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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Sleepless Nights

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: During an unusually windy night, Y/N finds herself unable to sleep while her boyfriend is streaming in the other room, unaware of the terror revving outside thanks to his headphones. So, Y/N does the only thing she can in order to finally get some shuteye.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I had such a blast writing it! I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you’ve stuck around long enough to read it! If you have, please enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

It’s that time of year again - the city is terrorized by the loudest, most intense winds that wield the strength of a mythological creature and sound like the wails of hell’s sufferers. You may find my description of this natural occurrence rather dramatic and over the top but that’s because you aren’t here to hear and see this horror show going on. Trees have been uprooted from the ground and have fallen on top of cars, damaging them expensively. Chimneys all around are whistling hauntingly as the gusts of wind pass through them, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

Winds have never sat right with me and I often found myself lacking shuteye during the night if they were wilding outside while I tried to sleep even as a kid. My parents thought I’d grow out of it as the years went by but I never did apparently, seeing as how I’m wide awake at close to 2AM on a workday. I have to be at work by eight in the morning and if I don’t catch some z’s soon I might just show up looking like a zombie.

This is not the first time such an occurrence has happened. However, on those past occurrences, I wasn’t alone in bed, twisting and turning under the covers so I could extinguish the sound that’s violating my head. On those occasions, I had someone lying in bed next to me with his arms wrapped around me tightly or with his hands covering my ears. That person isn’t with me right now though. He’s in a room two doors away, streaming Among Us with his friends.

I’ve had Corpse ditch streams to comforting me during anxiety-inducing windstorms like this one but I can only assume he cannot hear what is going on outside since I haven’t heard a single word from him. Of course, comforting me isn’t his job and I’m not the type of girlfriend to be clingy and in need of her boyfriend to be there for her 24/7. Quite the contrary actually - I’m independent and rarely ask for people’s help, Corpse’s included. However, there’s one thing I need help with and this is it - falling asleep at a time like this. That’s a task I cannot manage on my own.

And so, against my better judgement and putting aside my embarrassment surrounding my fear, I kick the covers off me and get up, stretching my arms above my head as I walk out of the bedroom Corpse and I share and into the hallway which is pitch black as the rest of the apartment. The only light is coming from underneath the door to Corpse’s recording room but even that is so faint I can only guess it’s coming from his computer screen.

With an uneasy sigh, I make my way down the hall, flinching when a particularly strong gust of wind rattles the windows. This apartment building is old makes noises of its own on the regular, the last thing it needs is these attacks it’s now forced to endure because the weather outside is crappy as all hell. Take an already noisy building and pelt it with gusts of wind, yeah that equals a sleepless night for me.

The recording room door isn’t shut all the way as usual. Corpse prefers keeping it open a crack so he can enter and exit it without making noise in the middle of the night as to not wake me up, seeing as how I’m quite a light sleeper. It also allows me to enter and exit it soundlessly whenever I want to either bring him a snack or spook him. There’s no in-between: I either bring him something to eat/drink, or I scare the daylight out of him. The latter usually happens when he’s playing a horror game though so it’s rare which is why he hasn’t started shutting the door as to be alerted of my schemes before I give him a mini heart attack.

And so, I tip-toe my way in his recording room, squinting my eyes when I’m faced with the beaming computer screen opposite the door though it’s partially blocked by the hunched over Corpse who is still unaware of my presence. So, in order to avoid freaking him out, I deliver a couple of soft but audible enough knocks to the door frame to grab his attention. My attempt proves successful as I see him yank off his headset and whirl around in his chair to face me.

“Am I being too loud?“ Even in the dark, I can make out the lines of his face contorting into an expression of guilt.

I give him a lopsided smile as I strut over to him with lazy steps. Just as I part my lips to speak, a strong gust of wind shakes the building, producing a wailing-like sound that immediately forces me to freeze up, the smile disappearing from my face.

Corpse’s face shifts expressions again, this time exhibiting a compassionate, comforting smile, “That’s what it is, isn’t it? You can’t sleep?” I shake my head, biting my lip as I feel my cheeks heat up. “Come here.” He mutters, opening his arms invitingly.

Without a single doubt, I come closer, not putting up a fight when he pulls me into his lap. I let my legs hang off either side of his hips, wrapping my arms around his neck as I hide my face in the crook of his neck breathing in his scent mixed with the cologne that has lingered on his hoodie and hair.

“Wait a sec...“ he mumbles, pulling away from me briefly. I’m confused for a second, but then I feel the pair of wireless headphones he covers my ears with and I give him a grateful smile, already feeling myself beginning to relax at the warmth of his body against mine and the soothing comfort of his touch. However, when the lo-fi music starts playing through my headphones - a playlist he’s complied for me whenever I have sleepless nights such as these for whatever reason - I’m a complete goner.

And so I find myself drifting off with the mixed sounds of lo-fi beats, Corpse’s whispers and his heartbeat and honestly, not to be cheesy or anything, but I’ve never heard a sweeter lullaby in all my life.

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stayevildarling · 3 years

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Wilhemina Venable x Reader- When the time is right - Pt 1

Part 2, Part 3

word count: 3.8k

warnings: mention of scoliosis, angst + fluff at the end

A/N: This story is kind of an AU. Reader meets Venable when Wilhemina is light Mina (orange hair, adorable, cute, friendly) and they get together. One day Wilhemina breaks it off suddenly and they only reunite years later but Reader is met with a much darker version (dark Mina).

Also, this used to be on my Wattpad but I decided to completely rewrite it and add multiple parts

Taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @rainbow-hedgehog, @mrsdeanhoward, @alexajbitar, @in-cordelias-coven, @kenzbro, @loverofallthingssarah, @twistedpoeticjustice, @billiebeanhoward, @minaslittleone, @lilypadscoven, @vintagepaulson, @ninaahs, @whitelotus00, @httpfiftyshadesofgay

-Flashback-

''Are you serious right now after all we have been through?'' you try hard not to scream but it feels like your body is on fire, your lungs are burning, heart racing and your eyes watering. You cannot believe you are having this conversation with your girlfriend Wilhemina right now. After a whole year of knowing each other and eventually giving the relationship a go she is talking about moving on.

'It's for the best'' is all she said in return and then she walked out, cane in her hand hitting the floor hard and not once did she look back, she ignored your cries, you begging her to stay and please turn back around. You keep repeating this is a nightmare and you are gonna wake up any minute to her holding you in her arms. But it was no nightmare and she did walk out of your shared apartment and ever since that day you have tried to move on. But no matter what you did working, moving out of the apartment, meeting friends, getting to know new people it didn't work, Wilhemina was always on your mind, when you are asleep she would visit in your dreams, when you are driving or outside and a song plays, she is there in your memory as if she never left in the first place.

-End of Flashback-

Even right now as you are walking through the streets on your lunch break, coffee in your hand and earphones in your ears listening to music she is here again.

''I never needed you like I do right now....I never hated you like I do right now'' as you hear those lyrics your heart skips a beat and it feels like it is breaking all over again. You tried everything you could think of, start a new job in a new field, you moved to a new city but nothing seems to be able to take your mind off the redhead, clouding your mind, her touch still so present lingering on your skin, her voice still ringing through your ears and the smell of lavender following you wherever you go.

Currently, you are working for a company in California, in the social media department and to promote the brand and their work. It's mostly boring but you do enjoy social media and advertisement so you gladly took the job considering it comes with a higher paycheck and a brand new apartment. There was nothing left in your old city, no friends anymore because you drove them all away as they always talked badly about your ex-girlfriend and the feelings you still have for her. No family because you were kind of always on your own and after quitting your job there, there was nothing holding you back. The woman with red-orange hair and a purple obsession is currently on your mind again and no matter what you do she is stuck in your head, like a catchy record and it hurts. As you think about her a wave of flashbacks hit you, with no way of putting a stop to it and keeping the storm at bay.

''Wilhemina Venable, nice to meet you'' was the first few words that you ever heard her say and for a moment you were so struck that you couldn't even say anything. ''Cat got your tongue hmm?'' was what she said afterward and what got you to snap out of it, introduce yourself, and shake her hand. And when you touched her for the first time you knew you would never ever get tired of feeling her soft hands.

You would also never grow tired of looking into her beautiful brown eyes or the soft smile she would give you whenever she would see you. Back then you just finished college and you took your first job and she was your co-worker. Starting a relationship with a co-worker is sometimes frowned upon and there probably are good reasons for that but you didn't listen, not to your friends telling you not to do it and not to the other co-workers after they noticed the glances you and Wilhemina exchanged at work. But you both never let that stop you and you fell for her and you fell hard.

Although you had some crushes before, mostly on teachers in college or celebrities, you never had been in a relationship before. Every morning before work you would get up so early and make sure to put your best clothes on, you would improve your makeup skills and try different hairstyles to impress Wilhemina and you did. She would notice how often you would come around to her desk and ask her silly questions you both knew the answers to but you pretend you didn't. And eventually, she took all of her confidence and asked you out and that night was the most magical night of your life.

You went to an expensive restaurant and after she took you home and she gave you something that night that was precious and you held onto it till today. Patience. She was your first love and she made sure to not rush, to not hurt you, to be there for you and hold you whenever you needed her. After your first date, you went on some more magical nights together, before you were ready to allow her to love you and to love her in return and she made you feel things you never felt before. She would make your whole body feel beautiful and worthy, all your insecurities left whenever you were around the woman who had many insecurities herself due to her back. And that's probably what you admire most about her, the way she made you feel whenever you were with her.

Thinking about all this, you think back to the many dates you both went on, to restaurants, shopping, the movies, car dates, attending work parties together, going to get drunk together. Life felt so easy with Wilhemina around, although she was a few years older than you she was pure, she was funny, soft, kind, precious and she was innocent. She would always treat people with respect and offer help and you loved her beautiful and kind personality. You never thought that one night after being with each other for almost a year she would randomly walk out of your life and not once turn back around or try and talk about it.

Hearing the lyrics repeat, you sigh and shake your head because it is true, one part of you needed Wilhemina back in your life because no matter what you do you can not get her out of your head or heart for that matter. Part of you does hate her for leaving and walking out, you never cried harder in your life than the night she left and you couldn't function for days. All you did was cry, toss and turn in the bed or curl up on the floor in a little ball until you couldn't cry anymore but the pain never stopped. It took days and in the end, your friends who picked you up again, taught you how to take care of yourself again by eating, showering, getting dressed, and going to work and you hoped that moving and changing jobs would change something.

As you are sitting in a park, only a few blocks away from your new workplace, watching people having picnics, playing with their kids, walking their dogs, or doing exercise you realize that all this wasn't worth it. Moving away, leaving your job, apartment and friends did nothing, you still miss her and she still haunts you. You miss her gentle side, the soft Mina as you used to call her, who would hold you in her arms, who would say soothing words until you would fall asleep, and who would make you feel better after a hard day at work, hold you after a nightmare or would let you ramble about another one of the co-workers annoying you. You miss telling her about your days and how you feel because you could be free with her and be who you are and you haven't been that way in a very long time.

Checking your phone you notice your lunch break is over in five minutes so you toss your empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can and walk back to your office. Today has been particularly boring because all you have to do is answer people's dm's and requests on social media because currently there is no campaign going on. As you walk back to your desk you put your coat and bag away and start logging onto your laptop. That's when you hear your boss on his way to your desk and you can't help but internally roll your eyes. He isn't a bad guy or anything, he is in his fifties, grey hair, always wearing a suit and he treats you with respect and you appreciate him but whenever he would approach you it means a problem, like an advertisement going wrong or a complaint or a new major client and that means longer hours and staying in the office till midnight. Not that you mind considering there is nothing or no one to come back home to.

''Y/N'' he says as he finally reaches your desk. Looking up from your desk, you force a smile and reply ''Yes Mr. Odell what can I do for you?''. By his posture, you can tell he is in some kind of distress.

''Listen we have a potential new client and I want you to come to our first meeting with them'' he says excitedly and you question why he can't just bring his assistant. ''I can't bring Janet she is sick so I need you to get your things'' he explains and you log off your computer, take your coat and bag and follow him outside the building. It is quite chilly, so you are glad that you put a jacket over your blazer.

As the familiar buildings and streets fade into the distance, you try not to zone out like you usually would but these days your mind would often be preoccupied with daydreams or memories as if someone else was entirely in control of your thoughts.

''I have a meeting with a Mr. Pfister and Mr. Nutter'' he says absent-mindedly while looking into his calendar and talking about the company you are headed to. Snapping out of your thoughts, you nod and mumble ''Of course Mr. Odell'' before averting your gaze back to the window looking at the hectic city and people going on about their days. Your thoughts wander back to work and you try to think of a few possibilities to advertise their products, as that might not be as easy as you originally thought when agreeing on accompanying your boss.

The first thing you see as you walk into a large unfamiliar building, following your boss's steps, is a front desk with some employees sitting there, it seems that this building is home to a few companies and different departments as they guide people into different parts of the building. You watch as your boss approaches the front desk, ''Hello may I help you?'' a woman with blonde hair asks politely.

''Yes I have a meeting with Kineros Robotics'' he says and she looks at you, then him again, and points towards a sign. ''It's to your right just follow the signs'' she says and you notice how her facial expression changed from nice and friendly to cold and possibly scared? after your boss mentioned the company name. Reading people's expressions and understanding their underlying feelings, has always been something you are good at but you quickly shake the thought away and follow your boss.

As you walk down the corridor you see a young woman with long brown curled hair wearing a blouse with flower prints and a skirt run down the hall with a box in her hand, her heels echoing through the building. ''I'm sorry'' she mumbles hectic and nervous as she zooms past you and you give Mr. Odell a questioning expression before reaching the department.

''I'm so sorry there was a bad accident on the 101'' you hear the woman say and then you hear a sound that sounds both so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The cane tapping. For a moment you freeze, knowing this isn't just any cane tap as you are so used to a certain redhead woman expressing her emotions partly through the very device that helps her keep her balance. Despite not having heard the sound in over a year, you know exactly who must be on the other end of the hallway.

Temporarily you freeze, thinking maybe her leaving you and breaking things off with you, has ultimately clouded your senses and affected your brain and maybe you are imagining everything. After all the rational part of yourself, is trying to remind you that there is no explanation right now as to why she would be here of all places.

However, the next thing you hear is a clear confirmation that your brain is not tricking you, it's not your mind so clouded by her absence, she is here, the only thing keeping you from seeing each other is a wall and a few steps apart. As you hear a familiar voice your heart stops beating and your throat goes dry.

''Not as bad as the accident that brought you into the world'' that is all you heard and although her voice sounds more cold, harsh and raspy you are fully aware that Wilhemina is sitting at the end of that corridor. For a moment your body goes into a state of shock, your ears ringing, vision blurring, and your heart beating out of your chest.

Shortly after the girl what you assume now to be an assistant comes running back towards the corridor with tears in her eyes and her heels making the same clicking sound. She zooms past you and Mr. Odell again and all he says is ''Damn she seems feisty'' and you know it's aimed at Wilhemina and for a moment you debate whether to just turn around and pretend to be sick or needing to answer a phone call but you know you can't back out now, after all, you have missed seeing her for too long now.

All you wanna do is see her adorable orange hair, that you used to run your fingers through and untangle some knots after she had a long day, the dorky glasses that you sometimes made fun of, and beautiful pastel purple probably everywhere if this truly was her workplace after all. ''Come on'' your boss says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again and you walk into the large room.

Eyes instantly wander to the source of purple in the room and the source of darkness in your heart and emptiness ever since she left but not only does your heart stop for a moment as you take a look at her, you blink a few times, now actually sure whether this is real or some kind of nightmare.

Wilhemina's hair is a much darker shape of red now and styled into a tall sharp quiff, no sign of her usual high ponytails anymore or the lighter and orange shape it used to be. You notice she doesn't wear glasses anymore and you are convinced her eyes look an even darker shape than before too. She is wearing a dress and it's also a very dark shade of purple with matching earrings. Even her makeup is darker, and as you see her sitting by her desk you can't deny how intimidating she seems, looking at some files, her cane resting on the desk right beside her. Even the cane is different now, it has a snake shape at the top and it's not the old plain one she used to have.

For a moment you believe you just walked right into your own personal nightmare, the funny, sometimes sassy, and beautiful girl you used to love now seems like a completely different and somewhat evil person. The Wilhemina you once loved and still have feelings for, as they never truly changed, seems gone and it seems like she was replaced by a new one, a colder version.

She would have never spoken to anyone like that or treated someone the way she just treated that girl that seems to be her assistant, by the looks of it. All the staring and observing Wilhemina happened in a matter of seconds although it feels like an eternity, everything is silent for a moment, all that is to be heard is your own heartbeat and the typing on Wilhemina's keyboard.

You watch as your boss approaches her and you follow him and finally, Wilhemina looks up noticing the presence of someone else in the room and her gaze is focused on him, so she hasn't seen you yet. He tries to shake her hand and says ''My name is Mr. Odell I have an appointment with Mr. Nutter and Mr. Pfister'' and she just looks at him and his hand with a slightly disgusted expression but she doesn't bother shaking his hand.

''Very well'' she says and takes a glance at you for a split second, noticing a second person in the room and her eyes wander back to her laptop thinking you are just some assistant but when she realizes who you are she immediately looks back over to you and she doesn't avert her gaze at first.

Wilhemina takes in your features for a moment, the sense of fashion, dressing smartly and formally but at the same time stunning as she always said, your hair, the improved makeup skills, and still the same details she always loved about you. She doesn't look into your eyes yet and you are interrupted when two men walk over.

One of them has brown hair and the other blonde hair and you try hard not to chuckle when you see them because they look hideous. ''Mr. Odell, nice to meet you'' they say and shake hands. ''This is Y/L/N maybe someone could show her around while we finalize the details?'' your boss suggests, taking you by surprise, and one of the two turns to Wilhemina and says ''Miss Venable would you give this beautiful lady a tour please''.

For a split second, you are convinced, she is about to kill him but you aren't sure if it's about the tour or compliment. ''Of course'' she mumbles and your boss and the two men leave and you are left there with your ex-girlfriend and awkward silence filling the room. You haven't looked up or into her eyes yet and it terrifies you, she terrifies you.

Wilhemina has no idea what to do or how to react after not seeing you for two years and the last time she did she walked out of your life and your relationship. The redhead looks at you and without looking into your eyes yet she knows the pain, she can see it and she can tell this is killing you inside, the last thing she ever wanted was to cause you pain.

You take a deep breath with your eyes closed and turn to Wilhemina and your eyes instantly lock and you look into her dark brown eyes and not leave her gaze for one moment. She takes a few slow steps towards you, her cane hitting the floor, and with every tap and echo in the room, it feels like your heart is ripped into more pieces and your past is here confronting you right at this moment.

''Mina'' is everything you can say but it comes out as a whisper while your voice cracks. Your ex-girlfriend's eyes close right away because she has missed hearing you call her that for the past two years but as she opens her eyes she reminds herself internally, who she is and that she is currently at her workplace.

''Follow me'' she instructs and you follow her while she walks down a corridor and into a room with big machines. While you follow her you can't understand what would have happened to her to turn into this cold-hearted person. She used to be the sweetest and kindest person you knew but clearly, something has changed. You cannot take your eyes off her and as she walks you into the room with machines, she explains about the work they do here and how they do it and as much as you try to focus and look at the things she shows you, you can't and Wilhemina notices.

''Do I bore you?'' she suddenly snaps in that cold voice again, her nostrils flaring and your heart feels like a knife was just thrown right into it. ''I'm sorr- sorry I-'' but you can't even think of a good enough excuse so you just look at the floor and try hard to keep your emotions at bay.

''Anyways, these are the machines and devices we use, whenever someone places a custom order we make sure to fulfill that order as efficient and quick as possible'' Wilhemina explains her voice still stern, sounding like she has given this tour so many times, she has memorized every single word.

However, you do notice her looking at you the entire time she explains and it seems like she wants you to say something but there are too many things that you want and wanted to say to her for years but you never imagined one day you would run into her like this. For several minutes the two of you stand in the rooms with machines, Wilhemina explaining and you trying hard to focus on her words intently.

''Y/N'' you hear the voice of your boss coming from the door, the two strange-looking men behind him, and you look at him, noticing the satisfied looks on their faces, indicating the deal worked well, and he says ''I'm finished, thank you, Miss, for giving her the tour'' he adds now focused on Wilhemina. ''Let's go'' he says and you walk in his direction without looking back at her and just as you are about to walk out of the door you look at her and say ''Thank you'' and then you walk out.

As you walk out of the large office building, back through the same long corridor, and past the front desk, you can't hear anything your boss is trying to say and the entire car ride back to the office you try and wrap your head around what just happened, abandoning every single word Mr. Odell is saying.

''This didn't happen wake up Y/N wake-up Y/N'' you keep repeating in your head but it's no use this is no nightmare this is reality.

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mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years

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Movies I watched in May

Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.

Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.

Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.

Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.

Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.

Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.

The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.

Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!

Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.

Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!

The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.

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that-was-anticlimactic · 3 years

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just cause i feel like it, my top ten favorite fics written by @zukkaoru <3

1. it’s nice to have a friend — word count: 6,220 (3/3), mailee

idk why, but this fic got to me. it’s so beautifully and tragically written too. i just. words cannot describe how much i genuinely love this fic, so here’s the description and know that i am begging you all to read it:

“Mai?” Ty Lee whispers into the night.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we’re friends.”

2. you’ll find me in the region of the summer stars — word count: 4,078 (1/1), mailee

this one. God. it’s so good. it’s the story of mai, ty lee, and the moon and how the moon is what tethers them to each other when they’re forced to be apart.

3. where fire & ice collide — 7,102 (1/1), zukka

it’s so funny. makes me cackle every freaking time. grace is a brilliant writer, especially when it comes to mai, and this is just. Everything. basically, mai realizes that zuko is hiding something and goes on a mission to find out what that is.

4. this ultraviolet morning light — 86,073 (8/8), zukka

it’s The fic ! i love it so very much, it’s grace’s zukka big bang fic where zuko and sokka end up getting distant and angsty and miscommunication and have to go undercover together and the angst is amazing and the fluff ahhh and the art for it? incredible.

5. i slithered here (from eden) just to sit outside your door — 4,535 (1/1), mai & sokka

this one is autistic mai and adhd / tourettic sokka and their relationship with info dumping. also snakes. and it is incredible and i love it so much and go read it now

6. only if you want to — 11,600 (1/1), kya ii

a beautiful fic about kya ii with sleep paralysis ft supportive sibling and lin and it’s so angsty but so soft and so good and it’s just. it’s amazing.

7. my calamitous love & insurmountable grief — 3,308 (1/1), zukka

zuko finds love poems written by sokka and is angsty because he wishes they were about him (they are) basically and it is amazing and i love it so very much

8. of all the stars, the fairest — 37,200 (7/7), mailee

can y’all tell that i really like grace’s mailee fics? this is their mailee baby written for the 18+ bb that’s a mailee fake dating au and i LOVE IT SO MUCH it’s so funny and so sad but so cute and so. THEY.

9. kiss me s(wheat)ly — 2,068 (1/1), jetru

this is by far the funniest fic i have ever read. like. holy trash, y’all. it cracks me up every freaking time and it’s so cute and so cooky and just. it’s so good. basically, haru has a wheat allergy and jet chews on wheat and they kiss and haru has an allergic reaction. i c o n i c.

10. never been in love (and it’s all good) — 6,710 (1/1), bumi ii /// a little bit of you & a little bit of me — 19,666 (1/1), jinora & ikki

these are tied because i have Not been able to read them yet due to my summer job, but imma start them as soon as i catch up on stuff i missed for. reasons. and have the mental capacity to truly cherish these (because i will Not read them when i am half asleep)

anyways, i know these will be up there as my favorites and i know that grace worked really freaking hard on them, so i wanted to shove these down everyone’s throats ! the bumi ii one is a 5+1 about him coming out as aromantic and the jinora & ikki one is an exploration of their relationship as siblings and boy am i excited to read them and you should to!

•••

okay ! this is it ! my top ten of grace’s fics ! other than the first one, i actually don’t really have an order? i tried to have an order but i am horribly indecisive so. no order.

anywho, just wanted to give my friend some appreciation because i was talking about how much i loved some of these earlier and felt like i should tell you all about how much i love them too !

#mai to my sokka #good freaking fic #ily #i hope this is okay i kinda sprung this at you out of nowhere but i just had a gut feeling that you deserved to hear this rn and also #i wanted to so. i did it oiuhghuji #and i want to reread every single one of these bUT I KNOW LOGICALLY I SHOULD READ ROBINSON CRUESO AHHHH #anyways imma que this for sometime in the morning because i am Tired #i have many feelings #everyone go read these :)

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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For the meet ugly prompts, 02 indruck?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one and interpreted the prompt kind of broadly. It's set in the same world as this Sternclay prompt

Fun fact: there is a fire lookout in the Monogahela, but the structure I describe is based on more elaborate ones elsewhere

02. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless

Only in Duck’s life would “dream job” and “months alone in the woods” be equivalent.

The Bickle Nob Fire Lookout is a coveted position, and Duck is pretty fucking flattered they chose him as the ranger for July and August. He took the high clearance off-roader to get here, he’s got his bags full of everything he needs not to die of boredom (or anything else) and his schedule of supply drops. He’s as ready as can be and so fucking excited when he opens the door of the wide-windowed cabin.

Then he jumps back, startled to find a skinny, silver-haired man asleep on the floor.

“Uh, sir? This site is off-limits to visitors.”

The man wakes up in a series of catastrophic movements; he bangs into the wall, tangles in his blanket, and nearly stumbles out the window when he manages to stand.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t foresee anyone coming here.”

“Department spent all of June arguin’ about whether it was worth allocatin funds for this, so that’s why the place was empty. Fire up North two weeks ago scared ‘em enough to send me up here.” Duck explains with a casual smile; after all, even if he’s way off the trail, there’s no reason to assume this guy is out to cause trouble, “if you got lost hikin, I’m happy to radio down and ask for someone to come get you and take you back to your camp.”

“Nono, I, ah, I’m not lost. One needs to have a destination to be lost.”

“O-kay. Uh, well, whatever you’re lookin for, I’m afraid this ain’t it. This buildin is for the fire lookout only.”

“I promise I’ll be very unobtrusive. I even have my own supplies, you won’t have to worry about me in the slightest.” The man smiles,opening one of his two bags to show it crammed with shiny packets of food.

Duck shakes his head, “Can’t do it, sorry. I’m serious though, if you need a ride into town I can get a hold of someone who can help. Maybe, uh, you could find whatever you’re lookin for there?”

“No” the man sags, but begins zipping up his bags, “I do not think I will find it there. I am sorry for intruding.” He steps out the door, turning towards the deeper woods on the western slope.

“You need a map?” Duck calls. The man doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder.

Duck unpacks as much as he can, checks the weather station and notes the readings suggest those thunderheads on the far horizon are coming his way. By dinnertime, they’re right on top of him, rain pattering on the roof and thunder rattling the windows. He’s scanning the trees when he spots a metallic flash, not of lightning but of silver hair. His mystery visitor is huddled under a tree, wind forcing the hood of his raincoat back over and over again.

The rules and regulations in the forest are there to keep the environment and visitors safe. If something doesn’t violate those basic requirements, Duck sees no reason not to bend them.

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“I really cannot stress how grateful I am that you allowed me back in.” The visitor, who introduced himself as Indrid, finishes packing their scant trash into the can, “I promise that as soon as the storm passes I’ll leave you be.”

“Yeah, about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “you really don’t got anywhere to call home, do you?”

Indrid opens his mouth. Duck stares, pointedly, at the holes in his white shirt and the worn shoes sticking out from frayed jeans.

“....No, I do not.”

“In that case, you stay here the next two months, on two conditions: one, you don’t get in the way of me doin what I’m here to do. Two, you don’t tell anyone I let you do this. Deal?”

“Yes, yes absolutely” Indrid shakes his hand, bouncing up and down a bit, “thank you so much. You will barely know I’m here.”

This turns out to be completely true and utterly false.

Indrid does keep to himself most of the day; he draws, reads, lays in the sun outside the cabin and generally stays out of Ducks way while he’s working. But he’s also the person who sits and jokes with him during meals, who eagerly follows Duck’s hand when he points out interesting birds or plants, and watches intently when Duck reads his instruments.

He never thought he could live in a fifteen by fifteen foot space with another person and not have a full head of grey by the end of it. Indrid Cold is the exception that proves the rule, Duck certain he’ll never be able to be cooped up with anyone but Indrid ever again.

It helps that he still gets his quiet time; Indrid will got out for walks, even watches for smoke so Duck can do the same. They use the wild foraging guide and Duck’s knowledge of local plants to bring back extra food. Indrid was particularly pleased when he located some wild blackberries. When Duck reminded him to watch out for bears near the berry patch, Indrid simply smirked and said there was only one bear on the mountain who could get him.

Duck’s daydreaming of what Indrid might do if caught on his way back from a dusk walk. And, more urgently, how he can convince Indrid that he wants to sleep outside tomorrow night. So it takes two tries of the front door before he notices it’s locked.

“Indrid?” he knocks, “you in there?” Stepping back, he finds the windows hastily covered by his bedsheets and blankets. He knocks harder, “that’s real fuckin dangerous, if there’s a fire we won’t see it. ‘Drid! Open the damn door!”

He continues banging, unanswered, as the moon--two days from full--rises above.

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Indrid covers his ears to block out Duck’s increasingly worried shouts from outside. This is the right choice, the best of a bad bunch; it will keep Duck and anyone else nearby safe. The ranger will probably turn him away come morning, rightly furious at his irrationality. Indrid resolves not to argue with him; he’ll slink back into the trees, just like he did the last time someone threw him out for his transgressions.

It starts in his chest, his heartbeat climbing to marathon speeds in spite of him holding still. Then his skin prickles, silver hair sprouting from every follicle, followed by his back bowing in pain and his jaw elongating with a crack. From there the adrenaline kicks in, flooding his body so the transformation doesn’t render him unconscious (and therefore helpless) with pain. When next he raises his head, a werewolf with glowing, red eyes looks back at him from the darkened windows.

Beyond the covered windows, someone howls. Then he scents it, another of his kind coming dangerously close. He has to go out, he can’t leave Duck out there with something that will rip him apart, surely he likes the human enough for his mind to see him as a friend, not prey-

CRACK

The door splinters off its hinges; he growls, ready to defend his home. A deeper growl answers him as a larger wolf, black-furred and yellow eyed, stalks across the threshold.

“What. the. Fuck?” the newcomer snaps, “I told you, you can only stay if you don’t fuck up my work and locking me out comes real fuckin close to that!”

He cocks his head “Duck?”

“No, I’m the fuckin president of the united states.”

“I, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to all fours, then flattens to his belly just to be safe, “I didn’t know, I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Duck points to the broken door, “you coulda just done that from the opposite side and I woulda been dinner.”

“No I, I know that if I confine myself I tend to be...calmer. I don’t get overstimulated and then agitated.”

“You coulda just told me. Lockin me out is real rude.”

Indrid whines, crawls close enough to nose at him.

“You don’t gotta do that; I ain't assertin dominance or some shit, I’m just a little annoyed.”

He whines again, “please don’t make me leave.”

“I won’t.” Duck’s voice turns softer.

“And you will not get angry at me for not being appropriately grateful for your leniency?”

Duck frowns, “Aw jesus, did you come from one of those old-school packs?

“Yes” Indrid grumbles, hating himself for how easily he fell into manners he loathes, how deep the teachings of his home run.

Duck eases him up so they’re both sitting, then noses the side of his face, “We don't do that around here. Least, I don't. I don’t spend a ton of time with most of the other Weres when they’re wolfed-out, but they ain’t big on tradition and hierarchy the rest of the time.”

“Ah. That’s, that’s good.”

The other Were stretches, stands and pads about the room, removing the make-shift curtains, “You gotta teach me how you’re so fuckin accurate on when the moon is full enough to make us shift whether or not we want to; I thought I had a day left. I, uh, I was gonna ask you to sleep in here while I ‘slept under the stars’ so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not afraid of hurting someone?”

“Nah, especially not this far out. Sometimes I hunt deer, but whatever strain of this I got doesn’t go feral unless some shit goes majorly wrong.” He drops the blankets on the floor, “don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like huntin tonight. Or stargazin. I’m beat from work.”

“Agreed. Transforming against my will always makes me tired.”

Duck lays down on the floor,yawns, “In that case: sleep tight ‘Drid.”

Indrid tries to do just that. But every time he catches Duck’s scent he wishes he could move closer to him, then remembers that would be rude, and continues in that back and forth until he’s wide awake. It doesn’t help that his Were form runs cold; he’s shivering in spite of it still being close to eighty degrees.

His ears flick at Duck’s footfalls. Then a warm, bulky frame curls around his freezing, lanky one.

“This okay?” Duck carefully drapes an arm over him.

Indrid sighs, feeling safer than he has in a year, “better than.”

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“I’m a seer.”

Duck looks up from his breakfast, mouth full but question clear.

“Last night, you asked me how I knew we’d transform. Seeing the future makes it rather easy.”

“Damn, that does sound handy.”

“In many ways it is. Though it carries some, ah, some downsides.” Indrid steers his thoughts towards safer paths, “If you’d like, I could use it to help you with the fire lookout.”

The ranger grins, the expression twice as warm as his fur the night before, “That’d be fuckin great.”

Indrid smiles back, keeps his eyes on the windows so as not to look longingly back at the rumpled sheets. They awoke this morning in a heap, Duck’s modesty preserved only by a blanket and Indrid’s hair stuck in all directions. He’d been ready to apologize for not moving away before dawn, but Duck simply reached out, stroked his hair down, and asked if he wanted coffee.

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“You’re right, you can see more animals this way.” They’re perched, fully transformed, on the rocks outside the cabin. Indrid knows how to use his night vision for hunting, but Duck is teaching him how to use it for more peaceful matters.

“Yeah, long as you stay put most animals get up the nerve to nose around some.”

They’d transformed side by side, Duck banging his head in the process. Indrid licked near the bruise and made soothing, sympathetic sounds when Duck whined and cursed his luck. Back home, being demonstrative was frowned upon; here, Duck seems to always be casually bumping their bodies together.

When they go to bed several hours after moonrise, they curl up side by side without hesitation. It’s so very easy to tune out his visions when Duck is near and Indrid falls asleep while the ranger is still whispering about the birds they can hear.

He wakes up an hour later in a panic, disasters of visions past tearing through his mind.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?” Duck noses the base of his neck.

“Nothing. Just a bad dream.” He closes his eyes, tries to focus on Duck’s scent, his breath, the wind in the trees, but still the ghosts of his memories lurk in the corners of his vision.

“Can I try somethin?” Duck murmurs. Indrid thought he’d gone back to sleep.

“Of course.”

Teeth tenderly and ever so carefully clamp the fur and skin of his neck. He goes limp in one breath. He was high status enough that no one ever did this to him, but goodness does he wish they had

The ranger let’s go, “Do I need to do it again?”

“Please.”

Duck obliges and Indrid whimpers, melting shamelessly in his arms.

“Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”

“Any time, ‘Drid. Uh, before you, uh, go to sleep there’s somethin I wanna ask you. Since you need a place to stay, do you, uh, wanna stay with me? In Kepler.”

“You’d really like that? You, if this is out of pity-”

“It ain’t.”

There were no futures where it was. Indrid wanted to hear the words all the same.

“Besides” Duck nuzzles him, “we already know we make damn good roommates.”

Indrid can’t help it; he howls, brief and joyful, safe in the knowledge that Duck will be ready with a laugh and a kiss in reply.

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugly #taz amnesty #werewolf au

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pearl-blue-musings · 3 years

Text

Grow As We Go Pt. 14

Hi hi!

I’m so sorry this is late you have every right to be upset with me

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!reader

Warnings: some cursing, injury mention, feelings are hard

Written portion after text!

Masterlist

The blinds in your room let in the late morning rays of light as you finished your hospital breakfast for the last time. You eagerly toss the tray into the nearby trash can and stretch your arms above your arms carefully. You were cautious to not stretch too hard as you press a hand to your stomach.

Or what would have been your stomach.

If people ever asked you if you felt empty, you could answer them literally. You truly felt that you lost a part of you when you were lost in your thoughts. It had been a couple weeks of close observation as you recovered from the invasive surgery. Eating was normal as it just went to another section of your body, and your scar wasn’t going to reopen anytime soon. Your quirk deactivated there and you were able to heal the skin, but not your gut.

Overall it was relatively normal, which was unfathomable to you. You lost a physical part of you, how were you supposed to be normal? Your friends babied, pitied you for weeks because you were helpless. And Shinsou just-

Shinsou.

He was there for everything. Your first clenches at the thought that your friend had wasted so much of his time with you. He could have been doing missions, protecting citizens but he was by your side. You had to force him out to do his job because the guilt was eating you alive. It made your insides weak and strain against each other.

A truly ironic feeling.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the door rumbles open. Your eyes train on red hair in a long ponytail and a wide toothy grin. Your gaze softens as he enters the room, the doctor and nurses trailing behind him. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Kiri you didn’t have to be here.”

The taller man scoffs around you as he helps you sit up and get out of the hospital bed. “Of course I’m gonna help you. You literally got a part of you taken out of you, I’m not leaving you alone for awhile.” Kirishima pauses as you press your weight against him. “Besides, Shinsou would kill me if anything happened to you.”

Your eyes widen at his statement as you feel him chuckle beside you. Your mind began to race at a mile a minute. The doctors were talking to you about going home and what you can and cannot do but you were elsewhere. The purple haired man has done so much for you and what do you have to show for it? You can’t work, Fatgum made sure of that. And Aizawa was nearly beside himself when he heard the news, demanding you look for a short term replacement until you can come back to work. What about all the hours Shinsou missed because of you? How much overtime is he doing? He’s going to be so tired and grumpy and-

“(Y/n)? Are you listening?”

Your eyes blink rapidly as you meet the stares of everyone in the room. You quickly nod and your doctor continues on saying you’re free to leave. She complimented your regular clothes that Jirou brought over as she hands you documents and medicine. Everything happens in a blur as Kirishima leads you out of the hospitals back entrance to avoid any paparazzi. Kirishima politely takes your hands and helps you into a car you’ve recognized from the agency.

“We’ve gotta make a stop there first,” Kirishima comments, “they recovered your phone!” You don’t miss the slight upturn of his voice when he mentions it. You decide to leave it alone as you ride in silence, letting the hum of the engine and the wind outside fill the void. The broad man coughs while keeping his eyes on the road. “I know it’s a dumb question but, how do you feel?”

It takes everything in you to not let your dam burst but it starts to leak regardless. “Eiji...” your voice cracks at the nickname. The both of you are lucky that the agency is right up ahead so he pulls in and parks, directing his attention to you.

“I’m here pebble.”

You sniffle as you rub at your eyelids. “I can’t,” you start, “I can’t face him. Any of them. I can barely face you right now.”

Kirishima takes your hands in his and rubs calming circles on the back of them. “Who?”

“Hi-Shinsou!” Tears fall freely as you let his warmth go, opting to stare at the blank wall by the vehicle. “He did too much for me. He missed so much work because of me! I’m supposed to be this strong and independent healer who’s always counted on herself and could save herself from anything. Look at me!” Heavy panting and discarded tears falling onto the seats became the current soundtrack to your talk. “I lost my stomach because I didn’t assess a situation well enough. I made all of you worry and pity and baby me for weeks! How can I bear to see any of you when I’m supposed to be-“

“(Y/n)! Stop!” He grabs your hands rough yet gently and makes you look at him. “Listen to me. No one could have predicted what would have happened then and you know that.” You tear your eyes away from him but tighten your hold on his hands. “We all wanted to help you out. We knew it was going to be new for you. You had helped all of us,” he hiccups them, unaware that he began to cry. “We were all so scared! We thought you had died! Of course we want to help. And Shinsou...”

You turn your head back to Kiri, understanding his forlorn expression. “He blamed himself for what happened. And-“

“No! Sorry Kiri, but I can’t talk to him.” Your voice lowers to a whisper, “I already did too much, I can’t put this on him I just can’t.”

Crimson eyes glaze over, hesitant to reach out as there’s not much he can do. He decides to leave you with your thoughts as he rushes inside to grab your phone and take you back to your apartment. Upon his return to the car, he sees that you’ve fallen asleep. He quietly places your phone in your lap and starts up the car, proceeding to drive to your apartment.

He looks to you as the sun and shadows dance upon your skin as you leave the agency. He’s aware of all the emotional turmoil you’re holding and wants to help you with it. However, he knows that’s not his job. Maybe in another life he’d be telling you he loves you as more than a friend but that position in your heart belongs to another.

And Kirishima hopes that what you two are feeling will get aired out and you’ll be the happiest people on earth.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @cupcake-rogue @chefakari @angelofdarkness1020 @minninugget @guzmasjewel93 @pettyjayy @rainbowgundrops @trashy-simp @missalienqueen

#shinsou smau #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x y/n #my writing #i did the thing #mha smau #bnha smau #bnha x black!reader #mha x black reader #sorry it’s so late #I’m really really sorry

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opes-magnas · 3 years

Text

『 as lonely as time can get. 』

It’s finally here!! I’m a terribly slow writer, and am really thankful to all those who waited for this! Hopefully you enjoy. Thank you so much to @hamjjy, @kaavijournals and Lady L for beta reading this, you guys are the best!

Listen to this playlist here for the best experience!

tw: cursing, body sensitivity, very subtle idea of anxiety and toxic relationships are portrayed.

~calypso <3

I. the moon can't shine on her own.

She looks serene tonight - high up in the night sky, not a single star to accompany her. Does the moon feel lonely like that? Does she ever need a warm hug? Perhaps she gets one from the sun, and he accompanies her all time. Does the sun shine for her? So that the world can see her beauty? Perhaps so. When she can't see him, she turns bloody red; she seems disturbed. Hurt. Lost. Her fury always frightened the humans. It made them shiver inside their homes, praying to see the familiar ball of light rise from the east to calm her down. Perhaps it is better if they could only see her beauty. But does that mean the sun shines, not to show her beauty, but to protect the humans from her true self? Perhaps so.

The sun and the moon are a pair. And they will continue to be.

As long as the moon can't shine on her own.

Let's stop thinking, Luna.

The moon seems lonely.

I look up at the clock. A red, metallic light tells me its 3:48 am, 3rd April. Great, now I can have four shots of espresso for breakfast. Thank you, oh great mind, for deciding that we needed to have that conversation earlier. I sit up on the bed and rub my eyes. The curtain flutters from the soft wind blowing in through the window. Cicadas fill up the silence as I look at the full moon illuminating my room another time. Oh, how I hate the moon. What a hypocrite. I look away, and my eyes find the pile of open textbooks and spark notes I abandoned. A small smile creeps up my face. At least I'll ace that History test tomorrow. I could imagine the Boba Tea reward from Leo in my hands already. Leo. The annoying kid next door who's been stuck with me since I was five. Don't worry, though. I don't like him. Not anymore. He made it extremely clear that I was 'a size too big' for him. Then why do I still hang out with him? Short answer - I beat him up, he apologized. I shall offer no elaboration. Still, a lump forms in my throat. And maybe because he wasn't completely wrong.

I get up to go grab a glass of water. Mochi is lying in her bed in the hallway. This is the first time she didn't stir awake when I thumped across the room. The poor fluffball of a cat is probably very tired from the bath I forced her into in the evening.

You need to lose a few pounds anyways, Luna. Get rid of those love handles. Maybe some fat on your back too. That'll make people find you more approachable.

It isn't toxic if it's true, right?

That night, I decide that my glass is half-empty rather than full, and go back to bed. Suddenly, Mochi wakes up and runs into my room. She snuggles in and throws her paws on my hair like it's her property. I choose to oblige the demon for today.

The last thing I see before sleep lures me is the clock gleaming '3:59 am'.

/////-----

It's too warm in my blanket. I almost want to peel my skin off. I need to get sleep, I have a test soo- I jolt awake. Mochi is no longer next to me. I assume she's back in the comfort of her bed, considering the temperature in the room. I let out a groan as my hand outstretches to the switchboard. After a few terrible attempts, I finally turn on the ceiling fan. As sleep threatens to take me again, I see that it's still dark out and the moon looks just as annoying as it did earlier, its ever luminant light breaking down the walls of my privacy. My eyes turn to the direction of the clock- 3:48 am, 3rd April. Huh, weird. I realize I must have had one of those five-minute, extra strength-giving, amazing nap- Wait why does the clock say it's 3:48 am?

I grab my phone. The sudden light blinds me for a second, and through squinted eyes I see 3:49 am on the screen. Huh, really weird. Wasn't I awake just now - err, earlier? Wait what? I realize I make no sense, maybe I just read the time wrong the first time. My brain is repeating the features of the Hammurabi Code, my drowsy eyes are drooping, and I meet slumber once more.

I barely feel Mochi slipping back into my blanket.

/////-----

I wake up in wonder why my alarm hasn't rung yet. The room is still dark, the moon stares at me curiously. Give me some privacy, moon. My eyes turn towards the clock for the third time this night- 3:46 am, 3rd April. Bullshit. I've been asleep for hours now; I won't need those four espresso shots for breakfast anymore. My tongue clicks involuntarily. Is this some sort of a stupid prank? Leo is definitely behind this, I'm going to hunt that dipshit down.

Come to your senses, Luna. The universe cannot prank you. That's impossible. And stupid.

I grab my phone again. An attempt in vain, I realize, when I see the screen displaying the same time. I text Leo.

| loser |

you (3:46 am, 03.04.2021): you awake? (read)

loser (3:48 am, 03.04.2021): no

A chill goes down my spine. Did the just relive 3:38 am? I decide to call Leo. Two rings in, I hear a familiar voice, 'I said I wasn't awake.' He sounds tired, voice raspy and strained. You'd think he'd just woken up from the but he's the sort of person who thinks sleep is for the weak. 'Yeah no shit, Sherlock. I'm speaking to your alter ego, Thomas.', I reply.

He decides to ignore my bad retaliation, and saves me from the embarrassment. 'Why is my star pupil awake at 3 in the morning? Has she forgotten about the test she will help me cheat tomorrow?', he asks. Ah, this freeloader. I'm gonna kick his ass. My hands move frantically in the air out of annoyance, 'I am not helping you with anything!', I scream-shout into the phone, afraid I'll wake Mochi up in the hallway. She's a bigger annoyance than Leo; no one in the universe has energy to deal with a grumpy Mochi.

'Honey, you love me.'

'You're being delusional.', I deadpan.

'Is my chubby baby irritated?', he says in a fake cooing voice. And that got me.

'Leo, I did not call you at 3 in the fucking morning for you to put me down.'

The other side of the line immediately goes silent. Silence that reminded me of the last time this happened. Silence between the two of us on a Boba Tea study session in the park after an argument, the only sound being the pages of my sociology textbook being turned, and of the sound of baby birds in a nest nearby. Though I know that Leo meant it as a term of endearment, I couldn't believe he wouldn't ever, well, consider me more than just a friend because of it. A few seconds (sometimes minutes) pass before -

'I'm sorry, Lunie, you know I don't mean it,'

Another apology.

I sigh. I'm tired of this conversation again. I'm tired of having to deal with the same problem again. I'm tired of people putting me down. I'm tired of blaming myself. I'm tired of trying to look pretty. I'm tired of Leo. I'm tired of me. I'm tired of another heartbreak. I know his apology is genuine. I know he doesn't mean it. I know he's just being the Leo he always is. But somehow his words still continue to haunt me. Maybe it's because it's coming from someone who means to me the most, coming from someone who brightens me up, like the sun does to the moon. Then why am I the only one taking it seriously? Why am I trying to fit into someone else's standards? Why am I so painfully aware of everything but still choosing to be blind?

Why am I not able to love myself even though I want to?

'Luna? You there?', his voice breaks me from my train of thought. Weirdly, he sounds quite scared. 'I didn't realize how much it bothers you, I swear I won-'

Mochi jumps onto the bed and snuggles into my head again, paws in a similar place in my hair. A weird sense of Deja vu washes over me again. And then-

『 pop! the world has reset.』

My eyes opened in fear as a gasp escapes my mouth. I'm sitting on my bed, trying to comprehend what just happened. The curtains flutter with the wind blowing by. The moon stares in curiosity. My phone's on the bedside table. The clock gleams with a bright '3:01 am' displayed on it. And the problem is that I wasn't dreaming, and I wasn't mistaking the time either.

I'm in a time loop.

II. a tub fills with water only to spill it.

I fucking hate whoever wrote Groundhog Day.

Like who decided that? Who decided to say 'Hey, let's make a movie based on time loops!'? 'Let's make a dude live the same day all over again till he gets it right! Let's make him really happy, then really sad!'

Son, I'm this close to pulling an Ides of March on you.

I seem to be looping every hour, more specifically from three in the morning to four. Five hours have passed by, but my clock tells me it's precisely 3:18 am. Great. My dearly detested friend, the moon, is my only companion in this war with time (sorry Mochi). In the five hours that should have gone by, I have accomplished the following:

Two and a half hours of sleep - though I wake up when the clock resets.

Half an hour of revision for that History test I need to write after I get out of this shit.

Thirty minutes of planning a workout, Fifteen minutes of Yoga.

Five minutes of trash talking the moon, Ten minutes of dealing with grumpy Mochi who woke up as I exercised.

Thirty minutes of wondering if Leo's looping with me, and

Half an hour of figuring out what went wrong, and how to make the night perfect.

I don't know how much longer I'll be able to remember anymore. I've tried everything - making notes, scribbling on the wall, writing on myself, engraving things on desk - but none of them seem to make it through when the loop resets. I'm too tired to talk to Leo, knowing very well that he would definitely not believe me. And partly because I'm afraid I'll lose my temper and get hurt again. I'm afraid I'll end up being the insecure bad guy, and he doesn't deserve that. He deserves someone better. Someone who's prettier, kinder and happier. Not telling him for the time being also meant that I'll never find out if he was looping with me. But that probably isn't the case, the universe is cruel for a reason. This is perhaps its punishment for me. I must go through this alone. No one's ever been by my side anyways.

I'm as lonely as the moon.

/////-----

Another few hours pass. The pop between every reset scares me lesser and lesser. But my desperation to return back to normal is growing. I've been trying to figure out what went wrong for the past hour in the neighbourhood park. The cold air perfectly paired up with the mint chocolate chip ice cream in my hands. Was it me staying awake this long? Should I have just gone to sleep? There must have been something I did wrong that hour. My heart wishes to call Leo and confide in him. And the more time goes by, the more my mind wishes to oblige to that crazy request.

I pull out my phone, which gleams a bright '3:58 am'. It's almost time for the reset. In two minutes, I'll be magically transported back to my bed. I sigh. I can't take living the same hour again. The hour grips my sanity like it is a play toy. I waste another countless moment wondering where I went wrong.

『 pop! the world has reset.』

Well, I guess there's no place like home. I wonder if Mochi was worried the previous hour when she didn't find me in the bed. Do cats feel worry for their owners? Does Mochi care for me? What kind of a disgusting ship is this? Cringe, cringe, cringe. Shut up, Luna. I bury my nonsensical idea of my cat showing me love for once in the deep pits of my mind, and pretend I never thought of such blasphemy. I shift under my blankets, and decide to sleep through this hour, foolishly hoping that the reset would never take place if I was never awake, though I woke up when the clock reset each time earlier. My eyes look at the clock - 3:05 am.

That's when doorbell suddenly rang. I launch up in surprise. This didn't happen before. My heart begins to pound extremely hard, my head hazed in confusion. I run towards the door as quickly as possible stirring Mochi awake in the process, and fling it open.

It's Leo. And he's in tears.

His eyes are filled with fear, breath unsteady. Beads of sweat line his neck as he tries to get words out. Leo grips my hands tightly, as though he wants me to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. This hasn't happened in a very long time. He's gotten a much better hold on his anxiety in the past few years. I pull him into a hug and mutter words of comfort. His head is leaning on mine, and his breath slows. I tell him we'd be alright, and hum a calming tune. And we stay like that for the next five minutes.

'Luna,', Leo whispers into the night. 'Would you believe me if I told you something crazy?'

'Like what?'

'Like a war against the clock.'

And that's when I knew. Tears start brimming in my eyes as I give out a sigh of relief. 'Like a time loop?', I say as I hug Leo a little tighter. This time I needed one to remind me I wasn't alone. He seems to catch on as well, a sob escapes from him as he melts in. We stay in each other's arms, in each other's comfort - a place where walls were deaf to all the shared secrets, a sanctuary with no limits.

Oh, what I'd do to protect it.

Leo pulls away, his eyes disappear and his lips form into a sheepish grin. His face is puffy from all the crying, but it glows in the soft moonlight. My eyes widen in surprise as he grabs my hand and drags me out the door. I manage to see the clock on the kitchen counter gleaming with a bright '3:15 am.' before blood rushed to my face upon meeting the cold air.

'Where are we going? Are yo- ah it's fucking cold out here!', I complain.

'Ice Cream.' Classic hungry Leo. This boy is a demon.

iii. the twilight hour.

'What's wrong with you?!', I huff as I bend down to catch my breath and hide myself under a tree. Leo, on the other hand, is breathing quite easy, a stupid grin plastered on his face (oh, how I want to punch him). His hands hold up a bag with three tubs of mint chocolate Ice Cream like they're the greatest creation of God. 'Did you really have to steal Ice Cream?! Are you five?', I say as I recall the incident that just took place, how Leo basically ran out the convenience store with the sweet goodies without paying and left me, his dear, penniless (and only) friend as the bait to a potential flat-earther of a cashier (long story, don't ask).

And now we're here, the park I was in the previous hour. There's not a single soul around. The only companion being the moon once again. His smile shines through like the sun, however.

'I'm rweally sowwy, delulu,', he retorts.

'My name is Luna, and no one can ever be as delusional as you, you dill hole.', I say, my ears red.

'Good now, I shalt promoteth thee to 'Deluna'. Thee has't been felicitat'd.'

I click my lips in annoyance. I know quite well that when the clock resets, all the stolen Ice Cream would be back in the freezer. But I try my best to maintain a straight face to show my discontent. That's right Luna, assert your fucking dominance. I notice that his hazel eyes shining with the mischief I'm used to once again. He's back to the loud, obnoxious and teasing Leo he's always been. Leo who's carefree, Leo who's horribly reckless, Leo who finds happiness in uncertainty. My Leo. My lips slowly curl into a smile, and I give in. He's happy, and that makes me happy too. Leo suddenly pulls out his phone.

'Look here, Partner in time.', he says cheekily. I hear a click. My brows wring into discomfort and confusion.

'What? You look pretty in the moonlight.', he states without skipping a beat. There's a million tugs in my stomach, and blood rushes to my bronze skin. Butterflies soon turn into more sinister as I remember our conversation on the phone earlier. My face falls, if only this boy knew what he puts me through. First I'm not good enough, and now I'm pretty? Does he really throw around stuff like that without giving it a second thought? Does he not realize all that he's putting me through?

This is pointless. My feelings for him are pointless. The amount of time I waste on this is pointless. 'Our friendship is pointless.', I say. Regret follows immediately. Leo's face turns grim too; an unreadable expression plastered on his face. I suddenly remember something I jotted down my sociology textbook.

words left unspoken, my hearts screams, my head's in pain, we are in conflict.

Tears well up in my eyes again. This is a conflict, the most peaceful one at that. Terrifying. One that makes you curl into a ball and wish you never existed. One fueled by guilt, by insecurity, by ignorance. I remember the rest of the poem.

one of us was meant to get hurt, almost as though the heavens proclaimed it, on the day of creation. the celestial sky cried tears of gold, for it knew fate was cruel, but humans are crueler.

My hands are getting colder. My breath is hitching as my sobs get louder. Leo rushes towards me and tries to pull me into another hug. As much as I try to resist, he pulls me into his embrace. Fear devours my heart as I realize how I didn't feel at home anymore. I knew this sanctuary was going to break sooner or later. My heart is sick. It pains far too much as it beats in his embrace. Will it stop if I pull away? I try.

It does.

'Luna, what's wrong?!', Leo asks, truly afraid of what was happening.

'Us, Leo. Us.', I reply, voice barely a notch away from a whisper.

'What's wrong with us? We're Leo and Luna! You're the other half of thi-'

'Stop. Please.', I say firmly. My head feels too heavy, my heart too light. The moon shines down on me in its disgusting glory. I can't take it anymore. 'You're the reason I hate the moon, Leo. Because you are the sun. You only shine on me to mock me. To make me feel inferior.'

'What're you talking abou-'

My tongue clicks loudly. 'You're so hypocritical! You're an asshole who makes me feel like I'm the only one in the world, before throwing me out yourself. You make me feel insecure, Leo. I don't feel like I'm myself with you anymore.', I say, vitriol burning my throat. 'You disregard what I feel for you, because I'm the moon. You outcast me, because I'm the moon. You tie me down.

'You remind me of why I'll never shine on my own.'

I look at Leo. His hazel eyes turned dark, head down in shock. There's not a single drop of water in his eyes. He stands under the moonlight in silence. I can hear my heart palpitating.

'Why do you think the Sun shines, Luna?', he whispers. 'Is it to light the day, or to light the night?', he asks, a little louder this time. I open my mouth to answer.

'It's to light the night, Luna.', he interrupts. He knew I'd say neither. The sun shines for himself. He is selfish.

'The sun sheds it's light, because if it didn't, the moon would never-'

'That's exactly the prob-'

'get to see the world.' I stop midway in confusion. What is he saying?

'The sun shines because he wants the moon to see the world, Luna. He shines because if he didn't, the moon would be lonely. He makes sure to shed the perfect amount of light on her, so that she guides the traveler without scalding them, without making them blind.

'If he never shone, he'd have never have found his other half. The sun would have been just as lonely as the moon would have, Luna. The sun and moon are a pair, not because the moon can't shine on her own, but because they are lonely without each other.', Leo says.

And epiphany struck down like lightning. Leo needs me as much as I need him. He'd be just as lonely as I'd been without him. The moon's identity without the sun hadn't ever been her own. It was due to the sun's light she was herself. The sun made her the moon, and the moon made him the sun. They were inseparable, as destiny willed them to be, for they needed each other. For the sun to shine the brightest, and the moon to give comfort. But all that didn't answer why-

'Why did you say I wasn't enough for you?', I say, reminiscing that day in the park. I remember picking out a bouquet of purple lilacs after studying a book about plant symbolism in the library. I spent hours trying to make myself look pretty. I spent a lot of time trying to make up my mind. And everything came crashing down.

'Because you deserve more!', Leo says in defeat, fingers brushing into his hair. 'Do you know how much of a loser I am? You deserve a hunk-a-ilicous person, are you really going to settle for a noodle?!', Leo says, gesturing to his lean figure. As sarcastic as his response seemed, he meant every word of what he said. That's just how Leo is.

'Leo, that's exactly how I've been feeling this whole time.' I pull Leo into a hug.

Leo is no different than I've been my whole life. He's just as insecure and broken as I am, as I've always been. All my life, I'd seen him as a completely different person. We have different hobbies, we have different personalities. But we're still similar in ways that make us, well, us. It's just that our sanctuary needed to break to have it's walls built back stronger. I feel at home again.

'You're more of a sausage though. Alri-ALRIGHT lemme clear up, you're MY sausage okay? The best one in fact, I will use you in all my dishes.', Leo says as I pull out of his embrace and find a stone on the road to attack the disrespectful brat. Leo runs away and makes his way behind the usual Banyan tree at the edge of the park. 'That's literally the worst nickname ever!', I yell as I chase him.

'Mine own dearest sausage I begeth thee to reconsid'r!'

'TRY ME BITCH.'

'Hey, hey wait.', Leo holds down my hands and blocks my attack, and I'm left with no weapon except for the daggers in my eyes I choose to use against him. 'So, what are we now?', he asks.

'We're still Leo and Luna, dumb head.', I say after giving it a thought. Leo opens his mouth to refute, but soon decides against it. I assume he's content with the answer. We were friends, nothing could ever break that. Would we ever be something more? Who knows, maybe we would in the future when we love ourselves a little more, when we're comfortable with who we are, rather than who we're with.

Until then, we are Leo and Luna.

///////------

My eyes flutter open. I am leaning on the trunk of the Banyan tree next to Leo. I find myself in sleepy laughter as I look at his head lodged in between the roots of the tree. And suddenly, I see light in the distance. I immediately wake up from my position near the tree and walk to the edge of its canopy, heart beating in my stomach and look at the sky outside. The dark navy night melts into a light lilac, small streaks of tangerine bordering the the horizon. The birds are beginning to chirp in the trees, though the street lights are still on.

The time loop has stopped.

Meanwhile, Leo had stirred awake. He runs with his eyebrows up in surprise and squeezes the life out of me before his eyes turned dark in fear.

'WE HAVE SCHOOL.', he exclaims. I ignore him, and choose to stare into the sky. I look at the twilight hour. The sun and the moon were side by side, in harmony, like Leo told me. Tears escape my eyes in a sense of accomplishment. I could rest now. I give myself a small hug, and tell myself I'd worked hard. ('LUNA DO YOU REMEMBER THE HAMMURABI CODE.' 'That is not important right now!') The sun rises up, and salvages the few moments he has with the moon. I turn my head to the side and see that the moon looks serene, her light glow slowly fading as she decides to rest too.

But above all, I see that the moon is no longer lonely.

a/n: ahhhh yes if you’ve made it this far, i truly truly appreciate you for reading this, it means a lot to me. the past few days have been a little weird for me, and it took more than just motivation for me to get through writing this. again, thank you to all my beta readers, i really treasure all of you! i’d really love to get an ask about the short story, so if you enjoyed, make sure to send me one! i hope everyone’s staying safe! stay tuned with us because we have another surprise coming soon!

alatcg taglist: @blue-hairbrush, @kaavijournals, @artbyeloquent, @47crayons, @writing-is-a-martial-art

general writing taglist: @shinesundark, @the-writing-avocado, @raenawrites

@original-writing

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anothanobody · 2 years

Note

hey, I just thought of something for the age gap AU.

Mikasa has suitors close to her age (or older), let's just say um... TOO MANY suitors. She has never paid attention to them because they aren't the type of what she is looking for, they don't convince her and they don't even satisfy her when it comes to segs, you know? so she really gets to feel something kinda "special" when she has this... hum... let's say... connection? with eren, that boy younger than her.

However since she feels that it isn't right to continue with whatever she has with him, she forces herself to attend those dates with those men who don't make her feel anything. Meanwhile Eren, he doesn't use the jealousy card to show her that it bothers him (I mean that he doesn't use girls to make her jealous) actually, he will find the way to make her miss these dates. For example, he made his mother give Mikasa more work to keep her in the company so he can see her there or things like that. In case Eren failed and she actually goes on a date with another man, he will get mad enough to fuck her like a beast the next time he sees her and won't let her cum while telling her how ungrateful she is to him, he tells her that while he gives her the best sex she pays him by going off with other jerks.

Kinda long, im soooo sorry:( i hope you can undrrtsan this trash haha btw im your anon eho want to be friend🥺 hope you remember me!

Sorry for the late reply my friend, I was asleep *o*... BUT of course I remember you <3

AND THIS IS GOLD!

Mikasa works in the fashion industry where good looking men are there all the time in any field. But she still cannot get the type of tingling or connection with any of them, and their centric selves make it worse for her to even consider. She's a beautiful woman even though she works behind the scenes and really is wanted by a lot of men.

He does try to sabotage any of her dates, even work meetings, just because he hates to see her with someone else so freely, when they cannot do much even casual talk as it would look suspicious or for Mikasa, extremely unprofessional.

When it's a work meeting, she absolutely cannot miss, he just takes her. He goes to her apartment, leaning dramatically on the side of the wall as he waits for her and when she comes and opens the door, she doesn't get enough time to actually say something, that his lips are pressed on hers and her clothes are being ripped off completely.

Being possessive and shiii, edging her while asking whose pussy is that, or who is the only who can satisfy her, pounding in her till the bed hits the wall over and over, marking her all over so everyone can see that she is his. And like you said, the next time is pure cries of frustrations because he's mad and wants to see her beg for him.

LMAOO I love how possessive Eren for Mikasa, which is every Eren to Mikasa even canon, is always a bit of an asshole XD

But this was good anon! keep it coming if you want, this will be useful if I ever write a fic for it! Thank you <3

#^-^.anon

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doorsclosingslowly · 3 years

Text

Your death is a number but I cannot count that high (10/16)

In which Obi-Wan’s day gets worse. And worse.

Zombie Savage AU | 3k | warnings for body horror, mention of sexual assault

Obi-Wan’s troopers are staying mostly out of sight, aside from the few of them doing key maintenance or still manning the helm to enable quick escape if necessary. He knows they disapprove of the fact that he’s leading Savage Opress, renegade Sith apprentice and apparent undead creature and slayer of uncounted of their brothers and two Jedi, onto their small reconnaissance spaceship. He can’t see them, but he can still feel the worrying glares.

He also knows it’s necessary.

Identifying Darth Sidious is of utmost priority.

For the war effort. For the Republic. For the Jedi Order. For Obi-Wan himself, who’s lost so much to the machinations of this Sith, from Qui-Gon a decade ago to friends and soldiers daily right now.

He doesn’t quite know what breaching into the zabrak’s head will entail, but Obi-Wan will be likely out of commission for some time, which should be much safer on the ship. Plus, they are going to leave Entralla anyway. Once they know who Sidious is, they’ll make for his location posthaste—with an optional detour to Coruscant, should he decide he needs reinforcement. If everyone’s already on board, it will speed up the process. And the zabrak isn’t currently hostile.

He’s following Obi-Wan onto the ship without another word, head slightly bowed and apparently incurious.

He follows him into a small unused cabin.

He stands there, unmoving except for the metal insectoids in his cheek.

“How do you want to do this?” Obi-Wan has always been a courteous host. Even facing the undead creature that watched Satine die, it’s hard to shake the instinct.

Opress glances around the room. Only the wriggling of his cables betrays his nerves—if that is what it means.

“You suggested this. I know the Jedi ways of entering a mind—” in theory, and it was never Obi-Wan’s focus of study, though as unexpectedly easy as interaction with the grunting and brutal Sith is turning out to be, he mustn’t expose any lack of surety without reason— “but I assume you know your own techniques for mindmelding. Your familiarity might make this easier.”

“The cot.” Opress pulls at it until it’s dead center in the small room, then strips off the bedding and tosses it into a corner. “This ship is not earthen, but at least it is currently touching the soil, even if it’s not the soil of… It should be darker here. Can you locate braziers?”

“No.” Open fire? Inside a spaceship cabin? It would take a skilled engineer an hour to even shut off the smoke alarms because they are so elementary for safety.

“Then the electric light will serve in its place,” Opress rumbles. It’s hard to work out whether he’s disappointed. “I will strip—” he touches his shoulder pad, the one that was a clone’s helmet an hour ago, and shies away as if burned— “I will lie down now. You will stand behind my head.”

Obi-Wan follows his direction. The earth, the fire, the dark, and their arrangement—it seems deeply ritualistic, and although the Sith tend towards the dramatic he’s never thought them this primitive. In a less dire situation, this would be interesting.

“You will raise your hands. I will close my eyes.”

From the vantage point right above the supine zabrak, Opress looks even more wretched than he appeared on the battlefield. Occasionally, Obi-Wan can see straight through one of the holes in his chest before thick wriggling cables block his view. The other’s filled with an emitter guard—with Opress’ saber’s emitter guard. His torso is well-covered with junkyard debris, and where skin peeks through armor or trash it only seems slightly discolored. The arms are a different matter: the left forearm is prosthetic, of course, dull and lifeless compared to the rest of him, and the upper arms are sore-ridden and blistering and shiny with blaster burns. There is a deep gash all the way lengthwise down his right forearm, stuffed with crap, and the skin at the edges is swollen and purpling black. Flecks of trash move across the gash restlessly like misshapen ants. Despite Savage Opress’ size, somehow, he looks small.

“And then?”

Ridiculously, Opress looks offended. He rumbles, “You do magic.”

“Magic?”

A deep sigh heaves Opress’ metal-studded chest. His brows bunch. He bites his lip. Then, he rumbles, almost monotonously, “I gave myself up for my brother. Brothers. I am here now, and I will not resist. Picture it. I gave myself up. I will not resist. I paid the price for his life. I offer myself for my brother. I am here, Mother, Your Weapon, and whatever Your magic—"

Obi-Wan almost chokes on his vomit. The acid settles, uncomfortably, in his esophagus. Hunts have been lean recently, and there’s not much more to bring up. What hunts—The acid resists being swallowed because he’s lying down. He’s flat on his back and it’s dark outside his closed eyelids and he is terrified. He can feel the musty air on his bare chest, and he wishes he had something to cover himself. Anything. Only this isn’t what he’s been brought here for, he knows, he will soon be bred and—he’s lucky he still has his skirt. It won’t be long now. Maybe She will accept his lack of experience, and despite the tales She will be gentle. Only some Sisters enjoy causing pain.

It won’t be long, he thinks, trying to swallow back bitter spittle, trying to even out his breaths, it won’t be long, and the green that flashes behind his eyelids and seeps deep into his bones is no more vivid than the stone under his back. It won’t be long. It won’t last. It won’t be long.

He sinks.

He—there was a purpose here. He had a purpose. He is… He is Jedi. He’s Obi-Wan.

He’s Obi-Wan, and he just entered this mind.

This isn’t real, or rather—

It isn’t now.

He needs to find out a way to navigate these memories. Find Sidious. Find the Sith’s face. The fate of the Republic depends upon it. He can’t dwell on these… revelations about Opress, disturbing though they are, for all their sake.

Sidious, Obi-Wan tries thinking. Darth Sidious.

He’s still on the slab.

Savage might not care enough about the other Sith, he decides. This seems like a traumatic memory. Maybe it’s easier to access these, and what did Savage say…? The monster slaughtered him. Killed his brother. Maul’s death.

Maul’s death, he thinks. Maul is dead. Maul gets dismembered. Maul—

The crib is the only thing upright in this room. All other scarce furnishings have been torn asunder, searched and searched and searched and turned over as if something could possibly hide under a thin strip of linen.

The crib is an altar, and he kneels before it. He’s been kneeling for days.

The crib is empty.

He failed.

The baby is gone.

No, that’s not what Obi-Wan needs. Maul is dead. Maul is—

Maul is everywhere here, suffusing the air, a green tether—

Maul is dead. Maul is dead.

“What have they done to you, brother?” Obi-Wan can feel his mouth form the syllables, mournful and hard. “How could anybody do this? Hurt you, brother?”

They left the cave the day before yesterday, and finally, finally the brother in the cargo hold gave in to exhaustion and fell asleep. Finally, finally he can inspect him, from the safety of the door’s window, in bright shiplight.

Maul is on the floor curled into a quarter circle, though it’s obvious he would have taken a fetal position if his body allowed it. His metal arachnid abdomen sticks straight down, awkwardly.

His horns are far overgrown and rough, making him look friendless and undignified, but that’s the least pressing issue.

He’s emaciated.

He only got a few tossed pouches of reconstituted spiced meat because eating too much after starving makes you sick, and he wolfed them down. He emptied the hydrosacks much more carefully, sticking his tongue into the opening after so as not to waste a single drop. Water must have been scarcer than food on Lotho Minor.

Food and drink, that’s all he could give Maul. It’s not all his brother needs: companionship, perhaps, solace and sanity, and above all healing and care. Whoever fitted his grotesque prosthetic held no love at all for Maul, for they did nothing to protect his flesh. Maul’s stomach skin is inflamed all over, in places even gangrenous or with open sores smearing pus and blood all over the floor. It’s a miracle he still lives. But he does.

Someone cut him in half and he lived and someone screwed a spider’s ass into him and he lived and someone cut him and he lived and someone screwed it in and he lived and some monster cut Savage’s little brother in half and—

Maul’s dead, Obi-Wan thinks. Maul’s dead. Maul’s dead.

He’s tiny and feverish, and Savage got him just a fortnight ago and it’s already going wrong, he’ll fail his baby brother and—

I didn’t know, Obi-Wan thinks. I didn’t. But I still need to find—

The crib is empty.

It swings, slightly, in the storms.

The body he wears is sobbing.

Maul’s dead.

Maul is worrying his lip thinking of his brother right this moment in the bright green air—this doesn’t feel like—he’s kneeling in his room, but even knowing he might be able to feel the force connection will not allow him to settle into meditation. Savage is in the grasp of Sidious. Savage has been in his grasp for weeks while Maul idled—this isn’t the Maul of these memories—and any liberation might come too late. If they succeed, which they won’t. But still, his brother—this is real. It’s not a memory. Maul’s alive—his brother survived and Maul tried so hard to keep him and—what did Maul do?!—

Focus. Sidious. Sidious’ face. Maul’s... injury?

He never thought there was anyone more powerful than his brother in the galaxy, and he was wrong. Simple hero worship, he was dimly aware, and gratitude and adoration, and he hadn’t followed Maul for his strength anyway, but still, sometimes, he’d glanced sideways and thought, You could wipe the floor with Master Dooku. If he wanted to electrocute me now, you’d kill him, because I’m with you now. I’m your apprentice. He hadn’t thought, you could take on the Mother. But he also hadn’t not thought it.

The twin disasters against Kenobi hadn’t changed his mind. Kenobi might have had the upper hand those times, but he still was a gnat. Hey what…

He’d thought that there was no-one more powerful than Maul, and he’d been happy. Maul would live. Maul’s alive. Obi-Wan just felt his presence but—

He’d thought that there was none more powerful than his brother.

And then, the monster came.

The monster who stole the toddler Savage should have raised and tortured him instead, who is just as supercilious and cruel and ugly as Savage suspected. He wears a heinous purple hood robe—he’s hiding his face but Obi-Wan needs to see it—and he just kills Miks and Jema. Maul, immediately and obviously terrified, tries to placate him with lies of servitude. Getting smashed against the wall hurts less than hearing Maul call the creep Master.

Distantly, Obi-Wan catalogues the fighting stances used by the body he’s inside and the two others, though focusing mostly on trying to get a clear view of Sidious’ face. That chin seems oddly familiar. Too familiar. Who is… The body—Savage—has other priorities, glancing back and again at Maul. Maul, who has to live. Maul’s unconscious now, and Savage won’t win, but maybe in his struggle and death he will buy enough time for his baby brother to get away—a blurred view of the face but it’s clear enough and—Maul has to get away—Palpatine—the monster whirls around—the Chancellor?!—and pain, pain—the Chancellor—pain—the Chancellor, Obi-Wan left Anakin so often alone with him and the Chancellor is the Sith Lord—pain—the—

Floor, far away, for a minute. Not long left. Only time for—a hand, grasping his, and Maul. Oh, Maul. Oh, brother.

“I am an unworthy apprentice,” ground out with the last of bis breaths. An apology. A goodbye, because he’s leaving Maul here with his old nightmare and if Savage were better, if he were just a little bit better, he could have protected… “I never—”

Maul doesn’t accept. His hand is hot against Savage’s mouth. Savage bites down on reflex and the green light rises—Obi-Wan’s seen too much of this light, what does it mean—the green light rises and Maul forces it deep into his brother, with his own body and his mind unheeding the brutality or material reality, while the vortex of magic swirls and swirls around them. Debris sticks like static to his skin—Obi-Wan can feel it and he can feel Maul giving in to anything that may grant power, and oh, Savage outside these memories is crafted and reinforced with trash and does that mean—the light pulls shrapnel and detritus left on the battlefield inside and forms—and Darth Maul forms an undead behemoth out of the almost-corpse of his brother.

Darth Maul did this.

A technobeast.

That’s what they are called, amalgamations of organic and machine matter.

Obi-Wan read of mechu-deru, and mechu-deru vitae, after the reappearance of dismembered Darth Maul when a sai tok should have ended him. A prosthetic lower body is within the remits of the eccentric darkside art of mechu-deru, but Savage the undead machinistic creature extends far beyond that and into sheer barbarism. Mechu-deru allows its practitioner to understand and influence inanimate and robotic constructs. On the lowest end…

The technobeast.

Metal and flesh intermixed to create a weaponized cyborg. A willing slave.

Darth Maul was willing to lobotomize his own brother.

He made a weapon of his brother.

That Maul could sink so…

And still, pervasively, poor Opress loves him.

Obi-Wan’s seen enough.

He’s seen the face of Darth Sidious—seen Palpatine—and he now knows the true depths of Maul’s depravity. He only has to wake up and inform the Jedi Council now. He must wake up.

He must wake—

A finger touches his forehead. It feels strange, as if his body had never before been touched. He opens his eyes in the dark musty Temple, and soon his eyes land on the Sister who won him. Who will breed him. He wraps his hand around Her neck, and distantly he is surprised both that he is angry—that he dares resist—and that his hand dwarfs her neck, but still he chokes Her and She begs, “Let me go,” but he won’t because he hates Her and then the Mother says, “Calmly, Sister,” and She repeats, “Let me go,” and he stops.

He stops.

Stops.

He stands up.

“Now, for the final test,” She who is Power says.

And They carry in a brother he thinks he should know and She who is Power orders him to kill the brother and, wrapping his hand around another neck and feeling like he should remember every single meal and every hunt and every night and every tear and every word and every laugh they ever shared, he does.

He kills the brother.

It’s Feral.

He killed Feral—

Obi-Wan sicks up his lunch. And his breakfast, for good measure.

“Did you find Sidious?” Opress rumbles from his cot.

He appears completely impassive, as if Obi-Wan hadn’t just seen him mourn the baby he lost and choke another of his brothers to death and skewered through the hearts by Darth Sidious—by Chancellor Palpatine, and they are doomed, doomed, how could this just slip by, how could Obi-Wan entrust his padawan to a monster for hours upon hours, how could the Republic just fall to his sway and if he commands Dooku then what does this mean for the war that has been destroying all of them for years—seen Opress killed by Sidious and then turned into a machine slave by Darth Maul, who’s meant to be Opress’ brother and Obi-Wan always assumed that he felt at least a modicum of comradeship for his kind, but if he’s ready to plumb these moral depths… Maul, who apparently, is also still alive.

It’s a bit much.

Obi-Wan feels faint. He pulls a chair out with the force and sits.

Opress, meanwhile, sits up on his cot. The cables on his chest wave and wrap tightly around him—a sickening testament to Darth Maul’s malice. They jitter. “You—recognized him?” Opress asks.

“I did,” Obi-Wan replies tonelessly. “It’s Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.”

“Good. Where does this Chancellor live?”

“Where does—” Obi-Wan doesn’t have the energy for this. “He lives on Coruscant.”

“Then let us go and kill him.”

“We can’t just kill the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic—” Something dawns upon Obi-Wan. He laughs hysterically. “You have no idea who that is, do you?”

“I don’t.” Savage Opress doesn’t appear any less buoyed by his gross ignorance. Maybe that is a result of the brain damage caused by Darth Maul’s ritual. “It doesn’t matter. I am the last weapon of the Mother. She resurrected me, and I shall avenge Her, and then I’ll die.”

Obi-Wan should probably tell him that Darth Maul used mechu-deru to enslave him and that’s why he’s an undead machine-contaminated monster now. He will. He will, soon, but his first duty is to the galaxy and the Jedi and the Republic, and Sidious is the most dire threat by far. He can’t afford the time to explain what he just found out to this hapless creature, and technobeasts according to the book were renowned for their power. Perhaps Opress will be instrumental in taking down the Sith Lord.

It’s not even deception. A lot of deception, anyway. Opress wants to kill Darth Sidious. That’s why he accosted Obi-Wan. The man killed him, after all. There’ll be time for truth later and—

The comm system whirrs alive. “General, we’re being boarded!”

It turns off, like there’s not even time for another missive.

Kriff.

Who could it be but Sidious?

Obi-Wan hasn’t even commed the Jedi Order.

And if he already found out then…

Obi-Wan sprints towards the door. Opress pushes himself off the cot. The air grows thicker, and thicker, and both keel over.

#savage opress #savage oppress #zombie savage au #dimtraces makes things

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solzubasu · 4 years

Text

{Shigaraki Tomura\\ Alphabet}

I got inspired to make this because of my friend, @knifeewifee. Link to her Twice Alphabet here. I am going to do the man I Simp for, Tomura! I love him so much!

P.S. I finished this around 1 O’clock in the morning, so I was a bit tired. >M<

I hope you guys like it!

NSFW part included :]

SFW -------------------------------------------

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He shows very little Affection. Shigaraki is not a very good affectionate person, since he never did receive affection. So he wouldn’t show his the affection in front of others, besides his S/o.

The way he shows affection, would subtle gestures. Standing beside you, brushes your hair from your face, letting you play games with him. Away from everyone, of course.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He wouldn’t be your friend, he’s your leader, you're his subordinate.

But over time, once he’s used to you being in the League, he’ll start seeing you as a comrade.

Or possibly, more than that...

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He will secretly want cuddles, but he can’t admit that. He a supervillain he can’t have people see him getting cuddled.

But I think secretly when it’s just you and him. He’ll want cuddles, even if he’s the Most Wanted villain in Japan- He loves being cradled in your arms.

(And don’t worry, he has special gloves to keep from disintegrating you)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Settle down? I could imagine it. No, he ain't the type to, he rather be playing video games than maintain a house.

No, cause and point, he ain't cleaning. We’d have to be the ones cleaning up his mess. Dirty laundry, a trash can full of god knows what, dust piles everywhere.

Oh god, who did he kill again...?

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I feel he would break up first, due to his temper and need to accomplish his goal of destroying hero society.

But he would probably be the first to try and get back with you, but knowing himself, he’d probably ruin it. But he’ll try harder to make the relationship work, it’ll take time.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Him? Getting hitched!? Doubt it! But, I feel he would make an exception for you.

It’s all because of this fic.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, He wouldn’t lay his hands on you, he doesn’t want to lose you due to his Quirk.

Emotionally, He can’t understand how feelings work, but he’ll “try” to be there...

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

No, No hugs. He wouldn’t want to hug you, he cares too much about you to lose you.

But once he’s used to you, then he’ll let you hug him, HUGS FOR DAYS! In private of course.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He would not be the first to say it, we would have to be the first to say it.

The only time I feel he would is the moment you two argue to the point where he feels your going to lose him. That’s when he’ll say it, to prove that he car

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He would get really jealous when he sees that anyone is near you, or flirting with you, especially Dabi, He’ll for sure want to kill them. Once he’s gotten you next to him, he’ll make sure to mark, what’s rightfully his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are rough, and not just because of his chapped lips.

Which I don’t mind~

He’ll definitely shove his tongue into your throat.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He wouldn’t be the type to have kids, but if he did, I can only see him having one. That we’d have to raise most of the time

He’d raise them, just like One for All did, but raise them to be his kid/future leader of the PLF. YOU KNOW we’d have to be the driving force of the kids common sense of right and wrong, if not he’ll turn out to be a copy of him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings, I bet He’s either sleeping soundly in your arms, his face snuggled up against your chest. His hands close to him, making sure he doesn’t hurt you accidentally. GOD I’m a sucker for Soft Tomura

He’s been playing video games all night, and he fell asleep on his gaming chair with the headset still on, controller slightly falling from his hand.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He spends most nights, playing video games while you watch him beat the shit outta other gamers.

But if it’s you and him, I imagine a movie marathon of whatever you two enjoy watching together. I can also see both you and him getting into the right cuddle position.

Shh, it’s fine, let him be the big spoon. Just for tonight.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I think the most he’ll open up is, what his favorite video games are what his main goal is, etc.

His darker secrets, he’d probably open up about his past to you, once he is comfortable around you. I wouldn’t see this happening, not until after the Re-Destro fight. I’d say a week or so after the incident.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has no damn patience, He gets angry pretty quickly. You better make sure that you can handle his temper, if not, you better get tough soon.

If you try to get his attention when hes going something, you bet, after 5 pokes to his arm, he’s already agitated.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

Okay- Personally- I see him as the Yandere type and the not-so-good boyfriend card here.

He’ll remember small details like- Your birthday, favorite food, drink, Ice cream, and color, etc.

But what he won’t remember other things like, what you needed him to do, ask him to help you with something. It is, what it is.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite memory is quality time playing video games with you. Even if he wins most of the time, he'll let you win and make up an excuse why he lost

‘My finger just slipped, so shut up..’

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

Very Overprotective, he wants to make sure nothing EVER happens to you. Be it, you hurt yourself, got a cut during a mission, a hero took you as bait. THAT MAN WILL DISINTEGRATE A BOOK IF YOU GOT A PAPER CUT!

Before the PLF, He’d make sure you stayed behind him or just protect yourself you’re strong! After he’s the leader of PLF, He’d have calmed down a bit, after all, he has Villains left and right to lay down their lives to protect you

But in the case of you protecting him, He’d be honored and salty about it, but you both would risk your lives for each other, no way are either of you dying!

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dates are a no go, as much as you’d like to, YOU’RE Villains it isn’t exactly a good thing to be wondering around having a casual night out.

He would celebrate small birthday parties (Including his own). Anniversary, he would want to spend his time alone with you inside his room.

JK, he’d want the two of you to spend time away from the LOV/PLF he’d probably make a romantic dinner, hey, we all dream about it!

Gifts, really hard to get before the PFL, but he isn’t the most thoughtful person, in a sense of giving things. He takes things, not give things!

Cleaning his room is like the worst! But he tries since he wants you to be happy and comfortable when you’re there with him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Playing Video games all night, Dirty laundry Is that a sock...? NOPE!

He yells a lot, so you’ll have to get used to that...

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I feel he wouldn’t care what he looks like.

But after meeting you- The one person he loves -He would start looking at his complexion.

Seeing all the imperfections throughout his face and neck. He would start to hate himself, more than he does now.

But after reassuring him, that you love him, no matter what he looks like, he’ll start wanting reassurance every now and then.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

At first, he wouldn’t think that he was incomplete because of you. It would be more of, his goal, to destroy hero society.

‘I want to ride the world of these heroes... I hate this world..’

Over time, once he’s with you, he knows that if you ever left his side, he wouldn’t want to live in a world, with you in it.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Cuddles, You cannot convince me otherwise, that he does not! Like- once he’s in your arms, as you slowly caress his soft greasy locks. He’s hooked!

He is the smol spoon, but he can be the big spoon from time to time.

The reason why, your heartbeat, it calms him down takes his mind off his troubles for the days ahead or the stress of the day.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Honestly, I think he wouldn’t dislike a lot of things, but I do know he’d hate girly things, anything cute.

In a partner, someone that pesters him too much, probably one that cries a lot of Tears are his weak point.., other than that he’s fine with other aspects.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Definitely cuddling up to you, sure he’s a big bad villain, but he wants to cuddle. At the same time, knowing he could hurt you while sleeping makes him anxious.

But don’t worry he has gloves, and he makes sure that you’re holding him. As he has his hands between his chest, while he snuggles up to your chest. Hearing the steady beat of your heart makes everything worth it.

One thing I have known, that Horikoshi has shown us is, Tomura sleeps standing up. If I saw someone standing up, in the middle of the night, right next to my bed. I’d scream.

Click to continue for the NSFW part

NSFW -----------------------------------------

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I bet this man makes you clean after yourself, cause he ain’t cleaning you.

Only when he’s done something wrong, and he’s fucked you to make it up to you, will he be gentle, but make a confused face and he’ll become a tsundere. Blushes pretty hard when he’s being gentle with you, good thing he puts Father on his face.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s into butts when you walk in- He’s always staring through his father’s fingers just to get a peek of those curves. Like-

When you walk in front of him, he’s stares too long, that he starts getting a boner, and then to turn around- He’s gone to take care of his erection.

C = Cum(Anything to do with cum, basically)

This man will use you like a fucking cum dumpster he gives no shit if you’re body is covered in his seed.

He loves it when he’s cummed in your mouth, once he’s blown his load.

When he tells you to show him, his cum drips down your chin, you bet he’s ready to make more right then and there.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly, wants to get Dominated by you.

Of course, he’s never going to say that, he wishes it, as much as he wants you to use him until he’s a whining mess.

Teasing, and overstimulation, he wants it. Never admits it until after you’ve done this to him. (Like, three-four times)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

The first time he was going to have sex with you (or the first time EVER), he’ll act like he knows how to have sex.

Trust me he has no fucking clue how to fucking have sex, which is cute.

If you know how to have sex, you're going to fucking Dom him the first time.

If you don’t, he’ll Dom you (unless you’re a top).

Once he’s had more experience, you bet he’s a monster in the bedroom! He wants to try EVERYTHING, he’s going to make sure that he’s satisfied.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Mating press, he wants to make sure to reach the deepest part of you, seeing your Ahegao face when he hits your pleasure point.

Hot seat, (OH is this one is nice!) If he’s in a meeting, and he’s fucking horny, he doesn’t give two shits if you bare ass naked in front of others. He’s just showing others what’s his, he’s horny, and you better act accordingly to his needs.

Downward dog, He wants to make sure to plow deep into you, making you moan, and whine for more.

Orgasmic penetration, He loves to fuck you if you become a brat. Laying your stomach on top of a surface. His figure looming over you as he fucks you slutty hole makes him more aroused.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

I feel there are more serious moments, then goofy ones during sex.

The times that are goofy, is when he’s ready to get his dick wet.

For Females, when he’s thrusting his dick fast and deep, he’s so in ecstasy that when your pussy ‘Toots’ he stops slowly.

For Males, when he’s grinding on your ass, he’ll think his dick will go in with ease. The boy is he wrong, his dick is trying to g in, but damn is your ass tight.

By the end of both, he’ll feel flustered? Angry? Embarrassed? Defiantly.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes for sure, hasn’t shaved in his life. barely maintains his actual hair, so not well-groomed.

I can see his pale blue hair, thin from his belly button, going to a thick little bush above his dick.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He wouldn’t think about it so much during sex, unless you reach up to touch his cheek, sweep his hair so he can see you, kiss him sweetly. He’ll start to be more “romantic”.

He’ll call you names like: “Baby, Babe, My Future Queen (In my opinion), and Player Two”.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

Takes your underwear, he is a nasty freak I love him either way, He’ll lick, sniff, and rub that cloth all over his dick, once he’s done, he’ll put it in your drawer

He’ll masturbate in your room, everything in there will be used; Pillows for humping material, your clothes as aroma arousal, and your bed full of stains of “Unknown” origin.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding, he’d never want you to get pregnant, but he want to hear you beg him to fill you to the brim with his thick, hot load inside of your womb.

Chocking, he loves chocking (not with all five fingers), but the feeling of you begging him to chock you, makes him excited.

Cum, he wants to cum on, in, and make you a slut for his salty cum, you could say, sip sip, “I love your juicy cum Tomura~” and he’d gladly give you more, you filthy slut~

Orgasm denial, loves it when he/you get really into sex, and either of you are denied, once he/you are able to finally cut that tension, oh how good is the pleasure of that sweet release. Makes both of you taste that sweet moment of ecstasy.

Exhibitionism, he loves having sex where people can see him claim you, and gets an ego boost when it usually Dabi, or a love rival of his. He doesn’t care if your uncomfortable with you being exposed like that, your tight little ass/pussy tells him something entirely different.

Sadist, you could be his M for his S, cause this man want you to beg 72 hours, not 24, for him to fuck you senseless. He makes you bend knee for him.

Somnophilia, your not even safe when your sleeping. If you’re asleep, while wear either one of his black hoodies, boxers, bra and panties, or nothing, pray to All Might that he won’t be too rough. (Sorry, your not..)

Virgin kink, if you are a woman, JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL. This man loves to have sex with you while your menstrual cycle is happening. Loves to say things like. ‘You like that? You filthy little virgin?! How do you like my cock taking your virginity?! Does it feel good?! Huh?!’

L = Location (Favorite places to do they do)

Meeting rooms, he likes showing your body off, everyone needs to remember who you REALLY belong to.

Bedroom, you have more private sessions and access to more toys in there.

Out in the open, let it be while in a mission, or in front of you family, this man has no limits to how dirty he can be.

And I’m here for it!~

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Booty shorts, without a doubt. when you sway or walk past him, you bet he gets a boner, along with Dabi, who gets a death glare from Tomura. XD

Making innuendos, if you give him any explicit sign of wanting some Alone time, you have him around your little finger, or your around his cock.~

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Honestly, I can’t see him disliking to many things.

He is into every filthy thing, no matter what it is, as long as he’s done it once.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, Etc.)

Loves getting Oral sex, he loves getting head from you. No matter where it is, what time of day it is, he wants to see you have his cock shoved down your throat.

I feel if he gives Oral it’ll be messy.

Male, he won’t be able to shove it down his mouth, but he’ll do his best if you encourage him, or insult him that he can’t do it. He’ll tease the sac very well~

Female, he’s going to shove his damn tongue into that tight little cunt, he’ll miss the clit entirely, unless you tell him to tease it with his tongue r his fingers.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Oh boy, is he a rough/fast pace kind of man.

He can be slow if he Tries to be romantic, he’s still rough but he can be slow.

Making you beg for faster him to go faster, which of course

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

These are during missions when you two haven’t had sex in a while.

Quickies are the best ones, especially when it comes to showing other people that want you. and show them who you belong to. Cough couch Dabi cough cough.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

Well since he doesn’t wear condoms, you are at risk for some things.

Males, AIDS, and HIV.

Females, Pregnancy, STD, and HIV.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

First time, at least two-to-three times.

After you two have had sex more, OH BOY, he can go for at least four-to-ten rounds, depending if he’s had a enough or just wanting

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

For sure, most of this was obtained by stealing or using Re-Destro’s money.

A vibrators, ball gag, some S&M goodies, and plugs.

Defiantly has a fucking machine.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He loves teasing the crap out of you, let it be using his fingers, dick, tongue, toys, and teeth. He’ll make sure to make you beg and whine under his touch, His deadly, touch.~

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a medium, He’s loud when he wants to be, but he’s also soft.

Loud, He grunts and yells, ‘Fuck, God damn, So fucking tight, Shit, Etc.’ in my opinion, he just wants to get more fucking pleasure

Soft, muffed whimpers, he can’t help but want to feel release, but he wants to make sure that your the only one to hear those whimpers of wanting release.

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

Like I said before, in his mind, he would loved to be Dominated.

Once you know, he’ll try to deny it as much as he can, but it’s too late.

He is DEFIANTLY a brat, that needs to be tamed by you, teach him to use the proper name he should call you, (For me, a female) Master~

He gets turn on by it so much, that when you tease him, by calling him a “naughty little brat”, he’s wanting you to fuck him.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Depending on what your wearing he’ll think of many things.

Baggy shirts, hoodies, T-shirt and shorts; he wants to imagine that you have nothing under those, he just wants to rip them off of you to see if his hypothesis is correct.

Tight clothes, skimpy outfits, leggings; He’s thinking of what of undergarments you have, some really sexy ones, or nothing at all.~

Casual clothes, he wants to imagine a plug inside of you, some nipple clips, some thick anal beads, and small vibrator (He’s waiting for you give him the remote for it).

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very, VERY, high this guy hasn’t had sex, so once he’s had a taste.

GOD. DAMN. HE. DOESN’T. WANT. TO. MISS. OUT. EVER.

If your horny, and he’s not, it’s easy to get him going.

If HE’S horny, he’s having sex there and now.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

I know we’d probably pass out after that rough sex session.

I think he’ll ask to be in your arms, but depending on his stamina.

Low stamina, he’ll fall asleep within 10 minutes, shoves his face into your chest, cuddles the shit outta you. He doesn’t even bother to pull out.. (Hope you guys did do his breeding kink..)

High stamina, he stays up for another 30 minutes, this is where he shows his softer side, he’ll make sure that your asleep. Caresses your head and kisses you, before he get in the bed with you.

This is canon, no matter what, he is soft when it’s just you and no else.

#tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #charater alphabet #sfw #nfw #i love this crusty man #i simp for this man

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

draft number 34 for @winged-fool @insidious-intent and @lire-casander! this got away from me and turned into something else whoops

warning: suicidal thoughts & terminal illness

ao3

“Alex, you need to talk to them.”

“No.”

Kyle sighed, trying not to show how badly he was hurting for his friend. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but Alex was really fucking sick. An un-fixable level of sick. Kyle just had to watch as he laid up in bed and let it happen.

“You’re going to regret it,” Kyle tried again. Alex shook his head, wincing as he curled further into himself. He refused to tell him exactly what was wrong, only that he had limited time left. To say it was infuriating was an understatement.

“I said all I wanted to say to them,” Alex told him, “Can you get me water please?”

Kyle sighed, “Yes. But please think about talking to them.”

Four months prior, Alex had gotten drunk during a friendly brunch and basically destroyed his relationship with everyone. Kyle was the only one who stuck around because, well, Alex had insulted them with the truth. Kyle couldn’t blame Alex for getting fed up and calling people out on their shit. Maria did backstab him, Michael did ignore his feelings, Liz did choose favorites, Kyle did put his father in a coma that he woke up from. Alex was right.

The place where Alex went wrong was refusing to even try to reconcile whenever they were still all working on the same goal. Maybe they didn’t try either, but it still caused a lot of problems.

Kyle brought Alex a glass of water and pills for the pain. Ever since Alex had accepted his “fate”, he became willing to take whatever would make him get through the day without feeling like complete trash. Kyle helped him take a sip and brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead.

“I wish you’d let me help you,” he sighed. Alex shrugged slightly.

“You are helping.”

“Keeping you comfortable is not helping,” Kyle said, “I don’t even know what’s wrong with you. Have you even been to see a doctor? How do you know for sure it’s fatal?”

Alex looked up at him, eyes bloodshot like they always were these days. His face was sunken in, his face was pale, and, beneath his baggy clothes and blankets, his body was rail thin. His symptoms didn’t match anything Kyle knew–or, rather, they matched too many things. Weak, coughing, loss of appetite, hair loss, trouble breathing, aching muscles, loss of hand-eye coordination, dizzy spells, fatigue, vomiting. He just had fucking everything and it was destroying him.

“I don’t need a doctor to know what it is and that it’s fatal,” Alex told him. Which, to his credit, was the most he’d ever said about his ailment.

“Alex, if there’s some way to stop this then–”

“There isn’t,” he said as firmly as his body would allow, “Promise.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Alex,” he admitted. Alex swallowed and took a heavy breath.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

He didn’t know how to quite articulate just how not bothered he was by taking care of him, so he didn’t. He just let him fall asleep and stayed at his bedside.

“Kyle.”

Kyle glanced up and saw Michael trying and failing to pretend this was an accidental run-in. He’d seen the alien leaving the coffee shop next door before spotting him and then magically appearing in the grocery store with him.

“What’s up?” Kyle asked, trying to act like he wasn’t frustrated. But he was.

He wanted to grab Michael, throw him in the car, and force him to talk to Alex. He knew that if Alex died and the last thing he said to Michael was “funny that you never wanted to settle down until it was specially designed to ruin my life, can’t wait for your children to haunt me”, then he’d regret it. He didn’t want Alex to die with regrets.

He didn’t want Alex to die.

“Um,” Michael started, clenching and unclenching his fists as he looked around, “This is gonna sound weird, but is Alex okay?”

“Why would that sound weird?” Kyle asked slowly. Michael gave him that look that said ’you know why’. Kyle rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just come see for yourself?”

Worry creased in Michael’s forehead and he stepped closer.

“What’s going on Kyle? Something feels off, I can’t pinpoint it, but something’s wrong,” he said. Kyle just stared blankly at him then gestured towards the shopping cart.

“I’m doing his grocery shopping. You can come with me back to the cabin if you’d like.”

“He’s not staying at home?” Michael asked, but quickly shook his head, “He doesn’t want to see me, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong, he refuses to say,” Kyle sighed. Michael seemed to get even more concerned.

“Well, what the fuck does that mean?”

“You can just see for yourself if you go see him,” Kyle insisted. Michael looked conflicted, pained even. “I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Michael repeated, “He made that pretty clear last time we spoke.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Look, Alex was drunk and just letting it out. I’m sure he didn’t mean to never see you again after he blew up at brunch,” he insisted. Michael looked at him in confusion.

“No, I meant when I spoke to him last month,” Michael said, “He didn’t tell you? I thought he told you everything now.”

Kyle tilted his head to the side and was ready to go yell at the dying liar.

“What exactly did he say?”

“Alex, I cannot believe you.”

Kyle felt a little bad as he walked into the bedroom and saw him throwing up into the bucket at his bedside. When he stopped, he sunk into the bed looking even worse than he did that morning. He wheezed with every breath, but he still looked at Kyle like he was itching for a challenge.

Kyle was terrified for the day that fight left him.

“I ran into Guerin. He said he tried to talk to you a month ago,” Kyle said, trying his best to keep his voice calm, “Why the hell did you tell him you didn’t love him and didn’t want to see him again? Why lie about that?”

Alex shrugged before quickly sneezing and then groaning because the motion of the sneeze hurt his body. Kyle grimaced and had to take a moment to gather himself. He hated this. This was the worst fucking thing he’d ever gone through.

“Alex,” Kyle started again when it became clear that Alex wasn’t going to answer, “Why’d you say that to him? If you’re so sure you’re going to die, don’t you want to see him?”

Alex frowned and shook his head. “It’s better this way.”

“How?”

“I’d rather go with him thinking we fell out of love than him feel guilty,” Alex said, melting a little more into his bed. Kyle knew he only admitted that because he was on painkillers. However, one part of that definitely stood out to him.

"You were sick a month ago?” Kyle asked, voice as controlled as he could be. That was the only way to get information from a not-entirely-coherent Alex Manes.

“No,” Alex hummed, “But I knew I would get sick.”

Kyle was frozen for a moment, just staring as Alex just started to go to sleep. He let him go to sleep because he needed and then promptly left the room. He knew he was going to get sick. How the hell did he know that? And if he did, why didn’t he do something to stop it?

Against his better judgment, Kyle picked up his phone and called Liz.

“Is there a chance it’s alien?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Kyle sighed, “But maybe. I mean, it doesn’t seem like anything I’ve seen before. Maybe he was messing with something he shouldn’t have? Or found something toxic in the files? He refuses to talk about it.”

Liz pouted as she stared at Alex’s sleeping form. He’d been sleeping a lot more in general, but the last two days he’d been sleeping almost as much as a newborn. It was scaring Kyle more than he wanted to admit. Because knowing Alex was going to die and watching him lose the fight were two very, very different things.

“When he wakes up, he’s going to be so pissed I called you,” Kyle said. Liz gave him a concerned look.

“Does he hate us that much?”

“No, as far as I can tell, he didn’t make a point to make up with anyone because he didn’t want any of you to care when he’s gone,” Kyle said. Liz gave a hurt noise in response and looked over at him. “But, honestly, did any of you reach out to him?”

Liz didn’t answer right away, still staring at Alex’s form. He was pale and sweaty, but he still was covered up with more than a few blankets. Kyle could hear his heavy breathing from across the room. He didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“Have you taken blood? Tested it? Anything?” Liz asked instead. Kyle sighed and shook his head.

“He won’t let me.”

“Well, fuck, do it anyway. We can’t just let him die, Kyle.”

“I’m not forcing medical examinations or treatments on him, Liz. I’m the only one he hasn’t pushed away, so I’m not doing anything to make him hate me too,” Kyle told her. She looked at him, desperate for him to do something. He couldn’t. “I only called you to see if you could help me research for what it could be. Maybe he’ll let me do something if I can give him proof of a cure. I’m not asking you to force anything on him.”

“Okay,” Liz agreed, “We’ll search for a cure.”

“Alex?”

Alex gave a lopsided smile from his place in bed, trying his best to sit up in bed. Kyle walked over and helped him, making sure the tubes providing him oxygen didn’t get tangled up. They’d reached a level of friendship they couldn’t really go back on and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Kyle told him. Alex furrowed his eyebrows, hands shaking as he tried to sit up without Kyle’s help. Kyle still pulled a pillow behind him for support. “It’s Liz.”

“What?” Alex asked. Liz popped her head in the doorway, smiling. Alex looked up at Kyle and then back to her, letting out a weak noise of discontent from all the movement. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Liz said sweetly, walking further into the bedroom, “How are you?” Alex stared blankly at her. “Right.”

“Liz came and she’s helping me look through files to try and figure out what might be wrong with you,” Kyle said. Alex started to shake his head in protest, but Kyle leaned closer to him. “We found something.”

“Stop,” he said weakly, “I don’t want it.”

“You don’t want to get better?” Liz clarified. Kyle ignored them both.

“The first tests from 1948 have notes of humans getting fatal illnesses two weeks after coming into contact with what I can only assume was originally a vaccine for an illness on their planet or maybe even something they took to help keep them safe from illnesses on ours. They never found a cure, they just locked up the rest of the substance,” Kyle explained. Alex seemed to sink further in bed. “Did you find it?”

Alex was silent for a moment, letting the air feel painfully heavy. Eventually, he sighed.

“I didn’t know what it was. It has a psychic ability to make you want it, probably to help kids not be scared to take it,” Alex said, taking a heavy breath in between every bundle of words, “That and there was already a needle on the vial. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Alex,” Kyle breathed, shaking his head in disdain, “Why didn’t you just tell me? I could’ve-”

“There is no cure. They revisited it before the initial shut down of Project Shepard. They all died, slow and painful deaths. It just happens. No point in fighting it,” Alex said. All the talking had him winded and exhausted again. Kyle shook his head.

“Yes, there is a point. I don’t want you to die,” Kyle said out loud, firmly.

“And this is basically my specialty,” Liz jumped in, “I wish I would’ve had an earlier warning, but I can still try. I don’t want you to die either, Alex. We all love you.”

“I’m tired,” Alex said, refusing to entertain them.

“Alex,” Kyle tried again.

“Stop,” Alex said with the most force he’d had in days, “I don’t want you wasting your fucking time. Leave me alone.”

“Saving your life isn’t a waste of time!” Liz argued.

“Yes, it is.”

They both stared at Alex for a few more minutes, but when he said he was tired, he meant it. He was asleep inhumanly fast and Kyle felt sick. He looked at Liz and they both seemed to decide on something, both of them leaving the room at the same time.

“I’m gonna find what’s left of that serum and we’re going to save him,” Kyle said.

“Agreed.”

“What are you doing?”

Kyle looked up to see Michael hovering in the doorway, clearly being nosey as ever. They shared a look before looking back to Michael.

“Trying to save Alex,” he admitted. Michael’s face went through a sea of emotions. “Yeah, well, you should’ve come to see him when I ran into you last week.”

“What?” Michael asked cautiously, trying to process what was being said, “Is it bad?”

“Yeah,” Liz admitted. Michael stood there for a few more minutes, eyes and face blank like he’d just checked out of the situation. They both stared at him for a moment, letting him look more and more lost with each second.

And then he bolted.

“Should I go after him?” Liz asked. However, there was the sound of his truck starting up.

“He and Maria broke up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then no, let him go.”

They were silent for a few hours, still tinkering. They’d been working basically around the clock for the last week, trying to find something as fast as possible. Alex was deteriorating faster each day. It was painful to watch and Kyle was getting more terrified that they weren’t going to find something in time.

“Wait, wait, Kyle, come here,” Liz said, ushering him over. Kyle peered into the microscope to see what she found. “Look, it stopped spreading! It’s been 24 hours with that serum and it stopped spreading!”

“And if we get it to stop spreading in Alex, his body might have a chance at fighting,” Kyle went on.

“And it’ll buy us time to find a legit cure!” she finished, grinning wildly and proud. He could’ve kissed her right then.

“Let’s go.”

Alex couldn’t move.

His body was weak and it was a pain in the ass to breathe, but he was doing it. It was really weird knowing you were out of time and really weird feeling your body slowly shut down. Sure, it wasn’t a new feeling to Alex, but this was the first time he didn’t feel the need to get better. He was content curling up in bed and letting it happen. He did like it better when Kyle was around, though. You know, as long as he wasn’t nagging.

But then a new voice entered the cabin.

“Alex?” Michael called.

Alex’s mind willed him to cover up more, but his body wouldn’t listen. So, instead, he laid there like an embarrassment, heaving each breath as Michael appeared in front of him. He didn’t say anything. Alex didn’t want him to. He just wanted him to leave. Why did he have to make this harder than it needed to be?

“Oh my God, Alex,” Michael whispered, cautiously reaching out to touch him. Part of Alex wanted to move away, but when his warm hand rested on his cheek, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather feel before he died.

Michael kept saying his name in all different tones, all different emotions. It was something he didn’t know he wanted. Why was he sweet now?

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come see you earlier. I’m so sorry,” Michael gushed. Alex just closed his eyes and sort of wished he would leave. He hadn’t come earlier. There was a reason for that. They weren’t together and he didn’t want Michael feeling guilty. He was tired of making Michael upset.

With all the energy he could muster, Alex said, “Leave.”

Michael immediately shook his head and moved to sit on Alex’s bed.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore. No more pushing each other away, right?” he said softly, running his hand through Alex’s hair. Alex sucked in another breath and he was so fucking tired. “Can I lay with you for a little while?”

Alex didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to say anything even if he wanted to. And, right now, he was sort of okay with Michael just laying with him. If he wasn’t going to leave, might as well be selfish, right?

Michael lowered himself as carefully as possible, making sure not to interfere with the wires that were keeping Alex comfortable. He laid beside him and slowly, carefully tried to cuddle up against him. Alex couldn’t really make an effort on his own, but he could rest his head on Michael’s bicep. Michael reached out and let his arm gently rest over Alex’s thin torso.

“You’re gonna get better,” Michael whispered, “And then we’re gonna work out together so you can get your abs back.” Alex managed a tiny smile that didn’t last too long, but it seemed to suffice.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

“Guys!”

Kyle and Liz both ran into Alex’s cabin and into his bedroom as fast as they could, seeing both men asleep in Alex’s bed. Kyle gave a silent thanks to Michael for clearly doing something right for once in his life. At the commotion, Michael sleepily raised his head.

“We think we found something that’ll stop the spread of the poison in his bloodstream,” Liz said to him, “Wake him up.”

Michael still seemed out of it, but he nodded and shifted slowly so he wouldn’t hurt him. Alex had ended up morphed into his side and it was the most at peace Kyle had seen him in days. Michael touched his cheek.

“Alex,” he called softly, trying to just sweet-talk him awake, “You gotta wake up, okay?” A few more seconds of him being calm passed before it became clear that Alex wasn’t waking up. “Alex? Alex, c’mon.”

Kyle all but jumped onto the bed, trying not to be too harsh as he moved Michael out of the way to check out Alex. He quickly felt for a pulse and found it was super faint along with the fact that he was barely breathing. They had to do something now.

“Okay, fuck, okay, Liz, we need to give him the serum right now and then follow it up with a steroid shot,” he said, “Michael, my bag is in the other room and I have a bottle of dexamethasone, get that for me with a needle and gloves.”

“Wait, do you know how that’s going to interact with the serum or are you just fucking guessing?” Michael asked, panic on his face. Kyle almost kicked him out of the bed.

“I don’t have a choice, I’m trying to save his life,” he said. Michael huffed a breath but ran to do as he was told.

Liz gave Kyle hand sanitizer which he used quickly before accepting the gloves that Michael had given him in record speed. He cleaned off a patch of Alex’s skin with an alcohol wipe and then promptly injected the serum into his bloodstream. A few seconds later, he did the same with the steroid, massaging the injection points and waiting for Alex to wake up. He knew it wasn’t going to make a massive difference, but he could handle it as long as he was awake.

“Get me an oxygen mask,” Kyle directed, moving his fingers to find Alex’s pulse. It was a little stronger, but not as strong as he wanted. Once the mask was hooked up, he removed the cannula from Alex’s nose and put the mask over his face.

“Now what?” Michael asked.

“Now we wait,” Kyle answered.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we try again.”

Alex opened his eyes slowly.

“Hey,” Liz said, her face hovering over his with a wide smile, “Welcome back.”

“What’s going on?” he groaned, his body aching when he tried to move. Still, he felt more rested than he’d been in a while. In fact, as sore as he was, he felt stronger than he remembered.

“Well, you’ve been asleep for a week,” Liz told him, “But it’s a good thing. It gave your body a lot of time to fight the poison in your bloodstream.”

“Fight it?” Alex repeated. She smiled even wider.

“Yep. I came up with a serum to make it stop spreading, so your blood cells got to work. I’ve still been looking for a cure, but you’re getting better every day,” she said proudly. Alex shut his eyes and tried not to be angry at her for doing exactly what he told her not to. “Don’t get mad, you didn’t sign a DNR.”

“I should’ve,” he said. She frowned at him, but she tried to cover it up. It didn’t work.

“Look who’s here,” she said instead of continuing that conversation, sounding like she was talking to a child as she gestured beside him. He turned his head slightly to see Michael passed out on the pillow beside him. “He’s been awake for like a week making sure you were still breathing, so I didn’t wanna wake him up when you started to.”

“Alex,” Kyle’s voice suddenly said. Alex lifted his head just a little to see the doctor himself sighing a breath of relief. He came over and hugged him incredibly tight. “For future reference, you’re not allowed to die on me.”

“Yeah, well,” Alex sighed, his eyes drifting back to Michael.

“How are you feeling?” Kyle asked, doctor mode replacing the friend mode he’d greeted him with.

Alex just relaxed and let Kyle check over him, continuously looking over to Michael. He remembered him coming over, but the whole situation was blurry. He didn’t remember if they talked at all. He didn’t really remember talking to anyone about anything, honestly. He just remembered wanting to be left alone so he could die in peace and now…

Tears pricked his eyes involuntarily as he realized he went through all that bullshit for nothing. They just brought him back to feel good about themselves and now he was going to be back to square one. He finally had an out and they took that away. Why couldn’t they just let it end?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kyle asked. Alex swallowed hard and looked up, trying not to cry. “Alex?”

“Why couldn’t you just let me die? I told you not to find a fucking cure, I told you I didn’t want it,” Alex told him. Kyle blinked in surprise and Michael shifted beside them.

“Alex,” Liz started.

“No, I said I didn’t want it and you did it anyway. I was done, I left things how I wanted, and instead, you brought everyone into my home and made them cure me. I wanted to go on my terms. Why couldn’t you fucking respect that?” he asked, voice straining. Liz and Kyle both just stared at him like deers caught in headlights. “Why are you all so fucking selfish?”

“Are you saying forcing me to watch my best friend die wasn’t selfish?” Kyle asked him.

Alex took a deep breath, his lung burning just a little. He felt tired all over again.

“Yeah, maybe, I’m sorry. But you wouldn’t leave me alone even when I tried to push you away,” Alex said. Kyle stared at him for a minute before nodding.

“Okay,” he said, “When you get better, I think we should look into admitting you into a place that can help you.”

“What?” Alex snapped. Or, tried too.

“Alex, this was almost a suicide attempt. You’re literally telling me that you wanted to die. You need to get help,” Kyle said sternly. Alex didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t tell him that he was wrong. Instead, Alex closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. He just wanted to be asleep. “Okay. We’ll talk when you’re stronger.”

Pretty soon, two pairs of feet exited the room and left him alone. Sort of.

“Do you really wanna die?” Michael asked softly, childishly.

Alex looked over at him, his eyes wide and scared despite the dark circles beneath them. Alex sighed and Michael scooted closer. He just wanted to go to sleep.

“You can’t die, Alex,” Michael said, “I’d miss you.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t miss me until you felt guilty, so.”

“That’s not true. I missed you every day, but I thought you didn’t want to see me again. If I knew… If I knew how you were feeling, I would’ve stuck around,” Michael said. Alex stayed silent. “If you die, I’ll never get a chance to make it up to you. None of us will.”

“What makes you think you can?”

Michael scooted a little bit closer and rested his cheek on Alex’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. But you gotta let me try. For that to happen, you gotta get help.”

Alex sighed and stupidly let himself enjoy the feeling of Michael’s breath on his skin. He felt like he always just let this bullshit happen. Michael claimed that he was the one being pulled back and forth, but he didn’t seem to realize his own magnetic fucking qualities.

“Okay, fine, I’ll get help.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief and scooted even closer, pressing his face into the crook of Alex’s neck.

Maybe he could find a reason to stay alive a little longer.

#malex #malex fic #alex & kyle #alex & kyle fic #roswell new mexico #my fic

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hongism · 4 years

Text

finding beauty in your darkest places chapter 7

Pairing: TBA (i have no clue at the moment, ot7 for now)

Genre: Psychiatric Clinic!au, Heavy Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 8K

Warnings: this chapter deals with thoughts and feelings of self-loathing, self-hatred, and discussions of suicide and suicidal thoughts. strong language; deals with mental and emotional illnesses and disorders as a heavy theme of the story, future graphic depictions of disorders - please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable

Rating: PG-13/Mature

Summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there.

aka

Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn't work out according to his plan.

a/n:

6 | 7 | 8

Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places

Chapter 7: Of Winning and Losing

“You know what they say about hope. It breeds eternal misery.”

At the first clinic Jungkook resided in, one of his fellow patients had blessed him with that bit of wisdom. A girl, younger than him yet much wiser and far more mature than anyone else her age, who always smiled and tried to help everyone except herself. Jungkook remembers reading a book about clinics prior to arriving to his first one, and that girl reminded him so much of a character within the book that he almost thought he was living in the pages for a moment. Yet, as time went by, the girl with endless hope turned dark, and a few days prior to her departure from the world, she shed those words of wisdom on Jungkook. For the longest time, he refused to believe what she said, but now he fully understands what she meant.

The black leather of the boxing bag is rough under his knuckles, and even though he has his hands wrapped, the sting is still present on his skin. The method of distraction is doing nothing for his mind, because with each punch thrown, he recalls the conversation he shared with Taehyung a mere three days ago as though it just happened. Funny how the mind chooses to remember some things so well that it feels as though he’s reliving the moment over and over again.

“Is it all true?”

“Wh-what are y-you asking me?”

“Is what you wrote true? Hoseok? Is that what really happened last night? And Y/N? Is anything you wrote about her true? Does she...she can’t possibly believe those things about herself, right? Tell me it’s not true. Please tell me that it’s not true.”

“I-I...it’s not my place to say, Taehyung. I c-can’t—she would be furious if she found out that you know. She told me not to tell anyone and I—”

The journal had hit Jungkook squarely in the chest, Taehyung’s aim impeccable, and it struck with enough force to push Jungkook back a few inches.

“Stop lying! Ever since you got here, things have gone to shit! And now you’re making everything worse with this journal, and that’s not fair! Please, just tell me the truth.”

“You already know…it’s all in the journal. If you read it all, then you already know.”

“No, no, no. I need to hear it to believe it. Just because you wrote it doesn’t make it true.”

“It’s all true.”

Jungkook couldn’t look at Taehyung’s face as he said the words, too afraid to see an expression of heartbreak and betrayal there.

“All the things I wrote there are things I’ve heard from other patients or things I know about other patients. But Taehyung, I’m begging you please, please, you can’t say anything to anyone about this. Please keep it a secret. No one else can know about it. Please—”

“How the hell am I supposed to carry on as though nothing’s changed? Everything you wrote is life-changing. I can’t look at Hoseok the same way after reading all that. And I definitely can’t look at Y/N the same way now. She has never told me anything personal or shared any bit of information about herself with me. So how can you ask me to keep my mouth shut about this?”

“Taehyu—”

“You’re the one who wrote it all down! It’s your fault for keeping it all in a journal!”

“No one was supposed to see it!”

“Did you really think no one would find it? That’s bullshit. Secrets never stay that way in the clinic.”

Jungkook’s fist connects with the punching bag once more, angle awkward as he strikes, and a sharp pain shoots up his forearm. Pulling back, Jungkook sighs and turns to the nurse who accompanied him on his little escapade outside the clinic.

“Ready to head back?” The nurse asks, unfolding his arms and resting them by his side. Jungkook merely nods in response and begins to tug the wraps around his hands off.

“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook says as he tries to catch his breath.

“Fire away, kid.”

“Is there any news on Hoseok?”

“None that I’m at liberty to share.”

“Ah. I see.”

“I can tell you that he is going to be released from the hospital in a few days though. They need to keep him there for stability checks.”

Jungkook nods along with the words, dropping his wraps in the trash on his way out the door. The nurse doesn’t say anything else, and Jungkook doesn’t press for more answers; instead, he lets himself fall back into the confines of his mind and drown in the thoughts there.

The possibility of you finding out that Taehyung knows is a serious threat to Jungkook’s well-being right now, and the only release from that stress is the fact that you are under the constant watch of a nurse so Taehyung may not be able to get a hold of you while the nurse is around. Jungkook doesn’t know how long the security of that situation will last though. Dr. Choi stated “an undisclosed amount of time”, and so Jungkook has no clue when that nurse will leave your side. Or, a much worse possibility, Taehyung may decide that it doesn’t matter if the nurse is around to hear and could confront you at any time.

Three days.

He hasn’t spoken to Taehyung in three days.

Much like the first few days of his stay at Omelas, Taehyung has begun to avoid Jungkook again. Gone or asleep when Jungkook goes to bed and wakes up, never in the room throughout the day, blocking Jungkook from sitting with him at breakfast. Jimin hasn’t said anything about the odd situation yet, but Jungkook is certain that he knows because Taehyung must have told him something.

And ever since the day of Hoseok’s incident, there has been a strange fog throughout the clinic. Not a physical or visible fog, no, but an invisible one that adds a layer of tension to every minute of the day. An unprecedented sense of quiet and peace throughout meals, and a strange avoidance of each other.

Even stranger, you and Yoongi seem to not be on speaking terms. In fact, the two of you won’t even sit at the same table during meals. Instead, you pull away to the back table — the one where Hoseok used to be, in the same seat he sat in as well — and Yoongi glares at you from his seat beside Jungkook throughout meals, barely touching his food at all. The constant presence of a nurse at Yoongi’s side is a bit disconcerting, but the strange fallout between you and him causes Jungkook more concern. Neither Seokjin nor Namjoon have made a comment on it yet, either because they don’t care to know or they know something that Jungkook doesn’t. Perhaps if the situation of Taehyung finding his journal wasn’t an issue, Jungkook would be more interested in figuring out what happened, but now his mind is primarily occupied by those feelings of anxiety and panic.

It happens again.

Jungkook finds himself standing in the bathroom of his room, staring at the reflection in the mirror and wondering how the hell he got here. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets still falling from the strands of hair that have grown to cover his eyes.

No recollection of how he got here. He doesn’t know how he came back from the gym, or how he got to his room and took a shower. He comes back to himself now, looking in the mirror at a reflection that doesn’t seem to belong to him. The return allows him to pull himself together, however, and he hurries to change into a fresh set of clothes and push his hair out of his face. He’s either going to have to get a haircut sometime soon or start having to tie it back as it’s blocking his line of sight now. The first thing on his agenda though lies in finding Namjoon, because if anyone is going to know what Jungkook needs to do about this issue with Taehyung and the journal, it would be Namjoon.

Leaving his room, Jungkook heads to the room beside his in the hopes to find the older man there; however, after standing outside and knocking a few times, no one comes to the door. Even with the limited amount of places Namjoon could be, Jungkook doesn’t know where to start.

He wanders, not quite letting his subconsciousness take over and steer him somewhere, and steps into the entertainment room first. The room is empty except for a single person, but it is not the person Jungkook is looking for. Instead, it’s Hyewon who turns around and spots Jungkook in the doorway. He nearly turns on his heel and leaves immediately since Namjoon is not in sight, but Hyewon’s beady eyes lock on his. All the sudden, Jungkook cannot move. He’s frozen under her stare, the desire to leave being pushed aside in favor of the panic that swells in his gut. Panic because what if she thinks I don’t like her or that I’m avoiding her.

“Oh, hi Jungkook! How are you?” She greets him with a smile, nose scrunching up as she grins. Jungkook offers a weak smile of his own.

“Just fine,” he mutters back, eyes scanning the room. Despite her previous offers to help him, Jungkook isn’t particularly interested in sharing all the details about what went down with Taehyung or that he kept a journal full of secrets with a person who spends her time around Mingyu and Yesung. Some sort of disgusting shame resides in his subconsciousness as well, a kind of feeling that only serves to make Jungkook feel ten times worse about the situation he caused, and yet Jungkook cannot find it in him to care anymore than that. He doesn’t think about the tears Taehyung shed, or the betrayal etched across his features, because why would he? What good would that do? Would it make him feel any better or worse about the situation? Deep down, Jungkook wishes that it would hurt more, because maybe, just maybe, feeling worse is what he deserves.

After all, Taehyung said everything had gone to shit after Jungkook came to Omelas, so why wouldn’t he deserve to feel the effects of his actions?

Hyewon breaks him out of his thoughts, her light smile drifting into a frown as she looks at Jungkook with wary eyes.

“How are you doing after the issue Dr. Choi addressed?” She inquires further, eyes piercing through Jungkook as she speaks. He clenches his teeth together.

“Fine, I’m not bothered by it at all.”

“I understand if you’re a bit overwhelmed by it. It’s really okay to admit that it’s not all good. It must not have been easy for you to be dragged into that situation, after all. And you had to deal with terrible people like Yoongi and Y/N, who don't care about anyone but themselves…tragic really, I can't ima—”

“I wasn't dragged into it,” Jungkook argues. He finds his voice then, the swell of confidence overtaking the self-loathing swirling in his chest, and he looks at Hyewon with a pointed glare. “I chose to be there. Yoongi was lying when he said that he was the one there with Y/N. It was me. Yoongi was looking out for me, not himself. And Hoseok wasn’t dragged from his room either. He came to the kitchen while Y/N and I were there, then had an episode after that. It isn’t fair for Yoongi to take the blame, or for people to think badly of him or Y/N because of it.” Hyewon shoots down his confidence with a simple click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She shakes her head, platinum hair swaying along with the action.

“They must have told you something to convince you of that. Everyone knows what really happened because we know what kind of people Yoongi and Y/N are. They are people who prey on the weak and convince others to say things that will keep them out of trouble.”

“That makes no sense!” Jungkook counters. “Both Yoongi and Y/N took the blame! They got in trouble. What are you talking about?”

“You will learn in time,” she says, “who the good people are and who the bad ones are. If you want to leave sooner rather than later, then you should focus only on the good people. You’re in a good position, Jungkook. Being roommates with Taehyung means that you have an opportunity to be with the good people because Taehyung is in a neutral zone. But hanging out with people like Y/N, Yoongi, and Namjoon? That’s a big no.”

“Why? Why is that the case for me? What about Seokjin? He hangs out with them too? Do you go and harass him as well?”

“Of course not. Kim Seokjin is a special case, but you wouldn’t understand if I tried to explain it to you. It’s nothing personal. Don’t get it twisted, Jungkook. It’s more related to the length of their stay.. People like those three have lost hope of getting better and leaving. Namjoon has accepted it at this point. The longer the stay, the less hope you have. He has realized that, and eventually you will too if you stay on this path. I may not know Namjoon that well, we rarely speak to each other, but I know what I see in his eyes. All I see is hopelessness.”

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.” I don’t believe that a person like Namjoon would be hopeless.

“He isn’t the only one, you know. I see it in someone else too. I’m sure you do as well. I mean, at this point, isn’t it obvious? I’ve told you already, the ones who stay the longest have the least hope.”

“No!” Jungkook protests, not wanting to hear whatever more she has to say.

“That’s fine.” Hyewon lifts her arms in defense. “You don’t have to, but I’m trying to give you advice. I want to help you out, but if you don’t want to take it, then you don’t have to.”

You’re wrong. That’s what Jungkook wants to say, what he wishes he could say, but the words fail to leave his lips. Instead, all he can do is blink back at her like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen under her stare. A moment passes, then she releases a laugh.

“Your lack of response shows how uncertain you are, though I won’t bother you anymore.” Hyewon steps around Jungkook and leaves the room without another word. He does nothing to stop her. There’s no need to. He would rather spend his time alone anyways, left to stew in his thoughts and struggle with his emotions like this. Left to let the self-loathing return in the absence of confidence. And Jungkook would do exactly that, if not for the time calling him to go to yet another useless and meaningless appointment with Dr. Martin.

This time, Jungkook welcomes the thing that demands control over his mind and body, letting himself melt into the background. It’s strange this time, though, because as he sits in the chair across from the middle-aged doctor, Jungkook feels a drift. His mind coming in and out of control, fighting against that other thing which brought him here, but fighting against his will as well because Jungkook doesn’t really want to be wholly present for this appointment. It happens nonetheless.

“How are the medications treating you, Mr. Jeon?” Dr. Martin asks once Jungkook sits down.

“It doesn’t feel like they’re doing anything.”

“Stay on them a while longer. It takes time for medicine to take effect.”

“I know they won’t work. I’ve tried them before and they never worked.”

“It is the best choice for you, Mr. Jeon. We chose it for you because it is what you need. You will keep taking it for at least three months.”

Jungkook slumps in his chair, and the will to argue further about the topic leaves him. Thankfully, Dr. Martin changes the subject, although Jungkook isn’t happy to hear the question that next leaves his mouth. When are you ever happy though? It’s a chiding tone that resounds in his head, something close to what his father sounds like, and Jungkook bites down hard on his tongue as the voice makes itself known.

“Are you still feeling the same about the incident a few days ago?”

“Yes, I’m still frustrated with it.”

“For the same reasons?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Martin sighs, the only other sound in the room besides the noisy scribble of his pen as he writes on his notepad. All Jungkook’s secrets are contained in those pages. He wonders if Dr. Martin ever shows it to anyone else, just to get a kick out of it, maybe a good laugh for a bit. Perhaps Taehyung should have laughed at the pages of Jungkook’s journal instead of crying. It would make reality a bit easier to handle, wouldn’t it? Making someone laugh instead of disappointing them and betraying them with secrets written in the pale yellow light.

“Have you ever struggled with delusions or hallucinations in the past?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen or heard things that others cannot?”

Yes you have.

“No.”

You dirty fucking liar.

“Struggled to trust that what you’re thinking is real?”

“No.”

If it’s not real, then you’re just crazy. Are you crazy? Am I?

“Do you ever get the sense that someone or something is controlling your thoughts and emotions?”

“No.”

Where’s the line? Where do I start being honest?

“Do you ever feel as though you have powers that others cannot understand or appreciate?”

“No.”

“Is it difficult to organize or keep track of your thinking?”

“Yes.”

Honesty. A sliver of honesty amidst the cloud of lies.

“Do others ever tell you that it’s difficult for you to stay on subject or for them to understand you?”

“No.”

“Do you feel as though you have little in common with family or friends?”

“No.”

I just feel like a disappointment.

“And do you ever feel that you’re being tracked, followed, or watched?”

“Only when nurses are breathing down my neck.”

Dr. Martin stops his scribbling to send Jungkook a pointed glare, before dropping his chin and continuing with his barrage of questions.

“Do others have a difficult time guessing your emotions by facial expressions?”

“No? What kind of question is that?”

Perhaps Jungkook is getting a bit too bold, but he’s ready for the questions to end. It’s too much.

“Do you find it difficult to express yourself in words?”

“Yes, everyone does.”

“Do you believe in anything that no one else seems to believe in?”

“No.”

I know what’s real and what’s not. I know the truth. I know what happened with Hoseok. Hyewon is a liar.

“Do others not believe you when you tell them things you see or hear?”

“Yes.”

Just Hyewon. But she is a liar.

“Can you trust what you’re thinking at all times?”

Too much.

“Yes.”

It’s all too much, isn’t it?

“Do you talk to another person or persons inside your head that nobody else can hear?”

“No.”

Dirty fucking liar.

“One last question, Mr. Jeon. Do you ever feel things crawling across your skin or see things moving that others don’t see.”

“I’m not crazy,” Jungkook protests all the sudden. He tightens his fists around the material of his pants.

“That is not what I asked or thought, Mr. Jeon. This is merely an assessment for further issues not detailed in your initial examination. These delusions you seem to be having around the situation involving Jung Hoseok do not seem to be random. I believe they are coming from a source in the mind. It could be an issue in the brain sourced at the relationship between your frontal lobe and sensory cortex. Or you could have an overactive auditory or visual cortex.” Dr. Martin pulls away from his desk, leaning down and digging through a drawer. When he comes back up, he has a laminated chart in his hand and sets it down in front of Jungkook. Jungkook glances between the doctor and the chart of the brain, bracing himself for the onset of medical jargon that is undoubtedly about to come his way.

“I’ll explain this in full medical terms first. Hallucination patients typically have a significantly reduced grey matter density in the left superior temporal gyrus, the medial prefrontal cortex in periventricular areas, and in the thalamus. There also tends to be a pathology in the speech processing areas of the left temporal lobe, in addition to low concentrations of glutamate. If that’s the case for you, then we can prescribe antipsychotic drugs such as risperidone since it targets dopamine receptors. There is a possibility that it could be an issue within the right middle temporal gyrus, which responds to external speech. Normal people respond to external speech with greater left side activity; however, the right side of the brain tends to be hyperactive in people with certain mental disorders, suggesting compensatory increase due to the left-hemisphere language processing dysfunctions.

“The issue is that auditory hallucinations compete with external speech processing site within the temporal cortex. Using music or speech can help alleviate auditory hallucinations. Have you ever used music as a way to ‘quiet your mind’ or ‘keep the voices at bay’?”

“I have…” Jungkook trails off, staring at the chart before him rather than looking up at Dr. Martin.

It’s all just too much.

“Just a moment.” Dr. Martin pushes away from his desk again and moves for a filing cabinet now. He returns a moment later, a manila folder in hand, and Jungkook knows exactly what lies within it without needing to ask. It’s a thing Jungkook grew accustomed to seeing after his visits to previous clinics. The doctors would all pull out a similar manila folder, unfolding it to bare all Jungkook’s secrets to the light of day. His ‘medical history’ and ‘childhood trauma’ that Jungkook doesn’t care to think about any longer than he has to, because it’s nonexistent. “There are no reports of serious injury on your file. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever had a concussion or other sort of brain injury?”

“No, never.”

“Hm, I see. Can I explain this further in medical terms for you? It may help you better understand the relationship between your conditions.”

“That’s fine.”

The doctor motions towards the chart before him again as words begin to tumble from his lips in something that sounds like a foreign language to Jungkook.

“Chronic stress and anxiety can cause damage to the brain. The pathological nature of both leads to structural degeneration and impaired functioning of the hippocampus and the prefrontal cortex, which can account for increased risks of developing neuropsychiatric disorders. Anxiety disorders such as Jungkook’s are associated with alteration in fear neurocircuitry such that ‘bottom-up’ processes in the amygdala which respond to threats are exaggerated. The regulation of those processes by the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus is thus impaired.

“During a panic attack, a multitude of things happen within the brain. Certain regions of the brain become hyperactive, including the amygdala, which is the fear center of the brain, as well as parts of the midbrain that control a range of functions, including our experience of pain. Activity in the periaqueductal grey, a region that provokes the body’s defensive response, and other malfunctions can lead to an over exaggeration of a threat. Anxiety disorders in and of themselves are caused in part by disruption in the balance of activity in the emotional center of the brain rather than in higher cognitive centers. Chronic stress exposure similarly alters fear neurocircuitry by enhancing amygdalar functioning while causing structural degeneration in the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus thereby inhibiting the control those two parts have over the stress response.”

Dr. Martin pauses once more, turning to his drawers and digging out another chart, and places it in front of Jungkook. “This is a walkthrough of the brain’s response to fear. Fear activates the amygdala and it branches into two sectors: the sympathetic nervous system and the HPA axis. Once the amygdala is activated, it triggers the locus coeruleus and the hypothalamus. The release of CRF, corticotropin-releasing faction, triggers the pituitary gland, which releases ACTH, adrenocorticotropic hormone, and activates the adrenal cortex, thus releasing cortisol. At the same time, the sympathetic nervous system triggers a neural impulse which activates smooth muscles and glands, in addition to the adrenal medulla, which releases adrenaline and noradrenaline into the bloodstream. That all leads into a fight or flight response in the body. The brain’s response to fear can become somewhat distorted because of anxiety disorders. Chronic maladaptive stress response can cause psychiatric disorders to develop and could be the result of trauma in early childhood experiences.”

“I didn’t have any early childhood trauma that would’ve triggered this sort of thing,” Jungkook protests, shaking his head at the doctor’s words.

“There could be memories that are being blocked out because of stress or trauma. I recommend that we begin to talk about childhood and your memories at the next meeting. For now, however, you can go ahead and leave as we are out of time.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a thin line, standing and leaving Dr. Martin’s small office with a word of farewell, because what good would it do? The hefty weight of all the meaningless medical jargon that filled his ears won’t help him understand this any better. It won’t fix anything. It’s all too much.

You dirty fucking liar.

That voice won’t leave him alone. It’s playing on repeat, the same tone that he heard when he thought about his own happiness. Jungkook is just about to hand himself over to his subconsciousness when he spots a tall form bearing dirty blonde hair walking in his direction.

“N-Namjoon!” Jungkook calls out, a bit too loud seeing as the man is only a couple feet away from him, but Namjoon doesn’t comment on the loudness of his remark. He merely smiles at Jungkook, and the warmth from the action catches Jungkook off guard. “Can…uh, can we talk?”

“Of course, that’s fine. I was just on my way to pick up a book, if you don’t mind walking in that direction.”

“Not at all.” Jungkook shakes his head. Namjoon’s smile pushes that nagging voice to the back of his mind. He falls into step beside the man, palms sweaty all the sudden. The prospect of admitting what he did hits, and the realization that he must also admit that he hurt Taehyung, betrayed his trust — not only Taehyung’s actually, everyone he has spoken to thus far in the clinic — Jungkook is a lot less sure about his desire to talk with Namjoon now.

The pair walks in silence for a few precious moments, then Namjoon decides to break it in favor of questioning Jungkook.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

Jungkook’s heart is in his throat now, the rhythmic beat drumming in his eyes so loud he can barely hear Namjoon’s words over the din.

“I-I, uh, well—”

“Woah, Jungkook, breathe. Are you alright?”

“No,” he says before he can stop himself. “No, sorry, I’m fine. I’m fine. Uh, well, something...something happened between Taehyung and I, and I-I just don’t, I don’t know what to do. I’m worried that maybe — no, I’m worried that it’s going to get out of hand.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I, uh,” Jungkook fumbles with his words some more. The confession lingers on the tip of his tongue, and yet he can’t spit it out. There is an invisible hand around his throat, choking the air out of him, and the pressure in his head increases tenfold.

Dirty fucking liar. Tell the truth. Worthless piece of shit. That’s all you are. You think you’re wanted? Needed? If you’re going to kill yourself, at least do it properly.

“Jungkook.” A hand finds his shoulder. Grounds him. Brings him out of his mind. Shelves surround him now, books litter the walls, and yet all he sees is the brown of Namjoon’s eyes. Warm. Concerned. Bringing him back. “Are you alright?” Jungkook breathes again at the question. He swallows the lump in his throat. Then, he carries on as though nothing happened, and Namjoon doesn’t press for answers.

“Taehyung found something personal of mine and made a big deal out of it.”

“That sounds very suspicious, Jungkook. Can you at least tell me what it was?”

“I had, um, a journal. I wrote everything in there.”

“Everything?”

“Yea…all the things I heard around the clinic and everything I was told as well. Taehyung, he found and read it. Um, it didn’t go over very well.”

“That makes sense,” Namjoon says with a nod. He’s not mad? Why isn’t he upset with me as well? Shouldn’t he be? “Why did you have the journal in the first place?”

“I forget things easily, so I just wanted to be able to remember everything. I didn’t think anyone would find it.”

“You should have expected someone to find it eventually, Jungkook. You ought to know better.”

It isn’t anger that laces Namjoon’s tone, moreso a hint of disappointment, but that stings a lot worse than anger would have. He wanted Namjoon to be angry, to tell him off and raise his voice at him, because at least Jungkook would see something other than disappointment.

“Something like that was bound to come out at some point. I don’t blame you for having the journal, but you should have known this was a possibility when you first started writing in it. It’s one thing to have something that the doctors ask you to use, but another to keep a journal full of other people’s secrets. It’s all a matter of privacy. You wouldn’t want me or Y/N to put down private information like your disorder, right? So, while it’s fine if you want to remember that information somehow, you have to be more careful about it.”

“I was trying to be careful!” Jungkook argues. He balls his fists at his side as he looks up at Namjoon, feeling a bit like a child trying to defend himself.

“That may be the case, Jungkook, but obviously you weren’t careful enough. What exactly did Taehyung read?”

“Everything,” Jungkook sighs. The air leaves his lips and takes his will to argue with it, a white flag of defeat waving in the wind.

“I need specifics. It could be problematic depending on what Taehyung read.” Namjoon’s eyes bear concern still, yes, but something else hangs alongside the emotion. A hint of fear, worry, dread over what Taehyung learned. And the sinking sensation in Jungkook’s stomach only serves to give him certainty that what Taehyung read is truly detrimental.

“It was mostly the information about Y/N that he was upset about. He told me that he won’t be able to look at you the same way because of it. I don’t—it was never my intention to d—”

“What did she tell you?” Namjoon cuts him off, tone more frantic than it was a moment ago. Jungkook sinks further. The self-loathing returns, but this time Namjoon does nothing to break him out of it.

Stupid, useless, worthless.

“She told me all sorts of things the night of Hoseok’s accident and the day prior. Most of it was about how she feels helpless and unable to do any good for others. Feeling incapable of doing good and that her attempts always end up hurting people in the end.”

Worthless piece of shit.

Jungkook wonders for a moment if you have the same voice haunting your mind and thoughts. Namjoon exhales a deep sigh. More disappointment. Jungkook feels himself slipping, although he isn’t sure where he’s going to land at the end of this.

That’s all you are.

“And now Taehyung knows that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Namjoon. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I’m not the person you need to apologize to. Y/N never told Taehyung these things for a reason. Taehyung sees her as a strong person, someone who has a good grip on reality and the things around her. In his eyes, she is invincible and untouchable. He doesn’t know why she’s here, and frankly he doesn’t care because she’s always strong in his mind. He looks up to her for that, because he struggles to maintain a grasp on reality. Y/N only ever lets herself crumble when Taehyung isn’t around. She knows how Taehyung views her; he idolizes her. He cares about and trusts her wholeheartedly because of how confident and strong she seems. If he knows that she isn’t actually like that — that the pedestal he put her on crumbles — then his entire mental image of her is a lie. Taehyung struggles with reality enough as it is, but now he’s not going to be able to believe his mind either. Any progress he had is now going to be gone. He’ll have to start over.”

“Am-am I responsible for that?”

Namjoon purses his lips.

Jungkook can’t stand the silence.

“Is that on my shoulders?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask that question, Jungkook.”

His eyes sting at the words, and the weight of the reality that falls on him is too much for him to carry. I just want out. I just want to leave. How can this happen? How can I be responsible for this?

“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened with Taehyung either. When Taehyung first came to Omelas, he used to be close friends with Mingyu. After about a year, Mingyu started showing his true colors and what kind of person he really was. Taehyung…he had a mental crisis when he saw that. He had been doing very well up until that point, and there were lots of rumors that he would be able to leave the clinic before that. But everything crumbled once Mingyu showed his true colors. Taehyung backtracked and lost every ounce of progress. He’s been here for four years now, Jungkook. It has taken three of those years just to get him back to this point.”

��I-I can’t, I can’t be responsible for something like that. I can’t. There’s no way.”

“It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, Taehyung is going to blame you for bringing the info to him, albeit indirectly. But he’s going to be more upset with Y/N because it involves her and the mental image he had constructed of her. You aren’t going to want to hear this, Jungkook, but it needs to be said. This is the worst thing that could happen to Y/N right now. First Hoseok’s incident and now this? The two people she cares about and wants to help more than anything else? This is why she doesn’t let people get close. She feels that she made that mistake one too many times in the past, and we both paid dearly for it in more ways than I can count.”

The constriction around Jungkook’s throat tightens to a point where he can barely breathe. He’s fighting it, fighting it with all his might, but the onset of the panic attack is about to settle in. Namjoon must notice the expression of terror on his face, because he continues speaking with a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“This is just life and part of being in a place like this. Everything and everyone is volatile here. There is no stability and nothing is certain, because things can change in an instant. That’s why you should’ve known better than to keep everything in a journal. Even relationships aren’t guaranteed. Something can flip in the blink of an eye and destroy the relationship without even trying hard.”

“Is that what’s going to happen with Taehyung and Y/N?”

The soft smiles you passed Taehyung’s way, the laughs and grins he had because of you, the fiery will and determination you held just so that you could make Taehyung happy, the mere action of giving him a stuffed bear in efforts to help, all you wanted to do was help — Jungkook can’t bear to think of it all crumbling because of him.

“I don’t know. There are a lot of things that are impossible to expect or understand, and this is one of them. A person like Taehyung could hold a grudge one day and change his mind the next. And a person like Y/N will hold onto any mistakes she makes forever and try to put a wall between herself and others as a method of protection. She won’t blame you for it though. She’ll believe that it was her mistake. She trusted you enough to tell you those things. She won’t think you betrayed her, she’ll think she betrayed herself.”

“Th-that’s not r-right,” Jungkook stammers through quaky breaths. “I would r-rather have her blame m-me. I would rather her blame me than herself.” Namjoon offers a shrug.

“I have tried time and time again to tell her the same thing. She blames herself no matter what. It’s just part of who she is as a person.”

“Why do you just accept that? Why don’t you try to help her or change her?”

“Why would I want to change her?”

“Isn’t it annoying or frustrating for you to have to deal with that kind of mindset all the time?” Jungkook’s question is innocent, one a child would ask his parent or teacher, an attempt to learn, to know, to understand. He doesn’t think he can understand Namjoon’s line of thinking though, not when he seems so ready to give up on you.

“It’s not.” Namjoon smiles back at him. Jungkook doesn’t have a response. His lips part, and air rushes into his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to say, after all. Jungkook asked. Namjoon answered. That’s that. Namjoon laughs, the airy sound filling the room. “It’s strange yet funny in a way, because Yoongi asked me a similar question once. He can’t stand that about her either. He always wishes that she would look after herself and not take the blame for everything. For her to not care so much about others. Yet the moment she slips into that guilt and self-hatred, he’s at her side as though it doesn’t bother him. I don’t wish that she would change though. That isn’t what it means to truly love and care about someone. If you truly love and care about a person, you don’t want to change who they are.”

“B-But the disorders. The mental illness. Don’t you want to change that? To fix it?”

“Fix what? I know it’s not the disorders that make her that way. Even if it were, I wouldn’t want to change that about her. What matters more to me is that she is happy and healthy. I want to meet her in her darkest place and love her there. Not to pull her out of it and then love her. She tolerates every single bit of stupid shit I do and say because she knows it makes me content and happy. She listens to every bit of Seokjin’s research and medical talk because she knows it makes him content and happy. She makes an effort for Yoongi because she knows it’s what he wants, and that matters more to her than her own wants and needs. It’s only fair if I do the same for her.”

I don’t understand. Why? Why wouldn’t you want to fix them? If you truly love them, wouldn’t you want to see them better? To be free of any disorder or illness?

“Jungkook, I’m going to warn you. What you were doing with your journal was drifting into dangerous territory. When you start to objectify people by the things you see, you run a bigger risk. Once you know people’s disorders, that’s the first thing you think of when you see them. People aren’t their disorders. When Yoongi looks at Y/N, he sees her disorders first because that’s what he sees when he looks in the mirror. He can’t separate his image of himself from how he views other. Even if he thinks he has good intentions by trying to “fix” others, he knows he can’t because he can’t fix the person looking back at him in the mirror. Y/N struggles with it too. She wants to fix people. She feels as though that is her duty. She can’t fix herself though, so she’ll only ever view herself as a terrible person because of that. For the longest time, I only saw that reflection when I looked in the mirror. It took a long time to separate Kim Namjoon from the disorders the doctors labelled me with. What do you see in the mirror, Jungkook? Do you know who you are or do you just take the labels doctors give you? Are you “Jeon Jungkook, Panic Disorder” or someone else?

“It’s far better to know people for their heart and not their mind. A person’s mind can be fucked up and distorted. But the kind of person they are, what they do for others, how they treat others — that all tells you much more. We are all souls with a house of flesh and bones, wrestling with a mind that is not our own. For some people it gets to be too much. They just want out of the cage they feel trapped in, and society is the one keeping them there. They don’t see their body as anything good, it’s only a trapped feeling, and sometimes they try to get out. They try to get rid of a certain part of themselves, kill the mind that isn’t completely theirs.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Jungkook whispers.

“View it as such: you are trapped in the clinic, listening to voices that are not your own telling you what you have to do to “get out” when they really want you to stay.” Namjoon pauses, inhales a deep breath, then exhales it slowly. “Do you know what caused Hoseok’s episode that night?”

“No, I have no idea.”

“He had been sneaking pills into his pocket at meal times instead of taking them. He’d been saving up for weeks. He took fifty-three pills before leaving his room that night. Not because any of the voices told him to kill himself, but because he was tired of hearing them, tired of having a mind occupied by so many voices and people that were not him, tired of feeling trapped. And after it was all said and done, he realized that he didn’t want to die, he only wanted to kill that part of himself.”

“It’s all a circle though. You want to get out, try to get out, feel free for a fleeting amount of time, then return to the cycle. It never ends. There’s always a part of yourself that you want to kill. Eventually you’ll be left with nothing.”

The smile Namjoon passes his way is a sad one, a melancholic turn of his lips, and a tragic realization of the implications behind Jungkook’s words.

“You would only understand that if you tried.”

Jungkook glances up at the man but doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. Namjoon understands. Jungkook understands. He doesn’t need to explain, and the sad smile on Namjoon’s face serves to tell him that Namjoon was in the same place too once.

“What’s the way out then? If you can’t kill yourself, then what?”

“If I knew that, do you think they would still be here? Taehyung, Jimin, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Y/N. Would any of them be here if I knew that? And what of the others? Don’t they deserve that release too? The people who deserve that release most? We’re all reaching for it, trying to connect who we are and who we want to be, stretching to reach this ideal version of ourselves that only we know. Perhaps connecting those dots and looking up to see the constellation of your life is the answer to your question. It’s far easier said than done though, and I have my own thoughts about it, but obviously they haven’t done me any good in all my time here.”

“What are they?” Jungkook inquires, head falling to the side as he asks the question.

“If I can’t love the reflection in the mirror or feel as though my body is a home and not a cage, accept my mind as an ally and not an enemy, then I don’t deserve to leave. I need to love myself for who I am today, who I was yesterday, and who I hope to become in the future. Those versions of myself create the constellation of my life. I need to accept that. We all have to. The ugly bits, the parts we want to hide from reality, things we don’t want anyone to know about — if we bare it all, what’s left? What weapons do the minds that are not our own have? If they can’t use anything against us anymore, then won’t we win?”

Win? What does it mean to win though? Is it release from the prison that is the clinic? Freedom from the things that plague your mind and emotions? A cure? But Namjoon isn’t talking about the clinic anymore, he isn’t talking about being freed from the shackles of illnesses or disorders. No. No, Namjoon is talking about something else. Jungkook understands it. He sees it. To win is to live. To be alive. To continue. To keep fighting no matter what.

Hopelessness. That is what Hyewon said she saw in Namjoon. She saw it in someone else too, and Jungkook knows exactly who she meant.

To lose. If you lose hope, then you’ve lost something else. But you haven’t lost, no, because if what Namjoon means by winning is “living”, then losing can only mean one thing.

“How many people…?” Jungkook asks, but he doesn’t want to hear the answer. He can’t even finish the question with confidence. The guilt on Namjoon’s shoulders, the weight that traps him and confines him to the vicious cycle of relapse after relapse, Namjoon’s words hold too much behind them. Jungkook can see it clearly now. He sees it, yet he doesn’t want to. It hurts, burns, chokes him. He pushes forward, looking Namjoon in the eye as he speaks again. “How many people have you seen lose?”

“In all my time here? All six years? Only one.”

And yet, as Namjoon whispers the words, Jungkook knows. He knows that the day that one person lost, two other people did too. And Jungkook is looking at one of them.

...

a/n: woW! what a chapter! i cranked this out in two days (even tho it is a bit later than i had hoped ;-;) NONETHELESS let me know what you think! come rant in my inbox! rant in a comment. take my survey! i love love love hearing from you guys! thank you for making this story possible!

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

Text

Cat and Mouse

Summary: Abe is on the trail of the madman Wilford Warfstache, time is an illusion, and the drinks are free.

A/N: (Looks through fics) Huh, I haven’t written Abe in a while, well, time to fix that.

Abe vaulted over a couple trash and screamed at Wilford as he chased him down. “Dammit Wil, stop running for five seconds, you ass!”

“Alrighty then,” Wilford almost purred in Abe’s ear. Then Abe was shoved forward, almost into the busy street in front of them. “Tag!”

The detective screamed, but fortunately stopped short of getting hit. Abe was one part terrified by his newest near death experience, and another part furious. “Wil!”

“Don’t you know how the game is played, old sport?” Wil chuckled, standing directly behind Abe. “Or have you gotten bored by our game.”

“I’m not playing around, douchebag,” Abe stood up, people giving the two of them a wide berth, other bystanders had their phones out and were recording them.

Wilford just laughed at Abe’s words and anger.

“You’re under arrest,” Abe told him.

Wilford looked a little puzzled by that, “That’s an interesting game, how do you play.”

Hovering somewhere in-between wanting to laugh, scream, and bludgeon Wil to death with a brick; Abe took out his cuffs. “It’s a simple game, you turn around and let me put you in these cuffs and take you down to the station.”

“Kinky,” Wilford grinned. “But I can’t play for long, I have someone to get back to.”

Abe fought the urge to just chuck the cuffs at Wil’s head, “No, you asshat, I’m bringing you to jail and this time you’re going to rot them longer than a couple hours.”

“Well how long is this game going to take?” Wilford questioned. “Darky’s going to get a touch upset if I don’t make it back in time for dinner.”

“I’m not playing games!” Abe spat. “You’re going to jail.”

Wilford shrugged, “Well now I’m confused is this a game or not?”

“It’s not,” Logic announced himself before he struck Wilford in the back with a TASER.

Time seemed to unnaturally clip itself forward, as if a force of nature physically jumped from one place to the next.

Abe’s feet landed on a roof. Wilford’s feet were landing on the opposite roof, still running away from them.

“What the?” Logan was almost knocked flat on his face.

“You’re not getting away,” Abe shouted, chasing after Wil as if nothing was wrong with them suddenly being on the roof. Abe seemed to clip through reality itself, as if the space in-between the two roofs folded enough for Abe to be able to jump to the next roof. “Get back here.”

“Detective! Wait it’s—” Logic called out.

Abe was already mid jump when he was calling out, his feet leaping from a concrete roof, and landing on the old cobblestone of Egoton’s Little Koreatown district.

On the other side of town.

“Wil! You’re not getting away that easily,” Abe threatened. “Stop running and just let me arrest you!”

Wil physically burst his way through a firework kiosk that five seconds ago hadn’t been there and a huge mortar firework in his hands, one big enough to almost be a cannon, as he whirled around to face Abe. “Arrest this!”

Abe cursed, trying to stop in time to avoid getting shot.

Logic dashed out of the nearby alleyway, summoning up some kind of holographic shield and bouncing the firework up to explode harmlessly up into the air.

Wilford, slightly smokey, huffed and pouted at the logical Side, “What was that for?”

Logic was panting from his run all over town, “I have been pursuing the two of your for three hours, and I am not going to do so again.”

“All that for little ol’ me,” Wilford chuckled. “Well aren’t you a delight?”

“Hasn’t been that long,” Abe defended, but Logan just looked over at him, his anger almost palpable through the visor and mask shielding his identity.

Wilford carefully set down the mortar and smiled, starting to inch back. Abe caught the action and immediately started chasing him again. This time Logic was able to keep up as the three ran through the street and appeared in a nightclub as if they’d been inside of it for at least a couple of minutes. Logan looked a little disorientated, but Abe began to try and push through the crowd, they parted almost immediately, showing Wilford was sitting at the bar with a huge smile.

The patrons all had his mask on, already under Wil’s mad influence.

“Detective and friend,” Wil greeted, martini in hand. “Nice of your two to drop by.”

“Wilford M. Warfstache,” Logan began. “We’re here to place you under arrest for: murder, theft, fraud, evading arrest, and conspiracy to commit murder. You have a right to remain silent—”

“Blah blah blah,” Wilford took his hand and pantomimed Logic talking, as Logan kept trying to read him his rights so they could actually arrest him.

“Hey, Warf has the right, doesn’t mean he’s got the ability,” Abe suggested sardonically.

“I suppose,” Logan sighed. “Are you going to come quietly, or are we going to have to make a scene?”

Wilford held up his martini, “I’d like to have a couple drinks instead. What about it gentlemen? Care to join me? This establishment usually gives me drinks for free?”

“Barkeep?” Wil called over his shoulder and a man with short-cut curly brown hair walked out. His lack of a mask was both a relief and disturbing for Logic.

“Yes, Sir?” The bartender sighed, clearly he was somewhat used to Wil’s antics but wasn’t ordering him out of his bar entirely.

“They give you free drinks because you have enthralled them,” Logic reminded. “They literally cannot deny you.”

Wilford just stared at him, confused, “So is that a no on the drinks. What about you Dave?”

“My name is Abe,” Abe spat back.

“Ahh, Steve, take a load off, have a drink,” Wil dismissed, trying in vain to get the straw of his drink into his mouth.

“Not my name,” Abe told him. “It’s Abe.”

“If you’re not going to come quietly, we’ll literally drag you to the station by force,” Logan warned.

“If you two insist on ruining a good time,” Wil shrugged, and then waved his hands and all the enthralled bar patrons seemed to move as if they had marionette strings attached to their bodies, or were zombies.

“Dammit,” Abe hissed, putting away his gun to take out a TASER. He didn’t want to kill the people under Wilford’s control. “Wil, just get over here and let me arrest you.”

“No can do boys, Darky says I’ve hit my quota,” Wil kicked back on the bar stool, and leaned back on the counter. “He told me if I got arrested again this month I was going to sleep in the cellar and I hate it down there.”

Abe and Logan fought their way through the crowd, trying to gently stun the entranced bar patrons. The Detective, as always, was the first to reach Wil.

Wil smiled, clearly excited to get into another fist fight with the detective, he set his martini down. Abe jumped at Wil, managing to punch him across the face. Their fight lasted just long enough for Logan to try and approach the two of them, trying to disable Wil, hoping that it would free the bar patrons and help them arrest Wil.

Unfortunately Wilford seemed to be inching closer to the nearest window, something that Abe was trying not to let happen.

“I don’t think so!” Abe pulled out his TASER and jammed it into the center of Wil’s chest. There was something familiar about the act that was trying to spark something in the Detective’s mind, but Wil did everything he could to ignore it.

Reality twisted and bent itself around Wil again, and suddenly Abe found himself slamming shut the bars of Wil’s personal cell in the police station, triumphant with himself. Once the bars were closed the whole cell gave a light hum, Marvin’s spell now working to keep Dark from getting in, or Wil from getting out.

“There you sick freak,” Abe told Wil who had a rather smug look on his face.

“Quite the good game wasn’t it?” Wil chuckled.

Logan was shaking his head, suddenly disoriented as he stumbled his way to the nearest phone to check that everyone at the bar was still okay.

“A game?” Abe balked. “I had to TASER about a dozen people, who didn’t deserve it by the way. You are a menace to society, and I look forward to transporting you back to jail, formally, again.”

“Everyone at the bar seems to be recovering,” Logan finally announced.

“Least no one died,” Abe took a calming breath. Wil was behind bars, no one was dead.

At the Detective’s words, however, Wil let out a booming laugh, “My dear detective, what type of game did you think we were playing?”

“We’re not playing a game!” Abe shouted. “You’ve shot and killed people. You should be stuck in a cell for all of time. I look forward to seeing you rot behind bars for the rest of your unnatural life.”

“So angry,” Wil chuckled. “Why? You won this round, ol’ friend.”

Abe’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his skull. “I’m going to kill you.”

Logan pulled him back, “Go and take a break outside, I’ll watch him for a bit.”

The Detective glared at Logan, but left, slamming the door behind him.

“So angry,” Wil’s voice was almost a purr. “Did something happen?”

“Get some rest, Warfstache,” Logan told him. “There will be time for another game later.”

Wil’s smile got wider as he walked over to the little bench that doubled as a bed. “I like how you think.”

By the time Abe walked back in, taking his time to smoke outside, Wilford. Who seemed to actually be asleep and Abe looked relieved. “Ugh, that was like pulling teeth. How long do you think we’ll have him?”

“Based on Warfstache’s statement and the fact that he seems to be actually sleeping? A couple hours at best, it depends on if Dark will free him quickly.” Logan looked over at the clock. “At least we won’t have to immediately deal with Dark storming into the station.”

“Think we could get him too?” Abe dared to hope.

“Only if we could adequately get the scope of Dark’s powers and abilities, his ability to use the Void even if trapped in an anti-magic force field is disconcerting, I think it exists in his very being.

“Well, that’s my allowance of hope for the day,” Abe decided. “I’ll start the guard rounds.”

“I’ll remain here for as long as I can,” Logan offered.

“Thanks,” Abe told him and Logan stayed in the room as the Detective rounded up some of the offices and guards. The routine was well established at this point.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #markiplier #Thomas Sanders #Abe the Detective #Wilford Warfstache #Logan Sanders #magically tampering with the bounds of reality #Logan's not used to it #objects appearing out of hammerspace #fireworks

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icequeenoriginal · 5 years

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Missing Prince AU: Another

Note: @pheonix-inside and I both cannot get over this AU so what do we do? Make a sequel! Same as last time, each reblog will have its own warnings and feel free to message either of us if you want to join or be tagged. I hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, and RED

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit

“Are you ready?”

Roman gave Virgil a soft smile as a maid gently placed his father’s--his crown on his head.

“Of course love,” Roman replied. Virgil gave him a look that screamed ‘I don't believe you’ and Roman gently squeezed his hand.

“I mean, it’s not like anything could go wrong, right? All I’m doing is giving a speech that we’ve practiced over a hundred times together. And I’m not enacting any new laws.” Roman rambled off

Virgil cupped his face, cutting him off, and gently kissed Roman’s head “You’re right. You got this. And after we can just lay in bed and cuddle until logan comes barging in with your schedule.”

Roman and Virgil laughed to themselves while Logan glared at them. Patton kissed Logan’s cheek which drained all the anger out of him.

The bell tower chimed, letting them all know that it was time.

“Good luck! We’ll be right here if you need us.” Patton said

“Thank you” Roman replied and he stepped out. He was met instant cheers and applause. To his left, a woman sat in a chair, holding a baby. Her name was Emma, the girl who had been forced to marry Roman’s cruel father and whose pregnancy started the whole chain of events that ended with Roman becoming king.

Not that Roman had any anger towards her. In fact, he saw her as a close friend. She was only a few years older than Roman and was an overall nice girl. It was horrible what happened to her.

Roman smiled down at the three-month-old in her arms. Her name was Valerie and Roman loved her to bits. She smiled back at her brother, reaching for and giggling at him.

He looked over his shoulder and saw, Derrien, Remy, Emile, Logan, Patton standing in their spots, silently supporting him. He finally had the confidence he needed to do this because he had these people behind him.

Roman gently rubbed Valerie’s head before walking to the edge of the balcony “Greeting citizens! I just wanted to thank you all for coming here today.”

Roman’s excited expression softens into a genuine smile “Like most of you, I am in awe that it has been a year since I took down my father and became king. I am so happy that you all accepted me. No more are we a kingdom that is lead by fear, but one lead by love and understanding. I am pleased to announce that we have replaced all of my father’s oppressive laws with ones that are built on equality and acceptance.”

The crowd cheered “All hail King Roman!” “All hail King Roman!”

“We move into this year stronger and united as ever. With my close friends and greatest allies to lead us into greatness and keep you all safe. Let this next year be as amazing as the one before and future ones. Thank you! Have a great day!” Roman smiled as he walked off, a deafening wave of praise following him in.

~ A figure watched the speech in the distance. He smirked to himself before heading to the castle. It was easy as the guards were more focused on getting the citizens out.

It was his time to shine.

He walked up to the first guard who didn’t seem to be doing anything and said “Excuse me! I need an itty bitty favor from you.”

Roman practically threw himself into Virgil’s arms once he was out of view. “How was that?”

Virgil smiled at him lovingly “You did amazing sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.” Virgil scooped Roman up and ran back to their shared room before anyone could tell Roman to do anything else.

he gently placed Roman on the bed and climbed in. He wrapped his arms around Roman’s torso and cuddled into him.

“Eager are we?” Roman teased

“Shush, I’m a very selfish and needy assassin.”

Roman chuckled and smiled as he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, making him purr. Once Virgill loosened his grip, Roman laid down and they tangled their limbs together.

Roman was almost asleep when Derrien burst through the door.

“NO! Go away!” Virgil grabbed a pillow and threw it at Derrien, which he easily dodged.

Derrien walked up to Roman, ignoring Virgil pouting completely. “Pardon my interruption but, there is someone wanting to meet with you, your majesty. In the throne room.”

Roman felt concerned by the nervous tone Derrien spoke in. Virgil unconsciously sat up and gripped onto Roman’s arm, he sensed the worry as well. Roman gently kissed Virgil’s head “Well, we must not keep them waiting.” Virgil reluctantly released Roman’s arm and Roman headed to the throne room, fixing his appearance on the way.

Roman took a deep breath before grabbing the door handle. He tried not to smile when he heard the not so subtle footsteps behind him. It gave him the confidence he needed to face whatever was behind that door.

Roman slowly opened it and walked into the room.

Taglist:

@thelowlysatsuma @romansleftshoulderpad @overlyinvestednverygay @randomavengersquotes @battleblaze @mycatshuman @sanders-sides-rebloger @baddeceit-ohsorrydeceit @boombirch @innocent-sweet-rose @penquinsarecool @random-fandom-dragon @pretty-hog-wild@narniasfinestavengingsociopath @cefinitely-rolo @el-elephant @venus-fuck @len-art-trash @lavenderthreads @whore-for-that @patton-deserves-the-universe @thevirgilantone @hildaoflorule101 @fallingelevation @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @hitmewiththatfanart33 @psychosnowfox @comicsimpson @giffengrimmstone @prismartist @definenormalifyoucan @edgy-gremlin

#thomas sanders #sander sides #prinxiety #logicality #RED #missing prince au #book 2 #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remy #Emile Picani #deciet sanders #sympathetic deceit #I wonder who wants to see Roman #>:)

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niksixx · 5 years

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Chapter 5-An Angel in Hell

A/N: If you would like to be tagged, let me know💕

A/N: Reblog and leave comments. They motivate writers ☺️

Tag list: @random-internet-user-4471 @ninavantastisch @kawennote09 @baiabouk @motley-queen @shamelessobsessions @miriampraez @waywardprincess666 @charlyallise @cosmic-strawberryfields @mrs-bucky-wintersoldier-barnes @katiecadaver @angiefangirlworld-2 @vamprlestat @caos18blog @lululovesgwtw @lovesericharrisandnikkisixx @isabellarose5150 @queen-introvert @sharon6713 @anna-nichole-lee @vader-kai @loveofmyloif @rxsesinjune @triplehaitches @primalscrms @freddiessmallnipples @oskea93 @nicholeh7 @letslyn @anxious-diabetic @tarahell @crazysaladchopshop @stella20131991 @malibubarbievince @fandomshit6000 @kellysimagines @star-incandescent @queen-crue @pulpisnotfiction @iamthejeanette @siliwanoel @the--blackdahlia @livewiredroger @borntobeagroupie @sweetshutter @dead4vodka @theabductionofpersephone @lilypetite88 @abbysdogcollar

Sienna

April 25, 1981

Spending the night was the best decision Sienna could have made. Waking up with Nikki sleeping peacefully beside her seemed so…normal. Why did it feel normal?

He had promised to sleep on the small couch in their living area but Sienna wouldn’t let him. It was his place after all, he deserved to sleep in his bed. So finally, after talking for another hour, they fell asleep in Nikki’s bed together, arms wrapped around each other.

Cleaning the apartment would be a great way to thank him, so Sienna quietly, stealthily, slid out from under Nikki’s grasp and tiptoed into the living room. Rubbing her tired eyes, Sienna almost decided to jump back in bed. Chairs were broken, cigarette butts covered the carpet, bottles were shattered, and was that…was that a fucking roach?

Shivering, Sienna slinked around the bug, searching in cabinets until she found a trash bag. Everything was getting tossed. It was only one party; How could the apartment be this filthy?

After leaving two full trash bags on the porch outside, Sienna came back inside, ready to dig around for some wipes when she heard a door creak open. Looking up, she watched as Shelli crept out of Tommy’s room, head down, with her party clothes tucked under her arm.

“Shelli?”

Squealing, Shelli ran to Sienna, covering her mouth harshly. “First, be quiet you moron, they’re sleeping. Second, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Me?” Sienna chuckled. “I stayed the night. What are you doing here, my dear best friend?”

Shelli’s head hung in shame. “I, uh…fuck I had sex with Tommy again. I am such a fucking idiot.”

Sienna gave her a look. “Shel, you know Tommy likes you. Don’t use him.”

Their heads snapped over to the sound of Tommy’s door opening. With wide eyes, Shelli turned to Sienna and whispered, “Fuck, I need to get out of here. Meet me in the car, hurry!” And with that Shelli was out the door just as Tommy appeared in the hallway, blue sweatpants hanging on his hips.

“Where’s Shelli?”

Sighing, Sienna gave Tommy a sympathetic look. The poor guy looked like a sad puppy. “She left, Tommy. I’m really sorry.”

He nodded his understanding, clapping a hand over his knuckle. “She um…doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“Shelli is complicated, Tommy. She doesn’t let people in. Unfortunately, you’re not an exception to that little rule of hers.” Sienna could strangle Shelli. Tommy looked utterly devastated, like he knew Shelli only wanted sex. God, didn’t she tell him that the first time they met?

“Well, hopefully all this running away tires her out. Maybe the next time she comes back, she’ll stay.” Without another word, Tommy headed back in his room.

The sound of Shelli’s car horn sounded through the windows and Sienna angrily dropped the pack of wipes she’d found. Sneaking back into Nikki’s room, her heart squeezed at the sight of him still asleep. Gathering her clothes and phone, she quietly kissed his cheek. And when she saw a crumbled napkin in the corner of his room, she snatched it up quickly, snagged a pen from his desk, and scribbled her number.

“I cannot believe you, Shelli Rodgers. You should have seen the damn look on Tommy’s face.” Sienna hadn’t stopped yelling at Shelli since they’d stepped foot into their apartment. Shelli was wrong and Sienna would make her see that. “That boy really thinks he has a shot with you. Either give him a chance or leave him alone.”

Shelli groaned. “The sex is great. His dick is huge. You really expect me to leave?”

Dumbfounded, Sienna threw her hands up dramatically. How could Shelli not see that what she was doing was completely wrong? “Yes! Shelli, you are using him. Tommy isn’t too bright either because he knows you’re using him but he’s still hanging on to that little shred of hope that maybe one day you’ll actually like him back.”

“You know, you’re a little bit of a hypocrite too,” Shelli spat, shooting off the couch. “You don’t do parties. You don’t sleep with men unless you’re dating them. You haven’t drank in months. And yet you feel the need to scold me when you’re doing all the shit you’ve been against for years?”

Sienna’s cheeks burned. Shelli knew exactly why Sienna had kept away from the party scene. And now she was using it against her. Although maybe she was right. She hadn’t been to a party in over a year, alcohol never touched her lips in months, and she would never find herself in bed with a man until their relationship was serious enough to take things to the next level. But all that changed when she’d met Nikki and it seemed like all her morals went straight out the window.

Shelli sighed. “I’m sorry, okay? But I won’t change. All Tommy has to do is tell me he doesn’t want to see me, and I’ll leave. But he hasn’t, so I’m not going anywhere. And besides, we’re two adults just having some fun. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Huffing, Sienna marched into her room, giving Shelli one last look. “It becomes a problem when one person has feelings for the other. Stop messing with him and grow up.”

Sienna didn’t think anything else could ruin her day, but seeing the Veil almost completely empty was the icing on top of the cake. She hadn’t spoken to Shelli for the rest of the day and Sienna refused to apologize for scolding her. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that she was sleeping around that bothered her. The real issue was that Tommy was Nikki’s best friend.

Sighing, Sienna wrapped her body around the pole, doing everything she could to forget her fight with Shelli. Sienna, Cherry, and Bunny were the only girls working tonight, and all three wanted nothing more than to go home.

And Sienna almost ran out the door when she saw him enter the club. 5 foot 8 inches, buzz cut, tattooed arms, and a killer smirk. He hadn’t changed a bit.

“Well, if it isn’t the most beautiful girl at the club. Why don’t you come here and give me a dance, eh sweetheart?”

His eyes were dark, his voice smooth, and Sienna’s heart pounded, goose bumps forming on her skin as panic washed over her. Dante.

“W-What are you doing here, Dante?” Her voice was shaking as well as her body. Bunny shot her a funny look. God Sienna hope this was just a dream. He couldn’t really be there.

“What does it look like?” She squealed as Dante grabbed her wrist, lowering his voice. “I’m waiting for you to dance for me.”

Flashbacks filled Sienna’s head. Screaming, glass breaking, blood, bruises. She remembered it all. Taking a breath to calm her nerves, she lowered herself onto Dante’s lap, watching as a smirk spread across his lips. “I told you two years ago I’d always find you. You’re my girl, Si.”

“I am not your girl, Dante.” Her voice was sharp and she regretted it instantly once a dark shadow washed over his face. Fuck, she knew better than to speak to him that way. “I’m actually seeing someone.” She felt his body tense underneath her.

“You’re…seeing someone? Who?” He was more than curious as his fists balled at his sides. “Who is it?”

She swallowed nervously. “None of your business, Dante. Now you need to leave me alone after this. We’re done. I’m over you. It’s time you moved on.”

He grabbed her hips roughly, nails digging into her sides. “I will never move on from you. I told you, we’re meant to be together. You need to realize that and stop fighting me.”

“Dante…”

Grabbing her chin between his fingers, Dante brought her face toward him. Tears begged to fall from her eyes. “You belong with me.” And his lips were on hers, the smell of whiskey on his breath strong, tongue forcing its way into her mouth. And when Sienna’s hand connected with Dante’s cheek, she scrambled off his lap just in time as William, the bouncer, yanked Dante to his feet.

“Let’s go, pal.”

Surprisingly, Dante didn’t fight it. Instead, he wiped a drop of blood from his lip with his thumb and gave Sienna a smile, sending chills down her back. “I’ll come back for you, Sienna. I always will.”

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