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total-drama-brainrot · 7 days

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I'll be honest all I can think of is P!Noah's family react to his tv persona.

Like, they know the littlest of their family is a little unhinged but they know he's not bloodthirsty so they're just a wee bit confused.

(And since Noah has, like, 8 sisters I just like to imagine the rest of their giant family is COMPLETELY normal. Like, they have their own individual quirks like anyone else but they're just normal people.)

If you can't tell one of my favorite dynamics is gremlin x just some guy but in this au it's multiple "just some guy“s and it's platonic.

And they've never actively troed to real P!Noah in either btw. They're perfectly content with their little adrenaline junkie baby brother.

Though it does make me wonder how they react in the P!Noah getting stabbed ask

No, see, this is a part of the AU that I actually have some thoughts for.

P!Noah's whole schtick wouldn't be achievable without the showrunners being aware that he's not really gonna do anything to permanently harm the other competitors- it'd be a PR nightmare to justify having an actual loose canon on the show risking the safety of the other teens. So, at the very least, the producers would know that a lot of his threats of violence or otherwise concerning behaviour are an act. (Or an exaggeration of his wilder tendancies.)

Thankfully, canon has its' own subtle little explanation for keeping someone so 'dangerous' around - Izzy's audition tape(s). In those, Izzy states that she'll do her best to "not be boring", which is probably the line that cemented her inclusion in the show. She's kept around as a conflict starter and an audience engagement device, since her antics are so entertaining to watch.

In a similar vein, in p!Noah's audition tape he explains that he's only auditioning for the show out of boredom, and he mostly sees the whole experience as a relatively quick cash grab - after all, he's wicked smart and plenty talented; it'd be child's play to outperform the other contestants (keep in mind, pretty much all of the OG cast were under the impression that Total Drama was going to be something more akin to a talent-based competition at an island resort). He explains that he's not really interested in the show itself, but it could be fun to spend his summer somewhere new where people don't know him or his eccentricities.

At this point in time, Noah's already got his gameplan planned and set; he's already presenting himself as the stoic and somewhat egotistical bookworm, which honestly isn't too far from his actual personality. Save for his psychotic tendancies, that is. Of course, Noah really is smart - smart enough to know that if he came in guns blazing to an audition tape for what is at it's core a social game, he probably wouldn't be picked.

And then the video is interrupted by one of his siblings, who points out that Noah's idea of "fun" generally consists of tormenting the people around him, providing examples of his more daring pranks from a seemingly endless list.

Then more of his siblings join in, all the while Noah stares towards the camera with a smug smile, which only grows wider - unnaturally wide, with hints of unusually sharp teeth poking from stretched-thin lips - as they share transgression after transgression. The tape ends without elaboration, nothing but a still frame of Noah's sinister smirk.

These pranks themself start off pretty tame sounding, like rigging water balloons full of vinegar above doorsteps. They quickly devolve into Noah cutting the breaks on his teacher's car after recieving an unfair grade, mowing down his classmates on a renegade bumper cart during a school trip to a theme park, and things along those lines. Chris, and more importantly the producers, feel a sense of sadistic kinship with the little psycho after hearing about his dangerous endeavours, and cast him on the spot.

So he's chosen to compete for a similar reason as Izzy; to wreak havoc in an entertaining way, and hopefully to kickstart drama.

His family are fully aware of this, though they don't fully anticipate the gleeful sort of vigour Noah has towards tormenting his castmates whilst remaining undetected... by the castmates. They do, however, expect Noah's sly grins and menacing smirks he throws towards the cameras before each successful prank he pulls off with Izzy. And the blank, uncannily empty stares he fixes towards the audience from the background of challenge footage - as if Noah himself can see through the lens into their souls.

After all, they've dealt with him for his whole life. They know his tricks, they've lived his tricks. The whole family has become accustomed to their baby brother who doesn't fully understand concepts like morality and empathy and, as such, can be a little silly sometimes. And they all know just how committed Noah can be to things he finds fun and interesting.

Their first bout of genuine surprise is during one of his later confessionals, when Noah gets too into the persona he's cultivated and starts portraying himself as violent and out for blood.

In Noah's head, he's just upping the ante of his metasocial game. For his family? They know he isn't nearly as violent as he's portraying himself as.

Sure, he's a little impulsive and thrill-seeking, but he's never had a fascination with blood or sharp objects of whatever else he tries to claim in the confessional. When Noah gets home from his stint on Island his siblings are lining up to berate him for his act - doesn't he realise how dangerous portraying himself as an unstable lunatic for the world to see is?

He justifies that anyone who believed his act is an idiot. It's reality TV - anyone with half a brain knows that things are exaggerated for entertainment purposes. He was just giving the editors something good to work with.

Noah is promptly dogpiled by eight irate older siblings.

(I'm also a big fan of "gremlin & just some guy", in this case it's gremlin & many exasperated some guys who aren't afraid of the gremlin. The rest of his family are perfectly normal people who just so happen to know how to deal with somewhat morally bereft hijinks and tomfoolery thanks to their youngest member. P!Noah has an incredibly healthy home life, he's just like that by design.)

As for the stabbing ask; I'm not sure if I want that little scenario to be "canon" to this AU, (and if it is, it'll be re-written with things like context in mind, as opposed to the shitty sleep-deprived drabble I wrote way back when) but if any of his family witnessed Noah being stabbed on international TV the whole brood would be storming the network's headquaters and/or chasing down the Jumbo Jet to get to him. He's The Baby™, you can't stab The Baby™. (Though, inwardly, they'd all agree that it was karma in action. Noah was tempting fate by playing around with knifes for so long, it was only a matter of time before someone got stabbed.)

#this ended up way longer than i thought it would #summary: p!noah's family know he's a bit of a freak but they love him anyway.#they're also not happy about his choice of public persona but KNOW it's (mostly) an act.#noah's audition tape is 30% actual audition and 70% his criminal record being put on blast #imagine owen steeling himself to meet a family of nine noahs only to be met with eight of the nicest normalest people he's ever known.#izzy's excited to meet the mudaliars and they take one look at her and collectively think “oh no not another one”#total drama #psycho!noah au #silly ideas #others' ideas #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)#👈 this ask is from almost a month ago.

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melancholicmarionette · 2 years

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(One of many things languishing in my drafts, based on my love for long-form, narrative based journalism and the fact that applying anything close to realism to this show is very fun. This isn’t finished and might not be so I’m throwing it out there)

Kids in the Abyss

Excerpts from Team Phantom’s first post-reveal interview together, a long form profile written by Anne Donnelly for Paranormal Digest.

—

The Fenton’s home is unique, even disregarding the laboratory concealed by a secured metal door just off the living room. Jack and Maddie Fenton purchased and refurbished the building, an abandoned fire house, shortly after moving to Amity Park. The changes made varied in scale, from a subterranean lab of glistening chrome and toxic green, to simply removing the fireman’s pole to prevent clumsy children from “learning about gravity too soon.”

Daniel Fenton is one of those children, known as the clumsier one when compared to his sister Jasmine. One of the first things I ask him when we sit down on the Fentons’ living room sofa is if that has changed since he, for lack of a better term, gained super powers.

“Absolutely not,” he replies without hesitation, “if anything, I’m worse.”

One thing the world seems to agree on about Danny Fenton is that he is the kid people would last expect to be a superhero.

“To be fair, there aren’t a whole bunch of superheroes to ask,” he says of this notion.

He’s right, of course, but it still seems unlikely at first glance. He looks different from his alter-ego, his eyes a clear blue and his hair dark, but upon looking closer it’s very clear there’s more to the sixteen year old than meets the eye. His gaze was very calculating when we first met, assessing if I was trustworthy, if I was a threat, as I’m sure he had to do countless times with varying results.

He hasn’t done any kind of interview since his brief guest appearance on the local news, he and his friends refused requests for interviews from the most famous talk shows in the country.

“I just…” he pauses, looking down and away in thought, “I never really wanted to be…famous, I guess. I think I used to, and I definitely wanted to respected and stuff, yeah. I don’t have a choice over a lot of that anymore, but I still have some modicum of control over what people know about me. By the way, my height is wrong on my Wikipedia page and they won’t let me change it. I’m 5’11”, for what it’s worth.”

(He is, for the record)

—

Sam Manson’s home is opulent, decadent in a way that reminds one of a more refined age—not the sleek, modern home of today’s new money, but adorned with historic decor and chandeliers.

“Grotesque, isn’t it?” Sam tells me when I comment. She’s not a fan of her family’s flaunting of wealth, as much as she enjoys some of the privileges it allows her. Looking at her outfit, an extra long Dumpty Humpty t-shirt and fishnet tights Tucker into dark denim shorts, it’s not hard to believe that she would prefer a more Addams Family aesthetic.

It’s clear from existing comment and from her social media—both personal and a Danny Phantom account—that she is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to her boyfriend, whom she’s known since childhood. I ask her why she and their other friend, Tucker Foley, are behind his verified account.

“Danny’s always been really bad at social media in general,” she tells me, “and we don’t get as overwhelmed by all the comments and messages we get daily. Like…Danny’s fought a ghost king and he’s saved the world but nothing terrifies him more than Twitter.”

—

Never having been above the odd conspiracy theory, considering my career, the first thing I ask Tucker Foley when we gather at his family’s kitchen table is to tell me about r/dannyphantom

“About the subreddit, or what I…” he pauses, “may or may not have done to it?” He grins when he finishes the sentence, in a way that’s a bit sinister.

The subreddit r/dannyphantom was spun off of r/amitypark about a year after the hero’s first appearance, and devolved into chaos shortly before the Disasteroid incident, due to the comments of one u/phantomarchiver on various theory threads.

“You’re all chasing your tails” the user would claim in one thread, and in another a cryptic “if I were you, I would stop looking further into this.”

Tucker recalled how he and his friends came to monitor the subreddit, going in anonymously every now and then to throw off the scent if any theories came too close. He didn’t know u/phantomarchiver’s mysterious but concise comments would eventually cause the members of the subreddit to turn against each other and fight to such an extreme that it now sits nearly empty.

“There are a lot of aspects of keeping huge secrets like this that aren’t fun,” Tucker tells me, “but that. That was fun. It was like a piranha feeding frenzy.”

“Did you intend to take the entire forum down?”

“God, no,” Tucker assured me, “I’m all for discussions, but people were dropping peoples real names, bringing up records of missing people that Phantom could be the ghost of. I’m very pro-free speech, but also very pro-[expletive] around and find out.”

#danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #these isn’t even a story idk if they’re even headcanons #i just had fun and it’s just in here #so now you can have it

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clairethecutepup · 4 months

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An Upcoming, yet Odd, Crossover to Come...

I've finally decided on doing that tale I mentioned in a prior post, click "keep reading" to hear of the tale to be, now that I've posted this as a "preview" and "back-up" in case something happens to the actual bible for this idea.

Series Name:

The Dreams and Nightmares We Share…

Full-on Synopsis:

Dreams are meant to be eventually awakened from, so what happens when a quintet, composed of those from different worlds, suddenly find themselves unable to with this shared adventure? Certainly an odd combination indeed, they all are…

There’s Sarah and Jimmy (Ed Edd n’ Eddy and Peach Creek), two “normal” humans who are now adults and display the cartoonish strength/endurance of those within their eccentric world; there’s Seve and Alexis (Corn Kidz 64), two teenage “developmentally crippled goats” (as their world’s experts agree) with the alleged “corn powers” to assist in navigating this dream realm; and Claire, one of the many human-animal hybrids of her world (wolf), who loyally does her best as the “sidekick” to whomever all she follows.

They navigate through a strange dreamscape, composed of many realms, as they try helping each other in returning home. Unfortunately, the realms’ obstacles are the least of their worries, when some odd creatures come forth-- wearing their faces, in a most uncanny manner. Should the quintet fail to safely return even one of themselves back to their world and respective body, there’d be a fatality count beyond just the one or, Heaven forbid, five. After all, these doppelgangers aren’t motivated by assuming new lives to live, but: an awaiting and “not-too-quick feast” in Sarah and Jimmy’s world, many “toys” to sadistically play with and devour upon “breaking” within Claire’s world, and Seve and Alexis’ world contains plenty of goats whom the devil himself would adore being offered for ritualistic sacrifices of latex horse costumes and jello (a lot more horrifying than sounds-- especially as children are favored…).

Shorter Synopsis:

Two different duos and one lone girl find themselves together, as they try to return to their respective worlds. Unfortunately, perhaps some dreams aren’t meant to be awakened from-- especially if a sinister double or two has anything to say about it.

Misc. Notes:

*Being adults now, Sarah and Jimmy will differ from their more familiar childhood (and teenhood, counting Peach Creek) selves:

Sarah has (mostly) learned to control her temper, on a physical level at the very least. She’s not shy of throwing insults nor similar, though, and “Fathead!” is still a favorite. She will still punch and all when aggravated enough.

Jimmy finally found that balance between kind/innocent soul and “fiendish mastermind”: he’s still willing to get what he wants or be tempted by personal vices, but he no longer goes the route of “overkill” or acting outside necessity (“I might be devious, but I’d never devolve into being monstrous instead!”).

Jimmy still gets hurt sometimes, but he’s often able to walk it off and proclaim, “I’m okay!”

Over all, it’s essentially like their doubles are a battle of a past’s even worse versions against what’s matured and bettered.

*Seve and Alexis have practiced their “corn powers” a tad more (Seve mostly by Lexi’s prompting):

In addition to portals, Alexis can now mildly manipulate parts of the environment. Unfortunately, her (and the other ones’) double is little more than a writhing shark in oceanic pursuit or “Weeping Angel,” so not even a sudden portal underneath the fiend will prevent her from suddenly appearing again through a wall, per se.

Seve is a parkour master, just as anyone should expect of an actual goat, now that he can do more than the “horn dash” move in his dreams: he can wall-jump multiple times on the same wall, he can climb up the steepest and tallest of surfaces, he doesn’t even need a “boost pad” to sprint up surfaces… Unfortunately, his (and the others’) double can easily keep up.

*Claire can actually speak properly, as it’s a dream. In example, she’ll now say, “Hi, I’m Claire!” instead of the grammatical headache, “‘I, I’ ‘air’!” Of course, she’s still mostly quiet and soft spoken, still opting to communicate more with expressions and gestures than her newfound (and highly simplistic) speech.

*It’ll be annoying to just call them, “Sarah’s doppelganger” or “Claire’s twin,” so each double has an actual name to them: Josue (Jimmy’s), Saniyah (Sarah’s), Azariah (Alexis’), Simeon (Seve’s), and Chessa (Claire’s).

*Josue and Saniyah are based upon Je-Rouges: Haitian werewolf spirits that are known to possess/control, and serve as an unholy combination of wolf and vampire that can take on ANY living form.

*Azariah and Simeon are reminiscent of Cadejos: Hispanic wolves that bear resemblance to goats, from the hooves replacing paws or horns atop the head, and can be associated with the devil himself. Azariah is the black variant, Simeon the white one (either can be the “evil” one-- even though the “black” one is more often associated with the devil). They also bite, despite the Cadejo being said to mostly “peck” its victims to death.

*Chessa resembles a Volkodlak: a Slavic werewolf often associated with immense evil. After all, one legend’s version foretells: “Those with enough evil in their souls can put on a wolfskin and become the Volkodlak.” Not surprising it’s an evil beast, when you can identify one in human form from the “terrifying blue eyes” that can still pierce you and fill you with anticipation of your demise.

*A certain wolfish grim reaper also shows up, but he’s willing to give everyone a chance to leave the dream and return to their bodies. After all, it’s never easy when they’re in their early 20’s and especially younger… Unfortunately, the most he’s able to do is tell them, “Hey, you gotta get back to your bodies to wake up and truly stay alive,” or maybe interfere with the quintet of doppelgangers that make his job oh-so harder whenever they enter someone’s world… Unfortunately, not even death himself can truly put down whatever horrid abominations those doubles are.

*Since it’s following the nature of Conker’s Bad Fur Day, it’ll involve references and all; however, the idea should be to combine various scenes into a coherent story sequence, like combining The Shining’s bar scene with that of Puss in Boot’s: The Last Wish’s for one of the doubles’ introduction. (Unofficial) Example:

Seve: I’d give my soul for some nachos…

Claire(?): *suddenly near him and Alexis* To be honest, I feel like someone could use something else from you instead…

Alexis: Oh, there you are! … Uh, how long have you been here?

Claire(?): Here, go ahead, Seve. You always did like them, right?

Seve: … Yeah… *takes them* Hey, is it me, or are you acting strange?

Claire(?): Come on, there’s nothing wrong here. Come on, take some yourself, Lexi.

Alexis: Um, thanks…

Claire(?): Of course, anything for you guys. After all… We all have a right to a “last meal,” don’t we?

*The two goats freeze on their first chips, realizing Claire’s blue eyes aren’t those adorable and large spheres, but glowing and cruelly anticipating…*

Seve: … You’re not Claire…

Claire(?): You might wanna eat up, otherwise it’s wasteful. I mean, there are “last meals,” but never free ones… *she stands up and is suddenly taller than the two* I’m afraid “credit” isn’t ever a fine concept with myself, I prefer payment upfront. *opens her paws to reveal the sharpest of nails* You don’t want to have paid with your lives for nothing, do you? Then again, I’d probably have killed you both anyhow, just like how your little “twins” are helping me with mine. Let’s hope they’re done already ‘cause I’m about to be…

*Steps are to be taken to avoid a whiplash between the horror and comedy aspects. If anything, it’s meant to be a lighter and fun tale, with the spice of “tension” and “terror” sprinkled in for a flavorful dish of literature. Say goodbye to any “M” ratings, as well, only “PG” or “PG-13” at worst.

#seve #alexis #corn kidz 64 #sarah #jimmy #ed edd n eddy #eene #crossover #fanfiction #oc and canon #preview #bible #peach creek #series idea

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Captive

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] You’re glad you managed to talk Dream out of giving all that TNT to Wilbur, but what you don’t know is just how far Wilbur is willing to go to get his hands on it.

Warnings: tw// depictions of kidnapping, some cursing (Tommy exists), + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted to see dream’s reaction to a kidnapping of his s/o! i played around a little with the original idea, but i hope you enjoy!

The door to your bedroom opened with a soft creak, the wooden door squeaking at its hinges as you pushed it open. You strolled inside with a tune on your lips as you sat on your side of the bed, a soft breath escaping you.

It had been a long day, to say the least.

To think of all the days Wilbur could have confronted Dream, it was going to be today.

You sighed at the thought, pressing a finger to your temple. It was difficult to pinpoint just when Wilbur had begun his slow descent into madness, but it was growing more prominent with each passing day. He no longer resembled the kind, sarcastic man you once recognized, instead having devolved into something far more sinister and cunning. You didn’t realize just how low he’d sunk until he had called Dream to him, and by proxy you, with a particular demand.

He wanted as much TNT as Dream could possibly provide in return for the fall of Manberg.

You could hardly believe your ears, let alone your eyes as you watched Wilbur describe exactly how his plot would unfold. The crazed look in his eye was terrifying, and you could tell with just one look that he was too far gone to be saved.

Before Dream even had the chance to say anything, you had grabbed his hand, tugging him a few feet away from Wilbur with the simple request of a few moments to talk things over.

“You can’t give it to him,” you remembered saying, your eyes dark with resolve. “You just can’t.”

His cold, ceramic mask had stared back at you. “Why not? Manberg is doomed to fall, anyways—why shouldn’t we help him?”

You had pursed your lips, your gaze growing serious. “Dream, we shouldn’t be condoning this. Who knows how many lives would be lost if we went through with it?” You had wrapped your hands around his, a silent plea flashing in your eyes as your voice grew soft. “Please, Dream. This is wrong. Please, I’m begging you.”

A moment had passed in silence, your shoulders tense with worry before his hand wrapped around yours, squeezing gently. “Okay,” he had murmured, and you could almost imagine the look in his emerald eyes. “I won’t do it.”

To say Wilbur was livid would be an understatement.

You shivered at the thought. Rarely did Wilbur lose his composure, but today was the most terrifying sight of them all. You’d never seen him shout like that. Dream had to practically cart the both of you back to the SMP, Wilbur’s incessant curses lingering in the air for miles to come.

With a sigh, you curled your toes, shaking your head. Even though no trade was made, you still couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

A quiet meow came from in front of you, and you raised your head to see Patches standing a few feet away. A smile spread across your face and you clicked your tongue, bending over to tap your fingers along the ground at your feet. “C’mere, pretty,” you crooked, “c’mere!”

“Are you talking about me?”

You looked up at the doorway to your bedroom, your lips twitching at the sight of Clay leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and his mask in hand. Below you, Patches padded across the wooden floorboards to your feet, rubbing up against your leg. “Mm,” you mused, tapping at your chin, “I wouldn’t call you pretty, per se.”

He gasped, holding his hand over his chest as though he’d been shot. “Really?”

You cocked your head at him as Patches leapt up onto the bed next to you, her tail brushing again your arm. “Why, yes.” A teasing grin danced on your lips. “As a matter of fact, I’d say you’re much more handsome than you are pretty.”

He raised a brow at you, a cocky look crossing his face. “Oh, handsome, you say?”

You smirked back at him. “Very.”

Patches crawled over into your lap, her paws pressing gently against your calves as she settled in. You smiled down at her, but the tension in your shoulders didn’t drop. Sucking in a breath, you opened your mouth.

“Clay?”

He turned, his emerald gaze shooting to you. “Yeah?”

You swallowed, casting your gaze down toward the ground. “I know we already talked about this, but I just wanted to be extra sure.”

He stared at you for a moment, setting his mask on the nightstand on his side of the bed. “Is this about Wilbur?”

Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes nodding slowly. “Yes,” you said in a small voice.

His lips quirked, and he slipped into the spot on the bed next to you. “I know you’re still worried. I don’t exactly have a...” He paused. “...great track record with TNT.” You let out a breathy laugh. “But I won’t hand any of it over.” He reached over, his hand slipping yours into his. “Not even a single stick of dynamite. I swear it.”

You peered up at him through your lashes, your eyes searching his. “Do you promise?” you whispered.

He leaned toward you pressing his forehead to yours as he rubbed his thumb in small circles on the back of your hand. “Promise.”

Your lips curled up at his words, and you raised his other hand to his cheek, leaning in. He met you halfway as your lips pressed against one another in a soft kiss. You could feel him smile into your mouth, and you stifled a giggle as he pulled away with a lopsided grin on his face.

On your lap, Patches let out a soft meow. Her big green eyes blinked lazily up at you before she dipped her head, nuzzling her face into your pyjama pants. Meowing back at her, Clay reached over and stroked his hand gently over the top of her head, his smile widening at the sound of her soft purr. You opened your mouth to say something when you were cut off by a yawn pushing past your lips.

Clay cast a soft look at you, and he tilted his head at you. “Hey, let’s go to bed, yeah? You’re tired.”

You feigned annoyance, sticking your tongue out at him. “Yeah, because you’re so boring.”

He looked appalled. “What?”

Your lips twitched into a grin. “Kidding.” You squeezed his hand in yours lovingly. “I love spending time with you, even if we’re not really doing anything.”

Getting to his feet, he walked to the other side of the room, flicking off the lights and enveloping the room in darkness. “Well,” he said, striding over to his side of the bed and pulling back the covers as he slipped in, “you and I will get to do a whole lot of nothing together if you get in bed, okay? So, hurry up.”

You rolled your eyes but relented, your eyes glimmering with mirth. “Alright, alright.”

Ever so gently, you picked Patches up from off your lap and set her on the ground, your heart sighing at the sound of her soft mewl. The moment her paws touched the ground, she trotted out of the room, the door swinging closed behind her. You shook your head at her before sliding under the sheets. Almost automatically, Clay opened his arms up and you snuggled up to his chest, a comforting warmth enveloping you as his arm draped over your waist.

“Goodnight, Clay,” you whispered into the dark, just for him to hear.

You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, [Y/N].”

You were stirred out of sleep by an itching in your throat.

Blinking open your bleary eyes, you coughed into the crook of your arm once, slowly growing conscious with each passing second. The room was still dark, the moon peeking down at you through the windowpanes, and pressed against your back was something warm and solid. You smiled, snuggling back against Clay’s chest, his arm unconsciously tightening around you as your eyelids fluttered shut.

Just as you felt yourself about to doze off again, another cough flew from your lips.

Quickly covering your mouth, careful not to wake Clay, you suddenly realized just how dry your mouth was. Frowning, you opened your eyes once more, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you slowly wrapped your hand around Clay’s wrist. With a touch as light as a feather, you slipped his arm off from around your waist and you wiggled out of his warm embrace, bringing yourself up into a sitting position. You were seconds away from pulling off the covers when he shifted, his face nuzzling into the spot where your head once lay.

“Mm... [Y/N]...” he murmured, sleep slurring his words together as his hand twitched at his side. “Wh... where’re ya going...?”

You smiled, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand. “Just gonna get a glass of water,” you whispered back, moving some hair away from his face.

Leaning over, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Sweet dreams,” you said into his ear as you pulled away, watching with a fond smile as he relaxed at your touch, the stress vanishing from his features in an instant.

Seeing Clay sleep was more comforting than you’d like to admit. It was one of the only times where he ever got to just be Clay and not Dream—just a simple guy who needed his rest just like anybody else.

Swinging your legs off the bed, you sliding out from under the covers and tread across the floor, your socks silencing your every step. You swung open the door as quietly as you could, slipping out into the hall and making your way toward the kitchen. Turning on the lights would surely hurt your eyes too much, so you fumbled around the wall for a moment before pulling open a cabinet and successfully grabbing a glass for yourself. Finding the sink was much easier, and you shortly found yourself closing the tap and taking a long swig of water from your cup.

As you sipped, the wind howled outside, sending a chill running down your spine. You shivered, snuggling further into your sweater. You were glad you wore something thicker to bed, today—it was cool out.

Once you finished, you set your glass back in the sink and began walking back to your and Clay’s bedroom. You had maybe made it halfway down the hall when you heard something a quiet clank behind you. You froze, turning to look over your shoulder.

“Patches?” you called out into the dark hallway, another chill overtaking your shoulders. “Is that you?”

Before you knew what was happening, an arm had wrapped around your waist, tugging you back and pressing you firmly against someone’s chest.

Panic shot through your skull like a bullet, and you opened your mouth to let out a scream.

All of a sudden, a fist slammed against your temple, and you felt your vision immediately darken, your shout vanishing as though it had been ripped away from you.

Clay, was the last thing you thought before the darkness consumed you.

Clay awoke to the feeling of something soft tickling his nose.

“What...?” he muttered aloud to himself, batting a hand over his face. For a moment, the softness disappeared, but it returned a second later. Slowly blinking awake, he saw a paw brush over his forehead, and he nearly rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, Patches,” he said with a slight frown, watching as the cat leapt over his head. The bed dipped at his side where she landed, and he sighed. “[Y/N],” he murmured while brushing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, “did you want to feed her?”

A moment passed, and he was met with silence.

“[Y/N]?”

More silence.

Furrowing his brow, he rolled over, his arm reaching for your warmth.

His blood ran cold when his hand met nothing but the cold sheets.

He bolted upright, his hands desperately grasping at the sheets as his eyes darted this way and that across the room. Everything in the room seemed just as it was the day before, but with one main difference.

You weren’t there.

Clenching his jaw, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall every memory he had of the last night. He remembered the warmth of your lips on his cheek as you slipped out of bed, murmuring something about getting of glass of water. He didn’t remember you coming back to bed after.

He cast a glance at Patches, who sat at his side and looked back at him with her big green eyes. She meowed at him, and it all suddenly clicked.

The next few moments came in a blur. He kicked the sheets off of him, not bothering to fix them as he slid off the bed and scrambled towards the door, swinging it open with a slam. Next thing he knew, he was running through every room of the house, ducking his head into the kitchen and pantry, the bathroom and closet. No door remained unopened, and no stone remained unturned.

It was only after he had gone through just about every single room that he let the terror begin to set in.

Nowhere—you were absolutely nowhere to be found.

He swallowed, his hands tightening into fists at his side as he paced through the corridor. You wouldn’t have left him, especially not like this. If you were going to leave, you would have told him before you did so. Hell, you would have at least left a note.

It was at that moment that he passed the front entrance, and his eyes flashed, landing on a folded piece of paper taped to the wooden door.

A note.

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Clay rushed over, practically tearing the page off the door before frantically unfolding it. His eyes darted rapidly across every line, reading in a frenzy.

Salutations, Dream!

It has come to my attention that you are growing funnier than ever, rudely declining my humble request. Well, I have just the perfect remedy for that! You might have noticed that you happen to be missing a rather precious possession of yours, and I’m sure you’ve been in quite the panic. In brief, yes, I have [Y/N]; they’re my captive. I’ll be keeping them until I have you providing me with what I asked. I’ll take as much TNT as you can provide, but at least a stack would be just wonderful. You know what they say—the more the merrier!

I may have never seen your face before, but I can just imagine how angry you must be. Boohoo, are you gonna cry? How cute. Don’t you know, Dream? All’s fair in love and war.

My fondest regards,

Wilbur Soot

Clay reread the note once, twice, thrice until he had nearly memorized every single word inked onto the page. Staring down at the paper in his hands, a slow, sinking sense of horror dug its claws into his shoulders.

Wilbur had you. He had taken you, and you were his hostage.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing thickly. “Fuck,” he muttered, low and dark.

There was no question about it—he was going to get you back. But how?

He wasn’t about to hand over the TNT Wilbur so desperately wanted that easily. You two had even talked about it and why that would be a terrible idea—he promised you he wouldn’t. He knew that you would be absolutely heartbroken if he broke your promise, even if it meant saving you.

He gritted his teeth, a low growl escaping his throat. No one else besides you knew that he had even attempted to conspire with Wilbur. There was no one he could turn to for help.

It looked like he was going to have to do this himself.

Clay turned, a dark look forming in his eyes as he crumpled the note in his hands, the paper’s edges digging into his skin.

Even if he had to do it alone, there was one thing he was sure of.

He was going to bring you back home, safe and sound.

“You know, this is probably the most pathetic you’ve ever looked.”

You grimaced, the frown on your face deepening as you tugged against the ropes binding you to your chair.

“Thanks, Wilbur.”

To think you’d be kidnapped in the dead of night by Wilbur Soot of all people. And just to make matters even worse, you were tied to a chair in front of him wearing your pyjamas.

This might just be the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to you.

He flashed you a manic grin, spinning around with his arms outstretched. “Oh,” he sighed, pressing a hand to his cheek thoughtfully, “what do you reckon Dream’s feeling right about now?”

From his spot against the wall, Tommy muttered quietly, “He’s probably pretty fuckin’ pissed.”

Wilbur stopped his spinning, his expression falling flat as he tucked a hand under his chin. He nodded once, then twice. “Good. That’s good. We want him to be mad. We want him to be panicking.” He turned, casting a glance at you. “Do you think he’s panicking? Does Dream panic?” His deranged grin returned. “I would love to see him panic.”

You kept your mouth shut, an uneasy feeling churning in your gut. This was nothing like the Wilbur you remembered.

A cough came from your left, and your gaze darted to follow it. Tommy still leaned against the wall, his eyes lying on yours. He almost looked guilty standing there, his hands clenched into fists at his side. The moment your eyes locked onto his, he turned away. Your heart sank. Is Tommy in on this, too? A part of you didn’t want to believe it, but the other couldn’t imagine any other reason why he would be here.

“Say, [Y/N],” Wilbur said, his voice drawing your attention back to him, “how many blocks of TNT do you think Dream would be willing to give up for you?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Just how much do you think you’re worth?”

You froze, staring down at your feet. That was a good question, one you weren’t quite sure you wanted to know the answer to.

On one hand, Clay loved you—you knew that. He had told you so more times than you could count. But at the end of the day, Clay wasn’t just Clay, the man you loved. He was also Dream, the genius mastermind. Was he really going to spend the resources to save you at the cost of so much? Would you be left to the mercy of a madman? The thought terrified you.

On the other, you were equally as terrified of just how far Clay might go. He was stubborn like that. If he came with the TNT in hand to trade for your safety, you knew you would be putting dozens of people’s lives on the line just for yours. That wasn’t a fair trade, either.

You felt sick to your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your chin to meet his gaze. “Wilbur,” you said, trying to ignore the burn of the rope around your wrists, “this isn’t like you.”

He suddenly went still, and a stone of anxiety dropped into the pit of your stomach.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

He whirled, a stony look crossing his features. “It isn’t?” he repeated slowly, taking a step toward you. “Oh, it isn’t?”

You gulped, a tinge of fear running down your spine as he stopped in front of you, bending over to be eye-level with you. His dark gaze bore into yours, almost as if his eyes were piercing right through you. His low voice wrapped around you, constricting you tighter than the rope binding you to the chair.

“The old Wilbur is long dead and gone now, [Y/N],” he whispered, deadly quiet, “and he isn’t ever coming back.”

You could only stare and try to calm the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Insane—he had gone absolutely insane.

Leaning back again, Wilbur gave you another once over before waving dismissively, turning his back on you. “Tommy,” he said, “put [Y/N] in the cell and make sure it’s locked until Dream shows up with his gifts.”

He began stepping away when he suddenly stopped, throwing one more glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and don’t even try to escape.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You and I know very well that you wouldn’t make it even five feet.”

With that, he strolled up the stairs, disappearing out of view. Your shoulders sagged with relief the moment he vanished from sight. You didn’t think you could stand locking eyes with him for another second.

It was then that you suddenly felt yourself losing contact with the ground, the chair being lifted along with you. You gasped, turning your head to see Tommy picking you up, his eyes averted from yours. You opened your mouth, then closed it when you saw just how much remorse was swimming in his gaze.

You watched silently as he carried you over to the empty cell carved into part of the ravine wall. Flinging open the iron bars with one hand, he pushed your chair inside with the other. Setting you down flat on the earth, Tommy slowly began untying the knots binding your wrists to the back of the chair. A few moments later, you felt the ropes unravel, the uncomfortably warm tightness of the rope finally giving way to the cool air. You rubbed at your wrists, wincing slightly at the aching of your skin.

Before you could even properly register what was happening, the sound of iron slamming against iron filled the air, and you whipped your head up to see Tommy shoving a key in the cell padlock. A loud click echoed off the stone walls as he turned the key, grimacing.

Your body moved without thinking. Scrambling forward on buckling legs, you bolted forward, your hands gripping onto the freezing iron bars to regain your balance. “Tommy,” you said, your wide eyes scanning his face for any sign of warmth. “Tommy, please—this isn’t right and you know it.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he looked away, a guilty look flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he said quietly as he turned away, sorrow seeping into each syllable.

The words felt like a slap to your face, and you were stunned into silence as he walked off without another word. Not even Tommy—wild, reckless but good-intentioned Tommy—was on your side.

You were truly and utterly alone.

Turning, you took in the furniture in your cell. There was a single, small cot in the corner of the room, and a door located on the same wall as the headboard. You could only assume it led to a bathroom, Otherwise, the rest of the room was entirely barren with nothing to be seen.

So, this was what it was like to be a prisoner.

Something stung at the back of your eyes, your heart squeezing so tightly in your chest that it felt like it was going to burst. Letting go of the iron bars, you made your way across the room, climbing onto the cot and leaning your back against the wall. You curled up on the thin sheets, tucking your knees to your chest.

This wasn’t like the warmth of the bed you shared with Clay. It was cold, and barren, and so, so lonely.

You missed him, and it hurt.

You could only hope that the pain would fade with time.

Clay slammed his head into his desk, a deep sigh of pure frustration escaping his lips as his breakfast sat untouched beside him.

It had been two days since you’d been taken, and he had never felt so terrible.

He never realized just how much of his daily life revolved around you. He woke up with you, he ate with you, he slept next to you, he laughed with you, he loved you. It wasn’t until you had been ripped away from him that he truly understood how much you had woven yourself into his life.

He missed you more than he thought was humanely possible.

Staring down at his bowl, he shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth and began to chew. He couldn’t even begin to imagine just how awful Wilbur and Tommy were being to you, right now. Did they give you a bed to sleep on? Were they feeding you? How were you sleeping?

His mind absolutely swarmed with thoughts of you, consuming every empty space in his head, and he groaned. He couldn’t spend all his time contemplating ‘what if’s. He had to focus on the rescue plan. There was no way in hell that he was going to hand over that TNT—he promised you—but there was also absolutely no chance that he was going to abandon you.

He swallowed the mouthful, setting his spoon down as he clenched his jaw. The plan was complex, but do-able. Unfortunately, it was also risky—more risky than he’d like. Any sentence that included “[Y/N]” and “risky” was not a sentence he liked, to say the least.

He spared another glance at his cereal. It tasted like ash. Shaking his head, he stood up with a deadpan expression, walking over to the sink and reaching for the tap. Despite his calm demeanour, all he felt was rage—pure, unfiltered rage.

Just then, there came a knock at the front door.

Clay’s hand froze, halfway toward the tap. Grimacing, he turned on his heel to grab his mask from off the tabletop. With practiced ease, he attached the clasp to the back of his head, the cool plastic of his mask securely pressed against to his face.

Striding over to the lobby, he wrapped his hand around the handle, sucking in a breath and exhaling. Then, he pulled the door open, opening his mouth in greeting, but the words died in his mouth.

He stared at the figure standing in front of him, his eyes wide in disbelief.

This wasn’t who he was expecting at all.

“I want to help.”

You chewed on your lip, the cogs inside your head spinning at what felt like a million miles a minute as you stared long and hard at the stone wall.

How long has it been since you last saw daylight? You weren’t sure at this point.

You could hardly tell if it was day or night anymore. You could sometimes guess whenever you got a glimpse of Tommy’s bedhead when he brought food to you, but then you learned that the kid liked to take naps, so that went out the window.

You frowned, slumping over on your knees. This sucks. I’m completely and utterly useless. A wave of sadness washed over you. I want to go home.

A low whistle echoed through the ravine, a shiver running down your spine. If you could escape, you probably would have at this point. The problem was, you neither had the key to your cell, nor did you know where in the world you were even being held. You knew that it was somewhere underground of course, but that was hardly any basis to work with if you wanted to find your way back home.

Simply put, you were stuck, and all you could do was sit and wait.

You closed your eyes, picking up the thin blanket they had given you and wrapping it around yourself. You’d hardly gotten any sleep lately. Maybe you should at least try.

Some time passed in silence, your breathing gradually slowing down as your joints grew more relaxed. You were just on the brink of sleep when you were startled awake by the sound of a key turning.

Jolting, you lifted you head to see a figure swinging open your cell door and slipping inside. You jaw dropped.

“Tommy?” you said.

Immediately, he pressed a finger to his lips as his other hand shot out to grab your wrist, his gaze panicked. “Shh!” he hissed, his grip tightening. “Be fucking quiet, will you?”

You snapped your mouth shut, your eyes the size of saucers. Just what the hell is happening, right now?

With a tug, he pulled you to your feet, your mind still wracked with questions. You shot him a quizzical look, but he simply shook his head at you, dragging you forward and out of the cell. Your eyes swept across the ravine as he took a sharp turn, pressing you flat against the wall beside him.

There was a beat of silence. You held your breath.

Then your legs were flying out beneath you as he suddenly pulled you up the stairs you had seen Wilbur tread so many times before.

Right. Wilbur. Wasn’t Tommy on Wilbur’s side? You didn’t know anymore.

At the top of the stairs, rather than having reached the surface, you found yourself standing in a small dirt hut, with two beds pressed against the wall and a few chests lined up on the ground. You felt your confusion only grow as Tommy opened up a small hatch at the top before gesturing for you to climb up. You didn’t even bother asking before grabbing onto the sides of the trapdoor and housing yourself upward, gasping at the feeling of fresh air filling your lungs.

Above you, tall oak trees stood over you, the night sky shrouding the earth in darkness. You were in a forest, but most importantly, you were out.

You tumbled to the ground, your hands pressing into the dewy grass beneath you. You could hardly care that you weren’t even wearing shoes. A giddy smile crossed your face and you threw your hands into the air as you opened your mouth in a shout. “I’m ou—!”

A hand slapped over your mouth, cutting off your scream of delight. Tommy panicked face came into view in front of you, shaking his head wildly. “Don’t,” he mouthed, the word coming out silently, “say a word.”

You nodded, your eyes wide as you tapped at the back of his hand. He paused for a moment before removing it from your face, his shoulders sagging. He turned, quickly taking in his surroundings before gesturing for you to follow him.

You couldn’t help but make a face. Tommy was never careful. This had to be serious.

With each couple of steps he took, he would press himself up against a tree, waiting for a moment before continuing, making sure not to make a single sound. Following after you, you did the same, confusion continuing to make your head spin more and more with each passing minute.

After a little while, a clearing suddenly came into view, and Tommy abruptly stopped, holding his arm out to signal for you to do the same. Freezing, you oh-so slowly trailed after him as he ducked behind another tree trunk, peeking out just beyond the dark wood. You squinted your eyes into the dim clearing, trying to pinpoint just what exactly he was being so cautious of.

Your heart dropped.

There, in front of you, stood Wilbur, his back facing you. On the opposite side of the clearing was a masked Dream, a chest lying next to his feet.

He’s doing it, isn’t he? you thought. He’s giving up the TNT. Something inside you cracked. He’s breaking your promise.

You watched as Wilbur took a step forward, and you could hear his crooked smile as he spoke. “How kind of you to join me tonight, Dream.”

Dream didn’t respond, his mask as emotionless as always while his hand remained completely still atop the chest at his side.

Wilbur twisted to the side, waggling his fingers in neurotic excitement as he pointed at the chest. “Oh, is that a present for me? Did you really come all this way just to give me—little ol’ me—a gift?”

Dream patted the chest next to him, taking a few steps back as he spoke coolly. “It sure is.” He leaned forward in a subtle bow, gesturing toward the wooden case. “Why don’t you open it? I’m sure you’ll like what you’ll find.”

Wilbur let out a quiet sequel, skipping over to the chest with a bounce in a step. “Don’t mind if I do.”

You could see a bead of sweat roll down Tommy’s cheek beside you out of the corner of your eye, his cerulean eyes narrowed in what you could describe as pure stress. Wilbur crept up to the box, his gloved fingers slowly unbuckling the front clasp before ripping the top open with glee, only to come face to face with an all too familiar and grave sight.

It was empty.

Wilbur’s blood boiled as a whirlwind of images from the past shot across the back of his eyelids. He whipped his head around, his lips curling into a scowl only to fall away at the sight of Dream holding a stick of dynamite, the tail sparking with an ember.

His eyes widened, and you watched as Dream dropped the stick to the earth.

“You fu—”

The explosion was massive, immediately wracking the air with a deafening boom as ash flew into the air. Wilbur’s arms flung in front of his face, coughing as he covered it from the rising debris. Another explosion followed the first, then another. In an instant, the entire area was fogged over with thick, black smoke, completely obscuring his vision.

You swallowed, your mouth going dry as your gaze hopelessly searched for Dream in the dark.

Just then, a hand tapped on your shoulder.

You whirled with a start, coming face to face with a familiar white mask.

“Dream?” you whispered, your mind still reeling from the shock of everything that had just happened.

Without missing a beat, Tommy shoved you forward, pointing deeper into the woods. “Go, go, go!” he hissed into your ear. “This is your one fucking chance, just get the fuck out!”

You didn’t hesitate to heed his words, stumbling forward as you ran for your life. Adrenaline pumped itself into your veins like a lifeline, overriding your confusion and exhaustion. Behind you, you could hear Dream on your heels as Wilbur let out a roar.

“You bastard, Dream! Where the hell are you?”

You didn’t look back, sprinting with every ounce of energy that you had as the two of you broke out of the forest. Rushing down the hill that stretched before you, you could see Manberg glowing in the dark like a beacon of light just a few hundred feet away. If you made it into view of the Manberg, you would be safe—Wilbur couldn’t set foot there. Between you and safety lay a single river, and you knew exactly what you had to do.

Gritting your teeth, you leapt forward, the cold water splashing around you as you fell in. Another splash followed right after you, and if you weren’t underwater, you would have let out a sigh of relief. You kicked desperately, pushing yourself through the dark waves as you swam to the other side.

It only took a few moments for you to surface again, your hands making contact with the sand. Gasping for breath, you threw yourself onto the beach, your hair sticking to your face. A split second later, Dream was lying next to you, wheezing with laughter.

“That,” he gasped, “was amazing.”

You laughed. Of course that was the first thing he would say after pulling a stunt like that.

You pulled yourself onto your knees, the sand sinking around you and your soaking weight. Something warm brushed over your face, and you tilted your head back. Just in the distance, the sun was beginning to rise. In the sky. You didn’t think you would miss seeing the sky this much.

Framed by the light of dawn spilling over the horizon, Dream got onto one knee before you, tearing his mask off his face with one hand. His emerald eyes—oh, those lovely, emerald eyes—darted across your face, full of worry.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching a wet hand towards your cheek, “why are you crying?”

You blinked in surprise and lifted a hand to your own cheek, only to pull it away to find that it was wet, and not from the river. Oh. You hadn’t realized you were crying. You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off by a choked sob flowing out of your throat. “I-I don’t know,” you admitted honestly. “All I know is that I’m really, really happy right now. Like, beyond happy.”

His touch was soft against your cheek. “I can tell,” he whispered. “It must have been scary.”

You nodded, your watery gaze blurring your vision. “It was—” Your voice cracked. “Wilbur was, and I missed you so much.”

He held your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “You’re okay, I’m okay,” he murmured, his touch as light as a feather. “I’m here with you, now. Nothing can hurt you.”

You hiccupped, leaning your face into his calloused palm as aching relief washed over you. “I—” You swallowed. “How did you even find me? I thought Tommy was on Wilbur’s side.”

Clay smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “He is,” he said softly, “but he also knows when to do the right thing.”

You smiled through your tears, your cheeks practically glowing with joy. You knew he was a good kid, even as demonic as he could be. You couldn’t believe you ever doubted him.

You sat there for a few moments more on the riverbank, taking shaky breaths as Clay murmured sweet nothings in your ear, brushing away every stray tear that ran down your face. As your breathing finally returned to normal, you felt the adrenaline finally fade, a certain fatigue taking its place. You slumped forward, his arms reaching out to catch you midway.

“Clay,” you said softly, your eyelids growing heavy, “I’m tired.”

He smiled down at you, pulling back. “Yeah? Okay.” Slowly, he positioned you upright and turned around, crouching down in front of you. “Here, get on my back.”

Carefully wrapping your arms around his neck, he grabbed onto each of your legs tightly before getting to his feet, hoisting you up onto his back securely. “Better?” he prompted.

You nodded sleepily into his neck, relishing in the warmth of his skin against yours, even if he was also sopping wet. “Mhm.”

A fond smile stretched over his face. “Perfect.” He faced forward, his eyes glimmering in the light of the new dawn.

“Then let’s go home.”

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bigfan-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Spooky Season Special: Until Dawn (Male!Reader x Chris)

Prologue: Bystander

-One Year Ago-

Let's just say, you had been shocked when Beth Washington winked at you and slipped a sparkly envelope into your hand. Hannah had gotten overzealous with the glitter glue again, and it was a wild mess that had held your invitation to Blackwood Pines for the annual winter getaway party weekend hosted by the Washington siblings.

Mike and Emily had grinned when you told them, which was gratifying. To tell the truth, you had never felt like anything more than a satellite to the group. They all seemed so tight with each other, and all you really knew were Mike and Em. Mike because he'd been your best friend since you were toddlers, and Em since she was Mike's girlfriend and you both shared multiple advanced courses. Even despite him being athletic and your typical big man on campus, Mike had been at your side for years, even when your interests diverged. You even helped make posters for his class president campaign in your spare time, which he joked made you responsible for his victory.

But still, you never really considered yourself part of that group until Beth handed you the invitation. You had only really hung out with the group on occasion, but you knew what it was really about.

Damn Mike. He had told Beth about your crush on Chris. He or Emily had. And now they were going to play matchmaker. You weren't about to let that happen, but you figured this was your ticket to making more friends and hanging out with Mike more. ...And Chris.

And really, partying with the Washingtons was fun. Who gets to go up to a HUGE lodge in the mountains only accessible by cable car? Even the vaguely sinister sensation of being trapped couldn't undo your feeling that you were now part of an exclusive gang. You ended up on the cable car with Ashley and Sam, who immediately drew you into a conversation (Sam protested playfully when Ashley turned the conversation to a book she was reading about ghosts) and the fun began.

There was the requisite teasing of Sam as she went upstairs to take a luxurious bath in the Washingtons' simply enormous tub in the master bathroom ("Try not to use all the hot water this time, Sam!" from Beth and a "Hardy-har" from Sam as a retort.)

It started out simple enough. Hannah and Matt brought down some board games from a closet and you all began playing. At one point someone suggested Jenga and everyone held their breath as you watched the tower wobble...

Don't Move. .. . .. . .. . .. .... .. ..... ... .. .... .. .. .. .... .. . . . .

...and you finally breathed again when it was certain the tower wouldn't collapse. And then, of course, Josh and Chris arrived on Emily's turn, and she promptly knocked over the wooden blocks. She complained a little, but clearly was happy the group was all together.

Chris and Josh promptly forced open the liquor cabinet and led a toast to old friends, and lifted a glass to you and added "and to new friends!" Beth, ever-responsible, gave a disapproving look at her older brother and passed around cream sodas instead. But really, only you, Sam, and Beth chose to remain sober. Chris and Josh started a drinking game by singing the Pokerap from the Pokemon anime and drinking whenever they got the words wrong, and quickly started devolving into drunken messes. Mike and Emily started making out, and Sam was catching up with Ashley and Matt - Jessica was talking to Hannah.

Beth invited you up to her room to watch Pride and Prejudice on the new TV she had gotten in there, but really, it was just a pretext. You knew it the moment the movie started playing and Beth looked over at you. "So... Chris, huh?"

Secretive - "What about him?" Exasperated - "Ugh, Mike told you?"

Beth grinned apologetically. "Emily, actually. But don't worry, I won't blab. I think it's cute. And hey, I'm here for you."

You smiled a little. It might actually be good to have more friends you can talk to about this. When you told Mike you liked boys, and that you liked Chis, he had teased you about having a hunk of prime beef in front of you - himself - and you chose the nerd anyway. Beth, at least, seemed less likely to ridicule you.

"It doesn't matter, though." you had groaned. "He's got a crush on Ashley."

"So?" Beth asked. "Josh once had a crush on Britney Spears at the same time he discovered Leo DiCaprio. People can have multiple crushes. And I'm pretty sure Chris doesn't just like you because you can beat him at Street Fighter."

"Fine, you may have a point. But I'm not gonna make any moves tonight! Looks like Chris is on a one-way trip to Hangover City."

She smiled wryly. "Ugh. Guess I have to make hangover cures in the morning. If you and Sam are the only other sober ones, wanna help? We can make vegan pancakes just the three of us!"

You grinned. "That actually sounds really fun."

"Great!"

You watched the rest of the movie, and finally decided it was time to check on the others, realizing you hadn't heard much during your little party.

"Guys?" Beth called, a little confused when no one answered. The two of you wandered down, only to find Chris and Josh, slumped over the kitchen island, a few empty bottles of liquor between them. Beth gave a chuckle that became a sigh. You remember this part so much more clearly.

Beth looked out the window, and frowned. "There's someone out there! I thought Mom and Dad said it would be just us this weekend."

"Maybe it's the trees? They're pretty creepy at night." you suggested, not wanting the creepy idea of someone else being on the mountain to take root.

She looked away, unsure, then glanced at the bottles.

"Ugh... Once again, big brother, you've outdone us all." Beth said, her eyes roving over the bottle-covered table. She picked up a piece of paper and read it, wincing. "This is - what has my naïve sister gotten herself into now?"

You take the paper, only really having time to read the words "Hannah" and "Mike xoxo" before someone went running by, sobbing. Beth went charging after them...

Wake Chris Follow Beth

...but you quickly tried shoving Chris to wake him up. But even with you yelling in his ear, he was dead to the world. You ran out after Beth, only to run right into Matt's back.

"You know, Mike, I think you're the last person she wants to see right now." Sam was saying.

"What the hell is going on?" you asked, looking from face to face. Emily disgusted, Sam worried, Mike and Jessica looking uneasy... "Where's Beth? And Hannah?"

"Hannah overreacted to this prank we pulled," Ashley frowned. "And Beth ran after her."

"What do you think, Y/N? Should we go looking for them?" Mike wondered.

Concerned - "Beth said someone else was out there..." Responsible - "We should get help..."

"They say you really shouldn't split up in a snowstorm. Beth's smart. I'm sure she'll bring Hannah back. But just in case, let's call the ranger station?" you said. You remember the group all nodding, more at ease now that there was a plan. Emily went to call, while Mike and Matt tried to wake up Chris and Josh, and you tried to get what happened out of Jessica and Ashley, because Sam refused to talk to any of them.

A horrible prank... and two deaths. For a whole year, the idea that maybe, if you had made some other choice, you could have prevented it, consumed you. Maybe if you had chased after Hannah more quickly you could've stopped her, or maybe at least convinced Beth not to run and to call the ranger station instead... maybe at least one of the twins would still be alive.

Things only got worse after the trip. You thought it might bring you more friends, but the group fractured down the middle. Eventually Em and Mike broke up, making it really awkward to choose between them. Sam had distanced herself from the others, angry at them for the prank, and you hadn't heard from her for months. And Chris... you two had gotten a little closer, but really this tragedy had struck all of you and changed everything.

You hadn't known Josh that well, so it was surprising that he asked you to come back up to the lodge. And although it might be weird, definitely uncomfortable... you find yourself on a bus, headed right back up to Mount Washington.

With no idea of what the night will hold...

#until dawn #until dawn x reader #chris hartley x reader #chris hartley x male reader #until dawn fic

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ageof9thhouse · 4 years

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Signs in the Eighth House

Just as the number 8, the 8th house is where one’s karma lies. In the broader sense, this karma could be anything, hence the reason for this house to be called “mysterious”. It is not exactly known to the person where their karma comes from or where it is going. Since it is the opposite of the 2nd house, where one’s parents’ love and care for each other is specified, the 8th house symbolises the trigger point which caused that love or relationship in general. Meaning, the sexual and the passionate energy. The 2nd house is the comfort zone of people and the relationship with the tangible environment. Meanwhile the 8th house is the psychology, the relationships between the heart and soul and the karma carried out through the parents. The planet Pluto is the ruler of this house. Pluto, in Greek Mythology, is known as the God of the Underworld, Hades. Hades was the first son of Kronos and the first to be swallowed by him. Together with his siblings they banished their father and with Zeus and Poseidon, they drew lots to see who would rule each realm… Hades got the underworld fittingly as his name means “the unseen one”. He was also known as the God of wealth because all the precious metals buried deep in the earth were in his kingdom. Hades is the ruler of the dead but he isn’t death itself. Thus, while he “drinks tears like wine” he does not kill anyone. He is simply the host of the dead and the torubled souls. His realm is a place of freedom from the pain of the world and his Queen, Persephone offers rebirth and a blessed afterlife. But we all know that he kidnapped her even though she fell in love with him later on (a case of Stockholm Syndrome). Hades, even though one of the more humble of the Gods when he wanted something he made sure he got it. Together with his queen they represent life and death and the cycles of nature —and the 8th house represents the transformations we are bound to go through no matter how painful. In the end we rise from the ashes better and richer (soul-wise) than ever. Self-mastery involves shadow work with your lower drives. If you fail to master this energy, it will master you. In other words, the unconscious will run your life from behind the scenes and work itself out through fate. This often manifests as obsessions and compulsions and events over which you have no conscious control which can be seen in one’s 8th house.

♈︎Aries / Mars in the 8th House:

Aries/Mars here is in his big brother’s house so he does not feel too unwelcome here maybe feels a little clumsy not knowing how to deal with such power all of a sudden. The person with this placement is ever seeking ways of personal transformation. Starting with new projects or just anything new is their superpower. However, not being able to finish those passion projects is the cost of this power. When accepting the fact that chaos is inevitable and control is an illusion the person confronts their inner demons, only then the transformation really happens. Either one of the parents might have Aries in their charts (rising or sun). The karma coming from the parents is for the person to become fearless in the face of the new and taking the lead. After a psychological breakdown, the person is completely anew and fearless to start from fresh. Vengeance though can become the main drive and that is when the person needs to be careful. People with this aspect might attract a lot of Aries or Mars energies into their lives - from these energies, a karmic bond is established good or bad. Obsessions might include proving oneself to be the best at something and forcing other people to do whatever they think is the right thing. When they master the need to be always in control they are able to manifest good things into their lives.

♉︎Taurus / Venus (Day Chart) in the 8th House:

When the opposites fill the other one’s place it puts it out of balance. One’s mission is to maintain the peace which that balance is lacking. Taurus/Venus (Day) in a person’s 8th house may indicate that the superpower of this person is to make others feel comfortable and laid back. They put others at ease. The cost for this power is that the chart owners themselves feel uneasy and disturbed by outside interference constantly. This karma can only be eased down once the person starts to value and secure themselves. People-pleasing is something they are good at but not something that they necessarily should be doing. Since there is no sense of feeling secure or comfortable coming from within these people may obsess over material things in order to feed their starving subconscious. The more these people value things outside of their own being, the more backlash they receive from their inner selves. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to fall truly in love with themselves and care for their own well-being. Maybe as a child, they did not feel worthy of their parents. Perhaps one of the parents had Taurus in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element and they might also attract a lot of Taurus energy into their relationships - from these energies a karmic bond is established good or bad. However, overdoing this self-love once it is achieved obviously will have its consequences. Laziness and over-indulgence in the good things life has to offer will bite them back later on. When they find a balance between keeping their own peace meanwhile putting others' minds at ease as well, they will master the power of serenity.

♊︎Gemini / Mercury in the 8th House:

With this placement, there is this feeling of the “magician” going back to the tarot cards. A master manifestor once the person appreciates the duality within. In Buddhism, this is called “shunyata” the emptiness of inner and outer dharmas. Nothing can exist without everything else also existing. People with this placement must understand that we exist within a web of relationships and once it is well understood one must not misuse this power otherwise the consequences are hard to overcome. These people are blessed with powerful thoughts but depending on the intention set out through these thoughts their own manifestations can get the best of them. A great deal of cleansing of the subconscious is required for this placement since Mercury is a trickster who loves to challenge its subjects just for the sake of it. There are great power and karma carried through one’s words. These people can have an immense effect on other people’s subconscious as well. Through the exchange of thoughts, they blend with other people and if they did not master this power of theirs they can get lost in those people’s minds. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to watch out what kind of intention they put out to the universe through their interaction with other people. Perhaps one of the parents had Gemini in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element. People with this placement might also attract a lot of Mercury energy into their relationships - from these energies, a karmic bond is established good or bad. These people also gotta be careful about obsessive thought patterns and delving too deep into the matters. The thing they are most passionate about is certainly understanding the unknown but some things are just simply beyond our comprehension

♋︎Cancer / Moon in the 8th House:

Moon is our mother, sense of security and our ancestors. There is a great deal of karma coming from the person’s past. They are deeply connected to it and they are very curious about it as well. Their power is to build such strong connections with people and giving them their sincerity. The cost of this gift though is the fact that most people they give this nurturing energy to might have had banished them in their life before. There is a great fear of abandonment coming from being too attached to people since they have had been left behind before (perhaps by the mother herself). These people might find the solution in never attaching to people ever again but in fact they must build a strong intuition in order to allow the right people in their lives. Otherwise, a sinister feeling inside will sprout because they do not feel the same warmth coming from other people that they think they themselves expose. Forgiveness is a big theme here. They have to learn to forgive the past and not devolve too much into it. Compassion will be their best friend when it comes to fighting off their inner demons which especially come up when they feel the most vulnerable. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to not treat their emotions as if they are burdens and learn to forgive their past troubles and maybe even the parents themselves. These people should learn to not to obsess over the past. Perhaps one of the parents had Cancer in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element. People with this placement might also attract a lot of Cancerian energy into their relationships - from these energies, a karmic bond is established good or bad.

♌︎Leo / Sun in the 8th House:

When Apollo comes to give light to a house that wants to stay in the dark, tensions are high. These people may want to keep their own self identity under shadows. Something significant may have had appeared in their childhood which caused the child to grow too soon and as an adult now the child within is suppressed down to the subconscious. Their own psychology is a matter these people are highly interested in understanding. They like to put light on things that are hidden from them even when they are not ready to see things as clearly as they are. They like to think of themselves as strong people who can handle any psychological or emotional burden which they are and it is their power but they tend to push things too far to the point of they can no longer handle the load. They have got to learn to let other people in so that they can ease the heaviness of their own emotional baggage. Once they let the child within to come out and play they are bestowed with very strong creativity and positivity. Free self-expression will be their escape from their own darker demons and allowing themselves to play. These people are obsessed with other people’s talents and the way they carry themselves - but once they let go of their control on emotions and let their joy run free, they will see themselves become just that. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to take care of the child within. Maybe the parents were not the best at allowing the kids to be kids and asked too much of them hence they had to grow up way too early. Perhaps one of the parents had Leo in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element. People with this placement might also attract a lot of Leo energy into their relationships - from these energies a karmic bond is established good or bad.

♍︎Virgo / Ceres in the 8th House:

Deep within, there is a lot of anxious energy haunting the person of the chart which strives to be recognized. They tend to over-analyze everything that is happening but will most likely keep this to themselves since they do not like to be viewed “concerned” by other people. They are obsessed with solving problems to the point of disturbance in their own psychology. They have immense powers of healing and finding solutions but the cost of this power is an out of control feeling of being uneasy or unsafe. Through meditation and being open to spiritual matters they can ease this feeling but these are highly skeptical and practical people. They tend to stay in their own way of their journey to mindfulness. They are fascinated by other people’s concerns and problems that they tend to forget their own which only makes their personal matters worst. They have great karma when it comes to dealings of allowing things to be and not interfering with them. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to take care of their own well being and consciousness. Perhaps, as a child, they weren’t properly taken care of by their parents and the roles were reversed in a way. They wanted to fix or heal their parents their whole life but maybe did not get the chance to do that so they are passionate about doing this for other people. One of the parents might have Virgo as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Virgo energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons.

♎︎Libra / Venus (Night Chart) in the 8th House:

People with this placement have got a lot of subtle but potent influence on other people through one on one interactions. They have the power of attracting anyone into their lives and easing their emotional burdens as well. The cost of this superpower though is that if they are not careful with their intentions about the core reason why they want to have an influence on this particular person they might take on their bad karma as their own and obviously no one wants that. Each relationship transforms the person for the better but sometimes the worst. They might feel an intense bond with almost everybody in their lives and this will take a toll on them psychologically. They are also likely to have people obsess over them to point of claiming ownership over them. And another theme with an obsession with these people is that they themselves might obsess over being liked by everyone. They are passionate about peace and harmony and are willing to do anything in order to maintain it even if it means sacrificing one’s free will. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to practice and teach good manners and bring harmony into relationships. Perhaps, the parents were in an inharmonious relationship in which the two fought a lot without ever trying to bring peace into the situation between them. One of the parents might have Libra as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Venusian energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons.

♏︎Scorpio / Pluto in the 8th House:

The lord of the underworld here is in his full power and in the comfort of his home he is not willing to hold anything back. Scorpio is in search of emotional power and the mysteries of life and death. This cycle between the two is neither good or bad, - it’s the part of nature that demands change and evolution. And the biggest thing with Hades’s character is that no matter what you cannot negotiate with him. The biggest karmic lesson with this placement is to surrender. These people’s power is about using their soul’s energy to transform the self through a confrontation with the powers of the unconscious. The goal is to overcome death and dissolution and avoid falling back into chaos and unconsciousness. Not the easiest of the tasks but the rewards are definitely worth it as Hades is also the Lord of the riches. To enter the darkness and heal the split in your psyche – the wound at the heart of being human – the pain of being conscious is the lesson one taken over from their parents. Perhaps, the parents were in denial of their subconscious’ scream for help and kept their demons hidden away which only caused them to go down a road of spiral. One of the parents might have Scorpio as their sun or rising sign and the chart owners tens to attract a lot of Scorpio energy into their relationships for them to learn their karmic lessons.

♐︎Sagittarius / Jupiter in the 8th House:

The nature of Sagittarius is to be free and in this placement that is the request from the chart owner’s psychology. These are very passionate people who are the rulers of their own territories. They have the gift to find their way to enlightenment and higher knowledge of the truth once they open up their horizons. The biggest karma for them is that it is hard for them to open their minds to things but once they do they are ready to be fired into the future. They are obsessed with the idea of living life to its fullest but there is a tendency to overdo it. Too much of the unrealistic optimism results in facing the harsh reality of the world which leads them to a dark place where they feel trapped within their own minds. They tend to curse their own fate and shun the universe whenever their high expectations are not met. They have to come in peace with the reality of being human in an imperfect world. But the pain of the wound creates wisdom if they can accept and work with it. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to discover the truth of a human’s immortal soul that releases us from the wheel of birth and death – the quest for enlightenment. Perhaps the chart owner comes from a lineage of teachers who couldn’t finish this task. One of the parents might have Sagittarius as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Sagittarius energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons. For them to free themselves from their emotional burdens they need to open their minds up and accept the good and the bad universe has to offer and offer help to others to learn their lessons.

♑︎Capricorn / Saturn in the 8th House:

When the sign of harsh lessons and the house of karmic lessons unite their powers the person with the placement meant to go through a lot but in the end, they come out of this struggle of perfecting a human as a dextrous being. The native goes through a lot of challenges which require self-mastery. They crumble down to the ground and build themselves up again, each time they end up more solid and wise. The person is bestowed with great wisdom beyond their years but the universe always demands them to renew themselves so their lives and self-identity suffer from reoccurring earthquakes. They are obsessed with being the best at everything they can and in the meantime influencing other people. They might be especially obsessed with impressing their father and their own father might be their biggest competition in some extreme cases their enemy. In Greek mythology, Capricorn is the Father Time, Kronos… The one who swallowed Hades (and the rest of his children) only to be overthrown by them in the end as it was predicted. The biggest lesson for this person is that they cannot change the outcome but they are sure to be changed by the outcome. The karma these people had inherited from their parents is that the old way of things must be periodically overthrown so that life can be renewed. Perhaps the owner of the chart had parents who were too controlling and stuck in the same cycles and it is up to them to break this cycle so that progression can happen. Meanwhile, they have got to learn to build a solid structure for them so that they will not be damaged when their world is shaken up as it is their karma. One of the parents might have Capricorn as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Capricorn energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons.

♒︎Aquarius / Uranus in the 8th House:

People with this placement are passionate about feeling united with other people. They tend to attract a lot of friends into their lives and they themselves are very understanding friends but the cost of this is that in order to keep their social circle they tend to either conform to their needs. In order to feel like a part of the group, they know exactly what to do but this also means they often step out of their way to become a part of it. Their biggest fear being, feeling unaccepted they are very accepting of other people and when they work on their people skills these people are very good at influencing others. They are humanists with morals. Their karma will work against them when they deliberately deny these morals in order to please others. The karma they inherited from their parents is to increase in moral consciousness in other people as well as themselves of course. Perhaps the parents were oblivious to other peoples’ issues. One of the parents may have had Aquarius as their sun or rising but was not able to manage its aim of uniting the people and recognizing that all beings are interconnected. With this comes a great deal of empathy with others comes into play. The person has to learn to control this nature of an empath for it is hard for them to distinguish their own emotions and thoughts from the rest.

♓︎Pisces / Neptune in the 8th House:

People who have this placement tend to underestimate the power of their psyche and subconscious in their everyday life. If the mind is in a good state they have the power to manifest good things into their life, if it is in a bad state though, they bring hell down to earth for themselves. The universe asks of them to be conscious of their subconscious, joining of two worlds: the divine and the human. These people are creative in nature and have to take care of their inner world instead of running from it. With a power of great manifestations comes great responsibility for one’s soul journey. As the Pisces energy can be creative and imaginative, as well as dark and destructive. Lurking in the unconscious, always threatening to overwhelm the ordered structures of life. Being this close to the abyss would make anybody nervous and we all know Pisces often tries to avoid a confrontation. But the thing is the forces of the unconscious are usually only dangerous when they’re repressed or denied. And this is the karma the chart owner inherited from their parents who might have Pisces as their sun or rising but could not deal with the Piscean nature, hence it is now both the blessing and the curse (if it is not dealt with careful) of the child. The Pisces fish are a symbol of spiritual liberation, they show the happiness and freedom of the soul swimming in the waters of nirvana. There’s no need to struggle or swim against the tide. People with this placement tend to attract a lot of Piscean energies into their lives to learn and teach karmic lessons.

(Art: “Ixion Thrown into Hades” by Jules-Élie Delaunay)

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girl4music · 3 years

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Early in Willow and Tara's relationship, (before it became romantic I mean), Willow asks Tara to conjure the goddess Thespia with her to locate demonic energy in the area. And I feel as if Tara didn't want to do it but she didn't want to say no to Willow having just met her and wanting the friendship between them to continue. To have the chance to possibly become something more than friendship. She didn't want Willow to think she was uncool. It was pere pressure but in such a way where Willow wasn't aware of it. And because of the more advanced magic Willow wanted to do, Tara was constantly on edge with her. But again, she knew she liked her as more than a friend and wanted whatever it was between them to keep going. So she said yes every time even if she didn't want to do it.

Later on, when they're in a fully committed romantic relationship, Tara started saying no to Willow with messing with spells and magic that was dangerous and could potentially hurt someone, if not them. She gained a sense of confidence and security when she realized that Willow didn't want to be without her. And for me, despite this being a very well written relationship, it does feel sort of dependent in some ways, and therefore unhealthy. Which is in stark contrast to Willow and Kennedy, who just didn't have any chemistry whatsoever. There was no need for each other in that way.

Willow gained confidence and security in herself, sure. But she was always dependent on someone or something else to fill the void. Whether it be a lover or just a friend. Or the vice of the Magicks. She was never quite... well... fulfilled on her own or satisfied without something much more powerful to keep her interest. Whereas Tara - Tara gained confidence and security and grew to be her own person with which she could seperate herself from Willow and not lose that confidence or security. In which she could have power without being reliant on it. And it's funny how Tara is depicted as the shy and weak one in the relationship when it's Willow that needs someone else's approval all the damn time and is weak without it. I think Joss Whedon initially wanted Tara to be like the "new Willow" in the sense that Willow would bring her out of her shell the same way Buffy, Oz and the all the Scoobies brought Willow out of her shell. But it backfired as far as I'm concerned because while Tara was brought out of her shell by Willow and the Scooby Gang, the underlying issue was that Willow was too dependent on her and eventually on witchcraft too. So it happened to be that Tara became the stronger and more self-sufficient one of the couple and not Willow. Willow only APPEARED that secure. But it was just an act.

So that's a very interesting dynamic. Different. I'm not sure it was intended but it worked to tell a greater story of Willow's addiction to witchcraft. The fact of the matter is Willow always needed someone or something to rely on to make up for their extreme insecurities and all the internalized trauma of their past. Willow was actually the wallflower that was wilting with every episode. You just don't see it that way. You see the opposite because the character wants you to see the opposite. And for all the confidence they gain in themselves... you just get a vibe of something really seriously wrong with this character. You don't see it but you feel it. There's something not quite right with her and you get that vibe as early on as season 3 when they're just starting to experiment with the Magicks and how that slowly spirals into something much more serious and sinister. It's an incredible shows-long arc. One you don't really notice until you need to.

And I think Tara represented something much more important than a romantic relationship for Willow. They were the moral compass for her. At least they were when they were able to say no and not enable Willow's addiction. When it's written well, a romantic relationship between two characters can provide so much more than just love. And that's the type of romance I look for in art/entertainment. Because I'm wanting something deeper than dependency on love. So many TV shows get it fucking wrong. It only ever shows the characters confident, strong and secure because of each other. As if the only reason they evolve/devolve is because of the relationship they are in or break up from. When there's always something more going on with the characters individually.

Basic scenario for the typical TV romance: "This person is a better/worse person because they fell in/out of love with this person."

That's not realistic. Not even in the slightest. This is why I don't care for much romance art/entertainment. Because it is that fucking shallow 99% of the time. And all I'm saying is that there is a lot of dependency in Willow and Tara's romantic relationship. But it's written so well as to make it clear enough that it's NOT JUST BECAUSE they are in a romantic relationship. There's a lot more going on. And yeah, at first, it's subtle, it's subtextual, it's subliminal. But you get this vibe very early on with the character Willow that they were never going to be in a completely healthy romantic relationship because of their underlying issues and insecurities. And it's written so cleverly to make it seem as if they're growing, becoming more confident and secure in who they are, stepping into their authenticity with each episode. But that's absolutely not the truth of the matter at all. If anything - they get worse with that. And in the end, it just goes to show you how fucking well depression and mental illness can be hidden. Because you don't see it. You only see what the character wants you to see. However, you can feel it if you pay enough attention intuitively to the character's development. It truly ends up being that Tara is the one that is much more confident, secure, self-sufficient and independent. And it's brillaint how all of that is written. With foreshadowing and deja vu and all that wonderful synchroncity shit. It requires very very good writers as well as very very good actors that know their characters extremely well. Most people think acting is just about conveying what's there. But it's also about conveying what's not there too. It's what's missing that tells you so much more about a character and who they really are underneath all that isn't.

And once again - I have to say it.

90's shows just got it spot on.

It ended up being that because there was so much more to the characters individually, there was also so much more to the characters as a couple too. And romance or friendship isn't so shallow or empty when they first deal with the individual storylines. Yes, characters do evolve/devolve because of the relationships they are in. That's a given. It's just not the ONLY reason why they do. And that's what's wrong with so much of it in TV today. It lacks chemistry depth because it lacks individual character development. That's why Willow and Kennedy failed.

#buffy the vampire slayer #willow rosenberg #tara mclay #kennedy #character development #an analysis #different perspective

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

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Weird q..but i really dont understand why most fans hate season 4, especially the last episode. Why? I think it gave us a deeper look on both sherlock and mycroft! I felt it tells a lot about mycroft how he had to step in and take control of things ever since he was a kid himself. Also he is not a robot or a killer. Also redbeard thing. It was an appropriate deep psychological trauma (cause most shows usually disappoint in that area). I am not trying to impose my opinion. Just want to understand

Hey Nonny!

It’s all good, and I totally respect your opinion and how you enjoyed S4! It’s totally okay! I know that there are quite a few who got a lot of of S4, and who genuinely enjoyed it.

Sadly, I am not one of those people, and I’ll try to be as diplomatic a possible in my response, but PLEASE know that I don’t think you’re “terrible” or “stupid” for liking S4 because I DO get passionate sometimes in my responses, and I’m just merely speaking as someone who studied the series very closely for quite a long time before S4 aired, and as someone who knows Day-One-ers (ie., people who watched Sherlock on its day one airdate) who also are a large majority of the people who did not like S4. This is just me simply stating why I didn’t like it, but it’s different for everyone.

Stating what I DO like: The acting and cinematography of the first two episodes were brilliant for what they had to work with, and I’ve never faulted any of the actors for the flaws of S4. And for TFP, they did the best with what they had to work with.

That’s… pretty much all I really liked about S4.

Now, here’s my problems with S4:

Nothing made a LICK of sense to the narrative that they were telling in Seasons prior.

This series was always based a bit in reality, and suddenly everything became comic-book rules: X-Men villains, shitty “redemption” arc, destroying favourite characters just for drama, ludicrous physics, explosions that only destroyed one small room in an apt where in previous episodes one explosion destroyed an entire block, etc.

Sherlock was OOC.

Mary was being built up to be a fantastic villain? Ah, nope, here’s the lacklustre twist where tee hee Mary’s just an assassin with a heart of gold that still emotionally abuses Sherlock and John and just won’t fucking stay dead.

And speaking of this, the DVD’s make NO LOGICAL SENSE unless she was planning to kill herself

AND she tries to make her death equatable to Sherlock’s??

Everyone was RIDICULOUSLY out of character in TFP, I’m so sorry: Mycroft is a bumbling coward for the most part, Sherlock disregards John when he gives the Vatican Cameos warning, the Holmes Parents are assholes because Mycroft COULDN’T SOLVE A PROBLEM WHEN HE WAS 12?? ARE YOU SERIOUS???? And that creepy Moriarty / Eurus thing, and LITERALLY they’re implying that EVERYTHING HAPPENED BECAUSE EURUS DIDN’T GET A HUG. Like, I’m so sorry, but that’s lazy writing.

And don’t even get me started on the ridiculousness of the entire character of Eurus. She LITERALLY had X-Men powers, and like… just nothing made sense. Her involvement in the entirety of S4 MADE NO SENSE. Why go back to prison if you can get out?? WHAT IS THE POINT?? AND I repeat: She did all this because she didn’t get a hug. Yes. I’m oversimplifying, but at the base level, that’s what it was, because she wanted Sherlock’s attention. Welcome to the club, kid, stand in line, everyone on the SHOW wants his attention.

The ENTIRE plot of the first 2 seasons got wiped out all because it wasn’t Moriarty who was interested in Sherlock, but Eurus?? What… What about Carl Powers?? Like…. the ENTIRETY of season one and TGG makes no sense now, because of that one 5 minute scene where Eurus “enlists” Moriarty. I… ugh.

The SUDDEN tonal switch from kind-of Sherlock to James Bond, for some fucking reason.

And on that note, how terribly lazy and cheap TFP looks in comparison to the other two episodes. The whole episode looks like it was filmed in a small house with 4 identical rooms.

EVERYTHING that was etablished in 2 episodes prior were COMPLETELY forgotten when Mary was “shot”.

The complete character assassination of one loyal blogger John H Watson in favour of Mary for some fucked up reason, even though AT HIS OWN WEDDING HE COULDN’T STAND BEING AROUND MARY. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe for one damned second that John would EVER forgive Mary for murdering his best friend after seeing what it did to him. That’s not love from her, and that’s NOT John’s character EVER in the ENTIRETY of the series.

And speaking of character assassinations, Molly’s character being devolved to S1E1 Molly, where instead of giving her agency like they were doing with her the ENTIRE series, so much so that Sherlock picked up on her dominance enough to give her a big role in his mind palace in HLV and TAB, only to make her a sad little self-insert Mary Sue pining for the main character, and in turn made Sherlock a TERRIBLE human being for MAKING HER say what she did. It’s gross.

AND speaking of Molly’s character, they’ve been setting up Mollstrade since as early as ASiB, but I guess that plot line got shafted. Look I LOVE Hopkins, and I am ANGRY they didn’t give her more than 3 fucking lines in the entirety of ONE episode after HEAVILY promoting her actress and character, but they essentially reduced her to a piece of ass for Lestrade to chase. AND THAT’S NOT HIS CHARACTER EITHER. EW GROSS.

The constant plot holes being gaped wide open, and the Chekov’s gun moments where they bring up shit but do nothing with it!!

TD-12? Nope, just a lame reference to a story we like.

John got shot at the end of TLD with a VERY REAL FUCKING GUN? Nope, it was a dart gun.

John not suddenly knowing how to be a doctor.

The TGG one I mentioned up above.

What was in the letter? And who was Anyone??

Moriarty essentially being erased as anything other than a hired thug and had no part whatsoever in Sherlock’s history.

Eurus… Just all of her character is asinine.

Everyone in T6T suddenly not knowing John’s the blogger, which is in direct contradiction to literally the entire series.

The AGRA plotline was ridiculous, in the end.

Baby? What baby? It was only there when convenient.

They dropped whatever plotline they were going to do for Mycroft: He was being set up as either dying, or the villain.

Redbeard. I’m sorry, I disagree with you on that. Mofftiss is trying to tell me that a little boy fell down a well and went missing, and that WASN’T the first place searchers / the police wouldn’t have looked? Sorry, no. And then. AND THEN his parents just… go along with this thing where Sherlock shuts down and they DON’T get him therapy? Yes, I agree the mind is a funny thing, and we can be traumatised into forgetting or dissociating from traumatic events. I GET IT. But… like I don’t believe the Holmes are so heartless as to just never grieve or have memories around about their supposedly dead daughter. It’s another OCC thing for me.

John’s cheating.

Disappearing and reappearing characters, like this scene, and the entirety of the aquarium scene.

Mary and John being terrible parents

OH GOD THIS FUCKING SCENE. That bomb SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED THE ENTIRE BUILDING.

What… who was this girl on the plane? What? Like I know WHO, but if she’s supposed to be Eurus talking to Sherlock, why don’t we see Eurus… talking to Sherlock? I … Ugh.

NORBURY.

The glass SUPER SECRET GOVERNMENT ROOM THAT NO ONE SHOULD SEE INTO in T6T.

Sloppy camera work that some believe was intentional, but if it wasn’t, jesus c’mon.

The RIDICULOUS amount of 4th Wall Breaking. Like… even the actors didn’t give a shit.

Essentially, everything on this list here and in this blog tag here.

And everything mentioned on these three posts:

T6T: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night

TLD: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night

TFP: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night

There’s SO much more I can go into, but please go through my “something’s fucky” tag in that last link.

Notice how probably 90% of that has NOTHING to do with “johnlock not becoming canon” because the Johnlockers get MONSTROUS accusations as to THAT being why we didn’t like S4, even though it was, like critically panned by the GENERAL AUDIENCE who have NO investment in the series other than “I liked it in the past”.

Two of my fave YouTubers have interesting (not perfect, but still good) takes coming at the series as casual viewers:

‘The Day Sherlock Died’ by The Closer Look

‘Sherlock is Garbage, and Here’s Why’ by hbomberguy

So it’s NOT just Johnlockers. I’ve talked to Sher1011ies at 221B con who didn’t like S4 either, because most of them realized how shitty Molly was treated in the last episode. So yeah, a big middle finger to those who think I dislike S4 because of “no Johnlock”. No, I disliked it because I need my stories to make logical narrative sense. I disliked it because I love John and they ruined his character all for the sake of drama and because Moffat has a “hurting Ben” kink. I disliked it because Mary should NOT have been “redeemed” because she was an abuser. I disliked it because Moriarty was turned into a cartoon villain, even though he was already overused in the series. I disliked it because the core of the show – the FRIENDSHIP of Sherlock and John, and their solving mysteries together – did not exist at all. I disliked it because John got sidelined. I disliked it because TFP was a ridiculous episode that, if you replace ANY of the characters, it wouldn’t make a difference, because it didn’t feel like an episode of Sherlock. I disliked it because everyone was OOC.

Anyway. Sorry. One too many accusations my way over the past 1100+ days LOL.

As for your assessment of TFP, I’m going to have to respectfully disagree with you. There was no growth and actually it implies something far more sinister: That the Holmes are and were terrible parents that gave no shits about their daughter, their traumatized son, and expected their eldest to essentially be a parent. It implies that Mycroft, at 12 years old, orchestrated the ENTIRE Sherrinford thing… Look I can suspend my disbelief, but there’s limits, and this is one of them. A LITERAL CHILD. Perhaps Uncle Rudy had a hand in it somehow, but then why not shit on Uncle Rudy? Why is Mycroft blamed for it all?

Look, I don’t doubt Sherlock had a traumatic experience regarding “Redbeard”. But then why play into the fact that he was a dog? Why bring another character into the series just to have a gotcha moment? Because Mofftiss wanted a “Shyamalan twist”, that’s why. They threw EVERYTHING away for a twist ending either because they GENUINELY thought it was good, or they got tired of doing Sherlock. ALL of TFP is LITERALLY a really bad plot twist because reasons. TFP makes no sense to the ENTIRE narrative structure of the previous 12 episodes. It erased EVERYTHING from the previous episodes, and coated it with a gross closing by a character no one wanted in the series, and then tried to convince us that it’s a new beginning – “a journey they had to go through” – but it SOLVED NOTHING.

Anyway. I have big feels about S4, and the only way I can enjoy it is to watch it subtextually, but even then, I cannot sit through TFP without cringing.

That said, Lovelies, please do not attack Nonny for enjoying S4! I know you guys won’t, but Nonny came out with an olive branch and they just want to understand why the fandom is passionate about S4′s… whatever it was. We can have a civil discussion about it, and point out – without attacking – why S4 is universally panned. It’s okay to like things no one else does, and Nonny was respectful to me in this ask!

So with that, feel free, lovelies, to express why YOU didn’t enjoy the series, or why you did! I’m interested in both “sides” / pov’s whatever :)

#steph replies #long post #sherlock s4 #s4 shitposting #mofftiss #something's fucky #the mary problem #my thoughts #my meta #shitposting steph #sorry gang if you like the season #it's easier for me to enjoy it if i tinhat

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jokerfan99 · 3 years

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My Top 10 Favorite Anime Villainesses by DarkChild316

Evil has never looked this good! Hello everyone and welcome to my list of my FAVORITE, not the best, but my favorite anime villainesses of all-time. So, I've had the luxury of watching and revisiting a lot of anime recently with everything that's been going on, and there’s been quite a few villainous ladies that have caught my eye, so I figured I should give it a go and do a list of My Favorite Anime Villainesses. So, with that said, here's my list:

#10. Diva (Blood+): This was one of the first anime I remember watching as a young kid, and this lovely lady easily caught my eye more than anyone else in the entire show. I can honestly say that I felt that Diva was more relatable than her sister Saya was (my opinion people, just saying) mostly due to her backstory and how she was kept locked away for most of her life while Saya was treated like a princess. I will admit that her rape and murder of Riku was shocking and it did piss me off a bit, but she ultimately won me over again with her treatment of her unborn children at the end when I got to see the caring side of her that I hadn't seen from her towards anyone else, including her own Chevaliers. Ultimately, Diva is one of my favorite tragic villains of all-time.

#9. Mugino Shizuri (A Certain Magical Index): Don't let the beautiful supermodel looks and gorgeous frame of this buxom beauty fool you. Mugino Shizuri is a woman who's looks are only matched by her ability to physically melt people's heads off. Add to that the fact that she's a total basket case who slowly devolved into a cold-blooded murderer who was willing to kill her own ITEM teammates for even the slightest betrayal, and you my friend have a recipe for a..."beautiful disaster" (that is an excellent pun, sit down somewhere!)

#8. Annie Leonhardt (Attack on Titan): Attack on Titan is a show I've recently started getting into and it's cast of characters really capture my imagination. One of the characters that really stands out to me is Annie, not just because she uses one of my favorite fighting styles in Muay Thai kickboxing (which she uses to devastating effect), but also in her introverted and isolated personality which serves as almost a dark mirror of Mikasa Ackerman. In a world full of terrifying monsters in human form, Annie sticks out as the most unsettling because of how coldly apathetic she remains to her individual actions as a double agent sent to wipe out humanity, and one can never truly tell if she might shake your hand or snap your neck.

#7. Rize Kamishiro (Tokyo Ghoul): Poor Kaneki, it really looked like he'd found the girl of his dreams when he met Rize Kamishiro. She was stunningly beautiful, mature, well-read, and seemed to be genuinely interested in him. Alas, he was soon to learn the harsh reality behind this beautiful face, as she lured him in, only to literally take a bite out of his heart (or neck, depending on how you want to look at it). As it turned out, Kaneki's 'dream girl' is actually a nightmarish ghoul with a ravenous taste for human flesh, and poor Kaneki was on the menu. If not for some steel beams falling on top of her, there likely wouldn't have been anything left of the poor guy.

#6. Raynare (Highschool DXD): Now take everything I just described about Rize and add just a touch of sadism, and you get this fallen angel beauty. Honestly, that's how I've always viewed Raynare's character, as a far more sadistic version of Rize Kamishiro, and when you look at then two, it's not hard to see the similarities between the two: Both manipulated and betrayed the respective male leads of their respective anime by posing as sweet, gentle, kind and shy young women; both are incredibly sadistic, manipulative, and ruthless, and most of all, both continued to haunt Kanenki and Issei even after their deaths due to their betrayals. Although I'd say that Raynare is just a bit more psychotic and sadistic than Rize is, which puts her slightly higher on my list. Also, major bonus points for Rayare's light-based abilities that serve as a great foil to her sinister personality.

#5. Junko Enoshima (Danganronpa): OH I FUCKING LOVE THIS WOMAN! If ever there was a title for "craziest bitch on the block", Junko would take that title and then laugh about it in your face. What other woman would be crazy enough to set up a series of sadistic killing games that would make Jigsaw stand up in appreciation under the guise of a sadistic teddy bear, murder their own twin sister, and even axe off THEMSELVES when their plans go awry! Yeah, Junko is crazier than your average bird, but damn if that doesn't make her all the more appealing, doesn't hurt that she's hot as hell either!

#4. Lust (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood): Well it's really all right there in her name isn't it! One of the Seven Homunculi, an artificially-created human being infused with a Philosopher's Stone, Lust encapsulates everything that is both alluring and dangerous about her given Sin. Her sensual voice, body, and nature can bring any man to their knees, traits she's more than willing to use to further Father and the Homunculus's goals. And when her target's usefulness is done, they usually find themselves on the receiving end of one of Lust's razor-sharp nails. Unfortunately for her, as hot as she may be, Roy Mustang's flames were even hotter!!!

#3. Cinder Fall (RWBY): When I first started watching RWBY, Cinder was one of the characters that caught my attention almost immediately. The way she played the role of being the ruthless master manipulator just enthralled me like I'd never seen before. I'd seen great manipulators in anime before, but Cinder had the feel of almost an expert chess player, manipulating the pieces around her, and always staying two steps ahead of everyone else in her attempts to checkmate the King. But wat truly sold me on Cinder as a detestable villain, was two incidents in particular, and I think every RWBY fan knows what I'm talking about: Her murder of Pyrrha Nikos, and her attempted murder of Weiss Schnee. Those two incidents to me added a touch of sadism to her character and put her over the top as a truly great villain in my eyes. Oh, and it also helps that she's a total pyromaniac with Fall Maiden powers that can roast you like a Thanksgiving turkey. Yeah, definitely NOT the kind of woman you want to get on her bad side.

#2. Medusa Gorgon (Soul Eater): Ah yes, Medusa! The only woman who could make Orochimaru lust for her (and I'll fight anyone who disagrees with that statement!) But in all seriousness, I can see why people often compare Medusa to Orochimaru as the similarities between the two are incredibly stunning: Both have an affinity for snakes; both are genius scientists with a total lack of care for human life; Both have shown an ability to jump from one body to another, like a snake shedding its skin; and both have shown the ability to manipulate almost anyone to their cause. What makes Medusa even more unique however is her treatment of her own child Crona, treating Crona as a mindless killer and never showing any real form of love or emotion towards her own child except when that child can help further her own twisted desires. Yeah, Medusa definitely won't be winning any "Parent of the Year" awards.

#1. Esdeath (Akame ga Kill): Admit it! You KNEW it was gonna be this woman didn't you, c'mon now! Anyone doing a list of their favorite anime villainesses that DOESN'T make Esdeath #1 is just wrong! She's got everything you could ever want from a great villainess: She's a total sadist with a Social Darwinist personality and a total lack of empathy for humankind. She's incredibly powerful with her mastery over ice thanks to her Teigu "Demon's Extract"; Plus she's a woman who lives for her love of conflict, and her love of Tatsumi (lucky bastard!) Add to that the fact that she registers a perfect 10 in sexiness, and you've got a recipe for my favorite female anime villain!

So that's my list, what did you guys think about it? Love it, hated it? Go on and tell me what you think and let me know who your favorite anime villains are. See you soon!

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/darkchild316

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maruzzewrites · 4 years

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Forbidden, Obsessed, Kidnapper, for Formaggio please

We don’t form meaningful relationships in la Squadra, we only obsess over people and kidnap them when they start to fight back. Tw for obsessive behavior and kidnapping, obviously.

When you first met Formaggio, he looked like an average man who could offer you some fun. He was fun, even if his jokes were too cruel at times, and he was handsome, to the point you couldn't believe he actually approached you at first. Soon enough, you learnt he was quite a libertine and you weren't the only conquest he wanted to brag about, so you shrugged and took it for what it was. You could already feel the animosity of his other partners, and you didn't want to extend your stay in his life for more than you needed, lest you get into fights with people jealous over a simple fling.

Formaggio was nice enough to consider as a casual relationship, but the more you were in his presence, the more you felt uncomfortable with his attentions. If he started with simple compliments, cheesy names and sleazy lines, it eventually devolved in more ardent declarations and questions. Soon enough, he abandoned all pretenses of being civil and detached, and started to question you about your private life: school, work, friends, family and other potential lovers. On that last topic, you could see a odd, burning fire in his eyes, his jaw clenching forcefully and straining his usual grin.

At first, you managed to endure his change, mostly out of complacent inertia over the relationship you built with him. But Formaggio would get more forward in his approach with each opportunity you gave him: if you didn't tell him off about the intimate gifts he would bring you from time to time, he would simply get something more romantic the next time; if you didn't roll your eyes at his attempts to get to know your family, he would simply introduce himself after learning the address of your parents; if you didn't get angry over his interest over other potential suitors, he would easily track them down and scare them off.

Before you could do anything about it, he knew everything about you with alarming ease. One moment he was relaxing at your house, sitting on the sofa, and the next he was begging you to forgive him and give him another chance after he let it slip that he was informing people that you were taken. You weren't sure what made you more furious and frightened: the fact he was spreading the fake story that you two were together, or that he named friends and family as if you gave him their information. You didn't, you would never do something for this kind of relationship.

So you found yourself with a desperate man, ready to kneel on the floor in front of your door if you didn't prevent him from doing something so embarrassing in public. His excuses were bordering on pathetic, with a bunch of platitudes that he could only get from the cheesiest movies they aired on TV. You asked him to go away, to forget about you, you were sure he could easily find someone else to spend time with; you absentmindedly mentioned the existence of his other flings, and that lit a fire in his eyes as his grin cracked his face. He assured you there was no one else, he dropped everyone, you didn't need to be jealous as you were the only one in his mind in that moment.

You raised an eyebrow at that, and looked away for a moment in order to go back in your house and close the door in his face. You were done with this conversation, but he didn't have any intention to leave you be. With fast movements, he grabbed your arms and then both of your shoulders, dragging you closer to him to hold you against his body. You panicked instantly and attempted to wriggled away, but his strong arms held you in place despite all your efforts. You were too busy trying to get out of his hold to listen to him properly, but his tone and the words you heard him pronunce were enough to send shivers down your spine as you felt yourself become weaker against his strength.

"That was all, babe? You were just jealous?" His voice was his characteristic one, but it felt strained and odd to your ears. His lips were still pulled in a grin, yet you felt it was unauthentic despite it was reaching his eyes, splitting his face into a sinister look. He never felt as imposing as in that moment, tall and broad, his muscled body like a cage reserved only for you, and your voice felt so little against his booming one. There was relief, and happiness in his eyes as he continued to talk, "I was jealous too, you know. I hate sharing you, I'm so glad you felt the same."

You tried to reason with him, but he simply started to walk away, your house's door still wide open. You begged him to close it, or you'd return to find your house robbed. He scoffed at that notion, and you wanted to hope it was because he believed you would return to find everything in its place.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #formaggio #formaggio x reader #yandere #Anonymous

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imtryingthisout · 5 years

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Sunglasses and Serenity

[a fic inspired by @nachosforfree @sanderssides-magicalgirlau check them out]

[Warnings: Descriptions of a Panic Attack]

[Pairing: Sleepxiety]

[Word Count: 2283]

——————————————————————

It was not a quiet night. The sky above was dark, the pearly stars hidden behind the neon verbosity of downtown. 24 hour shops and businesses had windows that never dimmed, pinpricks of artificial lightings blurred together creating an abstract mess of blended color.

The moon itself was distorted by the light pollution. It’s natural autumn glow paled in comparison to the vibrancy of the busy streets.

Remy both loved and hated it.

Growing up with summers spent in his family’s old Villa in Italy, secluded in a valley side miles away from the nearest approximation of a town, he had always known how the sky was darker blue than black. He and his cousins loved to climb upon the rooftop and find the stories hidden in the stars. The earth around them was quiet and peaceful, but never silent. The symphony of crickets and other night creature laid in the background of every night spent there. A distant murmuring, Tellus’s lullaby.

Moving to the city had been akin to dunking his head in a bucket of ice water and screamo pop.

Shocking, painful and utterly disorientating. But after the ringingness faded- strangely exhilarating.

Remy has thrown himself headfirst into the city’s night culture. Staying up late partying, trying all the best coffee houses, hanging around the hidden-and-not-so-hidden drag shows,gaining a reputation and a caffeine addiction along the way.

But this was not a night where he would be going out, not when everything he needed was with him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Virgil really was a sight to be seen, his skin was pale, like the white-petaled sunflowers that grew by the valley, that seemed to glow in the moonlight. But his starkness fit in perfectly with the gleam of the industrial lights. Heterochromatic eyes, green and purple, stunning as murano glass and pulsing as strobe lights.

Achingly familiar, yet enticingly foreign. Home and longing rolled up in one boy, a boy who has stolen one of his sleep shirts for his own nefarious (adorable) use.

And who probably wanted an answer. Quick Remy, think of some witty remark to be entertaining!

“You ever notice how bright it is sometimes?”

Damn it! Guess we’re being genuine.

Virgil quirked his head to the side, giving Remy a piercing look, before nodding his head slightly . “Yeah,” he said, “Used to overstimulate the crap outta me when I was younger.” Then he paused, debating with himself over continuing- but decided to press forward. “Is that why you always wear those stupid shades?” The last words said in jest.

A surprised laugh escaped his through before he could stop it- Virgil almost reaches out to comfort him, but tensed up, too many bad memories stilled his arm.

“Girl, I’ll have you know these are designer glasses right here” he made a gesture around his face, “Iconic one of a kind Remy Hypnos Original Shades. Don’t go dissing my brand babes”

Virgil just snorted and rolled his eyes, “Uh, I’m pretty sure the designer thing on your face are those-eye bags you have hidden under there.”

“Damn right, even the bags under my eyes are Gucci”

“Oh Gods did you steal that off tumblr you sleep-deprived asshat? Oh don’t give me that look you totally did.” Virgil’s words had started off biting, but slowly devolved into a giggling mess.

(He really was just too cute for this world, Remy thought)

“Oh Ha ha, laugh it up” he snapped, ignoring his blushing cheeks and hot ears.

(Virgil could always tell how flustered Remy was by how red the tips of his ears were. A dusty pink for flirty, A warm rouge signaled embarrassment or arousal. Virgil loved watching the colors bloom on his skin. Memorizing what each shade meant- he could take any cochineal-colored paint swatch and map out Remy’s mood in the margins. It made him so easy to read, and so much fun to mess with.)

Soon the laughing and jeering subsided, and Virgil turned to look at Remy, “But seriously man, Is that why you always have those things on? Photophobia?”

“Can’t it be enough that I look rad as all Hell’s in them?”

“Not with that deflection it can’t” Virgil wasn't giving up it seemed, so Remy let out a deep sigh and gathard his words. “Remember highschool?”

“Kind of hard to forget.” High school was an absolute trainwreck for Virgil, he’d been on and off meds that screwed with his moods- making the already hormone fueled circus that was over a thousand teens trapped in one building, like a pack of sardines- even more emotionally taxing.

But if High School was a disaster for Virgil, it was absolute Hell for Remy.

Remy and his cousins had been homeschooled by their many relatives since they were children. Growing up learning in his family’s study. Rich mahogany floors, dim golden lighting bouncing off the variety of nick-nacks and treasures that line the shelves. Learning to read in his grandfather’s library, his worn and wrinkled hands guiding his young fingers along the words.

His cousin Alessia longed to go to a public school, and pleaded with her mother for ages before she relented. With the condition that she would allow her to go- but only if one of their own went with her.

So Remy, proving himself as her favorite, offered to accompany her.

The blinding smile on Alessia’s face as she squealed thank you , thank you amata cugino, favorito benedetto, was totally worth it. ‘It’s only one year’ he thought, ‘how bad could it be?’

Until he actually got there.

Virgil could think back and recall in semi-perfect clarity the day Remy Hypnos graced the halls of Sandershore High. Roman had become a central hub for gossip , and he’d heard whispers that of new transfer students, which in of itself wouldn't be news. But Hypnos was a household name, owning some of the most ridiculously pretentious Itialian Restaurants in the country. The kind people got engaged at, those levels of nice.

Needless to say when Remy and Alessia strolled into Sandershore’s gate. With perfect olive skin, rich brown hair and clothes nicer than Virgil’s single mom income could ever afford. Virgil fell in hate easily.

(The kind of hate that has him staring at him out of the corner of his eye during Calculus. Thinking about what his eyes looked under those darkened glasses. The kind of hate that wasn’t really hate)

Remy had all the perfect components to rule to school. Pretty, rich, with a startling amount of charisma and people skills for someone so unsocialized.

(Know one knew how he picked up slang so fast in an attempt to hide to slight foreign tilt that laced his words. Never knew how when he first heard someone mock Alessia’s body he punched the guy’s lights out without ever thinking. No one knew how he hadn’t had a night's sleep since school started. How fake he felt, his mannerisms esageraged and twisted to suit the liking of the student body- till he felt like a caricature rather than a person.)

By second quarter Virgil and Remy’s seeming distaste for one another had spread far and wide. They couldn’t be in the same room together without having some sort of verbal showdown. If you asked Virgil he would say that Remy was a self absorbed prick with an ego the size of Mt. Rushmore. If you asked Remy he’d say that that Virgil was a clingy mood-killer who couldn’t see past his own issues.

(Remy didn’t know how empty Virgil felt. How much the crushing weight of his own thoughts threatened to pull him down under. How his dependency on Patton was more sinister than a clingy best-friend. How sometimes his nightmares left him gasping and clawing- begging for them to come back. How his mother never really could fill the emptiness in his house. How Virgil sometimes felt like a puppet going through the motions.)

As the eye bags under their eyes grew darker and heavier, and autumn grew colder and colder. Both boys felt the pressure crushing them under its weight.

(Turns out they both used their arguments as cathartic release from the world around them.)

(Some things never change.)

It was winter when they found each other. Both on the verge of a breakdown-

(It was always too bright. There were no warm wooden floors just chilled title and harsh- fake- lights. The entire building smelled like body odor and cleaning supplies. The teachers were strangers, uncaring distant- he heard what the girls were saying about his cousin. He just felt so-)

(Empty. Hopeless. Patton was gone where did Patton go? He was lonely. And so so pathetic. He needed to get himself under control needed. Don’t be a burden- they all hate him- don’t slip up. They’re going to leave him. Everything felt so distant- drowned out by the static- he was drowning-)

Where the fate’s looking down on the two powder keg boy. A spark away from igniting. Weaving their strings together for a happenstance in counter. Or was it merely coincidence that they went to the same storage closet, to have a moment's respite.

Was it just chance that the door was automatic-locked.

“This is just great” Remy hissed under his breath, he just wanted one moment- just one! Of some cooled peace and solitude. Away from the buzzing gossip and fake friends. Away from the sensory hell outside. A little kernel of bitter anger swelled within the pit of his stomach. One moment, just one.

Then he turned to look at the other person in the room.

Remy had seen lots of sides of Virgil Anxiti, the sarcastic commenter, the horrible-yet oddly insightful- student, the debater .

(He hadn’t seen the devoted son, the caring brother, the friend who would do anything for his loved ones)

But he’d never seen him… blank.

Curled up in the corner of the closet, arms hugging his knees as they were pressed into his chest, was Virgil. Eyes dead and dulled as stone. The muscles in his face were relaxed completely- which unsettled Remy more than crying would have.

Remy wasn’t a Knight in shining armor, or even a comforting person in general- but unqualified as he may be, he couldn’t just let his favorite rival just sit there and do nothing to help.

Alessia needed physical touch when she was upset , their whole family was practically comprised of touchy people. So when one of them was sad, it was a one way ticket to hug time. Somehow Remy didn’t think that would be well received.

“Hey, babes I’m going to touch your arm- that good with you?” He didn’t reply, not that Remy thought he would- but still. So slowly, cautiously, he layed a single hand on Virgil’s arm.

The change was gradual, but noticeable. Hear bloomed under Virgil’s complexion, bringing back warmth into his skin. The glassy oversheen of his eyes subsided, and his entire posture just… relaxed. And so did Remy.

When he had gathered enough of himself, Remy guided Virgil though his breathing exercises. In and out, In and out. Hand never leaving his arm- grounding him to the world.

The door was still locked when Virgil regained his senses. “Guess we have to wait until someone notices we’re missing” Which nearly set Virgil off into another spiral. Until they rembered that technology exists. And so they used Virgil’s phone to text Logan to come and unlock it.

“He’s the only one who won’t make a big deal about us being locked in a closet together”

But there was time between then and there. Time to talk, if only to fill the awkward silence.

To talk about school.

“Girl I have no idea what they put in those ‘school provided lunches’ but they are not food.”

“What rock have you been living under? I once got food poisoning from drinking some of the milk in 6th grade- and that still wasn’t the worst thing I’ve eaten from there.”

About Friends.

“I met Patton when I was six and we’ve been best friends ever since. Dee joined in when we were all about nine and we first saw Lo’ and the twins when they started freshman year”

“I cannot honestly tell you the names of half the people who hang around me”

About Family.

“Hon you could bust down every wall in this building and still wouldn’t have enough room to put all my fam”

“It’s just been my mom, little brother and Patton since I was eight and my dad walked out. Still don’t know who I hate more for it- him or me”

If Logan took just a tad longer route to the closet- he didn’t mention it. He also didn’t mention when Remy started joining their table for lunch. Matching Roman and Remus in all their theatrics- offering to set up a ‘play date’ between some of his younger cousins and Dee’s many siblings.

(If he noticed how much happier the two were after that, how much more healthy Virgil seemed, how more secure in himself Remy acted...well that was just one more thing he didn’t mention.)

Present Day Remy took off his glasses, letting them rest gently in his hand. “My Nonna gave them to me the day before I started school. Said they would come in handy. They did of course.. they just kinda.. became more” he rubbed along the temple’s rubbery tip. Eyes focused in on the way his fingers move up and down the slender frame.

Virgil gently takes the glasses into his hand, and sets them down on the bedside table. He has to stand on his toes to reach Remy’s face, but when he does he tenderly places a hand onto his cheek, gazing into his deep brown eyes- the same shade as his espresso cups and just as rich.

And Remy melts into him. Allows himself to be led away from the window. From the bright lights and traffic noise, and into Virgil’s embrace.

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drabblesofrapture · 3 years

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Mod Dusty here. Following up Vicey’s post about the Among Us AU with a scene that I wrote for it. It’s not a continuation of her scene (sorry) but it does contain the same characters!

First time posting one of my written works here so I hope y’all like it!

CW: graphic depiction of violence, blood, mentions of weaponry

~~~~~~~~~~~

“IT WAS HIM!” Takeo roared, his arm raised to point at Johnathan at the other side of the round cafeteria table. “THE BASTARD KILLED HER RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!”

“You’re a terrible liar, Takeo. Only you are capable of such a grisly crime,” Johnathan responded immediately, his voice steady and calm.

“Takeo... how could you?” Roxanne managed to croak out in a shaky voice. She stood close by Johnathan with tears in her eyes, practically hugging the boy’s side. She broke down into a fit of heavy sobbing, burying her face in John’s shoulder.

Takeo’s lips pulled back in a snarl to reveal his pointed teeth. “THAT’S FUCKIN’ BULLSHIT, YOU WEREN’T EVEN-”

He was cut off by Jeff slamming his hands down on the table to get everyone’s attention. “That’s enough, we’re not going to solve anything by just yelling at each other.”

“Who even died?” Selena interjected with a confused look.

“Take a look around the bloody table you nitwit,” Oliver spat. “Notice anyone missing?”

Selena took a second to scan the other seven crewmates sitting around the table. “Jazzy?”

“And the last horse crosses the bloody finish line,” Oliver scoffed with a sarcastic slow clap.

Jeff just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Of all the people to be stuck in space with. “Listen we don’t have much time. Let’s just let both sides tell the story from the beginning. Johnathan?”

He had been comforting Roxanne, one arm wrapped around her slender frame while the other softly petted her raven hair. Once Jeff addressed him, he looked up and gave a small nod. He let go of Roxanne, whose sobs had now died down into quiet sniffles, and turned to address the others. “It happened right before the O2 was sabotaged. Roxanne and I were walking into the reactor room to do our assigned tasks. As the alarms went off, there was a gunshot and we saw Jazzy drop dead in the doorway to the reactor with Takeo standing just inside the room.”

“It was so awful…” Roxanne murmured. “The blood... her head…” She buried her face into her hands as she broke down sobbing again.”

“That’s not what happened!” Takeo insisted, slamming his fist on the table. “We were coming out of the reactor and that emo SHIT STAIN slaughtered her like a goddamn ANIMAL!”

“John and Roxy both said they saw you do it though,” Selena pointed out. “Sounds kinda sus if you ask me-” “SHE WASN’T EVEN FUCKING THERE!” Takeo shouted once more, pointing an accusing finger at Roxanne, causing the poor girl to cry even louder. ‘SHE’S LYING, I’LL BET SHE’S AN IMPOSTER TOO!”

“You leave her the Hell out of this!” Johnathan said defensively, a hint of anger slipping into his voice.

“Enough!” Jeff said sternly, raising his voice to be heard above the chaos. He leaned over the table, propping himself up on his elbows and lacing his fingers together as his eyes flitted between the two parties. “Did anyone else happen to see Roxanne anywhere else on the ship?”

There was a collective shaking of heads from the other crewmates. “The two lovebirds seem to like sticking together so it checks out,” Melissa said nonchalantly.

“I’m sorry Takeo, but it’s two against one,” Jeff said as he pulled out his tablet to vote. The others followed suit and Takeo could feel his heart sink as the small beep sounds came rolling in. He looked around the table desperately, trying to find one kind face to defend him.

“Guys come on! I loved Jazzy, she was my fiance for Christ’s sake! I would never do anything to harm her I swear!” He looked around at them but all faces were solemnly turned away from him. His eyes landed on Derek who was looking down indecisively at his tablet. “Derek c’mon bro! We did wires together earlier, remember? I watched you clear out those asteroids!”

Derek looked down, not daring to meet Takeo’s gaze. “I... I don’t know. All the evidence seems to point to you-”

“Oh are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Takeo snapped, his eyes burning with fury. “YOU ALL THINK I’M JUST SOME KIND OF MINDLESS MONSTER HUH?! YOU’D RATHER BELIEVE THAT I KILLED MY GODDAMN FIANCE INSTEAD OF BELIEVE THAT I WAS FRAMED, IS THAT RIGHT?! GO FUCK YOURSELVES!”

Derek flinched at Takeo’s rage and pressed the skip button in the voting options on his tablet. Selena patted the poor boy’s shaking shoulders while Jeff glared daggers at Takeo. No one said a word, the only sound being that of Roxanne’s weeping. Everyone had voted now except for the hulking ghoul himself. Takeo’s anger subsided and he just scanned their faces hopelessly one last time as he slowly lowered himself onto one of the seats around the table and looked down at the tablet in his hands.

“I’m comin’ home, Jazzy,” he murmured to himself as his trembling hand pressed the “skip vote” button. There was nothing more he could do, it was over for him.

***

TAKEO HAGAKURE HAS BEEN EJECTED.

The words flashed in white on the screens of their tablets as Takeo’s frozen corpse drifted out into the empty vacuum of space. The remaining seven crewmates sat around the meeting table in quiet reflection, none of them wanting to look out the window as Takeo became a tiny spec, drifting farther and farther away from the ship. Jeff looked around at the rest of the crew before standing up, drawing all eyes to him. “Ok listen up, if Takeo was an imposter then that means there’s still one left on the ship. I want you all to just continue doing your tasks and stay sharp. Let’s try to get this ship up and running before the imposter has a chance to strike again.”

They all nodded and started getting up to leave. Roxanne clung to Johnathan as they both stood up; she was still crying quite a bit. Johnathan looked over at Jeff as he tried to comfort her. “You go ahead, I’m going to take her to medbay for a bit so she can calm down.”

Jeff just nodded, but he narrowed his eyes at the two as they left. He dreaded to think about it, but he couldn’t deny the possibility that Takeo had been right. The girl did look pretty shaken up though, so it would probably be best to just let them be for a bit.

When the two finally walked into medbay, Johnathan brought Roxanne over to one of the beds to sit down while he went to peek outside the doorway to make sure no one had followed them. Roxanne just sat there hunched over on the bed with her face buried in her hands. However, as she carried on, her sniveling started to change into something else entirely; it quickly became apparent that she was giggling. It kept twisting into something more sinister until she finally couldn’t contain it and threw her head back to let loose a torrent of uncontrollable maniacal cackling. Johnathan began chuckling in a similar manner, his deep voice resonating ominously in his chest. The room was filled with their sounds of twisted and insane delight.

“That was almost too easy,” Johnathan said with a contemptuously smug grin. “Those damn idiots will believe anything; they’re even willing to condemn an innocent man to death over a hastily cobbled-together alibi.”

“Oh darling, it was wonderful! I can’t believe they even bought that I was with you!” Roxanne cackled. She mocked a look of helplessness and began fake crying. “I saw it happen... it... it was awful!” Her crying quickly devolved back into that sinister giggle.

“We’ll make quick work of those fools for sure,” Johnathan said as he strode over to the bed Roxanne was sitting on. He bent down slightly so their faces were about level and she put her hands on his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss. After that, she stared dreamily into his eyes for a few moments and smiled.

“Oh, what a lovely pair we make darling.”

#rapture drabbles #rapture universe #rapture charas #vicey's charas #Dusty's charas #among us au #mod Dusty

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jeonggukingdom · 5 years

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mots démoniaques, 3 | aquiver

▽ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

▽ Genre: [mythological!AU, demon!AU] | Angst, Smut, Romance

▽ Summary: You can sense from miles away the sin that dances on his tongue, the words that he so loves to shape into sinister thoughts and morph into sickening outcomes aimed at tainting and wrecking all things mundane and innocent. Kim Taehyung - a voice of honey and features of a cherub - is nothing but a monster. He has lived millenniums, yet, he has never found such a fascinating creature as you are and polluting your very being has slowly become his entire life motive.

▽ Word Count: 6.249 words

▽ prompt word: aquiver

▽ AN: The Amanojaku is a small demon that finds its roots in the Japanese folklore. Everything besides his name and his power - aka the ability to instigate people into wickedness with his words - is entirely the fruit of my own imagination and doesn’t have anything to do with the original myth.

▽ ▽ WARNINGS: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, oral sex (receiving), fingering, dirty talk.

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June, 2014

The white cotton shirt you’re wearing adheres to your skin in the most uncomfortable fashion, the fabric feeling like glue on your chest and the small of your back as you sweat your whole existence away.

It is one of those blazing hot days that makes you wish you owned AC in your apartment or, at the very least, a freaking fan to spend your days in front of. But, alas, you do not have the luxury of owning either of those and therefore, you are stuck with natural air circling in from the window as you stare into the distance, your mind riling up with thousands of thoughts and scenarios all at the same time.

Today is an important day, the most important one even—if you were to exclude graduating from college.

It has been roughly one year since your school career has come to an end and, well, news flash: being an adult sucks.

Finding a decent job wasn't as easy as you initially envisioned, even with your perfect performance at college and now, quite a few months later, you are facing the consequences of still deciding on going to live alone with your boyfriend—currently very unemployed, sadly.

It has been a hell of a ride so far and yet, a great part of you wouldn't change a thing just because with him, you have come to experience real happiness. You know, the one not even money can buy.

But as you nervously tap your foot on the ground, you do find your heart swelling in apprehension over the news Taehyung will bring with him back home.

You have finally found a decent job at a nice office a good forty minutes bus drive away from your own tiny-ass apartment and, in the past four months, your entire income has been devolved to keeping you and your boyfriend alive while still being able to pay the rent.

Today, though, things could potentially turn in a far better direction.

Taehyung left in the morning for his final job interview at a corporate across town, one that he'd been dreaming to work for at least for the past year.

The long selection of candidates had been draining on you both in equal measure in both spirit and finances.

Let it all be worth it, please. That is the thought passing through your head like a mantra for the hundredth time when you hear the unequivocal rumble of Taehyung's old motorcycle turning around the corner.

That bloody thing is bound to leave him stranded in the middle of the street one day—honestly, it is a miracle it is still in one piece and moving.

Taehyung has inherited his bike from his father and he had bought it with his first salary when he was still a teenager.

Basically, the thing is pretty much ancient and needs more work than it is worth and, even if you both were willing to try and turn it back to its initial splendour, without a single penny to spare it can only remain a dream.

You usually hate the sound of that god-damn motorcycle or the unbearable stink that comes with it in the air as it puffs out pretty much charcoal but, today, even that sound feels different. It feels full of hope for the future, full of promises.

You almost jump from the parapet to get inside your living room—well, living room, bedroom, and kitchen because you couldn't afford more than a two-room apartment—and rush to the door, waiting for him like a puppy ready to welcome its owner.

Your feet keep thumping on the floor nervously as you eagerly wait for the door to spring open and for Taehyung's face to appear before you, hopefully with a wide grin spread on his lips. If you had a tail, you'd definitely be shaking it right about now.

Your heart misses a beat as you hear the sound of the key being thrust inside the keyhole to unlock the door and a few seconds after, your boyfriend's face comes in view, his eyes becoming as big as saucers as they land on you and the expectant look painted on your features.

His lips turn a little downwards as he faces you while closing the door behind his back.

"So?" You ask eagerly and you do realize how annoying you must look like, especially if he's actually bringing bad news alongside him but you simply cannot help yourself.

He clears his throat, his eyes diverting from your face to the floor, his shoulders slumping as he starts biting his bottom lip.

Your face falls alongside his mood, your heart feeling like somebody is squeezing it hard inside your chest.

"I'm sorry, ________, I..." Taehyung's voice is barely above a whisper as he opens his mouth, his eyes still focused on anything but you and you hate it.

You hate how he must feel right now, you also hate yourself for running to the door so expectantly you installed in him the fear of letting you down. But most importantly, you hate the sound of your own voice as you try to make it all better with your words.

"It's ok, baby, we'll still manage," it doesn't sound convincing even to your own ears as you voice your thoughts out loud, trying to sell a lie to him and to yourself as well.

The past few months have been rough and, frankly, it will only get rougher as time goes by, as winter comes and you'll need to warm up the place and actually heat food on the stove to keep yourself from freezing to death.

"I'm sorry," Taehyung repeats, his voice sounding so broken it moves you on the verge of tears.

That is until he lifts up his face and the brightest grin you've ever seen is plastered on it. What was breaking his voice up weren’t choked up tears, it was the attempt of keeping the giggles in.

"I'm sorry to inform you we are going to move out this rat-hole by the end of the month!"

A couple of seconds pass between the words he pronounces and your reaction to them. There is that tiny fraction of a second where you fail to comprehend what his words entail that has Taehyung absolutely beaming before your very eyes.

“You mother-fucker!” The shriek you produce in response to his teasing makes him laugh out loud, his eyes still glinting with mischief and pride over his astounding acting skills.

You would feel very livid about him joking about something so important if your whole life didn’t depend on it. Anger is very quickly subdued by utter joy and relief and hope for a far greater future.

It’s those feelings that propel your body forward, your arms reaching for your boyfriend so that you can finally hug him tight to your chest, feel his warmness even in the scorching hot summer day and simply relish in his presence, in your being together here and now, ready to start a new chapter of your lives.

You are unaware of the tears spilling down your eyes and staining your cheeks a mellow grey until Taehyung’s grasp around your body tightens, his eyes searching for yours as guilt and concern peek through them.

“Why are you crying, baby?” His voice is low and soft and it makes your insides melt like butter under the sun. How is he still capable of doing this after the many years you’ve spent together, you wonder.

“I’m just happy,” you murmur, your voice trembling as you try to gulp down all the emotions that menace to spill out of you like a downpour.

The weight of the past couple of months, the fear of crippling depth getting closer every single day, the doubts for the future and the effort to keep up the strong façade and a happy smile on your lips even during the hardest of times all come tumbling down with the relief of his news. It’s as if he broke down all the walls you had built around your weak heart in one single blow and now, everything is overflowing in every direction and you simply have no means to control it any more.

Taehyung’s delicate fingers reach your cheeks to catch the tears before they dry on your warm skin, his lips plant little loving kisses on top of your head and his voice turns soft and gentle as he tries to dissipate the storm of emotions taking over you.

You’d love to stop crying, especially because you’re supposed to be celebrating right now, but it feels like you will never stop doing so just because, for months, you have forced all of them down to the point you were almost choking on them every time you had to breathe.

Long minutes pass before the little sobs come to a halt and your red and puffy eyes are given reprieve from the overflowing cascade.

By the time your quivering and ragged breath slows down completely, you are beyond tired, almost as if you have just run a marathon during the hottest hours of the day.

Your mouth is completely dry, to the point it almost feels like your tongue has turned into sandpaper, and your head is thrumming with the unequivocal beginning of a tremendous headache.

Your boyfriend smiles at you, his lips turning thin as they curve up while his eyes shine with unspoken relief.

“There we go,” he mutters, drying up every last drop of tears stuck under your lash line and you smile back at him whilst sniffing loudly through your clogged nose.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your eyes fixing on your feet in shame and remorse over your complete breakdown.

Taehyung’s fingers caress your left cheek before wrapping around your chin to tilt it upwards and force your eyes back on him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, so stop apologising,” he whispers back before touching your nose with the tip of his own, the tenderness of the little touch tugging at your heartstrings to the point you can feel it swelling inside your chest.

"There is one thing though," he adds after a few seconds and you tilt your head upwards a little bit further to pry inside his eyes.

The question pending on your tongue can easily be read by Taehyung without you needing to voice it out loud for him and it paints an amused smile on his lips.

"I've been dying to kiss you since I left this morning so, may I?" The playfulness in his tone makes you scoff out loud, your eyes rolling towards the ceiling as you feign annoyance over his antics when, in reality, you both know you have been waiting for his touch the whole day as well so it doesn't really come as a surprise that you close the distance between your faces in an instant, eager to claim his mouth.

Taehyung's lips are as soft as cotton candy and just as sweet as they open for you, welcoming your tongue as you easily move it past his teeth to play with his own.

The kiss is slow and deep and it makes your eyes flutter close and a sigh escape your lips as you twist your head a little to the side, making it easier for him to bend forward and hold you close to his chest.

His big hands keep you steady and firm, flush against him with a possessive hold that makes your heart pump hard against your ribcage.

“Tae...,” the tiny whimper that moves past your swelling lips is all it takes for his hands to move southwards and turn a little more passionate, just a drop rougher on your supple flesh.

His fingers easily palm the expanse of your ass, squeezing your cheeks in a way that makes you hiss in nothing but pure arousal.

You can feel your nipples hardening against the dump fabric of your shirt and there is no doubt he can feel them too with your chests pressed so tightly together.

He tilts his head a little further to the side to leave your mouth and rather attack the tender skin under your ear.

Taehyung’s lips can always be either a blessing and a curse and as they hardly press against your skin they feel like one and the other at the same time.

He blooms deep purple flowers on his favourite spot between the curve of your jawline and your clavicles and every little suck, every little lick of his tongue, make you shiver and sigh for him.

“I’ve been thinking about you the whole day,” he confesses through heavy breaths as his fingers tug on the hem of your wet shirt to lift it off of you.

Your arms automatically fly up to the sky, your back arching a little to help the fabric off of your hot and needy flesh.

“Yeah?” You whisper, throwing your head backwards as he pulls your bra down to free your breasts from their confinement, “And what have you been thinking about?”

You lick your lips as his mouth encloses around your already-hardened left nipple, his teeth gracing the delicate flesh in a teasing manner that has your walls contracting on thin air in expectation.

“Oh, all sort of things,” he hums with that low tone of his he knows gets to you every single time.

The sound of his voice as deep as the ocean is usually more than enough to turn you soaking wet and as his mouth works his way on the expanse of your chest, there is not a single doubt your underwear is already being ruined beyond salvage by your growing arousal.

“All the nasty things I’d love to do to you,” he says next as he unclasps your bra to discard it on the floor and move on to his next target.

He falls to his knees and your hands automatically fly to his long and curly brown locks to tug a little on them and make him hiss for you—if sounds could be described as sensations, what escapes from Taehyung mouth during lewd activities would be like warm and liquid honey moving past your lips, falling down your throat and finally coiling inside your stomach to blissfully fill it in heat on a frigid winter day.

“Like bending you over the table in my future office and taste your delicious pussy in front of everyone.”

The lascivious words that leave his mouth in a deep whisper draw a needy moan out of yours, they turn your fingers rough on his hair and they subdue any lingering emotions by drowning them all in wanton desire.

“Would you like that, baby?” He asks, his voice suggesting he already knows perfectly well the answer to his question but has no intention to stop teasing you in every possible way he can.

His hands are slow and gentle as they reach behind your back, their focus clearly the hem of your cotton shorts and what lies beneath them and you only make it easier for him when you lean into his touch so obediently, so blinded by the need to feel him everywhere around you. The silky fabric slides down your legs with utter ease, pooling at your ankles at his command so that he can finally seek the treasure he had been looking for.

His slender fingers are all over your butt cheeks in an instant, the warmness of his touch making you sigh and close your eyes in blissfulness.

Just like his voice, Taehyung’s hands hold incredible power on the tips of its digits and it is evident in the way your body awakens under the simplest of touches.

The sensation of his tongue flat on your coated sex comes unexpectedly while you are blinded by your closed eyelids and it makes you whimper out for him, your heart missing a beat as expectation starts to spread all over your body.

“You are so eager tonight, baby” He hums a few inches away from your soaked panties, successfully sending shivers to run up and down your spine, “Have you been thinking about me as well, perhaps?”

His words are spoken with a suggestive tone in them that makes it clear he, yet again, already knows the answer to his question but still would like to hear you speak it out loud for him.

His eyes turn expectant as he lifts his gaze up to you in a puppy-like demeanour that tugs at your heartstrings anew and makes it impossible for you to resist him—not that you even want to.

“I always think about you,” you confess, your voice quivering as soon as you see his mouth drawing closer to your neglected sex.

His eyes are still stuck on you as he stops right atop your core, so close that his breath keeps caressing the dampened underwear in slow waves that make your insides twitch blissfully.

“Yeah? And what do you think about?” His voice is low, barely above a whisper but you still catch up on every syllable that falls from his beautiful mouth.

You clear your throat after gulping down heavily, your heart thumping fast against your ribcage as you ponder over your response because you know, without a single doubt, he will give it to you. Whatever you desire, he is ready to hand to you and the infinite list of things he is capable of beautifully torturing you with make it quite the demanding task for you to choose.

“I think about your mouth kissing my sex,” you whimper out, foretasting the moment his lips will come in contact with your sex and surely, a few seconds after, they do, eagerly following your directions.

“I think about you pulling down my panties with your teeth.”

His eyes shine with mischief as they refocus on you, the playful smirk on his lips only an inkling of his true and most devious intentions.

His pearly whites come in contact with your feverish skin, masterfully wrapping around the hem of your underwear to drag it down your legs and finally release your wet core.

He nuzzles his face between your legs, inhaling loudly to fill his sense of smell with your scent.

You gasp for him whilst resuming your strong hold on his locks, turning quite demanding and explicit with your desires.

“What else?” He whispers on your core, the nice vibrations making you shiver from head to toe.

“You-your tongue teasing me, tasting me, torturing me-ah!”

The words have barely the chance to leave your mouth before he’s all over you, tasting you like he is a famished man in front of a fucking feast and you are rendered speechless in the span of a few seconds.

His hands still firmly pressed on your ass keep you perfectly in place as he savours your dripping arousal with his lavish tongue, the sounds he emits as he eats you out a blessing to the ears.

All the little grunts, the heavy pants as he struggles to breathe between your legs, the slurping sounds as he voraciously claims every single drop that escapes past your lips throw you into a haze of pleasure that has you demanding more from him in whimpering broken whispers.

A sigh of both relief and disappointment escapes your mouth as you are given reprieve from his ministrations. In any other occasion, you would tug harder on his locks, make it clear that you wish for more but you did say ‘torturing me’ and, surely, Taehyung has every intention of following your words to perfection.

His eyes refocus on you, glinting with desire and playfulness and you can’t help but crack a smile for him and turn your grasp gentler, affectionate.

The fingers that were almost painfully locked in his hair are now caressing his head, his cheeks and his rosy lips wet with your juices.

He turns his face to the side to plant a quick and delicate kiss on the palm of your hand before leaning into your touch, closing his eyes to savour the sensation of your fingers on his skin.

“What else have you thought about me doing?” He asks next, his voice thick with need and devotion.

“Fucking me on this floor,” the confession makes your skin boil because on any other day you would have never admitted it out loud but as Taehyung’s eyes focus on you, desire burning inside his onyx eyes, there is not a single drop of regret in you.

“Is that so...” he whispers atop your skin before placing light kisses on your inner thigh, his tone pensive as if he is trying to envision claiming your body right here, right now.

His hands move from the curve of your ass to your hips, applying just enough force to drag your body down so you can lie on the floor beneath him.

“What about our fine carpet?” He asks as your back hits the rough fabric of the ancient rug, his eyes curious as he pries into yours.

His legs rest on either side of your hips, his hands trapping your head in place as he expectantly looks down at you, a little smirk already drawn on his mouth.

“We can afford a new one now, can’t we?”

Taehyung laughs at your words, shaking his head a little with your unexpected response.

“We really can, my love.” He says after a few seconds while inching forward to attack your neck and plant a few kisses there and rejoice in the little sighs you produce.

Your eyes flutter shut as he drags his lips downward, gracing your skin with the softest of touches to both shower you with love and make you squirm impatiently the closer he gets to where your desire lies.

The gentle kisses feel far warmer when they are planted on your mouth and they make your hips roll forward, desperate to feel more of his inciting touch.

When his mouth opens and he inhales loudly you close your eyes even harder in response whilst holding your breath, your body feeling on the brink of self-destructive implosion as you wait for him to claim you anew.

His heavenly lips encircle your clitoris with masterful precision and your back arches for him, your mouth opens in a silent moan that makes him suck on the little trigger in retaliation until you are forced to whimper out his name.

“I want to hear you,” he says, his lips brushing your skin as he slightly lifts his gaze up to meet your own.

Just like you, Taehyung has a fixation over the little sound you can produce while having sex with him and you know pretty well how worked up he can get by them and that is precisely why you give up any resolve about being quiet the instant his slender fingers start teasing your dripping core.

“Baby... please,” the quivering whine that escapes from your lips makes him smile in satisfaction, the little smirk looking almost infuriating to you when you’d put his mouth to far better use, “Stop teasing,” you add, a little pout turning your lips downwards in that adorable way you know gets to him every single time.

Without fail, Taehyung follows your pleas and directions with rapid eagerness to please you and in an instant, his slender fingers are lodged inside of you, stretching your walls in all the right places.

Your sighs and soft mewls fill the room alongside the sound of your squelching core under his masterful ministrations.

Taehyung stares into your face with that mesmerizing look of adoration that makes your insides absolutely melt while he completely ruins you with his touch.

It is maddening to see how much he knows your body and what it likes, it is almost scary to realize there isn't a single part of you he hasn't explored already, being so bent on mapping your entire body with his own, in every way possible.

It is impossibly easy for him to reach and find all the pleasure spots hidden within you and he does it so masterfully it leaves you absolutely breathless every single time.

His tongue darts out of his mouth again to tease your clitoris and make your eyes roll back inside your head. Your back arches almost instantly as he consequently curls his fingers inside of you, timing his ministration in a way that doesn't allow any reprieve.

Your breath turns ragged, your lips start to tremble as you part them to beg him for more whilst the pressure in your stomach gets stronger, heavier.

Reading your body like an open book, Taehyung slides another one of his digits inside of you, the motion rendered sleek and effortless by your dripping arousal.

"Tae..." the begging tone of your voice draws his eyes back on you, his lips twisting into another smile as he lifts his face up after leaving the apex of your core with a lewd pop.

His fingers turn a little rougher inside of you as you stare down at him, your mouth still parted as if you were about to say something else but found yourself incapable of doing so.

You gulp down heavily, the rhythm set between your legs turning almost bruising as you start to whimper for him, unsure yourself whether you want him to stop or keep going until you are melting right on the palm of his hand.

"I-," you quickly lick your lips, your mouth feeling suddenly dry by the pending release that has your walls already contracting wildly all around his fingers, "I want m-more."

Taehyung's eyes seem to turn into two onyx stones for a second, not a single glint of light reflected in them but, when he stares down at your core again, you find yourself whimpering at the lust reflected in those irises.

Your legs bend a little as you turn a little shy under his gaze, the desire of covering up the state of your battered sex growing almost overpowering as he licks his lips as if he is about to taste the most delicious meal ever.

His eyes shoot you a warning glare and before you know it, his mouth is secured around your little trigger again, sucking and pulling on the tender flesh until you are whimpering in pleasure and coating both his hand and his face with your glistening release.

"Beautiful," he mutters to himself as he releases your sex with both his mouth and fingers, allowing you to finally catch your breath.

Your body shudders at the sensation of emptiness he leaves within your sex as he draws back to take a better look at the state he has so quickly reduced you to.

"I want more," you croak out, your eyes pointedly fixing between his legs and the evident tent in them.

He laughs and clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side while raising his eyebrows in a taunting way that dares you to be more specific, pronounce the final lascivious words that are standing between you and his almighty cock.

"In my fantasies, you never have clothes on," you chose to say, aiming to resume your little game.

Taehyung scoffs at your choice but still happily complies, not wasting the chance he was given of teasing you, yet again.

His fingers are still coated in your arousal and he makes it a point to lick them off before you, his eyes shining with mischief as he makes all those lewd sounds that turn your skin boiling hot and your core absolutely aflame in anticipation.

His fingers glisten with his saliva mixed with the remnants of your arousal as he lets them drop to the hem of his shirt, eager to finally set himself free.

He lifts his own t-shirt off and discards it somewhere behind him, carelessly throwing the fabric away so that he can step out of his pants next and feel some relief on his neglected sex.

His underwear is white and thin and it does absolutely nothing to conceal both his boner and the dark spot right in front of the tip of his cock.

"Do you see what you do to me without even touching me, baby?" He says as he palms himself before you, his eyes still fixed on your features to gauge your reaction.

You lick your lips in expectation, almost feeling the tip of his cock moving past your them and blessing you with his bittersweet taste and surely your train of thoughts must be really apparent because he sighs loudly and squeezes his sex harder, almost as if he's imagining your lips closing around it.

"Are you going to make me beg for it?" You retort whilst opening your legs a little more to draw his eyes back on your dripping core.

As soon as his gaze is fixed right where you wanted it to be you roll your hips suggestively, your left hand teasing your own swollen lips to taunt him a little bit further.

He draws in a sharp breath and cuts the distance between your bodies short while removing his boxer briefs in one go.

"Absolutely not," he retorts, his voice quivering as his hand flies to his now liberated cock.

The sight of his head tinted a painful-looking red glistening with arousal makes your mouth water and for a moment you do consider closing your legs, tease him a little by denying him access to your sex just to take him in your mouth but as he gives himself a little pump to release some of the scorching desire you cave in completely, too eager to finally have him inside of you to care about silly little games.

Taehyung stares right inside your eyes as he lodges himself between your legs, his hands on either side of your head.

"You know I love you, right?" He whispers, placing a soft and chaste kiss on top of your lips—a striking juxtaposition to the way his cock is slightly twitching atop your core, your skin deliciously brushing together as he nicely coats his sex with your juices.

You nod your head yes a few times and steal another kiss from his mouth before openly voicing out your feelings as well.

"I love you too, baby, so so much."

Taehyung smiles and places playful kisses on your jawline while aligning himself with your sex, clearly unable to resist any longer.

The moment the tip of his head moves past your labia you sigh in unison, relief spreading through your limbs as you finally get a taste of what you had been craving for the entire day.

His lips find the curve of your neck again and as he starts to push himself inside of you, inch by inch, he decides to suck onto the tender flesh until you are whimpering at the sensation of your skin being pulled by the passionate vice whilst your walls get stretched so blissfully by his engorged cock.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispers atop your skin as he switches to tender kisses on the same spot, his lips aiming to ease the little pain they provoked a few seconds ago.

"Yeah?" You whimper out as you move your legs to anchor them behind his back, "I can make you feel ten times better."

Your words make him groan loudly in the crook of your neck as he struggles to not slam right into you and finally quench his desire.

"Fuck me, baby," you add in a lewd whisper as your arms encircle his neck to keep him close to you as you start rolling your hips to meet his.

Your words really do pull the last straw for him and as they leave your mouth, he sinks right inside of you with a deep growl.

Your eyes roll inside your head, your back arching a little as he starts pushing and pulling his hips towards your sex, aiming effortlessly at the sweet spot he has conquered an incredible amount of times already.

Taehyung voice turns soft again as he whispers sweet nothings inside your ear to tell you how good you are to him, how much he loves you, how grateful he is for having you and also some lewd things like how well you take his cock, how much he loves your pussy and the way your voice sounds when you moan his name out loud for everyone to hear. All the things he says—both the sweet and the passionate ones—work like absolute magic on your body and mind and they turn you into a whimpering, boiling hot mess.

The smell of his cologne seems to amplify as sweat pools on his forehead, his neck, the small of his back and it is intoxicating. It feels like being drowned by his essence, like your own body is getting swept away by it, no, absorbed by it until there is simply no beginning and no end to the both of you.

His hips roll slowly into yours to deepen his thrusts and you pull him even closer to your chest, whimpering his name in his ears just the way he loves it, making him visibly shudder on top of you.

Taehyung grunts at the little sounds you make and picks up his pace to draw more out of you, louder ones and oh, he does.

You are absolutely shameless at this point and it doesn't matter that the walls on this apartment are paper-thin and people can certainly hear the both of you. In fact, you welcome the idea that they might be right about now, and that they may be imagining what you two are doing on the floor and, even more, that they might be getting excited by it.

"Tae," you whimper out again, your bottom lip quivering as your own fantasies and imagination start piling up wood to the already burning fire.

Your voice must sound pleading to his ears, maybe even desperate and it is evident once he starts picking up his pace to turn it bruising inside of you.

The head of his cock brushes relentlessly against your trigger spot and your chest starts heaving as a wave of pleasure washes over you from the tip of your toes right up to your skull.

The deep moan that escapes your mouth is only an inkling of the force of the pleasure that is taking over you and as Taehyung slows down a little you find yourself desperately whimpering at the accidental orgasm denial.

"Come here, baby," he says, his voice low and thick with raw passion as he lifts you up to have you sit on top of him.

"I want you to look inside my eyes as you come," he whispers before stealing a kiss from your mouth.

Your chests brush together as you slowly start to roll your hips forward to meet his, the sensation of his hot flesh pressed against your own hardens your nipples, adding stimulation to the already raging fire between your legs.

"Are you-ah-are you close?"

You tilt your body a little backward, allowing your hips to sink deeper on top of him and he grunts in appreciation as his hands find purchase on the small of your back to keep you still as he fucks into you faster.

Taehyung's low moans and sighs are music to your ears and they turn you even more eager to reach that delightful release while consequently bringing him down with you.

Your mouth seeks his own with roughness, all tongues and teeth clashing against each other until you scream his name and the orgasm makes your body deliciously aquiver for him.

Pearly strings of cum coil inside your stomach as he releases his load inside of you a few seconds after your own orgasm, your juices mixing together and spilling on the poor and forever-ruined carpet while you try to catch your breaths.

You laugh in his arms as he looks down at the state of the both of you and the fabric underneath your sweaty bodies and, soon enough, he is giggling alongside you while shaking his head a little.

His arms move up behind your back so he can drag you down on the floor and keep you there, nicely secured in his arms.

"To a new chapter of our lives," he whispers atop your mouth before stealing a quick kiss from them and you smile down at him, happiness wildly blooming inside your heart at the prospect of a new life together with the man you love.

If only you knew.

#btssmutclub #btsguild #bangtan bookclub #kwordsmiths #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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cristalconnors · 4 years

Text

BEST ALBUMS OF 2019 (#20-11)

20. MAGDALENE, FKA twigs

MAGDALENE finds twigs grappling with the scrutiny of fame in a time of personal crisis; a health scare that overlapped with a devastating breakup, so devastating that here she casts her pain as being biblical. If that sounds pretentious, don’t worry- twigs’s music has never been so endearing or so palpably personal. She explodes the breakup album and launches it into space, embracing classical song structure just so she can rip it apart, getting to the heart of the medium’s panoramic possibilities for personal exploration, exposing herself more thoroughly than she ever has in the process.

19. BRANDON BANKS, Maxo Kream

Maxo Kream’s father looms large on Brandon Banks. “Brandon Banks” is an alias he used when scamming. That’s his face on the left side of the album cover, crudely taped over Maxo’s own, but if you just glance at it you might not notice they’re two different people, their faces morphing into one another’s like a still from Persona. That’s the idea. Maxo digs deep into the family history that drove him to the streets with stunning clarity, an inheritance of criminal activity, violence, and despair, but also valuable life lessons and a hard-earned resilience- the kind of lessons that would compel you to tell your father you love him after you beat his ass.

18. THE PRACTICE OF LOVE, Jenny Hval

Jenny Hval’s music has become increasingly more accessible over the years, bending ever so slightly towards something you might call pop, if you caught it at the right angle. But this isn’t to say that she’s compromised her identity as an artist at all. If anything, her music’s become deeper, more nuanced, and more affecting. The entrancing, repetitive rhythms and uncanny interpolation of spoken word in The Practice of Love transcend the borders of genre, offering mystic observations on the concept of love itself that you can lose yourself in.

17. ANGEL’S PULSE, Blood Orange

Blood Orange’s Dev Hynes has a habit compiling cutting room scraps and leftover ideas into a sort of epilogue for whatever album he’s just put out. Just as much thought and effort goes into these follow ups, but he holds them close, only sharing them with dear friends and collaborators, if anyone at all. Judging by the quality of Angel’s Pulse, the first of these projects to receive a proper release, it’s a shame we’ve never heard any of them before. These songs don’t sound like throw aways, but rather compliments to the soundscape of Negro Swan, a handful of them even eclipsing that album’s peaks, revealing new, strange corners of Hynes’s sound.

16. TWO HANDS, Big Thief

If UFOF sounds like it was beamed in from some other realm, Two Hands sounds like it sprang up from the soil. It’s Big Thief at their rawest, up close and personal like the tight framing of the cover art, yet their images of violence, insecurity, grief, what have you, are obfuscated, buried in the dirt just out of sight. But that’s where their power derives from; the attempt to decipher them. Like a feeling, their songs are thrillingly difficult to pin down and are uniformly compelling.

15. ITEKOMA HITS, Otoboke Beaver

The spirit of punk is alive and well in Japan. Otoboke Beaver’s blistering Itekoma Hits is a lightning speed study in well placed rage and controlled chaos that reminds the listener that a good punk album is a living thing, bending unexpectedly to accommodate the enormity of feeling on display. A song’s established rhythm will stop suddenly so the guitars and drums can punctuate an exclamation in perfect unison with lead vocalist Accorinrin’s words, before the song devolves into a rumbling, discordant mess that’s rousing as hell. The result is a towering, playful epic in miniature that’s too big to be contained.

14. ANIMA, Thom Yorke

The visual companion to ANIMA sees Thom Yorke struggle dancing through a nightmare dystopian society, like The Trial as directed by Pina Bausch. The drably dressed dancers are lost in a dizzying monotony, reflected in the pulsing, repetitive synth beats that define the album, and just when it seems Yorke’s broken free and found intimacy and genuine human connection, we find him right where he started, dozing off on public transit, trapped in the prison of routine. It makes sense that Yorke would explore many of the same textures and instrumentation of his score for Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria, recycling the cinematic strings and sinister synths to paint a restless widescreen portrait of despair on societal and personal levels.

13. PUNK, CHAI

CHAI’s music is charming and carefree, relishing in the joy and simple power of statements like “everybody’s special guys!” “you and me always! how fun!” or “love! love is all that we want!” Looking at the translated lyric sheet, it’s remarkable how many times whoever translated it felt compelled to use exclamation points. The album plays like one extended, 30-minute-long exclamation point. But this is not simple, straightforward pop. The textures are stunningly complex, utilizing competing rhythms, discordant tones, and distortion to build sonic worlds you can dig deep into. Everything about the album is maximalist in the best way, announcing CHAI to the world as uncompromising, terminally delightful purveyors of high pop.

12. LET THE SUN TALK, MAVI

“So she saying what kind of music you make? The kind you gotta read, baby.” MAVI’s not lying. He’s described his raps as “equations,” which is a uniquely apt descriptor. You could build a semester seminar around unpacking the dense poetry of Let The Sun Talk’s brief 30-minute run time, but MAVI spits the words out effortlessly atop meandering beats sculpted from hypnotically looped, refracted samples, announcing to the world what he already knows: he’s among the very best in the game.

11. REWARD, Cate Le Bon

The image of Cate Le Bon descending an otherworldly mountainside, casually defying gravity in an editorial look that could grace magazine covers feels uniquely suited to her songwriting. On Reward, her music is extra-terrestrial. Woozy, distorted horns and guitars and buzzing synths provide the foundation while Cate’s singularly striking voice and surreal lyrics that can verge on comedy drive it home, deepening and expanding her sound to craft her best effort yet.

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nega-aria · 5 years

Note

Gyro and Mark visiting a cemetery at night

Ok, I suck super hard at keeping things short, so these may go slower than I expected, but I’m having a lot of fun with this so thanks for the request!

“You First”

Rating: SFW

Characters: Mark Beaks, Gyro Gearloose, Falcon Graves, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera

Ship: semi Beaksloose but not very shippy

Warnings: mild swearing

“You go first.��

“Like hell I’m going in there first! What happened to youproving how oooh so much better you are than me?”

“Pfft, don’t gotta prove facts, bitch.”

“That’s literally how they become facts.”

“Look just go already!” Mark yelled, his voice quivering andshrill in the cool night air as he finally turned to face Gyro. “Unless you’drather go back to the party and tell everyone you were too chicken.”

Damn that party, and damn that smirk on Mark’s face. Gyroscowled at the outstretched arm that was extended towards the gate, hiding hisown nerves behind a demeaning attitude. “For the love of Mewton, you are such ababy!” Gyro scoffed, pushing Mark aside roughly enough to completely relocatehim. The frustration fueled anger lasted long enough for Gyro to throw themetal gates open dramatically, but he cringed in that entryway when the ironrods gave way to the inky abyss before them.

The obvious click of a phone camera went unnoticed as Gyrostarted wide eyed at the scene before him. Trees twisted in seemingly unnaturalways, their shadows casting an army of demented branches, muddled up into aportrait of madness. The hints of moon that could be seen in the cloudy skydisplayed as nothing but an ominous slice of light: a mere tease in theterrifying darkness. It was like a set, something unreal plucked out of themost cliché of horror movies, but it was real and that was enough to make tiredtropes truly terrifying.

“See, just a depository for dead people erected solely to appeasethe irrational religious beliefs of society,” Gyro stated matter-of-factly,crossing his arms over his chest casually as though his heart wasn’t literallyabout to leap right out of it.

Mark rolled his eyes at the pompous display. “Whatever yousay, professor,” he mumbled. He jumped sharply when a soft rustling in the darkthat answered him instead of Gyro. “Did you hear that?” Mark squeaked.

“What, you scared or something?” Gyro taunted. Quitefrankly, it made him feel better about his own fear to bother Mark about his.

Mark’s feathers puffed on cue. Gyro knew they would, thesmug bastard, but that didn’t stop Mark from going on the defensive. “Of thislame spooksville? As if!”

Gyro didn’t say anything, not so much as a hint of laughter,but he might as well have been cackling manically. He didn’t even look back ashe began a slow trek into the foreboding landscape, and that crude brush-offinfuriated Mark more than a real retort ever could. He didn’t retaliate –that wasexactly what Gyro wanted, after all—but his silent seething provided more thanenough satisfaction.

They occupied themselves with investigating the tombstones,argument pushed aside to allow frayed nerves to settle on something less agitating.Just to the far wall and back and this stupid bet would be satisfied.

The age of those markers shifted like fluid with each stepfurther into the cemetery, as if stepping back through time itself so smoothlythat one couldn’t even tell they were no longer in the right century. The olderthe graves got the more ominous they looked and the more it felt as if theiroccupants would simply rise from the ground and drag any trespassers with themto hell. The rows of crumbling stone were no longer organized and well caredfor. Any people who might wish to visit long were ago buried alongside theirkin, leaving nothing behind but markers of stone and iron to indicate they wereever there at all. A mossy pile of decaying rock was all that was left to markthe final resting place of many poor souls, while others still boasted toweringmonuments, guardians with their angelic features twisted by time into abstract monstrosities.

Mark swallowed at the terrified knot in his throat, but nomatter how hard he tried it proved too tremendous to gulp down. He clung to hisphone with trembling fingers, pointing its flashlight ahead of his every steplike a cross to banish evil. A boring bunch of rocks didn’t make for the bestdistraction, but Mark did his best with what he had.

“What do you suppose this dude’s story is?” Mark asked,pointing down at the grave near his feet.

“Sorry, I left my Ouija board at home,” Gyro said with anexaggerated roll of his eyes.

He scoffed at Mark when an investigation of his silencerevealed the other man to be currently predisposed with yet more social medianonsense, using a tube of red lipstick (that Gyro truly did not want to know whyhe had) to turn the dearly departed’s surname from “Buttshide” into “here liesButts”.

Gyro had never felt second hand shame so intensely in hislife. He could swear the entire graveyard was judging him from bringing such aloser into their domain. “What are you, five?”

“Yeah, wellll I wish you were five!” Mark snapped back. “Youwere actually fun when you were five! Was before you had that ginormous stickup your butt,” he concluded, turning his beak skyward in a very snottypunctuation.

In an instant the snooty demeanor was dropped to allow Markhis oh-so important task of documenting the journey via selfie timeline. It madeGyro scowl harder as he watched the parrot demean himself even further bygiving bunny ears to a headstone. “I loathe you, you know that right?” he said,but those words were not demonstrated in what came next.

A soft snap echoed in the dark. A twig rustled by an animalmost likely, but the logic of that couldn’t quite stick; in that fog filledevening, it was most certainly the breaking of bones, some animal gnawing inthe night, perhaps even a creature of such unknown horror that they couldn’teven fathom its likeness even in the most heinous of nightmares, but it was mostdefinitely something wicked.

Be it stick or monster, it had Gyro in full flight responsemode, cringing close to Mark as the other man did the same to him. “What wasthat?” Gyro squeaked.

“Totally not a horrendous monster,” Mark whimpered. “I mean,that would be super lame, right?”

Gyro actually tried to be comforted by Mark’s absurdlyinadequate attempt at a dismissive laugh, but it proved quite foolish to eventry. “It’d be preposterous.”

The night mocked him with a far more disturbing sound, likedeath itself clawing at a grave. They stood shoulder to shoulder, wanting torun but too terrified to move.

“Gyro?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Is it bad that I reallywanna hold your hand right now?”

Yet another eerie sound pierced the night, and Gyro’sfingers answered for him, quivering digits entwining tightly with Mark’s. Hegripped tighter when a dark shadow darted through the misty graves, but Marktook it one step further by clinging to Gyro’s entire arm when that same inkyfigure got closer and its hideous noises along with it.

“What the hell isthat thing?!” Mark hissed in a panicked whisper.

“N-nothing, because it’s not real!”

That entity swept closer, moved faster, and growled louder. Theywere being surrounded, voices whispering from all directions and death droolingdown their necks, famished for their flesh. A typically effeminate scream burstfree as Gyro launched himself into the embrace of the man beside him, holdingon as if his life truly depended on it.

“WHAT?!” Mark asked, the pure terror seething from his voiceas he frantically scanned their surroundings with wide, petrified eyes.

“It touched my butt!!”

“Oh, great a horny ghost! Just what we need. We can get laidbefore we die!”

Gyro did not appreciate the sarcasm. “Hey, don’t get pissyat me just because my ass is so fine that the even the afterlife can’t resistit!”

“THAT pathetic thing? It’s already living in the afterlife!”

“What does that even mean?!”

“I don’t know! I’m nervous, okay?!”

Another sound, this time louder and more sinister than allthe others, had Mark crying pathetically. “Gyro, if we die I just want you toknow that I never hated you as much as I said!” he wailed as he cowered intothe other man. “I just wanted you to think I was cool!”

“That’s stupid,” Gyro replied in the calmest tone he couldmuster, “We’re not gonna die…and I’m physically incapable of thinking you’recool.”

All at once the graveyard grew silent. Mark and Gyrostiffened in the eerie quiet, both feeling the presence behind them but neitherdaring to face it. They could hear it drooling, feel its breath, sense itsfamished growls, but it couldn’t really be there… could it?

It was Mark that actually looked first, turning slowly ashis eyes widened and his entire body quivered. It was large and menacing, andin that inky darkness it was easily eight feet tall and capable of breakingthem both in half. Blood red eyes pieced through the night and wet fangsglistened. Mark could swear he saw it lick its drooling maw, but he wasn’tabout to stick around and find out what that meant. He took off before he evennoticed that Gyro had thrown himself into his arms, but the hitchhiker didn’teven phase his stride, and they clung to each other, screaming in unison theentire way out of the cemetery. Gyro had to give Mark one thing, he was prettysure he’d win the fleeing for your life contest.

Behind them the monster cackled, maniacal laugher quickly devolvinginto elated gasps for air that struggled to allow enough room to actuallybreath.

“I can’t take it,” Falcon wheezed as he watched them, flee. “They’retoo adorable.”

Falcon pulled the mask from his face, slipping from theoversized ratty mass of fur that he normally wouldn’t let anywhere near him ashe dropped himself to the ground beside the smaller man who had been assistinghis deception. He lit a cigarette, leaning against the large gravestone behindhim and still chuckling lightly as he released the fumes into the cold night. Callit foolish self-indulgence, but when this opportunity had presented itself,Falcon couldn’t resist, and he was sure he had never laughed so hard in hislife.

“Dr. Gearloose is gonna killme when he finds out about this. You know he will find out about this right?!This was a terrible idea!!” Fenton answered, his tone growing more franticuntil he was waving his arms hysterically by the end of it.

Falcon chuckled at his partner in crime. He would likely beforever grateful that Fenton had been steamed enough at his boss to even offertechnical assistance and tipsy enough to actually go through with it. “No itwasn’t,” he answered simply. “This was bloodybrilliant.”

Immediately outside the gate both Gyro and Mark were pantingfor air, the latter asking himself how Gyro was so out of breath when he hadbeen doing all the running.

Gyro was oblivious to the annoyed look as he smoothed hisjacket and cleared his throat. “Now, when everyone else asks-”

“Oh, dude we were total badasses. Hashtag crushed it.”

“Very good.”

The wind let forth a gust, laughing at the irony as it movedthe heavy iron gate behind them just enough to make both Gyro and Mark shriekin fear and back a good distance away.

Mark gulped nervously. “…Gyro?” The other bird looked hisway uncertainly. “Will you hold my hand on the way back?”

Gyro sighed. “You do realize this is supremely pathetic.”

“…does that mean yes?”

The second sigh was even more pronounced. “Yes.”

They instantly linked fingers, both holding tighter thanthey would like to admit as they braved the dark walk back to the party. Patheticit may be, but it sure did make them both feel better.

#ducktales #gyro gearloose #mark beaks #falcon graves #fenton crackshell-cabrera #beaksloose #kinda #my stories #this was so fun #i need mark and gyro to interact more #kaylacolmanbirdqueen

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