#i didnt have a choice... it all just sort of swallowed me...

[etherylelixyr]

Fucccckkkkk (the feels man)

#idk leaving texts for X so they see them in the morning #and i wanna tell them everything #i wanna tell them that im sorry for basically becoming a ghost of myself for 2 years and ignorning them and only hanging out with V #on the outside everything looked perfect but it was so mutually toxic and destructive but we revelled in the self destruction and pain #and it was our secret. fueling our habits and shutting everyone else out #we were both so depressed but the high from it all was worth it... at the time #looking back i feel sad for that-era us #that-era me #i left all the people who truly wanted the best for me. who were my closest friends. who loved me more than i loved them... #now im back. officially. no more of this self destructive sad mess of a ghost creature. #but i cant change the past... #i still left X for so long without an explanation. and it looks like i chose someone else over them. i wish i could explain to them #that it's not like that. #i didnt have a choice... it all just sort of swallowed me... #i felt so lost and so dead. #but now im ok. #we were talking about Who Is most Likely To in the new friend group.. and one of the questions was Likely to Change their Personality #and X turned to me and went. well Elixyr has known me long enough to see that happen- #and yeah ive known them waaay longer than any of their current friends. #and yeah. theyve changed. and so have i. #but the change wasnt some edgy Change my Entire Personality thing. it was just... becoming less mentally ill... and sad... #and trying to be a better n happier person #but theyre still sad... and i wish they werent. i wish i was around before to make them happy... fuck i hate past me. #sometimes we talk and i realise just how much theu push all of it down. they tell me about how theu want to drink themselves to sleep a lot #and thats... worrying... #and i wish i were a better friend. i wish i knew how to comfort them better. they dont understand why i care so much about them #and i want to hug them and tell them that im so sorry. i feel so guilty that i might have added to their lack of self worth #and im a massive hypocrite. i tell them that theyre not responsible for other peoples feelings and to not think about it like that. #i wanna tell them that no matter how much they think theyve changed. theyre still the same person i loved since the start. #but they'd take that the wrong way... i wanna tell them that it's them. it'll always be them. and im sorry.

[johannwolfgangvongoethe]

Further Umineko Posting

episode 1, part 2

battler is in the unique position of having been a Normal Guy™ ages 12 to 18, which explains a lot of his weirder comments on wealth (i didnt choose to be born rich.... my family owns a yacht.... pensive emoji) after all, he just got there. add to that, jessica (future heir) and george (oldest of his generation) bear the brunt of expectations while he is Just above a 9yo in the hierarchy. it makes sense the story focusses on his view, he is somewhat of an outsider and its easy to explain dynamics through his eyes.

saying the natural beauty of the island and its large wild bird population should give way for a golf course was a terrible take, still.

i said before that he is a very believable 18yo. so far the writing did well to capture that weird sort of liminal period between Playing Adult and internalizing the adult play behaviours so that they manifest in Being An Adult. hope this makes sense.

another conflict has been reoccuring; the servants call themselves furniture. there has been little direct interaction between ushiromiya family members and servants so far so its hard to tell whether this mindset is employed but them or the the older servants themselves. POSSIBLY related to that, shannons winged emblem is on her thigh. no idea whether this is a funny design choice or, more dubiously, marks her in her role for life. interestingly, gohda and kumasawa seem to be the only servant characters without this emblem. their names also dont follow the same convention as kanons and shannons. possibly because they existed elsewhere before they were hired to work here, while shannon and kanon ....??!?!? grew up in this enviroment and had to accept their names from it. maybe this is what "being furniture" means, their status is quite belonging-like. genji seems to have been with kinzo forever, so he fits that category too. would be funny if they ended up being some sort of enchanted candleholders, all beauty and the beast like.

i finally saw every family member, i believe. krauss and jessicas hair colour is suspicious but oh well. kinzos mental state has been tanking dramatically. he seemed stressed out in the intro but sociable at least. now he just appears as a drunken choleric. genjis is in the weird role of enabling his selfdestruction. how much of this is him spiralling over some business he has with beatrice and how much of it is ???? dementia? i up in the air. krauss believes it to be later. it struck me when he said his father is already dead, only a phantom remains.

unhinged out there thing to say but kinzo reminds me so much of my own grandfather, though he had no beatrice..... there was always Someone bestowing evil unto him in his very potent paranoia, though. a few years ago i would not have been able to read umineko, i think. but my grandfather has been dead for a while and my family is poor and we didnt all get murdered on an island. so thats great!!! they are very similar though, lol.

also weird that i read two visual novels in a row and both of them closely describe how absinthe is prepared and looks. unlikely but not impossible. ANOTHER UNEXPECTED PERSONAL THING: funny how i Just learned about the hour of the ox from enstars of all places lmao. are both topics a staple in vn or am i just running into them by chance. whats happening.

according to kinzo, beatrices curse (everything she gave kinzo must be returned upon his death? or something?) manifests in the fact that all of his heird are incapable. i somehow think it will manifest in beatrice swallowing the family whole as if they never existed. women be eating.

i fully expect kinzo to die soon and for hell to break lose afterwards. currently the conference has the uncomfortable yet normal vibes of a family meetup but with his inheritance at stake it could get very ugly very soon. its funny genji hasnt come up in related conversations at all. it is not unlikely for him to inherit a lot as a lifelong butler and the only person kinzo tolerates around him.

oh so thats where all that comes from. huh.

"lol" rudolf said, and "git gud"

and i thought it was the witch who was supposed to murder

all siblings seem to be very business savy, safe for rosa perhaps, who openly admits that she still feels like a child. even before that battlers inner monologue informed us that being in adult in the ushiromiya family has little to do with age and all to do with success. indeed, krauss gets accused of embezzlement because there is no other way to explain the source of his funds. the siblings goals in all this seem quite clear for now. krauss needs his father financially to avoid debt and failure. eva sees herself as the most capable of the four, with an intelligent husband, son, and successful enterprise in the background. rudolf wants a piece of the cake. rosa is not yet as financially stable as she would like to be. and natsuhi is caught in the crossfire, with tons of responsibilities but little power, as she is not related by blood. her chronic headaches are probably psychosomatic and/or stress related. her own family, while not clearly explained (yet?) seems to be very unfortunate and this much nobler cutthroat enviroment is destroying her.

the girls are, once again, fighting

natsuhis struggle has much to do with gender. she is related by marriage, left another family, will never be seen as an equal in her new one, and has the expectation of producing a child. it is also mentioned she organizes the private household and family meetings, so she got stuck playing along with her conservative patriarchal wife role. this contrasts eva, who by all means is shown as empowered and ambitious (her husband took her name, she does multiple martial arts). by design those two are to be pit against each other, when they would have had no further beef otherwise.

the core issue seems to be whose child is to continue the main ushiromiya bloodline. their real problem does not lie with each other but with traditional values and expectations towards women. unfortunately being a narrative foil doesnt always mean you get to have gay sex or else we wouldnt be here.

#seagullposting

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

Sorry to drop this to your inbox impromptu i didnt know who else? Would be interested? Esp weeks after the LN finale?

But removal of fundy from las nevadas narrative in the finale made it a simple business arrangment rather than what it was at the ugliest, Which was a political cult

One can argue slime factory is an apparatus of this but the fact Foolish was there because he feared he had no legacy and Fundy was there because he thought no one would mourn him Is just

Gone?

Finale sort of resets him back to the start of Las Nevadas arc, he is in search of assets once again.

All of the sentiment Charlie expressed could also been expressed by Fundy who was lovebombed, reshaped then chained to Las Nevadas by a person he assumed was a friend

And although Qs worldview is chastisized he doesnt. Really get the reprecussions of manipulating people under him. I would describe similar to How Techno had to abandon his chance at a nonviolent life but he didnt suffer in the long run. OF COURSE Q is worse off losing a canon life but he still has Las Nevadas and At Least Foolish if not also Fundy (if he lied to Wil) under his alliance.

These of course could be expanded but the fact finale wouldnt even have fundy speak or regard him as an asset, OR SHOW HORSEMEN is.

Telling.

Don't worry, I love getting long and insightful asks like this :)

This is easily the greatest weakness of the Las Nevadas arc as a whole; while we get some really incredible cinematic moments, not having more "casual" streams in between them means that these movies all feel slightly less than the sum of their parts to different extents. And while Las Nevadas 5 was technically and visually near-pristine, it suffered from this blunting effect more than any other episode. Any character development c!Quackity might have had is hard to gauge for certain, since we've literally seen nothing but a surprised Pikachu face, a handful of apology letters, and a "right, that's over with." Is this new, rebuilt version of Las Nevadas going to be a healthier place? We don't know yet. And though it pains me, we have very little reason to believe so right now.

I haven't gone into it as much as some of my other quibbles, but the lack of spotlight on the other members of the country was another thing I found underwhelming about the finale. Hell, I think the only reference to c!Fundy was a throwaway line about how his gambling addiction alone couldn't fund Las Nevadas's infrastructure, which... hm.

It's especially strange considering that aside from c!Tubbo (who, as much as I would have loved to see him more, could have distanced himself after Ho16), c!Fundy is the only member of Las Nevadas that c!Quackity had a real friendship with prior to this arc. Like you say, he would have been a natural choice to express many of the sentiments that c!Charlie laid out, because he's seen so much of c!Q's behavior play out before - with c!Schlatt, with c!Wilbur, with c!Dream. Perhaps he can't attest to the "become like me!" thing, but that whole "born again" spiel... if he was supposed to be born again, why does he feel like he just replaced nothing with more nothing? It's that "political cult" you talked about, which he was hit by more overtly than anyone else.

A single scene couldn't have completely fixed the emotional disconnect, but here's the proposal I've discussed here time and time again: show us the conversation between c!Quackity and c!Fundy where he leaves Las Nevadas behind. Now, we can place this moment sometime before c!Quackity's second death. Make him confront the reality of his actions and how badly his manipulation has hurt those he enlisted, even someone like c!Fundy, whose recruitment was "just" harsh words mixed with lovebombing. And then, make that near-realization fail, to build tension for the grander takedown later.

The hardest thing to swallow about this potential scene is that on the precipice of his true narrative turning point, c!Quackity would likely need to double down and get vicious. Perhaps he tells c!Fundy everything the poor guy feared hearing; that he would be nothing if he left, that this lack of loyalty is why nobody stays with him, that maybe he truly did make everything he touched worse. Go in hard on the projected self-hatred. But, crucially, c!Quackity cannot deliver on his threat to execute him. And when c!Fundy call his bluff and walks away, he is shaken. He is afraid. He doubts. (And then he rips that doubt apart and goes into the final days of this life with furious abandon.)

This also gives c!Fundy a chance to lash out at an authority figure who, despite their best intentions and big promises, used him for an ego project and then ignored him. He finally gets a moment where he can stand up for himself, only for that moment to leave him worse off than ever before. It offers more context for the dire, suicidal state he was in during Into Pogtopia. And it grants him a well-deserved spotlight, while also underscoring the tragedy of his arc: that no matter how hard he tries, c!Fundy's efforts to make things better are always ignored.

Anyway. This scene is so vivid in my mind, and I will pretend it existed from now on. I'm so sorry to the Mexican Dream and Ranboo shenanigan lovers, but I have my priorities all laid out.

... I really just need to write the dang thing, don't I? Or maybe act it out. Anybody want to RP and film this in Minecraft with me? Anyone at all?

#asks #c!quackity #c!fundy #writing critical #analysis #long post

[icharchivist]

while i like the transcendence fe i agree that i sort of pictured belials development into a resentful pervert to be more gradual. he seemed more subdued in the flashbacks and i thought that he got worse over the 2k years he waited and thats why hes the way he is now. he didnt have anyone to keep him in check and was bored so he became horny. maybe the fe isnt an actual representation and is tinged by lucifer now knowing better or maybe it was a bad first impression and belial calmed down after

!!! yeah thaat's my opinion in general

like, i did like the transcendence FE, it's just really that, i guess, this HC about how Belial came to be this petty was much more interesting to me, and while the scene in itself is fine, i do feel like we're losing a possible really interesting angle that all of the others flashbacks had actually been making possible otherwise.

I definitely had this imagery of him progressively getting worse in worse even in the lab, sometimes slipping like when he talks to Bubs for example, but mostly someone who's acting put together on the surface. And it's not like he wasn't already a menace, we see him tease the hell out of Sandalphon in some flashbacks as well, but he's not so overtly sexual yet... but you can feel his inferiority complex in some of the conversation he has for instance.

But i really liked the idea of it building in and in and in over time, that he swallowed it back to try to be reasonable in his own way, and then once Lucifer officially betrayed Lucilius, he just, got a hundred time worse.

I also always felt, esp while listening to Parade's Lust, that the hypersexuality did come from the fact he was not loved back by the person he loved, so he convinced himself he would be content with physical releases, if only also to deal with the fact he's touch starved... and for me this is something that would be impactful if it built up with time rather than something that's here from birth like the Fe implies.

I also really liked this idea of how Belial considers himself doomed by his own purpose, deprived of free will, but when you look, all of those things where he reinforced his purposes were all his own choices. And i feel like the reading of "the hypersexuality came with time" kinda follows this idea because maybe the love and devotion were here from the start, but him becoming worse in worse when he's denied the love he's craving becomes a choice he consciously makes to continue down this path even though it's hurting him. But with the transcendance FE kinda implying it was always there actually, it does give him a more "doomed from the start" idea but less agency in a sort?

and again, i do like the transcendance FE, and for instance i'm thrilled to learn Belial was born first, but there's a lot of implications that were present in every others flashbacks that i really liked and thought added a lot of depth to his character that kinda fall flat with the whole "he was like that from the start actually", so it's a bit of a bummer.

But maybe yeah, like you said, maybe it's kind of the way Lucifer remembers it now with his own colored glasses, or the fact that Belial perhaps overcompensated at birth because of the spur of jealousy for Lucifer upon meeting him knowing Lucilius cared for him more, before calming down when they actually became close (it's Belial's quest i think? that still showcase that Belial did have a time where he was close to Lucifer regardless, and it's only when new Primarches came to be born and they had to respect Lucifer and Belial had to set the example that a major distance they never recovered from happened again.) And this time, therefore, because they had the time to become close, Belial could have became a new person upon spending time with and liking Lucifer, and this more sudden reminder that they're never going to be seen as equal by Lucilius twisted Belial again, not quite directly to how he was at birth, but mixed with his new experience as well.

But i guess it's just, mostly bitter to me because yeah the last addition to the whole Belial characterization is his birth by now, and for now i do feel like it doesn't mesh that well with the others flashbacks we had... like there's a missing piece between his behavior around their birth and his behavior in the Belial's quest FE where him and Lucifer are the only two angels and are equals in every way that matters.

... so i guess what i mean is, hopefully Belial's transcendance itself might fill this gap in a satisfying way?

but yeah, i'm not going to say it's bad writing or anything like that, probably i just let my headcanons really run wild, but :pensive: i just like when Belial has agency in his own downfall.

#ichareply #anonymous #ichafantalks gbf #ichablogging wmtsb

[obsessive-ego]

Sneaky but not really

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Beetlejuice first sleepover with you

Soft, lewd jokes warning, sort of, you know how bj is

Love at first strike was the perfect way to describe your relationship, well at least to beetlejuice. After a scare gone wrong the ghoul was head over heals for you, long story short you were Delia's niece, after a few moments upon meeting lydia, the kid tricked and locked you in the basement, where said ghoul was waiting to 'introduce' himself to you. When he jumped out from the darkness you reacted poorly and sucker punched him in the jaw, with a hard thump the demon hits the floor, of course you felt awful about the whole thing, hitting someone you didnt even know, but as you went to help the poor man up his only response was "damn sugar, hit me again".

The rest was history, you visited lydia and beetlejuice like clockwork, you enjoyed them both, having a similar sense of humor really helped, hell you even joined in on Beetlejuice's lewd humor when lydia was out of ear shot, the ghoul adored this, you were perfect for him, funny and had the balls big enough to hit him, no one's ever done that before.

...

"Please please please, come on baby, dont you trust me?~" beetlejuice pleaded clinging to your leg like a child

"Beej, no, it's not that I dont trust you its just-" you trail off glancing to lydia for some help, the kid just stifles a laugh at you.

"What's wrong y/n? He'd be the perfect little house guest, you live alone right? What's the issue?" She shrugs

You sigh, beetlejuice has been begging you forever to let him sleepover and looks like he roped lydia into it, or she just thought it was funny to watch you flail.

"Come on babes, itll be great, we'll watch movies, order take out, suck face-"

"What?"

"Nothing"

You scowl, and pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath, then a long sigh

"Fine"

The weight from you leg was lifted in a flash and the ghoul was right in your face "REALLY?! Great choice, you are never gonna regret this sweet stuff" the ghouls cups your face and gives you a quick kiss before disappearing leaving you dazed and confused, what have you done.

...

As you walked home you couldnt help bit feel dread creeping up on you, hoping you never reach your destination, it's not like you didnt want beetlejuice to come to your little home, it's more of you were nervous being alone with the demon in such a personal space, you liked him yeah, more then you're will to admit, this whole 'sleepover' is gonna be more then awkward. The dread sinks in when you stand infront if your little apartment building, you sigh and head inside, at your door your hands tremble with the keys, your nerves reaching new heights, you wanted to vomit, you wanted this whole thing to be done and over, stupid undead bastard who wormed his way into your heart.

Home sweet home, you toss your belongings aside and shamble your way to the living room, plopping down on the couch you swallow hard, as the conversation you and beej had before leaving the Deetz house flood back into your mind

'Now all you gotta do to get me into your little home is say my name 3 times, 3 times in a row spoken, unbroken, okay? I'll be waiting sugar~"

You knew he was teasing you, the ghoul could probably tell how the whole pet name thing effected you, since no ones ever done that to you before. Taking a deep breath of air and jumping up from the couch you decided it's now or never, and you knew if you didnt summon him he'll be twice as annoying the next time you saw him.

"BEETLEJUICE"

You could feel the air get heavier

"BEETLEJUICE"

The temperature around your body drops, you take a deep breath trying to steady yourself

"Beetlejuice" you clamp your eyes shut, not really sure what's gonna happen next, since you weren't exactly told much past the whole how to thing.

"Its showtime~" a gravely voice purrs in your ear and you nearly jump out of your skin, you curse and turn to the culprit, beetlejuice, he was here, it was really that simple.

"You came-" you stutter in disbelief

"Oh doll, your sweet voice would make anyone cum as fast as I did~" the ghoul coos as he cups your face, you flinch at the joke, yes you sure walked into it, giving the demon a perfect set up, beetlejuice howls with laughter at your reaction.

"Babes you make this too easy, but ya know I like easy gals" he gives you a wink followed by a loud cackle.

You regain your composure and clear your throat "well this is it, my home" you give a half hearted gesture, the ghoul whistles in response as if he was impressed by your little home.

"So babes, how bout you show old mr beebleboose where the magic happens~" the demon coos wiggling his eyebrows, you couldnt help but snort a laugh, as you give the demon a soft shove.

"All right sugar, what's the plan tonight? Shitty horror? Take out? Tonsil hockey?" Tips of pink gracing the demons hair as he purrs that last part.

Again a you snort out a laugh "2 out of 3 there beej"

"Sucking face while watching bad movies? You really know how to spoil a ghost" beetlejuice cackles, leaning in close as he makes kissing sounds.

You push the ghoul off, as you chuckle, embarrassed, yet amused at your pal's constant jokes.

You pull out your phone to order a pizza for the two of you, you knew the demon can and will eat anything so you knew he wouldnt really care WHAT you ordered. Beetlejuice perks up at your actions, he wasnt a fan of cell phones, he hated when your attention wasnt fully on him, but after some trial and error he learned to adapt to subtlety messing with you in that state of distraction.

The ghoul places his arm around you shoulder and leans in to you, watching you tap away on your phone, he never really got the whole technical thing, the ghoul was more into making you nervous, in his current position, pressed up against you, he could feel your warmth, he could hear your heart pounding, and he could see your fingers fumble as you try to type, the ghoul huffs out a small chuckle when he sees you puff out your cheeks as you try to focus and steady your hands to finish what you were doing.

...

The two of you chatted and joked about as beetlejuice told you stories of scares he pulled off with lydia, he was practically glowing green with excitement as he told you in great detailed of how amazing and scary he was and how you need to see him in action more often, the demons mood was contagious you couldnt help but laugh and hang on practically every word. The two of you are interrupted with a knock on your door,

You get up from the couch without much thought, beetlejuice jumps up quickly after you, and pulls you to the front door, you make a noise of surprise at the sudden action.

"Watch and be amazed sweet stuff, its show time" the ghoul swings open the door to see the delivery guy.

"Pizza for l/n"

"Thanks man" the ghoul takes the pizza and hands it to you.

"Oh! Babes what did you order anyway?" The ghoul asks before snapping his fingers, a familiar tingle goes through your body, you go stiff as beetlejuice puppets your words

"Oh you know honey, the usual, pepperoni, bacon, and tarantulas" you say in a cheery tone.

"Tarantulas?" The delivery guys asks

"You never tried one? They crunch real nice" the ghoul goes to pull out a live rather large tarantula from his coat pocket, you flinch at the sight, not being a fan of bugs. Beetlejuice, without hesitation drops the spider into his mouth, the crunching noise alone made the colour drain from your face, but your reaction was nothing in comparison to pizza guy. The poor guy looked like he was gonna vomit, frozen in place with the scene in front of him.

"Where are my manners? Want one?" Beetlejuice leans forward into his victim dangling a new larger tarantula in the poor man's face.

"Open wide~" he coos

At that The pizza guy's legs finally give out, causing him to drop to his ass, the man screams and scrambles to his feet, stumbling and fumbling all the while getting away from your home.

"Such a beautiful sound~" beetlejuice sighs, as he slides the spider into his coat pocket "save him for later" he mumbles before turning to you

"So? How was I sugar?" The ghoul was beaming at you with a big toothy grin, desperate for your approval.

You snort out a hard laugh "you're disgusting beej, amazingly disgusting" you cackle

The ghoul bows at your praise "thank you doll, you are too kind~"

God did beetlejuice live for your praise, the attention you gave him, he wanted you so badly, he wanted you to say 'beetlejuice, I see you, I accept you, I fear for my safety around you'. But you were dense and a coward, and he sure as hell didnt want to make the first move, so this, this was fine for now, you praising him and spending time with him, will just have to do until you proclaim your undying love for him.

..

The two of you hang out on the couch, you in your pajamas, beetlejuice leaning into you with an arm around you, you never really fought this, beej was the touchy feely type and he claims how he just likes how warm you are, so you just went with it. As your movie marathon runs late you begin to nod off, you finally commit to bed time when you nudge Beetlejuice's arm off and stand up, the ghoul makes a noise of annoyance at your absence.

"I'm going to bed" you yawn out "night beej" you wave goodnight before heading to you room, the ghoul growls at this, he didnt really want to stop hanging out with you, but unfortunately breather need sleep, the demon flows you to your room.

As you climb into bed beetlejuice phases through the bedroom door

"Oh no!" His voice alerts you to his presence

"Theres only one bed" he continues in a false worried tone, you know your brows together

"Beetlejuice I can make up the couch for you if you like, I know you dont sleep-"

"OH NO THERE'S ONLY ONE BED AND ITS A SINGLE" he repeats as if a louder volume will change anything.

"Bee-"

"I guess we'll just have to share y/n, please be gentle with me~" the demon coos as he slumps onto the bed

You give him a soft smile at this awful little show, but as nice and warm as the idea of sharing your bed with him would make you feel, you weren't exactly ready to agree to that, anxiety and nerves beat away any romantic thought.

"Beej, come on-"

"Cum on what?"

You snort out a soft laugh, you always walked into a set up for him without a second thought.

"Beetlejuice, no offense, but I dont feel comfortable with that, you know, sharing a bed with you, I mean, like, you know" your voice shrank as you spoke, you didnt want to sound rude, not that hed ever mind, the ghoul sits up and stares back at you with a wide toothy grin.

"I getcha sweets, not till marriage, right? You never struck me as the old fashioned type, but I can wait till we tie the knot~" he winks that last part, you can feel you ears burn with embarrassment, all of his flirting jokes did make you blush, but the marriage jokes were the big guns, you adored the demon, and the idea of being married to him made your heart want to rip it's way out of your chest.

Without another word beetlejuice vanishes before your eyes, and a soft "goodnight" is whispered in you ear, causing you to shiver.

...

Finally after all that time begging you finally let beetlejuice into your home, just you and him, such a high level of trust you have in him, the ghoul himself is filled with delight at the thought, here he was floating next to your bed, watching you slept so peacefully, completely unaware of the dead man watching you.

"Ya know sweet stuff, you look real cute when you sleep~" he purrs, pink hue gracing his hair in streaks.

It goes without saying the demon was a creep, so it was no surprise he would watch you sleep. The ghoul stares at you for hours, taking in all the little things about you, the little things of being alive, how your chest slowly moved up and down as you slept, how you're lips were slightly parted, those sweet little sounds you'd make during your slumber.

As the time went by the ghoul's mind began to wander.

"Bet it's real warm under those covers huh?" He mused

"Y/n is such an oblivious little breather, they probably wouldnt even notice little old me sliding in next to that soft, warm, body of theirs" he whispered to himself, the thought alone of pressing himself up against your warm body was enough to get the demon drooling.

That was all the convincing he needed, slip in to cuddle for a bit, then slip out before you wake, easy.

With a snap of his fingers the ghoul's trade mark striped suit disappears leaving him in a pair of striped boxers, with another snap beetlejuice reappears next to you in bed, the wave of warm washing over him was delightful, so toasty warm, so soft and comfy, he could get used to this, with a soft sigh the ghoul cuddled up to you, without a second thought he gets carried away, wrapping him arms around your body, you respond with some unintelligible noise as the demon pulls you into him.

Beetlejuice, now completely pink, gives your forehead a kiss before whispering a soft

"goodnight y/n"

This was heaven, or as close as a born dead demon straight from hell was gonna get at least, everything felt so good, your soft body in his arms, your warmth, your scent, your soft comfy bed, he could really get used to this. Beetlejuice didnt have to sleep, but did to pass the time when bored, but tonight he fell asleep for a more soft reason, yes the ghoul has had more flings and one night stands then he could remember, but this, he never spent the night in another's arms, someone who genuinely liked him and wanted him around, the ghoul couldnt help but doze off with this level of comfort, as cheesy as it sounded, it was true.

...

Unfortunately him dozing off was a less then great idea, beetlejuice was a heavy sleeper, more so then you were.

"BEETLEJUICE!"

The ghoul shoots up at your rather loud call, beetlejuice looks up at you to see a rather embarrassed, confused you, clenching the blanket to your chest, though you were full clothed.

"Morning sweetheart, you sleep well in daddy's arms?" He purrs, busted the demon Hope's to flirt his way out of getting trouble.

"What are you doing?!" Your voice trembles as you're pretty sure the ghoul can hear your heart pounding like a jackhammer.

"I couldnt help myself it's so chilly at night, and you're so warm" the ghoul shrugs "Oh! Right I forgot my little y/n is an old fashioned little breather, guess we gotta get hitched now huh?" The ghoul winks at you.

You felt like your heart was gonna explode, you just woke up and he's pulling this? Honestly part of you wasnt surprised he'd worm his way into your bed, and tease the hell out of you, then it hits you. You stare at the ghoul, his torso exposed, completely bare, revealing a rather hairy, scared up upper half, while his waist was hidden below the covers.

"Beetlejuice, please, please tell me you're wearing something below the waist" you turn your head away not wanting to look at him, you knew beej is a creepy pervert, but he wouldnt sneak into your bed completely naked, would he?

Beetlejuice let's out his awful cackle, causing you to flinch.

"Babes do you really think, I'd slip in next to you in bed balls out? Please, I am a perfect gentleman, I already vowed to marry you after I slept with you" he snorts out a laugh.

You return your gaze to the ghoul to see he has removed the covers to reveal a pair of boxers resembling his suit. You sigh in relief, the demon only smirks at your reaction.

"Like what you see?~" he wiggles his eyebrows and bites his lip while giving his hips a quick jerk upwards.

"Beej please, i guess it's fine if you want to sleep with me, as long as you're respectful, I mean you're gonna do it anyways so" you trail off clearly embarrassed at his lewd motions, but finding it easier to ignore them and continue on with what had transpired.

"Whoa, you mean it?" The ghoul sits up, wide eyed and pink at your words

"Yes, as long as you're not gonna be gross about it- FUCK"

Beetlejuice lunges at you, pulling you into a tight hug, this was all too much for first thing in the morning, yes it felt nice to be held, but youd be lying if waking up next to beetlejuice didnt scare the shit out of you, but sleeping together, as warm as it made you feel, its gonna take some getting used too.

"How bout we get some coffee?" You ask timidly.

Beetlejuice pulls away, a big dopey grin plastered across his face, patches of pink slowly taking over his scratchy facial hair.

"You read my mind doll".

One of these days, you should really ask him what pink ment for him, maybe comfort? Really happy? Who knows

Bonus

After a rather embarrassing morning for you, the two of you make your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Beetlejuice didnt exactly drink coffee, just really milk and sugar with coffee in it, not that you minded

The two of you sat in silence at your little kitchen table, you scrolled through your phone checking weather and other nonsense as you take a sip of your coffee the ghoul cuts the silence

"You think Adam will be my best man at our wedding?"

You nearly choke on your drink.

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader #rambling

[cocosstories]

Pete Davidson One Shot

Can you do one where reader & Pete are friends and he realizes/tells her he has feelings for her?

'Hey dumbass, open the door'

You text your friend Pete as you wait for him to finally let you in.

"Fucking finally, its freezing out here!"

Pushing past him, you run to his closet to grab a sweater and throw it on quickly.

"Sorry, I was in the shower, I didnt hear you."

He throws on some clothes, tossing his towel in the hamper.

"Well, at least you finally showered."

You joked as you headed out to the couch, turning on the T.V.

"Haha you're hilarious. What do you want to do tonight?

He asks sitting down next to you.

"I don't know, pizza and a movie?"

The offer was really a formality since it was what the two of you did pretty much anytime you came over.

You and Pete had met more than a year ago at an SNL after party and hit it off almost immediately, bonding over your shared social awkwardness and hatred of big crowds.

Since that night, you have been hanging out a few times a week and have gotten pretty comfortable around each other.

So much so that you stayed at his place more often than not. The first few times, he gave up his bed, crashing on the couch beforw you finally conviced him that the two of you could share and it not be a problem.

It was a problem though.

He wasnt sure when it had happend but sometime over the last year, Pete had developed feelings for you.

You had no idea of course, whether it be because he was really good at hididng it or you were just that oblivious.

"I don't want to watch horror Pete. You know i hate those kind of movies."

He had picked out 'Us' for the two of you to watch.

"Pussy."

You smack his arm.

"Bitch."

"Come on Y/N, I'll protect you. Please."

He gives you his best pouting face and you sigh, giving in at the sight of it.

Soon, the pizza had shown up and Pete had started the movie, you cuddled up to his side from the start, burying your face in his chest at the scary parts.

"Are you ok?"

You look up at him, pausing the movie.

"Uh, yeah why?"

"Your heart is pounding."

Pete swallows hard and gets up.

"It's nothing. Just the movie."

He heads to the kitchen and you follow him.

"Bullshit. You love these movies. Whats really going on?"

Pete grabs a water from the fridge and chugs it, facing the sink.

"Pete?"

You stand behind him with your arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

Pete turns back towards you, not thinking when he easily pulls you to him, placing a kiss on your lips.

You pull back, shocked as to what just happened.

"I-I'm sorry."

"What just happened? Pete..."

You trail off watching his face as you put together exactly what is going on.

"I have feelings for you, Y/N."

He looks away from you as he speaks, unsure of how you will react.

"How long?"

The truth was, you had been attracted to Pete since you met, you just didn't know how to tell him.

"I don't know, it just sort of happened."

Now it was your heart that was pounding.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You move closer, still not touching him.

"I didn't think I was good enough for you. I have all of these issues, you don't need that shit in your life."

This time, you take his hand in yours.

" Shouldn't that be my choice?"

Pete looks up from the ground and into your eyes.

"Pete, I've liked you since we met."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips are on yours again, kissing you deeper than before.

You kiss him back, finally able to give into the urges you had been feeling everytime you were around him. 

#Pete Davidson One Shot #Pete Davidson x reader #Pete Davidson #Cocos stories

[rotzaprachim]

be gentle with the people who were not made from The Fall

- Gen, Declan Lynch &  Mór Ó Corra

2k ao3 here

She passed Declan a blank manilla envelope. He ran his fingers gingerly over the edges, life having long ago built up a healthy suspicion of anything from the channels of the Fairy Market. He couldn’t feel anything, but he’d also never had the touch for it. At some point he’d always ended up having to hold his breath and jump in in order to get the rough work done. 

He slit it open with the knife in his pocket.  

There were answers he’d had before he even knew what the questions were. Firstborn, Niall told Declan. My All-American son, Niall told Declan. When you were born the rivers dried up and all the cows in Rockingham County cried blood, Niall told Ronan. When you were born, I wasn’t here, Niall told Declan. 

The silence swallowed his voice for a long time. 

“Ó Corra?” 

She gave him a look that said, you can’t pronounce your own name. Finally she said, “You have my name. It’s what they did when the father couldn’t be found.” 

He studied the certificate in the small crescents of yellow light that bounced in through the tinted windows of her sports car from the streetlight outside. The Births and Deaths Registation (Northern Ireland) Order 1976, Article 34. Registered in the District of Belfast. 24 July 1997. Declan James Ó Corra.

There was a box that asked for Name and Surname and Dwelling Place of Father (6). It was blank. There was another box that asked for Rank or Profession of Father. On that one, someone had gona back with a red pen at some later point, scrawled angrily, messily, bleeding jaggedly out from the neat black boxes, GONE. 

It made sense, in a strange sort of way that Declan’s brain dimly seemed to recognise in the same way that the drowning man thinks the sun streaming through the surface looks quite nice even when he’s being pulled under. Niall Lynch’s sons. The dreamer son of a dream and the dream of the dreamer the son of a dream. And here now was the odd one out, the liar the son of a lie. 

“I was two years younger than you.” The woman finally said. He couldn’t think of her as anything other than the vague idea digging at the back of his eye turned hard, angry secret when he started to shift through his father’s boxes of crap after death. He’d left a fuckton of a lot of loose threads, although Declan hadn’t thought he’d be one of them. Letters and phone bills from a far-away woman, even a photo or two, all the vitriol and anger he’d carried around bubbling up again acridly through a mirror. Collected in an old file box next to IOU’s and pay me bastard or i’ll fuck you ups in seven different languages, three of which Niall didn’t know how to read. Collected, and never returned. Even some photos of him as a kiddo in a tiny knit sweater. 

“No explanations.” Declan finally said. His voice sounded like when he’d had the lights punched out of him by one of the goons his dad owed rubles, or rupees, or riyals, in the parking lot of a Fairy Market. It could have been all three. “You don’t have to give me one.” I don’t know if I want one, he didn’t say. 

“I’m a very dangerous woman to find, Declan. You wouldn’t have found me if you hadn’t been looking.” 

He didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted safety, although he’d ruled out that as a possibility years ago. He wanted the ones the world had left him to care for to be safe, and he’d jeapordised all that on a wild goose chase to find the woman in one of his father’s fucking dream objects on a hunch of a hunch. He’d done exactly what he’d warned Ronan not to do, relied on himself to be smarter, sharper, more careful. All attributes hard won on his own,  like learning from imitation from a mirror. You see what this who looks like you does? Now do the opposite. 

He sighed. The air bristled, and he realised he sounded a lot like Mór Ó Corra.

“Maybe I-” 

Maybe he hadn’t been angry, almost, to find out. Maybe he’d almost been relieved. A voice to his darkest thoughts saying, you did not dream this up. The part of himself that’d been forced through seven years of Catholic school and then forced himself through a few months of therapy where he couldn’t tell the therapist about any of the things that had most profoundly fucked him up said a good man should have loved any child, regardless. He was about fifteen years past thinking Niall to be a good man. 

“Maybe I spent so many years dealing with all the fucking dreaming, the dreamers and the dreams and every fucking thing that’s come to kill us because Dad couldn’t fix any of his own shit and the fact that none, none of it was ever part of me that I thought I wanted some kind of fucking explanation for it all. I wanted some- some explanation for it all. Why I was different. WHy dad- … WHy dad. I wanted some part of a past that was mine.” Selfish, maybe. Learned. If you spent a lifetime you were different from other people, eventually you came to a wanting a reason for them to be different from you. 

“And you think I’m going to be the dear old Mam who darns your socks and calls to remind you to bring a good girl home to the family?” 

“No. I didn’t ask for that. You know what I asked for.” 

The second Manilla envelope she gave him was far thicker. This time, he could feel the slightest trace of- something. Not a buzzing, not a mist, a- something. He slid it into his briefcase. No expectations. Nothing more. A deal that was a deal, only a birth certificate instead of a handshake. 

“I was two years younger than you. Sometimes life doesn’t hand you many choices. I’d say you didn’t understand, and you don’t, but I’ll also say you’ve been a hell of a lot more of a father than Niall ever was. All the more so since the world’s made you be one.” 

Niall was drunk off some kind of spiked slivovitz when he’d come round to it the first time. Retrospectively, he was probably scared shitless, and rightly so. “Anything happens,” he’d slurred into the hotel couch. “You’re the man of the house. Take ��em to church. Make ‘em proper. Make ‘em fear God. There’s money in the bank, anything happens.” And Declan had almost said, you know it’s my number Matthew’s school’s had down on the books for a year now? You know the priest there already thinks we’re orphans? 

“You’ve got a number and an adress. You’re a smart boy. You know if you use it my women’ll kill you just as likely as the dreamkillers.” 

“Everything has a price. At least you’re up front on it.” 

“I’m not a good woman, Declan. Don’t make your father’s mistake. Don’t dream me into being one.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

--- 

He didn’t open the package until he’d driven two hours, switched lisence plates and then cars, moved a state line, and walked two miles out to a sublet Jordan knew from a friend of a friend of an enemy in the art underground, where two dreams were now. It came with two dozen forged Miró’s in the living room, all done with a variety of blue paint with a distinctly incriminating synthetic binding agent manufactured solely post 1986, and even in the palest strands of morning light it made the living room into a riot of psychedelic stick-figure Catalan sunshine. He opened the door carefully, walked gingerly past the still-sleeping Matthew, TV still flickering from where he’d probably been watching it far later than Declan would have let him. Flicked the kitchen light on and made himself a cup of instant coffee, and more than anything else resisted the urge to upstairs and collapse next to Jordan in the bed that was for the moment theirs and sleep till noon. But if there was a lesson he’d learned by know it was that he couldn’t do any of the things he wanted to in life. So he downed the shitty instant coffee and he opened Mór Ó Corra’s folder and he got to work. You do what you gotta do for your family, Niall had told him. A deal had gone south and they’d made it out with their lives and stacks of money shoved in their pockets. One day you’ll have yourself a wife and some kids and then you’ll know. And he’d swallowed what he now knew was his rage. 

     “Ready to make a deal with the devil?” The voice on the other end of the number had said when he’d dialed it, and he said, only the devil can help me now, and he’d been right. No one with their head above the water could know the things he wanted to know about the Moderators. I have two dreamers and two dreams to keep out of the reach of a shadowy intergovernmental agency who’s whole M.O is about killing every dreamer they can find to stop the end of the world. Only a shadow knows its kind. And for her part, Mór Ó Corra had been thorough. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust her and he didn’t even know if he trusted the birth certificate. When you were the lying son of a lie, another one would be more natural than anything. He wouldn’t act on any of her information until he could put some feelers out, a few red herrings, get ahold of some of Nialls’ other bullshit to run cross checks. It was a start. At some he’d always ended up having to hold his breath and jump in in order to get the rough work done. At some point, he’d always just been shoved in. 

He didnt’ realise he’d fallen asleep until he was woken up. By Matthew, prodding his neck with the tines of a fork. 

“You said to wake you up if you slept past noon.” Jordan set down a massive plate of something exactly an inch from his eardrum with a loud clatter. 

“It’s 12:02,” Matthew added generously. 

He looked down. He hadn’t gotten through the pile. There was still more- 

Jordan’s eyes flicked notably towards the floor tiles. Declan followed them. In his early morning haze he’d somehow missed a second, smaller envelope within the envelope. He slipped it into his jacket before Matthew could see. He slid all of the papers back into the envelope before Matthew could see more. 

“Two whole extra minutes? Well, that’s where’s where the rest of my day went.” 

“You looked like you needed it. Like, you definitely looked like you needed it.” She handed him the day’s second mug of instant coffee and it hit him again that he loved her a not, which would have felt all new and electric even in circumstances that were not the current ones and when and if this was all over with hopefully no more deaths she deserved a really really nice vacation to somewhere sunny. Which he would not promise until he knew he could actually pull it off, because Declan Lynch was a liar but he was not a man who broke promises. 

  He didn’t open up the other envelope until he was in the bathroom with the door firmly locked. Magical all female mafias ran on the power of the sticky stuff at the top of a Manilla envelope, apparently. Only a few sheets inside. A surprisingly blurry print-out map with a building circled, a clipping from the Belfast Telegraph about the NHS’s most recent warnings on the loneliness epidemic among young adults and seniors, and new local projects for seniors to form new connections through knitting circles, classes in French and Irish, and mentorship opportunities with Sixth-Form students. “Former school teacher Anne  Ó Corra recounts feelings of isolation after the untimely death of her only daughter in 1999. She says that mentorship opportunities with Saint Mary’s Compre-” Declan scanned the article. On the back the same hand that had scrawled, GONE, wrote, THink the old bat’d be happy to see you. 

#my writings #call down the hawk #declan lynch #Mór Ó Corra #the dreamer trilogy #the raven cycle #the raven cycle fic #i don't remember a lot of hte details of TRC so if there's issues- please let me know! with canon or whatnot #also some of these details are based on a real birth certificate i found to copy the details off from belfast but it was from the 70's

[lununnunna]

Waterworks || Dabi x Reader

angst in which you dont realize dabi physically cannot cry bc his mf tearducts out here like *burnt*

(again idk how 2 shorten my posts :( so apologies in advance) ((also couldnt stop thinking abt how dabi fr out here like ugly crying wo the tears i had an itch to write the angst))

part two

most times it made you lovingly roll your eyes. other times it made you laugh. but lately, dabis nonchalant and rather apathetic demeanor was weighing on you.

youve yet to see him cry, even when you two have your arguments and little bicker-fests, as any normal couple has. hes never cried, only yelled, or flashed bitter smiles and dark laughs. it unsettled you. hes never once shed a single tear, not even for your sake.

you began to question if he really loved you as much as you did, him.

surely if he loved you, he would cry in relief for your safety, or in sympathy for something that upset you, right?

you ultimately supposed he wouldnt really be one to cry to begin with, but what of that time you were followed home and nearly kidnapped? assaulted? he had merely burned them to ash for you, and carried you inside as you sobbed into his shoulder. he hadnt even done so much as comment; no whispers of relief, no ‘i love you’s, nothing to show you he was glad you were okay save for the kisses to your head and rubs on your back until you fell asleep. at the time, you felt he was focused on consoling you, and assumed he just didnt want you to know he was worried.

but now, you wondered if he even really cared.

a part of you told you you were being ridiculous, that he had to care if he was still with you, to bother saving you to begin with— but the hurt in your heart and concern in your head spoke louder, and drowned out any reason.

and so, here you found yourself, anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach and rising like bile into your throat. you had confronted him on the matter, only to be brushed off, irritating you until it had led to another petty argument.

you swallowed.

you wanted the truth, and you wanted it bad. you desperately needed to know what you truly meant to him. surely, if he cared, this would stir him, right? this would have to invoke some sort of feeling in him, right?

tears stinging your eyes, throat tightening and suddenly feeling dryer than the sahara desert, you spoke, voice trembling.

“i.. im leaving.”

he fixed you with his sharp, icy gaze.

“what?” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

“i said im leaving. we’re— we’re over. we should break up.”

you watched his reaction carefully, watching the way the muscles in his jaw flexed and tightened, before relaxing and a low chuckle escaped from the back of his throat. he ran a hand through his hair, scoffing.

he glanced over to you once more.

“you dont mean that, doll. look, lets just put this behind us. you know i love you, so give it a rest, yeah? lets just watch a movie.”

you could hear the irritation threatening to leak into his voice. your brows furrowed into a frown.

“do i? do i know you love me? because from where im standing, im not feeling it. i meant what i said. i think itd be for the best if we at least took a break.”

he was silent after that. you could see the anger brewing behind those oceanic eyes you fell in love with, staring at you, trying to read you, as if he thought if he stared long enough, hed be able to see and understand what you were thinking; feeling, and why.

you trembled. you wouldnt be able to hold back the tears much longer.

you took a deep, shaky breath.

“goodbye, dabi.”

he didnt say anything. he didnt say anything as you walked away, slipping on your shoes at the door. he only watched, frozen in place, mind racing with a million thoughts at once. dont forget your coat, he wanted to say. its cold out. its dark. stay safe, baby. call me the moment you feel scared or threatened.

but his body wouldnt respond. he felt numb, watching your retreating figure slip behind the door, the soft click of the doorknob suddenly sounding so much louder in his head.

he was trembling violently, anger and despair crashing over him in suffocating waves.

everything felt so fucking surreal. he felt like it was a dream, it wasnt real, you were only kidding, you were only testing him, you didnt mean it, youd be back tomorrow, kissing him and hugging him and gracing him with your sweet voice talking about anything and everything and nothing in particular.

but he knew.

he knew it wasnt a joke. it was real. you were gone, and he didnt stop you.

and that pissed him off to all fucking hell.

he snapped, letting out a scream of rage, bellowing into the empty apartment, knees buckling under the weight of his broken heart. fists and fire met anything he could come into contact to, wrecking the living room as his screams and shouts tore through his throat, desperate to be heard.

he wanted to cry. he wanted to cry, to chase after you, to wrap you in his arms and kiss you like there would be no tomorrow. he hated himself.

he fucking hated himself.

he wanted to burn the entire building down in his rage and sorrow, to burn the entire world so youd have no choice but to run to him. but he knew that was wrong. he couldnt control you— if you didnt want to be with him anymore, who was he to stop you? he doesnt want to be with him either.

yet here he is, all alone, caving, curling into himself as he dropped to the ground, the apartment thoroughly wrecked. stuck with nobody but himself and his overwhelming devastation. his face twisted in what could only be described as pain, scrunching and folding in on itself. he was bleeding. he must have popped a staple when he was screaming, but he didnt care, not even as they pulled and tugged ever so painfully as he choked on another shout of anguish.

there he sat, a pathetic being in the middle of the life he made for himself.

there he sat, sobbing tearlessly as the boy who couldnt cry.

#bnha #mha #dabi #luna writes #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #dabi x reader #touya x reader #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #touya #dabi is a todoroki theory #angst #dabi angst #can we get an f in chat LMAO #my poor baby #oh yeah my tags #hes my second husband #so uhh #husband number two #boom #thas mah tag #man i hope i did this justice bc like #i wanna make u cry #bc i was over here crying thinking abt it #like bro #f to dabi #he luvs u he promises 🥺 #just cant cry for u 🤧 #lunas husbands

[sweetiejunie]

Don’t mind me

Summary: annoyed, you wanted to get back at him

Genre: smut

Yeonjun x reader

=====================================

There he went again, screaming and laughing into the mic at some of his friend while they played, what you now know to be labeled as, an fps game. Sometimes you felt bad for his mic, having no escape from the torture, but at the same time, neither did you.

His computer was located a mere wall away from your shared bedroom, in the echoey living room of your home. On nights where he wanted to stay up playing games, you would head to bed first, neither of you seemed to mind really. Eventually, someways throught the night, you would hear the door creak open and a pair of arms would wrap around you.

It was currently 4am when you had once again woke up to the noise of your boyfriend hysterically laughing and swearing at his teammates when ‘did something stupid’ as he would put it. You never understood what could possible get him so riled up about a game.

This wasn’t the first time yeonjun has woken you up with one of his antics. It’s happened many nights before but every time you tried to talk to him about it, he would apologise and immediately forget what you had just agreed on.

Tonight, however, you weren’t having it anymore. You decided to do something about it, something more than just using words or having a chat with him. You wanted to mess with him... i guess you could say you wanted to fuck with him, both literally and metaphorically.

Wearing an oversized tshirt that belonged to yeonjun, you stepped out of the bedroom. The moment you opened the door, his voice was even more amplified, the only barrier left between you and him now removed. As much as you loved him, you hated him for interrupting your sleep.

Entering the dark living room, you spotted him at his usual corner, next to the TV, facing the windows. You walked up behind him and placed your hands on his, so very broad, shoulders gently massaging them as you wanted to first make your presence known.

He was only dressed in a simple tank top and sweatpants, yet he still managed to pull it off, looking absolutely amazing.

“Oh hey love. Sorry, did i wake you?” He asked, muting his mic and removing his headphone. He tilted his head up to look at you.

His skin glowed a tint of blue as mixture of moonlight and light emulating from the monitor screen reflected off him. As ethereal as he may have looked at that moment, you had to remind yourself you supposed to be mad at him.

“No it’s alright. Dont mind me, continue your game, i just wanted to watch you play for a while,” you said, in a sort of passive agressive manner.

You didn’t want to tell yeonjun your actual motive for coming out here, and you highly doubted he wanted to know either.

Turning back to his game, he unmuted himself and spoke with his teammates again. You took this opportunity to begin placing kisses along his neck.

“Y/n what are you-”

“Shh,” you placed a finger on his lips. Holding back a smirk, you continued, “like i said, dont mind me and continue your game. I’d like to play a game of my own, and the only rule is that you’re not allowed to mute yourself anymore.”

He looked at you in confusion. ‘Yeonjun where are you?’ You heard one of his teammates ask through his headsets.

“Your friends are looking for you babe, it’s rude to keep them waiting,” you said with a pout, showing yeonjun you were ‘innocent’.

Having no choice, he put on his headphones and returned his attention to the game. “Yeah I’m here, sorry. I just got a little distracted by something.”

You continued your actions, littering kisses along his neck, jawline and anywhere else you could reach from that angle. You smirked as you heard yeonjun try to swallow a lump that had formed in his throat.

Moving one side of his headset to the back of his ear, you leaned in. “Gosh babe, you look so hot in tank tops, you should wear them more often,” you said breathily, just loud enough for him to hear, making sure his mic couldn’t.

Running your hands up and down his bare biceps, you laughed as yeonjun pressed his lips together, afraid of replying you, afraid of what the mic would pick up.

Grabbing one of his hands, you lifted his arm up and slid between him and the table, straddling him. You placed his hand back where you picked it up and rested your arms on his shoulders. You watched as his actions froze, both in real life and in game.

“You better keep playing before they start getting suspicious,” you warned, looking at him with your doe eyes.

Unable to process what was going on, yeonjun didnt dare move.

“I said keep playing babe, don’t pay any attention to me.”

‘Yeonjun! Quick we need back up! Where are you!’ Hearing his teammates voice, immediately, yeonjun woke up from his dazed stated.

“I’m- I’m on my way!” He hesitantly replied them.

You gave him a look of approval as he tried his hardest not to be bothered by your actions. Seeing him struggle to keep his composure amused you. He continued talking to his teammates, attempting to sound like his normal self. I would tell you what he was saying but honestly, you didn’t really care about that.

You continued placing kisses on his neck, gently sucking on the skin, leaving subtle marks as you made your way down. Arms tighly wrapped around the back of his neck, you felt as he started to poke your inner tigh. You took this as an indication to start grinding on him.

Not wanting to block his view of the screen, you lifted your head just enough to see his expression. Pleased when you noticed how hard he was fighting back a groan as he grew harder underneath you.

You stripped yourself of his shirt. And lucky for him, or maybe not so lucky in this case, that left you in a pair of lace lingerie you had put on, knowing it was his favourite.

“You know, you don’t have to hold back. You could always just let your dear friends know how you’re getting laid right now,” you whispered into his ear.

Yeonjun swallowed hard, keeping his mouth shut as he felt your breath tickling his ear. He wanted to touch you so badly, but he could take his hands off the keyboard, not wanting to get killed.

Determined to get that groan out of him, you hands wondered down to your own core as you touched yourself through your panties. You continued, “fuck babe, i just want you in me so badly.”

You played with your clit and let out a whine. You knew how much yeonjun hated you touching yourself. You didn’t need to now that you had him. Yeonjun’s pupils were blown up with lust as he watched your little act.

“I’m so wet for you, i just want to ride you right now. You’ll be quiet for me right? Unless, of couse, you want them to hear,” grinning, head resting on his shoulder as your hands moved underneath his shirt. You pushed yourself down against him harder, adding the preasure you both so desired.

He chocked on nothing, contemplating his choices, hesistant to make a decision. Of couse, he did want to fuck you, but he didn’t want his teammates to know what was going on either.

You noticed his hesitation and decided to answer for him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. As long as you dont make too much noise, you won’t embarasse youself in front if your teammates.”

You pulled his pants and boxer down, just enough for his member spring free from its confines. You pumped him a few times, loving the sight as precum leaked from the tip. Spreading it down his shaft, using it as lubrication, you stood up slightly, pushing your panties to the side as you slowly sat down on him.

You let out a content sigh as he filled you to the brim, and yeonjun only wished he could do the same. You laughed slightly as you noticed how he started to respond his teammates with one word answers instead, his mind probably a mess of thoughts.

“You feel so good, you fill me up so good yeonjun,” you said as you started to move your hips on his cock. Using him however you pleased.

You threw your head back, letting out a moan, feeling him twitched inside you as he bite his lip so hard he could almost draw blood.

“Fuck junnie, I’m cumming,” you said, hands on his shoulder for support as you rode out your high.

By this point, yeonjun was in so much ecstasy he didn’t care about the game anymore, the screen just became one big blur to him as he ignored all the complaints he was hearing through the voice chat. Just as he was about to reach his own high, you stopped.

You stood up, getting off him and retrieving his tshirt off the ground. Giving him a wink as you made your way back to the bedroom, closing the door behind you. Leaving a very confused, and frustrated, yeonjun behind, wondering what on earth just happened.

You knew what was going to happen afterwards. Yeonjun hated being teased, and even more so, being left with blue balls. Most people would be a little more worried in this situation, but not you, you loved a rough and frustrated yeonjun.

You sat on your bed, legs crossed as you heard footsteps approach the bedroom. And well, you can guess what happened next.

.

.

.

=====================================

Am not turning into a smut blog but ill just write whatever i feel like writing at the time. And a little smut never hurt anyone right 😉 still not good at writing these sorts of things but I’m working on it!

Masterlist

#choi yeonjun #txt #txt yeonjun #txt writing #txt ff #txt fanfic #txt au #txt imagines #txt post #txt smut #txt scenarios #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun au #yeonjun ff #yeonjun smut

[softnoirr]

📓

this is one of those fun things where I know you literally don't care but,,, the one I ACTUALLY daydream is a totally different pairing (its sidgeno) and like.... okay indulge me i actually. really care and get excited about this one

SO I referenced it ages ago but it'd be a mob AU where they're either, already going through a divorce / separation or basically on the brink of it (ie. sid wants one and geno is wielding power to stop it) and I have a lot of problems with mob AU's in general but I do like them anyway, so I think it'd be a real "no one here is a good guy. no one here is going to win" situation, but really focused on their relationship as this sort of axis of control for them both - and how dangerous that can be, how complicated and load baring it can be to be complicit. but also just sort of unreliably narrated. The version of it where they're already divorced would have the police trying to get sid to give them information and geno is lowkey stalking him. no they aren't nice people in this. Idk i just REALLY want to write it but I'm absolutely terrified

i don't even know if they even end up together at the end of it. I've literally never written a fic where I wanted them to end up together in like. ~ my vision ~ of it (in my personal MMIYBs they don't end up together I just didnt want to be crucified) so probably not but in the . this is a love story [the love is the escape] sort of way. happy ending that'd never be accepted as such in fanfiction

anyway he's an excerpt of the version where they haven't yet divorced

“Maybe I could go home. To my parents. Just for a while.” Sid shoots for casual and misses by a mile, if the way Geno’s eyebrows jump up into his hairline is anything to go by.

“If I let you go, you ever gonna come back?” Geno asks, keeping the same casual tone as he leans back in his chair, arms folding across his chest. Sid swallows his orange juice thickly, the familiar prickle at his lips like another vial of poison stuffed into him.

He wouldn’t, and they both know it. He wouldn’t have a choice if Geno came to find him, and they both hold it like a threat between them. If he didn’t come back, Geno would come to him, and Sid won’t put his family in the line of fire. Not for anything. So he’d pack up and head back, or disappear before he got the chance.

If Geno even noticed he was gone at all. Geno blinks at him boredly, and Sid thinks he probably would, in the same way he notices when one of his watches is missing, or when Sid used to switch the spoons and the knifes in the kitchen drawer, just to fuck with him. Before the locks appeared on them.

Sid shrugs. Geno watches him for a moment and nods.

“Could invite Mama here, if you miss them. Taylor could come stay too.” He says it softly, like a concession, like he’s trying. Sid burns with it.

Put "📓" into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.

#every single one of these asks i've gotten im like. #i daydream about the fics that you DONT want #i know you're here to tc but you know what. *i'm* not #asks

[thechangeling]

Your heartbeat is disguised as mine.

This is a platonic oneshot between my OC Janessa Williams and Kit Herondale. Full disclosure, I am a nonbinary person writing about a binary Trans woman. I pulled all of the information for constructing Nessie's background and character profile from other peoples stories both fictional and real. If I have spread misinformation of any kind or written anything that members of the community find offensive, please let me know! I will fix it immediately. Also I'm a useless Demisexual so sometimes I blur the lines between romantic and platonic too much, but hopefully this reads as platonic. Enjoy!

Janessa Williams was in trouble.

It wasn't like this was an uncommon occurrence. Nessie had spent the majority of her life weaving in and out of dangerous situations, but in her defense it usually wasn't her fault.

Kids picking on her when she was younger because she was wearing "girls clothes." Angry people yelling obscenities at her while she was walking home and men threatening to beat her up in the middle of crowded places when she was still transitioning and looked more "obvious" according to some people. Whatever the fuck that meant. And Nessie knew it probably would have been even worse if she hadn't been white.

She relished in the fact that now she was a vampire she was essentially invincible. Like many other people, becoming a downworlder was a source of safety. Which is why it was so painful to hear shadowhunters talk about how "tragic" the creation of vampires and werewolves was.

There were girls whispering behind her back in high school. Just trying to go to the bathroom without there being some sort of public debate amongst her teachers and principal was also a factor.

Jenessa was certainly no stranger to conflict or adversity. But this? This was something else entirely.

Before she had died. Nessie had actually made a decent connection with other members of her community. Even making casual acquaintances was comforting. The queer community overall could be a bit of a shit show at times. With exclusionists, TERFs and biphobes rampaging about. But getting the chance to talk to other trans people was incredible. Especially Bi trans people like herself. But despite that she still felt as though something was missing.

Janessa still felt distant and isolated despite the fact that she now had everything she wanted. It was like a dark black cloud had plagued her for all of her teenage years. Depression. It wasn't just due to being in the closet or not being able to be her true self. It was just there. Corrupting her brain and dragging her down into despair.

It was that same despair that had lead to her death. And when she was reborn as a member of the undead, at first she hadn't exactly been grateful. But in time she had found her footing. Music, therapy, a new community of downworlders who were diverse, powerful and brilliant. She moved from LA to basically all over with her band. All of these things helped Janessa re shape herself and her new life into something better. Something stronger.

But yet she still felt a little isolated at times. A little incomplete. Like she was waiting for something.

Fuck that sounded so pathetic. But it was true. Or at least it was true until a wayward mess of a shadowhunter had wandered into the bar Nessie and her band played regular gigs at, looking for information on a particular downworlder.

Janessa was not pleased. She knew she needed to get this asshole far away from her and her people.

Kit certainly had other ideas. It would not be the last time they disagreed on something.

But she had noticed something that day. Something in his eyes. That same lost look of despair she recognized in herself. This of course hadn't stopped her from calling him an angelic, inbred, self righteous asshole and he had thrown his head back and laughed.

Despite Nessie's better judgement, she had decided to trust him that day. He had complemented her t shirt which said "In my defense, I was provoked" and her leather jacket which had the trans symbol on the back with the Bisexual flag as the background.

So she had helped Kit with his mission that day, which turned out to be pretty harmless, which then led to hanging out at the park after dark and eating fast food on the balcony of Ciernworth. He asked her questions about her life and her unlife. He asked the questions that she usually got about hormones and discovering her gender identity, and less common questions about becoming a vampire. She in turn asked him questions about his past and his coming out. Her fate was sealed that day. Janessa just didnt want to admit it.

And now, several weeks later that shadowhunter she had chosen to trust was currently sobbing into her arms.

"Kit it's gonna be ok alright? Just take some deep breaths" Janessa cooed. She was running one of her hands through his blond curls, and another along his back attempting to soothe him.

Kit gasped for air against his sobs as he pressed his forehead closer to her neck. "I mean-. Nessie I just-" he gasped, unable to properly get the words out.

Janessa shook her head. "Shhh no it's ok" she reassured him. "Take your time."

It broke her heart to see Kit like this but all she could do was focus on helping him. Not once did it occur to Nessie that she currently had a live human being pressed up against her, viens full of rushing blood.

She rubbed his shoulders. Kit sighed and began to speak in a more calm tone. "It's just that when I gave Magnus the necklace to give to- you know to him, it brought all of those old feelings rushing back you know?"

Janessa sighed. Him was Tiberius Blackthorn. The boy that Kit was hopelessly in love with. The boy that had broken his heart.

Janessa was most certainly not a fan. Anyone who made her friend cry was instantly on her shit list. Nessie was more then a little protective of Kit but she couldn't help it. He was always getting himself into trouble. Like the other day, dealing with the Devon Vampire Clan which Nessie was kind of a part of now that she was living in Devon temporarily. Kit was picking her up from a meeting so they could get Midnight snacks and play video games at her place.

The Devon Clan was really not happy to see a Shadowhunter. They antagonized her over trusting one of the nephilum. They called her a traitor to her own people. Janessa personally thought they were being a little overly dramatic. It led to a fight that most definitely put the accords in jeopardy.

Janessa also discovered that day that she and Kit fought beautifully together. Almost like Parabatai.

Whoah. Where the fuck did that come from.

Janessa heard a light snore from below her. Kit had fallen asleep in her lap. She snorted fondly. The emotional labour of crying must have tired him out. She didn't really blame him for that. As Nessie stared down at him, this shadowhunter who had become so significant to her, she wondered if this was going to end badly for her.

She could hear the words of hundreds of downworlders echoing in her head, including her own. Shadowhunters can't be trusted. Shadowhunters are selfish. Shadowhunters hate downworlders. They don't believe we're worthy of life so why should we be nice to them? Fuck them all.

And all of that was what she firmly believed.

Kit snored again.

Well for the most part.

It wasn't like she was in love with him. That much she knew. The thought of kissing Kit or dating him or anything like that made her quesy. But the idea of holding him while he cried, or laughing at his jokes, or even staying here watching his chest rise and fall and relishing in the fact that yes, he is alive, that sounded perfect.

Janessa scooped her arms under Kit's body and pulled him up off of the floor. "Come on Kit-Kat" she muttered. "Let's get you to bed."

Kit moaned in protest but didn't try to fight her as she pulled him over to her bed. Nessie could only hope that Kit had told his parents where he would be. Kit smiled sleepily at her and opened his eyes.

"You're my best friend you know?" He murmered.

Janessa swallowed down a sob. "Really?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "I've never had a best friend before."

Kit closed his eyes. He was probably nodding off again. "Me neither" he whispered. He probably didnt want to count Ty considering all of the romantic angst.

And in that moment Janessa made a choice. She made the decision to lay down next to him and relax. She made the decision to forgive him for things that were out of his control.

She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his temple. "You're my best friend too ok?" She said softly.

And when she saw the slightest of smiles appear on his face, Janessa made another decision as well.

She let herself love him.

Your heartbeat is disguised as mine.

My lullaby.

The song I used for this fic is Always be together by Little Mix.

#tda #the dark artifices #kit herondale #twp #the wicked powers #tsc #my oc #kaitlin'swriting

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

This story takes place during the Sanders Asides Are There Healthy Distractions Episodes, suggested by @heavy-metal-papillon . The idea comes from Logan voicing Deciets line when he pops up to grab his hat from Logan, so in this story Deciet and Logan switched places in the episode.

Switching Sides

Summary: Logan wants some time to himself and Janus wants to enjoy a movie with the other sides in peace. They support and respect eachothers wants and needs, agreeing to switch places for movie night. In doing so, they both gained a bit more than they bargained for.

Warnings: none, but if you see any just say something!

Ships: platonic Lociet, past platonic Anciet

WC: 2, 305

Janus adjusted the his tie one final time, giving himself a once over in the mirror. His hair was combed back smartly, hat tucked away safely in his room for the time being. He had gotten the type right this time, and the white embroidered brain logo stood out against the plain black polo. The stiff dark Jean's were a little uncomfortable but the dress shoes fit nicely so he couldn't complain too much. This had to be perfect, even if it was a somewhat casual setting, he couldn't afford to-

"You know you could've just asked."

Yelping, he whirled around to face the real logical side currently sizing him up with a less than impressed expression. "We aren't discussing anything important today, why are you replacing me again?"

Janus sputtered. "I wasn't!"

Logan's eyebrow raised even more. "So my choice of clothing is just that comfortable, right down to the glasses?"

"...yes."

"Janus."

The deceitful side snapped his head up to glare at the other. "Not so loud! You dont know if one of the others would hear!"

Logan cleared his throat. "No one is left in the mind scape currently except us. Even Remus is currently hiding behind the couch. I assure you no one will overhear us, though of course I will call you Deciet if that would make you more comfortable."

Narrowing his eyes, Janus took a careful step back. "Why aren't you angry at me?"

Logan shrugged. "Why are you disguising yourself to simply watch a movie?"

"Because I-well in case...just in case something comes up that....hes using this to distract himself and that's sort of like lying to yourself so it stands to reason i would want to be there." Satisfied with jus excuse he glared at the other, daring him to argue.

But Logan simply nodded. "I've been meaning to get more work done anyway and would rather do that than watch Roman rig the vote multiple times only to complain about the plot of the movie he picked out. Straighten the tie and be careful."

"Just...just like that? You don't even care?"

"I require time to....gather my thoughts, after the more recent dilemmas Thomas seems insistant on making harder than they should be. Peace and quiet would be nice right now and if you're willing to take my place then I wont argue." Nodding more to himself, Logan reached out to hand him a thermos. "Caffiene helps stave off the inevitable headache. I highly recommend it."

Dumbfounded, Janjs could only clutch the thermos go his chest as he watched the logical trait walk back to his room and quietly shut the door behind him. Something he couldn't quite identify tugged in his chest but he brushed it off quickly and sunk down to the apartment below.

Patton was the first to notice him as he settled down stiffly on the couch, waving excitedly and almost spilling what looked like cocoa all over the floor in the process. Nodding he looked up as Roman began to speak.

"Finally! Now that we have our resident nerd here we can vote." Janus watched curiously as little slips of paper were passed around, narrowing his eyes at the clump that Roman hid in his sleeve but decided not to say anything. He looked over as Thomas cleared his throat, taking the paper offered to him with an excited smile which he quickly dropped in favor of Logans usual impassive expression. He didnt expect to win the vote, but maybe since it was movie night they'd watch all the suggested films to make it fair. He didnt really know how this was supposed to work, Remus and....well, nobody ever watched movies together in the part of the mind he resided in.

Quickly jotting down his selection he waited rather impatiently for the rest to finish, gripping the paper tightly as a hat was passed around.

Wait.

He could only stare as the collection hat got to him. How had they gotten his hat? When did they even get it?....How often did they sneak into his room without him knowing? He wanted so badly to yell, take his hat and sink out, but that wasnt who he was right now.

"Hey L, you good?"

His head snapped up so fast he felt his neck creak. Virgil had never....not for a long time....that tone of voice wasn't for him. Virgil stayed with the "light sides" now, he only showed concern for them. Swallowing around the lump in his throat he reluctantly handed the hat back to Thomas to give back to Roman.

"I'm adequate thank you."

His hand shook slightly as he raised the thermos of coffee to his lips, but if Virgil noticed he didn't say anything.

Swinging his attention back to the current conversation he caught Pattons response to whatever had been said. "...voted for Frozen Roman but I'm still rooting for-"

"Oh my gosh! One hundred percent of the votes went to Frozen!"

He scowled as Patton cheered. "No, fu - falsehood, I did not vote for Frozen!"

"You didn't get a vote because you didnt wear a onesie!"

Taking a preemptive swig of coffee, he mumbled out, "I don't wear those anymore, they're too childish."

"No onesie, no vote, like our founding fathers believed!"

Janus snorted quietly, covering it up with an exasperated sigh as he settled more into couch. While the movie was being set up he glared again at the stolen hat on the floor, bringing out his phone discreetly.

Dee: I know I don't have much right to ask you this, but might I request a favor?

Logan: I assure you it's fine. What do you need?

Surprised at the quick response he continued to type, glancing up every now and again to be sure no one noticed his silence.

Dee: Roman stole my hat somehow, I was wondering if it would be possible cor you to get it back? I know you don't like shifting but I'm not sure how discreet it would be for me to try and get it as you.

Logan: It isn't that I don't like it, I'm just not equipped to be good at it. It does not make logical sense to disguise oneself, therefore I am at a disadvantage when it comes to such things. However, I can replicate your scales if I may have permission to 'raid your wardrobe' so to speak. Only with your permission of course.

Dee: Thank you and it's fine. Just dont go snooping around. You may not like what you find.

Logan: I will not. I have no reason to do anything other than procur clothing and so that is all I will do.

Sighing in relief, Janus settled back somewhat comfortably to watch the movie, letting the other sides' idle chatter wash over him.

----

"Fear will be your enemy."

Janus snuck a glance at Virgil at this line, glancing back away quickly at the look of panic that flashed across the anxious sides face. He wondered if Virgil would ever open up about his true nature....though perhaps until things truly calmed down it was for the best he remained determined to be closed off.

----

He nearly jumped out of his skin as Remus popped up suddenly behind him, clapping his hands at the prospect of Anna and Elsa's parents dying at sea, seemingly completely naked and comfortable enough to showcase go the entire living room. Janus shot him a warning look as Remus peered at him curiously, thanking God that for once Remus seemed content to keep his mouth shut.

----

"Wait, Hans is tricking Anna making her believe hes in love with her, but shes not around...why make that face?" He had watched the movie before of course but now that he had people to discuss it with that weren't making sexual innuendos every other sentence he felt much more comfortable speaking out.

"Yeah your right...."

Janus promptly turned out the rest of Roman's sentence, discreetly entering the date into his phone that Roman had admitted he was right in something, even if he didnt know who he was speaking to.

----

"Do you think this place has a lavatory?"

"Ice toilet!" Patton giggled.

"Or a bed?" Roman countered.

"Ice bed!"

"This place sounds awful." His nature made his blood run colder than normal anyway and the thought of sleeping on a freezing cold bed on top of a mountain surrounded by walls of ice made him very much wish he had in fact worn his onesie.

----

Janus chugged another mouthful of coffee in irritation. "You meddled with the vote to ensure we would watch this and yet you're the one constantly making fun of it."

"Look, this is how I show my love!"

Janus rolled his eyes and settled back into the couch wondering if Roman showed his love this way with the others just as much as he did with his beloved disney films.

----

Janus watched as Virgil voiced his thoughts on the matter that had made them all plan this movie night in the first place. A familiar kind of second hand hurt tugged in his chest while the others' thoughts spiraled further and further, unconsciously blanketing the room with an ever more suffocating blanket of anxiety. He watched as Roman grimaced from across the room, Patton fidgeting in place and gripping his mug ever harder and Thomas dragging fingers through messy hair as Virgil only continued talking faster and faster, becoming more and more worked up as the literal word vomit consumed any rational thoughts left in the room.

"Thomas, Virgil?" He waited calmly as Thomas peeked out from his hands and Virgils panicked face snapped towards him. Pushing down the old familiarity he continued on. "Please do me a favor and name me five things that you can see."

"Staircase." Thomas sighed.

"Impending doom." Virgil quickly countered.

"Olaf."

"A future without friends."

"Lamp!"

"Blinds."

"Pants."

"Now four things you can feel."

"Pants."

"A bad feeling."

"The couch."

"Wall."

"Hair."

"Three you can hear." He smiled in relief as Virgil began to participate more, visibly calming as his mind was brought back to the present.

"Olaf."

"The fan."

"The ice machine for some reason."

Thomas really needed to fix his appliances. "Two things can smell."

"Clean shirt."

"The deodorant Thomas put on because....he was gonna go out tonight."

"And one thing you can taste."

"A sour taste in my mouth probably leftover from those reheated tai noodle leftovers."

Both variably more calm, Janus tried gently explaining the technique he had used, though he knew they both already knew it seemed like a good idea to remind them that they were allowed to use the technique whenever they needed it.

"Thank you, Logan." Thomas breathed out as he leaned forward tiredly.

Janus smiled, going to take another swig of his dwindling coffee when he caught site of a figure dressed in black and yellow on the stairs, nobody having noticed his presence yet.

Allowing himself a smirk behind the thermos, he responded. "No problem. Just your cool teacher being his cool self."

He smiled slightly wider as he heard a quiet scoff from the figure, just loud enough that he could hear it. He hoped Logan didn't think he was making fun of him, this was a rare day where he hadn't lied once around the others.

----

Logan settled quietly on the stairs til the end of the movie, seeming content to join them quietly until Roman brought Janus' hat back out.

After they had discussed the movie's ending, with Virgils anxious thoughts still persisting, he realized they needed to do something else that more actively distracted them all from the situation. As Roman brought out his hat to vote on another activity Logan stepped in quickly, Virgil hissing at him much to Janus' amusement while Logan snatched his hat back without a glance in his direction.

"I was looking for this! Don't touch my shit!" Janus bit his lip hard to keep from busting out laughing at the reality of Logan swearing at Roman for him, a warm feeling enveloping him as the others continued with whatever conversgion they had moved on to. His focus came back as the ending of some kind of Frozen fix it fanfiction was being discussed, making it very hard not to feel smug as his suggested was acted upon and Thomas definitely seemed happier than he had previously. Not being needed for whatever ridiculous story was sure go come out he sunk back down into the mind scape, startling slightly when he appeared right next to Logan who was currently fixing a spare tie as he left Janus' room.

"Ah, you're back. I left your hat on the bedside where I assume it was taken in the first place. I'm the future know that with a little concentration we are able to keep certain sides out of our rooms. I would suggest you utilize this to prevent future thievery."

Janus shook off his disguise and held out the stolen tie. "Thank you...for letting me, well you didn't have to allow me to ho in your stead. I....appreciate the trust."

"Keep it." Logan gestured to the tie before turning away. "Just in case."

Janjs watched in confusion as Logan returned to his room to lock himself away again, finally sighing and turning to his own. Smiling a little he laid the tie carefully in a drawer before plunking his hat back on his head, shoulders sagging in relief at the familiarity.

It was nice to pretend to be someone else and talk with fake friends. But maybe, in allowing himself vulnerability, he had found himself another real one.

This work is also available on AO3!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #lociet #logan sanders #deciet sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #ao3

[aliferous-ly]

Seeing Red

based on this by @illogicallyinclined​ because um? i love it ? i took a fewww creative liberties also wrath is rage bc i didnt see the wrath tags until After writing so /peace sign/

warnings: injury, blood, knife as a weapon, loud terrible noises (like nails on a chalkboard esque), bliiinding, eye trauma, basically all the og warning tags plus like. logan freaking out

<3

--

Logan clutched at his collar. Air clogged in his throat like it moved through molasses, and he tore the first few buttons clean off of his shirt. His tie, already loosened, flopped, almost completely undone, against his chest. 

“Shit shit shit shit!” 

“Virgil?” 

“Honey, what’s going--”

“Goddamnit!” Virgil’s voiced pounded against Logan’s ears. He could hear Patton worrying, hear Roman asking what to do, while Virgil shouted, his voiced fused with frustration-anger-fear-fear-fear. 

“I’m gone!” Virgil finally said. “I’m gone! He took control, I’m gone.” 

And by that, of course, he meant he no longer could influence Thomas’s decisions. Patton’s control had flown out the window rather early on, similarly with Roman’s. Virgil, the deep-seated highly volatile Anxiety, usually kept the reigns for… ever. He’d never slipped yet. Anxiety had some sort of hand in nearly every part of Thomas’s life. 

Logan could hear all of this happening, but he was in another room. Not completely by choice, he’d been tugged there by… something, something, why can’t he remember -- and, well. He couldn’t really breathe. But it was fine. Everything was fine. 

A sharp, piercing noise shot through his head like a knife scraping down a chalkboard. A warbled gasp of pain shot from his lips but -- but -- 

“Logan! We have to get -- we have to get Logan--” Virgil’s voice cut through the walls, loud and frantic. 

“Calm down, calm down, he’s fine.” Roman’s. Strong, willful Roman. Steady and flighty all at once. 

“No, he’s -- Rage -- he’s --” Logan could hear the words tearing from Virgil’s mouth in gasps, bullet words catching on the wind. 

“He’s just in the other room, I’ll go get him.” Patton, now. A gentle force from behind, a safety net. The doorknob rattled. A knock. Logan hadn’t locked the door. 

“Logan, buddy?” Patton called out. Tentative, concerned, fear-fear-fear--

The piercing noise grew to a cacophonous level until he couldn’t hear what was happening, here there or anywhere, a never-ending onslaught of high-pitched noise barraging his senses, stuffing his brain with nothing but echoes and ringing and he couldn’t hear everything he touched was static and -- 

Silence. 

“Oh, Logan~” 

He knew that voice. He knew that voice, so why couldn’t he remember -- 

His senses flooded back to him, one right after another. Carpet under his fingers, a steady beating in his ears, two black leather boots with pitch dark spikes. 

He looked up. 

Rage smiled, lips stretching and gruesome. His teeth glinted bright, bright white. Logan could feel his heart in his throat, a foreign feeling sweeping through him. An external pounding echoed in the back of his mind, like it was happening but he couldn’t -- really -- hear -- 

Then Logan blinked and realized that his teeth weren’t the only things glinting, that he was holding a long -- silver -- knife. 

Logan scrambled to his feet with a reserve of energy he didn’t know he had, everything loud and narrow and bright. 

“Oh, don’t freak, freak,” Rage said. He twirled the blade once, twice, before a power-hungry grin overtook his face. “I’d say it’s nothing personal but I’m going to relish every moment of this.” 

“Don’t--” Logan extended his palms but in moments Rage was upon him, gripping at his arms his shirt his tie -- Logan pushed against him, something primal and raw erupting as he yelled. Rage’s wrists were burning, hotter than anything Logan knew, his hands slipping against rough obsidian skin. Rage was a flurry of limbs and Logan couldn’t see, couldn’t see, couldn’t see and --

The knife hovered above his eyes, just between his glasses. Rage laughed and laughed and laughed, eyes flung open wide, golden red eyes -- orange black eyes -- fire and brimstone -- 

The bridge of his glasses snapped. 

The world erupted into red. 

“Can you see it?” Rage might’ve whispered or yelled but it all sounded the same to Logan’s ears, crashing waves of fear and pain filling his head. Can you see it? 

The color was never ending, lacking depth and feeling and Roman loved red, he loved the color, but it didn’t feel like Roman, this hateful burning hellfire scarlet -- everything hurt, it hurt and he couldn’t see because of all the fucking red in his vision, he just wanted it all to go away and --

Silence. 

Rage was gone -- Logan could sense it, in the room. Rage’s presence filled every crack, every hole. He needed to be seen, had to be known. Rage was gone. Rage was… gone. 

Logan choked. His ears burned. Something viscous and warm slogged down his cheeks and Logan thought, well, tears are thicker than I remember, well, would the others find him, well, Rage really got what he wanted. 

And then he remembered, oh. Oh. Tears don’t hurt, not like this. Not like this. 

And he remembered the big silver knife, settled between his eyes, and Logan realized his eyes weren’t closed. He wasn’t guarding himself against a bright world. He no longer saw red and instead everything was -- 

Dark. 

A sob tore from his throat. His shoulders shook and he trembled, trembled for someone to help, for someone to give him his sight back give it back --

Hysteria rose and he forced it down. Object impermanence renders you --

But Rage was different than Remus, Logan knew this -- 

Object impermanence renders you pretty unintimidating. 

Something loud cracked, like wood splintering in half. 

What’s so frightening about something with no real world impact?

A warm touch, cool against his burning skin. Soft hair against his neck and ears, a pressure on his arms. Movement, smooth and swift, the fabric of the couch against his elbows. 

Someone wrapped their arms around him, sideways, like they leaned against -- against the arm of the couch, and his own back was against the back of the couch. 

The muffled ringing in his ears subsided, just enough. He could feel fabric -- a sweatshirt? -- against his arms. A voice murmured in his ear and as time trekked on he could make out more and more. 

“We’re here,” the voice was saying. Virgil was saying. Virgil, who was holding on tight to Logan, unwilling to let him go. Undoubtedly getting blood all over his sweatshirt because that’s what was dripping down Logan’s face. That’s what was… 

“It hurts,” Logan said. 

Virgil pressed his forehead against Logan’s jawbone, lips against his shoulder. “I know. I know. Roman and Patton are here to help.” 

Logan made a small, pitiful noise, but when they asked -- Roman, Logan thinks, but the voice was so soft it could’ve been Patton -- if they could help him, treat him, he nodded. 

It hurt so much less than he thought it would. 

Logan knew that cleaning wounds -- anywhere, not just on the face -- hurt like hell. Hurt almost more than the initial wound, because the residual adrenaline had worn off by then. But he barely noticed it -- a prick, a tug. He was more aware of Virgil’s heavy weight around his torso, his head pressed against Logan’s neck. 

“Done,” Roman (definitely Roman, Logan was positive this time) said. “Patton brought some soft clothes for you.” 

“Thomas,” Logan said. “What about--”

“Thomas is fine,” Virgil said, interrupted. “After…” He swallowed. Logan could feel it in the way his shoulders shifted, in the closeness of his chest. 

“After Rage left,” Roman picked up. “Patton found a crack and forced through.” 

“Thomas is letting off steam,” Patton said. His touch landed on Logan’s arm, feather-light. Fabric followed soon after and Logan just -- Logan just moved when he could, as Patton and -- Virgil, slowly dressed him. “He needs to take a breather. Rage is being released in a healthy coping mechanism.” 

Logan nodded, suddenly exhausted. “He’s okay.” 

“He’s okay,” Patton confirmed. “And you are, too.” 

Logan didn’t say anything. Because he didn’t know if his sight would return. Logically, probably, maybe. When Thomas recovered his faculties then Logan would… return to himself. Five senses and all. 

But… 

What if it didn’t? Would he be blind for -- for the rest of Thomas’s life? 

Virgil tightened his grip. Not enough to be painful, but just enough for a surge of appreciation and comfort to flow through Logan’s veins. He felt -- he felt safe, in Virgil’s arms. He knew Patton and Roman were close. And with those around him he was guarded from the rest of the world. 

Another wave of exhaustion swept through him. 

“I’d hug you, but Virgil’s kinda hogging all your hug time,” Patton said. Joked. 

Logan’s lips quirked. It was weak, but it was there. 

Virgil settled his chin atop Logan’s shoulder. “Nope. I’m legally obligated to stay here.” 

“Rude,” Roman said. “I knew you were a dragon but I didn’t know you were this much of a hoarder.” 

Virgil hissed at him. Something comforting and relieved exploded in Logan’s chest, releasing in a singular exhale of almost-laughter. 

“Did you just -- did he just hiss at me?” 

“There there, Roman,” Patton said. “It’s okay. I’ll hug you.” 

“Thanks, padre. You’re my favorite.” 

Logan imagined Virgil sticking his tongue out at Roman, imagined Patton and Roman giving each other the biggest, most obnoxious hug known to man. 

“Thank you,” Logan said. The words were dusty, and warbled, and choked, but they were there. 

“Of course,” Virgil said. 

“It’s no problem,” Roman said. He sounded like he’d tried for boasting but couldn’t manage to sneak out the soft undertone. 

“We’re always here for you, Logan,” Patton said. 

His heart lightened. Logan didn’t smile, he didn’t know if he had the energy for it, but he was… content? Comforted. Maybe even happy. 

“This won’t happen again,” Virgil promised. “I have a brand new crippling fear of Rage taking over. He won’t ever gain this much power, ever again.” 

“That’s good,” Logan said, because it was. Thomas shouldn’t be enraged so completely, he shouldn’t lose control so fully. And now Virgil had the means… to prevent it. And Patton had evidently grown stronger, too, being able to wrench some of Rage’s control from him. 

And with Virgil by his side, Roman and Patton aiding him every step of the way… they were okay. 

Logan could breathe. 

Everything was okay. 

#i should be working on my deceit zine piece but i needed to get this out #screams #tw injury #tw blood #tw eye trauma #the rest i think ppl can avoid w the warnings already placed at top #tw rage #tw wrath #bc same character ig #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #loganst #<3 love u babes and dudes and multitudes #not loving the ending but honestLY? i dont love most endings so #brabbles

[thetriggeredhappy]

👀 hmmmmmm?

ok, the WIP itself is going under a cut because it’s pretty long, but the explanation will stay up here above it.

so the premise was that i wanted more practice with experimental storytelling because, i’ll be honest, i was in a weird place mentally and that’s one way i work shit out. so i did the thing everyone else who writes for the TF2 motherfuckers does and i messed with the understood conventions of Respawn. the idea was that Respawn does three things: first of all, it brings people back from the dead and to a previous save state of them, a singular state at a specific age for all of them. this means that none of them age, because every time they die, that counter just restarts. second, it erases basically all memory from before they died--it resets them to a state before they’d made those memory pathways. then the team often catches up whoever died on what all happened, and they believe it at face value. however, if the whole team dies, they’re basically entirely reset. and thirdly, the system has tweaked them in a very specific way; none of them are very prone to asking questions, and none of them are very prone to going anywhere off-base.

the idea was, there would be a singular repeating opening to every single chapter--or maybe three respawns per chapter or so, depending on length--and every time, one or two words would be tweaked just a little bit in a weird game of telephone. there would be slight deviations in one direction or another, elaborating in different ways, with two constants: seven days after Scout last died he would realize he was in love with Sniper, and that never, ever, ever would they interact or witness a human being besides the ones on the team. this is because scout’s save state is that he’s trapped shortly before he realizes he’s in love, and because the team has no concept of time outside of their base, and unbeknownst to them, the world outside of their little sphere has ended, and they’ve been fighting in the gravel pits for hundreds of years. the announcer is just pre-recorded messages, the other team is also caught in the same system, the bases are entirely self-sufficient, and none of them know that the rest of the world has died.

i realized 1. i could run with this concept literally forever, and this would be like 100k words, and i do not have the time or energy to ever run with it for that long i would Literally Die, 2. i could probably adapt the concept in some ways to be applicable to original work that i could then potentially make money off of because i do think the idea’s pretty good, and then eventually 3. Oh Wait I Sort Of Wrote This Already, I Did A Whole Play On Time Travel, Like A Groundhog Day Thing, I Can’t Do This Again I’ll Die

but since i’m almost positive i’ll never finish it, here’s the work i already have featuring the editing notes as well. the working title was “Loops!AU”. literally absolutely feel free to run with this idea

1. His name is Mickey Lawrence Mundy, and he’s thirty-one years old, and he’s been a smoker for fifteen of those years. He’s tall by American standards and short by Australian, and his parents hate his chosen career path and fashion choices, and his favorite holiday is Halloween because it’s in the fall, his favorite season.

Not a single one of those details would ever be important, out here in the desert far from everywhere, fighting and killing.

The missions start and stop abruptly with little warning, sometimes heralded by the sound of a little motorcycle carrying a girl who’s worth a hundred times her weight in danger, but generally not. He always goes with, even when he’s not so terribly needed, because he’s told to and he gets paid if he does. He hasn’t checked his back account balance in almost two years. He knows it’s probably giving some poor Swiss intern a stress ulcer just looking at it. Rarely does something memorable happen, at most one of his teammates getting taken out and needing to be retrieved, but usually not much of anything at all. They’re important though, apparently. That’s how he’s getting so much money.

His teammates are as remarkable as they are unremarkable—so oddly human despite being absolute freakshows, much like himself. He’d argue with the Spy, avoid the Medic, try and keep the Pyro in his line of sight, and tended to get pestered by the Scout since he was the only person who wouldn’t actively chase him off.

But that last one has been acting strange lately. It’s been a few days since the last mission, which generally makes him pretty antsy, but this is a different sort. He’s been staring at Sniper a lot, eyes sharp from underneath the shade of the brim of his hat, like a wild cat hiding in the brush.

Dangerous, is the word he’s looking for.

2. His name is Mickey "Mick” Mundy, and he’s thirty-one years old, and he’s been bitten by more exotic animals than most people have even seen with the scars to prove it. He’s tall by American standards and short by Australian, and his parents don’t pick up the phone for him anymore for some reason, and his favorite season is the fall because it’s got his favorite holiday stuck smack dab in the middle.

Not a single one of those details would ever be important, out here in the desert far from everywhere, fighting and killing.

The missions start and stop abruptly with little warning, sometimes heralded by the sound of a little motorcycle carrying a girl who’s worth a hundred times her weight in danger, but generally not. He always goes with, even when he’s not so terribly needed, because he’s told to and he gets paid if he does. He hasn’t checked his back account balance in quite some time. He knows it’s probably giving some poor Swiss intern a stress ulcer just looking at it. Rarely does something memorable happen, at most one of his teammates getting taken out and needing to be retrieved from Respawn, but usually not much of anything at all. The missions are important though, apparently. That’s how he’s getting so much money.

His teammates are as remarkable as they are unremarkable—so oddly human despite being absolute freakshows, much like himself. He’d argue with the Spy, avoid the Medic, try and keep the Pyro in his line of sight, and tended to get pestered by the Scout since he was the only person who wouldn’t actively chase him off.

But that last one has been acting strange lately. It’s been a few days since the last mission, which generally makes him pretty antsy, but this is a different sort. He’s been staring at Sniper a lot, eyes sharp from underneath the shade of the brim of his hat, like someone who knows exactly who he is and exactly what he’s been hired to do and is just making sure he only takes out the intended targets, or else.

Dangerous, is the word he’s looking for.

[[every time Sniper dies and gets reset, change tiny little details about the paragraph above, like a game of telephone, deleting more and more information along the way. have sniper remember details about scout that he shouldn’t know, or circumvent earlier problems without thinking about it—ex. scout has an allergic reaction to something sniper cooks and later sniper cooks a different meal even though previous conversation is borderline identical. have one or two times where scout and sniper get in an argument because one of them died but the other didnt and they don’t remember each other correctly]]

[[final chapter scene, scout shows up frazzled, some conversation, deviating an awful lot from previous scripts]]

“Remember Woodstock?” Scout asked, tilting his head. “Remember when that was a thing that happened, and it was a big fuckin’ deal, all sorts of magazines talkin’ about it, it was on TV and everything?”

“Yeah,” Sniper agreed, nodding.

“But do you remember what year that was?”

“Well,” Sniper said, “I,” Sniper said, “I, well, obviously it was fairly recent.”

“Uh-huh,” Scout said, and it wasn’t encouraging.

“Had to be, what, three or four years ago?”

“Weird, because, uh, because the Doc—I asked him about it, right?—he said it had to have been a few months ago. And Spy said it had to have been almost a decade ago. And Mumbles didn’t know what I was talkin’ about.”

There was silence for a few long seconds.

“Because—because the thing is—“ Scout scrubbed at his hair underneath his hat. “—I, I had that written down. I wrote that down, I, I scratched it a good quarter-inch into solid wood planks. Y’know those planks, on the underside of a bedframe? Right where a mattress goes? I uh, I was cleaning under my bed for once, and I’d apparently scratched it under there. Just—just four words. ‘Ask Spy About Woodstock’. That’s it. And—and he started talkin’ about it like it had to have happened, like, before I would’ve even known what that was, when I was a kid or somethin’. And I’m just wondering—I—“ Scout was finally starting to really stumble, and his gaze kept drifting, snapping back, disorientation settling into the furrow between his eyebrows like rain on cracked desert earth. “I’m just wondering how the hell I don’t remember doin’ that.”

He swallowed hard, and it took several seconds to sink in, the weight of his words. “You…” Sniper started to say, and couldn’t find the last part of the thought.

“Me?” Scout prompted, almost desperately, and how long had Sniper been standing there, jaw gaping?

“Snipes?” Scout prompted from through what sounded like a glass of water, snapping his fingers in front of Sniper’s nose a few times, jolting him back to—

“Snipes!” Scout said far too loudly, and Sniper flinched, and resurfaced with a thought.

“Why,” Sniper asked, “did you write it down somewhere so hidden? Who were you worried would find it before you?”

“And did I write it down somewhere else, and it *did* get found, and that’s why it’s so hard to think about?” Scout finished.

Silence for a few seconds.

“Did… you write anything else?” Sniper asked, voice thin.

“That’s the thing,” Scout said, voice thin from a slightly different direction. “Because, see, I did write somethin’ else, but I didn’t need to find that writing to have known somethin’ was up. Because—“

There was silence for a few seconds, a few more.

“Do I… know you from somewhere?” Scout asked.

He wasn’t even looking at Sniper, but his eyes were a shade of—

“Because it feels like just… the way you talk, the, the way *we* talk—“

It was dimly lit in the camper, but his hair shone in the light of the sunrise—the sunset—the—bonfire—sunset?—sun—rise?

“It just feels… familiar.”

He was soft—he was tense—he was soft—had he ever even touched Scout before?—he looked tense—he looked soft.

“It feels like I’ve met you somewhere before.”

He looked tense.

“Is it you?”

“What?” Sniper asked.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” His voice trembled. “It’s all your fault. You’re the one doing this. Why—why the hell else would I have scratched in your name?”

“What?” Sniper asked.

“But—but it can’t be you,” Scout started, talking himself back again. “It can’t be you because it’s—it’s not just ‘Sniper’ scratched down there. When did you tell me? Why did you tell me? Why’d I hide it?”

“What?” Sniper asked.

Scout looked at him, gaze hard enough, fragile enough, glass, sheets of ice, that he fought to find more words.

“What are you talking about? Is it… what did you find?”

Scout looked at him, gaze soft enough, firm enough, decades-old-mattress, rotting springs, that he didn’t dare say anything else.

“I’m gonna ask you a few questions here,” Scout said, voice wobbly.

Sniper nodded.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Sniper thought. “I ate a sandwich at the base before I walked over here,” he supplied.

“Before that.”

“Took a shower and all that, fresh off Respawn.”

“Before that.”

“Well, woke up in the Respawn room.”

“Before that.”

“Well, I… I died,” Sniper shrugged.

“How’d you die?”

Sniper was

Sniper

Sniper was

“How’d you die?” Scout asked again, almost exactly the same way.

“Well, I…” Sniper started to say. “…I don’t remember. Probably shot in the head. That happens a lot, I get shot in the head.”

“Let me ask another question,” Scout said. “I come bug you a lot, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” Sniper agreed.

“When’s the longest time I’ve hung out over here?”

“Well, that had to have been…” Sniper started to say. “Well, obviously it’s the time when we…” Sniper started to say.

“When we…?” Scout prompted.

“I…” Sniper said.

“I’ll ask something else,” Scout said, paced one way, then changed his mind and stepped back again. “We get sent to the other bases sometimes. Remember that?”

“Right. Right!” Sniper said, clinging to the scrap of clarity. “We go to a different base every few months until it gets destroyed.”

“And those places have names,” Scout supplied.

“Yes!”

“What were some of them?”

Sniper looked at him. “Well, there was… and… there was a cold one, with… or a…”

Scout looked at him.

“There—with the, with the buildings, and the…”

Scout looked at him.

Sniper looked around his immediate surroundings for clues. He spotted a picture tacked to his wall, blurry and faded and indistinct and damaged, and took a breath, and words wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

“You call your family often?” Scout supplied.

“I do.”

“When did you last call?”

Sniper’s head felt like the picture tacked to his wall.

“Just one more question.”

Sniper looked up at Scout.

“What’s your name?” Scout asked.

“M-Michael—“

No, that wasn’t right.

“Mitch, Mitchel—Mitch—“

No.

“Rich—?”

No, it was,

“Mike—“

No.

No.

Scout’s face was a one-way mirror. “It’s not any of those,” he said, as if Sniper didn’t know. “It’s somethin’ else.”

He was right.

“Your name’s Mickey,” he said, “Lawrence,” he said, “Mundy,” he said, “and I think we might be some of the only people alive on the planet.”

“And I think,” Scout said, “that we’re stuck here, repeating things over and over.”

“And I think,” Scout said, “that we’ve both been the same age as when we were hired for a long, long time, and we keep getting set back to that age.”

“And I think,” Scout said, “that you stuck me at this age on purpose.”

“Why,” Sniper asked, “would I… what, what’s special about it? Why would I pick this age for you? If I—what makes you think that I’m doing it, and that I would?”

“Because I think that every time I wake up after being shot in the head, a few days later, I realize I’m in love with you.”

“What makes you think that?” Sniper asked next.

“Because I realized it again when I saw your name, and it felt like déjà vu. And I’m lookin’ at your shoulders, and I remember exactly what they feel like when I wrap my arms up around them, and how your stubble feels, and what your laugh feels like when I’ve got a hand against your chest, even though I can’t remember ever having touched you in my goddamn life.”

Silence. Sniper felt his breath catching in his chest.

“That’s not possible,” Sniper said, and felt his mind shifting away into denial. “You’re delusional. I’m—there’s just something wrong with our heads.”

“Of course it’s impossible. *None* of this is possible,” Scout said, voice scorched. “It’s not possible to remember feeling things that I’ve never felt before. Just like it’s not possible to be brought back to life, after being shot in the head.”

-

and that's the end of what i have written for this. so there you go

#shut up me #everybody talks #tf2 #team fortress 2 #speeding bullet #sniperscout

[lucianvalkyrie]

@sorceresscrowe The music wasn’t to her taste, for starters. Nor was the smell, although it was expected for a bar. Crowe looked around, then spotted a Glaive jacket hanging over a bar stool. She recognized the back of the woman’s head and approached, relieved to have some company tonight. 

“Did you come straight here after duty?” Crowe teased, coming up from behind the woman. What they did on their own time was their own business, but their superiors wouldn’t like to hear of uniformed Glaives indulging themselves at bars. It was a ballsy move.

She noticed Medea’s drink choice, as well as a few other people at the bar. This was a glass sort of place. Crowe didn’t know too much about drinks; she had been underaged when Lib and Nyx had had their bar, and there had been no convincing them to slip her something. They had been barely legal age to serve alcohol as it was. 

So she ordered whatever generic Lucian beer she could think of. It was doubtful this place would have any Galahdian brews. 

She was swallowing the rest of the liquor in a single motion when a known voice vibrated on her ears. Medea wasn't fancy, but that bar was different of what she used to visit normally with the rest of the guys, that night didnt thought to find another glaive there. And even if she did it with the intention of being alone, deep inside she thanked the astrals for sending Crowe that way and sitting her beside her.

Shhhst, that's my secret -answered with a shuckle as she taped the bar and the bartender served both women- Just when I need to drown nasty things -explained- THIS is my rebellious answer to what Drautos told me today -muttered softly. It was obvious that the glaive wanted to get drunk, as drunk as possible because something was spilling from inside her- I haven't taken any vacations since I joined the glaives, never, I was okay not doing it, you know? Lots of double shifts, no free time, no free thinking in shits I dont want to think, but today -made a dramatic pause- today, after the reports on our mission Drautos told me “You all have done a great job, Medea, two weeks off for you, and NO buts” - tried as much as possible to mimic the Captain´s manners and tone.

She sighed deeply- I don't need vacations, what am I supposed to do in two weeks with my life? I dont have nothing good in which I can focus for that long period of time, is like the Captain wants to torture me for not screwing the mission off or something. Grumpy old man... -another deep sip of her glass and her tired expression made the situation funny. She wasn't that “close” to Crowe but for the first time in her life, something deep inside her wanted to know her more and have someone to call “friend”- Im sorry Crowe… -muttered- You have found yourself such a funny person tonight -smiled softly- How are you?

#Kingsglaive #ffxv #rp #Crowe Altius #Medea Albert #Its perfect long or short #I hope you like this #I dont know how to drink either so lets learn together and blame it on Nyx and Libertus later

[tinselkj]

A night in your arms, forever in my heart

Who: KJ Apa & Andy Biersack Where: KJ’s House When: September 3rd Notes: Andy comes over to talk about all the drama KJ has been in, only to talk about feelings. Mentions of Lili, Ro, Michael @hwfameandy

KJ: Reading over the text messages again, KJ was glad he had a friend like Andy when all things came down to it. He knew he was the one person who wouldnt judge him, or his inability to choose what he really wanted. Did he love his ex still? Of course he did. He was ready to ask her to marry him before the breakup, but he had to be realistic. Six months had passed without any contact besides the occasional hello when the situation was required. Now with Ronen and his pressuring to come out and just be with him..to make a choice. It was draining for the now redhead. Unsure of how much time actually went by, KJ heard the knock on his door causing Keo to start barking. "Oh stop it..its just Andy." The man stated, silencing the dog as he laid back down on his dog bed a few moments later. "Hey." KJ smiled once the door was open, moving aside to let his friend enter his home.

Andy:  Truthfully, Andy hates know KJ was going through a difficult situation like this. He knew what it was like, there was a reason that not many people knew about his previous relationship, the two of them did a pretty good job at keeping it a secret so it was safe to say that Andy knew how he felt in so many way and he just wanted to be there for him. He knew that having a shoulder can make all the difference in the world. He made sure he had his dog with him, the small Yorke cuddled in his arm as he made his way up to the others front door. Andy smiled when KJ opened the door. Daredevil starting to bark slightly when he heard his voice. Andy handed him the small dog as he walked into the house. “Sometimes I hate that he’s blind.” He laughed as he instantly made a b line to Kao, leaning down to pet him slightly. “Hi buddy!” He smiled and patted his head before standing up to face KJ. “You look like shit, man.”

KJ:  As the small dog started barking, the smile on KJs face grew wider, pulling the small dog close to his chest. "Well hello there little one." He spoke, scratching behind his ears as he followed Andy into his house-making sure to lock the door behind him. "Aww dont listen to him, little man. You're just lucky you dont have to see your owner's weird face." If there was one thing he liked about his friendship with Andy, it was the fact that they could insult each other all day long, and still know the other will always have his back. No matter the circumstances. "You would too if you had to deal with a grown man acting like a child. I know leading him on wasnt ok, but holy hell did he cause nothing but stress the past few nights."

Andy:  “My face is weird but at least my hair isn’t fake.” Laughed as he pulled his jacket off and tossed it on the back of the couch, his tattooed arms now fully exposed. He ruffled his own hair as he moved to take a seat. “You don’t need someone like that, K. If he’s gonna be a man than he needs to act like one and not get fuckin butt hurt when you lay out your situation.” He spoke as he looked to the other. “Come on, sit, tell me everything.” He added as he reached out to lightly tug on his arm. No matter what happened in his life, KJ was always the most important person in it, and he needed him more than the redhead would ever really understand.

KJ:   "Hey! Mine isnt by choice! Honestly I'm so scared I'll end up bald by the time I'm 40, and I really dont think I can pull that look off." Having to dye his hair three times a week, kj knew it was only a matter of time before his hair started to fall out from all of the chemicals. Once he was finished with Riverdale, he was never going to dye it red again. Watching as he took his jacket off, the man couldnt help but admire his ink, wishing he could get more himself. "I know I'm overreacting a bit right now about the situation since I had just as much involvement in this..but it really irritates me that he couldnt see how uncomfortable I was. If you want me to choose you..how am I supposed to when you cant even pick up on when I'm uncomfortable?" Sitting down next to him, KJ opted to lay his head in his friends lap, wanting someone to run their fingers through his hair as he spoke. "And if the first guy I've really slept with is willing to put that sort of ultimatum up..choosing him or lil..then do I even want to explore that side?" KJ was beyond annoyed at this point and his animated gestures emphasized that.

Andy:  “No, you’ll have hair for a very long time. Just gotta take care of it when you’re done with the show.” He was laughing softly through the words. He didn’t mind the actors original hair color, but there was something about the red that he really enjoyed seeing. When he laid his head on his lap, Andy moved to run fingers though KJs hair, slowly twirling strands around his finger as he looked down at him. “If you think you can have something with that side, don’t let one person ruin the whole thing for you.” He kept his town softly and relaxed. He could tell his friend was annoyed. “I promise you, we’re not all like him. Like I said to you, you need someone that’s going to understand where you’re coming from. No one should make you choose between them and Lili, not until they helped you truly discover who you are and what you want.”

KJ:  "Man I really hope so. It's not terribly damaged, but you can tell it's not as healthy as it should be." After the years of bleaching, the roots are a tad bit dry and no matter what I do to my hair, it hasnt fully gone away." Closing his eyes as Andy began to play with his hair, Keneti couldnt stop the small laugh that escaped his mouth at the thought of what he needed. "So basically what you're saying is I need you." He meant it as a joke, but the words held some volume to them. Andy had always been supportive, and if he wanted to explore this side of himself, he would want it to be with someone like Andy.

Andy:  “We can fix that, I fried my hair a long time ago, took a bit but I was able to get it fixed. Now I don’t mind it at all. And to be honest, I really love your hair.” He smiled softly when he saw KJ starting to close his eyes. He coughed a bit in surprise when he heard the words pass the other lips. He chuckled a bit of a nervous chuckle as he used his free hand to run his fingers through his own hair. “I- well.. I certainly wouldn’t be against it.” He whispered and his fingers were back in the others hairs, slowly sliding fingers through as many strands as he could.

KJ:  "I would greatly appreciate that." He smiled as he opened his eyes for a moment to look at the man. "You love it? Really? Well I suppose I can trust you seeing as you have really amazing style in general." Hearing how his statement caught him off guard, KJ laughed wholeheartedly "what happened to you not wearing your emotions on your sleeve? Because that's what you'd be doing. I'm such a hopeless romantic, that if anything happened between us, I would want that. I would need someone to pour my love into, and you've said you're not about that." If anything he was just messing around with him, but he did make a valid point.

Andy:  Andy nodded his eyes slowly, blue eyes locking on brown ones that looked back at him. “I do. I think you have very beautiful hair.” He smiled through his response. Those words that followed caused Andy to move slowly, sitting up just a bit more in his seat but made sure to keep the actors head in his lap. “Well.. you’re someone i trust, someone that’s never screwed me over. Wearing my emotions on my sleeve seems to be natural when it comes to you.” He shook his head when he spoke. He really wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing here, but he was going to run with it and see which way his own emotions took him, even if it meant he had that underlying fear of getting attached and coming out the loser. “You’re easy to talk to, your sense of humor keeps me going. I’d do it for you.”

KJ:  He was starting to cross a line that he didnt want to cross. Not with Andy. As the words I'd do it for you passed through his lips, KJ pulled away, turning towards his best friend as he tugged on his short locks. "I cant do this. I cant risk what happened with Ronen, happening with you. I know you would never pressure me to come out, and I know you wouldnt hold my past against me, but I cant ruin our friendship. You're the one person in my life that I can tell anything to. You're the one person I genuinely love, and I'm not going to let my confusion ruin anything between us. Not when you've been hurt as much as I have. I refuse to be just another person in a long list of people who let you down. You're different to me..you're special and I cant ruin that..I wont ruin that." He wasnt sure when he had taken Andy's hands into his own, but he finally noticed as his thumbs lazily stroked the back of his hands.

Andy:  Andy kept his eyes on KJ, it was like he couldn’t look away from him no matter how hard he tried. When he hand was taken, his heart was racing in his chest. He laced his fingers with his and squeezed his hand tightly. “This is Ronen? The guy you’re talking about is Ronen? That pissed me off a little because he was texting me earlier and coming onto me hardcore.” He spoke softly as he used his free hand to pull his phone from his pocket to show KJ the messages. “Keneti, listen to me. I’m not going to let anything come between us.. and if that means that I have to swallow my feelings for you then I will, because we both know I’m kinda crazy about you. But I won’t force you into anything. You’re the only one I trust not to hurt me again. I haven’t even told you about my last relationship because I don’t want you to see me weak, because I want to be the person you need me to be.”

KJ:  Looking at the man in pure confusion as he handed him his phone, KJ scrolled through the messages between the pair, growing more and more irritated by the moment. "I'm glad you showed me this. I cant believe how stupid I was to believe that he might wait around until I figured my shit out." Handing his phone back once he reached the end of the conversation, kj nodded his head, letting him know he was in fact listening to his every word. "You were my first crush when I realized I might like guys as well as girls. So that was a wild ride to try and figure out on my own because I couldn't really come to you and say 'hey..I have this massive crush on you, and I'm not sure what this means.' Andy..this is a two way street. You cant expect me to tell you everything when you wont tell me when something happens to you. Maybe I want to be there for you as well?"

Andy:  “Ronen is a player, and I would hate to see him hurt you.” He spoke as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. There was a lot that Andy was going through and he was the kind of person that would help others with their issues before he would let anyone help him out. “I wish you would have come to me, I would have helped you figure it all out.” His tone was softly as he spoke. One hand holding onto his while the other made its way back into red locks. “I used to date Michael Clifford, he ghosted me for thirteen months, got himself a girlfriend, and had the audacity to tell me that he missed me.” He spoke out as he leaned his head back against the couch. This was the first time he was ever truly opening up about the other and it caused a small chuckle to pass his lips. “I even got into a fight with his girlfriend because apparently the way I treated him was not deserved, when all I did was tell him how bad he fucked me up.”

KJ:  "Yeah well, I dont see anything happening now that I saw that. I'm trying to work my feelings and emotions out, and if he cant wait just a few days while I get my feelings in order, then hes really not worth my time." It hurt knowing he so quickly went onto the next guy who showed him just a little attention, and yet still had the audacity to say he had a date planned. He was trying not to play with anyone's emotions, and he wasn't about to let someone do just that to him. Listening to what had happened with his ex, kj saw red. Anger slowly bubbling in the pit of his stomach as it sank in on what he did to Andy. "Fuck him. You deserve so much better and hes lucky I'm not going over there with a fucking baseball bat for hurting you like that." He knew he was over reacting, but he hated the idea of anyone hurting his best friend. "Its not your fault that he cant keep it in his pants and be a decent human being and tell you it's not going to work. I'm sorry Andy..." he wanted to protect him from anymore heartache, but he wasn't sure what else he could do.

Andy:  "Anyone who plays with your emotions doesn't deserve you, like I said to you earlier, you deserve to be treated like a king." Andy couldn't help but laugh at the way KJ acted and it was a genuine laugh, one that he hadn't let out in a long time. "Calm down there firecracker." He smirked as he moved slowly to lay down on the couch with the other, placing his body just behind the actors. He wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him close to his chest. "I'm not thinking about him right now, and I don't want to think about him." His hand lifted for fingers to lightly run along the hair at the back of KJ's neck.

KJ:  Forcing himself to calm down as he moved Into a spooning position, KJ sighed in contentment as his back pressed against his strong chest. "Alright fine. But if he hurts you again, you're not going to be able to stop me." He wasn't sure how long they stayed there, or when he fell asleep in his best friends arms, but for once in a very long time, Keneti felt safe. He felt like he didn't have to prove anything or choose who he had to be..he could just be himself.

#para #a night in your arms #kj stop falling for your friends xD