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#I was way too sleep deprived to understand myself
lovings4turn · 13 days
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ᯓ★ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 (𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬)
aka. becca was inspired by her love for starface patches and wrote this in her sleep deprived state !! hope you enjoy anyway loves <33
breakouts suck.
it’s a universal fact, one you think would be impossible to argue with no matter who you are. nothing can truly make them enjoyable, per-se, but you believe you’ve found a way to bring a hint of amusement to the infuriating spots: colourful pimple patches. more specifically, ones shaped like stars that came in an array of colours for you to choose from.
gone from sight are the unwanted guests on your face, replaced by a smattering of mini yellow, purple, and pink stars that dust your forehead, chin, and nose.
another bonus? your boyfriend seems to be pretty fond of them, too.
jack is currently cuddled up to you, head resting against your chest, when he lifts his head to admire you for a moment. brows furrow, and a finger extends to poke at the star sitting on the bridge of your nose.
“i meant to ask you, baby. what are these?” he asks, voice tinged with mirth. “trying out a new look?”
you snort, swatting gently at his hand that begins to peel at one of the patches in curiosity.
half of you wants to mess with him, come up with some crazy, convoluted reasoning behind the stars gracing your face. the other part of you is far too tired to think of something right now, and to deal with his consequent onslaught of questions and excitement.
“ha ha.” your tone is dry, but your eyes give you away, soft as you look back at him. “they’re pimple patches. supposed to stop you touching them while they heal, or something like that.”
your nose scrunches a little at the explanation you provide, and jack produces an ‘ah’ of understanding.
“i like them. ‘s like your own personal little constellation,” he supplies, toothy grin stretching wider as he makes a point of lightly poking each star, tracing their pattern to map out his own galaxy.
“yeah. my own constellation,” you echo, surprised at just how sweet your voice comes out, the short word thick and syrupy like honey.
as he finally reaches the sticker sat on your chin, you part your lips and playfully nip at his finger, letting out a laugh at his disgruntled look.
“that’s for poking at them,” you declare, pressing a kiss to the pad of his finger to placate his pout. “i put them on to stop myself from messing with them, and look what happens.”
“can you blame me? sitting there looking all pretty with some colourful stars on y’face and you expect me not to touch them?”
before you can respond, jack speaks again.
“and just for the record, i’m so stealing those from you.”
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tainsan · 10 months
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misfits IV (college!ateez x reader)
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pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader
warnings: cursing, negligence, mentions of suicide, a fight between yeosang and yunho
word count: 8.5k
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--- THIS IS AN 18+ STORY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---
“You’re also adding the overall total to the mean, it doesn’t need to be there.” You explain to Jeongin, who immediately face plants into his palm.
“Are you serious?” He groans, understanding his amateur mistake. You recognise the frustration, relating to the problems, having them yourself in the past due to being very stressed and sleep deprived.
“Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us.”
Jeongin and you are sat side by side in the quiet solitude of the library, Jeongin finds himself engrossed in the assignment, his brow furrowed as he surveys over his mistake. The air is filled with a hushed diligence, the only sounds being the soft rustling of papers and the occasional scratch of pen against paper. The library offers a sanctuary for their focused work, providing a space free from distractions where they can dive deep into the realm of knowledge and learning. You are not too far from the spot where you tutored San and Jongho last week. Yet you decided to stay away from the particular spot, so you don’t get too distracted by the strong memories and thoughts of the two men.
“I feel like I could’ve sorted that out by myself, I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Jeongin looks extremely apologetic, and you can’t help but feel bad for him.
“It’s really okay, my morning was free anyways, and I’m always glad to help a friend.” You smile at him, his remorseful gaze melting away and being replaced by his signature eye smile.
“You better get going though, you’ve got an important date to attend to.” You wink at him, wiggling your eyebrows jokingly. Jeongin rolls his eyes before grabbing his things and bidding you a sweet goodbye. You reflect on Jeongin’s happiness, a wave of warmth and affection washes over your heart. Thoughts of your friend finding someone he truly likes, brings a genuine smile to your face. Silently hoping that this newfound relationship will last, the look on his features pure.
As the time passes by, you realise it’s time to find Jisung and attempt to explain your situation in a way that won’t freak him out too much. Grabbing your phone, you send him a text that you’re in the library, you await his presence by editing the finishing an assignment that needs to be uploaded by tomorrow.
“Girl, I haven’t heard from you in days where the fuck have you been?” Jisung’s voice speaks from behind you loudly, causing fellow library attendants to send him pointed glares. Jisung sends the look back, telling them to mind their business before bringing you into a warm hug. The two of you sit down next to each other, your assignment pushed to the side. Turning to your best friend, you give him the apologetic look you can muster.
“It’s been really crazy, I’m so sorry.” You reply, regretful for denying the events from the past few days from your best friend, knowing it would’ve been much more manageable with Jisung by your side.
“Right? Minho told me that Kim fucking Hongjoong came into your lecture and demanded you to see him?”
You grimace, remembering that day and how likely it was that the whole school is talking about you right now, “yeah that did happen?”
“Did he threaten you? Stab you? Poison you? You know he’s the leader of the group, right?”
“Yeah, a good leader too.”
“Is that seriously the only thing you got from that sentence?”
“Jisung I’m fine, he actually offered me a place to live…” your words are careful, trying to be quiet, knowing someone is probably listening to your conversation after hearing the words ‘Hongjoong’. Maybe even listening in since they saw you, knowing the attention you are receiving now is much more than usual.
“Okay what.” Jisung looks at you in disbelief, he eyes scanning yours to look for any sign of a joke, “she’s gone insane holy shit.”
“Jisung I’m not insane shut up. His mother is a real estate agent, and they pulled some strings.”
“Okay you’re telling me that the Ateez magically pulled strings for you.”
“I know it’s hard to believe but they really aren’t as bad as you think, only one of them is… questionable.”
Jisung gaze towards you softens, “I want to believe you, but I’ve seen it first-hand how rude they can be to people,”
“Maybe they are trying to change? Come on Ji, it’s me, you know damn well I’m a good judge of character.”
There is a long pause between the conversation, Jisung letting in the information you have provided him with. Jisung knows you are very good at reading people, due to past events you’ve had many situations where you don’t like a friend of his, even if they are the kindest person in the world to him. They always end up the way that you see them and warn Jisung of. At this point Jisung judges your gut feeling more than his own.
“I trust you. If you say they are nice then I will believe it. Just be careful around them, okay?”
You nod at Jisung, happy he understands. As you sit in quiet reflection, an intense sense of gratitude washes over you, directed towards your cherished best friend. With each passing thought, you are reminded of the countless moments you have shared, and the unwavering support Jisung has always offered you. He has been a pillar of strength and a constant source of comfort in your life, and you are overwhelmed with an immense feeling of thankfulness for the presence of Jisung in your life.
“So, what place did you get?” Jisung asks, curious as to where you ended up staying. You realise you never actually told him the full story. Preparing yourself for the worst, you try to find the right words to use.
“Do you promise to not freak out?” You question, your words again quiet, fearful of someone listening in to the conversation. Jisung raises an eyebrow in your direction, very intrigued as to why you would have to caution him not to freak out.
“After finding out Ateez are actually sweethearts, nothing can freak me out.”
“I’m living with them.” You deadpan, not finding any easy way to put it. Watching as Jisung’s eyes open hugely, his mouth takes in a large breath before opening. Before he can even get any words out, you cover his mouth with your hand, stopping his scream from echoing across, likely, the entire library.
“Please don’t freak out!” You exclaim, attempting to silence him as quickly as possible, hoping not to get kicked out of the library. Slowly removing your hand from his mouth, his shocked expression stays present on his face. If this were a scene from a movie, it would definitely make the two of you laugh.
“I’m not freaking out, you’re freaking out.” His voice is high pitched and out of breath, his ears not believing the absurd words exiting your mouth.
“Look I know, it’s insane, but it was my only option.”
Jisung slightly relaxes, yet his entire body is noticeably still tense and on edge.
“I’m saying this because I love you, but are you fucking stupid?” Rolling your eyes at him, you start to speak yet you get cut off, “you can’t live with eight guys.”
“That’s how it would’ve been if I moved in with you.” You retort.
“Yes, but Minho and I would be there to keep you safe if they tried anything. I don’t know your roommates; how do I trust them not to hurt you?”
“Jisung, I really appreciate that you care, but I trust them. They are too respectful to do anything. Plus, you know if they ever hurt me, I’d WWE the shit out of them.”
Jisung’s laugh is boisterous and echoes in the library, when he gets shushed by the people around him, he quickly puts his finger to his lips and shushes them back, again. Looking back at you, his eyes scan your face for any signs of discomfort. When he sees none, his body relaxes a little.
“You’d call me if anything happened, right?” Jisung questions, he moves his hand to rest on yours on top of the large oak table.
“Of course, Ji. It’s not like anyone else is on my emergency contact list.” You say joking through the bitterness evident on your voice.
“Speaking of, have you heard anything from your dad?” Jisung’s voice is soft, knowing how sensitive the subject can be for you.
“Not really, and I don’t particularly care. I did see on Facebook that he has found a new family to terrorise.”
Jisung’s eye roll is almost audible, he lets out an exasperated groan, “this guy never fails to surprise me with his bullshit.”
“You’d think he’d had enough after destroying one family.”
“Let’s not talk about it, he doesn’t deserve the attention.” A comfortable silence begins, and you feel yourself relax, Jisung continues talking when he realises, he didn’t ask a crucial question. “You do have your own room, right?”
“Yes of course. It’s a super nice room, and the bed is so big and comfortable. Plus, I have my own bathroom, so I don’t need to worry about walking in on them naked.” You reply, thinking about the amazing rest you had the previous night.
“That wouldn’t be too bad.” Jisung confesses, leaning back in his chair.
“What the fuck are you saying?” You hit Jisung’s arm, baffled by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, “weren’t you the one who was literally bashing on them earlier?”
“What? Just because I don’t especially like them, doesn’t mean they aren’t undeniably handsome and sexy as fuck.”
“Jisung shut up, you literally have a boyfriend.”
“I also have two perfectly functioning eyes, and if they are so respectful and kind maybe you should bag one,” Jisung looks over at you, a devious glint in his eyes, “or all.”
“Not a chance, Yunho fucking hates me for some reason.”
Jisung looks at you with a gobsmacked expression, “Yunho? Hate you? How can this guy hate you? You’re the sweetest person in the whole world.”
“I don’t know to be honest, Seonghwa said it was because he’s bad with new people, but I feel like there’s something more to the story.”
“Hang on we will unpack that another time. The Park Seonghwa?” Jisung questions, his eyes even wider than before. You start to wonder how wide his eyes can even go at this point.
“Yes?”
“He’s so fine holy shit. If you don’t bag him, I will.” Jisung relaxes back into his chair again.
“Again, you have a boyfriend.”
“Multiple boyfriends are a thing.” The short male jokes, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m joking. I love Minho to bits, you know that.”
Laughing at Jisung whilst rolling your eyes, he gently pushes your arm, clearly wanting more details.
“So, you’re telling me you have zero feelings for any of them?” Jisung inquires, leaning closer to you, resting his chin on his hand, a questioning look on his features.
“Why are you so interested in my love life Han?”
“I’m your best friend, your love life is very interesting to me.”
Just as you're about to respond, a vibrant flash of pink captures your attention from behind Jisung, causing you to momentarily lose focus. As the source of the pink draws nearer, you realize it's Mingi approaching your table. His piercing gaze sends a chill down your spine, and you can't help but notice the awe-struck gazes of onlookers as he effortlessly navigates past numerous tables. There's an undeniable air of confidence in his stride, similar to that of a model confidently strutting down a runway, leaving you in awe of his presence.
Caught off guard by your sudden distraction, Jisung turns around, following your gaze to the approaching figure. Sensing his confusion, you instinctively reach out, placing a comforting hand on your best friend's shoulder, offering him reassurance amidst the unexpected arrival of Mingi.
“Don’t worry, he’s one of the nicer ones.” You whisper in his ear, Jisung’s tense shoulders relaxing slightly.
“So, you weren’t lying about moving in, were you?” Jisung whispers back, his eyes not leaving Mingi’s tall structure.
The tall male reaches the table you are at, you are glad that his back is faced towards all the people staring, otherwise they would see the smile that spreads across his features.
“Hey,” Mingi smiles at you, not even paying attention to the smaller man sat closer to him.
Jisung stares at Mingi, shocked to even see a smile on Mingi’s face. Eventually, Mingi looks towards Jisung, and his smile fades slightly, but doesn’t disappear. Gently nodding his head in Jisung’s direction, as if he says hello, he turns his head back to you. 
At this small gesture, you are somewhat happy that they are not treating your best friend the cold way you have heard so much about. It is huge for Mingi to be nice to you, so the fact he is also being pleasant to your friend makes you feel extremely touched by the small act.
“You have anatomy soon, right?” Mingi’s deep voice questions you. You and Jisung are both surprised that the man knows what you have next.
“Yeah, I do, how did you know?”
“I’m walking in the same direction; do you want to go together?"  Mingi ignores your question leaving you confused, yet you decide to pay no attention to it.
“Well, I was actually going to walk with Jisung.” You say, slightly upset for denying the pink haired man, seeing that he came all the way to find you so you could walk together.
Jisung’s eyes light up like lightbulbs as a thought enters his head, “no, she wasn’t. I was walking by myself. Goodbye you two. It was nice to meet you Mingi.” Jisung has a huge grin on his face as he grabs his bag off the floor and rushes to leave the library.
Confused out of your mind, you look towards Jisung as he leaves, with your arms signing ‘what?’. The only thing your best friend does is point towards Mingi, who still has his eyes on you, he then mouths the words ‘bag him’ before laughing and almost sprinting out of the large room. Wasn’t he the one who said he didn’t want you to be around them? ‘This guy doesn’t have enough time to be playing match maker,’ you think in your head and let out a groan.
“Is it that bad to walk with me to class?” Mingi questions, his expression sorrowful, worried from the groan that just left your lips.
Immediately, you feel bad and reassure the man in front of you, “no Mingi of course not. I was just weirded out by his actions; I’d love to walk with you.”
Instantly, the frown on his face is replaced by a relieved smile. Feeling happy you’re comfortable to walk with him, Mingi helps you pack your things into your bag and the two of you head out of the library, trying to ignore all the stares you get from the people around you. If this is what it’s like to be friends with Ateez, you might as well get used to it, even if you hate being in the spotlight.
As Mingi bids you farewell and heads off to his next class, a wave of realization washes over you. Despite living with the Ateez members, there is still so much you don't know about them. Determined to resolve this, you make a mental note to engage with them individually, realizing that one-on-one conversations might be more manageable and less overwhelming than having them all in one room together. Living under the same roof provides ample opportunities for deeper connections to form.
As the professor enters the classroom, the chatter subsides, and a hush of anticipation settles over the students. You take a seat in the back, preparing for the extended lesson that lies ahead. Thoughts of the impending dinner with the Ateez members fill your mind, stir up mixed feelings within you. It has been quite some time since you've had dinner with a larger group of people, reminiscing about the warmth and amity that accompanied those moments back in high school. The sight of them gathering around the table, like a chosen family, tugs at your heartstrings. However, the prospect of encountering Yunho once again fills you with concern. The words Seonghwa spoke about Hongjoong's "good way of disciplining" linger in your thoughts, leaving you with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. You contemplate the dynamics at the dinner table, resolving to find a seat away from Yunho to avoid any confrontations or discomfort.
Realizing that you've allowed your mind to wander, you refocus your attention on the lecture, determined not to miss any crucial information. The upcoming dinner remains at the back of your mind, a blend of excitement and apprehension. You reassure yourself that tonight will be an opportunity to observe and evaluate the dynamics of the group, to see how everyone interacts and finding your place. Deep down, you know that time and shared experiences will reveal more about each member's true nature, allowing you to navigate this new chapter with openness and resilience.
With renewed focus, you immerse yourself in the lecture, ready to absorb the knowledge before you and face the dinner with a mixture of curiosity and cautious optimism.
---
Frustration consumes you as you struggle to insert your key into the stubborn lock, the front door refusing to yield to your attempts. With an exasperated sigh, you lean forward, allowing the weight of your frustration to manifest as a slight bang against the door, as your head comes in contact with the white door. The lecture had ended at four, and you had planned a quick shopping trip with Jisung to grab the forgotten essentials like toothpaste and shampoo. However, fate had a different plan in mind as you unexpectedly ran into Felix near the school. Before you knew it, the three of you found yourselves lured into a charming café that Felix had discovered through the enticing realm of TikTok. Sensing the minutes slipping away, you bid your hasty goodbyes when the clock neared seven, anxious not to be tardy for your inaugural dinner together.
Fortunately, someone had left a key for you on the kitchen counter this morning, yet you are starting to think it’s not the key to the house. Maybe it was Yunho playing a trick on you, so you can’t get into the house, and you will leave him alone. Luckily for you, you happen to be pretty stubborn, and you are not going to give in to whatever this ruse is.
Pulling out your phone, you go to your contacts and push in San’s number. You think you should probably get the rest of the boys’ numbers so if you’re stuck outside at least you have more of a chance of getting inside.
The phone rings about three times before the phone picks up, and you’re surprised at how fast San picks up.
“___, hey. What’s up?” San speaks over the phone, his voice is soft, yet for some reason you can hear he has a smile on his face, perhaps he had a good day. Hearing the smile on San’s face brings a smile to your own and you frustration pointed towards the door melts away. You can hear him shuffling around in the background.
“Hey San, are you home at the moment?” You ask, putting you key back into your pocket.
“Yeah, I am. Why?” The curiosity laced in San’s words is unmissable.
“My key isn’t working for some reason, could you please open the door for me?”
“Ohhhh,” San speaks out, realising the problem, “try pulling the door towards you slightly when you turn the key.”
Reaching into your bag once again, you pull out the key and place it back in the lock. This time, gently pulling the door towards you and just like magic the lock turns fully, opening the door.
“Ah thank you San!” You exclaim as you walk inside the house and start to take off your shoes.
“No worries” a voice speaks out from in front of you. Whipping your head up, you see San leaning against the railing of the staircase with a small smile on his face. Why does he look so handsome suddenly?
“How long have you been there?” You ask, wondering if he was just passing by.
“Since the first time you tried to unlock the door.”
The disbelief washes over you as you observe the guy standing there, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he could have easily opened the door for you. 
A wave of guilt surges through you, realizing that you had unfairly blamed Yunho for something that wasn't his fault. It dawns on you that perhaps it's premature to judge him as a horrible person without giving him a chance. The thought lingers in your mind, igniting a flicker of curiosity you decide maybe you should try to get to know him better before passing any final judgments.
“Why didn’t you open the door then?” You groan as you walk past him, into the kitchen where you see Jongho sat at the island, watching a video on his phone. San follows you behind, and watches as you place your bag on the island, catching Jongho’s attention.
“___,” Jongho says with a smile. You return his smile as you take a seat at the island not too far from Jongho.
“If I had opened the door for you then you would never learn how to properly open it.” San explains, his smile is still on his features, yet you can see just a hint of teasing behind it.
You feel your annoyance fade away as you realise, he has a point, still being stubborn though, you blow a raspberry at him, faking annoyance, causing a laugh to erupt from his throat.
Approaching you with a playful demeanour, San affectionately places a hand on top of your head, his touch causing a gentle ruffle of your hair. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he leans down, bringing his eyes to meet yours, and in that intimate proximity, your faces mere inches apart, he confesses, "You're cute."
The sudden admission sends a surge of warmth rushing up your neck, setting your cheeks ablaze. Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, you instinctively break eye contact, leaning back as if to create some distance between you and the rush of emotions that swirl within you. San, now standing tall again, leans against the counter behind you, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the fluttering of your heart.
In an attempt to collect yourself, you shift your gaze towards Jongho, who observes the exchange between you and San with a knowing smile. Catching the small glare Jongho directs towards San before turning his attention to you, his smile resumes, radiating a sense of reassurance and understanding.
“How was your day?” Jongho asks, turning off his phone and placing it face down on the counter.
“It was good, I helped a friend with his project and then had an extended lecture which I am absolutely exhausted from. I also went to a really nice café with Jisung and Felix” You reply, sinking into the chair.
“Who is Felix?” San asks, curious at the unfamiliar name. His voice is a little sharp and you can’t help but wonder why.
“He’s one of Jisung’s friends, we don’t hang out that often, but it was nice to see him today.”
“Are you two close friends?” Jongho is the one who questions this time.
“Not that close, he’s more of an acquaintance to me.” I explain to the two.
They both lets out “ah’s” as they let the information process in their heads.
“You didn’t go to Wooyoung’s café?” San questions, sitting next to you, “he was working today.” San adds.
Feeling bad all of a sudden, you remember the café Wooyoung works at.
“Next time I’ll go there for sure,” you say, hoping they aren’t mad about you not going to their friend’s café.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” Jongho reassures you the second he sees the slightest amount of guilt on your face. Smiling at Jongho, you silently thank him for reassuring your worries.
Then, you suddenly remember the unfinished assignment essay you have yet to submit to the online drop box. Checking the time on your phone, you are relieved to see that you likely have enough time to finish it before dinner.
“Excuse me, I need to finish this essay, I will see you two later.” You explain as you grab your belongings off the island, turning to walk to your room, you take one more look at the men in the kitchen. They are both watching you as you leave, but they have smiles on their faces.
“Good luck,” Jongho says before you close the door to your room.
The next forty minutes are spent in your room, putting the final touches on your assignment, a sense of accomplishment fills the air around you. With a satisfied smile, you close your laptop, knowing that you have poured your efforts and creativity into completing the task at hand. Glancing around, you realise that dinner is still in the process of being prepared, and a surge of anticipation awakens your taste buds. The tempting aromas wafting from the kitchen ignite a hunger within you, making you eagerly await the culinary delights soon to be served. In this brief moment of transition, you revel in the satisfaction of a job well done, ready to savour the flavours that await you at the dinner table.
When Seonghwa knocks on your door to let you know that dinner is almost ready, you send a smile in his direction before getting back to your screen, only having to upload the document. As dinner gets closer, you hear more noises around the house of people entering the abode, your excitement intensifying as you hear Wooyoung’s high pitched laugh from the kitchen making you chuckle under your breath.
Just as you send in your assignment, you hear a soft knock on your door before you hear Mingi’s deep voice speak explaining dinner is ready.
You take a minute to put your laptop into your bag again and clear up your desk quickly before heading out the door and towards the living room. You pass Yunho in the kitchen who is stirring something in a pot. Walking around him quietly, strategically avoiding his gaze, you make it past the kitchen without him seeing you.
As you enter the room, you notice the group gathered around the expansive table, everyone is present except for the notably tall male figure. Finding an empty seat beside Mingi and Seonghwa, you greet everyone with a respectful hello, initiating a brief conversation with Mingi to ask about his day. The conversation flows effortlessly, yet it is cut short as your attention is swiftly diverted by the entrance of Yunho.
He is carrying plates of food. A smile tugs at your lips as the pleasant aroma wafts towards you, instantly recognizing one it as of your favourite meals. Your mouth begins to water in anticipation as you watch Yunho meticulously place the plates in front of each person around the table. However, as he reaches your spot, he strangely passes your plate and instead sets it down in front of Seonghwa, a confusing act that leaves you momentarily taken aback. With a mixture of surprise and confusion, you lock eyes with Yunho, who takes a seat directly across from you, further adding to the mystery of his actions.
“And ___’s plate, Yunho.” Hongjoong questions, his voice is strong and authoritative yet the glare that Yunho gives you shows he ignored Hongjoong completely.
“Sorry, I only made enough for eight.” Yunho glares at you, ignoring the sighs of disappointment and groans from the seven males around him.
“You can have mine,” Seonghwa begins to put his plate in front of you, yet you stop him. Smiling at him gently, you turn back to Yunho in front of you.
“Enjoy your meal, Yunho. I hope you’re happy.” You deadpan, before standing up and pacing out the room, irritated with the bullshit that Yunho is pulling. As you rise from your seat, Wooyoung makes a move to join you, concern written across his face. However, you gently halt his advance, urging him to remain seated and enjoy his meal. Seonghwa's assurance that Hongjoong would handle the situation lingers in your mind, but deep down, you harbour scepticism about Yunho's ability to change so quickly.
Despite feeling deeply disappointed by the turn of events, you gather your inner strength, resolved to confront the situation on your own terms. You remind yourself that you are capable of handling this setback, even though it casts a shadow over your anticipation for the dinner.
“Yunho what the fuck are you trying to do?” Wooyoung demands as he glares at the tall male, his disappoint and anger evident in his words, his stance defensive.
“Just eat. It’s her problem.” Yunho answers, starting to cut his food up.
----
“He didn’t make me food, on purpose, so I just walked out.” You explain the situation to Jisung over the phone.
“Now this is what I expected from an Ateez member to be honest. No hate.” Jisung groans over the phone, annoyance evident on his voice.
The enticing aroma of your favourite meal still wafts through the air, and you find yourself torn between anticipation and frustration. Yunho skilfully prepared the dish you adore, and you aren’t sure is he made the meal because he knows you like it, that would be impossible. Your irritancy intensifies as you realise this was a deliberate attempt to manipulate your emotions.
It becomes painfully clear that Yunho purposefully made the meal with the intent to excite you, using it as a weapon to push you towards the decision of moving out. The realization strikes you like a jagged bolt of lightning, igniting a mixture of anger and hurt. A part of you wants to go back into the dining room and snatch his plate from under his nose, but a stronger part of you resists, refusing to let Yunho's manipulation dictate your actions.
As soon as you entered your room, you found yourself calling your best friend, disappointed but not surprised by the actions of Yunho. Scurrying over to your bed, you rest on the edge still trying to fully process the events. Ranting to Jisung only makes you realise how annoyed you are on the tallest male.
“It’s annoying yes, but it’s manageable. If he starts squaring up on me though I will likely be very scared, bro is big.” You half joke, knowing that he likely won’t dare to start a fight with you due to Hongjoong being present. Tonight, wasn’t nice but it wasn’t like he threatened you or said particularly rude things, if it’s like this you are for sure able to manage at least until you find another place to live. Yes, this place is extremely nice and affordable but it’s not somewhere you see yourself living in for a long time.
“Have you at least eaten anything?” Jisung’s question leaves you shocked. No, you haven’t eaten anything since probably lunch. The second you think about food, your stomach emits a loud growl, leaving you to face palm. Definitely should buy some food, you think to yourself, still aggravated about missing out on the most delicious food you’ve smelt in a while.
Reassuring Jisung, then saying goodbye after about an hour of talking, you hang up the call and immediately open your fast-food app. Scanning through each restaurant you end up even more irritated seeing that there are no deals and most of the food will take at least an hour to arrive. You’re not sure you should be even buying food, seeing how posh the area is it would be a crime to even think about ordering cheap fast food. Flipping from the food application, you go to your bank account checking to see if you even have enough money to be buying a meal. Seeing the amount makes you audibly sigh, your ideas of getting food leaving your mind quicker than you can shut off your phone. Laying back on your bed, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, attempting to let the frustration slowly vacate your body.
‘Whatever.’ You think to yourself, you’re not eating so you might as well get ready for bed.
Walking into the bathroom and settling into your night time routine, a sense of annoyance creeping over you when you notice that your favourite moisturizer is running dangerously low. Frustration bubbles within you as you realise that you’ll soon need to replace it. You contemplate the possibility of squeezing out every last drop, hoping to prolong its usage just a little while longer. Sighing to yourself, you realise that you have to again spend money on something you would rather not. Wishing you could just ignore your need for moisturiser, you groan knowing you can’t due to having extremely dry skin in the winter and you’d prefer to not look like your skin was falling off. The moisturiser you use isn’t even that expensive, it’s just a supermarket own brand one that barely keeps your skin looking presentable, yet it’s all you can afford, you have other things you have to save your money for.
Making your way wearily back to your bed, where your phone rests on the charger, you snatch it up and settle on the edge of the mattress. With a swift search on YouTube, you strive to find the perfect video to unwind with before drifting off to sleep. Yet, as your finger taps on a selection, the video barely has a chance to begin before a soft knock reverberates from your door. 
Your head whips towards the source of the sound, a realization dawning upon you that someone seeks entry. Surprise tinged with guilt washes over you as you reflect on having walked out on dinner, aware of its importance to the other person. Amidst the rapid whirl of thoughts, you question why you are shouldering the blame when it was Jeong Yunho who acted insensitively. 
A flicker of panic flits through your mind, silently hoping that it's not Yunho standing on the other side of the door. Should you pretend to be asleep? No, that won't work, as they would have heard you using the bathroom. Lost in a flurry of racing thoughts, you momentarily forget that someone patiently awaits your response, mere inches away on the other side of the wall.
“Um ___? Can I come in quickly?” A deep sweet voice sounds from behind the wooden door and you immediately recognise it as Yeosang. Letting out a soft sigh of relief you answer back, letting Yeosang know it’s okay for him to open the entrance to your room.
From across the room, your gaze fixates on the door, anticipation coursing through your veins. It swings open, revealing the familiar figure of Yeosang standing hesitantly in the doorway, his presence both captivating and disarming. As your eyes slowly travel from the bottom of his body to his face, you can't help but take note of the subtle changes in his appearance. His usual jeans and hoodie are replaced by a black tank top that showcases his toned arms and snug grey sweatpants that accentuate his casual yet charming vibe. The sight of his bare arms, muscles defined and veins subtly visible, evokes a mix of admiration and intrigue within you. You find yourself captivated by the way his physique displays strength and confidence.
Caught in the act of observing him, Yeosang registers you checking him out, a blend of pride and embarrassment sweeping across his features. His cheeks dusted with a rosy hue, hints at the flattery he feels under your gaze. A contented, almost bashful smile graces his lips, revealing his genuine delight at being the centre of your attention. His usually carefully styled hair appears tousled, and you realise he must have been readying for bed.
However, your attention is abruptly drawn to the paper bag clutched in his hand, distracting your eyes away from his physique and back to his face. The red blush on his cheeks remains, giving him an endearing charm, while his eyes sparkle with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The sight of his dishevelled hair and his relaxed attire only amplifies his charm, adding a touch of effortless attractiveness to his overall appearance.
“I bought you some food. I wasn’t too sure what you’d like so I got a mixture of some things.” Yeosang explains, holding up the paper bag in his hand.
This act instantly makes your heart speed up and your chest to feel warm despite the freeing temperature of your room. This kind gesture warms your heart, and you can’t help but feel incredibly grateful to the man standing in your doorway.
Yeosang's gaze sweeps over your figure, his eyes instinctively drawn to the form-fitting pyjamas that hug your curves. A surge of satisfaction courses through him as he realizes the envy that would consume the other boys if they knew the position he is in at this very moment. Grateful for the stroke of fortune that has brought him into this position, he momentarily loses himself in a spiral of thoughts, silently expressing gratitude to whichever higher power may have orchestrated this unexpected encounter. However, his attention is abruptly redirected as your soft voice breaks through the reverie, grounding him back to the present moment.
“Yeosang, I,” you start to speak yet you can’t find the words to express your gratitude to him, you instead invite him to enter your room fully. “Please come in.” You request, smiling widely at the giddy man who is now in your bedroom.
It’s the first time Yeosang has been in your bedroom since you decorated it, finding some small posters and fairy lights to hang around your room, and some plants to place around making it feel more like home. He looks throughout the space, admiring what you’ve done to it.
“I still have some more things I need to buy before it becomes home.” You admit to the blonde male as he looks around. When he hears your statement, he looks towards you and smiles warmly.
“Here you go,” he says, handing you the bag, and stepping backwards, wanting to not bother you further and let you eat in peace. Looking down into the bag, you see a few different packages, wrapped in aluminium foil and the smell reaches your nostrils, filling them up with the most delicious savoury scent, causing your mouth to water and your stomach reminds you how hungry you actually were.
When you look back up, you see Yeosang back by the doorway, heavily debating whether he should leave or stay to make sure you finish the food, nervously shifting from one foot to the other, unsure of what to say. You smile at his actions, for a buff guy who is supposedly a ‘bad boy’, he sure is cute.
“Yeosang,” you speak out, catching his attention, he meets your eyes, and you swear you could have fainted at that moment. His gaze holds a gentle softness, yet beneath the surface, you sense a wealth of unspoken feelings concealed within the intensity of his eye contact. Words are on the tip of your tongue as you contemplate the question that weighs heavily on your mind, unsure of how to speak your thoughts.
Yeosang, sensing your hesitation and the hint of worry in your stance, takes a step closer, concern etched on his features. Something in the way you stand, lost in your thoughts while gazing at him, tells him that something might be wrong. “Are you okay?” He asks.
Before you can find the right words, however, you instinctively close the distance between you, your heart racing with anticipation. The bag of food you were holding slips from your hands, forgotten on the floor as you gently wrap your arms around him, seeking comfort in a tender embrace.
Yeosang tenses up, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. Your abrupt departure only further fuels his uncertainty, leaving you standing a meter away, immediately apologizing for potentially crossing boundaries. “I’m sorry, I’m just extremely grateful for the food I’m so sorry for pushing your boundaries,”
But before you can utter another word, this time, Yeosang closes the distance, his hands enveloping you, drawing you closer to his chest. Your cheek presses against the warmth of his shirt, the sensation of his toned physique beneath it briefly registering in your mind. Overwhelmed by the strength and security of his hold, you find yourself tensing up this time, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected gesture. Yet, understanding his earlier hesitation from your own action, you reciprocate by wrapping your arms around his waist, surrendering to the comfort of the embrace.
Time seems to stretch as you bask in the comfort of his arms, feeling a sense of familiarity and longing that has been absent for far too long. Your light-headedness gives way to a contented sigh, revelling in the serenity given by his hug. Expecting the moment to end, you begin to pull away, only to be pulled back into his chest, your cheek colliding with his in a gentle 'oof' of surprise.
Moments blur into eternity as you remain locked in each other's arms, a silent connection between your two souls. Yeosang withdraws slightly, but his hold remains, your arms still embracing his waist, his still encircling your shoulders.
Your gazes meet once again, mere inches apart, illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Even in the dim light, you can discern the flush that colours his cheeks, an unreadable expression adorning his features. It's an unfamiliar emotion that leaps around in his eyes, neither embarrassment nor discomfort, but something entirely new, leaving you dizzy with curiosity.
For what feels like an eternity, the two of you engage in a silent exchange, locked in a gaze that renders you weak at the knees. And just when you think your heart couldn't flutter any faster, Yeosang breaks the silence with a confession that catches you off guard. His eyes remain fixed on yours, unwavering and sincere as he admits, "Your eyes are beautiful."
“Uh thank you.” You reply, cheeks growing even hotter than you thought they could go. You just know if Jisung would see you right now he would scream his lungs out.
Moving away from Yeosang, he momentarily wonders if he screwed up by saying those words, yet when he sees the sincere smile on your face, his worries melt away and he gets lost in your expression.
“Would you eat with me?” You question, hoping he will keep you company, the question of ‘did we know each other before college?’ slipping your mind completely.
---
Seated cross-legged on your bed, you relish the delicious food that Yeosang thoughtfully brought for you. Across from you, he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked comfortably while the other dangles freely. His eyes never waver from you, captivated by the way you devour the meal with avid hunger, and a sense of relief washes over him. It's evident that you must have been starving, and he silently curses Yunho for denying you a proper meal earlier during the disastrous dinner. In this intimate moment, he seethes with anger at the thought of you being deprived of a simple joy you were so excited about, confirming his resolve to make up for it.
As you converse one-on-one with Yeosang, the opportunity to have a genuine heart-to-heart arises, a chance to connect without the distractions of others. The conversation flows effortlessly as you delve into the events of your day, sharing thoughts, dreams, and anything that comes to mind. It's in these moments that you notice a subtle transformation in Yeosang's demeanour. His eyes shimmer with a radiant passion whenever he talks about dance, and his voice releases a fresh energy when he discusses subjects close to his heart.
Discovering his love for reading piques your interest, knowing your mutual fondness for books. This realization sparks a lively conversation about favourite authors and cherished books. The genuine curiosity and engagement exchanged between the two of you ignites a flutter within your chest, relishing the ease with which you connect and share your passions with Yeosang.
Yeosang remains by your side until the very last piece of food disappears, his unwavering presence a testament to his attentiveness and care. Not a single crumb is left, and as you sink back into the comforting embrace of your pillows, the weight of the day begins to settle upon you. The heaviness of your eyelids is a gentle reminder that rest is calling, but before sleep claims you, you can't help but feel grateful for the precious moment spent with Yeosang.
“This is the book I was explaining earlier!” Yeosang exclaims, turning his phone to you to show the book he couldn’t remember the name of. However, when he looks up to you, he finds you snuggled into the pillow, your mouth slightly parted, eyes closed. Surprised, his eyes widen as he peers over your sleeping form. Yeosang’s heart swells, revelling in the fact that you felt comfortable enough to allow yourself to fall asleep.
Tucking you into your blanket, careful not to wake you up, he studies you once more, taking in all of your features. He notes each freckle and mole on your face, the way your eyelashes rest against the swell of your cheeks, your hair falling messily over the sheets.
Yeosang gracefully exits your room, a gentle smile adorning his face and a faint blush colouring his cheeks. The evening spent together was a significant milestone in your friendship, and he couldn't help but feel content that he had won the rock-paper-scissors with Wooyoung to order food for you. However, what catches him off guard is the sight of Yunho emerging from his own room simultaneously, intending to make a trip to the kitchen for a glass of water. In that moment, disappointment flickers across Yunho's eyes as he witnesses Yeosang leaving your room.
“Are you seriously cosying up to her?” Yunho’s voice is once again full of venom, not even realising the tone he’s using to talk to his close friend.
“I’m not having this conversation with you right now Yunho.” Exhausted by the taller male's behaviour, Yeosang attempts to walk past him, seeking to put some distance between them. However, his friend intercepts him, halting his steps and preventing him from moving forward.
“I’m being serious, how can you just let her in after everything we have been through?”
“You can’t hold this grudge up forever; she lives with us now.”
“You were the one who said, ‘we will never let outsiders in again’ what the fuck happened to that?”
“It’s ___ dude, she was never an outsider, and you know that damn well.”
“Are you seriously this desperate to get your dick wet that you’ve forgotten everything we have been through?”
“That’s not what this is about, you know that.” Yeosang pushes past Yunho and walks towards the kitchen, taking a seat down on the barstool. Yunho follows him, grabbing a glass from the designated cupboard.
“She may have saved Hwa, Yeosang, but the second she is given the opportunity to leave us she will, just like Ryu did.”
“I don’t understand why you are acting like this after everything she did to help us get back on our feet. She is nothing like her, you would know that if you gave yourself the chance to get to know ___.”
“I don’t understand why you are acting like this. This is exactly what happened with Ryu, she got close to us, just to take away everything.”
“Aren’t you tired of acting like a dickhead to everyone all the time?”
“We do this, so we don’t go through that ever again.” Yunho’s voice raises slightly, his voice starting to echo in the kitchen. “We have acted like this for years because that is the damn narrative that that bitch gave us.”
“Are you seriously telling me after all these years you aren’t tired of being this way just to avoid getting your heart broken? It’s a human thing, Yunho, we deserve love too.”
“You aren’t the one who had your entire heart ripped out of your chest.” Yunho’s voice is louder this time causing some restless heads in the house to shake awake.
“You know damn well my heart was crushed too.” This time Yeosang yells back at him, taking the tall man by surprise. Yeosang barely ever raises his voice, let alone it being directed toward someone, Yunho steps back a little. “I know what you had with her, you thought was special, but you can’t keep dwelling on it. ­­­Back when this all began, ___ was the only person willing to be kind. I know for a fact you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel even the smallest amount of love for her.” Yeosang’s voice is exasperated, begging towards his friend to stop the act he has up.
“Then what if I do love her?” Yunho’s voice cracks and Yeosang can see the tears starting to dwell in his eyes, causing him to soften slightly. Yunho continues, “there’s nothing stopping her from doing the same thing as Ryu the second Seonghwa’s dickhead of a father offers her the money to ruin us. She will leave us and our hearts, my heart will be broken again.” The tears in Yunho’s eyes fall onto the surface of the island, yet he doesn’t know whether they are from pure frustration or because the truth is starting to hit him like bricks.
“When we were KQ Fellaz, she knew we were trouble, she knew the rumours about us, she knew the danger she was putting herself in every time she stood up for us. When were all broken from the trauma and heart break she never once pressured us to talk about it, she never yelled at us when we yelled at her, she was never scared of us. Don’t tell me you don’t remember every time single fucking time she cleaned the wounds on your hands after getting in countless of unnecessary fights?” Yeosang runs his hands through his hair, frustrated by the sheer ignorance of his friend.
Yunho goes to speak but he gets cut off by Yeosang, who is half fuming half desperate. “She was kind to us without ever expecting anything in return, so stop letting your stupid prejudice against the human race blind you completely from what’s in front of you. If she was like Ryu, she would have let Seonghwa jump off that ledge.”
Yunho feels his heart drop as he remembers the sight of his older friend in such a fragile state, his only option to be to end it, him not being able to help the pain he was enduring.
“Please Yunho,” Yeosang’s voice is soft this time, nothing louder than a whisper, “just give her a chance.”
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reds-skull · 6 months
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Fic recs - oneshots (part 3)
ALRIGHT I'm hoping this is the last oneshot post, since there are a lot of other fics I wanna recommend that don't fall in this category.
This post is like 5x longer than the other ones just because I wanted to finish all of my current oneshot recs and otherwise it will take like 3 more posts. So beware there are a lot more under the cut.
If you're new here, these are all sfw oneshots:
i've dug two graves for us, my dear. by eddie_dxaz - Johnny gets buried alive.
Scotch-Soaked Lips by FreeToWriteForMe - Ghost watches Soap while the team is in a bar.
I owe the hat man money and I don't want to see him by Louffox - Ghost gets drugged and hallucinates while Soap tries to keep both of them alive.
Painting the snow red by Faolamb - Ghost is a wraith and Soap werewolf. Soap loses control and Ghost calls him back.
Mild as May by lambstew4you - Ghost and Soap are on a mission, and they have a talk by the campfire.
Hell or High Water by lambstew4you - Soap gets kidnapped and put in a sensory deprivation tank. He is rescued, but the damage is already done.
Daylight Through The Fog by WeirdTin - Ghost is afraid of letting people in. Soap just wants to love every scar.
i never said i'd be alright (just thought i could hold myself together) by TheLastTheosaurus - Ghost gets injured on a mission with Soap. Without exfil in sight, he hides it. Despite his efforts Soap finds out.
Breathe in, Hold it by Hedgehog_kun - Simon and Johnny are in a relationship. Life is good, for once. But one night Soap comes home angry and drunk, and Ghost can't help but freeze.
How it started, how it's going by Nuria123 - The fic where Ghost thinks he and Soap are already dating (5+1).
heat death by eggtimelads - Soap and Ghost spend an afternoon fending off this relentless heat [relatable tbh].
note to self: drink in moderation by eggtimelads - Ghost gets drunk, does a little pining out loud, and gets his reputation ruined while also getting a boyfriend.
Absolutely by ElizaStyx - 5 times Soap confesses to Ghost in a language he thought Ghost didn't understand, and one time he knows full well Ghost does.
the shroud is made of linen by stars_boy - In which Ghost is interrupted while watching the sunrise.
Lets Go Stargazing For Real Next Time by Trouble_13 - Ghost thought they were getting somewhere, but it feels like they have to restart all over again.
Lonely Hearts Club by Wheezing_Joe - Soap and Rudy accidentally start fake dating. Ghost and Alejandro aren't too pleased with it [this is ghostsoap and alerudy, so it's twice as good]
Night Has Always Pushed Up Day by Sillililli - Ghost gets injured and is stuck in a hospital, when they bring in a blind Soap. They're forced to share a room.
dying all the way back to the root by Magpie (QuickSilverFox3) - Soap is separated from Ghost, but Ghost can still hear his voice. He just needs to find him before someone else does.
i fear you will know me but most of all i fear i will never know you by rocketnintendo - Soap hides the extent of his injuries. Ghost finds out and is gentle.
My Heart Leapt From Me by Macabre_Flower - A pipe bursts above Soap's bed in the middle of the night. Ghost offers to help.
Palimpsest by Blackbird_flyaway - Ghost loses all memory from the last 3 years, including all memory of Soap.
The way his feet strike the earth by Blackbird_flyaway - Soap puts on a blindfold and gets kissed as part of a drinking game only it becomes a lot more than that.
i need you to hurt me back instead by TheLastTheosaurus - 5 times Ghost needed a hug, and the one time his got one.
Figure Study by 002405 - Ghost asks Soap to draw him like one of his French girls. Things devolve from there.
love me despite by TheLastTheosaurus - Ghost needs rest. Soap helps him get it.
no better version i could pretend to be tonight by TheLastTheosaurus - Soap can't sleep. he goes to Ghost.
Wash your mouth out with soap by Red_Clegane [the one and only] - Soap is reminded how he got his call sign and Ghost helps him put the pieces back together.
sunday morning (rain is falling) by wellyesbutactuallyno - Soap wants to learn more about Ghost. Ghost lets him.
The Haircut by thevalesofanduin - Soap's hair is too long. Ghost helps him cut it.
On the nights you feel outnumbered (I'll be out there, somewhere) by Brigadier - Ghost feels more irritable than usual and gets involved in a bar fight.
I want to crack open your ribs and crawl in the space left behind (Je veux me lover au creux de ton creur et ne jamais repartir) by flaminpumpkin - Simon ends up having to drag his drunk sergeant back to base and finds himself in a sticky situation because he's too smitten with the man.
Bloody Delirium by GnawingAtMyEyes - Soap gets gravely injured and suffers from blood loss delirium.
Tell Me a Secret by resonatingkitty - Ghost asked Soap to tell him a secret one evening at a bar and what Soap tells him is not what he expected to hear.
Never Hide This (From Me Again) by resonatingkitty - during a mission, Soap gets nicked and doesn't report it to Ghost. Ghost doesn't take it well.
Bruised Peach by Phiunzirus - After their latest mission, Soap's right arm looks like a bruised peach. What happens when Ghost accidentally grabs it a bit too hard?
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again (it's been a long, long time) by Angelicasdean - Soap's been home for weeks now, but he's still missing the last piece of the puzzle. Thankfully, it's scheduled to return today.
Forbidden by eddie_dxaz - Ghost comes to terms with his feelings for Soap and tries to fight them. Unsuccessfully.
The Maskmaker by ElizaStyx - Soap finds Ghost working on a new mask.
Cat Dad by ElizaStyx - One day a little kitten appears at the 141 HQ and Soap falls in love. Too bad the kitty only likes Ghost.
Blind date with a book by Nuria123 - Ghost is a famous anonymous writer and Soap loves his books. They fall in love.
Recovery by Nuria123 - Soap and Ghost meet after being medically discharged at a rehab facility. Soap volunteers and Ghost is newly admitted. [this is one of the few fics to make me actually sob hard it's so extremely good]
can't keep johnny down by Wheezing_Joe - Soap loses commes on a mission and presumed dead. After finding his way back to base he's surprised by how much he's been missed.
red woven confessions by wayfaredsoldier - Soap got he and Ghost wishing bracelets in an attempt to grow closer to him and got far more than he expected.
made a bed with apathy (years worth of dust and neglect) by aetherealmoss - Soap gets triggered by someone who looks too much like his painful past, and Ghost is there to help him through it [TW SA, rape and child abuse on this one]
Safe With Me by Wixiany - Soap who is in an abusive relationship befriends Ghost when he moved into the neighborhood. His boyfriend accuses them of cheating and Ghost is blocked for several days until Soap shows up in the middle of the night.
snuffed by crown_twist - Johnny really, really doesn't like cigarettes. Ghost didn't know.
Choice by achievement_hunteresss - Shepherd captures the 141. He offers them a deal. He will let the other person go unharmed, if you shoot yourself in front of them.
tags by achievement_hunteresss - Soap asks for help with detangling his dogtags. Ghost accidentally unburies Simon.
Precipice by Islenthatur - Soap dies and has to choose (dw it's surprisingly not mcd)
Coven (Scheherazade) by basgijr - Ghost can't sway an overwhelming feeling that something isn't right. Soap is a werewolf that stinks of wet dog and also love (Ghost is a vampire). [this one I found from a Tumblr post that I lost]
sullen by rottin - Sparring goes a little wrong.
Lessen the Load by Hammy1o1 - Price had to talk Ghost down from suicide a few times. Things change when Soap joins the taskforce. [obviously TW for suicide]
Aaaand that's all of them! And my god there's a lot. Next post I'm considering giving a list of writers I like (aka have a lot of fics that I like so I save their name instead of individual fics), which will be one post since there's not too many. After that we can finally get to the longer fics!
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Damian has been in the family for a while he has made his peace with Drake understood that no matter what he has a place but he still can't understand the dynamics. Maybe it isn't exactly the most intelligent choice to track down Todd and ask but he figured it was the best option.
Sitting on Todd's couch in the middle of crime alley eating a dish he can only vaguely remember his mother making he isn't exactly regretting it yet.
"So let me get this straight bat brat, you don't get how people work so you came to me?" Todd's confusion isn't exactly surprising but it is unhelpful to his plight.
"No I understand people, well when I have to I do not understand the bats." He at the moment can't bring himself to actually act with the dignity his mother expects of him another way Gotham had corrupted him.
-
Jason can't say he expected to feed and be interrogated by the demon brat he just wanted to relax but this isn't exactly a surprise now that the kid has chilled out he was almost waiting for it.
"You want me to give you a cheat sheet to how our family actually works becusse you are now realizing that Talia didn't understand shit and it fucked you?"
He can't keep the pure joy out of his voice knowing that he is actually gonna get to knock the kid down a peg after today.
"Not in those words Todd but I understand you have a perspective that I may lack."
God demon looks pissed below the joy he understand that this is actually important and he needs to explain this well knowing this could make or break the already pretty fucked up kid.
"Alright listen and don't fucking interrupt me save your questions and bitchness for the end do I make myself clear."
Holding the kids eyes he sees the kid is actually paying attention as he nods maybe Dickie really did find out the secrets housebreaking who knows.
"Ok let's start with me and I'm gonna be sappy for ten seconds and if you ever repeat this I will shoot you and put you in another duffle bag ok, ok good. I'm your brother I love you would kill for you that whole bullshit. I'm also Dick's, and Tim's brother, on days I don't want to kill the old man I'm his son."
God he's gonna need a smoke after this bullshit fuck he sees the kid is nodding good he hasn't lost him.
"Now Dick is my older brother he's not yours you can lie to yourself all you fucking want but he's your dad teaching you how to be a real boy and all that shit."
He sees an embarrassed flush and the start of protests but he's not dealing with it that bullshit the kid can work on in his own time.
" You wanted it your gonna fucking hear it, now Tim-Tam the sleep deprived idiot is a bit more complicated."
He takes a breath trying to put into words what he wants to say.
"Why is Drake complicated wouldn't he be somewhat easy" the confusion isn't a good sign maybe it is better the kid came so he can restrain him if he has too.
"Tim is the best of us alright, he's someone I want to protect I love him truly even if he's an annoying little shit. Now listen Tim is a lot like you when it comes to Dick crossing the line between Dad and Brother. Tim will always side with Dick that's his Robin and Tim is Dick's. You can't be a jealous little shit here because I don't even fully understand them."
"Bruce isn't Tim"s dad at least on his end Dick is, Bruce loves Tim but no one can ever replace Dickie just like you which is honestly half the reason you hated the kid."
-
Damian is now regretting this conversation he thought this would be simple once again he has somewhat lost his mind since coming to Gotham.
Yet he knows Todd's right that the way Grayson looks at Drake is the same look he gets and the same part of him who loves his animals and loves Richard feels guilty because he knew. He just didn't want to admit it.
"Why I don't understand why is Timothy so different to any of us even you, both of us tried to kill him yet he seems to matter so much"
frustration is leaking through but this is what he wanted to know why Drake is so important even to him why, what is so special about him.
Todd is hesitating but slowly steeling himself Damian cant help but to copy him knowing whatever comes out isn't gonna be easy it's gonna hurt but he asked didn't he.
"Tim was the first, the one to really unlock Dick not being well a dick he knows parts of all of us, secretswhatever, the shit that matters. Bruce, Dick, me even you, we don't run shit ok Wayne Entetprises, plans Tim does. Dick and Tim are the glue holding us together without them we would be fucked you know that."
"That's what's so special about him everything we do Tim has a part of he's genuinely irreplaceable and it bothers the fuck out of both of us."
Damian can't breathe he just runs words he never wanted admitted are stabbing through his mind he doesn't stop until somehow he ends up in his bed at the manor he just hides pushing it down the real reason he tried to kill his brother the fact that he almost broke the family he just hides he shouldn't have asked.
Maybe Richard was right being naive was a gift and now he can't go back.
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cuckoo-on-a-string · 2 years
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Younger Gods: III
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Younger Gods Master List Dream x fem!reader
Chapter 2
Dangerous magic and old friends lay the foundation of a fate foretold, and Morpheus spends too much time in the library.
Warnings: language, briefly referenced suicidal ideation, self-neglect/harm, extreme sleep deprivation, Dream is still his own damn warning
A/N: First - THANK YOU ALL. Seriously. You're amazing, I love you, and I'm working on catching up on comments. Now for the bad news. Ya'll broke chapter 2. Like, literally. I went to edit the tags list and Tumblr said nope. Imagine a small, family car with dozens of people stacked inside and hanging off the roof. It just won't go. The chapter also didn't show up in the story tags, at least whenever I checked. So...
*The taglist is officially discontinued*
I am making that up with something special, though, so make sure to read the A/N at the end!
Chapter 3: Darker Fates
“Gracious, darling, you look dreadful.”
She collapsed into the rickety café chair. Across the laminate table sat her oldest friend. Her one friend. And she immediately wondered how much to tell him. Only two days stood between her and her involuntary trip down memory lane, between her and the Sandman. She’d seen dark birds from the corner of her eye once or twice, but they always turned out to be crows and magpies. That didn’t mean Matthew wasn’t following her, of course.
She hadn’t escaped the consequences of her actions yet, and she didn’t want to drag one of the precious few people she cared about into the muck.
“What happened to your courtly manners?”
“What happened to your face?” He shuddered delicately, burying the real concern she caught in his sharp grey eyes with dramatics. Signaling the waitress behind the counter, he added, “We’ll need another pot of tea, please.”
The woman blushed and hurried off to fill the order. Doubtless, he’d been flirting while he waited. Damn silver fox. Although he was over one thousand years old, he wore it well. His greying curls and tidy beard looked playful rather than unkempt.
“Do you have what I need?”
He nodded. “Tea’s on it’s way.”
“Not the damn tea, Taliesin.”
The twice-born bard sucked on his teeth, glancing from the front windows to the back counter. Only spilled coffee stains and a sticky smear of jam occupied the other tables. He acted like this kind of deal might draw attention, and he had good reason to think twice about handling magical items in public, but no one cared what two people meeting up at two in the afternoon in a cheap café shared over a cup of tea.
He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and retrieved a small, stoppered bottle. The liquid inside moved like tar, oozing up the side of the glass as Taliesin angled it in the light. Even caution couldn’t banish his instincts as a showman.
“Understand.” He looked her in the eye, his scintillating smile packed away for a stone glower. “This is a cruelty, not a blessing. Now, I won’t ask why you need it. I wouldn’t insult you like that. But it’s my responsibility to tell you this is a bad idea.”
She could think of worse.
Before she could explain herself, the waitress pranced over with the tea. She set the pot between them and provided a fresh cup and saucer. Taliesin grinned, winked, and sent her on her way again with a word of thanks.
“One day your philandering will get you into trouble, old man.”
He sniffed and poured the tea, adding the slightest splash of milk, just the way she liked it. “I never begin something from which I cannot safely extricate myself. And, besides, a little teasing will make her day.”
He slid the cup across the table, and she wrapped her hands around the porcelain to drink in the heat through her chilly palms. She couldn’t seem to stay warm these past few weeks. Anyway, tea wasn’t what she’d come to drink.
“Will it keep me awake forever?”
“Nothing is forever. Nothing you can taste, touch, or smell.” He sounded both chiding and nostalgic. “But this will last seven years and seven days.”
“Good enough. What do you want in exchange?”
Tutting, he tucked the potion back in his jacket, and she sagged in her seat. “Tea first. I have grand and patronizing cautions to give.”
She lifted the cup, maintaining eye contact as she took the biggest, loudest slurp she could manage. It tasted nice, and its warmth felt even better in her stomach and throat than it had on her skin. Why did the bastard have to be right about everything?
The twinkle in his eye suggested he knew what station the train of her thoughts had left, and he slurped from his own cup in merry retaliation.
“First,” he licked a drip from his mustache, “and foremost: this is vile magic. It doesn’t gift wakefulness – it steals rest. The fae designed it with little prisoners like you in mind, to be taken in spaces where time melts and enchanted food will cheat the body’s need for sleep. Since – I dare presume – you do not have those safeguards, this could kill you.”
He left the words to sink in, trying to scare her off the purchase. When she reached out to see if he knew someone willing to make this potion, he’d leapt at the opportunity himself. It was his way of protecting her, and it gave him a chance to interfere with what he clearly saw as self-harm.
Since she wasn’t sure she could survive another nightmare like the one Dream hauled her through, she’d take her chances with death by her own hand.
“Consider me warned, but it doesn’t change anything.”
Taliesin bowed his head over his teacup, groaning. Any fantasies that he could talk her off her current path finally cracked. “You really are stubborn, rain cloud.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Oh, no. That you found all your own.” His smile grew back, wan but alive. His hand settled on the table, palm up, and she abandoned her tea to settle her hand over his.
“Just promise,” he said with a gentle squeeze, “that if you feel anything going off, if you even suspect something’s wrong, you’ll call your old friend Taliesin. Okay?”
She squeezed back, trying to smile for him, but she was too tired to make the expression stick. “Okay.”
Nodding to himself, he echoed the agreement again, “Okay,” and reached into his pocket. He slipped the bottle between their joined hands, and she pulled away to put it in her sweater.
“What do you want in return?”
“Well!” He smacked the table with both hands, grinning in a way that promised trouble. “I thought long and hard about it, but rather than jewels, or secrets, or power, I think what I would most like from a lovely young storm god is…” He paused, glancing meaningfully out the window at the dreary, grey-yellow afternoon. “A walk in the rain with my favorite little cloud.”
He sounded so damn happy about it he infected her with the feeling. It was nice to be needed. Wanted. Even if she’d just lied to his face.
A friendly rain gathered and fell as Taliesin got up to pay the bill. He left the waitress looking pleased with herself – and probably a generous tip. Then he came to meet his rain cloud at the door. An umbrella appeared from some hidden pocket and he grinned, holding out his elbow for her to link arms with him.
“I always come prepared,” he bragged as they stepped out into the shower.
“You say that like you don’t live in Wales.”
“I never said you were the only thing I came prepared for.”
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Given the mother’s name to track, Lucienne did eventually find the record of the little storm god’s dreams, but they were useless to Morpheus. He studied the handful of pages warped by the curse she wore around her neck with mounting frustration. Apart from reports of which nightmares feasted on her pain during her brief, forced rests, they gave him nothing.
Her mother’s dreams proved more illuminating. They, at least, gave him a line of inquiry to follow.
The woman dreamed about her child from the moment it was born, from the minute the father tore her away to trade. The mother wandered endless rooms, following a crying child’s voice while she slept. She dreamed of little coffins and wailing infants she couldn’t find in nurseries dripping with gore.
Arcane shapes and dead languages shadowed her sleeping hours as she learned magic. In the waking world, she became a capable witch. There, as in the Dreaming, every hope and wish bent to finding her baby.
She never gave up her pursuit.
But in the end, it was the daughter who found the mother.
Her favorite dream grew out of a memory. A rainy afternoon, a crack of lightning, and a knock on the door. A painfully thin teenager stood on the steps, dripping in a thunderstorm, looking up with wondering eyes. If Morpheus had any doubts as to the girl’s identity, the scars around her neck put them to rest. She still had blood in her hair, rusty smudges caught in the grooves of old scars, fresh hurts and healed wounds calling to the mother’s instinct to protect and care for.
Although she had plenty of nightmares about losing her daughter again – finding her bed empty, losing her in a crowd – the nature of her somnolescent musings shifted. Softened.
And a familiar face came to call. The Welsh bard, Taliesin, whom the demi-god child kept safe at the cost of her hands, brought little gifts to the old woman and her young daughter. His winks brought warm flushes to the mother’s dreams, and she rested easier at night knowing that her little girl would not be entirely alone in the end.
She had sacrificed ten years of her life to a fairy bargain that won her nothing but a hand-sized portrait of her baby girl during her long search. By the time the child returned, her mother had grown old. They only had twelve years together before the lost child lost her mother.
The woman died. The record ended. But Dream knew where to look next.
Abandoning his throne for the library, he wrestled against a growing sense that he was running out of time. Time for what? Time for whom?
He was still Dream of the Endless. He still had a realm and billions of dreamers to manage. The puzzle of the storm god who brought home his raven lingered like a toothache, but he could not abandon his responsibilities. Determined as he may be to remove the golden collar from both the Dreaming and the dreamer, the curse had lingered for decades without disturbing anything significant.
It had been months since he picked through her dreaming mind to discover more about her – more about the curse. Only now, as the things settled back into a comfortable kind of order, could he indulge his curiosity, his side-quest as Death mockingly called his interests. And he was more than interested. The longer the questions lingered, the more of his attention they consumed.
Perhaps it was the crossroads. The Fates said he’d already pushed the storm god towards a darker fate, but they never said it was too late to change that course, and the three often left the most important truths unsaid.
If only he knew what to look for. Perhaps that was why he spent so much time and energy researching the collar. It gave him a target. Without it, he felt like a dreamer caught in a pitch-black nightmare, groping blindly for anything with which to reclaim the light.
But he did not have to search alone.
“Lucienne.”
His librarian looked up from a stack of new, peering over the rim of her spectacles. “Did the mother’s dreams help you find what you needed, my lord?”
“In part. Though I need another volume.” He handed over the two records, the mother’s dreams and the storm god’s. Lucienne set down her tower of work and went to shelve the two immediately. They slotted beside each other, the mother’s name in curling script, the daughter’s blank.
“You know,” Lucienne said, “I only found the nameless one’s record because the mother’s kept reshelving itself with the daughter’s book. I fixed it twice before I realized. It’s rather sweet.” She sighed. “If vexing. What volume do you require, my lord?”
Morpheus spared the books another glance, wondering how much of the mother’s arcane studies had influenced her history of dreams. But she’d given him all she could, and now he must turn to the living for answers. “The bard Taliesin’s records, and anything else we have on his history.”
“That is more a section than a collection, lord.”
“Yes.” It wasn’t his first time encountering the bard. “I may need to speak with him, but he will be loathe to leave a story once he is introduced. I’d prefer to find answers in the records. Will you help me?”
“Of course. Give me a moment.” Lucienne paused. “Give me several moments, please, my lord.”
On Lucienne’s first trip, she retrieved the official record of Taliesin’s dreams. He’d lived a long life, and he dreamed vibrantly. The tome was several feet thick, and the library echoed when the librarian set it on the table.
“Thank you, Lucienne.”
“I’ll fetch the rest, sir.”
Taliesin’s early works, recorded on parchment and scrolls, sat between books published under a dozen nom de plumes in later centuries. When the librarian returned with a cart stacked high with history books referencing and theorizing over the man and his myth, Morpheus excused her.
“These should suffice, Lucienne. I will let you know if I do not find my answers here.”
“Of course, sir.” She brushed dust from her immaculate coat, checking the sleeves, before folding her hands neatly behind her back. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Already buried in the works of Taliesin’s unconscious mind, he shook his head. “Not at this time.”
She bowed and left. The library would be chaos without her. He could remember when it was. It was no mean feat, organizing a universe of stories. It made her wise in ways he had only just begun to appreciate.
The man whose dreams he searched enjoyed other kinds of wisdom. He’d gained a third of the world’s knowledge by accident, but he’d spent the better part of his life learning the other two thirds by choice. Advisor to kings, story-weaver, and a natural mage, he had the wisdom and craft to recognize some of the magic wrought into the storm god’s collar. He’d tried to take it off when they first met, and he studied for a means to free her after his escape.
Morpheus wanted to know what the bard found.
However, though his dreams in the past few decades often welcomed a shade of the storm god to play out adventures and tragedies as part of a colorful cast, Taliesin’s attention did not linger on the curse. It was little more than a bright shadow that pricked his conscience.
He sat back in the chair, glowering at the books that had failed him.
It seemed every whisper of progress led to more questions in this riddle, and not for the first time, he wished the library could offer more insight to the happenings of the waking world. He should not need to ask for help so often.
At least, unlike the storm god, the bard embraced his dreams. Like all great storytellers, he had explored his fantasies and fears ravenously. When he next slept, Morpheus would pry loose some answers. It shouldn’t be difficult. The bard dearly loved the sound of his own voice.
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Taliesin presided over a court of housecats.
He was aware enough to know the royal courtiers of Edward II did not, originally, have literal claws, but it made perfect sense in the moment. Edward and Gaveston were in the corner, playfully wrestling – maybe – while Isabella stalked closer with murder in her vertical pupils.
“This is not the way,” he huffed, plucking a kitten from the mob joining ranks behind Isabella, a gorgeous tortoise-shell with no interest in his opinion. The kitten sprang spread-eagle back to the floor.
Chaos. Absolute chaos.
His favorite idiot, his little rain cloud, curled under the steps to the dais. She’d found herself, once again, where she did not belong, and if her eyes didn’t reflect the torches set around the room, he never would’ve known she was there. It was the wrong court altogether, but she had a talent for trouble and a gift for surprises.
Dropping to his knees, he reached under the wooden platform to coax her out. She’d become a fetching little half munchkin, half Norwegian forest cat caught in the lanky middle ground between kitten and grown cat. A menace, to be sure, but too cute to ignore.
“Come out and play with your friends,” he said as she wriggled even farther out of reach. “It isn’t good to hide all the time. You need to do some seeking, too, lovee.”
But she was very determined and his arms just weren’t long enough, so he manifested a trail of nibbles to catch her attention. He could be patient. He could be tricksy. Good friends, he firmly believed, should be both, because sometimes people were just too stupid or too stubborn to accept the help they obviously needed.
He sat up to kneel below the empty thrones and clapped his hands on his thighs.
Well. He’d done what he could for now. Across the room, poor Gaveston was learning the price of being a king’s favorite. The yowls and cries almost distracted him to the point he didn’t see the massive black Maine Coon stalk into the throne room. The cat’s eyes glowed, both literally and metaphorically. In his kneeling position, Taliesin actually had to look up to see those eyes, and he gulped, wondering if he was about to be eaten.
“I have questions for you, bard.” The cat spoke with authority in a voice like honeyed night.
Taliesin recognized it, though it hadn’t come from a cat before, and he dismissed all thought of stupid whot, why, what, how demands.
It may be his imagination at work, but it was not his realm.
“Dream King.” He bowed. Then he remembered he was dreaming and squinted at the cacophonous mess of the long-dead king’s feline transformation. “Ah. This makes so much more sense.”
The cats blinked out of existence, or at least out of his dream, and he sat back on his heels. The stone chamber grew quiet. A plaintive meow from beside the stops, however, proved not all the cats had gone. The junior cat approached and let him sweep her into his arms, even purring when he scratched under her chin.
Still aware of the Endless – no longer in cat-form  – Taliesin allowed himself a moment to enjoy this imagined pleasure. The little storm god made an adorable ball of fur. “You’d never make this so easy in the waking world, would you?”
She sized his finger with claws and teeth to prove she wasn’t easy in any world.
“There is unwelcome magic in the Dreaming.” The Nightmare King didn’t wait for Taliesin’s focus, confident as any monarch that his words would be heard, that the listener would take note and action. “You have studied it.”
Taliesin nodded, taking his word for it and stroking his friend the kitten as he picked through his long memory for anything of interest to the King of Dreams. “I have studied many shapes of magic, lord.”
“This one is close to you.”
Some darker note in the Dream King’s voice snagged Taliesin’s ear, and he looked away from the cat to study his face. Lips bent in a frown, brows pinched, the king had his starry eyes pinned to the creature in the bard’s arms. Taliesin looked back down to see a phantom of the collar growing around the kitten’s neck. She writhed against it, mewling in pain, staring up at him like he could do anything to help her.
He’d tried, and he’d tried again. He still hadn’t given up entirely.
Couldn’t the poor thing’s shade at least find relief in his dream?
She scratched him in her fit, and he bundled her closer, pinning her fast and safe as he’d failed to do when she was small and alone and willing to suffer in his stead. Even if he couldn’t free her, he’d never abandon her.
The truth of the matter struck him. He felt the cat shudder against his heart when she’d been so calm and accepting a moment ago, and he knew.
“So, you’ve met my favorite idiot.”
“Yes.”
The word betrayed nothing, not how they met, not how he felt. But he wanted to banish the collar once and for all, and Taliesin could get on board with that.
“It’s fairy-make,” he said. “Broken in the waking world, but still manifests in the Dreaming.”
“I know. What I do not know is why. What terms closed the circle around her neck? It appeared to suppress her godly half in life.”
Taliesin tried to cradle the cat even closer without suffocating her. “If you do not mind my asking, lord, how do you know even that much?”
“I saw it,” the king said, casually, like it wasn’t one of the worst things the bard had ever heard, “in her dreams, in her recollection of the past.”
Closing his eyes, the bard took a deep, deep breath in through his nose. He had to hold it for a minute, because it desperately wanted to leave his throat with a string of curses Dream of the Endless would not enjoy. When he was sure he could exhale without heaping abuse on the dolt’s head, he let the breath go. He did it all one more time, and then he said, “I think I understand why she wanted to stay awake.”
Eyes still shut, he murmured to himself, “Why didn’t she tell me? Self-destructive little –”
When he finally looked, the world had changed. Gone was the castle, the throne, and the sweet little cat from his arms. He’d imagined a cheap bedsit in Cardiff, the kind of place the little storm god may stay on the run – and she was definitely on the run, from nightmares if nothing else.
The young woman lay sprawled in a puddle of moonlight, half dead, and fading fast. Her skin clung to her bones, eyes sunken, old wounds open and bleeding from malnutrition and scurvy.
The empty potion bottle sat on the windowsill.
Dream of the Endless studied the scene with clear interest, and Taliesin beat down his protective urges in the name of pragmatism. If she was running from Lord Morpheus, she wouldn’t turn to Taliesin for help when the potion dragged her to the brink of death. It wouldn’t be a life lesson she could grow through. It would be a life ended.
“She came to me a few months ago,” he said, hoping the Endless would care enough about the woman shackled to the curse to consider her in his grand schemes. “She wanted a potion to stave off sleep. I told her it was dangerous, and I thought she’d come to me for help soon, that I could teach her something, but –”
The body on the floor laid so still. How many months had it been? How close was this nightmare to reality?
“I said her dreams would be kinder when she next slept,” the king murmured.
He didn’t have to say he didn’t understand.
Taliesin crossed his arms and cleared his throat. Someone, at least, would learn something this night. “Well, she’s a storm, isn’t she? She isn’t capable of moderation. When she’s happy, she’s ecstatic. When she’s angry she’s electric. When she’s afraid she is very, very afraid. And she’s terrified of you.”
Dream looked over his shoulder at the bard, still looming beside the dying phantom.
“I neither wish nor intend her harm.”
“You don’t have to intend harm to hurt her.”
The Endless fully turned to him, and the bard spoke with all the confidence of being truly heard. Just as the king did upon entering this dream. “You, I presume, dug very deep in a very dark place. That hurt her. Frightened her. If you push her far enough she’ll chew off her own leg to get away, or didn’t you see the part where she nearly decapitated herself to escape the damn collar?”
Silence filled the room. An ugly, cheap place to die. Taliesin wondered how long it would take to find her if she really had gone to ground. He couldn’t trust the King of Dreams to care about anything beyond the Dreaming’s borders, and he wouldn’t trust her health with the one who pushed her to ruin in.
He had spells to find her, but he wasn’t sure he could hold her if she went into a panic.
In the stillness, they could hear her death rattle.
“What will your potion do to her?”
His potion. Yes, he supposed it was his fault. The girl really was like a stray cat, hiding under porches to die quietly rather than let someone help. He should’ve known.
“It keeps her awake. Eventually, she’ll feel too ill to eat. She may hallucinate. Her heart will fall out of rhythm and she’ll waste away until her body doesn’t remember how to function.” He smacked his head back into the wall, wanting punishment, hoping to jog some inspired idea free. “I warned her.”
Of all the Endless, and he’d met quite a few, Dream was the most inscrutable. Cold and detached, but prone to dangerous spikes of interest that spiraled into nearly obsessive passion. His vengeance came swiftly and his affection grew slow. But Dream was, usually, just. He didn’t enjoy undeserved suffering, and Taliesin had to hope that after walking through the little storm god’s dreams, he’d understand she’d earned none of her pain.
It wasn’t too late. He’d lost track of time, but a tableau this desperate wouldn’t come to pass for at least a year.
“If you are of a mind to assist, Dream Lord…” He pushed off the wall, suddenly and entirely desperate to move. “I have an idea.”
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Her fear grew bitter as her strength waned. She could taste it when she struggled to eat, and when she gave up meals, it poisoned the water she drank. Terror tasted like blood from bitten lips and dust on her dry tongue. Her hands shook, and her throat burned from stomach acid, but it wasn’t bad enough to call on Taliesin again. She knew what he’d say.
Whatever happened, she would not fall asleep.
Besides, she wasn’t dying yet. She was only sick. If the Dream Lord pulled through her bloody history again, she wouldn’t survive. If she had a choice, she’d pick a death in the waking world, free of the collar and safe from the Dream Lord who dragged her through horrors so callously.
She wasn’t convinced he believed in her innocence, either. If he knew he’d threatened someone trying to rescue his damn raven, surely he would’ve apologized.
Better to stay awake and ignore the cramps in her belly.
The rain soothed her. Fitful storms plagued the town she’d chosen as a hiding place, and the old folks grumbled to each other at the grocery store about the weather. Maybe they’d gotten used to it in the past few months. She hadn’t been out in a while.
She didn’t sleep, but she still rested. Her eyelids didn’t grow heavy when she sat by the window and watched the drops racing down the pane. She remained awake, aware, and as close to peace as her racing thoughts allowed.
The window became her favorite pastime, and she spent days studying the changing clouds as angry squalls rolled up the coast, how the grey sky trapped the light during gentler showers.
And she grew weaker. Quietly flirting with the line between sick and deathly ill.
She saw impossible things beyond the glass. It took her a few days to realize they were hallucinations, not a fae spell or some petty apocalypse.
When his reflection appeared behind her in the window, she thought she was seeing things again. And then he spoke.
“You are killing yourself.”
She jerked around, stumbling on numb feet to face the monster. The Nightmare King. Her hand wandered her neck, looking for the collar to prove this was a dream, but she found her scarf instead.
“You are in the waking world,” he confirmed. “You hid yourself well.”
He took a step towards her, and she lunged back. The same game in the wrong realm.
“You still think I’m some kind of threat?”
Another step towards her, another step back – she nearly tripped on the leg of a chair, but she refused to look away for an instant, even to save the scraps of her dignity.
“No.”
He moved the way he spoke, aware of every nuance, every shift, slowly drawing closer. Sure and smooth as a stormfront.
What did he want? She abandoned her home, gave up the precious little sleep she could tolerate, and he still pressed her. He didn’t look angry and cold, like he did on the beach. Something sharp glittered in his eyes, though, a keen edge ready to cut her.
They passed through the living room, through the kitchen, and she only had a few more steps before this slow chase met an abrupt end.
“I’m running out of ground to give, Dream Lord.”
“Good.”
A final step, and her heel met the wall. He closed the distance, keeping the same predator’s pace as she pressed herself flat against the peeling wallpaper.
“Do you want me to fight?” Her growing storm raged. Lightning sheered over the sleepy town, turning the evening bright as noon. Thunder rattled the windows, but the Dream Lord didn’t so much as flinch. “Do you want an excuse to hurt me?”
He stood inches away, eating up her personal space until she felt his shadow had already swallowed her.
“No.”
“Then what do you want?” A whisper with the desperation of a scream.
His razor eyes cut deep, and she quaked in place, afraid to move but wishing she could shrink, become so small he wouldn’t notice her.
“To turn you from a darker fate.”
He raised a hand, and she cowered from the expected blow. When none fell, she peeped at him sidelong. His palm hovered between them, like he was holding up a gift.
“Sleep.”
Stooping ever so slightly, he blew over his hand, sending a gust of sand into her face. She bucked against him, flinging one arm up to cover her face, the other to shove at his chest. But it was no good. By the time he curled his fingers back, she could feel her grip on the world slipping away.
“Poor little storm god.”
Her knees buckled, and she slid down the wall, losing herself by inches to the inescapable lure of the Dreaming and its master.
She slept.
Chapter 4 A/N: I've never done prompt requests, but I've never had 500 FOLLOWERS EITHER (holy shit). I'm celebrating, and you're invited. The rules are a little convoluted, I won't be able to do ALL the things, but you'll all get a say in what makes the cut by voting. To join the fun and check out the rules, go here. Even if you don't join in, there will be one-shots aplenty for you to browse.
I'll be working on a chapter each for my other two active fics while I wait for replies, so you may not see another Younger Gods chapter til next week. For those clamoring for more interaction between the reader and Morpheus, it will be well worth the wait.
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lvckyyz · 2 months
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thanatos cabin headcanons please 🙏🙏🙏 (I'm a child of thanatos myself, I'd really appreciate it <3 if your not feeling too burnt out, obviously)
thanatos’ cabin headcanon
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cabin’s song: demons - imagine dragons
thanatos is the god of dead, literally being the personification of peaceful death
his kids are usually very pretty and mysterious, which is what makes people so afraid of them.
since death usually follows the demigods, the other campers used to believe that thanatos’ kids were that pretty to seduce them to go to the underworld if they get too close to them
but hypnos and nemesis children weren’t scared of them since they’re all cousins🤷‍♀️
they’re usually very calm and quiet and find it difficult to open up even to their closest friends
but they’re really good at understanding people’s feelings, and know what to do if someone needs them
thanatos’ children had to wait for a long time until other cabins started trusting them, they had to prove that they were good people and that they just wanted to help others
so they became friends with cabin 1, 4, 6, 13, 20, besides cabin 15 and 16 who were already their friends
they’re really good listeners
usually talented poets and writers, and most of them are good musicians as well
their cabin is not crowded since thanatos is a very busy god so his kids are really close to each other
they don’t have a way to talk directly to their father so they’d ask for cabin 13 or 20’s help to do so
really good at archery
i think they’d feel cold most of the time, even in the summer
at some point they became really popular in chb, but they didn’t like the attention so started pranking some campers with their powers so people would leave them alone
they usually have a strong connection to animals and it’s common for chiron to find stray animals inside their cabin, like cats, birds, dogs and even a pegasus once
they value their sleeping schedule a lot so don’t bother them if they’re asleep
thanatos’s kids are really disciplined and responsible
usually ask for their friends safety on their prayers for thanatos
probably addicted to true crime podcasts and at some point they wanted to be detectives or something close to that
they have a lot of questions about the world but no one has answered them yet to “protect” them
even though they’re usually calm, they will challenge you if they feel like it. really, i can imagine one of them teasing hades by saying thanatos would be a better king for the underworld than him😶
and somehow they think the consequences will never come back to them🤷‍♀️
thanatos’ kids like taking care of the others but like being taken care of too, since their father had to ignore their existence for some time, they are kind of love deprived
they’re one of the best friends you’ll ever have
⤷ author’s note:
heyy, thank you for your request! i hope you liked it!!
i didn’t notice it before but i got 185 followers now and i just want to say thank you for all of you who read my hcs, love youu💞🫶
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dani-ya-dig · 3 months
Text
Ok now that I’m fully awake. It’s time try and organize my thoughts on that audio oh my god.
Also trigger warning for mentions of suicide under the cut
That’s actually the first thing I wanna talk about, and is the only gripe I have with the entire video. Why the fuck wasn’t mentions of suicide tagged in the description??
Like I understand the concept wasn’t dwelled on and Sam didn’t outright say “I’m gonna fucking kill myself” but he PRETTY EXPLICITLY talked about how he planned to commit suicide even if he didn’t say those words. idk “chosen morality” doesn’t seem like the right warning for that? I’m not gonna complain abt it like too much, I just was a little confused on why it wasn’t tagged.
But anyways onto my jumbled up thoughts about the actual audio! Because as a member of the Sam Collins fandom, I have thoughttsssssss!!
THIS AUDIO MADE ME SOB! I couldn’t sleep because of how sad I was over it. Sam and Darlin need to be happy just for fucking ONCE, god give them a BREAKKKKKK.
The idea of them just silently holding each other on their roof with the night sky above them, a few tears probably falling from both of them. IM DUHXSJDIJFDJFHFHJ
AND MOTHERFUCKER THE VIDEO ENDING ON “Brown. My eyes were brown” I FELL TO THE FLOOR SHUT THE FUCK UP!
On a happier note about that, I KNEW Sam’s eyes were brown. I feel like almost everyone did tbh. I’ll tell you what gave it away though, the gentle way he says “please” to Darlin in some of his audios. Automatically gave it away that he would have had the biggest brown puppy dog eyes you have ever seen in your life. I’m physically sick over it, it’s not even funny.
Now back to the thing I desperately don’t wanna think about. Sam telling Darlin that he wasn’t planning on living forever.
That’s where the dam broke for me, I started bawling. It totally makes sense, I get it and I can’t say that it’s not a choice that makes sense given that Sam never wanted to be a vampire in the first place.
Do y’all think that he was planning to watch the sunrise on his roof? Because that was my first thought and it hurt real bad. Sam finally getting to feel the sunlight after so many years of having been deprived of it, only to be ash when the sun was fully in the sky.
Also I know damn well he probably would have done it after Darlin died and that’s what hurts so bad. If Darlin chose to be a vampire I think he would happily spend however long their eternity would be by their side, but once they were gone he probably wouldn’t feel a reason to stay. Especially because if Darlin turned into a vampire the two of them probably would have completely pulled away from all mortals before that would happen.
On that note, I don’t think Darlin is gonna want to be turned. I never really thought they would, unless they were under very specific circumstances. Sam telling them to spend time in their wolf form and with their pack before deciding solidified that for me 100%. I don’t think they would be able to lose their wolf which we know is a pretty big part of shifters, talking from Milo’s audio where he breaks down worried he was never going to be able to shift again. I don’t think they would be okay with the idea of watching their friends, and their family all start to wither away and eventually die while they remain.
Now, do I think Darlin is going to want to be turned? No. Do I think the dynamic of Darlin choosing to remain mortal opens a lot of really good angst possibilities? Yes. Do I fully trust Erik to not turn them anyways? Not really no.
If I had to put a bet in for how it would happen if Darlin got turned, it would be by Quinn. Quinn would find out or catch wind of the fact that they chose not to be turned (if he didn’t already know they would chose that) and turn them anyways just to hurt them.
(I think Alexis turning them is an interesting idea to think about, from any angle but I highly doubt that’s gonna happen lmao)
All in all I genuinely think that was the only audio that has affected me that much (aside from maybe listening to the inversion for the first time??)
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vexingwoman · 11 days
Note
Uh not actually here to hate but to say thanks???? Ive been thinking alot on my self expression and trying to figure out how to word it, and seeing some of your comments with other people really helped to put in perspective what I was trying to come to terms with. Ive always struggled with my gender but acknowledge fully that I'm biologically female. (Stay with me here till the end please i know lol) I genuinely dont care what pronouns I'm called either and none have ever felt right if I'm honest and nothing I've read or tried has been adding up for me over the years to help me feel any better.
Kinda realizing over the past year or so that I just have this deep ingrained idea from being surrounded constantly my whole life in a woman hating environment that I just have a *really* heavily masked hatred for what general society treats women as and was trying to remove myself from it hoping itd somehow save me from the terrible shit we all go through daily. And it just made me feel even more alienated doing that to myself. Its been a long time of coming around to this and I know how it sounds but I dont wanna consider any of my time wasted. I dont remember what it was but something you said to someone in a long ass comment fight clicked for me and rn I'm sleep deprived and wont even remember what it was in the morning either but I feel like some kind of weight has been eased off me. Im doing my best to unlearn the sexist misogynistic bs ive had shoved down my throat my whole life that made me think being a woman was something to be shameful of and better off without.
Its been hard trying to look into this radfem community and find someone who didn't immediately just insult and exclude ppl that werent already on the ball agreeing. Basically I appreciate your ranting with strangers. Amd indulging some of their curiousity as clearly as you can+defining everything you say constantly so I dont get lost in a whirlwind of hard to understand metaphors. Idk you get it. Something clicked and i dont feel ashamed for the time gone bc I know it was heavily influenced by the oppression of all things normal-human-womanly around me. I hate that we're all so tied into these stereotypes. Its painfully hard to unlearn. Thanks for the help. Have a fat block of text as thanks cause I'm not sure how to sound as genuine as I feel rn. Have a nice day and an even better tomorrow. Im gonna get some sleep now💀(stayed up WAY too late painting lol) bye!
This is so wonderful to hear. I know how dreadful it is doing serious introspection and making yourself aware of how deeply and unconsciously your internalized sexism runs. I’ve been there, and I know it’s even more difficult to deconstruct the subtle sexist attitudes which have been ingrained into to us since birth. Often it seems as hopeless as chasing smoke, because some of our internalized sexism is so deep that it’s invisible, and worse, inarticulable.
Some women will never think on these subjects beyond their surface level—will never dissect their preferences, will never concede that their choices are influenced by sex-based socialization, will never seriously reflect on why they are so desperate to identify out of womanhood. And in a strange way, I sympathize with these women, because I understand that it’s easier to shut your eyes and convince yourself that you were born in the wrong body than it is to open your eyes and acknowledge how much sexism has seeped into and corrupted our own minds.
Basically, I’m proud of you for putting yourself through the pain of deconstructing your own internalized sexism. You are better for even attempting it, and I hope you continue to do so.
P.S. I know exactly which long-ass comment fight you’re referring to, because I only put myself through that once. At least someone benefited from the literal month I spent arguing with that stranger. They blocked me, so unfortunately I can’t even go back and analyze the conversation if I ever wanted to. I would love to know what you took away from it, if you ever do remember.
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gilly-moon · 3 months
Note
Also blackice 👁️👁️
when I started shipping it if I did:
Basically from the moment I first saw the movie in theaters lol.
my thoughts:
So??? Many?????? But hey I already wrote most of them out in a long-ass fanfic aka my love letter to this ship
What makes me happy about them:
That they see bits of themselves in each other. That they understand - really understand - what it means to be lonely and how deeply that can harm someone. That they're both angry in their own right about the situation they've been living in for centuries. That they've experienced love and have loved in return, only to have it cruelly torn away. That they find solace in each other over these things, and bring their own strengths to the table as they connect and heal together.
What makes me sad about them:
The idea that they're in a cycle that may never be broken. Fear and the Shadows will always have their claws in Pitch's back, and even if he tries to break free, he will always be haunted by them. Jack may have the Guardians and believers, but what if those believers fade before they can spread his story? Will he be all alone again, invisible and unable to connect to the children he holds so dear? Will the cycle repeat again?
things done in fanfic that annoys me:
Generally just...mischaracterization I think? Sometimes people write Pitch to be way too nice and thoughtful, or Jack to be way too reserved/timid. To each their own, but...them aren't my boys.
things I look for in fanfic:
Possessive Pitch™. It's a requirement. But other than that, I'm generally in one of two moods: bad ending type fics where Pitch is still a Bad Guy and ropes Jack into a relationship willingly or unwillingly, OR mutual recovery fics where they're both trying to heal from the deep wounds isolation has inflicted on them. Bonus points for mention of Kozmotis/Emily.
Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:
Hm...I don't think I have any other romantic ships for Pitch. A friendship with Sandy or (a begrudging one) with North would be nice. As for Jack, even though I don't ship it myself and it's technically a crossover, the HiJack artists have successfully invaded my brain with cute af art of those two. Jack & Katherine is also pretty cute.
My happily ever after for them:
'Happily ever after' doesn't quite feel like their brand. They're immortal, after all, so I think they'd define things in simpler terms. But I like to think the point at which they've 'made it' or whatever, is when they're able to rely on each other without question - to be each other's constant in an ever-changing world.
who is the big spoon/little spoon:
Pitch is big spoon, but Jack probably sleeps in ridiculous positions or ends up laying on top of Pitch instead, so spooning is a rare occurrence.
what is their favorite non-sexual activity:
Genuinely these two are so conversation- and touch-deprived that just spending time together is enough. Whether is chatting on the go while Jack spreads his icy magic across the globe, or just hanging out in Pitch's cave, Jack really likes to talk, and Pitch really likes to listen. I also love in fics when they play board games together ♡
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bobamilkk · 11 months
Text
TF2 HEADCANONS PART TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO
I told myself I’d get these up one of these days👍 I finished this list at 4 am last night so none of this makes any sense and every word is more chaotic than the ones before it and no I’m not sorry y’all sighed up for this bs
Scout
-Can understand a good chunk of French but can’t speak more than a few simple words if that, has no clue how he understands it (Spy spoke a good amount of French around him as a baby or something idk)
-Can be just has hard to find as Spy-once you loose sight of him he’s impossible to find if he’s actually trying to stay hidden-Like father like son
-Can and will steal your food-this includes Heavy and Medic-He has no fear whatsoever and has been sent to respawn god knows how many fucking times because of this-And yet he still does it
-Loves scifi movies and comics and if you watch a movie with him half of it is him pointing out random trivia facts because he’s incapable of shutting the fuck up (this is also what happens when you watch a movie with me irl. My grandparents are sick and tired of it. Yes this is even more self projection what of it?)
-has mastered the younger sibling talent of fucking climbing people if it means getting something that’s held over his head. He also bites
Soldier
-it’s impossible to tell if he’s insulting you or complimenting you 90% of the time
-Has stabbed Scout’s hand to the table to prevent him from stealing food before and no one stopped him
-The team has movie nights once a week and Soldier always puts on the same inaccurate WW2 documentary he made himself when it’s his turn to pick-he used to put on 10 hours of the American National Anthem but someone (read: The rest of the team working together) lost (read: Violently destroyed) the tape after the third time
-I said he was from Missouri once in a rp cuz my rp friend and I are both from different parts of Missouri so that’s my hc now
Pyro
-I always hc him as Irish for some reason idk why
-Can casually pick up every merc except for Heavy-He struggles a bit with Medic because that man is pure muscle but they can indeed pick him up
-May or may not be a cannibal-it’s a little uncertain but either way they’re banned from the kitchen and cooking duty
-I’m a sucker for the hc that he does not like water whatsoever-Getting this man a bath is like trying to bathe a cat except somehow even more deadly
Demo
-This may be the impulsive sleep deprivation but my brain randomly went “What If he can see general ghosts because of his possessed eye socket, not just Eyelander or the scream fortress ghosts” so sometimes people walk in on him casually having a conversation with the air. Considering he’s made out with his own organs in his head, this is one of the less weird things they’ve walked in on him doing
-Surprisingly he’s the best with kids out of all 9 mercs, Heavy is a good runner up though and Spy’s not far behind but will never admit it
Heavy
-Accent gets thicker when he’s talking to people he cares about
-Was the one who suggested the movie nights in the first place
-Actually cleans up in the base unlike literally everyone else
Engie
-People don’t realize how unhinged this man is ok??? Anyways he’s a caffeine addict and has developed the habit of pulling way too many all nighters if it means getting work done (like me. It’s 4 am as I work on this list. Help)
-What’s a southern farm boy without a few dozen concerning stories about pushing cousins out of second story barn windows or near drowning fishing story? My cousins lived on a farm when we were kids and they scared the shit out of me I swear there was a new broken bone every summer
-probably once had a sleep deprived mental breakdown on his workshop floor because the sweet tea one of the mercs made him wasn’t sweet enough idk man I’m sleep deprived rn and could really use a southern style sweet tea
Medic
-Mann vs Machine hc that his hometown would rather deal with the robots than having Medic anywhere near them ever again. They want him GONE
-Sleeps like a fucking corpse-You can’t even tell he’s breathing unless you look closely. He even crosses his arms like a corpse
-Will take you graverobbing for a romantic date-gotta get experiment canvases somehow he’s running out of room on the other mercs without them just dropping dead from it all
Sniper
-The opposite of a morning person, but his internal clock won’t let him sleep in ever. The suns up? He’s up! Someone help him
-Has befriended a wild owl and feeds it at night-The offense trio very violently helped him name it (They fist fought eachother over who’s name was better while Sniper spaced out thinking about random gator facts)
Spy
-An adrenaline junkie but will never ever admit it
-Spy can mimic voices to a near perfect even without his disguise kit-he however rarely uses this and instead simply mocks everyone instead because he finds it funny (“This is Scout! Rainbows make me cry!”)
-Wears a corset because I said so-It always matches perfectly with his outfit and underwear too-He feels SO bonita
Bonus since it’s Pride Month
-Scout is gay and so many levels deep in the closet it’s embarrassing-He’s also trans because I said so
-Soldier is trans, bi, and poly :) his list of wives consists of anyone and everyone /j
-Spy is bi and a cis man who wears dresses regularly he’s gnc af and I love that for him he’s my wife now
-Medic is gay and still legally married to his wife they’re mlm wlm solidarity married for tax benefits /j
-Pyro is trans, non-binary, and pan and uses he/they pronouns because I said so
-None of these men are straight ok
-Medic did both Scout and Soldier’s top surgery but both of them instead have overly extravagant extremely gorey stories on how they got their scars
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itsaspectrumcomic · 5 months
Note
hii :) first of all, your comics are so relatable and wonderfully drawn, you’re such a good artist!
but i guess i’m just wondering if you could help try and answer some questions i have, it’s alright if not though of course :]
i’m like 99% sure i have autism, i relate a crap ton to people with autism and just experiences commonly had by autistic people
but what i’m wondering about is 1, i don’t think i’ve shown or felt any signs of it up until i turned around 12 maybe, and i’m thirteen now
the only thing i can think of is most definitely having special interests, like i cannot be interested in something casually and it’s been that way my whole life
but now, the past year, i’ve been having so many signs of it, i’ve had meltdowns and go nonverbal when i’m stressed and have been stimming and stuff (i’m tired so my descriptions aren’t going to be good sorry lmao)
and the second thing is that i can understand sarcasm and things pretty perfectly, of course there’s the occasional misunderstanding but i don’t think i’ve ever really taken things too literally, if anything the opposite because i’m very sarcastic and figurative myself i feel
of course it’s a spectrum but pretty much everything i’ve heard about autism is that almost everyone has some level of difficulty with taking things literally and sarcasm
idk man i got <5 hours of sleep last night
sincerely,
sleep deprived confused child
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Hi sleep deprived confused child! 😁 Don't worry I understand!
I also didn't think I showed autistic traits as a child at first, until I started talking to my mum about how I used to act, reading old reports, and viewing my memories through an autistic lens. A lot of the stuff I thought was 'normal' turned out not to be. For example, I thought everyone found crowds terrifying and music at events painfully loud, and I didn't realise tapping my fingers constantly could be a stim, and although I thought I was sarcastic (turns out saying things plainly/bluntly can come across as sarcasm) I didn't always get it when other people were.
Also, your traits can get more obvious as you get older and have to deal with more complicated problems. At age 12 there's the weird transition from child to teenager, maybe changing schools, or more complicated homework, or more responsibilities at home, different types of relationships etc, which can all add stress and force you to find ways to cope you might not have needed before.
THAT SAID, there's a lot of overlap between autistic traits and other things like ADHD (eg you might have hyperfixations rather than special interests - they're similar but change more often), or PTSD. While autism and ADHD are generally only diagnosed if you've had the traits from a very young age, things like PTSD and other mental health issues can show up later. And they can all be comorbid to make things extra complicated.
Obviously I am not in a position to diagnose you with any of these! I am definitely not qualified so please talk to a professional about any concerns or suspicions.
Sidenote: have you tried taking the RAADS-R or AQ50 tests? They're generally considered reliable and are often part of assessments, so hopefully they can help answer your questions!
I hope you have a good day and continue to be less sleep deprived :)
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misc-obeyme · 11 months
Note
hi!! i was wondering if you could write soemthing for the brothers and an MC with tics :D
Hi there, anon!
Okay, so I had to do some research. I have known someone with tics, but I don't experience them myself, so I wanted to make sure I did okay. I tried to keep it general since there are so many different kinds of tics that people deal with. I also touched on the social aspect of it since people are jerks and I imagine the brothers would not tolerate such things.
Anyway, I hope it's okay, I did my best! Thank you for the request!
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brothers react to GN!MC who has tics
Warnings: discussion of tic disorders, accidental self harm
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Lucifer
The first time it happens, he's going to react with confusion and concern. This varies depending on how severe your tics are. What is happening? Are you okay? Is this a human thing? Explain to him what's going on.
Will ask you a lot of follow up questions because his instinct is to find a solution. Tell him how you cope with it and how you want him to react in the future. He's willing to do whatever you ask of him, MC.
He's going to notice if something makes it worse, like sleep deprivation or stress. Will confront you about it if he thinks there's something you need. Also notices if you try to suppress them. Doesn't like it when you do this. Reassures you that you're safe with him. He's not going to judge you for these involuntary movements.
If you have self harming tics, he's going to do all he can to help you with whatever you need to lessen their impact. Lucifer wants you to be as comfortable as possible while in the Devildom and he's good at finding solutions to things. Let him help you.
Mammon
Somehow understands right away what's going on without an explanation. When it first happens, he gets real serious because now he's worried about you. Tell him what's going on even if it seems like he already gets it.
He's with you enough that he learns what tends to make it worse and when you might be getting one. Gets good at being able to tell when you're experiencing a premonitory urge.
Unlike Lucifer, his instinct is to act like it's no big deal when it happens. Might ask you if you're okay in general, but doesn't make a big fuss. Just reassure him a little because he cares about you.
Gets protective. Will yell at anyone who even dares to look at you funny. Mammon comforts you if you're upset about someone saying something mean or making fun of you. Don't listen to 'em, MC. He's here for ya.
Leviathan
Worried at first. Doesn't know what it is, doesn't understand what's happening. He's going to panic more than Lucifer, let's be real. He's going to think he did something to upset you. If it's a mild tic, he might not notice at first. He'll pick up on it at some point, though.
Once it's all been explained to him, he's ready to help. Just tell him what you need, MC! He wants you to be comfortable, especially if you're spending time with him.
Levi also gets protective. Wants to keep you by him all the time. Learns any triggers you may have. Always notices if they seem worse than usual and does whatever he can to help mitigate it.
Keeps calm when you have them. He'll ask if you're okay, if you need anything, but he's not in a panic about it. If there is something you need or a certain way you want him to act, just tell him and he's on it.
Satan
When it first happens, he gets serious. Not because he's confused, but because he actually knows exactly what's happening. You should have told him you have tics, MC. Are they motor or vocal or both? He's going to ask you many questions about it.
He won't pry too much though if you indicate that you don't really want to get into the specifics. He is going to want you to tell him how you would like him to react, though. He'll ignore them if that's your preference.
He will be hyper aware of it, but he won't make a big deal out of it, either. Mostly just wants to watch over you to make sure you're okay, especially if you have self-harming tics or intense physical tics.
Anyone who dares to say anything, either to your face or behind your back, will meet with Satan in demon form. Absolutely will not stand for anyone making fun of you in any way and follows through by completely obliterating them when you're not around.
Asmodeus
Doesn't panic or anything, but he is surprised. Wants to know what's happening. Is everything all right with you, MC? Let him take care of you, dear. His instinct is to pamper you. After all, you must be stressed!
Go ahead and explain to him what's going on with you. He's going to want to help you as much as he can. Tell him what you need. If you're doing something really severe or possibly harming yourself, he's going to react more strongly, but he's also going to do whatever you need to minimize any harm that could occur.
Showers you with extra attention. Wants to make sure you feel loved and accepted just the way you are. Quickly figures out anything that might make them worse. Notices when you're not getting enough sleep or you're feeling anxious about something. Helps you relax as much as possible.
Asmo is a social being and he realizes quickly that this can cause you problems when you're among people who are rude or don't understand. He's quick to call out anyone who looks at you weird or says something rude. Flaunts the fact that you're with him.
Beelzebub
Initially concerned. Is something wrong, MC? What can he do to help? This reaction varies depending on the severity of your tics.
Ready to help you in any way. Explain to him what's going on and he's going to stay solidly by your side, as always. Just being around him helps with any stress induced tics because his presence is so calming.
If they get worse when you haven't eaten enough, he will always make sure you've had enough food. This might expand to him realizing what other circumstances might cause them to get worse. Then he's going to watch you to make sure you have everything you need.
All he has to do about jerks is look at them. He doesn't even necessarily need to glare them down. Just looking at them is usually enough. Other demons run away scared if they make fun of you and then get one of those looks.
Belphegor
Okay, something isn't right here. What's going on, MC? You had better tell him because he's going to demand an explanation. Might be aware of it already, but only in a vague sort of way. Wants details about tic disorders, but mostly just wants to know how it is for you specifically.
If they get worse when you're sleep deprived, he will know right away. Of course he'll make it his mission to ensure that you're always well rested. Not only will he just tell you if you need more sleep, he'll insist that you nap with him and make sure you have sweet dreams.
Will probably get into actual fist fights with people if they're mean to you about it. Won't regret it even if he gets in trouble. They deserved to be punched in the face. Anyone with whom he would get into trouble for this kind of thing just lets it slide. They secretly agree with him.
He's actually really good at soothing your anxiety and stress, so if that makes it worse, he's the demon to go to. Keeps calm about it and just helps you in any way you need him to. He's here for you.
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masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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msookyspooky · 1 year
Text
Fours a Franchise
Part 6
wordcount: 7,502
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(Sorry for the delay! Thanks for being patient guys!! 🖤🖤🖤)
"Oh my God…You seriously came here?"
Billy rubbed his wrist that you twisted as he stepped away from you. "Yeah, all because some moron decided coming back to this town was a good idea. If it isn't Stu picking the most dumbass choice humanly possible; it's you."
What he said didn't even faze you enough to reply. You just stared a moment longer. Taken aback by both of them.
Stu had hardly any piercings left. He surprisingly had his hair back to his natural color but in the same slightly spiked look he had a decade ago. Possibly a bit shorter than the last time you saw him to the point it looked more like teen Stu than you had seen since 96. No visible signs of aging at all. With you all only being 32 to 33 years old, that wasn't too shocking. He was wearing a white tank under a dark red button down shirt he rolled up his forearms. It strikingly reminded you of his robe he wore to the party 15 years ago. And then a simple dark pair of jeans and slightly pointed black boots. It was arguably the most 'grown up' you'd ever seen Stu dress while still adding his own flare.
Billy…Now Billy looked so different, it was no wonder you didn't recognize him at first. His hair wasn't as short as it was at Windsor but it was close. His natural waves were fluffy and soft looking as opposed to the oily or crunchy gelled strands near his face you were always used to seeing. He still had deep set eyes but his under eyes weren't nearly as dark or deep as they used to be. His facial hair was gone. He looked more filled out and healthy compared to the last time you saw him; sleep deprived and thinking cigarettes were food. His face was older too. No fine lines, just a more prominent jawline that looked like puberty hit him later in life than it did a guy like Stu. He truly looked different. It was such a stark contrast to the underweight, tired eyed, longer haired 23 year old you last saw. He was wearing a black jacket with a grayish blue t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans with work boots.
"...You gonna get the gun out of our faces or what?" Billy demanded again, still holding his arm you twisted with an offended glare your way.
You kept it pointed, steading yourself. "...So obviously you both sent the note... Why? Why not just say it was you two over the phone?"
Stu shrugged with a half cringe half smirk.  "And ruin the surprise of it all? Same scenario as the last time you saw us. You might not have even came if you knew it was us AND I'm leary of calling you up while you're here in town with Ray and Gale. We can't just wait around in the open so we decided on the note."
"That's understandable, I guess?..." You trailed off while you kept your gun aimed.
"And you calling the law is always a factor." Billy mumbled.
You bit at your inner cheek debating whether to say it. "...I told you both a long time ago; I'm not going to the law. If you both try something; I'll handle it myself…Besides, Woodsboro police aren't an option now."
"Why?" Stu asked. "I mean…Great news for us but why?"
"...Because Dewey is the Sheriff now." You gave, gun still aimed at both of them. "Informing him isn't exactly a great idea for any of us right now; not with this new killer stalking around town and all of us vulnerable."
Both their eyes widened a bit at that
Billy scoffed. "Sheriff? Who the hell voted him in?"
You shrugged with only your shoulders as your gun stayed pointed at them. "He's a town hero and he's dealt with these killers 3 times. He won in a landslide…Now why are both of you here after so long? Inviting me to an isolated Inn late at night with a killer on the loose is freaking dumb."
"Says the person that came out here; alone, at night, with a killer on the loose." Billy countered with a head tilt and raise of his brows.
"...Fair enough. But you think I just forgot my gun and knife and pepper spray at home at a time like this? I could've shot you both."
Billy's expression soured at the mention of your pepper spray. "What else were we supposed to do? Would you rather us just show up wherever you're staying at unannounced?" Billy took a step towards you and you cocked back the hammer with a 'click'.
"Back." You harshly drew out as he stopped mid step. "I don't know who this new killer is, I already fought them once, they seem just as deranged and violent as you two and I don't know your full motive for being here after all this time."
You raised the gun with a glare and he rolled his eyes, seeming completely unphased. "YN. If I wanted to fuck with you, I'd put the mask back on. If I wanted to kill you, I'd have my knife out…Do you see either of those things?"
You eyed him a moment but lowered it as Stu explained. "We had to do it this way, babe! We couldn't take the risk of putting our phoney names without knowing whether you told anyone or not. It's been a decade, alright? Cut us some slack here."
"...How did you find me in town anyways?"
"You're not exactly subtle in Woodsboro, babe. Just walk around and people instantly know where you are…Kind of nerve wracking being back here. I mean, anyone can recognize this priceless mug. I'm like a celebrity here now." Stu gestured to his face.
You raised a brow and lowered your gun more and more until finally just putting it away in your holster with a heavy sigh. Sensing no immediate danger from either of them. You replied.  "Uh yeah, ya think? And aren't you anyways, I mean, considering how recognizable you are on that mov-"
Stu cringed and quickly shook his head at you behind Billy. Walking your way with a huge awkward grin the second Billy turned to look at him. "Uhh, hey! Sweetcheeks! It's really been too long. Don't I get a hug, girl?"
"Uh, no?" You mumbled with a disgusted expression.
"What? Why not?" Stu whined and went to go towards you again and you stepped away from him. Hand on the hilt of your gun still.
"After our conversation on the phone last night? Get bent."
Billy looked interested as Stu stared at you while you glared at him.
"Oh come on, don't be like that! I was just a little peeved is all but it doesn't mean we can't make the best of the situation. I didn't mean any of it! Seriously, your hair looks better in person-"
You gave him a nasty look as he raised a brow and gave you one right back.
"Hey, I could've ignored that call. I was in the middle of something. Actually, someone-" You rolled your eyes with a sneer as he continued. "I'm here now, so how about we drop it and you can show a bit of appreciation for us risking our asses to come back here, alright?"
You huffed at that, not agreeing but knowing you had no time to argue with him.  "What made you change your mind is the most important question I have. I need a motive for all of this. Right now."
Billy folded his arms and finished for both of you. "I don't know Stu's motivation but I know mine. We're killing the killer before he kills you or outs us."
You looked at Stu for clarification and he shrugged. " I kind of called him up to see what he thought. We both decided to come back and lend a helping hand. I said we needed to just get here despite our issues and help you."
Billy shot him a look. "...I said 'no one is killing that bitch but me' but okay."
You gave them both an unamused stare and replied. "Yeah well, I don't know if you should be here now. Things have changed." 
"Talk." Billy demanded.
"Fine. Me and Randy are already on the cop shit list for trying to make a break for it-"
"...Randy Meeks? That nerd is in trouble with the law?" Stu asked while blinking.
"Yeah, sort of. Dewey has officers watching the house 24/7 and following us while I'm legally not allowed to leave. The only reason I'm here right now is because they got distracted by Randy this time while I snuck out.  So if cops do show up here; I didn't call them. It's because I'm being tracked all over Woodsboro."
Stu gave a strange look. "So…Are you still friends with him after all this time?"
Billy gave him a scowl. "Okay, stop talking-"
You interrupted him to answer Stu. "Not relevant but yes. I'm his kids' Godmother. So-"
"He has kids? Plural? Someone let him score multiple times?" Stu gave with a dumbfounded face.
"Twins. Married since 04. So anyways, I wasn't followed but I do have to be quick because I'm already being monitored. Not to mention Gale tracking me. She might have gave up reporting to be Mrs. Riley but she still can find a story out of thin air and she's determined now more than ever to prove Dewey and everybody wrong-"
Stu huffed. "Mrs. Riley? Damn! How much did we fucking miss?"
Billy shook his head. "Okay! We don't have time for this shit!… What's going on? Who are the suspects? What do we need to know?"
You quickly informed him. "Evidence was put in the trunk of my rental car as soon as I got here, making it so I can't leave. 2 girls were killed the way you both killed Casey and Steve. One girl last night like Tatum was..." You almost faltered at the mention of Tatum but released a breath and continued. "My assistant had her throat slit and thrown onto a van in front of the hospital last night. Like Kenny; Gale's Cameraman."
Billy took it in and asked. "Leads?"
"We don't know. It couldn't have been me, Randy, Randy's Wife, Dewey or Gale because we all are present when these kills keep happening." Stu opened his mouth and you grimaced. "And PLEASE do not say partners because if I hear the partner thing one more time my head will fucking explode."
"ACTUALLY...I was going to ask how the victims are related to each other, YN."
"Oh…Olivia was…" You trailed off, unsure how much they should know. Especially with Jill being Sidney's cousin. "They're all seniors at Woodsboro High School except for Rebecca. We can't tie anything together other than they're copying kills."
"Think they'll kill tonight?" Stu mumbled to Billy.
Billy clicked his tongue in thought. "Depends. If they're an impatient teen eager to carve their name into this town; they will. If they're playing the long game, they might skip a night or two to get red herrings…Not too long or they'll get caught." Billy answered matter of factly.
Stu added. "If they're copying us; they'll kill soon. A big one. One that's going to distract people just like you did with the Principal while I entertained my party. Probably just so they can get to YN while everyone's busy."
You frowned. "But they're not killing in order. So we have no idea when the 'final kill' is going to happen or who. They act like I'm not the main target-"
"They're lying." Billy interrupted before looking at Stu. "...So, we do the same shit we did a decade ago. Follow YN from the shadows without getting caught and see who fucks up…Agreed?"
He looked at you and you nodded. What other choice was there?
Stu shrugged. "So…What? We just wait here? Twiddle our thumbs and wait?"
Billy stared Stu down. "Believe me. I'm not happy being around you either after all these years of oeace but this shit needs to be taken care of. Fast."
You almost asked if they really hadn't talked in 10 years but stopped yourself. You quickly went to the door before they could argue.
"The cops will be looking for me any moment if they aren't out already. So Stu, can you text me Billy's number later?"
Stu looked offended. "Why do you need his number? I can be the middleman."
"Don't start this territorial bullshit again, Stu. " Billy mumbled. "...Here. Give me your phone."
You hesitated and Billy impatiently held out his hand. You went to contacts and gave it to him before he typed it in. He handed it back to you as you saw the name 'Vincent's Mechanic Shop'.
"Just tell people I'm a mechanic you go to for car troubles; if anyone asks."
You nodded…You secretly wanted to stay longer and ask questions just as much as Stu tried to earlier but you knew it was a giant risk if you did so. "Thanks…I'll text you both more details later-"
"No texting. Call only." Billy corrected.
You sighed. "I get the reason, but Billy, cell phone companies can recover calls now-"
Stu chimed in. "Then we'll just use code! Like…'Pizza' if there's a kill. 'Extra cheese' if it's someone we know. 'Delivery is on the Way' if a suspect is near you- "
Billy rolled his eyes. "Yeah her texting her mechanic about pizza isn't strange at all."
You anxiously got near the door knowing it had been past 5 minutes talking to them. "Look, I don't have time for this! We'll call when we're alone and discuss it as vaguely as we can over the phone-"
"Wait. Where are you staying?" Billy asked.
You faltered with your hand on the door.
Billy sighed with an eyeroll. "...YN. If it's at Dewey's or Randy's; I'm not going after them. Why would I risk getting caught killing those 3 after 15 years when we have bigger problems? Besides, it's not a huge town and I grew up here. Not hard to find people."
You remembered Hollywood. Them sleep deprived and mentioning killing Randy and Dewey just to 'make sure' they weren't the killers. How he said the same thing AT FIRST until time went by and they got more impatient and soon they went back to being the two you fought in Highschool; eager to kill anyone from Woodsboro no matter the cost.
You opened the door as Billy yelled your name and simply told him. "I'll call you or you call me." With that, you got out of the room.
You quickly got to your car as fast as you could. Not even giving yourself a moment to breathe as you opened the door and jumped into the jeep to avoid someone slashing your ankles under the car. You locked all the doors and started the jeep to get out of there. But you quickly remembered and whipped around. Not forgetting the horror rule of looking in your backseat. Seeing it was empty before putting your car into reverse to back out and drive out of that parking lot to get back to Randy as soon as possible.
Meanwhile…You didn't notice someone watching you leave…They sat in the driver's seat of an unmarked dark vehicle across the street. Holding up their phone and snapping pictures of you leaving the motel.
They waited till you were half way down the block before they cautiously followed you.
                                        ✦
You pulled the jeep onto the curb and opened your door to rush out in park before you even turned the engine all the way off. There you were, rushing up the sidewalk to the front door and cursing that you forgot Randy had the house key with him.
'FUCK!' You thought as you started picking up odd colored rocks and looking under flower pots on the porch. You looked up and your fingers skimmed the top of the door as you stood on your tiptoes. You almost lost hope, trying to think of what to tell Randy before you felt it. A relieved grin formed as you got the extra key from deep behind the doors paneling and unlocked…You turned the key and opened the door right when headlights pulled into the driveway.
You turned around to see Randy pulling in and the cops pulled in down the street. Too late to rush in and act like you were never out here.
Randy got out, carrying a bag in one hand and his keys in the other as he gave you an odd smile. "Uh, watchya doing?"
You forced a smile, trying to calm your nerves. You white knuckled the steering wheel the entire way back and then broke into a sweat trying to find a spare key. Heart sinking at how ungodly close of a call that was as you slipped the spare key in your pocket and swore you'd put it back later. If anyone found out you left, that you went to a motel, that you were meeting two guys there undetected during a murder, that those two guys were the original Woodsboro Killers that actually lived? You might as well kiss your entire existence goodbye.
"Oh j-just waiting on you." You smiled, clutching your arms as a cool breeze blew. "Just thought I'd get some fresh air while I wait. "
"You're sweating??" He muttured.
"Yeah it's why I came out here…You know, just to feel the fall breeze."
Randy gave you a head tilt and scolding expression. "Jeez, you could've turned down the thermostat; I wouldn't mind. Anything's better than outside, alone, at night. Have you learned nothing?!"
"I know, I know! But the street lights are on and it's like 9 so it's not like it's a bustly party or pitch black or 3 in the morning! Besides, I have a weapon."
Randy sighed and opened the door. "Yeah well, one day, maybe that gun won't save you. Just be careful, alright?"
You felt guilty because if he had any clue just how much you've been pushing your safety and luck all these years and just did not even 10 minutes ago; he'd be distraught.
"I will…"
You sat on the couch almost 2 hours after he got back. Randy passed out in the chair from the lack of sleep the night before and had Trick R Treat playing in the background on the tv. Randy complained the Sci Fi channel was severely lacking with reruns already and probably wouldn't even play Horror or Sci Fi Horror during Halloween in the next year or two. 'No wonder streaming is taking over! Who wants to pay cable bills to watch the same 3 movies over and over again?' He grumbled as he put it on earlier. He fell asleep 10 minutes ago while it was almost at the transformation scene.
You were tired too and you wanted to just shut your eyes and forget anything the last few days ever happened. Just mentally shut down and shut your brain off…But you couldn't. You couldn't just ignore the picture of yourself or the very intimate letter burning a hole in your pocket. You couldn't ignore Billy and Stu being alive and back in town and the angst it brought with them. You couldn't ignore the fact you just fired your publisher that you signed your life away to just for her to come up dead and now your future if you survived was like a clean slate. You couldn't ignore how nice it felt to be watching movies with Randy or having coffee with Gale or late night talks with Dewey and it took another killer to do it. Most of all, you couldn't ignore the fact another killer was on the loose and one of you may not be here to see tomorrow if the killer striked soon.
You sighed as you felt your phone vibrate. Getting it off your lap on the blanket you were wrapped in and looking at it to see it was almost midnight. You scrunched your face to see a text.
'Whenever you get the chance can you call me it's about that car part you ordered last week.'
It took you a few moments to register who the hell Vincent was and what he was talking about. Once you did, you instantly sat up a bit. You looked over to Randy, still passed out and snoring with the tv a little too loud.
You didn't want to risk going outside. So instead, you slowly sat up. Inching off the couch and pushing the blanket to the side. Randy made a noise and you froze before you saw him toss his head to the side and continue sleeping. You settled back down and got up. Before you even dared get too distracted; you checked the front door, the windows, went down the hall to the kids rooms, Randy and Karla's. You even checked the bathroom and every closet in the small house. Just to make sure the coast was clear and you could at least go to the garage to talk without something happening to Randy while you were talking. You finally checked the back door, making sure it was locked and jiggling the handle a bit just to satisfy your own sense of security before creeping to the garage. It was the best choice. The big door near impossible for it to open from the outside without a remote or severe damage that you could get help in time. Making it the safest spot. It may not have been as safe as in Randy and Karla's room or the kids room or bathroom but that was just a stone throw away from Randy. At least this was safer than outside but far enough away you could talk low and be relatively unheard.
You didn't fully shut the door from the kitchen leading to the garage; wanting to still be aware of Randy and the house as you left it cracked just enough to peer into the living room where the tv and chair were.
You settled on the step infront of the door and locked at your phone. You hesitated pressing the call button…That stupid letter shouldn't have changed anything or seeing him tonight. The fight you had with him 10 years ago and the terms you both parted ways on should be the only thing on your mind. That and getting this new killer.
You faltered with a frown before taking a deep breath and just doing it.
It took only two rings before he picked up.
"Yeah?"
"Vince, did something go wrong with that car part?" You cautiously asked in some vague code.
"I'm alone. We can talk."
You nodded, and still spoke in hushed tones. "Yeah, so am I. I'm still calling you Vince…Because you know and not talking about…The past."
"Far enough. It's not the cold war; I highly doubt every call is monitored by the Government or some shit like that. But good job for being cautious. "
"With the murders and me being a suspect, victim and apparently a material witness? It wouldn't shock me if everything is bugged right now." You mumbled while eyeing the garage.
"I would've thought you'd be used to the attention by now and everyone dissecting your every word and watching your every move. I can't turn on my damn tv anymore without seeing your face on it. "
"...Not really. Truth be told, I hate it most of the time."
"Most? So there is a part of you that likes it."
You gave a slight bitter smirk that faded to a frown. "I mean, I don't have to work a 9 to 5. I get to travel. I make decent money. I feel like a complete asshole complaining to anyone because of those 3 reasons."
"Hey, you are an asshole. Hasn't stopped your mouth before." He said as you heard a breeze over the phone from him outside. You sensed no malice in his tone, in fact, if you didn't know any better you'd say he was…Teasing. He continued in a low mumble. "But it's not your job to make people feel better about their shitty lives by censoring your own issues. Life can suck no matter how perfect everything seems from the outside."
You gave a slight nod to yourself. "Yeah…I guess sometimes they can."
You wanted to ask him so much. Details about his life, what his past was really like now that the facade was gone, what he had been doing all this time …The letter.
You paused your thoughts, reminding yourself of the situation. "Listen, Randy is asleep in the other room and I don't want to get caught. So we probably should make this quick whatever you called me about."
"We will. I just wanted to talk without a time crunch and without space cadet interrupting every few seconds...But if you are caught, as far as anyone's concerned, I'm the mechanic for your car asking about a part and we got sidetracked talking about what's happening in Woodsboro with these murders… Although…Not to be like stupid earlier and get off topic but I gotta admit I'm surprised."
"By what?"
"That he got married to someone that wasn't you." He quietly gave. He hesitated as you listened intently. "...Would've thought he would have been crawling back to you by now. That he was your little background husband waiting on the sidelines while you did interviews for your book. Maybe even with one or two little Meeklings running around your lavish home when you got back."
You softly huffed in amusement. "Seriously? No, that wasn't going to happen. I still live at that cabin and Randy lives here where the rest of his family is. Besides, Karla is stunning. Ray adores her and the feeling must be mutual. They're all over each other, it's kind of gross." You joked.
"I would say I don't believe it but then again I was shocked he apparently pulled you at Windsor. So I don't know what that guy has up his sleeve but something is working for him…I take it you're both not flirting with each other anymore? It drove…'Dennis' nuts." He corrected the name.
"We weren't flirting just trying to annoy each other."
"Well, whatever you call it, I'm sure you're boyfriend or husband or whatever is glad that Meek Geek has someone else to drool over."
You shook your head with a weird smirk. "Uhh…There's no man or anyone romantically in my life…Are you asking-"
"NO." He answered harshly. "That simp I'm bunking with was wanting to know. Not me."
You lightly rolled your eyes. "So you weren't a little curious with all this probing?"
"Nope. Just small talk."
You sighed and muttured. "No, I'm single and childless. I haven't even considered anyone since Mark."
"...The Detective?" He asked in a soft tone.
You hummed in response, frowning to yourself as you whispered.  "It's for the best. People close to me get hurt. They die…Marriage and kids and that life Randy picked or even what Dewey and Gale got to have was never in my cards. You said it yourself last time we saw each other."
The line was silent for a few moments. "...I mean…That was like a decade ago. Things change..."
"Yeah and look what happened? Ten years later and someone is trying to kill me and anyone close to me again." You bitterly gave.
"...Not if I have to be here. I don't care about Randy or Dewey or anyone else but you're not dying on their blade. Not after this much effort." He grumbled.
You almost thought it was chivalry for just a split second, getting sidetracked by how smooth of a conversation this was…But it wasn't long till his words sunk in that you were just territory and the final prize to his kill count. Then you remembered just because he was being sort of pleasant didn't mean he was some old friend to catch up with…Your smile faded and a frown replaced it as you remembered who EXACTLY you were talking to. This wasn't Randy or Mark or Derek or some other old fling or old friend…This was a guy that's choked you, hit you, tried to kill you 3 times, threatened to kill everyone you loved and claimed he was 'helping you' after not seeing each other for 10 years…Lest you forget the names of your dead friends and potential dead friends in that letter and the idea of ever being with him just to not know what he had done. If him and Stu hadn't panicked and tried to kill you before the party, you would have been unaware…If you would have promised to go while walking with Billy; that rainy night at your house would've never happened. You would have gone to the party, been stabbed nearly to death, everyone dead but you and those two…And they would have gotten away with it.
You put your fingers to your mouth in thought as he spoke. You sighed warily and tried to settle onto the concrete step near the door to take a seat. "...Why did you call me?"
"…What do you think?" He replied under his breath.
You looked up in thought and whispered back. "What more is there to talk about? Some maniac is trying to replicate the Woodsboro Murders from 15 years ago."
He paused before drawing out. "...There's gotta be something. Four people are dead and you're telling me there's no leads?"
You rolled your mouth and ran a hand over your face. "Well…Their goal is to keep me here. Before I went to Olivia's house to try and help her across the street, I got a call on her phone…Something about them watching me crash and burn and telling me I'm not as important as I think I am."
You heard him give an unamused chuckle a bit at that. "Jealousy and seeking Fame. Not shocking. They're after the same shit Roman was after. Or maybe even that fuckhead at Windsor. "
You hesitated, almost wanting to ask him more about Roman like how the hell did the talk of murder happen or what happened exactly but you decided it was best not to. Especially on the phone in your current location.
He continued. "Well, we have a motive. You're the survivor, the famous author, the walking talking all American motivational speech and they can't stand it. They kill you, they get famous for your murder."
You raised your brows a bit. "Wow. That makes sense...God. Don't these fuckers get tired? I'm so sick of this being my life every few years all because of what happened. Kind of wish I would have died with Sidney and Tatum if I knew I'd be dealing with this for the rest of my fucking life." You mumbled under your breath with a deep hopeless feeling in your chest.
The line grew extremely silent at that as he cleared his throat. "...Yeah well…Didn't happen. Now, you're gonna have to buck up and get in survival mode till we find the fucker doing this…Gale?"
You shrugged and let your shoulders sag with a sigh. "A decade ago I would say yes but she's been on her best behavior."
"Oh, and what's that?"
"Well, she limits her insults to only one a day per person. She's got a better arsenal of witty comebacks than you do." You joked and you knew he was rolling his eyes. "And she gave up journalism for writing fiction."
"Pft, of what?"
"I don't know, like, fictional murder stories? She's not written too much. Besides, she's never been out of sight while a kill has happened."
"Doesn't fully convince me. In my very qualified opinion; she's a suspect. I'd say she's too old and a female but...But after...Mom...Anyone is a suspect now."
You felt your brows knit together at him being willing to talk about his Mom, even mention her. Yes, it was over a decade but it was also Billy. You were taken aback to say the least.
He continued. "Middle aged woman past her prime. Built her entire life around her career just to sell it off to be Doofus's wife. That's punishment enough. Then add salt to the wound with you being half her age, famous, and a talented author that can out write her when writing stories used to be her job and she clearly can't even do that anymore…Prime suspect. Same as 10 years ago."
You blinked repeatedly at that, softly asking with a slight smirk. "Wow, high praise...You…almost sound like you've read my book?"
The line was silent before he answered harshly. "No. I just know you must be good enough to be famous, conceited. Besides, people will read anything if it has enough promising awful details about a person's life."
You felt your features sag as you monotoned. "Yeah, you might actually be right. My assistant really sold my soul to the whole 'victim for life' message…She basically told me what to write and here I am! So apparently Gale's problem is people don't feel sorry enough for her. Me? All people have to hear is my name and suddenly the murders are all they know and how much I lost and all I get is sympathetic looks my way."
"Oh my God, shut up." He groaned out.
You scrunched your face in confusion at his tone. "What??"
"YN. Seriously, there's nothing more pathetic than someone wallowing in self pity. It's bad enough people pity you without you pitying yourself. I don't know how Randy or Dewey talk to you but I can't stand that whiny bullshit."
You bristled at that. "Oh, self pity. Yeah okay, I'm sure you never ever felt bad for yourself. It was just your entire reason to…Do what you did in the past. Besides, may I remind you WHO made my life like this?"
"Yep. What? You gonna just cry about it for the next 40 years IF you live that long?"
"It's not crying, it's a fact! It's my life. I can't just turn the trauma off! It's daily! You act like my entire life wasn't built around this and what two jackasses did to me." You tried so hard to keep your voice down.
"Because you let it be your life. You use it as a crutch, YN. Because you're scared and living in the 'poor me' mindset is easier than getting through it and living a normal life."
You scoffed louder than you meant to. "Who the hell do you think you are? We haven't spoke in years and you think you know me well enough to give life advice?"
"I'm not arguing with you. Drop it. Pity yourself and be the victim forever. Who gives a shit?" 
"You're a fine one to talk about pity! ALL of this was because you made yourself out to be the victim 15 years ago-"
"You ever think maybe I'm speaking to you from experience, dipshit? That I've been down that road before you were? I was sleeping in abandoned buildings and numbing the pain with anything I could because I was so caught up in my unnamed past and my current situation. Believe me, I'm well aware that years ago I was a fucking mess." He hissed out. "And I'm telling you from personal experience to not let that shit eat you alive and delude yourself into thinking it's who you are and all you fucking have because life is going to keep going whether you like it or not and the only thing keeping you in the past is you. Randy seemed to move on. Dewey did. Gale did….Dennis has. I have. Even if you did go through more shit than Randy or Dewey or Gale did; how long before its all just a bunch of excuses?"
You were taken aback by the conversation…Not really having a conversation like this since you were teenagers. Maybe not even then. Your shoulders untensed as the line was silent…You faltered but just openly said it. "It's not the same because you created this; I just tried to survive. Let's drop it, alright? My life is my life and your life is yours to live however the fuck we both want."
He scoffed at your tone but agreed. "Fine by me. I want to solve this and go back to my life without you two anyways…You said your publicist died and you had evidence planted in your rental car?" He changed the subject.
"Uh huh." You monotoned with a scowl.
"And she was the one with keys to your rental, right?"
"Yep."
"That's where the evidence was found and that isn't suspicious to you? She could have faked her death like that one crazy bitch at Windsor did."
"Yeeaahhh…She was thrown onto a van from a 5th story building parking garage and her throat was slit approximately 30 minutes or so before that…So either she's the best actress and stunt woman to ever live or she's dead."
Your eyes trailed over to the crack in the door and you jolted. Gasping sharply and almost dropping the phone as you saw a dark figure standing next to Randy's chair. You saw the silver knife glimmering in their hand. They bent over the chair and you instantly ran. Leaving your phone and Billy on the other line on the garage step. You ran through the kitchen as you reached into your pocket, towards the open but dark living room with your pocket knife as the figure turned around.
You froze as the figure was revealed to be Randy who yelped at you rushing towards him with a knife. He jumped back in alarm as you froze in the doorway. Realizing the dark figure in the dim room was him in his black pajamas bending over the chair with the silver remote in his hand.
….You faltered. You swore you saw a a cloaked figure and possibly a mask…Maybe it was just your eyes playing tricks on you?...
"FUCK YN! " He yelled out, almost falling backwards over the reclining chair as you held the knife up a few feet away. His eyes were huge and his face contorted in fear and shock. "What the hell are you doing?! It's me!"
You swallowed and quickly put the knife down. You gave him an apologetic look. "I-I'm sorry! I thought…I thought you were the killer!"
"No!" He scoffed, giving you a wary look. "Jesus…"
"I said I'm sorry!"
"Well get some sleep to rest your eyes or something!...When's the last time you've taken your medication?"
You glared at him. "Randy, I haven't seen any hallucinations in years and haven't taken it since."
"...You sure?"
"Yes! I'm fine. You're right, I'm just tired." You mumbled, putting a hand on your forehead and your knife away.
"What were you doing anyways? I got up and you were gone. I thought you were in the bathroom or something."
You closed your eyes and motioned to the garage. "It's fine, I was just…" Your eyes snapped open. "Crap." You ran back to the garage as fast as you could through the kitchen and then through the door. You heard Billy yelling your name on the other line and you quickly hung up.
You whipped around to see Randy behind you in the kitchen giving you a strange look. "Were you… Talking to someone?"
"Uhh- Yeah, my mechanic."  You breathlessly exclaimed before trying to calm down and play it off.
"At midnight??"
"Yeah, my car is in the shop and he had a question about the part. That's all."
He raised a brow. "I thought I heard talking over the werewolf scene…Who is he?"
You forced your way past him, palms sweating and body tense. "No one! Just some mechanic."
Randy smirked knowingly. "Uh huh. Look, if you have someone-"
"I don't."
"I mean, you seem a little flustered over just a mechanic." He mused. "If it's half true and he IS a mechanic filling more than your oil-"
"Randy!" You snapped meaner than what you wanted. Frustrated he was taking your tense demeanor as being flustered and even more frustrated on the fact you had to lie to him. "...I'm not talking to anyone romantically, okay?" You drew out.
"Okay! Just a joke. Besides, if you were, they'd definitely be a suspect...But other than that, it's okay if you were! I'd be glad if you found a partner!" You were silent and Randy's brow rose upward as he gave you a concerned look. "YN…Are you okay? You've been acting strange since we went to Billy's house today…Actually, even earlier than that like since I talked to Karla on the phone at the coffee shop. I came back and your entire demeanor changed."
You felt guilt weighing on you. Guilt you hadn't felt since Hollywood. You forced a soft smile. "I'm fine, really. I'm sorry for freaking out. I guess the stress is getting to me more than I thought."
He eyed you, clearly not convinced but accepted it. "Well try to get some sleep. Do you need me to sleep in the chair or-?" You noticed him wince when he moved his neck a certain way and you instantly smiled and shook your head.
"No, I'm fine. Go to your bed and get some sleep."
"Okay, if you insist. I'd offer for you to bunk with me but it's a full and we've been looking for a Queen and-"
You held up a hand. "Ray, it's fine. Really. No offense but I'm not waking up tomorrow to you laying on me with morning breath. I have enough of that at home when I wake up with Cherri wanting outside."
He quirked a sideways grin and stretched to walk away. "Alright, alright. Get some sleep…And I swear to god if I wake up to you hallucinating and hovering over me with a knife-"
"Good night, Ray!" You called out. "Besides, you have PTSD too so how do I know you aren't going to do that to me?"
He mumbled incoherently under a yawn and went to his room. You smiled and waited a second before looking at your phone to see a very not so pleasant text message from your 'mechanic'
'if your not dead fucking answer me'
Any 'code' or 'ambiguous' texting rules flew out the window. Followed by a few colorful insults as you cringed texted back.
'Sorry! False alarm I couldn't call you back because of Randy being in the room'
You expected a text back but got nothing. You rolled your eyes and flopped onto the couch.
"Whatever…" You whispered under your breath as you looked at your phone and sat it on the table. You curled up with the blanket, staring at it.
Deepdown inside….Talking to Billy and Stu when they weren't complete assholes was missed. It hurt knowing when this was all over Randy and Dewey would go back to acting like you were some distant relative they saw here and there instead of the  supposed best friend and found little sister you were to them. You knew people got busy but the more you thought about it...You had been the one to text or call them the last few times and you were touring the country for book signings.
'Stop. They love you. Life just gets ahead of people, that's all...Maybe after this we can work on being there for each other more? Nothing like a funeral to bring the family together.' You smiled slightly remembering Randy said that at Windsor.
You closed your eyes with an exhale through your nostrils. Frowning and curling into the blanket with your knife under your pillow and gun in its box on the floor next to the couch…No matter how much you were cherishing movie nights with just you and Randy like old times or that talk with Dewey in this living room or even that extremely rare slightly pleasant conversation with Billy and no Ghostface voice, threats, screaming insults or potential kill…You still couldn't wait to get the person responsible for all of this and settle it once and for all.
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genderstealer2000 · 4 months
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How do you start gender hoarding? I know that it might sound like a stupid question, but you see, I live in a place where trans people and nbs are looked down upon but lesbians and gays are ok. (rural Australia)
I felt weird coming out to my bf as a demigirl( I am AFAB) and he knows I’m a furry, but doesn’t know about my alter humanity (questioning therian)
So my view of gender is very “traditional” and where I live there’s only really female, male, trans and (very rare) nonbinary. I also have highly suspected autism/ self diagnosed yet I don’t see gender in a way I hear people with autism do, probably due to my upbringing
I want to know from a person like you who knows the “newer” ways of gender how I should gender hoard and not stick myself to just the traditional genders
its not a stupid question at all!! ill do my best to answer! so i identify as agender transmasc. agender goes under the trans umbrella and nonbinary, but i dont see myself as gender neutral i just have no gender. now going more into the transmasc, just means i feel more masculine. doesnt really effect the way i present my gender any differently, hmm i guess i dont really know how to explain it. i dont understand the concept of gender, i dont understand a lot of social constructs, i honestly think its sort of unneeded. my gender is complex in the most noncomplex way, its vast and its tiny. ive made my own genders based off of feelings and intrests, i think thats the best way to get started with genderhoarding. making your own ideas, analyzing yourself. (personally its helped me become more aware of who i am!) imaginationnnnn!! creativity!! make something up, no ones stopping you! the way i view gender is its what makes you, you. it doesnt have to make sense to anyone but you. it doesnt have to make sense! some of the things i tie in with my gender are the rustling of leaves in a forest, fog in the early morning, large fields, chaotic music, soft stuffed animals, the smell of pavement after it rains, soft piano music, acoustic guitar, the moon some of those things are real different!! and those are some of the things that i view my gender as! i think its a lot easier too with the internet, theres a ton of people who have similar ideas and interests so they also make genders, sexualities, and flags to go along with them.
i have a board on pinterest that i frequently add stuff to, i could link it here if you would like! i also save just anynthing that pops up if it remindes me of my friends or it seems cool. it doesnt mean i identify with it, but its cool to read about them! i keep track of them in a notebook as well!! my genders relate to my hyperfixations, mostly. Hyperfixations and anything that i can relate too! ex. horrormasc: a masculine aligned horrorgender. fits both definitions (1: a horrifying/all over the place gender, and 2: a gender related to different horror genres) raingender: a xenogender connected to the rain scenekid/scene neutral, oldwebemoic, onlineboyic, endspacic etc, etc. dont feel rushed at all to tell your boyfriend! when i started feeling more comfortable telling people, i made sure to have articals pulled up to read, notes etc. so it would be easier to sort me thoughts? get it out more smoothly. i also wanted to talk about self-diagnosing!! i hear so much negative about it, but honestly, its good to research and try and find out things about yourself. that my opinion. and not for longterm, just for a bit until you can get evaluated. gahhhhh self diagnosing is valid and it makes me so mad to see people who think its not. granted, some people to just see a couple things and "oh yup got that" but when you really spend time looking at signs, symptoms, traits it can be very beneficial in the long run, and also just to check before you go get evaluated also i apologize if this is insanely long, or if it makes no sense. im sleep deprived, im trying to fall asleep gahh i hope this helped even a little bit!! if you want me to expand on anything or explain anything further feel free to dm me!
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na-t0 · 1 year
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𝘛𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵
Vash the Stampede x reader (no pronouns used)
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The piece below contains the bleak words from a remitter that considered not deserving a response from its addressee. A mere confession from a worn out soul to another.
A farewell letter dedicated to the man with a geranium colored spirit.
A farewell letter dedicated to the man that will be loved until the five moons that adorn the sky, fall before the eyes of this desolate heart.
The reason why I am writing this letter to you is somewhat difficult to explain. It's something much bigger than me, a greater power beyond my comprehension that unfortunately, is slowly consuming everything around me. I’ve come to find myself plunged into deep despair, and at the same time, I learnt to accept the cowardice that has been invading me for not being able to muster the necessary strength to look at you in the eyes and tell you what you will read here in a few moments.
Pretty easy right? To hide between words, ink and paper. I'm sorry about that.
I will start by saying that, when I first met you, I came to realize that everything I knew and defined as my world would transform into something entirely different. You were the strike of lightning in the pouring rain, a hit that came with enough force to demolish an entire city. Your presence was all over the place, making it hard to ignore you. Every step you took resonated loudly in my head. And despite of what your name represents and what people often acknowledges you as, I have realized that it only covers a small part of what you truly are.
I think you are incredible, Vash. You are kind, you are a gentle being. You are the most wonderful coincidence that I have met in my life. You are an imperfect creation, but so am I. And so is everything else. And no matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to fully comprehend your greatness. But that's okay, because I already came to create my own conclusions. Just like you don't need to fully understand why I feel the way I feel when I notice you are near me. Or how the blood flows violently in each and every of my veins when I hear you breathing softly while you are sleeping on my chest. Even when, I suppose that you too have already come to create your own conclusions about it.
My love for you has grown so unbridled that I fear of losing my mind. So, that's why I decided to get away from you, from the room we shared, from the city where we used to travel together. Having you by my side hurt, because despite the suffocating closeness, you were still miles away from me.
And it hurt, it hurt immensely because my heart is exposed. Open the palm of your hand and there you will find it, bleeding and throbbing with emotion and life. While yours, is hiding behind an iron barrier attached to the left side of your chest. A barrier I could never cross no matter how hard I tried.
And because of that, I wish your gaze had never met mine. I wish you had never saved my life. I wish our lips had never touched. I wish you had never felt embarrassed to undress yourself in front of me. I wish I never had to see you cry while nightmares tormented you at midnight. I wish your pain would just go away. I wish you never had to suffer. I wish you had never deprived me of the right to love you.
I wish for so many things.
And I also foolishly wish that you loved me as much as I do, despite everything, despite all of this.
I love the scars in your body that form together a map I have traveled so many times with my lips, a map vividly embodied in my memory. I love your eyes and the color of your hair. I love the little mole that adorns the highest part of your left cheekbone. The aroma of your skin and the contrast of temperatures that your hands emit when you embrace me. I love when you laugh and I also love that you are easily moved to tears. I love the sound of your voice at any time of the day. I love listening to you hum that song you like so much and I love dancing with you that waltz we drunkenly invented one night out in the dark alley of a bar, and therefore, only you and I know. I love all the versions I've met of you.
I have even come to hate that word, ‘love’, because I consider that is too vague to describe what arises within my being when I lift my stare from the floor and see you standing in front of me. But I've learned to settle for it, so yes, I love you. I absolutely love everything about you, your worst and your best. I love you, Vash. And I am a slave to my own body because it refuses to feel otherwise, to think otherwise.
I will be devoted to you until eternity comes to an end, even though I don't really have a clue of how long that will be.
Knowing you, that idea does not please you at all.
So, forgive me.
Forgive me for stumbling upon your way that rainy day, and for trying to love you the days that came next.
Forgive me for that, and for all the other things, so I can leave without wanting to look back.
                   -Yours entirely. Yours forever.
What followed after was the image of Vash going through the door, running after those faint footsteps of your boots imprint in the unforgiving sand of May City. Holding against his chest the crumpled piece of paper that had the last bit of your essence. The trace that a weak, broken heart left behind as an old souvenir. Pieces slowly intermingling with the ground, waiting to be picked up by the hands that undid them in the first place. And as he ran, it wasn't just the scorching sun of a summer afternoon the only thing that burned. The love you felt for that mysterious man with the empty smile and tender eyes was consumed in ashes. The sun was burning, but your heart and your soul, were burning even stronger. And Vash ran, he ran for hours until his legs sank in the dryness. Ran until your trail was lost. And he cried too, cried until exhaustion did not allow a single more sob to come out of his throat. But he managed to stand up, just like he always has, and kept searching. Praying silently to the heavens for another coincidence, another way to find you once again.
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