heard the sound of chan's lips kissing along hyunjin's shoulder before he whispered “rest now my loves. because i have big plans for you tomorrow.”

THE END

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theharlotofferelden · 8 months

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Gonna need to put Mary Kirby + other long time staff being fired into perspective because this isn't a recent development. Bioware has been plagued with issues for well over a decade, and it's not just because of EA.

When Gaider decided to move on from Dragon Age in 2014, everyone thought it was just because he wanted to move onto a different project. He ended up leaving the company completely in 2016 after working on Anthem for a bit, and it was later reported that staff on the project had issues with his writing. He didn't mention why he left Bioware until very recently in a long twitter thread detailing that, while Bioware is a company known for its storytelling and characters, upper management went from valuing its writers to quietly resenting them, and feeling as though the writing were "holding the company back."

When they started working with Frostbite they encountered so many technical problems with it because it was specifically designed for FPS games. They were literally designing the tools they needed to work on both Dragon Age Inquisition and Mass Effect Andromeda while they were working on those games. Darrah (or perhaps Laidlaw, I forget which) even acknowledged when he was interviewed by Jason Schreier for Blood, Sweat, and Pixels, that this is a big industry no-no. But Bioware was put in a hard spot to either work with Frostbite or use the Eclipse engine that DAO was designed on (which I'm assuming would've required developing the engine and toolkit further to bring the graphics up to industry standards). So they ended up working with Frostbite which resulted in a fuckton of issues both for Dragon Age Inquisition and Mass Effect Andromeda, because the teams behind both projects had to design their own tools.

With the added stress of the toolkit also came the toxic work environment, departments that were perpetually understaffed, directors leaving and new writers coming in with different visions for the project, time mismanagement where they spent too much time on "high concept" gameplay, not having a clear vision for the game, resentments between studios, inexperience with coordinating video calls across multiple studios, the resultant mandatory crunch, etc. All of this is mentioned in this article about Mass Effect Andromeda's production cycle and this article about Anthem's.

Casey Hudson and Gérard Lehiany left Bioware in 2014 right in the middle of production on Andromeda (Casey rejoined the company as general manager in 2017, but left again in 2020). David Gaider left in 2016 in the middle of production on Anthem, as did Aaryn Flynn who left before the game was shipped in 2019. Mike Laidlaw left in 2017 and left production of Dragon Age Dreadwolf in Mark Darrah's hands, who left in the middle of its production in 2020. Matt Goldman (creative director for Dreadwolf) left the following year. Mac Walters (production director on Dreadwolf) who's been with the company for over 19 years left in January of this year. Are you seeing the pattern here?

I don't doubt that EA has influence over Bioware considering the recent layoffs appear related to the announcement back in March that EA would lay off 6% of its workforce. But it's clear there's something deeper that's going on at Bioware, and it's really not good.

When veteran senior staff are leaving one by one along with other long time staff, and it's been reported that the studio has a toxic work environment with management issues that make crunch necessary, there is something deeply wrong with the company and how things are being run. This is a sinking ship, and in all likelihood everyone is betting on keeping the company afloat with the success of Dragon Age Dreadwolf and/or the next Mass Effects game.

I want to say something more about how broadly the mainstream AAA video games industry is abusive and how incredibly fucked up their practices of layoffs have been normalized, but this is already pretty long. What I will say is that I'm not claiming this means DA4 or the next ME game is going to tank. It sure as fuck doesn't look good for it, but despite my grievances with Dragon Age, I do want the game to be successful and for Bioware to keep doing what they're doing.

And honestly, whether those games do well or not is really besides the point. Something is wrong at Bioware, whether it's the company itself or the fact it's owned by EA, and it can't be solved with mass layoffs. This is a cultural problem within the company itself, and it's very unlikely to be addressed considering how MEA failing seems to have done little to change how things are being run right now.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #mass effect #mass effect andromeda #bioware #bioware critical #ea critical #dragon age dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #da4 #i was gonna reply to another post but decided to just make my own because i have a lot of shit to say

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jenosbigtoe · 6 months

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BIG FAN OF YOUR WORK do you mind maybe creating some sort of succubus type fic 🤭🤗??

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: mark lee x succubus!reader (office au)

warnings: manipulation, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, reader takes control, mark is tied up

mark was in deep shit.

he didn’t mean to develop the hots for his hot coworker in the cubicle adjacent to his, alright? to a certain extent, you couldn’t really blame him. every day, you’d show up wearing a white button down, slightly unbuttoned just enough to remain professional but also show even cleavage to leave his pants tight. you would wear those black tights and a matching black pencil skirt that made your ass look amazing. red nails, red lipstick, and a cat-eye that could carve his heart out. and you always had those red bottom pumps that mark would definitely let you stomp on his throat with. you were literally a vision of sex, in your office work attire, to mark. he would let you ruin him.

you were so confident and a little sly too, which made mark so flustered around you. “hey, baby boy,” you’d say to him with a smirk on your face, as he walked over to his desk one morning. your legs crossed as you watched him spit and splutter at the nickname.

“b-baby boy?” he said, eyes bulging.

you rolled over to his desk in your rolly chair and pinched his cheek. “yes, baby boy,” you cooed. “you’re so cute. just like a baby boy.”

but mark didn’t want to be known as cute in your eyes. he wanted to be sexy. he wanted to be fuckable.

“m not a baby,” he’d grumble to himself, scooting away from your teasing grin and going back to (pretending to) work on his computer.

you thought he was just so adorable and you loved teasing him like this to get these cute reactions out of him.

mark was so frustrated. after all, his office crush just couldn’t stop teasing him for being “cute”. puppies are cute but you wouldn’t fuck a puppy. he didn’t want to be a stupid office pet in your eyes. he wanted to be a man, your man to be exact.

and on top of all your teasing, he’s been having these… dreams about you. for several weeks in fact. every night. his dreams would always center around you but in different situations. and they were always, always sexual. every dream was different. sometimes he would top, sometimes you. sometimes you would be sucking his dick and sometimes he’d be the one going down on you. and in those dreams, you have gone through every position imaginable. reverse cowgirl, missionary, doggy, 69, standing up, on the wall, in the shower. literally anything and anywhere, you have done it in mark’s dreams. mark would never remember what happened leading up to the sex either. he would fall asleep and next thing he knows, he’s balls deep inside you and you’re milking the hell out of his cock.

every morning, he wakes up hot and sweaty and panting, like he just ran a marathon. he’s normally an evening shower type of guy but now he has to take a freezing cold shower every morning in order to put himself in somewhat decent order before he has to face you at the office. and of course, you’d always be there, teasing the hell out of him. and them he’d remember those dreams… they feel so real to him. it frustrates him to no end how he has been plagued by these sex dreams with you when he isn’t even close to even asking you out in real life.

this night was no different. mark fell asleep and the next thing he knew, he was back sitting in his office chair but this time pants around his ankles and tie bound around his wrists behind his back. you had your tights ripped to shreds, skirt rolled up all the way to your waist, and shirt completely unbuttoned and hanging off your arms to show off your bouncing tits as you bounced up and down on mark’s painfully hard cock. fucking at work? this was a new one.

“fuck, mark,” you panted, tilting your head back and sighing in pleasure. you grabbed his waist with one hand for support and rested the other on his bare chest.

mark couldn’t move his arms from the tight knot his tie had around them but god how badly he wanted to touch and grope your bouncing tits right in front of his face. he growled and surged forward, grabbing one of your tits with his mouth.

your cunt felt so so warm and wet, he was about to lose it. then he felt your pussy spasm and clench around him, causing him to let go from licking and sucking on your breasts and groan in pleasure.

“fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking hot. you feel so good, sweetheart,” he hissed, bucking his hips into yours. “baby, i’m gonna cum.”

you felt his thick cock twitch inside you. you grinned widely and started bouncing your hips harder, faster against his. “cum, baby, cum inside my cunt,” you whispered seductively into his ear.

mark leaned his head back and let out a loud groan as he came deep inside your warm pussy. he unloaded right at the entrance of your womb, bottoming out so deep. every time he cums inside you in these dreams, he feels that he had never cum that much in his life, yet he could still feel your cunt milking him for more. you rocked your hips and grinded them against his, making sure to get every last drop.

he thought this was all a dream but you knew better. afterall, this was how you bound him to you and made him yours.

a/n: i intended this to be for jisung but i got carried away and wrote it for markiepoo instead whoops

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream #mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #mark x reader

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everybody-loves-purdy · 9 months

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Goosefeather's curse is in my opinion the scariest warriors book because I remember reading it and being like jesus christ specifically the part where everyone was starving to death and they went to dig up the prey they buried to freeze and it was all rotten so there's just all these rotten animals everywhere in camp and the cats dying or already dead since if I remember correctly everyone was too weak to move a body at one point ???? Literal horror

Yeah it’s a completely underrated book for it’s more disturbing aspects, that whole period in particular is absolutely brutal. The moment the clan dig up the prey and find its been spoiled and they and the reader realise that they are now completely screwed makes your stomach drop.

Shout out to Rainfur who took on the kits of a fellow queen who died and managed to successfully keep all 5 kits alive somehow.

What was Vicky on when she wrote this group of novellas lol

You got serial killer horror story, person plagued by inescapable visions and bearing witness horrific traumatic events he is powerless to stop, and guy dying of cancer for the whole book before passing on in the embrace of his husband. Don’t get me wrong I love these novellas and I’m so grateful for them, but they’re such a deviation from the novella norm in their themes and imagery.

#anonymous #goosefeather

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turbulentscrawl · 5 months

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Identity(V) Headcanons: Frederick Kreiburg

Frederick's headcanons got a little more...medical than some of the others I've done so far. I'm no expert in this stuff, but I do my best to be comprehensible and respectful where certain disorders have to be mentioned. As always, hope you guys like it!

-Ashes of Memory states that Frederick was diagnosed with ‘psychasthenia’ at some point in his childhood, but this isn’t used as a diagnosis in modern medicine. Instead, it’s a term used to describe a collection of symptoms commonly associated with disorders like OCD. It includes anxiety, obsession, compulsions, depersonalization, nervous ticks, and can even affect one’s memory.

-Personally, I also think he has synesthesia. Frederick mentions colors in relation to music a lot (especially gold), and while this could just be something relating to his other condition, I prefer to take it as literal. It’s part of the reason he was enamored after hearing his father play, why he obsessed with music. Frederick grew up in an onslaught of overwhelming chaos, colors bursting and fading wildly across his senses incomprehensible in his day to day, enhancing his anxiety…but when the recital started there was only the song. One symphony of sound and color, appearing before him in a long, unbroken stream. It was peaceful. And he became obsessed with that peace.

-This also explains his “un-Kreiburg-like skills.” His music is not like what the rest of his family composes because he’s writing it to suit both sound and color. He can perfectly identify pitch and can play most songs entirely “by ear” after hearing them only once or twice, but he’s obsessed with the stream of colors keeping a certain rhythm to them, which doesn’t always lend itself to “traditional” Kreiburg music.

-Frederick’s personality is very affected by the above struggles/disorders. He’s a very kind person at his core, as well as very earnest, but he is plagued by fear, anxiety, and extreme self-criticism. He becomes overwhelmed easily. He is entirely aware of all his struggles, his failures, and wrestles every day with the knowledge that he’s a disappointment to his family. Sometimes his situation brings him to tears, sometimes to destructive wrath.

-Frederick has come to accept his need for appearances, that people mostly like him because of his looks and his familial relations. But on his worst days he can’t even rely on that much because his communication begins to break down. His speech becomes disjointed and frantic, he’s tense and twitchy, a look of horror sinks deep into his face. To protect what remains of his reputation, he hides away during these times.

-When he is with people, he behaves as a gentleman should, albeit a reclusive one. He’s terrified of being judged further, but craves understanding and praise, so he maintains personal distance while remaining remarkably enthusiastic about musical discussion. He’s never told anyone but his family about his diagnosis or his synesthesia. They are both sources of shame for him.

-When at his most anxious, he has a tendency to pull at his hair. Whole clumps of his long hair have been lost to the worst of his fits. He’s not particularly sensitive about any resulting bald spots on his scalp, but he does try to cover them with his normal ponytail style because he knows they would affect people’s attraction to him.

-He despises the sound of dogs barking. Which is a shame, because he does like dogs. Their barking is just burry, red fireworks right in the middle of his vision. It always startles him and makes it impossible to do or focus on anything.

-His love language is Gift Giving, and the “gifts” he gives are, predictably, usually songs. It’s his primary skill, of course, so as far as Frederick is concerned, he has nothing else worth offering besides music made in the name of his loved one. He’d be devastated if these musical gifts weren’t appreciated; Frederick can’t take much more rejection. His favorites Love Languages to receive are Word of Affirmation and Acts of Service. He’s secretly a bit desperate for praise, and any actions you take to support his work or help improve his reputation as a musician are better than gold.

-He likes to match his clothes to the primary colors he sees in the songs he’s performing. During his recitals, he changes coats often.

-He’s a picky eater with a powerful sweet tooth. If he could have it his way, he’d subsist mostly on desserts.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv composer #turbulentscrawl

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fanaticastrid · 2 months

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I need a break from Ch 5 of the DLAU so fuck it, have headcanons n stuff for ToA until I get it out-

-Lester literally never had a haircut in the entire six months, so obviously it's actually pretty long. Maybe shoulder length?

-OH AND HIS EYESSS his eyes turn gold when he gets a burst of godly power! The ToA discord also came up with them turning entirely green when he has a vision and I love that.

-So Apollo is more than happy to become Lester again, but I like to think he made a few tweaks to the form. For one, replacing the acne with a ton of freckles (on his face and shoulders especially) and maybe dying a few of his curls blonde. Oh, and his eyes are still blue, but around the pupil itself is like a gold ring. So Lester, just with subtle changes to reference Apollo's godly form.

-Meg absolutely has sunflowers planted in Aeithales dedicated to Apollo, and he makes sure they stay alive and healthy no matter what.

-I believe Caleo split up to better focus on themselves. Sorry, I just don't like the pair and it didn't make sense. They're still friends though.

-Georgina is a legacy of Apollo, I will not answer your questions

-Apollo makes it a point to visit the two camps at least weekly, mostly just to say hi and check up on his old friends. He avoids giving out quests, but if he absolutely has to, he makes sure it's easy and even provides an asisst at times.

-Hell, in fact, he might come from nowhere in his Lester form and save you from that fall or dangerous trap, or that horde of monsters about to make a meal out of you. Those in-person interventions are rare though, as Apollo is trying his very best not to alert the other gods on what he's up to.

-The only one that knows is Artemis, but she says and does nothing about it. She understands that this is just Apollo's way to keep himself busy so that he doesn't break down over the memories, over how many died for him. Of course, it's mainly due to the promise he made with Jason that he does so much to help the demigods.

-Apollo spends a lot of time w Meg, helping her garden with the rest of the Imperial Household. He makes sure no harm ever comes to her, that she lives long and happy, and she's grateful for her dummy being there for her.

-Despite how much he now cares for mortals now, he's still a god. Apollo's very reluctant to unleash his plague arrows and whatnot upon humanity, but it's his purpose. So he tries to make any damage minimal when he has to attend to his more destructive godly duties.

#trials of apollo #lester papadopoulos #toa #toa headcanon #apollo pjo #apollo toa #apollo #meg mccaffrey #headcanon

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classpecting-the-hoyoverse · 14 days

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Adventurine: The Maid of Light

Maid: The active creation class

One who creates aspect or creates through aspect

One who creates aspect for themselves

Alternatively, one who fixes aspect

Light

Abstract: Knowledge, Awareness, Attention, Relevance, Fortune, Luck

Literal: Actual Light (Brightness), Vision, Eyes, the Sun, Stars

Light, the aspect of facts and fortune. If there's a chance of something happening, even at the smallest odds, the Light-bound will grasp onto that possibility. Take for example a gambler in a game of blackjack, the odds are against him and his chances of winning are slim. Yet, despite everything, the gambler walks away with more money than he came in with.

It's a facet that's less emphasized, not even the Extended Zodiac mentions the aspect's fortuitous traits. But within Homestuck's narrative, luck is shown to be one of the most important parts of being a Light-bound.

Let's discuss, starting with...

Aranea! A fellow Light-bound healer. As a Sylph of Light, not only can she heal others of physical aliments (e.i. Terezi's blindness), but she can also heal fate itself, creating fortune for an otherwise doomed timeline...

...or so she claims. Aranea became so absorbed with her hubris does she fail to be careful, being so reliant on her luck to steer her towards her goal that her megalomania ended in a rather, dark end. She falls into an abyss (literally is up for interpretation) and is absorbed in irrelevancy. [s]GAME OVER is the last time we see her play any significant role. Something that echoes a eerily familiar scene

Our next fellow Light-bound is our darling Rose Lalonde.

Though most perceive her character as the one who Knows it All, Rose Lalonde's role within the entirety of the narrative is to guide others towards a path with the most fortuitous outcomes, but rather than controlling them, she can guide others to take the action's necessary to put them on the best possible path for them to take. An advisor of sorts.

However, this doesn't necessarily mean victory. Her powers not only assist a single person, but they also assist the timeline as a whole. Whatever she needs to do to reach best possible fate for her friends, she will do it. Even if it means releasing a star and dying within its flares.

Which brings up an interesting parallel between her and Aventurine: both were willing to sacrifice themselves if it meant tearing down the walls that held a microcosm of their reality.

For Rose, the game was meant to be unwinnable. Thus she retaliates by breaking the game in any ways she could before concluding that blowing up the green sun is the best path of action .

For Aventurine, it's almost the same thing. But instead of desperately trying to burn down all of reality however, he wants to tear at the threads that make up the facade that is Penacony, and The Family along with it; to bring attention to the murders that they're covering up.

He wants to prove that death in this dreamscape is possible, and that Penacony is not all what it seems.

It's also worth noting that seeking evidence, even at the risk of putting himself in grave danger with powers higher than him, is also a characteristic of being a Light-bound.

These endeavors both result in their "deaths". In a sense, both have also ascended: Rose became a god and Aventurine has got a newfound reason to live.

Black Hole, Green Sun.

But I digress

Let's turn towards the last light-bound: Vriska Serket!

Both he and this Thief of Light have been known throughout their respective fandoms as gamblers. They even appear to wield dice as their weapons!

Aventurine and Vriska both have been show to be able to manipulate any outcomes to break in their favor. However, where luck comes to Aventurine naturally, Vriska has to take it.

Both also have been plagued streaks of luck that are a detriment to their lives. One of the first things the read learns about Vriska in her proper introduction is the fact that she has a habit that accumulates bad luck

For Aventurine though, well...

Aventurine's life is defined by his gratuitous fortune, ever since he's birth he's been blessed with it. Hailing from a desert land in which I can assume has little to shelter its inhabitants from the harsh heat, the moment Aventurine was born however, rain had come upon them. Perhaps the first time in a long time.

Being blessed by their deity, it's natural that one can assume that his good luck would lead him towards great things later in life. Perhaps he could've used it to bring his clan some fortune to improve their quality of life.

And he does! Somewhat. Only once: His sister's necklace was stolen by a couple of Katicans and through his luck, little Kakavasha was able to win a game and bring the necklace back

That should've be the beginning of a wide lucky streak for Aventurine, good thing after good thing happening throughout his life is what fate should have in store for him, right?

To him, to be lucky isn't always a good thing, especially if you have a lot of it.

Let's talk about his class, the Maid.

The story of a Maid begins with them having an overwhelming amount of their aspect, so much so that it seems to permeate every facet of their life. It engulfs them to the point that it snuffs out the Maid's true sens of self. In other words, they're a servant to their aspect.

Maid of Time Aradia Megido was so engulfed by death and destruction that by the time the reader is introduced to her, she's already dead. Even before that, voices of the dead speak into her mind and constantly tell her what to do.

Maid of Space Porrim and Maid of Life Jane have similar troubles with their aspect as they're forced to be in a predetermined position that they're placed in seemingly the moment they were born. For Porrim, it was to assist the troll's progenitor, the Mother Grub. For Jane, it was her position as Heiress to a baking company her grandmother created.

For Aventurine, it's his blessing that makes him extremely lucky, yet it pushes him into isolation.

When his clan was slaughtered, he was the sole survivor of their massacre. When he was thrown into a brawl with other slaves, he was the sole survivor of that fight.

When he killed his master, he manages to not only keep his life but also to rise far above the ranks from his status as a slave. A high-stakes gamble that he should've lost. Curious that he's stationed on a planet that used to be a prison.

When his luck is noticed, he becomes a servant to whoever is above him. As long as his luck benefits others, he can keep his life. He creates luck, not just for others, but for his own survival too. He’s quite literally made of it. He even gives you buffs during his boss fight if you manage to roll higher than him, and that still plays to his schemes. We’ll talk about that later however.

Aventurine is trapped in a cycle of survival. His luck is what keeps him alive but at what price? Aventurine doesn't see a reason to live nor does he actively seek to die, he just keeps gambling and gambling, winning and winning. A slave to his fortune.

So what can he do? Is he bound to forever run in cycles while his blessing tugs him around like a leash?

A Maid's role is to not only create, but to repair as well. To overcome their aspect and make it theirs to wield.

Let's start off on the surface: there's a murder mystery in Penacony and the Family is diverting attention away from it, to the extent that it never seemed like the victims died. Besides, there is no death in Penacony.

Aventurine seeks to rectify that. Bring light towards the truth of not only the murders, but Penacony as a whole.

But let’s look a little deeper, after all it’s not attention that he has a problem with, it’s his fortune. How does one find a way to overcome good luck? To overcome a blessing?

To set down the path where the best possible outcome is to fail.

The climax of the 2.1 Trailblaze quest has the Trailblazer and the Astral Express Crew face off against Aventurine under the guise of getting the Trailblazer to destroy all of Penacony, when in reality:

It’s bait. It’s all a farce to get himself killed. And with his luck, he was able to provoke Archeron to draw her blade and make him the third death in Penacony. The reason why he activates your ultimate if you roll a higher number than him in is boss fight? It can be said that he’s a fair man, but it could also mean that he’ll be brought closer to being defeated the higher you roll.

By being killed, it’ll be hard to deny that death does happen within the dreamscape and everyone is unable to look away and is now forced to come to terms with that fact.

Aventurine managed to break the cycle, he had lost because he made it so. Overcoming the curse that was his luck by making defeat the most fortuitous path he could take.

…So, what now? There’s not much to his story left now that he’s dead.

Well… not quite. Aventurine isn’t actually dead.

This is where things start to turn speculative, but bear with me here.

As alluded to before, Aventurine’s finale mirrors the ends of both Aranea and Rose. One falls into nothingness and obscurity while the other rises anew. Who’s to say that this is just Star Rail’s version of a legendary nap? Right after he conquers his good luck streak that adds in the unveiling of the truth of Penacony, a fitting parallel to completing SBURB’s land quest, Aventurine enacts the ultimate sacrifice and ascends.

Though ascension in Homestuck is a flashy and a celebrated matter, Aventurine’s is more of a realization.

His entire life was wrought with death, him just being lucky to have his be continuously delayed. Fate has toyed with him and thus sees that no matter what he does, he just keeps living. So within the nothingness, he asks the emanator of nothingness this question:

To which, she replies:

Both she and Aventurine know that there is more to life than just simply being alive. She has more to live for and so does Aventurine.

Acheron alludes to his reawakening, telling him that he has much more to do.

However, it is only when our Maid of Light is finally given some light himself does he make the resolve to stride forward:

Aventurine is a Maid of Light that has been through so many hardships that ironically were given through his deity’s blessing: his luck. Yet, it’s that same blessing that kept him toiling through his life until his finale, where he finally found the strength to use it for his own downfall. With his arc seemingly finished and currently in limbo, there are still many things that Kakvasha needs to do. He’s not done living.

And this time, he won’t be shackled by the light that bounded him for so long. No more weighted dice.

And if we ever see him again (he has to. At the time of writing this, he’s set to release in 3 days), maybe there will be something new about him.

Maybe one day we’ll get a Nihility Aventurine down the line too.

#godtiers #homestuck #classpect #not an ask #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #hsr #light aspect #maid class #Maid of light #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine #hsr dr ratio

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md-confessions · 12 days

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sort of in response to that one ask about doll not being 'uzi if she never met n.'

both her and uzi were changed through grief and disconnect from their peers even if it showed in different ways. both of them have themes of loneliness & both of them have an intense festering hatred that fuels their motivations.

the difference between them is that through the connections that uzi formed after being forced into a situation where she had to open up, she deterred herself from the path she was slowly going down.

like her quote en quote villain arc was stopped before it started because of the connection she formed with N but doll never had that.

doll refused to form connections despite the chances she was given because it happened too late. her anger festered for so long that she wasn't able to make a comeback. her hubris was her downfall. she became the very thing she sought to destroy.

the point of promening and her 'hypocritical murder plan' was that she was so blinded by her anger and hatred, she didn't really think too far about the logics of her plan; she probably fantasized killing v and then took the first chance she could to actually do it.

she has some kind of tunnel vision, focusing on her goals until she's gotten them; no matter the cost, no matter who or what she has to get through. (another similarity between her and uzi, imo.)

Uzi basically stated "hey we should stop fighting cause there's bigger shit at play and we can deal with it better if we team up" and Doll responded with "No I can do this on my own also die"

sort of. imagine you spend years upon years seething and imagining ways you're going to kill this sky demon that killed your parents in front of you and lead to the activation of a virus that has plagued you for years since that point. you have to actively kill and eat people from a young age & you are alone in your struggles; presumably the singular person who is aware of them finds your trauma humorous to an extent, and even if she sticks by your side, you feel like she doesn't really get it. i reiterate; you are alone in your struggles.

one day, you finally get your chance. you fantasize this moment for years, to the point where it becomes the only plausible solution to your problems. you don't plan it out thoroughly, because you know the universe will deal its hand correctly and allow you catharsis after years of festering that hatred. it finally happens. you have her in your sights, you have her pinned, she knows who you are now and you're about to kill her, to inflict all the pain on her you have wanted to for years; no matter who may have gotten in your way, you will have this, it's all you want, its all you HAVE wanted.

and then someone stops you. she tells you some things that if you were in a clearer mind, you would have thought deeper about, but you're so fucking angry right now and you want her to get out of the way. you don't listen.

you fight. you lose. you come back.

she has the same virus as you. you're not alone anymore. and that's when the conflicting feelings start. but despite that start, they never quite come to any meaningful conclusion because you have more important things to do. perhaps she inspired you a little to understand that the fate of the planet is more important than your fantasy for revenge, but you're so set in your ways you can't quite admit it yet. and again; when you get that chance again, to enact revenge, you take it.

and in the end, it ruined her & she died. she died as she lived; alone.

essentially, 'doll is uzi if she never met n' doesn't mean that exactly; it means doll is uzi if she never formed meaningful connections. the friends she had in school don't count in my eyes. literally the very first proper interaction we see between her and lizzy is lizzy playing doll's traumatic experience off as a joke. no hate towards lizzy also just to specify i love them as friends i just don't think it is on the same level of healthy as n and uzis friendship is?

okay.. i can't add any more to this it's so fucking long also it's 1 am GOODNIGHT i hope this doesn't look weird or aggressive

#md confessions #murder drones #md doll #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v #md lizzy

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siren-of-the-ocean-tumbls · 1 month

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Reasons why Tim Drake should be Chronically ill/ have chronic pain (In DC canon):

1) The spleen problem

Tim...literally doesn't have a spleen. What does the spleen do? Well, according to NHS inform:

It fights any invading germs in the blood (the spleen contains infection-fighting white blood cells). It controls the level of white and redblood cells as well as platelets (small cells that form blood clots). It screens the blood and removes any old or damaged red blood cells.

This means that aside from the usually-accepted side effect of infection risk, Tim may also be anemic due to not having enough red Blood cells. Alternatively, he may experience intense bleeding or bruising due to the lack of platelets.

2) The Clench

The clench was a version of the Ebola plague that spread across Gotham during Contagion. They call it Ebola Gulf A. Of course, Tim is one of the people infected. Now, the Clench is obviously a fictional disease. But! People who have survived Ebola experience the following long-term side effects: Tiredness, Headaches, Muscle and joint pain, Eye and vision problems, Weight gain, Stomach pain and loss of appetite.

Tim could be experiencing any of these side effects. Or multiple of them.

3) All the injuries

Tim gets injured a lot. Like. A lot. I went back to a few comics and like:

Car crash. Hits head on steering wheel hard enough that he's obviously dazed and loses consciousness. Almost gets strangled. Gets locked in a freezer with dwindling air supply and passes out from lack of oxygen. That's all just from one comic.

Then the stabbing that loses him his spleen. The batarang to the chest. The slit throat. The whole getting kicked out of a skyscraper window thing. Being shoved off a mechanical dinosaur. Getting stabbed with a katana. Kon breaking his arm while mind-controlled. And those are all just off the top of my head.

Point of the matter being:

Every time it rains, Tim should be feeling each bone break and scarred injury. Rain can also trigger headaches and migraines.

He should have anemia and he should be bleeding a whole lot / bruising a whole lot more than the average person.

LET THE CHARACTERS FEEL CONSEQUENCES AND PAIN DC!!!!!

#tim drake #chronic illness #chronic pain #fictional characters #dc comics #dcu #injury

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wlfhrdlover · 1 year

Note

omg can you please fem!reader who has low iron and she almost faints but Ajax helps her !! 🤗

YES I DEFINITELY CAN

i suffer with low iron too and literally 10 minutes before you sent me these I almost fainted in the middle of my living room 😩

please don't try to dance with your siblings when you just woke up

DIZZY

Ajax Petropolus x fem!reader

summary: you had a lot of things to deal in your week and completely forgot about your condition. Ajax was there to help you.

WARNINGS! mentions of fainting, nosebleeds, anxiety, overthinking, briefly mention of trouble parents.

Exams week.

You hated exams week.

Your parents always made sure that you were the perfect and top student, only the highest grades and the best projects, assignments or anything, they just wanted to see you studying.

If you got an A- or even worse, a B+, it would start a huge fight, one that you always ended up crying and blaming yourself for failing.

But of course, you had your boyfriend to help you in times like this, not that you would listen to him, but you appreciated how Ajax sat with you and made sure that you were at least drinking water properly.

— My beautiful and lovely girlfriend- Ajax pleaded and you frowned looking up from your books- Can you for the love of Zeus take a break? You've been studying for...- he looked at his phone- 5 hours! And you didn't even touched your water!- he panicked.

— I'll eat something in a minute baby, I just really need to finish reading this- you pecked his lips and he sighed.

— Fine, promise?- he asked and you nodded.

— Promise my love- he smiled and hugged your waist.

You pulled an all night study session and of course you forgot to eat and take your supplements, truth be told, you definitely forgot about your condition.

Your iron deficiency were the reason that Ajax was always worried about the exams week, he would always remind you to at least take your supplements, but you were stubborn and forgot things way too easily.

So when you finally finished the last test and got up, everything hit you like a truck.

Your head almost exploded when you walked to your teacher's table, she smiled while taking your paper.

When you started to walk you more and more felt dizzy, but then your phone almost bursted with messages.

Your parents.

They started to bombard you with questions "how it went?", "you made sure to get only the right answers?", "did you studied enough?".

It plagued your brain and you could feel your lungs aching, what if you failed?

What if you really failed all of your tests and your parents would get disappointed again?

Everything seemed to spin around you.

You didn't eat, you didn't took your supplements, you barely slept in the last 2 days that were the time Ajax didn't checked to see if you were taking care of yourself.

And now your overthinking and anxiety bursted you.

The lack of oxygen in your body being noticed far away.

Ajax walked out of his class and his eyes quickly spotted you, you were frozen in the hallway, eyes almost closing, way more pale than usual, legs shaking.

— Shit- he whispered and Kent jumped when Ajax dropped his things and ran in your direction.

Fortunately he got there in time, your body failed on you, Ajax quickly held you when your vision darkened, the well known dark circles made your head hurt.

— It's okay, it's okay- Ajax said more to himself than to you, he slowly and gently laid you down on the floor.

He saw this happening way too much times to not know how to deal with it, Ajax even took time to talk with the Nevermore's nurse to know what to do in case you fainted in front of him again.

He unbuttoned your blazer and loosened the tie, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your shirt.

Curious eyes and bodies moved in their way but Enid and Kent who were nearby and noticed what happened were quickly to shoo them away.

— You're okay my love, do you want some water?- Ajax asked quietly seeing that you were slowly coming to your senses again.

— Yes- you muttered and he helped you up, he waited a minute to see if it was safe to sit you up, you held his arm tightly and blinked but nodded, he used his own body to help you, your back on his chest as Ajax held the water bottle for you.

— Can you stand up?- he asked but he got his answer immediately when your nose started to bleed- Okay, I need to pick you up, is that okay?- he asked and you nodded holding your nose.

Ajax tried to not move you so fast when he picked you up, you laid your head on his shoulder and he calmly but quickly got you in the nursery.

Ajax massaged your scalp as you leaned closer on his body.

— You scared me for a minute- he whispered.

After a whole round of supplements and iron-rich food you found yourself in Ajax's room, more specifically, on his bed, laying on his chest.

— I'm sorry- you muttered and he kissed your head.

— I told you to eat love, you know how bad they can get if you don't- he said and you nodded and sighed- I know that your parents are full assholes but you need to think about yourself first, I really worry about you, you know that right?- you smiled and looked at him.

Ajax's free hand were caressing your waist in comfort, your skin were warm now but he shrived when remembering how cold you were earlier.

— I love you Jax, I'll try to take care of myself so I don't worry you again- you said and he kissed your lips.

— You worry me every day because I love you, but it's far from pleasing seeing you pale and cold with a nosebleed, so for the sake of your beautiful boyfriend, you better start to take care of yourself- he said and you laughed, he smiled.

— Beautiful boyfriend yeah?- you teased and he laughed, flipping your bodies around so now he was hovering over you, you smiled and took his face between your hands.

— Is that the only part you got, pretty girl?- he asked and you only giggled, he started to attack you with kisses and you laughed the whole night.

You absolutely loved Ajax.

#ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus fluff #wednesday #fluff #georgie farmer x reader #georgie farmer #georgie farmer fluff

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yeahimcal · 9 months

Text

Auaghaugh…. Experiencing the horrors (thinking about Cyberflower again)

I think Margo likes to kiss Miles’ hands,, the tips of his fingers and his palms and the back of his hand and the inside of his wrist.,,, she thinks it’s so delicate and tender and it always flusters him so so much she loves it

Miles likes to kiss her nose…. He loves to squish her whole face together and kiss her nose before giving her a peck on the lips while they both giggle,,, he really just likes to kiss her all over her face

Mmm. Miles draws all his friends a lot bc they’re so cool looking but he has a small pile of sketchbooks that are JUST Margo. Like literally just full of drawings of her. He had Polaroids of her hanging up around his bed both at the dorms and at his house.

Oh Margo loooooves to cook with Rio. When she stays for dinner she’s always shadowing Rio and helping with whatever needs helping with. Jeff and Miles are banished to the couch eternally they aren’t allowed in the kitchen. Miles isn’t that bad he’s just not allowed in there bc it’s girl time. Jeff is banned from the kitchen 100% of the time

Miles is such a sappy nerd and Margo loves listening to music in unique ways so Miles has made her 3 mixtapes, burnt 5 cds, bought her all her favorites on records, recorded himself singing and given her his ‘album’ of love songs on a private website that is password protected so only she can listen to them (the password is their anniversary).

They watch shitty reality tv together and lose their minds all the time like they tune in to every episode of Bad Boy Love Island (Volcano Special) season 4 and hate it so much but oh my god they love it

Margo is very sentimental! She has saved every flower Miles ever given her and dried them out and kept them in a box under her bed. She takes the box out and looks at them when she’s sad.

They love love love to snuggle. Rio and Jeff have come home at least twenty times to find them passed out in Miles’ bed, curled around each other with sour gummy worms (Margo’s fav) and Junior Mints (Miles’ fav) spilling out of the container and onto the bed. They’re SO SILLY.

Anyways sorry for being plagued with visions. As if I can help it

#across the spiderverse #proshippers dni #miles morales #miles x margo #margo kess #spiderbyte #Spider-Man #atsv headcanons #Cyberflower #flowerbyte #I love them 😭#pls let them be happy #I just want them to be happy #begging pleading etc

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andiwriteordie · 11 months

Note

HIIII i have a prompt for u,

have mike get a vecna vision where will dies in his arms. 🤭🤭🤭

this is not a want its a NEED.

im in the mood for angst rn and i love ur art style so...... 😊😊

oh this was a cruel cruel prompt 😈

here's a ficlet that turned into a fic because i combined it with another prompt lol 🫡

—

holding hands, while the walls come tumbling down

It starts like this.

The steady yet nervous thump, thump, thump of a heartbeat that Mike can hear as loud as his own. A body nestled right beside him; an artist’s hands, smooth and soft and ever gentle, intertwined with Mike’s; a boy he has known for nearly his entire life and loved in some way for just as long who is here, here, here lying next to him—all Mike’s for the taking, just like Mike is all his.

It’s quiet in the room, save for the soft sound of their breathing. That, too, moves in time with each other—the gentle rise and fall of their chests as they breathe in and out, in and out, in and out.

Mike would stay here forever if he could. And he thinks—no, no, no; he knows, without a shadow of a doubt in his mind and in his heart—that Will feels the same.

Mike has always prided himself on being the type of person to give everything to what he does. Sometimes (oftentimes), everything isn’t enough, but that doesn’t stop him from giving it his all anyways. He’s never been the type of person to do something halfway; no, for Mike, it’s always been a deep dive into whatever it is he’s set his mind out to. An all or nothing kind of deal.

Will’s different from him. That’s something Mike’s known since their very first conversation, when his excitable, overeager “Hi! Do you want to be my friend?” was met with a quieter, shyer, but no less enthusiastic, “Yes; I – I do!” from Will. He’s not the type of first to run headfirst into something, which is probably good for Mike. It probably keeps them both out of trouble. But when Will does commit to something, when he chooses what he wants, when he decides that Yes, yes, yes, this is something I’m willing to fight for, then he’s every bit as passionate as Mike is.

All or nothing.

There’s no turning back for the two of them, and Mike couldn’t care less. This path they’ve stumbled down on is one they’ve been walking down for quite some time now—together, even though they were both a little too blind and far too stubborn to see it. Now that they can finally see each other, now that everything is out in the light, now that Will knows Mike loves him and Mike knows that Will loves him too, there’s no going back from here. They’ve passed the point of no return, and Mike will be damned if they ever go back to what they used to be.

It’s been a longtime coming for the two of them, and as Will nestles closer to Mike’s side, resting his head on Mike’s chest and letting out another soft, content sigh, Mike can’t help but smile.

The world around them might literally be on the brink of ending—constantly shrouded in darkness, plagued by monsters from the Upside Down, cold and always on the brink of another terrifying, disastrous storm that will threaten to rip Hawkins apart—but Mike has never been happier than he is in this moment, here with Will.

“What’re you thinking about?” comes Will’s quiet, sleepy voice, and Mike glances down at his boyfriend (Boyfriend? Right? Is that what we are now?) and meets Will’s gaze. There’s a softness in his eyes, mixed in with the sleepiness that’s not surprising for how late it must be now, as well as a familiar curiosity.

What’s wrong? Will’s expression also seems to say. Are you okay? Was… was this okay?

Mike just smiles, leaning forward and kissing Will, soft and slow. Immediately, the butterflies in his stomach come back to life, more excited and awake than they’ve ever been before today. “Just about how happy I am,” Mike admits, once he’s pulled away. “I… I never really thought this would happen to me… To us.”

The curiosity melts away from Will’s face, morphing into something softer and something a bit hesitant and shy. He pulls away, ever so slightly, and lies on his side, and Mike does the same, so the two of them are looking directly at one another now. The dim glow of the old lamp that’d made it with Mike all these years—somehow surviving the move from his childhood home to Hawkins Lab and making it through the literal apocalypse—shines down on them, illuminating Will’s face just enough for Mike to see him clearly.

Beautiful is the only word that comes to Mike’s mind.

“I never thought this would happen either,” Will whispers back. There’s a smile tugging at his lips, small and a bit shy, and he reaches forward, tucking some of Mike’s hair back behind his ears. “Part of me thinks I’m just… gonna wake up, and this is all going to have been a dream. Or worse. A trance.”

“Pretty sure it’s not a dream,” Mike says with a laugh, and just for good measure, he kisses Will again, relishing in the way Will’s face immediately brightens. “Or a trance. Unless we’re… both dreaming. Or stuck in a trance.”

“Stranger things have happened to us,” Will points out, just to be difficult.

Mike rolls his eyes, before pulling Will close to him and kissing him again, slower this time and with more intention. Will moves easily in his embrace, following where Mike leads the two of them until their bodies are flush against each other again, filling Mike with that familiar sense of warmth and giddiness. And because it’s Will and because he wants this as much as Mike does, and because they’re both the type of people to go all in—all or nothing—Will kisses him back without any hesitation, his tongue exploring Mike’s mouth like this is the first and last time they’ll ever get to do this and his hands carding through Mike’s hair to pull him close, close, close but not close enough.

“I love you,” Mike breathes. The words come naturally, and though they’ve gone unspoken all night, Mike knows they haven’t gone unsaid. Every single kiss and every single glance and every single touch shared between the two of them has been a whisper of those three words over and over and over again: I love you, I love you, I love you.

And there’s not a single doubt in Mike’s mind that he means it.

A smile forms on Will’s face as he leans away, resting his forehead against Mike’s own. He looks absolutely radiant like this, face illuminated by the soft glow of that old lamp, smile stretching from ear to ear, eyes sparkling with a warmth that screams back to Mike, I love you, I love you, I love you, with just as much enthusiasm and excitement that Mike feels in his own heart.

“I love you too,” Will whispers back, and he reaches forward, cupping Mike’s face gently. “I love you so much.”

Then, without another word, Will closes the space between the two of them once more.

Mike wakes the next morning to the sound of screaming.

The sound startles him right out of whatever dream he’d been having, and Mike flinches sharply, sitting up and looking around the room. His heart pounds inside his chest, and an unsettled, terrified feeling grows inside his stomach as everything inside him switches from a sleepy, even idyllic state to DANGER, DANGER, DANGER mode in a matter of seconds.

Save for the dim light of his desk lamp, the room is relatively dark, and there’s no one else in the room except for Mike and—

And Will.

There’s a terrified look on Will’s face, and much like Mike, he’s looking around the room, eyes darting back and forth nervously like he has no idea where he is or what’s real or whether or not they’re safe. He’s trembling too, hands clenched tightly around Mike’s old blanket, and he seems like he’s just another few moments away from a complete breakdown.

And instantly, Mike’s mind switches from the DANGER, DANGER, DANGER mode to his Will needs me mode.

“Hey,” Mike whispers, scooting close to Will and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Will immediately flinches, startled by the touch, and Mike winces, running his hand up and down Will’s army gently. “Hey, it’s just me, Will. You’re okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream. Whatever you saw… it’s not real.”

That promise – it’s not a new one. After all, the last two-and-a-half years have been full of sleepless nights brought on by otherworldly nightmares. Nobody has been spared from them, but of everyone in the Party, Will has probably suffered the most, thanks to his deeper connection to One. These nightmares are nothing new, and yet, every single time Will suffers from one of them, it feels like a knife in Mike’s heart.

He can’t make the nightmares go away, but he can be there for Will. He can sit with Will until the darkness fades away, back into a vague memory, and he can hold Will and make promises that It’ll be okay; you’ll be okay; I’m not going anywhere; we’ll get through this. That’s really all Mike can do, and so God damn it, that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Usually, it helps. It takes time, but usually, Will is receptive to the comfort, always leaning in close and allowing Mike to hold him until the terror subsides.

But for some reason, this time, Will isn’t so receptive.

It takes a moment, but out of nowhere, Will pushes Mike away, that terrified look still remaining on his face. He’s even paler than he was just a second ago, causing confusion to grow in Mike’s heart and mind. Before Mike can say anything though, Will whispers, “Mike… we have to go. Now.”

There’s an urgency in his voice unlike anything Mike has ever heard before, and that, coupled with the look of pure fear in Will’s eyes, is enough for Mike to understand exactly what’s going on, even before Will says anything about it. After all, there’s only one thing that would scare Will this much, and really, it’s just their shared, awful luck that this would happen today of all days.

They just got together—finally, after years and years of dancing around each other and hiding from themselves and one another and never fully knowing if their feelings would be reciprocated. They just crossed that line from just friends into something more, and now…

Now, the world is actually, quite literally about to end. Now, the two of them stand on the precipice of something that could change everything and could ultimately decide the fate of the rest of the world. Now, the past five years of having their lives uprooted by the Upside Down will come to an end, one way or another.

Mike swallows the lump in the back of his throat, and he turns, meeting Will’s eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it?” he asks quietly, though he already knows the answer.

A grim expression forms on Will’s face, and he takes another slow, shuddered breath, before nodding. “Yeah,” Will whispers back. “It’s him. One’s back, and we… we have to go. Now.”

The words before it’s too late hang on the end of Will’s sentence—unspoken, but not unsaid. He doesn’t have to say anything else or give any other details. Not yet at least. Those will come in time, as soon as they wake up the others and fill them in on what’s happening. But for right now, just between the two of them, all that Will has said is enough.

And Mike gets the awful feeling that… that one way or another, today is going to be the end.

“Okay,” Mike whispers. He takes a deep breath. In and out. In and out. In and out. Then, a bit more confident, “We’ll go wake the others up, and we’ll put an end to this. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Those words aren’t ones that he has any business promising, and both of them know it. Still, Will’s shoulders do relax just a little bit, and he scoots close to Mike once more, taking Mike’s hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay,” Will echoes faintly. “We’ll make it through this.”

There’s a slight tremble in his voice, like he doesn’t know if he believes those words, and truthfully, Mike doesn’t know if he does either. But he forces himself to smile anyways and leans forward, kissing Will’s forehead. “Whatever happens today,” Mike says, his voice quiet, “I want you to know I love you.”

For a moment, it’s quiet in the room—the only sound the faint inhale and exhale from Will and from Mike himself. Then, in a voice that’s impossibly soft but still full of so much certainty, Will replies, “I know… and I love you too. Always.”

He glances back up at Mike with a bittersweet look in his eyes. The words are true, and Mike has no doubt about that in his mind… But both of them know that the words are a bit of a goodbye too—the last chance they might get to say things like this to one another, in case today doesn’t go the way any of them plan for it to.

Best case scenario?

El manages to defeat One. None of their friends or family die. Hawkins and the rest of the world are saved. Somehow, some way, they figure out how to go back to being normal, stupid teenagers, and they put all of this behind them.

Worst case scenario?

Well… Mike doesn’t really want to think about that. Best not to deal in what ifs and best not to let himself become too terrified of the outcome. What matters most is right now and finding the others, so they can actually stand a fighting chance.

What comes later will come later.

“Always,” Mike echoes, just as soft as Will, and because he can—he can now—he leans forward and steals a quick kiss. “Come on. We should go wake the others.”

Downtown Hawkins is a complete wreck.

There’s no other way to describe it. This place has been a ghost town for over two years now, run down and battered and destroyed by the monsters that come up out of the rifts from the Upside Down. That’s no surprise at all, but what is a surprise is just how quickly a ghost town can become a battlefield.

There are monsters everywhere, and large, black vines sprout up from the middle of the town—what used to be the library but has been a massive gate leading to the Upside Down since March 1986. The monsters just keep on coming, hundreds of them crawling, flying, stumbling out of the gate with roars and snarls so loud it’s a miracle Mike’s eardrums don’t burst.

The Party—which now unfortunately includes more than just the close friends Mike’s known since his childhood—has been training for this the entire time. Over three years of preparation have led them to this moment, but even all that time spent training and learning how to fight and how not to immediately die in battle can only get them so far. There’s only a small handful of them, and there are hundreds of monsters.

If El can’t beat One, then there’s no way this doesn’t end with every single last one of them dead at the hands of some twisted, demo-creature.

Still, Mike keeps fighting, operating on nothing but pure adrenaline now. There’s definitely a nasty cut and a bump on his head from a tussle with some mutated demodog of sorts, but Mike barely pays any attention to that. All he can do is keep fighting, shooting down demo-creature after creature and praying to whatever fucking deity may or may not be listening that he doesn’t run out of bullets before this is all said and done.

He’s long since lost track of nearly all the other Party members. El’s off somewhere fighting One. Lucas and Dustin are nowhere to be found but hopefully still alive and hopefully with someone else in their little group. The only person Mike’s managed to keep an eye on this whole time has been Will—and only because he and Will refuse to leave one another’s side. They’ve spent the better part of this battle fighting back-to-back with one another, barrages of well-aimed bullets flying out from their rifles and into the bodies of the monsters threatening to rip them into shreds.

If this is how it ends, then all Mike knows is that he wants to be close to Will.

The battle feels like it goes on forever—or at least long enough that the adrenaline begins to wear off, and the rifle in Mike’s hands begins to feel too heavy, and his limbs start to feel like they’re made out of jello. The exhaustion settles in, but there’s no time for that. Not when monster after monster keeps coming through the massive gate by the old library. So, despite the fact that everything begins to become a blur around him and it feels a bit like Mike is swimming underwater, trying his damnedest just to stay afloat, Mike keeps going and going and going in this hazy state until—

Until a scream pulls him right out of the haze.

That scream is the gravity that takes Mike’s hand and pulls, pulls, pulls until Mike is crashing back down to earth in a crumpled heap. Suddenly, Mike feels more awake and more attuned to his surroundings and filled with a newfound strength that wasn’t there before.

It comes too little, too late though.

Because as Mike turns around, looking in the direction that the scream had just come from, he feels his heart drop all the way to the bottom of his stomach. Pure panic and terror settle into his heart and mind, replacing the exhaustion from before, and in an instant, it’s like everything within Mike has been reoriented, only able to focus on one thing.

On one person.

“Will!”

The scream tears itself from Mike’s throat, and before he can even process it, Mike is sprinting to where his boyfriend now lies on the ground, bright red blood pooling around him. The two of them must’ve gotten separated only moments ago, because Will’s a few feet away from him, and there’s a whimpering, half-dead demo-creature lying halfway between the two of them. The blood from the creature flows down the street, joining the pool of Will’s blood, and Mike fights the urge to gag as he throws himself down onto the pavement beside him.

The battle rages on all around the two of them, monstrous roars still echoing in the streets of their hometown—the horrific soundtrack to what is easily the worst moment of Mike’s life.

Because up close, it becomes even more clear just how bad Will’s injuries are. What’s left of his shirt is soaked in blood, and the tattered remains of the shirt barely cover the open wounds in Will’s chest and stomach. Every single breath he takes is labored and trembling, and already, his eyes have become glassy and distant.

He’s dying.

Will is dying, and if Mike doesn’t do anything about it, he’s going to lose him, he’s going to lose Will, oh God, he’s going to lose Will, oh God, oh God, oh God—

“M-Mike?”

It’s Will’s wheezy, strained voice that snaps Mike out of the panic, and Mike flinches sharply, looking down at his boyfriend. Will’s eyes flutter open and closed, open and closed, and he struggles to keep them open as he looks up at Mike. He’s even paler than he was just mere moments again.

He’s fading. Quickly. Faster than Mike can even keep up with, let alone do something about.

Will is dying.

And Mike is going to lose him.

“J-just hold on, Will,” Mike manages to say, except that it comes out as more of a hoarse croak. His own chest feels tight, like someone is squeezing all the air right out from his lungs, and Mike chokes back a sob, weakly reaching for Will and pulling him into his arms. “Just hold on, okay? Okay, just hold on; you’re going to be okay; just hold on—HELP! Someone please! HELP! HELP US!”

Somehow, there’s no one around. Nobody can hear the strangled, desperate screams that are coming out of Mike’s mouth; nobody is around to see him sobbing and hugging Will tighter, as if somehow holding on to him will keep him here and keep him alive. Not even the demo-creatures, who were just surrounding them and threatening their lives, are around.

It’s just Mike and Will here.

Nobody is coming to help them.

Will is dying.

And Mike is going to lose him.

“I’m sorry,” Mike gasps, looking back down at Will through the blurry tears in his eyes. “Will, I… I don’t think… I don’t know if—”

“Shh,” Will whispers, and he reaches up weakly, placing a trembling hand on Mike’s cheek. Somehow, he manages a smile, though his lips and teeth are stained red with blood. “Shh… Mike… ‘s okay… ‘s okay.”

Every single word out of his mouth sounds strained, as if it hurts to say anything, and Mike bites back a sob, holding Will closer. “It’s not okay,” he whispers back, shaking his head. “I – I don’t… I don’t want to lose you, Will. You can’t go; please, you can’t—”

Again, Will offers him a smile, and he runs his thumb carefully, gently across Mike’s cheek. “You… you’ll be okay,” he murmurs and takes another quiet, labored breath. Then: “I… I’m glad you’re… here with me.”

The words feel like a knife in Mike’s already wounded heart, twisting deeper and deeper and delivering the final blow. That familiar feeling of desperation crawls back up to the surface as Mike tries to think of something—anything—he can do to save Will. There has to be something that can be done, some way to save Will, some solution that will keep them from the ending they’re quickly approaching.

But without anyone nearby, there’s nothing that can be done. There’s no solution, no way to save Will at this point, nothing that Mike can do.

Nothing except for sit here and stay with Will until the very end.

So, that’s exactly what Mike does.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mike promises softly, and he tilts his head, pressing a kiss against Will’s palm. The tears won’t stop now; they just keep coming and coming, dripping down Mike’s cheeks and onto the bloody ground. “I’ll stay here with you, Will… until… until…”

His voice trails off, dissolving into another sob, but Will gets exactly what Mike is trying to say. He always does, and though he looks exhausted and barely able to hold on any longer, Will smiles up at Mike and takes his other hand, interlacing their fingers.

Time, the strange thing that it is, seems to slow down around them. It’s as if Mike is having an out-of-body experience, watching all this happen in slow motion around them—a mere observer to the worst moment of his life and the end of Will’s.

“I love you,” Will murmurs, breathless and barely audible now.

“I love you too,” Mike whispers back, and he squeezes Will’s hand tightly, afraid to let go. The world shrinks and shrinks and shrinks until it’s just the two of them, frozen in this slow motion reality, and he watches as Will’s eyes flutter open and closed, open and closed, open… and closed.

He doesn’t open his eyes again.

And Mike’s world comes crashing down.

All at once, it’s as if the dam has burst, and another desperate, broken sob rips itself from Mike’s throat: “Will!”

Whatever sense of peace or at least acceptance that he might have found lulled into during Will’s last moments has all but disappeared now—replaced by a gut-wrenching, all-consuming, grief that washes over him like a flood. The rest of the world still feels far away, as if nothing else in the world matters but Will, Will, Will.

Will is gone.

He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s lying here and is dead in Mike’s arms, he isn’t breathing anymore, and his blood is all over the ground and all over Mike, and he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone—

“I’m sorry,” Mike whispers brokenly, and he holds onto Will’s lifeless body, rocking back and forth in some desperate attempt to wake him up or to do something, anything, to fix this. “P-please come back, Will; please, please, please don’t go, please come back, don’t leave me, please don’t go, please, Will, please come back, please, Will—”

Time passes in its ever strange, inconsistent movement. It’s hard something that Mike can’t keep track of—not when his focus is solely on Will.

But then, out of nowhere, something pulls Mike’s focus away from Will.

The air grows colder around the two of them; a pervasive, terrifying feeling of evil and darkness settles over downtown Hawkins. It’s familiar but jarring all at once, and Mike can’t help but shudder, holding Will’s body closer to his own. Slowly but surely, reality begins to settle back in, trickling in little by little through the cracks of Mike’s broken heart and mind.

The world around him is eerily quiet and terrifyingly still. Unlike the battlefield from before, downtown Hawkins has once again been reduced to nothing but a near silent ghost town. Gone are the vicious snarls and growls of monsters. Gone is the sound of bullets ricocheting through the air. Gone are the screams and furious cries of his friends and family.

In place of all of that is the simple sound of footsteps approaching him.

The footsteps are quickly approaching. Each step taken is one made with intention, and the movement brings that pervasive feeling of darkness closer and closer to Mike until the air around him feels near suffocating. All the while, Mike’s heart pounds in a nervous thumpthumpthump as the realization settles back in.

The battle is over.

There is no one left—no one but Mike.

All of his family, his friends, Will… they’re all gone.

And One has done it. He’s finally succeeded.

This is it.

This is the end.

As the footsteps approach, Mike takes a deep breath, and he leans down, pressing one last kiss to Will’s forehead. If this is it, if this is the end, if somehow Mike is the last person left of the Party, then he won’t go down without a fight. It doesn’t matter how futile it is. Mike has to at least try.

So, he gathers up all the courage left inside of him, and Mike lifts his head, daring to look One in the eye.

Icy blue eyes meet Mike’s own for the first time as something akin to a smile forms on One’s face. He looks pleased—amused even—and stops, just a few feet away from Mike and Will. “Michael Wheeler,” One says, voice low and gravelly, “we meet at last.”

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, doing the best to ignore the way his stomach is twisted into knots. It feels impossible—that he would be the last person standing here after all this fighting and bloodshed. Mike’s never been much of a hero, and God knows that he barely stands a fighting chance against One.

Still, his friends died trying to fight One and the monsters of the Upside Down. Will died trying to fight One and the monsters of the Upside Down. And if Mike is going to die too, then… so be it.

“Rot in hell,” Mike spits, his own voice full of venom. His rifle’s long since gone, tossed aside somewhere in the desperation to save Will, so all he’s got left to fight with now are his words. Those will just have to do.

One just chuckles and takes another step towards Mike, gesturing to the ruins of downtown Hawkins. “Look around you, Michael,” he says coldly, and against his own better judgment, Mike does so, his breath hitching as he takes in the carnage from the battle. “Do you see what I have done? Do you see what I am capable of? Do you see how futile fighting back is?”

Suddenly, it feels as though some invisible force is wrapped around Mike, and it pulls him all the way to his feet with a terrified yelp. The force squeezes him so tightly Mike feels like he can barely breathe, and it brings him forward until Mike finds himself barely inches away from One.

Another twisted smile forms on One’s face. He reaches forward, running his large, clawed hand down Mike’s cheek, and whispers, “You’re going to send a message for me, Michael Wheeler.”

Barely a moment after the words have left his mouth, the visions begin.

The visions are familiar—some moments that Mike has lived through and seen with his own two eyes and others that he’s only heard about from his friends and family. They flash across his eyes at dizzying, overwhelming speeds, one right after another after another.

At first, the visions are moments from today. Glimpses of the battle they all have just fought and lost, the screams of his friends and family, the snarls and growls of hundreds of demo-creatures coming out from the gates. But then, the visions work their way backwards, moving through moments in time from patrols over these past two years, Upside Down storms that began to cover Hawkins, and sporadic monster attacks that they almost didn’t survive.

The day at the meadow flashes through Mike’s line of sight too, before it quickly melts away into memories not belonging to himself. A jarring CRACK resonates through his mind as he watches Max’s bones snap and sees the gates ripping across all of Hawkins during that spring. Then, even before that, he sees Eddie’s death, sees his friends fighting for their lives against demobats and against vines, sees El and Max struggling against One’s power over them.

Suddenly, it’s the summer before, with the Mind Flayer and the Flayed and Billy. Starcourt Mall, going up in flames as the Mind Flayer’s fleshy form towered over and chased all of them. Black tendrils tracing up and down Billy’s face as an otherworldly horror controlled his actions. Will’s haunted whisper that the Mind Flayer was back, that this wasn’t over, that they still hadn’t escaped this.

Then, it’s the fall before that. The tunnels and the massive gate to the Upside Down. The night at the lab, with demodogs tearing through flesh and bone and with people screaming and crying for help. The Mind Flayer’s shadowy form, descending on Will, choking him, filling him up, and taking over his mind and body.

Finally, the visions end with that very first fall. The demogorgon, feasting on Brenner’s men at Hawkins Middle School. Hopper and Joyce finding Will in Upside Down. Will hiding and running for his life in the Upside Down, all alone with no one to help him. Barb screaming for help as the demogorgon rips her to shreds, and then—

Will.

Riding his bike through Hawkins, that very first night when this all began.

“Tell Will,” One’s voice whispers into the silence of Will’s bike ride through Hawkins, “that I am coming. The end is near, Michael. And there is nothing any of you can do to stop what I have been planning all along.”

One last vision flickers across Mike’s line of sight.

A memory that he still remembers, clear as day.

“It was a seven,” Will’s twelve year-old self says to Mike’s own younger self.

“Huh?”

“The roll,” Will explains. “It was a seven. The demogorgon – it got me. Well, see you tomorrow!”

And just like that, Will’s younger self rides away, leaving Mike’s younger self standing just outside his garage.

Mike watches as the garage light flickers above his younger self.

Then, in the next instant, he finds himself falling into the darkness.

The darkness seems to last for an eternity.

There’s an inky black void surrounding him as Mike falls, and he can’t help but scream, reaching out for something, anything to pull himself back up. But there’s absolutely nothing there to hold onto, so Mike just continues to fall and fall and fall, further and further into the darkness.

Then, suddenly, the darkness dissipates. The fog clears just a little bit, enough for Mike to hear someone call out his name: “MIKE!”

Will?

“MIKE!” the person—that’s Will, it has to be Will—calls again, more desperate this time, and Mike reaches back up, trying to grasp onto anything that will pull him out of the darkness. The way out seems just a little bit closer now, getting easier to reach out to as Will calls his name again, “MIKE! MIKE! MI—”

And with a gasp, Mike opens his eyes.

Light floods his line of sight, replacing the never-ending darkness at an overwhelmingly fast pace. Mike’s mind feels like it’s racing at a million miles an hour, and his heart is pounding inside his chest, so hard that it almost hurts to breathe. All the while, the room spins around and around and around and around and—

Suddenly, Mike’s knees buckle, nearly sending him crashing to the ground. Fortunately, someone—Will—is there to catch him, and though the two of them both stumble, Will manages to break his fall. “Mike?” he asks, voice full of concern. “Mike, hey, are you okay?”

There are tears in Will’s eyes, and his face looks blotchy, like he’s been crying. Still, even with the worry written all over his expression, there’s relief there too, and Mike takes a shuddered breath, choosing to focus on Will.

Will’s here. Will’s here, and he – he’s alive. He’s alive. Mike didn’t lose him. He’s not dead. Will isn’t dead.

Which means…

That entire battle must have been a vision from One. An opportunity for One to pass along a message that he’d been waiting to send. And… a warning for what’s still to come.

“Shit,” Mike whispers. “Shit. Will, we have to – he… One… I—”

“Hey, just take a deep breath,” Will says worriedly, and he hesitates, before reaching for Mike’s hand. “Just breathe, okay? Mike, you – you were in that trance for a while. We couldn’t snap you out of it, and I… I thought I was going to lose you.”

Will’s voice breaks on those last few words, breaking Mike’s heart with it. “I’m still here,” Mike reassures, reaching up and cupping Will’s cheek as gently as he can. “I’m still here, Will.”

A bright rosy blush spreads across Will’s face as his eyes widen and glance at Mike’s hand. “I know you are,” he replies quietly, “but I… I still could’ve lost you. I – I mean… we all could have.”

The memories of seeing Will’s mangled body on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood, come back to the forefront of Mike’s mind, and he can’t help but shudder. Without giving it another thought, he wraps his arms around Will, hugging him as tight as he possibly can.

Mike… he still has no idea how much of the past two days have actually been part of his vision from One versus how much was real. There’s no doubt in his mind that the battle itself and his encounter with One were all a result of being held in a trance, but as for… as for everything that came before that—confessing his love for Will and learning about Will’s feelings in return—Mike isn’t honestly sure.

There’s a part of him that thinks… maybe that stuff was just too good to be true. Maybe Mike did make that all up in his mind, or maybe it was just a trick from One, designed to taunt him before delivering the final blow. Maybe what happened with Will the night before that battle was nothing more than just a dream.

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he tries not to think about that as Will hugs him tighter and buries his head in Mike’s shoulder. “I’m still here,” Mike repeats, softer now than before. “We’re both still here… We’re not going to lose each other, Will.”

“The end is near, Michael,” One’s voice echoes through his mind—the cruel threat solidified in his mind now as a promise. This isn’t over. What Mike saw in his vision… it may very well come to pass.

And just like Will once said to him, One isn’t going to stop until he takes everything and everyone.

“And there is nothing any of you can do to stop what I have been planning all along,” One had told him, as the visions of Will leaving Mike’s house on that fateful night had played out for him like a twisted home video.

More importantly, One isn’t going to stop until takes Will.

Mike can’t let that happen. He can’t lose Will.

Will takes a shaky breath of his own, and he pulls away, just enough for the two of them to look at each other, and offers Mike a tiny smile. “We won’t,” he agrees softly. He hesitates, then carefully lifts his hand, resting it against Mike’s cheek. “Are you… are you okay?”

Will’s hand is warm against Mike’s face, and his touch feels like electricity. There’s something so genuine and so tender about the way that he’s looking at Mike and the way he gently runs his thumb across Mike’s cheek, over and over again. He’s here—warm and firm and solid, close enough that Mike is able to take his hand and hold on and never let go.

Will’s here. He’s okay. He’s safe.

And for now, that’s all that matters.

So, even in spite of One’s haunting message and the visions from their past and the warnings of the future, Mike finds the ability to smile. He reaches up, putting his hand over Will’s, and he nods. “I’m okay. You’re here, so… I’m okay.”

Those words cause Will’s face to turn an even brighter shade of red, but he smiles regardless, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Mike’s own. He takes Mike’s other free hand in his own and doesn’t say anything else—not that Mike needs him to. They’ve always been able to communicate without words, and this time is no different.

Sure, the future might be bleak, and there’s no telling whether One’s visions will come to pass, even in spite of their best efforts to fight back. But right here, right now, he and Will are together. They’re both safe, and they’re both here.

All they can do is take this moment for what it's worth and hold onto each other while they still can.

And for now, it ends in very much the same way that Mike thinks it began.

The steady yet nervous thump, thump, thump of a heartbeat that Mike can hear as loud as his own. A body nestled close beside him; an artist’s hands, smooth and soft and ever gentle, intertwined with Mike’s; a boy he has known for nearly his entire life and loved in some way for just as long who is here, here, here right in front—all Mike’s for the taking, just like Mike is all his.

#byler #byler fanfic #andi writes not dies #byler ficlet

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nayatarot777 · 1 year

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*Spirit The Bounty Hunter* What Karma Do Your Spirit Guides Hand Out To Your Enemies? 🤺🧿🚑

*photos from pinterest

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• pile one •

who are your enemies?

a lot of your enemies are extremely immature, and i feel like the conflict that they cause is through being passive aggressive or petty in some way. they don’t think before they speak and they also try to cover up the way that they truly feel about things, while showing how they actually feel about something in a very roundabout way. a lot of your enemies have higher levels of narcissistic traits. maybe they’re even diagnosed with a personality disorder or a mental illness that narcissistic behaviour can be a symptom of, for a small number of you - or they would be if they actually self reflected and realised that they think and behave far from normally 🙃. i feel like the karma for a lot of these people is actually you. the universe made you guys cross paths because you were the one who was supposed to shatter their illusion of themselves. these people could continuously be surrounded by people who praise them or condone them. “yes men”, i’m hearing. i’m seeing that you guys are the types to call people out on their shit. because why shouldn’t you when they’re negatively affecting you and/or other people with their bullshit that you shouldn’t have to put up with? and they try to punish you for that. i feel like they’re usually met with a side to you that they haven’t seen before though, and that intimidates them to a very high degree. they don’t expect the switch up in personality or behaviour from you.

their karma for their bs

these enemies’ karma is that they experience major endings in life. usually in an extremely painful way - mentally painful most of all. a lot of them face a betrayal that they never saw coming. betrayal from people who they could have chosen or prioritised over you. it’s impossible for them to get out of this tower moment unless they face the truth like they need to and unless they choose to make a complete change in their life. that’s why so many of them are plagued with this karma for such a long time. because they refuse to acknowledge that they’ve manipulated the truth enough, causing nothing but harm and the continuation of bad behaviour. I’m hearing that for a lot of them they’re actually forced into starting life as they know it completely over in terms of what they think, what they value, what they say, etc. But this is like literal torture to them. They could feel oppressed after fucking with you. It’s like your guides are wrapping strong binds around their crown chakra, throat chakra, and root chakra specifically. The breaking of their family’s generational curses are significant in the ending of this karma too, as an aspect of shadow work. The realisation that they can’t “win” whatever conflict they’re in with you also forces them to realise that they’re having to “flee” or avoid this situation in some type of way, doing a lot of damage to their ego. i heard that they realise that they’re not untouchable.

• pile two •

who are your enemies?

your enemies could be people who are really disillusioned by money and the material world. i’m seeing someone having tunnel vision when it comes to making money and gaining materialism, to the point where they’re actually extremely lonely. they see the physical world as the most important aspect of life and they could even use people for some type of physical gain. these people could also prioritise their external image and/or appearance to cover up their internal, emotional, and mental issues. they could also be quite naive and gullible when it comes to new relationships and friendships. i feel like these people could also put others on a pedestal for some reason. they’re also very judgemental - especially of what others look like as well as other people’s relationships and connections (which is so fucking ironic because their’s is always a damn mess 😂). they focus more energy into creating judgement about others instead of making judgements on who THEY truly are. these people project all the time. they ignore the truth and reality of what’s presented to them if it’s not a truth that they like. i’m picking up on a lot of emotional manipulation from these people.

their karma for their bs

their karma always begins with people losing interest in them. i’m seeing someone competing for attention but all of their efforts being futile. someone else who’s much more respected and cared for comes along and knocks these people off of their “throne” and their high horse. i’m hearing “permanent damage to reputation”. i feel like things that they keep hidden or even a secret eventually come out, and they have to answer to many different people for their actions. maybe even give out many apologies. i’m seeing them being overwhelmed with judgement from others funnily enough. and i’m also hearing “societal judgement”. i’m picking up on community shame. you know how people used to throw tomatoes and shit at someone who was shamed in public, centuries ago? 😂 they’re forced to realise that they had people fucked up with the way that they judged and treated people before. i feel like a lot of these people are exposed for being hypocrites too. they feel defeated by the end of all of this and there’s nothing that they can do about it. especially from all of the connections that they permanently lose - particularly with authority figures or people who just have a high status. their reputation is thoroughly ruined. they shouldn’t have fucked with you, pile 2 👀.

• pile three •

who are your enemies?

hi, pile three! your enemies are those who made you feel as though you weren’t a priority for them. they didn’t value you as much as they did other people because you were different to them. this could be in terms of something to do with your identity (gender, age, race, sexuality, etc.). so this could have been someone who you had a different gender, race, nationality, religion, or sexuality to. discriminatory beliefs held on their part could have played a part in any behaviours of devaluation from this person. overall, they just didn’t value you as much as they did other people in their life. or as much as they did themselves in a situation. you ended up protecting yourself because these people were blocking your blessings in many ways. they could have been draining energetically, and i’m feeling like they were always looking for you to bring balance to their life whenever they needed it. giving very much user energy. you stopped letting them use you though and they got angry and upset like the energy vampires they are 😂. these people also cling onto their egos as a way to avoid having to hear and acknowledge the truth about themselves. they try to control things too much. these people don’t like internally changing and becoming self aware because they don’t like admitting that they’re wrong for doing something. they have very fragile egos and can’t handle anything that brings them out of their comfort zone. they could feel chronic shame and low self esteem which they use their egos to cover up. these people are extremely emotionally immature and emotionally dysregulated, considering the extents that they’ll go to to not admit “defeat” (in their minds).

their karma for their bs

their karma is that they eventually reach a point in their lives where people don’t show them love as much as they did before. if you resonate with the message above about having them use you for balance in their lives, the lack of balance that ensues after you leave their lives really affects their other relationships and connections with people. they feel neglected from care and nurture. they also feel like they’re restricted in expressing how they feel to others too, perhaps because they surround themselves with much more surface level friendships and connections, unlike whatever type of connection that they had with you - yet they still prioritised these people over you like fucking dummies. i’m seeing them wanting to send a message to you but knowing that they’d face rejection. they could even start facing rejection from everyone else because them trying to replace you as their emotional nurturer or free therapist by forcing emotional offloading onto the same people that they chose over you never works out well for them. serves them right. they’re forced to be more dedicated to logic than emotions, and as a result of this, their pent up emotions come out in the form of harsh communication. they don’t think before they speak with the people around them anymore because they’re forced to hold onto their own emotional burdens now. this comes out in passive aggressive communication for them. maybe this is why people stop giving them as much love as before. they’re forced to learn self control and i’m hearing “more respect”. maybe they used their feelings about things as an excuse to disrespect people in the past, but they’re forced to actually focus on self accountability and self responsibility now. they’re forced to control how they speak to people and how they treat people. also to focus on making connections with others much more balanced. and i feel like these people don’t like balance. they like to take and not give much in return.

• pile four •

who are your enemies?

your enemies are people who seem to be reserved with most of what they actually think about you, but i feel like these are people who are surprised at your ability to still recognise what they actually think of you or what they have planned. they could have dealt with “foot in mouth” syndrome and accidentally exposed themselves when they didn’t mean to. they fear you and what you know - specifically what you know that you don’t speak of. probably about them. they feel caught up in a bind with something. they’re very cowardly and they could have tried to actively flee a situation and escape from having to answer for something. i’m also hearing that they could also be an opportunist. these are the types of people to not like you but still stick around for the opportunities or benefits that you bring. whatever they tried to get away with, you saw it clearly and they ran from the consequences (or tried to). they tried to gain control over whatever situation they felt exposed in. i’m even seeing that they tried to control your growth in some way, or whatever you were doing in life in an unsuspecting, sneaky, sabotaging way. they’re people in daily life who struggle to keep themselves balanced and in control of their basic responsibilities.

their karma for their bs

i’m hearing “capped”. their stability and comfort is capped in some way. they have to slow down with whatever they’re trying to build or attain in their own lives which leaves them feeling extremely behind in life. i’m also hearing that they’re weighed down by other people’s expectations - particularly by their family. perhaps their father or a masculine/bossy/father figure in their lives. they’re forced to settle for building something with someone who they’re not entirely happy with. they’re forced to commit to something that they feel holds them back and slows them down in life. and i’m even hearing “faking happiness”. it’s like they have to wear a mask and cover up every aspect of their genuine self for the sake of a partnership with someone else that they’re having to invest into something with. and i’m hearing that they “get in over their heads” with something or someone. idk if this is some type of contract, or living situation, or relationship that they find themselves in - but they don’t even feel mature or ready enough for this situation. they want their freedom with something but they feel like they’re having to live their lives more maturely than they’re ready for because of their rash decisions.

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