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#and maybe I could help somebody else in the same place wake up too
motherhenna · 8 months
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am I the only one who's starting to feel like self care culture and therapist speak has lowkey done some serious damage to a lot of mentally ill young people over the last 8 or so years? It's literally the perfect vehicle for justifying insanely unhealthy coping mechanisms and addictions but I haven't heard anybody talking about it on here. Instead, I keep seeing posts that are like "be gentle with yourself: go at whatever pace is comfortable for you" and "it's okay to say no to things you don't want to do" but like...what if that thing you don't want to do is taking a shower or leaving the house or cooking your own meal at home? What if moving at a pace that is "comfortable" for you means you still haven't stopped smoking for the last decade because nicotine withdrawal and anxiety are not "comfortable"? And hey--at least you're only smoking ONE pack a day instead of two now, so that's almost as good as quitting entirely!
I'm saying all this as someone who is only just now coming out the other side and realizing how much of my late teens and twenties I've wasted because of my lack of accountability and aversion to the hard work that's necessary for recovery from addiction, eating disorders, and depression...and the whole time, I thought I was just practicing self care. But a lot of us should probably take a closer look at our behavior and ask ourselves, "is this really self care? Or is this just complacency, fear of failure, and denial?"
There's a word in addiction treatment that's used to describe family members, friends, or partners who give into their deeply disordered loved one's every demand--even when they know it's hurting them: enablers. I've seen a documentary of a 700 lb immobile man who was still managing to pile on weight because his wife went out every day and brought him every kind of junk food he asked for, all while claiming to love him more than anything else. But genuine, healthy love isn't watching your partner literally waste away before your eyes because you'd rather make him happy in the short-term: it's being fucking honest, and helping them get the assistance they need to get better even if you have to drag them kicking and screaming into rehab. And I'm of the belief that a lot of you out there end up confusing self-love / self-acceptance with self-enabling. One is easy while the other requires you to wake up and do the work every single day, even when it's ugly and messy and painful.
And listen--if your therapist has given you the full go-ahead to take the whole "gentle" route, or it's clearly working out really well for you, then by all means: keep at it. But more often than not, I think we need to stop wrapping ourselves in cotton. The way we treat ourselves should be how we'd ideally parent a child: obviously the overly harsh, critical, strict route rife with threats and punishment is a recipe for disaster, but the other extreme can be extremely damaging too. An overly compliant, indulgent parent who gives into their kid's every whim is likely going to produce selfish, entitled brats who have no concept that their actions have consequences. Neither approach is going to do their children many favors in the long run.
While I'm not fond of the boomer bootstrapping rhetoric, as I think a lot of it comes from an extremely skewed perspective of reality and the expectation that "if I can do it, everybody else should be able to do it just as easily", I also can no longer stand by the victimhood mentality so many fellow young millennials / gen z'ers seem to be living by. Because I spent the last ten years wallowing in it and all it gave me was lowered standards, a million excuses, self pity, and obesity. And it fucking sucks to confront the fact that you are ultimately the one who's responsible for your own behavior as an adult: it means you can't just blame it on society or your parents or your illness or whatever 'ism or 'phobia applies. Are all those things contributing factors that should be taken into account? Absolutely. Should you compare your progress to more privileged people's and feel shame that it's taking longer? No. But that doesn't mean you have no control of your life and choices--that you're powerless to do anything but wait for someone else to save you. Unless you're literally being held hostage at gunpoint, there are always things you can do to `improve your life and yourself. So next time you want to give up on a dream of yours, or justify not changing out of your pajamas for a fortnight in the name of self care, maybe ask yourself what an enabler would do vs. what a true friend would do
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7ndipity · 11 months
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Falling for a friend: Maknae line
Maknae line x Reader
Summary: How they would handle and confess to having romantic feelings for a friend
Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking,
A/N: As promised, here's the maknae line lists! I'll also link Hyung line here in case you haven't read those. Hope you like them!
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Jimin:
Tbh, Jimin was the hardest member for me figure out, because the only word that came to mind was 'confusion'.
Like, it would be a near 180 from Namjoon's scenario. No one knows wtf is actually going on with you two, except maybe him. And even he's all over the place about it.
(Literally half your friend group thought you were already dating? Help?!)
It's not even like he intentionally meant to confuse you(or at least, not completely), but he's such a naturally massive flirt that sometimes it's hard to tell where you stand with him.
Honestly feels kinda guilty when he realizes his feelings aren't purely platonic, cause he's not sure if you feel the same, so he kinda starts testing the waters, like Hobi, to see how you respond, but starts to worry if he's manipulating the situation to fit his wants.
Big on casual affection, both giving and receiving, but he's kinda sly about it. Says shit like "oh, your nails/rings/etc look so cool!" so he can grab your hand to examine them and then just... doesn't let go?
Flops his head in your lap and is just like 🥺"Pet my hair?"(he's basically like having an overly affectionate cat)
But heaven forbid you get too close or flirt with somebody else, because he will get salty af and sulk.
Finally confesses one night when he comes over to hang out after a particularly long day. As had become typical routine, the two of you were sat side by side on the floor at your coffee table, eating takeout and watching TV.
At ease for the first time all day, he could feel the fatigue begining to catch up with him, letting his head droop to rest on your shoulder. Without missing a beat, you offered him another bite of food, which he accepted with a muffled "thank you."
The two of you stayed like this til the end of your show, him looking up at you sleepily, a small smile teasing at the corners of his mouth as he watched you, his heart giving a little twist.
"I love you."
You looked down at him in surprise, his expression leaving no room for misunderstanding.
"I love you too." You replied.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You smiled.
"Good." He shifts around so that he can wrap his arms around you more comfortably, pressing a kiss to your cheek before settling against you again.
Feeling his breaths begin to even out against your neck, you feel yourself being lulled to sleep, sinking further into his hold.
The two of you wake up later in the same position with sore necks, but you couldn't care less.
Taehyung:
Honestly? Unbothered(lying)
Don't misunderstand, it's not that he doesn't care about those feelings, it's more that he doesn't mind them, if that makes sense? Like, of course he's in love with you, who wouldn't be?
Pendulum swings between cocky and shy with you.
Easily impressed by you doing anything. He hears you sing and he's like🥺. Doesn't matter if you sound like an angel or a cat trapped in trash can, he's so down hard for you and applauding either way.
Thrives on skinship with you, giving out hugs for anything. You passed an exam/got a promotion? Hugs. You bought his favorite snacks? Hugs. You breathe? HUGS!
Doesn't hide his feelings for you, but doesn't act on them either.
Like, y'all have sleepovers and he'll joke like "And there was only one bed!" But then nothing ever happens.
Kinda likes the weird limbo state you're in, until he thinks someone else is also into you and he turns into a sulky baby, ranting about it to one of his hyungs. "What are you so worried about, I thought you guys were already a thing?" "No, it's not like that." "Then what is it?" And he just doesn't have a good answer for that.
"Truth or dare?"
"Truth." You say, scraping more batter out of the bowl sat between the two on your tiny kitchen table as you played the game that had become a habit for you.
"When did you realize you were falling for me?" He asks with a cheeky grin.
"Dare."
"You can't change answers now!" He laughed.
"Says who?"
"Me!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were on the official rule committee for truth or dare."
"If you don't answer, I win."
"You always win." You grumbled, making him grin, thinking that was the end of it.
"My birthday."
He looked back up at you surprise, not having expected to actually get an answer. "What?"
"It was right after I had moved here, and I didn't really know anyone yet, except you." You said, fiddling with your spoon.
"I remember." He said, watching you closely.
"But you showed up with balloons and a cake, saying you couldn't let me be alone." You shrugged. "I don't know, it made me feel... special."
You were now very aware of his eyes on you, making you nervous you'd said too much. "Nevermind, it's dumb-"
Before you could finish, he had caught your face in his hands and kissed you.
Jungkook:
As I think I've mentioned before, I think he gets small crushes pretty easily, to the point that when he notices the shift in his feelings for you, he doesn't really acknowledge it at first, figuring it'll go away in week or two, no biggie.
But then it doesn't.
And then he panics a lil bit. Ghosts you for like three days, then goes back to normal without any explanation, and you're just like "???okay???"
He decides he's just gonna play it cool, but he is not nearly as subtle as he thinks he is.
You're each other's comfort person, so you're together constantly which means even a tiny shift in his habits or behavior stands out.
Although it's not hard to notice how much clingier he's become(and jealous of FUCKING EVERYONE), so it's not difficult to put two and two together.
Would probably have realized you like him too, if he weren't so busy trying to act slick and come up with excuses to hang out all the time.
Y'all play flirt constantly too, which blurrs the lines between 'friend' and 'definitely not friend' even more, but sometimes you manage to catch him off guard.
One night when you're hanging out together, and he's a couple drinks in and lets his guard down. And you complement him on how good he looks or smth, and he just smirks.
"You want me so bad." He says in a low voice, trying to tease you,
And it's then as you're sitting there watch him, you decide fuck it, and just put it out there.
"Yeah, I do."
Nearly giving himself whiplash from how fast he spins around, he turns to stare at you wide eyed. "Wait, what?!"
"What?"
"You said-." His eyes are so big now, you can almost see the wheels turning as he tries to make sense of what just happened. "You like me?"
"Yeah." You shrug, trying to play it off. "Is that okay?"
He nods slowly, a smile beginning to creep across his features. "I like you too."
You're both suddenly aware of how close you're both now sitting.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, already starting to lean in, before jumping back abruptly.
"Wait, ugh, my breath stinks like beer, lemme go brush my teeth!" He says, practically vaulting over the sofa and running for the bathroom, leaving you sitting there, unable to bite back the laugh that slips out because he's just so... him.
But that's why you love him.
Taglist: @fandems
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nkirukaj · 1 month
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The Radio Demon & the Billboard Doe (14)
Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC
Warnings: Swearing; Sexual Activity
Genre: Angst/Fluff & SMUT (& Humor!)
Word Count: 8.1K
<Chapter 13
14. Look at Me
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Voe wakes up bright and early at around 10 AM (progress okay?), she enjoys the time she spends doing her makeup, so she decided to add some small earrings to her new ears. Her makeup was light and casual, but just enough to feel in control of herself. She pranced down the stairs with delight and spotted everyone in the parlor conversing and having a grand old time. She spots Angel in the crowd and skips up to him, hugging him from behind.
He’s shocked and caught off guard by this display of affection.
“What the hell- Oh hey,” he turns around inside of her embrace
She looks up at him with bright eyes “Hi,” she says happily
“Uh, did ya need something?”
She nods “I needed to say ‘thank you,’”
He blushes slightly “Oh, no problem. You doing okay?” She nods again “Yes,”
“Good,” he rubs the back of his neck and smiles at her
“You’re such a good friend,”
“I was just, helping out..” he sounds nervous but flattered
“Yeah, that’s why you’re a good friend”
He ponders “Yeah, I guess so,”
She hugs him tighter, placing her head on his torso, and smiling, he hugs her back, placing his head on top of her head.
“Awww you guys!” Charlie spots them hugging “That is so sweet!”
They pull back “Whatever,” Angel flips down his shades “I’m going to work,”
“As am I darling,” Voe fakes a British accent “So long!” as they head out the door
Voe has to walk twice as fast to keep up with Angel. “So I have something to tell you,”
“Okay?”
“So..remember I was telling you about my rut?”
“Mhmm,”
“And then you said I should try and fuck somebody?”
“Mhmmm,” he raises an eyebrow
She takes a deep breath before saying “I had sex with Lucifer,”
He raises his shades to look down at her “First off, not really surprised, but look at you!”
“Yeah yeah yeah, but that’s not it,”
“Well, what else?”
“Afterwards, I wasn’t really…I don’t know how to say it…but I guess satisfied?”
“He didn’t make you cum? OH shit!”
She shakes her head “No, he did. Multiple times, actually. But…you know how sometimes, you get hungry and then you eat something, and it’s good, but then when you’re done, you know that’s not the thing you wanted to eat?”
“I guess?”
“Yeah, it felt like that.”
“Maybe you wanted to fuck someone else?”
She nods “I thought so too. So I had sex with Velvette.”
His eyes widen “Uhuh…?”
“Still the same thing.”
He tilts his head “Well that’s good, cuz you wouldn’t want to be with her like that anyway.”
She looks around “Yeah, but I don’t know what to do.”
“Keep fucking everyone until you find the right one?”
She rolls her head back “Yeah, but that’s exhausting!”
He shrugs “I don’t know, but I gotta go. Good luck with your sex journey.”
She purses her lips “Be safe,” 
“You too, love,” he salutes her jokingly and walks through the doors to Val’s studio. Voe takes a breath, watching him leave before heading up to Velvette’s. 
Alastor sat in his room caressing his cheek. Her handprint was gone, but he could still feel the heat of the flame from her palm. Alastor hadn’t felt anything as invigorating as that slap. The conversation came back to mind, the intensity, the yelling, Voe being able to stand her ground against him…
Alastor was a truly refined man, but the months of October through December always tested his resolve. Whenever he was closest to losing control, it was during those months. He was constantly warm, his muscles tense, his breathing heavy, skin sensitive, and his heart rate faster than it had ever been when he was alive. His face burned as thoughts of carnal desires raced through his mind. He felt ashamed and somewhat disgusted with himself, he found himself to be above such things that drive other sinners wild, above their frivolous desires and weaknesses, but every year this time got to him. He usually sequestered himself around this time to make sure he can control himself. Nowadays he couldn’t do that, he was always needed and every time he left his room there was a chance to run into…her.
She’d been a thorn in his side since the very beginning, but her smell was addicting, and every moment spent in her presence was a moment to watch her in action, doing things. It was hard for him to explain, but he felt drawn to her, it was involuntary, magnetic, a compulsion to watch everything she did. Whether it be standing, walking, dancing, or just talking; while watching her he felt…happy? Maybe excited? Something about the movement of her waist and, pardon his French, derrière drove him up the wall with joy. Though nothing could compare to her lips; as he told her they were quite plump and soft-looking, perfectly round, and two contrasting but perfectly complimentary colors. They looked perfectly sculpted by an expert artist. When he watched her he felt like he had walked into a living art museum, and she was her own exhibit. She brought him joy. Simply put, she was beautiful, gorgeous, stunning. 
Engaging with her was frustrating, she was strong-willed and would never back down from him, her smugness and cockiness infuriating but exciting. Her behavior was interesting and her thoughts showed that she may be worthy of equal footing to him. He wanted to know more, wanted to get closer. Perhaps physical? Maybe a pat or a holding of her arm? Her waist?
Being around her made this time much harder. Adding to the physical reactions and the inappropriate thoughts, were thoughts of her. Daydreams or simple imaginations. And sometimes…the thoughts would mix. Thoughts of her helping him out and providing him with her…company. Then he would see her in person and it would be quite difficult to keep those thoughts from resurfacing. Like he said, every year around this time he would seclude himself, but being around her made him not want to. 
Entering Velvette’s studio she saw Velvette of course, looking through papers on a clipboard. Sitting in the corner of the space was Vox; stewing on his chair as he looked her up and down with contempt then made a show of looking away from her. She darts her eyes away from the man to focus on her boss.
“Ah! There you are! Good morning darling!” Velvette embraces her and kisses her on the lips. Voe nervously glances toward Vox in the corner, who only glares at her more and more angrily. “Just the doe I wanted to see. I have big plans for you, love!”
“Uh Velvette? What’s with flat screen over there?”
She glances back at Vox “Oh, him? He’s just here to help me with advertising,”
“Advertising what?” “Well, that’s the news! I’m planning a runway show. Starring you! And I want you to help me plan it!”
She widens her eyes “Really? Why?”
“Well, I based it off of you, so who better to help plan it? We’re going to recruit some more models that look a bit like you for this, but of course, there’s no beating a fucking original!” She grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her
Vox scoffs from the corner of the room “I could think of people,”
“Oh hush Vox! We’re done talking, you can leave now!”
Vox stands to his full height and exits the studio, glaring at Voe all the way out.
“Uh, what’s his problem?” She asks her boss
She shrugs “Ever since the interview, he thinks you’ve been lying to him about the Alastor stuff. I won’t let him hurt you but, watch your back.” She puts her hand on Voe’s shoulder 
“Yikes,” Voe pulls at her collar
“Anyway!” she claps “We have so much work to do.”
They discussed the clothing designs and the sizes that should be offered, and Velvette allowed Voe to pick the model candidates while caressing her thigh.
“You know you could stay here,” Velvette whispered in her ear “Since we have so much work to do, and we’ll be spending so much time together. I thought maybe you’d consider just staying here with me. We could have a whole new room made for you….” she draws circles on her thigh “Or you could sleep in my room with me,”
Voe clears her throat, smiling “Thank you, I will consider it.”
Velvette seems quite offended at the lack of a ‘yes’ “Whatever,” she rolls her eyes “Oh! By the way, Vox also wanted to know if you had any more information on the Red Beast?”
“Umm? He brought me home after the disaster at the club,” she offers
Vox immediately kicks down the door “HE WHAT?!”
“My DOOR! DAMMIT VOX!” she rubs her forehead “She’s saying that Alastor brought her home from the club.”
Vox grins “Oh did he?”
“Very interesting isn’t it?”
She drops her hands to her sides and purses her lips “Yeah, when I woke up I was in my bed. He said that he carried me and tucked me in. He even gave me a glass of water.”
Vox and Velvette grin at each other devilishly. “Really? Is there anything that he said in particular? Anything you two talked about?”
“Like what?”
“Anything at all?”
She puts her finger on her chin “We talked, but about a lot of stuff.”
“What did you talk about? Tell us everything.”
“Well, he mostly kept asking why I licked him-“
Vox laughed out loud “H-HA HA HA. I’m sorry, You licked him? Why-Never mind I don’t care. Anything else, my dear?” He’s suddenly looking down on her with happy eyes 
“Uh, yeah. I…kinda slapped him..”
“Really?” Velvette asked. Voe nods “And you’re still alive?”
She looks down at herself “Alive as I can be.”
“Someone’s going soft,” Velvette glances at a grinning Vox “Anymore?”
“I… asked why he wanted to do radio.”
“Really?” Vox leans down, grin getting wider “What did he tell you?”
Vel scoffs “Better not be anything sentimental and boring,”
“Uh, then you’re gonna be disappointed,”
“Ugh,”
She takes some time to recall “He said, it was because, on the radio, your looks don’t matter, as long as you have the voice.” She smiles to herself thinking of his poignant words
The air is silent before Velvette and Vox break out into manic laughter, Vox especially. 
Vox wipes a digital tear from his eye “I’m sorry, is that all?” he straightens his tie
Voe is unsure of what was so funny, but she guessed it wasn’t a joke for her to get “Uh, yes. That’s all,”
“Alright,” Vox says, standing tall “Velvette?”
“I know what to do,” she says, typing into her phone “Okay, you’re dismissed.” She waves Voe away, and the doe gets up and leaves. She heard their cackling through the closing door.
____________________________________________________
“So, everyone is probably wondering why today’s activity is at night, and that is because my dad,” Charlie gestures toward Lucifer “Is so busy during the day and he wanted to join the activity. So let’s give my dad a round of applause,” the resident’s clap for their King, Voe especially
“Amazing parenting,’ she jokingly says toward Lucifer, who is sitting next to her, with his hand on her thigh
Charlie seems slightly put off by it but continues on anyway “Tonight’s activity is simple. We’re just going to say how our days were, and our favorite parts. And we’re gonna go popcorn style, so whoever wants to go can just go!”
“I’ll go,” Angel pipes up from the other side of Voe
“Oh wow, Angel! That is amazing! Go ahead!”
“Woo Angel!” Voe cheers for her friend
“Well, the good news is that I finished work early, and my favorite part was that I scored some heroin.”
Charlie’s eyes are wide “Not exactly the kind of news I was looking for, but great job! Seriously, amazing!”
“Where’d you score heroin? Where’d you get it from?” Voe whispers to the spider
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
She nods “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking,” but he just ignores her
Lucifer clears his throat “I’d like to go next. My day was great because I got to spend it with my daughter and meet new incoming sinners. My favorite part was getting to know them and helping them find a place to stay,”
“Dad! That’s amazing!” The residents clap again
“He’s amazing! Best King I’ve ever seen,” Voe says smiling at him
“Who’s next?” Charlie asks
No one goes.
“C’mon! Don’t be shy!” She scans the crowd “Voe! Why don’t you go next?!”
“What the fuck?”
“Please?” She rolls her eyes “Um, I guess my day was cool. My boss wants me to help plan a runway show-“
“Aw, that’s amazing!”
Voe lightens up at the validation “And the clothing line is based on me and my body type,”
“Wow Voe! You’re really making a name for yourself in Pentagram City! I’m so proud of you!”
The residents clap for her
Angel scoffs “No one clapped for me,”
“Well, I’m just glad that I’m earning more of my boss’s favor, so I guess that’s my favorite part,”
“Yeah, much more,” Angel mumbles under his breath and Voe elbows him
“That’s all.” She smiles at Charlie
“Great job!”
Lucifer whispers in her ear “Great job Ducky, I should reward you later,”
She turns to him and they grin at each other, and she gives him a playful warning look.
Alastor stands a few feet behind the parlor couch where the two of them sit. He glares at their playful joy.
“Guys come on,” Vaggie pipes up “This is part of your redemption, just tell us how your day was. It could literally be one word.”
“I’d love to participate!” Alastor raises his cane
Charlie blinks “Really?”
“Yes of course! We’re all a community!” he shrugs “My day was quite splendid!”
“Okay?” Vaggie questioned, waiting for more
“You did say it could be one word,”
Vaggie’s lips form into a straight line “Okay, thank you Alastor. What an amazing example!” She says sarcastically
Lucifer, the pigeon, has a smug grin as he whispers something into Voe’s ear and she starts to giggle, hitting him playfully. Alastor’s rage grew every second he stared at the two of them, canoodling like they were close friends, or worse, something more.
“Hmm, discussing ways to fix that ‘depression’?”
The whole room grows silent.
“Wow,” Angel deadpans “Talk about douchebaggery,”
Even Husker is surprised at the level of assholery that came out of his boss’s mouth.
Voe turns around, giving Alastor a disgusted look “Alastor, mental health is not something to joke about. Depression is…serious.” She just looks disappointed in him. She turns and comforts Lucifer “I’m sorry Luci, I don’t even know why he would say that.” She kisses his forehead
Alastor looks around to see no comfort in anyone’s eyes “I have things to do,” he says before dissipating into the shadows
Voe wraps her arms around Lucifer’s shoulders
Later that night as Angel was walking back to his room, a familiar cloud of shadow appeared in front of him, they faded away to reveal Alastor, already looking annoyed at his presence. Angel does a double take, seeing no one else in the hallway.
“Holy shit, is this going where I think it’s going? Finally!” he puts his hands on Alastor’s shoulders “Well, I prefer missionary, but-“
“Get your hands off me,” Alastor speaks quietly and evenly, but with much anger behind it
“Okay, maybe it’s not.” Angel drops his hands
Alator stands his cane on the floor “Tell me what you know about Voe,”
Angel leans on one of his legs “What about her? There’s a lot to know,”
“What is happening between her and…Lucifer?” He grits his teeth just saying the King’s name “You agree they seemed awfully close during tonight’s activity, yes?”
Angel smirks “Why do you wanna know?”
“I just do.”
Angel’s amusement rises “Are you jealous Smiles? Is that why you said that tasteless joke back there?”
“I just believe that she can do better,”
“Like you?” he raises his brows
Alastor tilts his chin up “Looking at you, maybe there is a brain up there,” he taps Angel’s head with his cane
Angel swats the cane away “Look, you should really be asking her all this, why you coming to me?”
“Because I did. Now tell me what is going on between them.”
Angel leans against the wall “It’s not my information to tell-“
Niffty scurries up between the two men “Hi Angel, Hi sir! I heard you guys talking! Mommy and the Bad Boy have sexy times! I’ve heard them through the door! It sounded really dirty. I wanted to clean, but they wouldn’t let me in!”
“Oh,” Alastor responds in surprise “Thank you, sweetie,” he pats Niffty’s head “Have a good night Angel!” Alastor calls as he walks down the hall
The spider glances at Niffty “What?” she asks “I hear you in your room too!” she bounces excitedly
______________________________________________________________
A/N: There’s smut a coming!
I think he really wanted some attention today. he told some tasteless joke about depression
🤭😭😂
After texting her boss Voe plugs in her phone, leaving it on the nightstand face down, turning her lamp off, and closing her eyes. If not to sleep then to at least relax herself into peaceful imaginations. 
After barely two seconds of having her eyes closed she felt a cool-ish breeze in her room in the direction that her back was facing, which was odd since her room was usually kept warm. She turns to face her bedroom door, seeing only darkness, with her ears twitching all the while. She picks up one of her pillows and throws it at the darkness, where it reaches a certain point, and then explodes into feathers. She lets out a sigh mixed with a grunt.
“What?”
Alastor opens his crimson eyes and speaks “Hello, my doe”
She was annoyed but couldn’t help blushing at being referred to as his doe. Was he claiming her as his?
“What?” she repeats herself
He takes a step toward her bed “Well that isn’t a very polite way to speak to your…friend.” he says the word like it’s dripping from his teeth
“Yeah? Since when are you concerned with being polite?”
“Since right now, of course. Keep up.”
She rolls her eyes “What do you want?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you,”
Voe’s breath gets caught in her throat. There is no way he just said that to her. He must’ve meant it in a sick twisted way “Like for dinner? Or a snack?”
He chuckles, clearly amused “Speaking of snacks, I went to look for you in the kitchen and you weren’t there,”
“Obviously, because I’m up here,”
“Yes. Why?”
She crosses her arms “I wasn’t hungry tonight,”
“Yes, I suppose you’ve gotten full off of… apples,”
She raises her eyebrow “What?”
 “Truly, my doe I simply thought you had better taste and better manners than that,”
She stands off the bed and walks over to him “What do you mean exactly?”
“Just that it’s rude to vie for the affection of one man while entertaining another,”
Voe stares up at him in disbelief “Are you calling me a slut?”
Alastor sounds playful “No, of course not! I’m simply saying that I was unaware that you were starving this much for attention. If I had known, I would have obliged much sooner.” He looks at his nails
She squints “Say what you want to say to me Alastor,” her tone turns serious
“There’s something about you. I can’t behave normally when you’re near. I am thrown off kilter and my mind scrambles when you are present.” He turns his head downward “And I can feel it even when you’re not,”
Her eyes pierce into his “And?”
“I smell you everywhere.” He speaks through his teeth
Voe rubs her eyes and stares up at him “What?”
“You are deliciously suffocating.”
“Oh yeah? What do I smell like?”
“Hot, wet, sweet, and…sticky”
“Oh,” she blushes shifting the orientation of her legs
“I hear you’re getting hot and sweaty with Lucifer. I cannot believe that you would do that to yourself. That absolute turkey doesn’t deserve you.” He steps closer to her
“Really? And who does?” She questions somewhat mockingly 
He grabs her waist and presses her against the door “Me.” He says, sounding full of rage and lust
Voe looks up at him, feeling a tingle in her chest “Um, to be honest, I’m really turned on right now..? I’m not sure if you’re doing that on purpose or…”
“Do you actually think that I can just exist normally, with you walking around, acting and…looking like that?
“Like what?”
“All…like that,” he gestures to her face and body 
“Like what?!”
He squeezes her waist “Gorgeous,” he growls down at her 
Her neck flushes, but she bites back “What about you, huh? Am I supposed to just go about my day after you growl in my ear and get all up in my face? “ she waves her hands in her face “Your 7ft tall ass, looking down at me with those sexy piercing eyes, touching me with those long fingers…” she slows down her words “and sharp claws I want you to scratch me with.”
He forcefully shoves her up against her door, the pain rattles through her and ignites a fire in her core.
“Your curvaceous body, begging to be cupped and seized by my hands.”
“Those teeth I want you to sink into my skin,”
“Those lips I crave to feel on me,” his voice lowers in pitch and volume
“Those antlers I dream of holding onto,” 
“You smell amazing,” they both breathe out
Alastor reorients himself, takes a breath, and continues “I should like to make a deal with you.” 
“I will own my soul for the rest of my existence Alastor,” she spoke assuredly and somewhat flatly
“Not for your soul,” he approaches her, cupping her chin, the tips of his long, slender fingers almost reaching the bottom of her eyes. This forces her to turn her neck up to see him “I need something from you.” His voice lowered in pitch and sounded more intimate. 
She raises an eyebrow “You. Need something from me?” She sounded quite incredulous “What?” She crosses her arms, and he drops his hand, her head still angled upwards. 
“I am…in a bit of a rut.” She looks slightly confused. He gestures towards his slightly bigger antlers “A rut.” 
Her eyes widen as she processes the meaning of his words. “Mhmm..”
"I need your company to help me through it. In exchange, I will owe you a favor on your terms," he said.
She snorted. "My company?"
"Yes," he said, dragging the word out and straining his smile as his eyes betrayed annoyance at her lack of understanding. It took her a minute or so to comprehend the truth behind his request.
"Oh! My company! You want me to..." She widened her eyes and grinned slyly, clearly aware that she held the power in the situation despite Alastor's attempts to portray otherwise. She was a bit embarrassed to admit that she didn’t think the Radio Demon would be affected by mating season. "Why me?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. Her smirk grew as she saw the impatience in his eyes and the way he tightened his fingers into a fist to avoid grabbing her immediately.
“You are just the least objectionable option within my vicinity, darling. Don’t think too much about it.” He went back to sounding as though he was performing in front of an audience.  
“Okay but, the ‘great’ Radio Demon never was one to settle for the ‘least objectionable’ option. No, Alastor has to have the best!” She leans into him “Am I the best?” She asks in a mocking tone. 
“Think what you want my dear. Besides, you are a doe. It just makes sense. Do we have a deal or not?”
“Okay…I will give you my company, but in addition to the favor,” she pauses, crossing her arms and placing a finger on her chin. “You have to let me touch you,”
“During..?”
“And after. Indefinitely.” She says, her tone confident and unwavering  “Do we have a deal?” She sticks her hand out to him. 
He squints at her, rolling his eyes, not exactly loving the terms, but considering that he was somewhat desperate and physically needed her at this point, he sighs, “Fine.” And takes her hand, the room lighting up with green as the deal is struck. 
They stand there in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something.
“So how shall we proceed?” Alastor asks, his cheeks the same shade as his eyes
Voe’s eyes widen “Oh you want it now!” she exclaims, Alastor giving a curt nod in response. She looks up at him “Do you not know what to do?” she takes a step toward him
“Well… I’m not exactly sure how to get started.” He says playing with his fingers
“You were around in the 1920s there’s no way you don’t know what sex is.”
“I know,” he hissed at her “what it is. I just haven’t…indulged in that kind of activity.” He looks away from her, and his hands grip his cane as though he doesn’t know what to do with them
Voe’s mouth dropped open, “Are you a virgin?” Alastor doesn’t answer, but turns fully away from her “You’re a virgin!” She whispers with a grin “Hey, turn around” he does “I’m not judging, I’m just flattered that I’ll be your first.” She bats her eyelashes at him
“Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is my dear.” 
Voe’s eyes turn from doe to siren in an instant “Let me hold your cane.” She asserts. 
Initially, Alastor rejects this but is soothed by her humming as she wraps her fingers around the part of it in his hand, and removes it from him, examining it, and carefully placing it against a wall. 
“Sit please.” He obliges, unaware of why he’s even obeying her in the first place. She carefully removes his coat, hanging it on a hanger, humming all the while. When she returns she places her hands on his shoulders.
“You’re so…” she runs through all his qualities “confident. So ruthless, and so powerful.” She faces him towards the mirror “I’m truly honored that you came to me for assistance.” Her hand slinks around his throat, her other hand removing his monocle. Alastor is tense at the touch, but since she is gentle and caring with her fingers, he easily settles and becomes comfortable. 
“To be able to manifest anything, or destroy anyone that comes your way,” she bites her lip and sucks in some air “Never in my life did I meet a man that powerful,” her grip slightly tightens around his throat, while her other hand is sliding down his chest. “It’s so sexy..”
She circles back around to the front of the chair and places both hands on the armrests, standing above him. 
“Can I sit on your lap, Bambi?” She smirks 
Alastor reaches out and pulls her on top of him. “Ooh,” she cooed, placing her hands on his chest “I’m going to take these off okay?” She pinches his vest and shirt. 
“Proceed,” he watches her carefully as she unbuttons and removes the vest, draping it across the back of the chair. When she reaches for the shirt, he grabs her wrist “It seems unfair that you haven’t removed any of your clothing, doesn’t it my dear?” His brows furrowed 
She snickers and pulls her wrist free “Okay,” she smiles flirtatiously and pulls her shirt up over her head, leaving a bralette “Is that better?”
“Much,” his voice bordering on a growl
She makes quick work of the buttons and Alastor tenses before she removes the garment. 
“Everything all right?”
“Everything is…fine.” He looks away from her and she turns him back by his chin
“We can stop if you’re feeling uncomfortable, remember that” he nods once and watches her pull off his shirt to reveal a torso covered in scars. On his chest, his stomach, and even his neck. The largest one from Adam, going from his left shoulder diagonally to the top of his stomach. Voe marvels at them, tracing her hands and fingers over them, eyes wide and lips hanging apart. Her nails were trailing behind her fingertips, leaving a slightly pleasant sting behind. She gets lost in his scars before she looks back up at him, her lower lip between her teeth. 
“Would you like me to take off my bralette?” She whispers
“Your…bra?”
She smiles as if he’s amusing “It’s a bralette” She chuckles
He holds onto her waist as if his life depended on it “Yes,” he stares at her chest intensely as she raises the fabric over her head, freeing her breasts from their caging. Alastor’s neck reddens slightly as his body grows warm, staring at her newly naked flesh. 
“Would you like to touch me here?” 
“Yes,”
She grabs his wrists, placing each hand on a breast gently. He instinctually massages them, feeling her hard nipples against his palms. She shuts her eyes as she pulls her lips in, chest vibrating from her moans. He gets rougher with his touches and her moans get louder. His cock jumps in his pants, against her clothed cunt. The jump opens her eyes and she touches his chest. 
“Stop.” She breathes out “Or I’m gonna cum early” she laughs
She presses her body against his, hugging him, both of them topless. “How does this feel?”
“Fine, my dear” he responds, grateful she cares about his comfort level, but also growing impatient at the slow pace. She can feel his heart racing, and he can feel hers. 
“Do you want to remove your own pants?” She asks, still holding his body against hers. 
“Yes,”
She removes herself allowing him to stand and remove his pants, unsheathing a thick and long beige-ish gray cock with a tuft of red pubic hair above it. 
Voe’s eyes are wide as can be and her eyebrows up to her hairline. 
Alastor starts to feel self-conscious and vulnerable as she stares, “What?” He snaps
Voe blinks “Where have you been hiding that?”
“Under my clothes?”
“Um no, there has to be some sorcery involved, because when you wear clothes you look flat as a board, now I find out you have a whole log between your legs!”
“I don’t know what to tell you, my dear,” he shrugs, his grin turning cocky
She grins “Oh now I’m super excited for this!” She claps, going to remove her pants when Alastor reaches out
“Wait,” And she does. “I would like to do it,”
She wears a wide grin “Okay,” her voice deep and melodic
Alastor bends over to pull her shorts down. 
“It’s easier with you on your knees,” her smirk never wavering. She lifts her leg, placing her foot on his shoulder to press him down into a kneeling position which he acquiesces to. Once on his knees he removes her pants and helps her step out of them. Once only her panties were left, he stared at the garment, placing her foot back on his shoulder to stuff his face into her clothed core, taking in the scent that had been taunting him for weeks.
“Ah!” She yelps at the suddenness of his actions. His nose unknowingly stimulates her erect clit “Oh! Mmmfuck…” she reflexively rolls her hips against his face, creating more friction and more drippage that he longs to sniff. “Oh my gosh, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum on your face!” she whispers
He inhales her scent once more before removing the lace garment, seeing trimmed red pubic hair adorning her light brown vulva. He looks up at her from on his knees and she extends a hand to him which he takes and stands to his full height. 
“Oh my gosh, you do have a tail! And hooves!” She announced in shock and delight 
“Tell this to no one,” he states sternly. He clears his throat “Please,”
“It’s cute,” she touches his face “I love your body,” she speaks sincerely at a low volume. She boops his nose and it twitches in response. 
“You can’t love it as much as I love yours,” he drags his thumb down her plump lips. She catches the digit inside them, sucking on it to her heart’s content. His face turns a similar shade to his hair. For once he was speechless, the rest of his fingers under her chin. His cock twitches in the air, her eyes darting down to view it. With his thumb still between her teeth, she grins. She removes it from her mouth. 
“Wanna bet?”
“Honestly I am…frightened of taking that bet,”
Her grin turns evil “Smart man,” she winks
“So…what now?” He looks around 
She claps “If this is going to happen, you need to take off that radio filter. You’re talking to me, not a mic”
“Okay…” he says without it, squinting at her
“Ooh, that’s better,” she pushes him into a sitting position on her bed “Now, we need to discuss positions.”
“All right,”
“What position would you like to try?”
His face is full of confusion “My dear, I have no idea to what you are referring,”
She chuckles “How would you like our bodies to be while I give you my company?”
“I suppose I shall take the lead?”
“Of course, you will,” she turns her head “Just like a man too,” she jokes under her breath
“Hmm?” He tilts his head
“Nothing!” She claps again “Anyway! There are many positions where you can take the lead. Such as doggystyle/leapfrog, butterfly, lazy dog-“
“You have experience in..all of these?”
She grins “Yes,”
“What do you propose for a..novice like me?” He sounds annoyed and self-conscious at once, not being the one in control
She taps her chin “Hmm. Is there anything specific that you’d like to happen?”
He thinks “Well, I’d love to stare at your pretty face”
She nods “Alright perfect! We can do missionary!”
“Missionary?”
“Mhmm. One of the simplest and most common positions. You probably know of it, just not by its name. Great for a newbie like you!”
She climbs on the bed next to him, laying on her back. “Come.” She orders “You get on top of me,”
“Alright,” 
He crawls toward her, sliding into the space above her. He places his hands on either side of her, holding himself up while climbing on top. 
“Because you want to see my face?” she asks playfully, smiling up at him. “Do you think I’m pretty?” she teases. He doesn’t answer, so she runs her hand through his hair and scratches a spot behind his ear. His eyes widen and his ears stand up, but then relax, as does the rest of his face. His smile becomes less about dominance and more about joy. “Tell me I’m pretty,” she breathes out to him. Finally, he speaks, “You’re quite beautiful, darling.” before he sinks his teeth into the skin of her neck, drawing blood. He licks it up and she moans, liking the pain. 
The weight of him on top of her was comfortable and cold. A nice chill to offset her warmth. He was thin, but not enough to see his bones. She pulled him closer as he bit and licked on her skin, leaving marks all around her neck and collarbone. 
“You’re so cute without your monocle,” she giggles and tells him when he comes up from her neck, still running her hands through his hair, touching and caressing his ears, which were twitching in response. 
“Are you still hard?” She flutters her lashes
“Yes…” he’s looking down at her face, still flushing 
“Let’s be sure,” her eyes are lidded as she drags her tongue across her palm, reaches down and grips his cock, to which he makes a buck grunt. Her eyes light up “Ooh, Bambi likes,” as she starts pumping the shaft. 
Alastor is embarrassed by his animalistic instincts, but the pleasure is too overwhelming for him to care. He’s letting out elk bugle sounds as she pumps him faster and faster, his cock hardening in her hand.
Voe is impressed with herself “That’s better,” She rubs the tip of his dick against her wet folds, causing herself to whimper. She positions it right at the entrance of her cunt, him feeling her wetness leaking out, oh so ready for him. “When you’re ready, just thrust forward, okay?”
He enters her, following her advice. The wet warmth greets him like he is coming back home. His eyes flutter and roll back, Voe closes her eyes, processing the pleasure. 
“You still don’t like me?” She grins devilishly after seeing his reaction, bites her lip and moans. “Still don’t like my attitude?”
He ignores her taunting in favor of checking in with her. He could feel her all around him as he presses through her heat “Are you alright?” He grunts out
“Yes, I’m fine”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she licks her teeth “Look who’s being gentlemanly.”
“I’m always gentlemanly.”
“Right. Is that in between being creepy and committing murders?” She smiles up at him. He flattens his brows and pushes himself deeper inside her at an agonizingly slow pace. She moans from the sensation, then groans from the pace. 
“Faster please,” she moans with her head back
He grips her thick thighs, his claws scratching against her soft flesh as he pushes himself deeper into her. She pulls his head down into her chest and bites his ear. Another bleat escapes his mouth “Look at me” she growls into the ear she had between her teeth, then lifts his head to leave kisses along his chin and throat.  Alastor grabs her wrists and pins them above her head, her face sprouting a smirk; as he thrusts into her forcefully. 
“Uh..yes. Keep doing that. Fuck…mmm…give it to me please,” She throws her head back exposing her neck. He grabs her chin and pulls her head back down.
“Look at me,” he purrs teasingly 
“I’d love to,” she pulls her arms free from him to wrap them around him and scratch into his back, noticing there were scars present there as well. She surveyed them quickly and decided that her mission was to add some more. She digs her sharp nails into his skin. 
The sensations build up inside them both. He fucks her hard as her eyes roll back into her head. Each thrust felt like it was digging inside, her sweet spot a punching bag for his cock. Once she opens them again, she is met with his face, oh so close and covered in sweat, his red hair sticking to his forehead. A close-lipped smile with closed eyes adorned his face as he was concentrating on doing a good job.
A good job at what exactly? Well, despite Alastor’s initial seeking her out for his own benefit, he’d developed an overwhelming need/desire, to please her. He hadn’t time to think about it, but he supposed he had a desire to maybe prove that he was worth something? That he could be of use to her in some capacity? She’d rejected his protection, as well as his guidance, so maybe she could keep him around for this?
What? No, that thought was dismissed from his head immediately. 
She pushes his hair back and meets her forehead with his, eyes open, drinking in the sight of her face, twisting and contorting with pleasure at every thrust and slap of her clit. She looks into his eyes, and he looks back into hers, visually devouring each other, each basking in the other’s scent, and lips so close they could almost taste each other. 
She snaked her hands through his hair once more, keeping him from being able to move his head or his eyes from her. His thrusts getting sloppier and less refined, both of their legs twitching, inching closer to their climax, him slightly losing control of himself while drowning in her eyes. 
“Don’t you dare stop,” She commands him, her lips brushing against his, while gripping a fistful of his hair. 
He grunts into her neck “I wasn’t planning to,” 
The sweat on their foreheads mixing, she looks him in his eyes “I need you to cum inside me Alastor.” She speaks with such authority, and unaware of why, he felt as though she was in charge. He, the great and feared Overlord, the Radio Demon, felt submissive to this doe that partially came out of nowhere, this common demon, this brat. He couldn’t help but follow the sound of her voice, and watch every movement of her face. The whines, the moans, the movement of her lips, the way her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. Normally he was full of retorts, but now he had nothing to say. The feeling of the warm wetness inside her had stolen his words. 
“Alastor,” she whispered his name, snapping him back into focus “Cum inside me okay? Can you do that for me?” She spoke as though she was teaching him something and was making sure he was capable
“We can do that right?” She nods and he nods along with her “Yeah? Yeah, we can do that, right? Mhmm?” She bites her lip as her words turn into moans, and she throws back her head, exposing her neck. He takes the opportunity to drag his thick tongue across it, tasting her skin and the saltiness of her sweat. Her core twitches in response. She wraps her legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper, as they both feel their climax edging closer and closer. She lifts her head back up and pulls the buck closer to her body. “I am so fucking close right now.” 
Alastor starts instinctively turning his head to hide the red on his cheeks but she’s having none of that. She grabs his chin and turns it back to face her. “No, you wanted to see my face right? Now look at my face. You think I’m so pretty right? I’m so pretty? Look at my pretty face while you fill me up with your seed. Look at me while you fill me with your cum. Fuck!” She lets out a low hungry groan “Fuck! I need it! Please…please…please cum in me Alastor, please” she begs him softly, her eyes bright and wide. The cognitive dissonance between her innocent appearance and the filth coming out of her mouth was at this point too much for him to handle. 
“My doe,” she looks at him “Guess who’s coming for you,” she raises a brow in confusion, as he grins. With one last thrust, he emptied inside her and her core clenched around him, twitching and holding him hostage, just in case he even thought about removing himself. All this while Voe stared directly into his crimson eyes, their foreheads connected. She then shuts her eyes, letting out a powerful satisfied scream, and grabs his lower lip with her teeth. 
He could feel their combined fluids leaking out into the towel she had placed down and they stayed there in that position staring at each other until the dripping stopped. Alastor was stunned, he had no idea what to do next, this was new territory, him feeling this way. Voe could see it too. She grins wildly at him and rubs her nose against his, which he reflexively reciprocates, his tail gently swishing back and forth. 
“You’re hot when you’re quiet. But you can get off me now.“ though her words were slightly aggressive, her tone was sickly sweet “Unless you wanna keep going, but you look like you’re tuckered out Bambi.” She spoke the last word with a teasing tone, snapping him back to his senses, seeing reality now. He removes himself from her, the air feeling cool compared to her warm insides. 
Alastor turns his head toward her “I assume based on your reactions that my performance was satisfactory, yes?”
Voe breathes heavily “What?”
“Was my performance satisfactory?”
“You want to know if you did a good job?”
“Yes,”
Voe starts giggling as she turns onto her stomach, putting her face into her pillow
Alastor seems slightly offended “I don’t exactly see what’s funny,”
“No one’s ever asked me to rate them before,”
“Just…give me a number off the top of your head,”
“Uh, I guess 7/10?”
“7??”
“A high 7! Almost 8!” She giggles
“Well that’s just unacceptable,” he rolls onto his back “I need a 10/10,” he smirks looking at the ceiling 
“You can try,” she draws circles in the bed with her nail
“I intend to,”
They lay in silence for a few beats, until Voe breaks it.
“Why don’t you sleep? Actually, never mind, you don’t need to answer that. I already know.”
“Oh please, you know nothing.”
“Yeah? You don’t sleep because it’s a vulnerable state to be in and you hate to appear vulnerable. You can’t stand the idea that somebody, anybody might take advantage of your vulnerable position and be able to…I don’t know, defeat you? Sound about right?” She asks turning to lie on her stomach
Alastor’s eyes remain wide open, as he he finally made speechless. The two stare at each other until Alastor says “I will confirm nothing, but if that were correct, I’d wonder how you managed to come to that conclusion.”
Voe snorts “I told you, my dad is a psychiatrist. It’s a skill. I was taught by an expert. So while you can read others, at least those easy to read, I can read you.” She rests her head on her hand
“Tell me something Vera,” he turns to her. She raises her brows in acknowledgment “Why do you not like to eat in front of others?”
She blushes, her eyes looking away “Um.. well I-“ she looks up at Alastor, who gives her his full attention “Sometimes I feel fat,” she mumbles 
“What’s that?”
“You know how I’m like, bigger in terms of my body? Well, sometimes I feel fat and disgusting. Like when I eat in front of people,”
“Are you joking?” He deadpans 
Her eyes dart around “No I’m not joking. Not that being fat is bad for anyone else, I just think it’s bad for me, if that makes any sense.”
“I suppose I understand,” he thought of himself, not in regards to weight, of course, he was quite slender. No, in regards to his ethnicity. He never desired to disrespect his wonderful mother, but throughout his life and even his death, he found it hard to admit to his Blackness. That somehow, made him less than others. But similar to Voe’s ideals, the Blackness in others- case in point, her- was not only acceptable but beautiful. 
She reaches out to touch his body, tracing scars on his chest, when she gets to the big one, he flinches in pain and she says
“That scar,” she points to his chest “You got that from Adam?” It’s a question, but the tone implies that it’s a statement
Alastor doesn’t respond, only staring at her with shame in his eyes, while his smile remained
“I know I wasn’t there when that happened, but I don’t think you’re any less strong,”
“I would like to stop talking about this,”
She stares at him “Okay,”
There is no sound in the room for a few moments. Voe just stares at Alastor as he examines his own chest and the scar on it. He pulls the cover over himself after a few minutes of looking at it. He blinks before saying “I do want to apologize for my…joke earlier. It was very tactless of me.”
“Yes, it was.”
Alastor clears his throat “I’d like to make something clear,” Voe turns to look at him, leaning on her arm “This will be happening again,” he says staring up, lying on his back
Voe turns his face to her “Rude, this is an intimate activity. If you want it again, you need to ask, and you can at least look at me.”
He sits up, clearing his throat again “May I have your company once more?”
She sits up as well “Once?” she smirks
He looks away sheepishly “Many more times,”
She turns his face again, making sure they are making eye contact, at least for a moment “Yes, you may.”
A/N: Ahhh!!! Thank you guys for coming this far with me into my fanfic! This chapter is really special to me because the last giant chunk is one of the first things that I wrote for this story and I am so excited that you all finally get to read it. Let me know what you guys think in the comments down below ⬇️
THANK YOU!!!!!
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Chapter 15>
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beom1e · 1 year
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tomorrow x together as rare tropes !!
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pairing ot5 x gn! reader. genre mostly angst, some fluff. warning toxic relationships. author’s note this is not a reflection of the real txt. it’s purely fiction, i just liked the idea.
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yeonjun, the hardest breakup ★
true love, or at least that’s what you called it. he wasn’t your first love, nor was he your most recent, but he was always in the corner of your mind. you always stayed in touch, the friendship you promised each other occasionally went stale whenever either of you fell in love with somebody else, but he was always there. on every social media, in your contacts, and your camera roll, and sometimes on the other half of the bed. a part of you would always love yeonjun, maybe because he was your soulmate or maybe because nobody else could ever offer you what he was able to. the breakup had sent you spiralling at the time. you were a mess of trying to find a version of yourself that was satisfactory enough to fill the void left behind. it angered you that it couldn’t work, you really wished it could. and as much as you wished you could just take him back, you knew it would hurt more than to move on.
he told you he loved you more than anyone else in his life. you both worked harder than ever to spend time together, to make agreed decisions, to balance life with each other. in the end, it became exhausting. relationships need more than love to work, like a car needs fuel but it won’t just drive smoothly if nobody is steering it. he loved you hard, but he couldn’t communicate that love in the way you needed. it was hard to talk things out with him, everything turned into a fight because it was all emotion and no rationale. if only the fuel was enough to allow the car to navigate steep roads and sharp turns, maybe it wouldn’t be this way. maybe you wouldn’t drop new partners after a few months because they just didn’t love you as hard as yeonjun had. maybe you wouldn’t spend every waking second talking to him, making plans with him, inviting him over and doing every other thing that points to a relationship without ever putting a label on it. maybe, or maybe you were just too afraid to let go.
soobin, simply passing through ★
you’d heard a lot about the second-love phenomenon, but you stopped believing it after you fell for someone who ruined your perception of love. and then you met soobin, and you had so much love for him. but deep down, you knew he wasn’t going to be the one. you weren’t going to get married, he wouldn’t be invited to family vacations or featured on your yearly christmas cards. he was your love of the ‘now’, back then. he made you happy and safe, you knew that you’d cherish him and your relationship for the rest of your life. it would hurt, losing him, but not too much. you’d cry, do something mildly impulsive like buying something you definitely didn’t need, and then you’d move on. and that’s exactly what happened.
it was pure bliss. an instant connection, and you both fell quite quickly. he held your hand and took you on the best kind of dates, you spent hours of the morning just cuddling and chatting between kisses. there was a peacefulness about your relationship, the comfort of walking around barefoot to find each other in the small space of your apartment. he knew your order for every fast-food place, he could read you like a book even if you tried hard to hide the feeling you were experiencing. he never had a problem with you crying on his shoulder, he’d simply hold you tight and help you heal. he fixed your view on love, and you thanked him for that. but one day, you woke up feeling stuck. it was repetitive, and you were bored of living the same day over and over knowing he’s not the one you saw in your future. and he felt the same way, he didn’t see himself ring shopping and not once did he ever mention starting a family with you. so when you drifted apart and slowly fell out of love, neither of you were too upset. there were some tears shed, you messily wiping them away with your sleeves as soobin taped up a box and tried not to wrap you up in his arms. you were forever thankful for the experience, but you weren’t going to wait around mourning a relationship destined to end. so you looked back with a smile on your face, all while searching for the one stood beside you in that christmas card photo.
beomgyu, love bomber ★
the first time you met beomgyu, he was introduced to you as ‘mr. first love’ and the ‘epitome of sweet, true, puppy love’. so you played the game, tried to be as sweet and as innocent as the love everybody had promised you — the love beomgyu had promised you. at first, it was sweet and true and you certainly felt that puppy love in the air. however, it was just the steady chain lift of a rollercoaster before the main event — the steep drop, followed by twists and turns and a couple of those loop-the-loops. he took you on sweet dates, walked you home and kissed you goodnight, spent his spending money on small gifts for you, gave you t-shirts to wear around his apartment, breakfast in bed, loving affirmations, cuddles through the night, coffee on your lunch breaks, walks in the park, kisses you would never forget. and then, you said yes to a relationship with him. and you quickly noticed the lack of him in your day-to-day life after that. he would rarely text you back, claimed he didn’t have time for you, brushed off your worries, told you he was too tired for you to stay the night, forgot about every milestone.
he wasn’t hurt or surprised when you broke it off. in fact, he was just waiting for you to break up with him first. you felt like a fool, having held tightly onto somebody who was constantly loosening their grip. you’d never made it onto his social media accounts, it was like you hadn’t even existed. in your case, you had countless photos in your snapchat memories, a number of posts and even an instagram highlight, all that you struggled to erase for weeks following the breakup. for you, it was messy and painful and you knew it would impact every future relationship. for beomgyu, you were just a pastime. there was nothing of his for you to return to him, no way for you to contact him. it had been so perfect and beautiful, and then suddenly it was nothing and only one broken heart. because beomgyu didn’t know how to love, and he refused to let anyone teach him. he’d gave up when it got hard, and he never wanted to experience that difficulty again.
taehyun, too hard to love ★
heartbreaks are no joke. at first you didn’t understand, having never fallen in love. every relationship was short-lived, and there was always something missing. the something always seemed to be love, because you were never dating the right people. you didn’t even cry after the break-ups, you just got back up and went out searching for the next one. as awful as it seemed, that was the way you thought it had to be. when it came to taehyun, though, he wasn’t going to be just another one of your exes. you were sure of it at the time, that he’d be the one that stuck. but of course, life was never that fair.
taehyun’s heart had been shattered. not just broken, shattered into a million different pieces that he didn’t know how to stick back together. he was always hesitant with you, he didn’t like too much affection and always wanted space. even as the relationship matured, he was always so cold. but you were blinded by the love you had for him and his smile, that sometimes he could be sweet and that was enough. it never really was enough, because you were suffering from a heartbreak you’d never experienced. it wasn’t your fault that his trust was broken, yet you were the one being punished for it. every attempt you made to try and piece back together his heart, he would tell you he was sure he’d lost a few pieces and he wasn’t sure you’d ever be able to fix it. and it hurt too much to keep working on that puzzle, your fingers started to hurt from rubbing against the harsh cardboard. so you gave up, picked up the table with the puzzle on it and tipped it onto the floor. and just like taehyun had predicted, you went and broke his heart. even worse than the first time, because you wanted to be important to him. if he couldn’t love you enough, then you were sure to make him hate you enough. you wanted to break his heart in the way that he had broken yours.
huening kai, the one ★
you were a late bloomer when it came to relationships. you’d dated a few times, experienced some of the simpler firsts with people who were just wasting your time. you longed to experience love, but it never seemed to be coming around. when you tried, it always failed. and when you didn’t try, you weren’t even giving yourself a chance. so as you grew into a young adult, you began a social life that was friendship-motivated. you treated your friends like lovers, because that kind of love was as close as you were going to get. every birthday was a huge celebration, you spent many weekends drinking and clubbing with your closest friends, you even went all-out on christmas gifts. and when you met kai, it was completely by accident. you weren’t trying to meet him, the idea of relationships had been completely scratched out of your to-do list.
it was scary at first. neither of you knew what to do, just that you had love for each other. there wasn’t a single worry in the world. no competition, no chance for cheating, and definitely no break-up in sight. you didn’t even long to go out and earn more experience, you were as happy as you were going to get. nobody would ever love you like kai, and you weren’t going to give up your home for a hotel. the first love discourse sometimes worried you, but just seeing the way he excitedly ran towards you after some time apart put all those worries away. you had all of your biggest firsts with him, ranging from the first experience of love to the first time living with a romantic partner. first trip away together, first promise rings, first valentine, first romantic winter, first matching couple costumes, even all of the embarrassing firsts. but the most important part of it all, that he was going to be your first and last of everything.
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babylovepresley · 2 years
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the face i once held
TW: references to elvis’ death, ANGST, SKIP TO 1:31 FOR THE FULL EFFECT, christmas sadness
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when i close my eyes, i can still feel him. he exists in me, he is my unshakeable force. it’s my first christmas without him, and now what? i stand alone at the gates, like i had never known him at all. like i had never taken him into my arms and wept and waited for a soft exhale from his nose to let me know he was here, and he still loved me.
i watch as graceland springs to life; unable to look away from the life i had once lived. a part of me wants to peer through the window and see elvis’ smiling face, wearing a velvet santa cap proudly. i stare ahead of me, and i know he isn’t coming. i can’t move, i can barely breathe without him here. it feels wrong to smile and be holly and jolly or whatever i’m supposed to be without him.
the snow pounds down outside, and i imagine what it would be like to hold him now. a chill runs up my spine as the cold winter wind picks up; without him i doubt i’ll ever be warm again. just to feel him, to be held by him one more time… to rest my chin on his head and coax him to sleep like a child on christmas eve would be the greatest gift of all.
“alright y’all… lights up in 3!” the groundskeeper yells, and the women surrounding me at the gate yell in excitement as we stare.
i’m reminded of our first christmas together, nearly 6 years ago. he was so happy, i used to joke he shouldn’t be decorating the tree, but rather on top of it for all the world to see. he’d giggle and scrunch his nose, and if i try hard enough i can feel the wrinkles under my fingertips; though they’re numb now. he was always so excited to decorate, my sweet boy. i wonder if he’d like the decorations this year, i wish i could ask him.
“elvis?”
“yes babydoll?”
“do we really need six different types of garland?” i’d joke, knowing how tedious he got about decorating perfectly
stepping down from the stool beside the large christmas tree (that he cut himself, but was definitely too big for graceland) he sighed “WHA— baby, of course we do. how else is sandy clause gonna find us?”
“ i don’t know baby, maybe the giant reindeer on the lawn might help!” i joke
“hmmmmm” his eyebrows raise with the smirk i love so well, “sounds like somebody don’t want an early christmas gift…”
at that i turned my head. i hated when he spent money on me. to me, i got the greatest joy from just being with him; just speaking and hearing him speak.
“baby, i thought we weren’t gonna do gifts this year?”
“awh i know we said we weren’t but i was not about to let my best girl wake up on christmas mornin’ without sparklin’… c’mere baby ‘n close your pretty lil eyes”
quietly i walk towards him and close my eyes as he grips the sides of my arms. a beat of silence passes when i feel an aggressive “mwah!” on my lips, and something placed around my neck.
a gorgeous gold locket sits on my neck, dancing in the light of the tree that elvis put way too much ornaments on… but i’d never tell him that.
“oh elvis! it’s gorgeous…”
“ya like it baby?”
“i-i love it.. thank you so much” i tear up and move to open the locket,
“no no no baby! thas for when i go away, whenever ya miss me too much on the road yanno?”
for him, anything. so i ended my curious movement, and smiled in thanks, gripping his hands to my heart.
“thank you baby, but i didn’t get you anything…”
“well thas’ alright puppy i think i know a way you can make it up to me” he jokes, always with that suggestive glint in his eyes.
he pulls me to his chest, flopping backwards onto the couch and kissing me. the wind whistled through the window as he kissed me, holding me flush to him; afraid to let go. the lights of the christmas tree reflect on his face, and i swore i’d never forget how beautiful he looked.
i stare at that same window, half expecting to close my eyes and be back on that couch with him. when everything was good, and he was still mine. and he was still here.
the lights come up and cheers surround me, but i am lonelier than ever before. silently, i look to the sky… i look for him. i’ll always look for him, i think. for the rest of my life i will.
i cup the locket in my hands. it has faded and rusted with time, much like i have. my fingers trace over the inscription of the heart, and i pluck at the latch to open it.
my favorite photo of him sends the tears rolling down my frozen, wind whipped cheeks. he smiles so proudly as he holds the axe that cut down our first tree. the jacket he wears was too big for him, and i laugh slightly, bringing the picture to my frozen lips in a kiss. it’ll never be him, but i kiss it nonetheless, hoping i can feel his kind lips against mine again.
on the other side of the locket, my eyes bore into a little note written in his own messy handwriting.
merry christmas baby, i’m thinking of you always.
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vrisrezis · 1 year
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Part 2 to the uhm . Reader leaving and rocket trying to get them not to leave fic LOL
You hold rockets hand, giving him a sad smile. “I promise, I’ll be back. I won’t be gone for long.” you say, looking into his eyes. He had taken the whole, you leaving the guardians thing pretty hard. “I just need some time. To think. To reflect.” he understands. Of course he does. He knows what it feels like to not belong, and he never wants the person he loves to feel that way. At first, he was angry with you but now has come to an understanding. He’d do the same if he had those feelings towards the guardians.
“Come back soon, okay?” he says, and you kiss him on the cheek with a smile. “I will.”
There had been some sort of distress signal, from xandar. Typically rocket hated this place, but this concerned him now given the fact you’ve been staying there for about a couple months now. You two have been sorta in contact, for the most part you have tried to talk once a week. However as of late you haven’t been doing that, which concerned him. Of course, he was worried if you found somebody else, new people to belong to, instead of the guardians, instead of him. While you had told him many times to stop being so negative all the damn time, towards others and to himself, he couldn’t help the way his brain operates. As soon as the guardians arrived, it was pure chaos. Although rocket knew as a guardian of the galaxy, he should be concerned about the innocent people, his mind went to you. Maybe it was selfish of him but in the moment he didn’t care, quickly running off before quill could even say anything. Quill didn’t even bother, already knowing where rocket was heading and decided that he didn’t care all that much, since he also worried for your safety.
Rocket ran as fast as his feet could take him, eventually his hands as well as he started to run on all fours. There were a lot of explosions, a lot of fire. Rocket had always known you to be strong, but there was no way for you to defend yourself against something like this, not without a ship, without people to back you up.
And there he found you, on the floor, struggling to get up. He thanked his lucky stars that nobody was attacking you in the state you were currently in, as he looked before him he saw many soldiers taken down. He was far too focused on you to even see who they were. The closer he ran the more serious your injuries appeared to be. You were clutching your side, and he could see blood seeping out through your hands.
“Rocket?” you ask, surprised to see him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be… uhm…” you lose your train of thought, if the fact you of all people, cursed at him wasnt enough evidence to him that you weren’t in the right state of mind. “Yeah yeah, there was a distress signal so we kinda had to come here.” he explains, holding onto your cheek and tilting your head to check on your head injury a bit better. He sees that your head is bleeding because of some huge cuts, but other than that your heads okay. It’s your side he’s concerned about, so he grabs your hand. You refuse to let go, and he assumes it’s because you’re in pain. “Listen, I know it hurts but I need to look at it, bare with me okay?” he asks, and it’s the nicest you’ve ever heard him be towards you, so you hesitantly let go of the wound. He examines it, and nods. “Okay, hold onto the wound, I need to take you to the milano so I can patch you up. You’ll be fine, but I need to make sure you don’t lose a shit ton of blood.” he carefully explains, slowly helping you up. You gain the gist of what he’s saying, but he can tell you’re only half listening. “Shit.” he mumbles, as you start to lose consciousness.
Eventually you wake up, you slowly open your eyes and notice you’re in some sort of… hospital bed? You slowly sit up but feel a sharp pain at your side and hiss. It’s only then do you notice rocket sitting in a chair next to you. He pushes you down onto your back. “Rest.” he says, rather curt with you. “You need it.” he says, then going silent. Usually rocket is never this short with you unless he’s mad at you. You try some small talk, knowing how much he hates that. That’ll surely get him talking again, you know it. “How are you?” “Tch. I should be asking you that.” he says, finally looking back at you. “Yknow I’m mad at you, right?” Rocket says, being rather blunt. You sigh, giving him a tired smile. “Yeah, I know. Cant it wait? I’m kinda tired as shit right now.” “You wouldn’t be if you would just talk to me. You haven’t spoken to me in week y/n. Weeks. What the hell has been going on with you? First you leave me out of the fuckin blue and you lose contact with me and now I find you almost dead. I mean seriously, how do you expect me not to be angry with you?” Rocket says, pretty much lecturing you. It’s not what you wanted to hear from him, especially today. You scratch the back of your head, “I was scared shitless, okay?” Rocket continues, “I mean I thought I wasn’t gonna be able to save you just now. The least you can do is tell me what’s going on.”
You don’t bother trying to fight him on it, knowing that he’s right. You look away, “as I’ve said, I left because I don’t … belong with you guys. But as I’ve learned, I don’t belong here either. I learnt that the hard way, I guess.” you say, albeit rather cryptic. “The hell does that mean?” Rocket questions, already losing his patience with you. “The people of xandar do not like me apparently, somebody sent a bunch of people to kill me.” you shrug, before explaining a bit more, not waiting for Rocket to say something “I got into a fight with somebody at a bar, and I guess the guy was crazy enough to hire a hitman. The hitman in question also being crazy enough to burn down a whole town and said hitman had a bunch of … soldiers … I guess?” you once again shrug at the absurdity of it all.
“So let me get this straight. The time you’ve been in xandar you’ve been… what? Fighting some guys at bars for no reason? Getting yourself involved in things you shouldn’t?” you almost audibly sigh as you feel yourself get lectured by Rocket of all people. This just isn’t like him. “Without me?” there it is. “I can’t believe you y/n! Why are you being so distant from me!” you close your eyes, “because I needed time to deflect, think about my life, decide where it is I belong.” you state, and Rocket is left wondering, “where have you decided you belong?” aloud.
“I’m not exactly sure.” You admit, but continue. “I don’t always feel I belong with the guardians, but I do feel I belong with you. I’m not gonna leave you again, I think I’ve decided that I belong here, with you. Saving the galaxy is what I’m meant to do.”
And to hear those words, rocket smiles.
“Don’t think I’m gonna just forget you nearly died on me, seriously. You’re gonna have to work real hard to make it up to me.” Rocket says, and you sigh with a happy smile. “Yeah yeah, does a kiss work?” “Tch. I’m not so easily bribed.” he says, trailing off. “But…” he lifts a finger up, “it is a start.”
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tom-whore-dleston · 1 year
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What I've Been Looking For
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Pairing ▹ Joaquin Torres x gn. reader
This fic contains ▹ fluff, birthdays, soulmates AU, Joaquin and reader are 24 years old, alcohol consumption, sibling banter, lightly beta'ed writing
Word Count ▹ 1.2k
Summary ▹ Every year, you wish to meet your soulmate but are becoming less hopeful of it coming true.
Notes ▹ It's my birthday!!! You all voted for a birthday fic and I delivered 😜 I would like to count this fic towards my submission for @late-to-the-party-81's Challenge Yourself challenge since this is my first time writing a Soulmates AU. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊
Prompt ▹ Sharing birthdays: soulmates are born on the same day, share the first breath with each other by @creativepromptsforwriting/@creativepromptfills Dividers ▹ @firefly-graphics
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Birthdays were a sacred celebration. You lived in a world where your soulmate was born on the same day as you, sharing your first breath together. Every year, you wished for the same thing before blowing the candles of your cake out. You wished to meet your soulmate. The soulmate that came into this world the very exact moment that you did. As the years went by, you became more discouraged from meeting that person you were meant to live the rest of your life with. Nevertheless, you continued to wish to meet that special somebody.
Upon waking up to the sun shining down on your face, you sighed, throwing the bed cover off your body.
Another birthday. Another wish to waste on someone that may as well be a myth.
As you walked into the kitchen, you heard a cheerful shout from your sister.
“Happy birthday!”
“Oh, it’s that day again, huh?” You joked before giving her a hug.
“Of course it is!” She started to run to the fridge, pulling out a small cake and plopping a candle on top. You couldn’t help but laugh at the lengths your sister went to make your birthday special, even if she knew that it wasn’t your favorite day of the year.
“I really appreciate the gesture, but I am not eating cake at 8 in the morning.”
“Oh, c’mon! It’s guava flavored. Your favorite!” For a slight second, you were tempted to give in and eat a slice. You couldn’t resist anything guava flavored.
“Alright, fine. But I am not blowing candles or making wishes.”
“What?” Your sister looked like she was about to cry. Was it her birthday or something? “You will have bad luck if you don’t make a wish.”
“Eh, who cares? I haven’t had any luck with a soulmate so what else do I have to lose?” You walked past her to brew a cup of coffee and she followed you like a newborn duckling.
“I care! I know you feel defeated about not finding your soulmate but I know they are out there. I love you so I want you to be happy. And that starts with enjoying this cake with me. With the candles and singing and wishes!” You admired your sister’s persistence. She may have been younger than you but she fought like hell for you. Maybe you could do without a soulmate, as long as your sister continued to stick around and tolerate your pessimism.
“I love you too, little sis. Thank you for the cake. For everything, actually.” You pressed your forehead against hers. “Now light this bitch up, and try to sing on key.”
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The end of your birthday was approaching and so far, it wasn’t too bad. You, your sister, and a couple of your friends went out for dinner and drinks with a balcony view of the sun setting over the beach. The alcohol in your system caused you to fully relax as your gaze followed the orange orb descend in the purplish yellow sky. You had just gulped the last day of your champagne as a crowd of employees marched towards your table with not one, but two chocolate cakes littered with sprinkles.
You glanced over at your party, confused upon seeing the second plate of dessert. They all shrugged before pulling out their phones to record you. One server finally placed a slice of cake in front of you, and you flashed them a thankful smile. Then, you followed the other piece of cake to the next table. The same server set down the plate in front of a man so ethereal, you could have mistaken him for Prince Charming.
That man glanced at you, catching your gaze as the candles on your cakes flickered under your smiles toward each other. Time stopped and the rest of the world ceased to exist as everyone around the two of you sang “Happy Birthday.” You couldn’t tell if it was his enchanting stare or the fizzling drink you downed, but your cheeks warmed up and butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. Everything about this man was mesmerizing, from his sculpted bone structure in his face to his fluffy dark curls, and then the radiant energy that he exerted as the gentlemen across from him sang drunkenly. You wanted to know his name, his story, and his hopes and dreams.
Amongst your trance with him, you discovered his name was Joaquin since his buddies shouted it louder than your equally drunk friends and sister did with your own name. Joaquin wasn’t a common name, but that was what drew you even more to him. Joaquin was full of wonder. You may not have known then and there, but Joaquin was just as enamored and curious about you.
“C’mon, make a wish!” One of your friends yelped behind her phone. Your eyes shut and a hopeful grin spread across your face. For the first time, you had a different wish.
I wish for Joaquin.
Opening your eyes, you blew out the flame and the sounds of cheers and claps filled the atmosphere. Peering back at Joaquin, your eyes met once again, lingering a little longer than before. His teeth glimmered under the last bit of sunlight that peeked from behind the horizon. The sun finally disappeared, but then the moon and stars took their place in illuminating Joaquin’s beauty for you to admire.
“Hey, why don’t you stop gawking over that guy and go say ‘happy birthday’ back.” Your sister laughed. Your lips curled inward as if you had been caught with your hand in a jar of candy. Suddenly, you grew nervous at the thought of approaching him. This man could be the soulmate you have yearned for your whole life. But what if he wasn’t what you expected?
You wouldn’t know unless you tried. And so you did.
The chair shifted under you as you stood up to walk towards Joaquin. Before you knew it, he was doing the same exact thing. Walking toward one another felt like your hearts were being pulled by a string that connected you two. By the time you were only feet from one another, you had wished you had some champagne to chug before leaving your seat. But once you locked eyes with Joaquin, all those years of disappointment and defeat vanished. Hope, love, and happiness began to fill that hole in your heart.
“So…” You began. “It’s your birthday too?”
“Yeah, it’s actually my 24th to be exact,” Joaquin responded, combing his hand through his brown locks.
Your heart skipped a beat. “Same here.”
Joaquin beamed. “I figured. Who would have thought that it would take me 24 years to finally feel truly alive?”
You bit your lip, fighting the urge to tear up. No witty comeback could top his, and deep down, he knew that. It was hard to believe that you had finally found your soulmate. All that was certain of you was that you did not want this moment to end.
“Well, I’m not much of a cake person, but I do like long walks on the beach.” You laughed at his corny comment. “Wanna get out of here in a few?”
You nodded without hesitation. Joaquin took your hand in his, symbolizing the beginning of a beautiful life of many birthdays and growing older with your soulmate.
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quirkless-accident · 2 years
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Hero Too
When Danny woke up, it was to a cold, dark room he's never been in, filled with the sounds of desperate and afraid children around his age or younger than him.
He doesn't remember exactly how he got here. One second he was walking home from school, late again because of his usual bullies, and the next thing he knows he's waking up here with a sharp pain in his neck.
"Where are we?" He asks nobody in particular through the dryness of his throat.
"We-we were kidnapped," the kid next to him answers. Danny can't see much in the dark, but he can hear that the kid has been crying recently. His voice is stopped up in a way only tears and allergies can cause.
"Us? Why?" Danny asks, confused. Nobody outside of his family would ever want him. He's just some quirkless nobody who wants to go to space. He's only ten, but he's known the world is not kind to people like him since he was four.
"I think-I th-think it's to take us somewhere else," the other kid gets out around his stuttering. "I heard one of the guards talking about fighting underground."
"That doesn't make any sense," Danny tells him. He feels the other kid shrug his shoulders before leaning tiredly into Danny's side.
"Unless they mean underground in the same way heroes are underground."
"What do you mean?"
"Some heroes don't like people so they're never on the news," this new kid explains. "They fight in the middle of the night in dark and scary places, and save people that way."
"How come I've never heard of them?" Danny wondered allowed. He's always been obsessed with heroes, Thirteen being his favorite of course. His passion for heroes and saving people almost matched his passion for space. He's just so in awe of somebody having the power to help others. It's something he's always kind of wanted, at least in a physical sense.
"They gotta keep themselves secret," the boy leaning on him explains. "They can't be popular like All Might because then all their secrets won't be secrets anymore, and then they'd have a harder time fighting."
"Huh. That sounds...Kind of nice, actually. Do you wanna be a hero when you grow up?"
"Yeah! Just like All Might!"
"I think I wanna be a hero too, now. But maybe I'll be one of these underground guys."
-------
Shouta Aizawa was straight up not having a great time.
For two weeks now he's been on this case of quirkless kids all over the city being kidnapped, and he and Tsukauchi have really been the only ones working on it. It makes his blood boil, knowing that there are people in this police department so willing to turn a blind eye to innocent children over genetics they can't control.
He's in the middle of talking logistics with Tsukauchi when the doors to the police department are slammed open.
Shouta could recognize the Fentons anywhere. They're well known for their top of the line support gear, but even more wildly popular for their opinions and experiments concerning the supernatural. And because they own that gaudy building with the neon sign that lights up the entire block.
Maddie Fenton makes eye contact with him, and she marches over to him looking like a thunderstorm incarnate. Her teal eyes flash dangerously, and it's not hard to see her rippling muscles under her jumpsuit. Shouta straightens at the sight of her, and even more so at the sight of her husband just a step behind her, huge and lumbering and just as angry, just as worried.
"Are you Eraserhead?" Maddie demands. Shouta nods his head and carefully sets down the papers he's holding before turning fully to face the Fenton parents. There's a small red headed girl who peaks out from behind her father's leg, looking up at him with the same bright eyes as her mother.
"What can I help you with?" he asks them, keeping his voice in his usual careful monotone.
"Our-our son was taken," Maddie says, and her voice cracks as she speaks but she firmly holds his gaze, unphased by her vocal cords betraying her. "And nobody is doing anything about it. I have been screaming myself blue trying to get anybody in this godforsaken place to care. it took me nearly forty minutes to be directed to you. So-please. Just help me find my baby."
Shouta glances back at Tsukauchi, who comes around and stands next to Shouta.
"Ma'am, does your child happen to be quirkless?" The detective asks. At the parent's hesitant nod, Tsukauchi moves back around to the other side of his desk. "Please, tell me everything you know."
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"Izuku," Danny whispers.
"Hm?"
"We should-we should be heroes."
"That would be cool. Maybe we could open up our own agency together. Call it the-the All Might Jr. and Thirteen's Rover Agency."
"No, not like that. Well, maybe. But that's not what I'm talking about. You said earlier only one guard usually shows up to check on us, right?" Izuku nods into his shoulder. "Well, the way I see it, is, there's a bunch of us, and only one of him. It wouldn't be hard to surprise him and take his keys or something. Besides, we're all-we're all quirkless. There's no guarantee that the police will help, or any of the heroes."
"Except All Might. And Thirteen," Izuku replies quietly. "But then what, Danny?" Izuku asks. He lifts his head off Danny's shoulder and turns to face them, though they can really only see the dim outline of each other. "If we get past the guard, what happens after that?"
He's not opposed to the idea, Danny can tell. He's just scared of the unknown, and Danny is too, but he's more afraid of the unknown that comes with being moved away from his family. That certainly outweighs the fear of another guard or two running down the hall.
"I think-we can make a plan. But we'll probably need everyone in here to help."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. So, here's what I was thinking..."
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Daniel "Danny" Fenton was kidnapped two days ago on his way home from school during one of the busiest times of the day, which meant that it was probably done at the mouth of an alley way, and that they had means of a quick escape.
There are only a handful of alleys like that in the area Danny was taken, and Shouta gets lucky on the third.
There's a latch under the huge dumpster that he manages to crawl under and through. it's locked, but it's also older and rusted, and it doesn't take much effort to break. So with the help of his lithe frame, he squeezes through and drops down into the sewer.
It's an area he recognizes from one of his first missions on his own. He knows there's a door to his left that leads to a whole underground network where a dog fighting ring took place, and when that was taken down, an illegal quirk fighting ring.
It makes him sick to his stomach thinking that might happen to all of the quirkless kids that were kidnapped.
He quickly updates Tsukauchi, and without waiting for backup, he goes in.
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Danny makes sure he's the first one the guard sees when he opens the door. The light is blinding and makes his eyes sting, but he holds his ground.
"Who are you?" He asks. The guard looks down at him, unimpressed.
"Eat," he says, before throwing a Tupperware container of some unknown food down at Danny's feet. The lid pops off and some of the contents scatter.
"I asked you a question," Danny says, crossing his arms and popping his hip out in the same way Jazz does when she demands an answer.
"Listen," the guard says, taking a couple steps inside. He absolutely towers over Danny's small frame. "I don't have time for useless runts like you. So you're going to eat," he growls, pointing at the food on the floor, "or you're going to starve. I don't particularly care which one happens."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"That's it, you little-"
Before he can finish his sentence, he quickly grabs his crotch in pain, and drops to his knees. Danny and the other kids waste no time in taking him down to the floor, biting and punching and kicking until the man is nothing but a groaning mess.
"That was a good kick," he tells Izuku, who had snuck up behind the man while Danny was talking to him.
"Let's grab his keys and see if we can find the way out," Izuku says.
Out in the bright hallway, it's easy to see how many of them there are now. It's not just a cacophony of cries coming from some faceless source. There are a dozen of them, all dirty and a little scuffed up. But now that they're all out of that room, despair is turning into hope.
"I woke up when they brought me here," one kid says. "I think I sort of remember the way."
"Come on, then," Izuku says encouragingly. The kid nods, and joins them at the front of the group.
"Let's get out of here."
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Shouta has taken down his fair share of underground groups. Drug dealers, fighting rings, illegal support equipment manufacturing, you name it, he's taken care of it.
But this has to be the oddest fucking thing he's seen out of all of them.
He's taken down a handful of guards here and there before they can alert the others to his presence, but to find a single guard or two already knocked out and beaten to hell is a new one. And he knows for a fact he's the only hero on the scene at the moment.
He quickly shakes off the surprise though and heads further into the hallway. He follows the trail of unconscious bodies.
But then, when he quietly rounds a corner, he's immediately met with twelve small, pissed off children.
There is fire in their eyes and anger fueling every motion their body does. It's why the little dark haired one lunges at him without looking, almost taking him by surprise. He tries to ram his head into Shouta's crotch, and he can't help but realize that's probably how all of those other guys went down. Shouta steps back and grabs the kid by the shoulders, holding him at arm's length as he gets down on all of their levels. He's never seen such angry blue eyes before.
"Hey, hey, it's alright," he tells him, voice as gentle and soothing as he can make it. The kid, however does not look convinced. "I'm a hero. My name is Eraserhead."
A little green haired kid perks up from the side. He looks like the most skittish thing to walk the planet but he steps up and speaks up anyway. "Eraserhead? Like, the underground hero?"
"Not very many people have heard of me," Shouta tells him, genuinely impressed.
"Where's your card?" the boy his grasp asks.
"It's in my pocket. I can show it to you, if you want. But you have to promise not to try and hit me again. Deal?"
"And if you're lying?"
"Then you can hit me all you want. I promise."
"Fine."
Shouta releases the boy and slowly reaches into his belt and pulls out his wallet, and then his hero license. He hands it over to the dark haired boy, who glances at it before handing it to the green haired one. He hands it back with a nod, and a relieved smile, and the dark haired one relaxes immediately.
"What are your names?" Shouta asks them before tucking his license away again.
"I'm Danny, and that's Izuku," Danny says. The other children give their names, too, but it's obvious it's these two who are have been leading the charge.
"It's nice to meet you. Now, follow me. The way I came in through it this way."
He takes hold of Izuku and Danny's hands, and with them going, all of them follow. They thankfully don't run into any more trouble on the way out. It looks like the operation hadn't quite started yet, and it was just in its beginning phases.
The entire way there, the boys talk about the hero agency they're going to open up when they become pros, occasionally asking Shouta for his input since he himself is one. It's would have been almost fun if it weren't for the circumstances.
"I understand All Might Jr," Shouta tells them when they're near the exit. "But why Rover for you?"
"Because those are the machines they send to space, and I'm gonna be an astronaut one day!" Danny says excitedly. "I'm gonna play with aliens and help Thirteen beat up bad guys!"
"Well, I know for a fact Thirteen would appreciate your help, Rover."
Danny's eyes absolutely sparkle at being called his potential hero name, so he concedes and calls Izuku by All Might Jr. The sparkly eyes he gets in return make it worth it.
Eventually they exit, going back in the way Shouta came, though the dumpster has thankfully been moved. The police and paramedics are there, taking the kids from Shouta as he helps them all out.
He speaks with the boys and their parents as they exchange contact information so Izuku and Danny can hang out once everything has calmed down.
And when they're done, he puts a hand on each of their shoulders.
"I'll see you when you get to U.A. okay?"
He's expecting an earsplitting scream of excitement to burst his eardrums.
Instead, he's nearly strangled by how hard they hug him. He hides his smile in his scarf as he hugs them back, ruffles their hair, and waves goodbye before going back to Tsukauchi.
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Five years later, on the first day of the new semester. Izuku Midoriya broke his finger with his outrageously powerful quirk, and Danny Fenton can fly and shoot lasers out of his hands.
They remember him. It's obvious by the look in their eyes that they remember him, so it's no surprise when he gets a knock on his office door after school has ended.
"Rover, All Might Jr," he greets dryly.
"Eraserhead," Danny greets, and although he's nervous, he grins at Shouta all the same. "We, uh..." Izuku steps forward, placing a hand on Danny's shoulder.
"We have some explaining to do."
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GOD OKAY. I swear i'm gonna log off and go do my stupid little yoga for my stupid little health but i am. thinking about WLB and Nureyev say the wedding was difficult for him too and i just.
hi for the love of god HELLO?? did he spend like the same fifteen years himself dreaming of the same kind of moment? that it wouldn't be too late that he could make it happen that he could overcome the tragedy and have a second chance at that life? when did he have to give up? did he spend the first like three to five years thinking he could pull it off, and then time just keeps ticking on and he realizes that he's spent years becoming someone else and his love is still like. twenty. maybe half his problem with the aging stuff is that every time he looks in the mirror means acknowledging getting farther and farther away and Slip would never get a chance to catch up? and then he's in his thirties, and whatever notions of romantic fidelity he might have been clinging to have long since had to fall by the wayside but he's not about to give up on giving Slip his life back, to give him some kind of life back. so that's it. 'there's nothing and no one who can shake me now'
and then BOOM. cue detective in a window. and now he's playing the wedding music for his crime moms. and he's happy for them! truly! but he's watching them get the culmination of their reunion and their growth and making the promise of a life together in the wake of that fifteen year tragedy and it means also having to face some things that maybe in theory he's considered but are now right there in his tangible reality. and maybe finally reconciling himself to the dream he'll never have and the life that. maybe? maybe he could?
i am also thinking about how. he can't save slip but he DID save juno. like nobody would have found him in the desert if buddy and jet hadn't been looking for him. and juno couldn't save sonny or take down captain hijikata but he DID help rita. bc it's about doing what you can. and thinking you've failed in a big way bc you can't see all the other places where what you did mattered to somebody.
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queenburd · 11 months
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so in the hypothetical fic concept,,,, ok actually have a. small handful of questions maybe. (........alsoalso this is. always true but just gonna reiterate Preemptively,,,, "don't know" is alwaysalways a fair answer. this is more of a. blatantly fishing by tossing prompt-adjacent-things in your general direction sort of thing haha)
- is the amount of time the narrator has experienced getting other stanleys out the same amount of time his stanley has experienced in the outside??
- how do they each. react,, upon landing & realizing they've been split up??
- does the narrator ever have a hard time convincing a stanley to get to the escape pod with him??
- since both the narrator And stanley have to be present for it to work,, one can infer if a stanley was too suspicious or elsewise he would be. trapped. until that stanley could be convinced.
- has he ever been discovered by other narrators??
- ........what happens,, to the other narrators when their corresponding stanley is evacuated?? (are they left there indefinitely on their own, does their iteration of the parable simply collapse, a secret third thing,,)
points at you. you get me.
first) yes! it's approximately the same amount of time, though the narrator has no way to measure and doesnt know until, well. he gets out. that it's been that long. he just knows it's been a long time, and it's honestly something that frightens him. he is trying very VERY hard to make peace with the idea he's never going to see Stan again, because.... if they never see each other again, it doesn't have to hurt him if Stan's feelings for him change. If Stan decides he wants to be with somebody else.
(with this said, this fic HAS to take place in the future. I put myself in this hole. The TSPUD only came out last year but Stan's been out for four years and change??? dont. dont look too hard at that. okay? dont look at that. that ones on me.)
second) they uh. they both have some BAD reactions to learning the other is not with them. it might be "harder" on Stan if only because he's been thrust into a new world at the same time, on his own.
Stan starts living a life, afraid that his friend is gone, or maybe out in the world somewhere alone, or dead. he had no idea how to process it because he didnt KNOW what happened. but he just… had to try to move on. live as a person. he didnt have a choice.
for the narrator, he has to try to make sense of why he's in a Parable that... isn't HIS. when he finds the Stanley there that isnt his it hurts like a motherfucker, but he has other issues to deal with (like the fact this one is very clearly a victim of physical abuse) so he boxes that shit up, as he usually does, to focus on the problem at hand.
but after he gets into a system, it's not as easy to distract himself. sometimes he wakes up in the escape pod by himself after just ushering a new Stanley out, and he just stays there for a little bit to have a good cry.
3) ABSOLUTELY HE HAS A HARD TIME WITH SOME STANLEYS. These fuckers are STUBBORN. He's really used to it, and it can be frustrating, but he always manages somehow--mostly, he surprises them all.
even the angrier Stanleys that are less likely to trust him cant help being caught off guard by his concern, and his laughing at their sharp biting wit, or just how open he is with his expressions. that, plus the fact their narrators are still clearly around in opposition, means its not a "trick".
hes still himself, you know? but all that bitchiness and irritability is aimed at these alternate versions of himself instead of Stanley. he is so SICK of his own bullshit. GET OVER YOURSELF, MY GOD, no WONDER he hated my guts. you petulant CHILD.
and yeah that's really weird for the Stanleys. They kind of love it. it's hilarious.
3.5) since it's tangential with the above. yeah. he's had some serious bonding periods with some stanleys. that's why in the end he always manages to convince them. because they have nothing BUT time.
4) probably yes. there have been a few where he was genuinely stealthy enough to not get caught (though those narrators DEFINITELY noticed SOMETHING was awry, they tended to focus on where Stanley was in the Parable over things happening elsewhere in the map) and he always makes an effort in the beginning, mostly to get a feel for the situation. he's done this enough times to have an idea of where to start. BUT, he has a temper, and for the narrators that are actively more hostile, he has no qualms about showing his face and, quite frankly, kicking their arses.
because this may not be his SPECIFIC parable, but it's still the Parable, and he's still a Narrator. he can control this rat maze just as well as they can. possibly even better, since he's let Stan roam through every single door and played with every single hall. Hes not afraid of breaking script. most of them dont know how to react to it.
5) he doesn't know what happens to them. he assumes they get left on their own. he doesn't care. as far as he's concerned, they dont deserve to have a protagonist at all, and they can rot by themselves for eternity.
I dont know what happens to them either. Ive thought about it but cant come to any conclusions. though Ive wondered if theres a way for these fellows to find each other. Im sure theyve got a bit of a grudge...
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dnangelic · 7 months
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@espectres asked: wakes up 2 hrs later mEMEME 🕯🕯🕯 // // send me 🕯️ to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.
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' shou-kun ... he's way cooler than me , isn't he ? '
( ... he'd hate to hear you say that , you know . )
' i know , but ... i can't help it . '
how many times had he dreamed of being somebody a little more like that ? eager and fearless but still warm , someone who could do everything just right . daisuke could only ever faintly grasp the idea of the other's charisma , more often than not swept up and carried away by the energetic impulse and vital whimsy of it whenever shou was about : a high-flying kite's string and a whirlwind of laughter . there were times it felt like shou had all the answers ; knew every right path and action to take , or even if the boy didn't , then he was more than ready to decide on his own and to stick by them --- a total contrast to the niwa's own floundering helplessness and perpetual , easily overwhelmed confusion , a sting in his heart and shawl of timid shame left over on his shoulders .
it's not enough for someone to be gentle and kind ; they've also got to be decisive when it matters . daisuke can't remember where he's heard it from , but the phrase immediately comes to mind . the insecurities too , despite how quickly he tries to bury them away with shut eyes and both hands , remain phantasmal and lurking . if i was more like that , would everyone still think i was a loser ... ? he could have finally been the great phantom thief that everyone around him seemed to desire . his mother and grandfather would have been satisfied with their heir , and the chide-and-scoldings over his clumsiness would have surely vanished . his oldest once-crush would have had someone cool and interesting to admire instead of someone plain and average to reject and dump . just maybe even hiwatari-kun would have had a better reason to capture him , and wouldn't be suffering all the time .
if he was just a little bit more like shou , then maybe even dark ---
( oi . quit it . stop right there . who said you were suddenly allowed to start deciding things like that on your own ? )
' --- eh ? '
it doesn't get too far . or rather , it doesn't go any further than that . somewhere he can feel dark's silent irritations and jealous , guarding leer . the prickled and grim bereavement of someone watching another struggle exhaustively at digging a deep , pointless , and useless hole for themselves . ( are you really just going to give up like that ? ) --- even if he can't hear it , he can still feel it . dark's and his own truths . it was enough to have been born and to be here right now --- to change . to be able to do something . to become someone . the sort of person that he wanted to be .
( that's it . one more time , now . start it over from the top , daisuke . )
' i ... shou-kun , i --- i really don't want to lose to him in any way . just thinking about him turning out disappointed in me , i ... i don't want to let him down . whenever shou-kun smiles , i can't help but smile too , and whenever he laughs , my heart starts beating faster . no matter what happens , i want us to be able to keep having fun like that . i want shou-kun to be able to stay like that : happy and free , but strong and considerate , too . he's the sort of person who always has his hand reached out to me . he's always looking over his shoulder , waiting for everyone else to catch up with him and follow . that's why --- i should do my best so that i don't end up left behind . '
i'll meet you at the same place , somewhere in the middle . i won't let go . i'll hold onto your hand while you hold onto mine , and we'll race off together , no matter the destination or distance . ' ... sorry . i've gotta pull it together . ' palms slap against somewhat red-flushed cheeks and he musters up every ounce of his gumption . ' i've still got to work hard to meet everyone's expectations , but i'll do my best --- ! let's do this , dark ! '
( ... eh , you can manage . i'm going back to sleep . )
' wha --- really ?! '
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Help for the Homesick
About six months ago, I moved 500+ miles to a new state. As someone who grew up moving roughly every two years, I never really experienced homesickness for a location before, but the place I lived--a beautiful wild place in the mountains of New York state--was a place I had spent six relatively unbroken years of my life. I left it all--a beautiful home, a good job, wildlife I loved, freedom I reveled in, and beauty I had never known anywhere else--all for a family member who, in the end, never truly cared to begin with, but I digress. That is beside the point.
The point I wish to make now is that homesickness is very real, and it goes beyond being a child and spending a week on grandpa's farm or being sent off to summer camp. I have learned that it hits adults pretty hard too...perhaps harder. There is a lot that I never knew came with the territory of adult homesickness and some of it seems like it really would be the symptoms a child would suffer with. Depression, loss of interest, nightmares, loss of appetite, overwhelming regret, and--the most painful--that suffocating desire to go back in time and change what you did (or didn't do) to lead you to this sorrowful, barren place. Newsflash: crying in the shower is not just for teenage heartbreak or moms with five little ones whose demands seem to never end.
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Of course, life's daily grind demands that you wear your mask (yep, we were wearing those every day even before 2020) and hide your pain, keep your tears to yourself, ignore the anger and perform, perform, perform...even when all you want to do is run to the comfort of your photos from home and steep in the hollow longing that gnaws at the deepest parts of your soul. You're broken, but you circle the "OK" in the middle of the word "broken" and swear that's what you are: okay. Why? Because you don't want people to see your pain. Maybe you don't think anybody will care. Maybe you're surrounded by people who just don't understand.
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Whatever the reason, I'm writing this blog to let you know you're not alone. I was having chronic nightmares--the kind that wake you up in a panic with your blood feeling like ice in your veins. I can probably count on one hand how many restful nights I have slept since I moved. Not many. The nightmares caused me to search Google endlessly for answers and all I got was dream interpretation and not one of them gave consistent information. Then I plugged "symptoms of homesickness" into Google. Top of the list: nightmares. Once I figured that out, I was able to come to terms with what was going on and truly accept that I was (and still am) very homesick. But what do you do after you've identified the monster? How do you fight it even as it eats you alive every day you wake up to find your new reality is not a nightmare you can awaken from?
For me, I had to find myself again...the things I'm passionate about. I let myself be influenced by someone in my family because I was trying to hold on to a closeness I thought we shared. I thought if I changed enough and liked everything they liked, we would always be close. Boy, was I wrong. It didn't do anything to keep us close; all it did was chip away at my own individuality and personal passion. While everything else in this blog post is my own art, here I will share something done by somebody else because the message is pretty intense and supports the point I want to make.
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(Artist: https://www.deviantart.com/tatiilange)
Slowly but surely, I am unfurling myself from that cramped and contorted position I forced myself into and, while there is pain involved, it feels good because I can feel the real me beginning to breathe again. I have embraced the art I've always been passionate about once again. I'm helping others find their way in the same thing and, simultaneously, I am trying new things that I didn't think I could do. I am in the process of constructing a fursuit of my wolf fursona Klavius and seeing all the research and techniques coming together under my hands into a tangible form of this character that has lived and built a story inside my head is amazing and exciting.
I have written all of this in hopes of helping others who might be struggling in similar ways that I have been. Maybe you're not homesick. Maybe there is a different circumstance hurting you inside. My advice to you: find your passion and if you wandered away from it for some reason, grab it and hold it close again. If you haven't discovered your passion yet, start looking for it. What makes you feel brave and unstoppable? What brings you joy? Find that thing and you will find a piece of yourself, I promise. Am I still homesick? Absolutely. Do I still grieve over what I have lost? You bet. But there are pieces of me that this new location cannot take away and I will run free again someday. You will too. Hang in there, my friend.
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~ Halfwolf, Forever Yours 🐾🐺
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the-wytch-is-back · 10 months
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The Forest (Short Story)
[[ Older piece circa around 2017/18 I believe that was inspired by one of my favorite artists Dappermouth! This particular piece was inspired by this beautiful piece, here! ]]
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I’ve always been deeply unsettled by the idea of animals acting as humans. Don’t get me wrong I love my cat, Aster… but the thought of him speaking or walking on two legs is enough to send a chill rushing up my spine. Maybe it’s the dreams I’ve felt plagued by since early childhood… for as long as I can remember, actually.
There are always people… but one person sticks out, they feel much more real than the others. They are usually dressed in black robes, but too obscured for me to really make out. There was one thing that was always clear though… their heads were always replaced with animals. Yet, I’m not sure if replaced was the right word… because as unsettled as it made me feel, it just seemed entirely right.
The dreams were far more frequent when I was younger, I’d wake up in a cold sweat nearly every night. Unable to cry, or to call out to my mother… all I could do was lay with my eyes stuck open. And I could almost swear that I could see a tall, dark shape retreating back into the woods.
The dreams subsided a bit into my teen and college years. That might have been due to stress… to the copious amounts of caffeine and other substances that I used to keep sleep at bay. I found when I spent the night with somebody else the dreams and accompanying sleep paralysis were kept at bay. Going to college in the city might have helped… I had a feeling it felt out of its element in the always-bustling streets of New York City.
It only wanted me… that much was clear. I must sound crazy or conceited, claiming my dreams mean anything or that some supernatural being desired or needed me in any way. But believe me, it does not make me feel special in any way… I feel as if every waking and sleeping moment of my life has been shrouded in fear, anxiety, and a strange sense of anticipation.
The dreams seemed to stop altogether for a time… when I was in grad school getting my master’s degree to teach high school history. Maybe it was the constant feeling of stress, the city, the sleepless nights, or my unwillingness to sleep without another body besides my own.
Yet, I still found myself moving back home to Maine once I had completed my master’s program. It’s so quiet and still here compared to the congested, screaming streets of New York City.
I was given my old family home in my father’s passing… really I was given everything that he had. I had been accepted for a teaching position at my old high school…. the very same position that had belonged to my father till his dying day. I’m not sure if the offer was made because of my credentials… or some sense of pity for my father’s passing. I can’t say that I’m complaining, as finding a job these days is trouble anywhere.
Everything is so quiet here… and it takes somebody used to this place to know the quiet has hidden sounds. Birds chirping, bugs singing their early spring songs, and the peepers that live along the brook…
I feel almost crazy admitting this… but I saw it this morning. And not in my dreams, but standing…. still, unmoving amongst the thin trees that lined the thick forest that dominated most of my small town. It almost seemed static… as if it couldn’t move of its own will, and was attached to the space it occupied.
It stood in those same dark robes, one of its large pale hands raised. The fingertips were red, and I could not tell if they were bloody, or just chilled from the early morning cold. Its head was the muzzle of a black stag. The dark brown antlers were spotted and wound with small leaves, and the beginning buds of flowers.
As the creature finally moved back towards the woods… it still didn’t seem to be moving of its own accord. It felt as if it was being pulled back, like a marionette being controlled by some greater force. Its white eyes stayed locked onto mine until the darkness of the woods finally ate its form completely. But I still felt like it was watching me… like it had been watching me all these years.
I knew that it had missed me… and somehow I had missed it and its many-faced visage.
It wanted me to follow.
And maybe not today… maybe not tomorrow.
But someday I will, and see what lives beyond the trees of that dark forest.
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milarvela · 2 years
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I was at the movies. This trailer looked interesting. Other highlights were hearing Somebody to Love in another trailer and also a bit of Freddie singing in a Coca-Cola ad. A tad odd since I watched Elvis, well, an actor lacking his charm, smirk, humour and sexiness while sporting very white teeth (I thought those were out of fashion now) and distractingly cartoonish lips, not sure if he had cheekbones either (those lips were so lippy), trying to wiggle his hips convincingly. As if any idiot couldn’t have told that it’s the gorgeous smile with the prominent cheekbones and all that should’ve been mimicked first and foremost.
Anyways, it was another misery tale, very much like Bohemian Rhapsody, and Tom Hanks was doing a voice that sounded even more awkward than Rami Malek's whiny Freddie. This Parker just wasn't believable. Nobody would buy a used car from him because of the voice alone. And all that boring talk about snow. Maybe it was meant to have a meaning. But please just shut up and concentrate on the music and maybe show a bit more of Elvis' private life. Make a separate movie about Parker. Could actually be interesting.
The best performance in this movie was Tutti Frutti. Not by Austin Butler as Elvis. Lol, what's with shoving in all those other artists? Poor Elvis, a third rate copy of others. Was that the idea? If so, why not make a biopic of the genuine original performers instead of the poor, miserable copycat? Well, judging by this movie, the highlight of Elvis’ career was fighting for his right to move in a certain way. Okay?
Also finally saw Doctor Strange. I think it was too much for my ability to concentrate and comprehend. I mean, there was a woman who wanted to be a mother but instead of getting children of her own, she stole somebody else's, although it looked like the same actress in both roles. I don't get it. More bafflingly, how was she the villain of the movie and the whole point of the multiverse travelling? Some woman wanting kids? Lol, they really have run out of interesting villains. Well, at least it was different.
The actress gave me soap star vibes, at least until she had to play a sort of zombie. That was funny. Especially the weird underground chase scene with Strange & co stopping to wait for her next move. What was the idea? To build up tension? Moronic. Anyways, couldn't give two shiny shits about who got the kids and what happened to the characters. Just as indifferent as about the latest Bond with its poutyface and her daughter. Speaking of which, 007 made an appearance, and I haven't a clue why. Patrick Stewart was there too, trapped inside a yellow high chair, which was fun. The word illuminati was fun too. So many clumsy jokes, though I did laugh at the cloak trying to wake up Strange. And at the third eye. Not sure if it was meant to be funny. The post credits joke was the worst. So embarrassing. I don't even get why Strange did that to a random guy in the first place. Not cool.
I didn't find America and her relationship with Strange as annoying as I had feared. Except for Strange calling her a kid all the time. Couldn't he remember her name? Aren’t Americans supposed to be inserting each other’s names everywhere? Also, you'd think she'd wanted to find her mums with that power of hers but apparently she couldn't control it. Until she suddenly inexplicably could, and still didn't fuck off to find them. Really? But since I don’t know anything about her and the mums, I guess I wasn’t expected to mind.
Not enough of both Benedicts together, but I was kind of prepared for that. Here's a better movie: multiversions of Strange (I liked the ones I saw) and both Benedicts having an epic adventure together trying to deal with them and travelling in different universes. Skip the extra characters. Or if you must, make Benedicts help America find her mums. Wouldn’t even writers with little imagination have thought that more worthy a mission than a story about random woman’s confusion about motherhood?
I quite like Christine. Don't know why she got married. Who is that husband of hers? Maybe it’s been explained in one of those TV shows I haven't seen. Did he even say/do anything? What was the point of having him there? Well, they got to show a church full of a very diverse set of people. Even more diverse than at that hidey hole where everybody was prepared for an epic battle against that one wannabe mother. I think they lost too. Well, nobody in the movie cared, so why should I? But shouldn’t America at least have realised that the sparkles are useless? Become a mother instead.  
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bluejayblueskies · 3 years
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Please say more abt how Martin fits the closed off trait I'm begging 👁👁
Okay, so I got a bit carried away with this and it got quite lengthy....
I've put a TLDR above the cut and the details, transcripts, and general discussion below the cut!
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TLDR: Martin is at his core a closed-off character who keeps his vulnerable feelings hidden and close to his chest. He instead focuses on caring for others and considering their feelings above his own, particularly in the case of Jon, who he cares for (sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice) throughout the podcast. His arc with the Lonely in season four and his interactions with Jon in season five demonstrate this lack of emotional vulnerability, and it's really only during the moments he spends by himself that we get significant insight into Martin's emotional state and inner thoughts.
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Martin, to me, is a character who is very used to hiding how he feels. He tends to care for others at the expense of himself, has low self-esteem, and has a predilection towards the Lonely, all of which go hand-in-hand with somebody who is very used to hiding their emotions--particularly the negative ones--because they either think they're not important or that they're inconvenient and inappropriate for the situation. On a textual level, that's probably due to growing up with a sick (and likely unsupportive) mother who he had to take care of, where there was 'no time' for his emotions to get in the way or for him to prioritize himself in any way, shape, or form.
Martin is self-destructive, dislikes moments of emotional vulnerability, and (I would argue) genuinely struggles when he doesn't have somebody else to prioritize over himself. (His mother at first, but as the series goes on, Jon settles comfortably into this role for him.) Additionally, the biggest way that we, the audience, know anything about Martin's emotional state is when he's alone and self-reflecting (such as in MAG 170 and 186 or when talking to the tapes) or when he's forced to talk about something vulnerable (such as when Jon confronted him about his CV).
We don't get much insight into Martin's character between seasons one and three (at least not as much as we get in four and five), but I find myself drawn to this bit in MAG 118, when Martin is talking to Elias:
MARTIN
So what? I don’t get to be angry? I don’t get to burn things? Just, just run around, making tea, while everyone else gets to actually have feelings?
I think two things are important to note here. The first is that Elias is surprised (or least intrigued) that Martin is acting in this way--specifically, acting on his emotions in such a dramatic way. (And given that Martin is doing this as a distraction, rather than actually acting out because of his own emotions, maybe he's right to be surprised.) The second is that this line very much implies that Martin doesn't talk about how he's feeling, not like 'everyone else' does. He doesn't talk about it, doesn't act on it--just 'runs around, making tea.' And when Melanie comes back in after Elias is done, Martin immediately focuses on the plan and whether it succeeded, ignoring Melanie when she asks if he's okay or not. He closes himself off, and as far as we know, doesn't talk about it at all after that.
And then Jon goes into his coma, and we reach season four.
Martin is incredibly closed-off during season four. He's self-isolating, self-sacrificial, and approaching a state of genuine emotional numbness by the time he's cast into the Lonely. There's a lot to unpack there, but I'm going to focus on a few main things, many of which can be drawn from this bit in MAG 158:
MARTIN
It’s not him! It’s not anybody. It’s just me. Always has been. I…
When I first came to you, I thought I had lost everything. Jon was dead, my mother was dead, the job I had put everything into trapped me into spreading evil and I… I really didn’t care what happened to me. I told myself I was trying to protect the others, but… honestly we didn’t even like each other. Maybe I just thought joining up with you would be a good way to get killed.
And then… Jon came back, and… and suddenly I had a reason I had to keep your attention on me. Make you feel in control so you didn’t take it out on him. And if that meant drifting further away, so what? I’d already grieved for him. And if it meant now saving him, it was worth it.
When you started talking about the Extinction, though… you had me actually, then, for a while. But then – (laughs sardonically) then, you tried to make me the hero. Tried to sell me on the idea that I was the only one who could stop it. And that I’ve never sat right with me. I mean, I mean, look – look at me, I’m not exactly a – a chosen one. But by then I was in too deep. So I played along. Waited to see what your end game was, and here we are.
Funny. Looks like I was right the first time. It’s probably still a good way to get killed?
This monologue is a big insight into Martin's thought process during this season, and I'm mostly going to focus on two parts: the self-sacrifice and the prioritization of Jon.
Self-sacrifice
There's quite a bit of discussion about Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies, but less so about Martin's, both in this season and in season five. In my opinion, Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies originate from (among other things) survivor's guilt from his traumatic childhood experience with Mr. Spider, his increasing belief that he's less than human, and the fact that he prioritizes the lives of others over his own. Martin's self-sacrificial tendencies, while very similar, come from the fact that he thinks he only has worth if he can help and care for someone else and the fact that he doesn't think he's important enough to live. (For example, he says in MAG 158 that he's 'not exactly a chosen one' and says in MAG 198 that he's 'not important enough to kill.')
It's a subtle difference between these two things, and I would argue that while Jon's tendencies are more rooted in the 'help' (ie, 'I want to help other people and I will sacrifice myself to do it'), Martin's tendencies are more rooted in the 'hurt' (ie, 'I will sacrifice myself and other people will be helped in the process'). There is, of course, overlap, and it's not a black-and-white distinction between the two, but ultimately, I think Martin is so used to prioritizing others' emotions and needs above his own that when he's left mostly alone as he is at the end of season three, with the only person left to hold onto being in a coma (possibly forever), he falls back into the same patterns of self-destruction and closed-offness, only without the 'help' to go along with the 'hurt' because there is nobody left to help (especially after his mother dies). Ultimately, he joins up with Peter because he thinks it 'would be a good way to get killed.'
Prioritization of Jon
But then Jon wakes up from his coma, and now Martin has justification for his self-sacrifice again, because he can protect Jon by continuing to work with Peter!
... Maybe.
Jon isn't harmed by Peter during season four, sure, but he does climb into the coffin and visits Ny-Ålesund and is tracked down by Julia and Trevor and struggles emotionally and morally with his own humanity and is hurt, in a way, by the distance Martin puts between them. And I hesitate to place blame for the apocalypse on anybody but Jonah, but if we're going to argue in-canon that Jon was responsible for the apocalypse (he wasn't, but that's not the point of this post), then Martin contributed to that blame and responsibility because it was his actions and decisions that ultimately drew Jon into the Lonely and resulted in him getting the 14th and final mark. (Again, I don't think Jon or Martin are at fault for the apocalypse, but if we were to blame Jon, we could blame Martin as well.) It was only after getting that mark that Jonah was able to use Jon to end the world, something that was hugely hurtful for Jon. So did Martin really protect Jon at all by staying away from him and continuing to work with Peter? Or was that just a convenient excuse to keep self-destructing?
Jon and Martin, in my opinion, had very similar arcs in season four. Martin was sinking further into the Lonely and Jon was sinking further into the Eye. We hear a lot more about Jon's emotional struggle with this given that he's the POV character, sure, but Jon also talks about this with other people. He talks about it to Helen (MAG 152):
JON
When does it stop?
HELEN
(impatient) What?
JON
The guilt. The misery. All the others I’ve met, they’ve been – cold, cruel. They’ve enjoyed what they do. When does the Eye (inhale) make me monstrous?
And to Daisy (MAG 136):
JON
My – (large sigh) My memories of the coma are not clear, but I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I – I don’t know if I made the right decision; I’m stronger now, tougher, I can – (he cuts himself off) If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever? I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else, so if I can maybe – stop that happening, and the only danger is to me, I – I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario, the universe loses another monster.
But all we really get from Martin are the things he tells the tapes when he's alone and the monologue he gives in MAG 158. It makes sense that he wouldn't be as open, yes, given the nature of the Lonely, but I can't help but think of (MAG 154):
JON
The Lonely’s really got you, hasn’t it?
MARTIN
(no hesitation) You know, I think it always did.
Jon was always curious and hungry for knowledge; the Eye amplified it. Martin was always closed-off and isolated; the Lonely amplified that as well.
But then Jon pulls Martin out of the Lonely, they flee to the safehouse, and three weeks later, the apocalypse begins. Martin isn't as consumed by the Lonely as he was in season four, he's with Jon--the person he loves--for extended periods of time, and they're in an extremely stressful situation that's sure to be incredibly emotionally charged. There's a lot to be said about Jon's emotional vulnerability during season five and how Martin both pressures him for it and rejects it in different ways, but for the purposes of this post, I won't go too far into detail about the motivations behind how Jon is feeling and acting.
I will say, however, that in season five, Martin still continues to place a lot of focus on asking Jon how he's feeling, encouraging (or pressuring) him to share, and getting frustrated when Jon can't or doesn't (MAG 167):
MARTIN
Okay, so how exactly would you describe your current emotional state regarding all of this?
JON
I –
MARTIN
(overlapping) Go on, I’m all ears.
JON
I feel…
MARTIN
(go on) Mhm.
JON
(sigh) I feel… sad.
[Brief pause.] MARTIN
(flat) Sad.
JON
Very sad.
MARTIN
(*very* flat) Very sad.
[He sighs slightly as he says it. Their bags jangle.]
A few moments prior to this, Martin expresses displeasure that Jon is Knowing things about him, specifically pointing out his emotions (MAG 167):
MARTIN
It’s just – it’s weird knowing that you can know literally everything I think and feel. E-Especially since you’re not exactly the most open of people – emotionally, I mean.
I think Martin is making an effort to open up more to Jon. But I still think it's difficult for him to talk about how he feels so openly, and while he is completely in the right for not wanting Jon to Know things about him without his permission, I think it's interesting that the focus is on his feelings and that he brings up how Jon isn't emotionally open immediately after. It scares Martin to think that Jon could know, at any given moment, how he's feeling, and I think it's partially because he's not used to that level of vulnerability. He turns the focus on Jon, away from himself, and doesn't really make an effort to talk about how he's feeling about all of this, instead prioritizing Jon's feelings and mental state like he's grown comfortable with.
And when Martin bottles up his emotions--of which there are a lot, in such a stressful environment, they can explode out in hurtful ways:
MARTIN
(overlapping) I know! I know, okay, I just – (bracing exhale) Look, I j,just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever.
JON
Is that – a joke?
MARTIN
(a bit faster, a bit shaky) No, no, okay? I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!
I don't think Martin really thought about what he was saying when he told Jon, who has a large burn scar on his hand, that burn scars make him sick, and I don't think he meant it maliciously. But he'd spent the greater portion of the conversation talking around the fact that he didn't like burns and that was why he didn't want to go into the building, and so when it finally ended up coming out, it did so in an explosion of emotion rather than a conscious decision to share. Martin doesn't have a good handle on his emotions, and he doesn't have a good handle on sharing them.
(Is it too much for me to say that Martin was more emotionally vulnerable with himself in MAG 170 than he was with Jon when Jon finally found him?)
Throughout season five, Martin asks Jon questions, he expresses frustrations with Jon, he shows discomfort or fear at times, but for as much as Martin feels frustrated that Jon isn't talking about how he feels about their situation, Martin really isn't doing so either. The most he talks about his feelings is in MAG 170 and MAG 186, when he's by himself, and I remember MAG 186 in particular because before that, we really didn't know what Martin was thinking about for the majority of the season! And in this episode, we find out a lot of very important things about Martin's character. Like (MAG 186):
ALSO MARTIN
Look, I know what you know. Maybe I’m just a bit more… open about it.
Also-Martin acknowledges that Martin often doesn't say what he means and hides what he really feels, telling him that it's 'hard to be vulnerable,' and Martin is initially very resistant to the idea. And then, when Also-Martin suggests that Martin wants to stay so that he can be 'quietly sad,' we get (MAG 186):
MARTIN
We could talk to Jon about it.
ALSO MARTIN
We could. But we both know that loved ones make the worst therapists. They’re too wrapped up in trying to stop you hurting to actually help. But hey, we know all about that, am I right?
MARTIN
There’s nothing wrong with comforting people.
ALSO MARTIN
A cup of tea isn’t a resolution. At best it’s a… a plaster. At worst… a muzzle.
This is very interesting to me, because for all that Martin tries to help other people, he also believes that comfort doesn't always help and that you can't be your loved one's 'therapist.' I think this gives a lot of insight into why Martin doesn't share his emotions with the people he cares about, especially Jon; he doesn't want to put Jon in the position where he'll become his 'therapist,' and he doesn't necessarily think Jon can help. So instead, Martin just chooses not to be vulnerable at all, because he doesn't want to burden the people he cares about. But, when it's just him (MAG 186):
ALSO MARTIN
Don’t lie. You don’t need to. Not here. It’s just us.
He doesn't feel like he needs to pull his emotional punches. He can't accidentally hurt somebody or put them in an awkward position; it's just himself. But what's said to himself remains with himself, and (at least on tape), he doesn't discuss any of this with Jon. Not even the bit about, if it came down to it, Martin would have rather had Jon smite him than continue to rule over a domain. He goes right back to being closed-off around Jon, but now we, the audience, know what lies underneath, and how little of it reaches the surface.
In fact, the thing Martin's probably most vocal about is how Jon's feelings about himself bother him (MAG 199):
MARTIN
I guess that’s why it really bothers me, you know? I try, but I can’t actually imagine ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you.
And it… It hurts to know you can.
And I think he has a tendency to use anger and frustration to cover up hurt, shying away from the admission that something Jon's done has hurt him (an incredibly vulnerable thing) and instead relying on the less-vulnerable and more external anger to cover it. This is more speculation than true analysis, but I think that's a lot of what's happening in MAG 200, when he discovers that Jon has already assumed the position of the pupil and has, in Martin's eyes, broken his promise.
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TLDR: Martin is at his core a closed-off character who keeps his vulnerable feelings hidden and close to his chest. He instead focuses on caring for others and considering their feelings above his own, particularly in the case of Jon, who he cares for (sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice) throughout the podcast. His arc with the Lonely in season four and his interactions with Jon in season five demonstrate this lack of emotional vulnerability, and it's really only during the moments he spends by himself that we get significant insight into Martin's emotional state and inner thoughts.
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fruggo · 3 years
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I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,
Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?
And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing
oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!
i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request
the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)
warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins
word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)
(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)
𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇
when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.
your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.
the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.
it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.
you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.
it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.
“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.
hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.
“that i am,” he replied.
then it was quiet for a while.
very quiet.
well, what were you supposed to say now?
the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—
it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.
it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.
“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.
you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.
however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.
there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.
despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”
quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”
you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”
“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.
“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”
from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.
he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.
𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘
leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.
most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.
that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.
and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.
you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.
your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.
after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.
he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.
you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.
leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”
“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”
leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.
but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”
begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.
but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.
“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.
the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.
you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.
it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.
but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.
the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?
biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..
but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.
leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.
from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍
you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.
you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.
“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.
“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.
you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.
he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.
steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.
eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.
as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.
“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”
you know, the usual friendly stuff.
you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.
and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.
and that was when the chaos started.
steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.
“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”
steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.
it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.
and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.
after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.
“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.
“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.
“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”
he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”
oh. oh.
realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”
“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”
oh.
huh.
you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.
𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍
to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.
this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.
your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.
sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.
this was very funny to you.
not to him.
while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.
he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.
frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.
the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.
so he threw a rock at you.
it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.
“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.
he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.
you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.
“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.
frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.
“i want a truce,” he said.
you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?
he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(
just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.
“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”
he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”
frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”
“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.
of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.
so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.
when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.
when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”
you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.
he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.
this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.
oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.
and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.
listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm
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