#I can't get them out so they build up and make me fucking miserable
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I don't know, here's my problem with all that gratitude stuff people are always pushing
I'm here finding myself grateful for the really bad unexplained stomach problems I had for months that randomly flared up so bad I couldn't leave the house safely somedays (literally missed my last doctor's appointment cause it turned out that wasn't a day to be out and about)
Like unprompted, not as some kind of exercise or something, I find myself being like "yeah it may have royally sucked, but it really has helped me get a feel for how my stomach is doing so maybe I appreciate it"
Feel like that's fairly gratitude minded when you can find yourself being grateful for basically months of being sick, you know?
...so fuck off an let me be. If me organically being grateful for a painful time in my life where a lot of nights I'd be worried about going to sleep and dealing with issues so bad I was worried about how I was gonna be able to take this trip unless I got lucky... if I just on my own end up being grateful for that and still want to put a bullet in my head, maybe gratitude isn't a cure all
Maybe piss off with it, you know? I'm the first to say it's good to be grateful for shit, and frankly even walls (even when there's insulation issues) are a fucking blessing and I'll always thank my house for everything it does for me
Still not a magic bullet against depression and I get fucking sick of everyone talking like it is one... like if I just gratituded harder I'd feel better
#as always; this is why I have my no advice without being willing to help implement it policy#I don't get to tell people what to do to feel better#I just get to offer support and get stuck in with helping try to change things for the better for them in my small ineffective ways#and you know they may never feel better; and that would fucking suck cause they deserve to#but I'm not gonna make them feel bad for being open and honest about how they're doing#and I'll just keep telling them the things I like about them till maybe one day they can internalize it#and... and I'll keep trying to do the small things I can to help support them in making changes#or if at all possible directly participate in making a change for them#rather have someone be miserable and honest about it than ever try to spare my feelings#no I never want them to be doing bad but I'd rather try to just sit with them through it than make them sit alone#and I'd rather fix it all... but sometimes neither of us fucking can right now... and it's time to wait with them#had someone dealing with a real shit situation#and you know what? I knew the exact fix for the shit situation#but here's the problem... people can't do shit till they're ready and me trying to force it would have made it worse#so I just hung out and let them vent and repeatedly made sure they knew they were making sense; validated their perception of reality#made an introduction so they had more people around who'd be in their corner building them up instead of tearing them down#eventually they made the fix I knew was the fix all along and it hurt like hell to do it#and yet things started getting better pretty much immediately; cause it was always the problem#and if I could go back and do it again I'd do it the same; I wouldn't force the fix any sooner cause it had to be their choice#and frankly me pushing could have sabotaged shit#and it's still hard; and often all I can do is sit with them as they ride shit out right now and... I don't like that#I want to fix things in every way for them; they deserve that#but I can't... so I'd rather be with them as things are than make them repair everything so I feel comfortable#that's my opinion on all this#and frankly if you want to dig up my nasty bitter fucking side I try to keep tamped down#this shit is a good way to bring that side of me out#like fuck off; either you're gonna help or you're being a fucking busy body#and you can shove your advice up your ass cause spoiler I fucking tried it#I never stop putting one foot in front of the other and it's got me a house and I cleaned that fucking trailer#so how about you stuff it if you don't like how miserable I am
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Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them
I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure
He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino
I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"
But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED
One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"
And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')
Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--
When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.
But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"
And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"
And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"
At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--
The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.
IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails
"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"
"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"
"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"
"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"
"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"
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well good day to all of you. i have a tale. a classified, certified absolute god tier disaster of a tale.
at the ripe hour of 6:45 am i was awoken from my slumber by a Noise. what sort of noise? you might be asking.
the sort of noise that usually accompanies my father getting up at the ass crack of dawn and trying not to turn on the tap loudly so that he doesnt wake us up.
for one blissful moment i thought that i was at home, in my bed, and all was right with the world.
and then i remembered that i live approximately four hours away from my parents and all is not right with the world.
so i did what any person would do. waited for the noise to go away.
but it did not.
so i investigated. in all my bleary eyed glory.
and found that my bathroom ceiling light was pissing.
not just a little either.
a severe, unauthorized amount of water was streaming out of my bathroom light fixture.
so after banging on katyas door and finding a bucket and throwing on a sweatshirt i dragged my tired ass down to the front desk and reported the tea as it were.
now one thing you need to know about our building is that it is old. the second thing you need to know about our building is that the maitenance guys (we call them the boys) are absolutely incredible, like tumblr funny guy posts but irl, however they take for fucking ever to respond to any situation.
this time though, nothing was in clear danger of exploding or lighting on fire. so we made some breakfast. drank some coffee. watched the bucket that we had put in the bathroom fill up with water. and we waited.
and waited.
and waited some more.
then i noticed that if you stepped on some of our kitchen floor tiles they started squelching.
so back downstairs i went and explained the tea as it were once again.
and let it be known, that i worked for two very solid and very miserable years as a resident assistant in college. i know all about the woes of people complaining to you to fix things that you cannot fix and you cannot tell them when it will be fixed because the person who needs to do the fixing is otherwise indisposed. so my general attitude towards this whole situation was "hey man you can't make this better for me and im really not pressed about it as long as someone eventually comes and sorts out my pissing ceiling." which is a great attitude to have in this general situation. and especially so because it was about to get even more strange.
at approximately 9:30am our apartment was graced by the presence of one of the boys. the maintenance man. we will call him james.
we have encountered james before. he delt with our fuse box nearly exploding. that situation was not nearly as chill as this one was.
hes also incredible.
so he comes in and he goes "hey how's it going" and i say "well you know things are just leaking!"
he proceeds to tell us that the fridge in the apartment above us had a connection pipe that froze and exploded some how and that managed to leak all into our apartment. not nearly what i was expecting but hey! at least they know what's going on!
we tell him about the squelching tiles and he says that he will bring us a dehumidifier after he turns off the water and deals with the mess of the fridge above us. we say ok great! this is wonderful!
and he goes to leave the apartment. out of habit i had locked the door when he entered. he goes "aw man did you lock me in?"
and i say
"oh sorry!"
and he pauses.
and he looks at our door in disbelief. perhaps even utter horror.
and this, my lovely audience, is what he was looking at:
surprisingly. he was not staring at the entertainment for man and horse plaque that katya and i found while thrifting. nay. he was staring at the unfortunate combination of the printed photo of lando norris and max verstappens face.
now why are lando norris and ax verstappen on the back of my door? you might be asking. you might even be asking who they are.
and if youve been following the lore of this blog, you might recognize them as formula 1 drivers. lando norris of course being a mclaren driver and max verstappen being the reigning world champion of team red bull.
and how did they wind up on my door? well at christmas katya thought it would be funny to put a picture of lando norris on top of our christmas tree and so we got one printed at cvs but when you get wallet sized photos printed they print you four of them so we ended up with four of the same photo of lando. one went on the tree, one went to my sister, one is in our bathroom and now one is on the back of our door.
as for max. well. katyas partner drinks red bull and he was on the red bull box so we cut him out and stuck him there. neither of us are particularly big max fans, it was just funny.
but anyway. i digress.
james is standing there staring at this array of perplexing stuff and goes.
"really? him??"
and i go
"yeah..." not knowing what else to say.
and james turns. and he looks at us. and he goes. and i shit you the absolute fuck not.
"now what's wrong with lewis hamilton???"
(sir lewis hamilton being the mercedes f1 driver, 7 time world champion and absolute icon)
and katya and i go
"oh no no! we love lewis hamilton! we just respect him too much to put him on the door!"
which is true
and james goes "now what did you think of him going to ferrari?"
and i say "i thought it was an interesting choice"
and katya says "i was surprised."
and james says "you and me both" and then he shuts the door behind him.
katya and i look at eachother. and we both fall to the floor in fits of laughter.
let it be known that james has come face to face with a giant tapestry of mr worldwide mr 305 pitbull himself that is in our bathroom, on several occasions, and yet, he chooses to comment on our choice of formula 1 driver that is taped to the back of our door.
im still in a state of disbelief. my ceiling is still pissing. my floor is still squelching. and my maintenance man felt the need to call our my choice of formula 1 driver at 9:30 on a saturday morning.
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Older! Dealer! Eddie x reader, she goes to his house every Friday to buy from him, Eddie likes her, but he doesn't know if she likes him, so when they are dealing, he acts more flirtatious than usual, and that ends up in smut
I combined these requests since they are similar. Then I realized not everyone is into older!Eddie so if the anon that requested is uncomfortable with older!Eddie, please reach out and I can rewrite it :)
I sat on this fic for three days because I could not get the creative energy for the smut so the smut is like building up smut and not full blown, I do apologize. I wanted to finally get it out because I had a feeling it's going to take me a while to get that right mood to write
Older dealer
Eddie opened the door as Y/N knocked. Her contagious smile and gentle voice made Eddie's head spin. Y/N has been coming to Eddie for months now for deals. Eddie never mixed his business with his personal life, but he couldn't get this girl out of his head. She was in her 20s and Eddie was in his 40s, the age difference was the only thing stopping Eddie from making a move.
Too many nights he thought of her, lying awake as he thought about her, if she was single, her type, and if she was somehow interested in him. Eddie knew he wasn't the perfect bachelor. He lived in a small trailer and sold drugs as a quick cash grab. She seemed put together, lived in a bright world, and was so young still. She had so much to learn and explore. But he wanted to sink his teeth in her before anyone else did.
"Hey Eddie" she greeted with a big smile, sitting down at the familiar kitchen table. Eddie looked down at his watch as he sat across from her.
"Like two hours early, sweets." He teased, grabbing his bags of weed as he passed them over to her.
"Yeah, I had a date and got stood up. Figured might as well come here while I was out." She shrugged, sliding over her cash as she put the weed in her purse.
Eddie felt himself clench at her words. She was dating, but of course she was. She was gorgeous, hot, and young.
"Who's stupid enough to stand you up? Is he blind or just stupid?" Eddie asked, crossing his arms as she laughed.
"Second one. I can't tell you how many horrible dates I've been on. These guys are so shallow and boyish. Never have respect or manners. Just trying to get laid and bounce out." She complained Eddie found a sense of excitement knowing she was failing miserably in the dating world.
"Sounds like you need a break from the young ones." Eddie winked, maybe this was his shot. He pushed his head on his hand, a little smirk on his face as she tried to read his face.
"And what are you suggesting?" She asked, her eyes looking from his eyes to his lips and back. Eddie smirked at the action, licking his lips as she looked at them again.
"That you need to try an actual man," he stated, looking into her eyes as he kept his voice low. "Someone that knows how to touch a girl like you, hit the right spots, make you whimper, and make pretty sounds. Someone who will be there when you wake up." Y/N felt herself shivering at his words. Her brain thought of his hands touching her, ruining her.
Y/N felt like her throat was dry as she tried to speak up.
"And do you have a man in mind?" She asked, not realizing she was leaning in.
"Depends, are you into older men? Maybe twenty years older than you?" His eyes looked down at her lips as she kept leaning closer.
"Not until I met you. Then I couldn't get you out of my head" She confessed, Eddie smiled at her words. He pulled back and stood up. She blinked confused as she watched him.
He grabbed her hand and yanked her up. She yelped in surprise as he picked her up and placed her on the table. He stood between her legs and wrapped a hand around her neck, tilting her head up.
"I was worried you'd be too young for me. But fuck, you never leave my head. Can't believe those boys don't realize the chance they got." He said, his lips ghosting over hers. Giving her time to stop it if it wasn't what she wanted.
"What about you? Dating around?" She whispered, she knew he was with others and she hated knowing his body was touched by someone else.
"Eyes just on you, baby." He admitted, his lips even closer to hers. He moaned when she smashed her lips on his, her arms around his neck as she tried to control the kiss. He let her have the control for a little while. He took his time to taste her and feel her body under his hands.
He pulled away, she whimpered as he did. Her hands are trying to yank him closer. He pecked her pout softly.
"Patience darling." He whispered, he stood between her legs as he stripped her clothes, admiring her as she laid bare underneath him. His hands moved to her chest, squeezing her breasts softly as he kissed down her neck. His mouth wrapped around her left nipple, sucking softly. His right hand moved down her body, rubbing her clit slowly.
Y/N never thought she'd find herself under her older drug dealer, gasping and cumming over and over. But she was grateful that every bad date led her to this.
Eddie figured people would have shit to say about their age difference, but he didn't care.
He wanted her and he got her. That's all he cared about.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson smut x female reader#eddie munson smut#older eddie munson x reader#ashwhowrites
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The great hormonal storms in book 5 lead me to this ask: let's talk about sex. Or at least sex ed. Does Hogwarts have it (at least in LH'verse)? Is that a nurse duty or a Head of House one? Did Narcissa sit her baby boy down for The Talk, at least to impart how Miss Granger would return to her parents in the same state she left them or at least unimpregnated? Did she outsource that task to Uncle Severus? Did Ron share what his older brothers passed down? What does our favorite victorian-in-spirit know abt sex beyond "lie back and think of the bloodline" and his hormonal daydreams?
I'm l o s i n g it at the idea of Narcissa instructing Draco to leave Hermione "unimpregnated," which, I just — I think the minute she uses those things in the same sentence, Draco hits the road at the speed of Mach Christ. He's gone. He's not here. He's not in the building. Can't have the Sex Talk if you can't fucking catch me, Mom. (For the record, I can fully see Narcissa trying. She's much less prudish than Draco is — gossips about adultery with her 11-y/o son on Christmas morning, references Ye Olde Wilde Times with Lucius, cracks the occasional bawdy joke, etc. — she just doesn't often see the need to discuss it, being aware that Draco, as far as she knows, remains an un-Awakened little Victorian. The Great Granger Debacle of 1995 is likely raising her suspicions there.) That said, Draco knows what sex is; for some reason my mind gravitates to the slightly handwavey answer of "boy's dormitory." I'm picturing him in his four-poster, curtains drawn, pretending to be asleep, while Ron and Harry have a free-ranging, horrifically creative conversation about what Ron thinks sex is (courtesy of the twins). Optimistically, Neville hops in with corrections from Augusta Longbottom's sexual etiquette seminars. Either way, Draco never, ever reveals that he has heard this conversation.
Or, alternatively, he and Theo have a really intense heart-to-heart during that summer before third year, which would do a lot to explain why the two of them are so weird about each other basically for the rest of time. (Raising the question of where Theo/Pansy/Daphne learned it. At age 12, Pansy got an excruciatingly detailed Talk from her mother, who was scared to death of a teen pregnancy pitching their family into ruin; Pansy, deciding it was unfair she had to suffer this and Theo did not, inflicted said Talk on Theo, who was just relieved that he didn't have to ask Sibelius. And Daphne grew up around so many healers that she just badgered them until someone gave in and told her. She's also a stated connoisseur of trashy romance novels, so. Make of that what you will.)
I think that Hogwarts, being modeled in mores and general Vibe from old English boarding schools, probably is not the most forward-thinking with sex ed. I also do believe Severus Snape would sooner jump off a bridge, and I kind of need him for the plot, so I've got to spare him that grave and important duty. Poppy Pomfrey probably gets the question the most of any staff member, and over the years, I think she's honed her answer down to a tight 3 minute-monologue that covers all major topics.
Odds and ends in the same vein:
Hermione gets a sit-down with the Drs. Granger the summer before her thirteenth birthday, so sometime in August, 1992. It is meticulously explained and flawlessly presented, with color-coded diagrams, an index, and a syllabus. It includes a diagnostic chart for common STIs and a spreadsheet on birth control options. Dr. Granger gets excited after a tangent about ovarian cysts and runs to pull out her old copy of Grey's. Hermione spends the whole time fully miserable, wondering why parents couldn't be like, greengrocers or something. (That doesn't stop her from asking questions, obviously.)
Ron, like all Weasley men of his generation, gets a knock on his door sometime around his 14th birthday, and Arthur invites him to "go fishing." This is code for "stand by the river and try to keep a will to live while your dad explains the mechanics of sex, its importance, and the value of waiting until you feel comfortable and safe sharing that level of intimacy with a trusted partner" (sic).
Fred and George got separate talks, because Arthur wanted to emphasize that he sees them as individuals; however, Fred ran back and immediately recounted it all to George, who proceeded to feign extraordinary expertise in it the next morning, to his father's horror.
Ginny's "go fishing" equivalent is Molly taking her out for tea and delivering a well-meant but incoherent combination of abstinence-only sex ed, aggressive body positivity, and highly technical discussions of how to insert a diaphragm. Ginny, who bullied the real story out of Bill years ago, is baffled, and to this day can't say for sure what she was supposed to take away from it.
Harry spends his 14th birthday at the Burrow. Ron and his brothers make a blood pact in advance not to tell him about it, though, so when Arthur invites him out for the day on August 1st, his sole thought is: oh, nice! Can't wait for some fun fishing :)
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Don’t Let Me Love You | Chapter 20 (end)
pairing: Felix x fem reader; Chan x fem reader
genre: smau, fake dating, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au
pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)
warnings: swearing,
summary: With the upcoming wedding of her cousin and her ex, Y/n is in desperate need of a date for the wedding that will show the happy couple that she moved on.
word count: 875
screenshot count: 14
©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.
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bonus content: memes part 2
You dig around you bag for your keys as you climb the stairs to your apartment. You spent the entire day at the library taking notes from Sunny and Ro on key details that you wanted in both the anime and the live action that were set to be made within the next couple of years. You and Hyunjin agreed weeks ago that you would make your own lists and meet up when you were done before you went to the executives. The act of rereading your comics were a great distraction from everything else going on.
"Holy fucking shit!" You scream when you look up and see a dark figure standing outside your apartment.
"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Felix steps out of the shadows and sheepishly smiles.
"You can't just lurk in the shadows like a creep, Lix." You place your hand over your chest to settle your heart.
"I wasn't being a creep, I was waiting for you. Which, now that I said it out loud does sound creepy." He speaks quickly. You pull your key out of your bag and open the front door, letting Felix go in first.
Your heart is still beating fast, but you're unsure if it's because you were just startled to death or because Felix is standing in your apartment after a week of not seeing each other. It's the longest you two have gone without seeing each other since you got back from Jeju.
"What's in the bag?" You ask as you watch Felix set down a bag on your coffee table.
"Ah, well there's the cinnamon crumb cake that you like since you probably didn't have dinner yet and I know how much you like to have dessert first. A-and I was going to get flowers but I know you they make you sad because of how fast they die so I bought lego ones. Only, I didn't know if I should buy the individual ones or the bouquet so I bought all of them." He's speaking quickly again and refusing to make eye contact with you. You've never seen him nervous before, it's kind of cute how squirmy he is.
"You came over to build legos?" You quirk your head to the side. Your heart drops in disappointment.
"No--I mean we can if you want to but-- fuck," He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut, scrunching his nose in concentration.
"Felix, what's wrong?" You set your stuff down on the floor and walk closer to Felix. Your heart is pounding in your ears again.
"Ah, fuck it," He mutters before cupping your face and quickly pressing his lips into yours.
You two stand like that for what feels like eternity. Your eyes flutter shut and you melt into his touch. Almost too soon, Felix pulls away from you. Your eyes slowly open and you're met with Felix's worry filled eyes.
"What...?" You're certain that his simple kiss cut off all oxygen from going into your brain.
"I've been miserable all week. I miss that weird little squeak you do when you laugh that's both so subtle and so noticeable." Felix drops his hands and steps back.
"I squeak?" You laugh.
"You do! I also noticed how boring everything smells in comparison to you. You smell like paper, ink, chocolate, and apples--which is weird because I don't think I've seen you consume a single fruit the entire time we've known each other." He scratches his head and smiles widely at you.
"I eat fruit!" You laugh harder, tears forming in your eyes.
"It doesn't count if they're in a dessert." He laughs. He pauses for a second, looking at you in the eyes, straight into your soul. "The world seems so much darker now. And not in the sense of like dread and horror, but all of the colors look more muted somehow. A-and I miss the way you fit in my arms, which, by the way, feels like they were meant for holding you. Like--"
"Like the missing piece to a puzzle." You say softly. Your heart skips several beats and it takes you a second to remember to breathe.
"Exactly! And, and everything I eat just doesn't taste as good as it used to. And I realized, that everything is better with you. You're right, you did intrude on my life. You came into my life like a stray puppy and I want to keep you."
"I'm scared, Felix." You whisper, dropping your eyes to the floor.
"I'm absolutely terrified." Felix tucks his finger under your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. "But you're worth that fear, Y/n. I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I just let you walk out of my life without even trying."
"What if I fuck you up?" Your voice cracks.
"You've already fucked me up. In the best way possible. You took over all of my senses--you made me fall in love with you."
"But--" Felix grabs your face again and presses a long kiss to your forehead. He pulls away and l looks you in the eyes, still holding your face.
"Please, just let me love you."
—
Buy me a coffee?
—
Tag list:
Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you
@primoppang @junebug032 @jaydebow @streetrebelrootsdistinguish @sanriiolino @hyynee @muddy-waters @usercaiskz @skzofhearts @qweebsarse @amara-mars @stayconnecteed @blueforte @soonyoungblr @dandycharmer @hibuki-chan @jihanlovic @fylithia @chlodavids @its-hannjisung @hash2013 @felixglow @procrastinationprodigy @tfshouldidohere @weebsrequiem @swiftly-heart @mybabywearschanel @end0rchans @curly-fr13s @stvrfir3 @qveenbibi @pink-rose-chans-baby @sserafimez @yennifersgeralt @gemisea @farfromsugafanfic @veedoesntknaur @felixrealbabymama @mrsseals16 @rag-iii @captivq @idkwimdahyd
#feelbokkie writes#dlmlu smau#stray kids#skz#stray kids smau#skz smau#chan#bangchan#bang chan#lee know#minho#lee minho#changbin#seo changbin#chan smau#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#felix smau#han#jisung#han jisung#felix#yongbok#lee felix#lee yongbok#lee felix yongbok#seungmin#kim seungmin#i.n#jeongin
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Horny time
♡ poorly done NSFW hc ♡
☆starring☆
König aka our zaddy for the night
Tw: miserable attempt at being smutty and NSFW, foul foul language, MINORS DNI, sexual themes
A/N: never have i being one to write nsfw, it took only one(1) tall austrian himbo to turn me into a whore. DISCLAIMER: I don't write smut and everything i have written here comes from very embarrassing google researches and poor sexual imagination so if it sucks, i know im sorry it is what it is. @bloodlst has gave me the final push to attempt at being horny on main ANYWAY ENJOY
Keep in mind that this is all coming from my asexual ass and my very little sex knowledge
The horrors I had to learn about to be accurate in this are not yet known to humankind
Anyways let's start by saying that könig, despite his usual attitude, is quite surprising when it comes to make love
I can't really decide how horny he would be
Like I don't see him being over the top horny but he does likes to have sex(?)
Like it's not being horny it's about what he feels when he's doing it with someone he loves
You as a whole are a turn on for him
Like not in his always with his willy saying hi all the time
He just really likes you know?
He's utterly enamoured with you so you don't really need much to get him going
He definitely enjoys some playful flirt or teasing
not to be like a whore on main but just saying 👀 those hands? He really really knows how to use them
He has learned the secret knowledge that is not about speed but about the movements and how you work it
One could think that because of his job his hands are rough but they're actually kinda soft
Years of fidgeting with anything he finds at hand reach has make his fingers quite dexterous in movements
For some reason I picture him always on his knees when either doing a hand job, fingering or anything that has to do with hands
He likes to have a clear vision of you and your reactions
He quite literally is a menace with those hands both in and outside missions
I know everyone thinks of him as a gentle and lovely cinnamon roll
And he is, he definitely is
But he gets way out of character during the deed
He's…he's a lot, like a lot lot. But worth every bit of it
Just so you have an idea, he feels the most beautiful when he's making love to you and it's something he truly enjoys
I know I've already said but still
It's not just about the pleasure or the orgasms, it's about every new part he can discover of you and how much closer to you he feels after it
He definitely puts his whole heart and königussy in it
Doesn't really likes to be rough perse but he is very dominant in certain way
Even in his everyday life he leans more in the soft dom part
Although being shy it's not a submissive type of shy but more like a really and utterly in love shy
Is very different from just his awkward normal self who let's other people boss him around
I feel like he would be the type of lover who you can trust enough to let him guide you and be the one taking the lead
He's just so gentle you don't even feel like he's the dominant one in the relationship
Like the line between being dom or sub with him gets really blurry cause he seems to know when he should be more or less dominant
But back at him being a menace in bed
He loves, absolutely adores the foreplay
To him is even more fun and fulfilling than the sex itself
He likes to build up the moment, to takes his time and make every part of your body feel special
He's very selfless, it may sound cliché and corny but all he really cares about is making you feel as good as possible
That's all he needs to feel satisfied
Definitely has a thing for overstimulating you into fucking oblivion
He has his ways to make you feel everything everywhere is honestly quite impressive how well he ends up knowing your body and where and what to do to get a reaction
About reactions this man secretly loves to fuck in front of a mirror or in front somewhere he can see both of you
Not in a Patrick Bateman type of shit (that feels more like a ghost thing tbh DON'T COME AT ME. I LOVE HIM BUT HE WOULD BE AN ABSOLUTE MENACE WHEN FUCKING)
He wants you to see what he sees which is the most perfect and beautiful human being ever
He has that lovestruck smile while looking at you through the mirror
Guys guys
He is packing, he is HE JUST IS. HE HAS BIG DICK ENERGY AND YOU CAN'T DENY IT
He's very open about trying any position you may find more comfortable or fun but his absolute favourite are you riding on top of him or hitting it from behind
Don't know how it's called but once he tries the one where you have to put your legs on his shoulders this man is gonna lose his marbles
LISTEN, HIS TALL. HE CAN'T MESS UP HIS BACK JUST FOR THE SAKE OF BEING HORNY
He's always checking if you're doing good but doesn't ask like "Am I HUrtinG you?" "ArE yOu OkAY"
No. No. No, okay?
We're talking about our very smexy King
He has this raspy and soft tone of voice when talking during sex
"Do you like it like this dear?" "Use your words liebling, I need you to tell me what feels good"
His voice hitches and sometimes breaks from how much he's trying to control himself too
Not a big fan of calling you names tho, it just doesn't feels right even if you say you're okay with it
Maybe I'm biased but I do think he takes his time in making you come first even if it means taking a little extra time
This man can't fucking stand still for the life of him, what makes you think he would get tired or not last long?
The aftercare? Amazing, not even just good or great nono, plain amazing
Focuses a lot on cuddles even tho, as I said, he's not super rough while having sex so the cuddles are just a nice extra time together to talk or just relax
Definitely falls asleep holding you close but not before making sure you drink some water
Somehow manages to always wake up before you so don't be surprised if you find him making snacks for the both of you while running a bath
He always makes sure both of you are fine and relaxed
Always uses a lot of words of affirmation to remind you how much he loves you and how great it was and as I said in my other hc he never says things he doesn't mean so
He enjoys eating you out like everything about it it's particularly satisfying to him and honestly it ends up being to you too
The way you brush your fingers through his hair while he is down, how he can grab firmly your ass and hips and listening to you enjoying it and asking for more drives him crazy
I don't think he masturbates that much, to him sex is not a like need like i said but more like a intimate and lovely moment between him and his partner
He doesn't sees the point in touching himself tbh
Like I said everything about you is perfection to him
He gets the most turned on when watching you getting dressed or just doing stuff like skincare ecc
There's something deeply arousing in you taking care of yourself to him
For some reason I don't think he would mind you tying him up
He trusts you enough and you make him feel the most safe so if you want from time to time to take control and do something different he's all about it
#könig cod headcanons#könig cod#könig cod mw2#könig x reader#könig#codmw2#cod#cod modern warfare 2#call of duty mw2#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty
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The Folly of Men -
Chapter 2: #78866B
AO3 - MASTERPOST
[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]
[I sacrificed Damian's POV for more time of Jazz, and everything jumps around a little, but I refuse to feel regret. Notes on the timeline are at the bottom.]
-
Two hours went by way faster than Jazz thought. Between gathering the emergency bags, counting cash, and raiding the lab, she barely managed to herd her parents out the front door on time. Luckily, the two doctors didn't put up a fight, so she still had ten minutes to lock up. Like she said, Jazz hadn't touched the portal besides locking it down. The portal's power supply had been re-routed to an emergency shield, blocking anything from getting in or out. As long as it was still on, that shield would hold.
Jazz blew a strand of hair out of her face as she sat on the front porch for a moment. The door was locked, she had everything, and her parents were waiting like scared kids for her a few feet away. All she had to do was arm the security system using the bug Tucker had sent her. It was relatively easy; she had to take off the casing to the alarm next to their doorbell and use a connector to plug her phone in. It took her a moment, admittedly. It wasn't easy to mash tiny buttons when her hands shook with adrenaline.
While she waited for the virus to load, Jazz glanced at her parents, watching them. They looked lost. A little guilty, perhaps? They both looked gaunt and had unshed tears in their eyes, looking positively miserable for all the world to see. They hadn't said a peep after she had stormed off. Not even when she came back to clamp 'Shade Shackles' onto their wrists, hissing something to them about behaving. The shackles were heavy and bulky, restricting them from their wrists to their elbows and locking their arms together.
The shackles wouldn't hold Jack for long, she knew. Not if he was actually trying to escape. But honestly, the man was probably worse off than his wife. He just kept staring into space, dissociating.
Jazz thought they deserved it. After a few more seconds of fiddling, her phone finally beeped, indicating the upload was complete. She unplugged her phone, packed the cord into one of her bags, and stood again to close the alarm casing. Shutters slammed shut over every entrance into Fentonworks. Maddie flinched at the loud noise.
"And now," Jazz muttered, picking up her bat. "We can't go back." The redhead swung like a professional, slamming her weapon into the alarm, setting it off like a loud pig. She took her anger out on the plastic, smashing the buttons and hardware to bits, sending wires flying. Even the brick beneath the alarm was chipped in many places. Well, if there was one thing her parents did right, it was make a decent bat. The creep stick didn't have a scratch when she finally stepped back.
Wiping sweat from her brow, Jazz took in her handiwork. Getting some extra aggression out of her system slightly cleared her head, and she smiled at the ruined building. The alarm was going off at max volume, and some of the floodlights her parents had installed a few years ago lit up the whole neighborhood with flashing red. If the Fentons hadn't had people’s attention before, they sure as hell did now.
"What'd you do that for?" Maddie said, horrified. Guess she was breaking her silence.
Jazz scoffed, turning to pick her bags up and sling them over one shoulder. "Because while I'd love to burn this place to the fucking ground-"
"You can't!"
"Shut up. It's not up to you, Maddie." Jazz spat. "And it's not up to me. Danny gets to decide what happens to Fentonworks. Whether you like it or not, this is his final resting place. I'm not going to rob him of closure."
Maddie snapped her mouth shut.
"Final resting place?" Jack finally returned to himself as he cried at his daughter's words. Thick tears dripped down his face. Jazz had never seen her father so distraught, not even when Vlad moved away to Europe last year. He looked heartbroken.
Jazz sneered, poking her father in the chest with her bat. "You heard me. That fucking portal, your goddamn pride and joy, is what got Danny killed in the first place. That lab is where he died in front of his friends because you two are idiots who refuse to follow any sort of rule."
"No, that's not-"
"Not what?" Jazz rounded on her mother, who shrunk back in the face of her fury. "Not right? That's not what happened? Is that what you were going to say?"
They were attracting a crowd. People were being drawn out of their houses by the alarms and shouting, staring at the two Fenton parents with mild distaste. Everyone knew their children put up with a lot, even if the doctors were well-meaning. Did they finally cross the line?
"It was hard for us too!" Maddie insisted. "All those late nights, his avoidance of us, how he looked at us! It was horrible."
"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU KILLED HIM!" Jazz roared. She was as red as her hair now, and the little ectoplasm that ran in her veins made the edges of her form blurry. As if she was a heat mirage. "YOU KILLED HIM, AND NOW YOU'RE KILLING HIM AGAIN BY HANDING HIM TO THE GHOST INVESTIGATION WARD!"
"Th-they just wanted to study him," Jack sobbed. "T-to avoid and prevent any ghost disease breakouts."
"BULLSHIT!" Her voice echoed down the street. It boomed unnaturally, drowning out the sound of sirens that were a few blocks away. A few neighbors were going pale as they realized the severity of the situation. "You two are doctors! You know how science works! You two built and sold weapons to them! Don't pretend to be ignorant and blame it on the fucking ghost flu."
"You disgust me," Jazz continued. She descended the steps and shoved past her parents. Maddie landed on the ground with an oof! "I hope I never have to see you two ever again." She adjusted her bags and started marching toward Nasty Burger, cutting through the crowd like she was fucking Moses. The police were a block away now. She didn't want to be there when they got to the house.
"Where are you going?" Her mother called. Pleaded, really. "We can talk this out!"
Jazz ignored her calls and walked on. When they spotted the murderous look in her eyes, everyone on the sidewalks quickly got out of her way. She had two minutes now, but the others probably wouldn't mind her tardiness. Her phone buzzed, and she snapped it open.
From: TheFuck
4:12pm yo ms evie just blasted ur rant 2 myspace and yt
4:13pm for an old lady she sure has quick fingers
4:13pm dani just showed up at nb we just waitin on u
Rather than replying, Jazz pushed the door to Nasty Burger open and beelined towards the trio's usual table. Tucker was glued to his phone while Sam and Dani mumbled, pouring over several sheets of paper. She tapped Tucker on the head, making him jump.
"I'm already here."
Tucker spun around. "Nocturn's starry underwear, Jazz!" He whined. "You could have just texted me!"
"Didn't feel like it," she shrugged, suddenly feeling very tired. The restaurant was mostly empty, so she threw her stuff into the booth beside them and slid in next to Tucker. The Fenton creep-stick was rested against the edge of the table, acting as a warning. The others had already set aside their bags and weapons in the other booth. Not a single Nasty Burger employee came over to tell them they couldn't have swords at the table, so Jazz didn't bother thinking about it.
Danielle, her free-spirited youngest sister, glanced up at her with a weary smile. She looked rough. The wind had tangled her shorter hair, and her clothes seemed horribly displaced and damp. (She'd passed through a tropical storm half an hour ago.) Dani was swaying where she sat, desperately trying to stay engaged with Sam even though exhaustion was no doubt clawing at her mind.
Jazz felt her mood soften. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that Dani was only a few years old by human and ghost standards. While Danny was also a baby ghost, he had a lot more stamina as a human to make up for it. Flying from New Zealand had taken its toll on the girl.
"Here, Danielle, switch me." Jazz stepped out of the booth, guiding her little sister to sit next to Tucker, who wouldn't mind if the girl fell asleep on his shoulder. Dani didn't protest and conked out almost immediately, soft snores being the only indication she was alive. Sam nodded her greeting and shuffled some papers Jazz's way.
"Here's everything so far," she stated. "We're doing this on paper until Tucker can set up a server."
Jazz flipped through the pages. Each one had a little tab in the corner sticking out so things wouldn't get mixed up. The pages were even color coordinated, just how she liked it. She scanned through sheets of numbers, reports on agent activity, stolen research, manufacturing contracts, and so on. Everything she saw was dated back at least a year, and Sam had taken the time to highlight the discrepancies between all the paperwork. It was the very definition of thorough.
Time for business, I guess, she thought. "To start with, how's the town?"
Tucker got right into it. He turned his PDA around to show her the screen. A tiny map of the town was displayed, with red dots pinned to random spots. "All the monoliths Danny set up are primed and ready. They'll tap into the ley lines in the area to power the ghost shield we set up. I'll set it off when we leave the city borders."
"I called Cujo and Wulf," Sam added. She had a paper version of the town map with more random spots marked in green. "They are rounding up the ghost animals, and I got Grandma Ida to scare a few more human ones into helping. Some of the A-listers are doing a sweep to drive out anyone who stays behind."
"What about the GIW equipment?"
"Dash is getting his football and baseball teams together. Wes is going to load them with a virus before they smash it all to bits."
"Teenage boys are always destructive no matter the species." Jazz remarked dryly. Sam gave her a Look, but she ignored it. Yeah, she was being hypocritical. Who cared? "How's the tracking going?"
Tucker patted the sleeping Danielle on her head. "Thanks to a little miss, I got a lock on his ecto-signature much faster this time. But his aura is big, and we'll still need to raid at least four locations before I can pinpoint him."
Jazz sighed in relief, tilting her head back. Everything was falling into place, and soon, Danny would be safe by her side.
-
Danny woke up with a knife in his chest.
He choked, breathing in the air for the first time in a while. He couldn't feel a heartbeat, but the knife was too close to his core. It was too close to his fractured core. The weapon twisted, digging itself deeper, and he screamed silently in fear. His limbs spasmed, knocking into whoever was standing over him and throwing them across the room with a thud.
Free of the pressing weight, Danny rolled to the side, dropping to the floor and scrabbling at the knife still in his chest. Fabric was tangled with his legs, making it difficult to stand. Had he been placed in a bed? He jerked the knife out, letting it clatter to the ground.
Danny keened as precious ectoplasm leaked from his chest. From his core. Flaps of skin that hadn't healed yet tore back open, ripping fresh scabs and making him lightheaded. Half-formed organs were trying to slip free of his body, and he could barely scoop them back in. His fingers felt thick, and the task seemed endless. What if his core slipped out? How would he know? Could he catch it?
Was this how Dani felt when she was melting? He briefly wondered. A sob tore its way out of his throat. God, everything hurt so much. He tried to inhale, to breathe through the panic attack, but his lungs were either shriveled from disuse or missing. He couldn't breathe. Oh god, he couldn't breathe. The fabric felt like shackles against his legs, stiffing and trapping him further as ice crept through the room. He couldn't feel his lungs, he couldn't feel his heart, he couldn't feel his core. His core was here; he knew it. Where was it? Where was his soul?
Danny curled in on himself, letting go of his skin in favor of shoving a hand into his chest, searching for his tiny core amongst all the ectoplasm and body parts. It was like trying to find a ping pong ball in a pool of Oobleck. The base of his head felt heavy, and he just wanted to cry even more than he already was.
where is it where is it where is it
His body shuddered as Danny started folding in on himself. The heavy feeling got worse. Bones slipped from his joints and pressed oddly against his skin, making it poke out in strange positions. He screwed his eyes further shut as he kept reaching past his ribs. His fingers were ice cold and sent shocks up his spine, making him spasm again. Flimsy organs were slipping past his arm; he tried not to pierce them as they landed back onto the floor with an ugly splat.
Danny kept crying, even as he felt the tips of his fingers finally brush his core. It was ice cold, colder than his skin. He could feel a deep crack in the surface, and he mourned for himself as he pulled his arm back out of his body. He wanted to scream so bad. To yell. To wail. To call for his family and friends and heal in his haunt surrounded by love.
But he didn't have any of that right now. His parents had given him away to the GIW, saying he just needed help, that he just needed to be fixed. That he needed healing. His haunt wasn't safe anymore, and Sam and Tucker had to stay behind to protect the other ghosts. Jazz wasn't even home the last time he checked. And now he was somewhere new, having a meltdown as he lost more blood than he cared to think about. He felt so goopy.
Danny's ears twitched as footsteps rushed towards his room. Was he underground? Everything was echoing. The person he'd tossed sat patiently against the far wall, probably staring at the mess he'd made. He was still whining in a high-pitched kind of way, which was his version of a ghost sob. The door burst open, making him flinch, but he was too weak to defend himself with ice. Danny could only lay there and try to pull himself back together.
-
"The boy is awake."
One of Ra's messengers bowed deeply to him, eyes cast to the floor. The papers he'd been going over were forgotten as he shoved them aside and focused on the messenger.
"I heard he was not due to wake until his organs regrew." Ra's commented lightly.
The messenger's frame tightened up a fraction. "The Demon's Thumb has returned," they intoned. "And has decided to greet the new Demon's Heir."
Ra's hummed, standing up. "I suppose I should have expected this. News does travel quite fast these days." He gestured for the messenger to lead the way, and they stood to do so. The walk from his main office to the medical wing was short as more of his retainers gathered around him. Dr. Vanessa, a thin woman with a vicious fire in her eyes, rushed to join his little circle as they passed the research hall.
"I apologize, sir." She seemed harried, if not a little ticked off. "My calculations must have been off. I-"
"It was not your fault, doctor." Ra's cut her off. "My granddaughter seems to have stopped by for a visit and wanted to pay her respects to the new heir, it seems."
"Ah." Dr. Vanessa's anger at herself vanished, and her face was carefully blank. "In that case, I shall adjust the boy's treatment plan accordingly."
They said nothing else as they approached the boy's room, admittedly at a quick pace. The bind around Ra's heart was urging him forward, to be faster and be by the boy's side when he awoke. The mere knowledge that the boy was in danger made his blood boil as his body revolted against this mind. By the heavens, he couldn't wait for this contract to be fulfilled. He hated magic so much.
Turning the final corner, a loud, keening cry assaulted everyone's ears. Dr. Vanessa flinched. A few guards pulled out their weapons, adopting a more defensive position. Ra's could barely stop himself from rushing through the group during the last few steps. He grits his teeth as another opens the door.
They were treated to the sight of a frost-covered room. The boy was on the floor, tangled in his blankets as he tried to shove unfinished organs, which was a gaping hole that led to nothing. Lazarus water was leaking from his body in copious amounts. His skin was practically translucent, and Ra's could spy his bones shifting unnaturally underneath it all, creating strange angles and planes that did not belong to a human. The boy's eyes were screwed shut, and he was crying even more Lazarus water, but Ra's would bet that his eyes were glowing that same bright green. The keening noise seemed to be coming from him, even though his mouth was shut tight.
Ra's glanced around again. A knife was on the floor next to the boy's head, covered in his blood. Mara al Ghul, his granddaughter and leader of the Demon's Fist, was sitting against the far wall with thick sheets of ice covering her from the neck down, trapping her in place. She was still wearing her mask, so Ra's couldn't see her face, but he knew she wasn't happy. Foolish girl.
Dr. Vanessa glanced at him. "May I approach the patient?" She asked. Ra's nodded his approval, and she cautiously stepped forward, trying to avoid the puddles of bodily fluids.
The doctor knelt, and she adopted a soft look to soothe the boy. "Hello, young man." Her voice dripped with honey. She reached out to tap the boy on his shoulder. "My name is Dr. Vanessa, and I'm-" She got cut off as soon as she made contact. A flash of light blinded everyone, and suddenly, Vanessa was encased with ice. She was essentially a statue now, still with a sweet look on her face.
Interesting. Ra's thought. One of his attendants moved the frozen doctor out of the way so he could walk forward, stopping right at the edge of the Lazarus water.
"Boy," he ordered. "Listen."
The boy's cry petered off at the sound of a human voice and he cracked his eyes open, staring straight at Ra's unblinkingly. He warbled something in a language that grated on everyone's minds. Ra's understood him, though, and switched tongues as easily as he would clothes.
"Boy," he repeated. His voice cracked, and Ra's could feel his granddaughter's burning questions engraved into his back. No one had heard him speak like this before. However, the boy finally opened both eyes wide, which he counted as a win. His interest was piqued. "Boy, listen to me."
The boy's mouth didn't move as he replied, "Hurts..."
"I know. But you are hurting others, and hurting yourself. Let us help."
The boy shivered. "Hurts. Can't. Pain."
"My people will not harm you," Ra's promised. The weight of the promise hung in the air like a bird, and the boy's eyes widened. Making promises in the tongue of the dead was a serious thing. "Calm yourself, and let us help you into bed. You are losing lifeblood. We cannot help if you freeze my people."
A humorless laugh was his reply. "Already dead." The boy informed him. "Almost dead again. It hurts. Please?"
Ra's motioned for the assassins to pick the boy up. He squeezed his eyes shut as hands touched his body but relaxed as one of them handed him his liver like it was a stuffed toy. The ice in the room started melting, releasing the two ladies from their bonds. The attending nurse quickly got to work collecting all the extra things that had fallen out of his body and placing them gently back inside the boy's gaping chest like he was playing Operation.
Once he was situated with all his goopy organs back in his body, the boy tried apologizing to Mara and Vanessa. "Sorry for the cold." He rasped.
Mara glanced at her grandfather, who didn't bother to translate. "I will be informing Mother Soul of this development," she said stiffly before turning and marching out of the room, two assassins at her heel. Dr. Vanessa was likewise escorted out to be taken care of.
Ra's stepped closer to the boy's bed. He didn't pay any mind to the blood, Lazarus goop, and now melting ice that stained his robes; they could be replaced. But he needed answers. He needed to figure out how to get out of this deal with the Gardener. And he needed to know how much power one child could offer him.
"Child." The boy looked lazily up at him. The effort of being awake was taking its toll. "I am Ra's al Ghul, the leader here. May I have your name?"
"Mmm." Some of the boy's bones shifted as he wiggled around, trying to relieve the weird pressure pressing against his skin. Ra's reckoned his whole skeleton might be out of place. "Call me Phantom," he eventually hummed.
Ra's knew that wasn't the boy's true name, but he'd work with it for now. He simply inclined his head in acknowledgment, watching as Phantom started nodding back off to sleep. Oh dear. He couldn't let him rest yet; Ra's needed answers.
"Do you know why you are here, Phantom?"
The boy licked his cracked lips, but still couldn't use his voice. His words were just echoing into the air like he was projecting his thoughts for everyone to hear. "No..."
"You were given to me. By a being who called themselves the Gardener. I am to take care of you."
"In exchange for what?" Phantom was struggling to stay awake. But he instantly caught onto the double meaning, which proved he had a brain somewhere.
Ra's considered his words. "Power," he said simply. "I care for you as if you were my own, and in exchange, you would be the key to granting unimaginable power and knowledge."
Phantom wrinkled his nose but seemed to accept that answer. "Undergrowth is so shady sometimes. But I'll acknowledge the deal between you two. Let me take a quick nap, and then you can let me know what you need..." He trailed off as sleep finally claimed him.
The Demon's Head wasn't pleased that the conversation was cut short, but the bind around his heart had loosened its noose, and he felt it was unavoidable. Now that his foolish granddaughter was out of the way, he would leave and return later. Phantom, while boyish in nature, seemed quite mature once he was lucid enough to talk. Perhaps Ra's wouldn't regret making him the Heir.
-
Jazz was getting antsy. It had been weeks, and they still hadn't found Danny. Raiding GIW bases with just the four of them took a toll on the group, especially since they kept losing supplies (like her beloved creep-stick, RIP). A few times, Danielle had to fly off and keep the peace in other cities, as the ghosts were finding different ways into the mortal realm now that Amity was shut off from the world. She'd taken up Danny's name as Phantom and was exhausted from flying across the country constantly. So, really, it was mostly the three of them.
Luckily, Kitty and Johnny showed up recently, and Dani got them to spread the word about Danny's disappearance and the group's country-wide manhunt. No ghosts had shown up since then.
"We're here," Tucker snapped her out of her thoughts, pulling her to an instant stop. This was one of the four bases Tucker had narrowed their search to. They'd destroyed the other three, gathering evidence and doing what was necessary to defeat the agents inside. And now they were standing in front of the final one, deep inside Yellowstone National Park. It looked like a rest stop with a bathroom, but Jazz knew that the compound was actually underground and most likely ten times the size of the shack.
Sam wrinkled her nose. "This place looks abandoned," She noticed. "At least the others had a front going on. I don't want to ride in a dirty bathroom that's really an elevator. I'd rather go back and fight those creepy clown performers from the pizza place."
"I can just phase us down." Danielle offered.
Jazz shook her head. "Nah, you need to save your energy, kiddo. Who knows how deep this one is."
Tucker crouched, fiddling with his PDA. "This spot does have a front," he told Sam. "It's a rare geocache spot. The only hint for it online that I can find is a shitty riddle that was posted, like, last week."
"Oh, what is it?"
"Uh, here. It says:
Below the keep, just six feet deep, lays a weathered path, born from wrath. A white beast rests, who troubles his guests, so find the key, and beware the banshee."
Danielle snorted. "You're right. That riddle sucks. Who wrote that? Skulker?"
Jazz smiled but considered the words seriously. "I mean, it seems pretty literal if you know the context behind it. Why not search for the cache and see if it has a key?"
"Good idea."
With that plan in mind, the four split up to scan the terrain. None of them had ever been geocaching before, but it was a popular tourist activity around Amity. It shouldn't be that hard, could it?
The answer was yes, it was. The group searched for an hour before Tucker finally gave in and sat on a log to take a break. The log promptly crumbled in half, and Tucker shouted in surprise as he landed ass-first on a hard tackle box.
"Oh, come on!" He groaned. "This log isn't even made of plastic! It's cardboard! Who makes a geocache out of cardboard?? It literally rained last night, my ass is wet now!"
Danielle giggled for the first time in weeks. Jazz ruffled her hair, earning a swat of protest, and then walked over to help Tucker to his feet. Sam swooped in to claim the first dibs on the box as soon as he was clear.
The lock was no issue for her as she simply bashed it open with a sharp rock. Sam seemed eager to find more clues and crowed triumphantly when she dug out a key card still attached to a GIW lanyard. "Fucking finally!"
"Good job, Sam." The four gathered around the tackle box. The card seemed legit, right down to the near-invisible security numbers engraved on the back. Their enhanced eyesight allowed them to spot that detail, which was a blessing when sniffing out fake leads.
Dani shot up excitedly. The fact that they were so close to finding Danny renewed the spark in her eyes. "I'll go look for the entrance!" She sped off, turning invisible to avoid any inside cameras. She found it within minutes, and returned to share the good news.
It was, indeed, in the tiny bathroom.
Sam groaned. "I need to learn to keep my mouth shut."
"I'm fine with that, honestly. You loud-mouthed mother-OW!" Tucker stumbled through the doorway to the bathroom, too slow to avoid the whack Sam had given him.
"That's 'loud-mouthed BITCH' to you," she scolded playfully.
The eldest shook her head and ignored them. The bathroom truly was tiny, and hadn't seen the loving touch of a mop in years. Spiders were making webs in the corners and Jazz was pretty sure something had been using the toilet as a litter box. It looked awful and smelled even worse. A smug look from Danielle told her that the girl had simply stopped breathing, and therefore didn't have to deal with the scent of actual bear shit.
She ignored Danielle, too. Jazz could feel her little sister's smugness radiating as they searched everywhere for the secret card scanner. Jazz couldn't stop her organs at will yet, and the twins always took full advantage of that to mess with her. They eventually figured out that the empty soap dispenser was what they were looking for, and the scanner beeped when they swiped the card. The whole room started to shake as they moved down.
Sam and Tucker stopped their petty back-and-forth as they heard the grinding of the elevator cable. "When was the last time this was used?" Tucker sounded alarmed.
"Probably when they built it." Sam grimaced at the sight of the dirty toilet water moving and pointedly moved to stare at the wall. "I want to set myself on fire right now. This is so gross."
"I'll hand you the match."
"I will douse you in gasoline, Tucker."
"Not the time, guys!" Jazz glanced at the ceiling, where she imagined the cable would connect. It squealed and screeched, but eventually, the world's worst elevator trip came to an end, and the one wall with nothing attached to it split open to reveal the pristine tunnel of a GIW facility. All four of them bolted for the hallway, and not just because they were eager to start trashing the place.
"Danny better fucking be here because I do not want to ride that thing ever again." Gasping, Sam rested her arms on her legs, breathing in stale, underground air. At least it didn't stink.
Danielle giggled again (that was twice now!!) and changed forms. "I'll go scout ahead," she informed them. Jazz bid her good luck before she faded from visibility. She wasn't too worried about the girl. Dani had her radio and knew to avoid GIW sensors as a ghost.
Tucker lay on the ground, staring into nothing while they waited. "My ass is still wet," he commented after a few moments of silence.
"No one needs to know that, Tucker."
"Too bad. I might get a rash from this. Did you know I ran out of underwear last week? I'm on my last pair, and now I'm gonna get a fucking diaper rash from them."
Sam gagged. "That's disgusting. Don't tell me this shit. I'm cursing your bloodline just for that."
"You gotta tell me these things," Jazz chided. "I would have gotten you a new set."
Tucker waved his arm in a 'whatever' motion. "Eh, honestly, it isn't that bad right now. I've done worse. Danny and I once tried to see how long we could go without showering or changing in middle school. I went two weeks before my parents hog-tied me and hosed me down in the front yard. Danny managed to go a full month before you did the same."
Realization struck Jazz and her eyes widened. "That's what that was about? Oh my god, he was yowling like a cat when I caught him, and it took three rounds of shampoo just to wash his hair! He's never forgiven me for it!"
"Sounds about right." Tucker shrugged. "I promised him a ticket to the observatory if he won, but you caught him the day of the showing, and he missed it."
"Why don't I remember this?" Sam demanded.
"It was right before y'all moved to town. It's the incident that caused the 'Fenturd' nickname."
Jazz put her head in her hands and groaned. Sometimes, she really wanted to smack her brother.
Danielle popped back into existence, making all three of them jump. Her mood had drastically changed, and she seemed really uncomfortable. "As interesting as that story is, and I definitely want to hear about it later," she said nervously. "This whole place has already been raided. There's no one here except a couple of soulless bodies. And an open portal. Someone was here before us."
All three shot up. "Lead the way," Jazz demanded. Everyone ran down the still-pristine hallway. Barely any dust had settled, and none of them smelled blood. Who had gotten here first?
They slid to a stop before a big metal door. Dani ducked through it to open it from the other side, and everyone was assaulted with the smell of rotting bodies and days-old blood as soon as it started moving. The door was literally so thick it had trapped everything inside. Including some agents, it seemed. A few bodies were pressed against the door and fell toward them when it opened. Tucker screeched and jumped back.
Sam, a true crime girlie at heart, crouched to examine the closest one. "Their fingers are worn through, almost to the bone," she noticed. "I bet if we closed the door again, we'd find scratch marks."
Dani floated above the corpses. "Yeah, it looks like something cut off all the exits and hunted them one by one."
"But what killed them?"
Sam toed a body until it flipped over. The eyes of the agent had been ripped from their skull, and frostbite warped their skin so bad she couldn't tell what their original features were. Danielle floated closer to Jazz, looking highly uncomfortable. "Danny's ecto is all over the place," she whispered. "He was definitely here."
"Right." Jazz hardened her heart. She was here to find her brother, not feel sorry for brutally mutilated government agents. "Let's get going. Stick to the battle buddy system, and keep your comms on."
They proceeded cautiously, only touching a body if it blocked their path or to find a key card. Tucker remarked that if this was a horror game, he probably would have played it, but living it was so much worse. Every single corpse had its eyes removed, and it was starting to wear on Jazz's mind. Dani mentioned their souls were gone, too.
Eventually, after some detours and backtracking, they reached the labs where Danny would have been held. Rage filled Jazz's chest as she saw ectoplasm mixed in with the bloodstains. A table had been set up to restrain a ghost with specialized handcuffs that had FENTONWORKS printed across them in bright green letters. Shattered glass was scattered across the floor and a few organs were decaying quite rapidly. A scientist was slumped across the table, a small knife still in hand. Jazz kicked the corpse.
Without Danielle telling her, she could feel it. This is where Danny had been tortured. Probably vivisected, too. Those were his organs that were rotting on the floor. His blood stains the ceiling. She was seeing red. She wanted to scream. Her baby brother had been tortured by these horrible people, and she didn't even get to kill them??
Danielle tugged on her arm, quietly bringing her back to herself. "The portal," she reminded Jazz. "It's in the next room."
"Sam, Tucker, see what you can recover from in here." Jazz gritted her teeth and let Dani guide her away from that room. "Dani's gonna show me the portal. Scream if you need us."
"Be careful!" Sam called back.
They left the room, going two doors down to what looked like a near-perfect copy of the Fenton's lab. She stiffened as she spied the portal. It wasn't set into the wall like the original but rather floated a few feet in the air in front of it. It looked like a tear in reality, similar to something Wulf could make, but on a much larger scale. She felt dwarfed by it, and dreaded to think about what could come through a portal this size.
Dani pointed out some blinking computers, the only ones still with power inside the entire compound. "They were working on a new portal," she said. "The Fentons sold their research. I'm not sure how we missed it, but they were really close to getting it figured out."
"This isn't from the GIW?" Jazz asked, gesturing to the behemoth of a disaster still swirling next to them.
"No, I don't think so," Danielle zoned out. Her eyes glowed, and she looked at things Jazz couldn't see. "This was opened from the other side. I think someone broke in, took Danny, and left after killing everyone."
"Someone from the Ghost Zone?" Jazz frowned. She bent over the computer, trying to click around for security footage. "But who do we know that is strong enough to kill everyone so physically? Vlad swore to never interact with us again, even if it was life or death. Undergrowth would have left plants behind, Nocturn doesn't like killing in the mortal realm, and Vortex can't sustain himself underground. None of the normal rogues are strong enough, either. Unless they got Desiree to help?"
"Nah, she may be a bitch, but she refuses to participate in murder of any kind. Plus, she's a neat freak. This isn't her work. It isn't Ghost Writer either; he doesn't like writing horror stories."
"What about Frostbite or Pandora?"
Dani wrinkled her nose. "Maybe? Frostbite is a pacifist who is more likely to rescue Danny without killing anyone. And the portal is too small to let Pandora through. She could've sent her warriors, though."
"It was Danny."
Jazz glanced up from the computer. Sam and Tucker were standing in the door, looking pale.
"We pulled recordings from the labs dating back two months. Danny was the one who killed everyone."
"...Pardon? It's only been a few weeks since he disappeared."
"I don't know." Tucker frantically typed away at his PDA, pulling up the downloaded footage and shoving it in Jazz's face. "But it's definitely him. I pulled their files, too. They were looking into time travel, Jazz. The day Danny showed up in their records, Operative K and Operative O were also logged in, even though they were 100% still in Amity during that time. They suddenly added on the time travel stuff a day later."
Jazz zoned out, numb to Tucker's near-hysterical rant. She just watched the tiny screen blankly as Danny was tortured over and over again but refused to give up the secrets the agents were asking for. Every time he refused, he was punished by having his organs taken away and put into jars for study. Then he'd be pumped full of pure ectoplasm, and just like Prometheus, he was back the next day with fresh organs for harvest. The dates in the recording went back weeks. Way before Danny disappeared.
Dani sobbed and looked away from the screen. Jazz couldn't even blink. The turning point in the experiments was when they brought in a little girl, a human girl, in front of Danny. The girl was about five, probably homeless or kidnapped, with pretty blonde hair done up in pigtails. Jazz noted she had been crying and had the number '27' pinned to her shirt. Danny was wary, sure it was a trick until he spotted something off-screen that they couldn't see. He jerked forward, straining to reach the girl, panic in his eyes.
But he couldn't reach her. Two scientists simply wrote down some observations before nodding in the same direction Danny was looking. Without asking a single question, the agents killed the little girl in front of Danny.
Jazz's hands shook as tears filled her eyes. Danny, her sweet baby brother, looked on in horrified shock as the cameras switched. Agents dumped the girl's body in a barrel of ectoplasm and waited patiently until a blue wisp rose from it. Then, using a Fenton peeler, they zapped the child's soul without mercy. Normally, the peeler stripped the disguise off a ghost to reveal their real form. But to a fresh soul as weak as that?
Her soul was burned into nothing.
Danny started screaming and imploded in on himself like a star.
The camera blacked out for a few moments, flickering between glimpses of her brother and blackness. She barely recognized him. His form had warped into something unrealistic. Something straight out of a movie. He was impossibly large now, barely able to walk on two legs when he stood amongst his broken restraints. His chest was a gaping cavern, and when he turned towards the camera, she could spy his tiny core exposed to the world. It was acting like a black hole, pulling at Danny's own skin and flesh like it was trying to suck him in. It was beautiful and strange in a horrible way.
He was too fast for the camera to really keep up with, but Tucker had doctored it to slow down each frame. Danny's face was splitting in two from a silent scream. His hair was flowing wildly, falling over his body, so it looked like he had a white, shaggy cloak.
His hunt never stopped. He didn't slow or hesitate to pounce on everyone he saw. His body was stained red from the gouging of people's eyes, which was the fastest way to reach a human soul. The group watched in horror as Danny leaned over his victims, opening his splitting maw even wider and devouring every soul he could, ensuring that they wouldn't even get peace in death. The churning of his core was getting worse, and at some point, he was spreading ice with every step he took. It looked like he was really struggling to stay standing by the time a few scientists were the only ones left in the compound. Jazz was afraid of what would happen if he collapsed completely. Would his core devour him?
At some point, the cameras really did die, and the screen went dark. Jazz realized she was crying, and moved to give the PDA back to Tucker.
"There's more," he shook his head. "But we didn't watch that far ahead because an outside force added it when I downloaded everything."
Like he said, the screen crackled back to life after a moment. The group realized it was from Danny's point of view. All the agents were dead, and he was stumbling through the halls in a daze, unable to keep his bigger form. He finally made it to the room they were in now, probably drawn to the familiarity of the lab layout. Before he could reach the unfinished portal, however, the freestanding one opened and out stepped a very familiar figure.
"Clockwork?" Jazz muttered, surprised.
As if hearing his name, Clockwork looked directly through Danny, straight at her. "The flow of time has been disrupted." He said softly. "I'll take our young Guardian here to a safe place. We have much to talk about, Miss Jasmine. You, too, Samantha, Tucker, and Danielle. I'll see you soon."
Then, the older ghost's focus switched back to Danny, and it was like he'd never spoken to them at all.
"Daniel," he coaxed. "It's time to go."
Danny groaned but stumbled forward and passed out in Clockwork's arms, promptly ending the video.
Silence descended over the room. Jazz could hear blood rushing through her body, and her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She thought over what they'd found in the facility, about the state of Amity Park, her parents, and most importantly, her brother. About how he was tortured to the brink of insanity and how he still found it in his heart to love others. To protect them. To care and grieve for someone he'd never met. He must be feeling so much hurt.
Deciding on the next step was easy.
"We need to find Clockwork."
-
[I realized the timeline is kinda confusing, and I promise it'll all match up in the next chapter, but here's a chart on what it looks like right now so it's easier to understand.]
[The top one is the timeline Ra's and the rest of the DC characters are on. The middle is Jazz and the others. Danny is separate from both timelines right now because of the Time Medallion that Dan forced into his core. Right before the start of the story, which is marked in bright colors, Danny and the agents he's traveling with get involved in a time anomaly and are transported two months into the past. The agents still take him to the Yellowstone compound, but the incident makes the GIW speed-run their research on the Ghost Zone and, now, time travel. The timelines sync up again when Tucker finds the video from Clockwork. The total amount of time that has passed since the start of the story to the sync-up is about three weeks.]
#pondhead writes#dpxdc#the folly of men fic#long post#really long post#why did i decide to do multiple POVs#living my worst life rn#lemme know if i made mistakes#i'm posting this at two am cause fuck it we ball
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Ghoul maybe it’s bc I’m acespec but I’ve always related the most to betas and have always felt that they should be the rarest and not alphas or omegas (I also hate the idea of rare meaning that people may only know like one, 1% of a million is still 10,000)
You're totally valid in this my love, I am saying that right out of the gate. I love when acespec folks weigh in on kink and fic tropes like this because y'all provide such an interesting perspective that I (as an allo person) don't have.
I think this is one of my issues with traditional a/b/o as well. The way that betas are treated and categorized feels very much not only as a cultural other, but also as sexless. Which is great for acespec folks, but also makes me wonder about ace omegas or ace alphas.
I am firmly against any endotype being considered "rare" simply because again I view it as a sliding scale.
Lets say this is the Alpha-Omega scale with Alphas as yellow and Omega as blue. A "true" beta would be that nice green in the middle, but really anyone could be anywhere on this scale. Betas would range from high spectrum(leaning alpha) to low spectrum (leaning omega) and similarly omegas and alphas could be "low spectrum" meaning they lean more towards beta. It's just the amount of each hormone you have in your body.
I don't think sexuality is tied to any one endotype the same way I don't think sexual proclivities are. Omegas aren't all bottoms, alphas aren't all tops. Everyone has a heat/rut cycle it's just how strong it is, and just like in normal humans it's a miserable hormone addled experience for some, and a breeze for others. There's no reason an omega or alpha couldn't be ace, heat/rut doesn't turn you into a sex crazed animal, it's just the point of time when you're most fertile. It's ovulation, or a period, or idk what it would be for amab folks. The time of your cycle when you're moody and just want to lay down for a week.
Back to my issue with betas in traditional omegaverse fic. They've always felt like just... the other ones, the normal humans. It always felt to me like an exclusionary designation, and that just doesn't sit right for me. It's saying "well you're not a top or a bottom so I guess you don't matter." AND AGAIN it reduces a whole subset of people to a stereotype. I fucking hate that, let people be people, let the human experience be varied and beautiful!
I don't see why any endotype can't be any thing. Alpha/Beta/Omega, whatever you are you're still a person with your own thoughts, feelings, sexuality, and gender. No endotype can be defined by any one thing, there may be expectations, but there are expectations on us now and we still define ourselves by more than that.
Ace Omegas who spend their heats with their friend because they need someone to remind them to eat and take their pills while they're laying face down on the floor with cramps. Who sit on the couch during their friend's rut and hold their hair back as they lay over the arm of the couch and try not to vomit because the hormones make their head spin.
Ace Alphas that get anxious about their roommate's heat because there aren't not enough blankets in the apartment and- no- you stay right there, I'm going to get you some soup. Ace Alphas that spend their rut crying at videos of kittens learning to walk and stealing their qpf's pillows because they're fluffier than the ones in their room.
Ace Betas that get side eyed when they sniffle during a movie because betas are supposed to be the unflappable ones, the ones that don't get emotional over nothing. Ace Betas that build nests. Ace Betas that spray their friend with scent neutralizer after a heat because they fucking STINK, shoving their friend in the bathroom to shower while they figure out cleaning up the house.
Idk. do you get what I'm saying?
#ghoul speaks#a/b/o#omegaverse#I feel like I'm a fuck...#like a political gender theorist in the omegaverse#like I'm on tv answering questions about fucking gender theory#also jesus christ I'm an omega by my own definitions#no one else would be talking this much about shit that isn't their concern#only an omega
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wip snip
Thanks to @academicdisasterfic for tagging me in their laugh-out-loud-i'm-deceased wip snip (Bottoms x Drarry, swoon).
I'm in the middle of three things right now. There's The Big Thing (wip snip below, you can skip the rest of this paragraph if you want) that I needed a break from. I'm at the dreaded halfway point were plot lines need to start actually making sense, and wanted to clear the cobwebs by writing some fun little side fics. Under 5k. Sexy. Easy. Next thing I know, I'm 10k deep in a Dreville fic about them falling in love and a Drarry hookup piece that somehow has me researching the cult of Apollo, Ezekiel's descriptions of angels, the Green Man, and Beltane rituals. Like, can't everyone just f**k in peace?
Anyway, The Big Thing is a Wolfstar fic ---Aftermath of October 31, 1981, Remus gets Harry and, whoops, Regulus is alive and supposed to help him. They hate each other, but maybe they can get along well enough to break Sirius out of prison. Maybe.
Also f**k Dumbledore.
Opening bit:
“No.” Remus tries to close the door.
“Remus,” he says kindly, and it’s almost more than he can bear.
“Go away,” Remus grits out, pushing the door, and it won’t close.
It won’t budge, and Dumbledore isn’t even holding it open on his side of the jamb. He didn’t say a spell either, the fucker, and the door is stuck open, unmoving, and nothing Remus does will change it unless Dumbledore wants it to change.
He realises in this moment that the door is a metaphor for his whole miserable life, stuck where Albus Dumbledore decides, but he can’t address that right now. It’s too much to contemplate after everything else, so he decides the least he can do is close the fucking door.
Remus throws his shoulder into it. He’s always strong, but his strength will increase as the frost moon approaches. His tall, lanky build belies the monster beneath.
“Remus,” Dumbledore says again quietly.
Remus ignores him and throws his shoulder into the door. The fucking door that won’t fucking close. He slams his shoulder into it so hard the frame rattles, grunting at the blow.
“Go away,” he growls. He feels it, the wolf inside. Always lurking but more insistent now. Since everything. “Go away!” Remus shouts and smashes into the door, almost splitting it. It hurts, but it feels good, too.
The damaged door still doesn’t move, and Remus is properly angry now. He’s been numb for days, ever since he found out…ever since…he squeezes his eyes closed and tries to shut out the memory of finding out about James and Lily and Peter. And—
“No!” he bellows, and he’s about to give the door one great shove when, suddenly, he’s yanked back as if an invisible rope is attached to his spine. He scrabbles for purchase, trying to grab hold of the hall table or the reception archway. He can’t get a hand on anything before he finds himself deposited on a sagging floral sofa, sitting upright but unable to move, arms pinned to his sides.
Dumbledore glides into the room after him, and Remus can hear the front door close with an offensive little click. He tries to wriggle out of whatever invisible binds he’s in and can’t. His wand is in his back pocket, useless.
He scowls as Dumbledore sits in a chair across from him, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. His blue eyes are red-rimmed behind his half-moon glasses, and he’s wearing a Muggle suit—brown plaid print and a bit shabby, a bit too large on Dumbledore’s thin frame. And that’s when it hits Remus—All of this is true. It’s not some nightmare he’s lived in for the last five days like he keeps hoping.
Five days. He’s been cooped up here in Milton Keynes, waiting for five fucking days. His arrival triggered the mora protocol when he opened the door. The protocol that meant they were compromised and to stay put. Don’t move. The Order will be in touch. And finally, after five days, Frank Longbottom showed up, his big eyes sad, and his voice low. He’d told Remus what had happened, and it didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be real. It was all a big mistake. Someone had made a mistake.
But he’s immobile on an ugly floral sofa, and he knows. It’s all real, and it happened, and it’s still happening, and Albus Dumbledore is wearing a brown plaid Muggle suit, and Remus’s life as he knows it is over.
Tagging @geesenoises @citrusses @tackytigerfic @arminaa8 @maesterchill @romaine2424 @skeptiquex if you have anything you'd like to share! No pressure!
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Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #1
(((TW: Mildly graphicly written suicidal thoughts and ideations - DON'T READ IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE)))
Pain - Narinder
Narinder didn't realize how much it would... Hurt.
To be free.
His arms hurt, his body hurt, and his head hurt.
As a god, he had never felt pain like this, which was the first of many signs that he was no longer divine.
And that terrified him. His arms hurt so badly he couldn't move them, and for a moment it felt like the ghosts of his chains still held him in place. His head ached from the light of the sun stabbing through the window of his home, into his light-sensitive eyes.
He can't move. His whole body feels like lead against the soft bed below him. Blankets weigh even heavier on top of him, adding to the feeling of being restrained. He wants to thrash around and escape from under them, but his limbs cramp up with every attempt he makes to move them.
And the jolt of fear that surges through him at that realization makes him want to scream out in agony and terror.
But centuries of captivity have taught him the uselessness of struggling. Have taught him patience. So he clamps his jaw shut and keeps his eyes sealed closed. Trying to listen.
He only just joined his usurpers cult as a follower yesterday, the adrenaline from their fight hadn't even left his system and suddenly the damn Lamb was showing him to his own private grand shelter, set up farther away from the other followers for 'safety purposes.' Whether the Lamb meant for him or the rest of the cult he still isn't sure.
He didn't know how to respond, he was tired. So very tired. He had never felt tired before, but this mortal body... He secured the shelter as soon as the Lamb was gone. Barricading the entrance, and windows, sealing himself inside before allowing himself to collapse into the bed and rest.
Now he's not sure how much time has passed, just that it is daylight, and that the adrenaline of everything that's happened has now left this newly mortal body of his in shambles.
Freedom. He had wanted it so bad, and now he has it, but it's nothing like he had hoped.
He is angry and miserable, he wants to scream and cry, and he wants to go back in time and wring that lamb's neck when he has the chance instead of handing over the crown to the filthy traitor. He feels like a fool, powerless, and afraid.
Trapped by something even worse than the chains his siblings had used on him. Pain.
Speaking of the Red Crown's new wearer, as if summoned like a bat out of hell, a banging on the dresser Narinder had shoved in front of the curtain door to prevent any other pathetic followers from wandering in, or worse the said lamb.
"Narinder! It's breakfast! Well- lunch, you missed breakfast, I tried to have Noon bring you some food, but they said you did... Well, this." Narinder can only assume they're referring to the barricade.
"Leave me be, wretched traitor, I have better things to do than mingle with your pathetic following over subpar mortal slop." His voice almost cracks when he tries to shift his weight to lay on his back mid-sentence.
Thus he remains on his side facing away from the entrance, his back to the sound of the lamb's voice. Something that causes a trickling of unease to build in his mind, which he tries his best to ignore for now.
"No-can-do! At least, not right now, you need to eat! You're mostly mortal now, and even if age can't kill you, starving sure can!" There's a nervous laughter in their voice as they continue to stand outside.
The Lamb could easily get through the barricade, with his fucking powers that they stole. So why they aren't just barging in with no respect for their former god and master's privacy or personal space, he has no clue.
"Starving? How pitiful do you think I am? 'Mostly mortal' or not, I will survive without food for a day. Now leave me alone." He's not sure that even if he wanted to, he could claw his way out to get food. Or that his violently churning stomach could hold it down.
His whole body feels like it's slowly spinning from the splinting pain of his head and he's certain that if his stomach wasn't empty he'd have puked by now.
"Okay, listen, I get that after everything that's happened, you want to be alone, and I'll leave you alone! After you eat something, because, sure, a day won't kill you, but when was the last time you ate during your godlyhood? I'm willing to bet never, at least not during your time chained up, and that can't have translated well to your new form." Nothing has translated well to this new damn form, and it makes him snap.
"What part of leave me alone don't you understand!? I'm not eating even if you shove it down my throat!- Ack!" He hisses and tries to, in a burst of anger-fueled energy, shove himself around onto his back.
Instead, the effort sends a cascade of cramping through his back and down his arms.
His body spasms and curls in on itself and he grits his teeth trying to stop the whimpering from escaping his lips. He sounds pathetic. He is pathetic. Fates save him from the humiliation of the lamb having heard his pain at least...
"What was that about!? Are you okay in there!?"
It's like the universe hates him.
That's the only real reasoning he can come up with. Fate, the universe, and everything in between literally hate him. And for what? Wanting to be more than what everyone told him he was?
He calls bullshit. Fate is bullshit, and the universe is bullshit, and everything in between is bullshit.
He wants to bury his head under his pillow and stay there until time itself brings this whole world crashing to an end.
"Narinder? Do you need help? If you don't answer I'm coming in!" Once more the Lamb is banging on the dresser-made door.
"I'm fine! Go away! Don't make me tell you again!" The threat comes out strangled and weak.
Still, there is a long moment of silence. For a moment he lets himself hope that the usurper has done as he's asked, and left, but with no footsteps away to confirm this, he knows they are still out there. Perhaps carefully debating their next sentence.
"... I know I'm the last person you want to see, let alone accept help from, and trust me when I say right now the feeling is mutual, but Narinder... If you are in pain... Or you're sick and that's why you're not eating, please, just tell me... I'm only trying to help." Help?
Help?
"I think I'd rather lie down and let you kill me before I let you help me." The words are barely a hissed whisper, but he knows they hear him.
There's a sharp inhale and a frustrated groan. Along with footsteps pacing back and forth before they suddenly stop and respond again.
"Fine! But news flash One Who Waits! This is going to be a hard adjustment for you! And if you want to go through it alone and make it all the harder, then fine! Be alone! Stay in your shelter all day, every day, and starve! See if I care!" They shout at the door.
Sounding angry, and fed up.
"That's what I'm planning on doing!" It wasn't, but with the pain making it hard to move, it is now.
"Fine!" And he can hear them storming off, hooved feet kicking at the ground at random intervals as they do.
...
It's true. He'd rather suffer here alone than accept that traitors help.
You betrayed them first.
He saved their life! His pathetic Bishop kin would have executed them if he hadn't given them a new lease on life.
And all he asked was for a cult in his name, for them to free him from his chains, and return the crown to him.
And kneel and accept being sacrificed to you.
All of this... This pain, this headache, the dampness in the corners of his eyes that he's trying so hard to not let spread down his cheeks... It's all their fault.
They should have at least killed him. Why couldn't they at least finish the damn job? That pathetic, traitorous, coward. Keeping him alive just to suffer.
Surely they've done this on purpose? This was some twisted way to prolong his agony as if being imprisoned for thousands of years by his own family wasn't enough torture.
Damn them. Damn them and every last one of their dead kin.
He would rather starve. Starve to death and at least go on his own terms. Hell if he had the physical strength and a sharp enough tool he'd turn it on his wrist right now. The Lamb probably won't even come by to check on him for a long while after that spat.
So at least they would have a small respite before the cursed creature maybe resurrected them.
But no, his whole disgusting body was failing him. He would have to die the slow way.
In a sick way, he's curious about it. What does hunger feel like? Heket complained of it often, even while she was eating she would be complaining about needing another meal prepared. The Goddess of Famine knew hunger like no other.
But the concept was foreign to Narinder. He ate sometimes when he was a god. The feeling was strange. Things tasted good, like fish, but they served no other purpose than to satisfy his tastebuds.
His stomach never longed for anything. Never ached in hunger pangs, never churned with nausea from eating something bad...
His mortal body... It will wither without food. His stomach will concave as he loses weight, and he'll become weaker, sicker, and lethargic. His skin will stretch over his ribs and bones making him look like a skeleton with fur... A horrific sight, befitting of the former and rightful God of Death.
A true testament to his fall from power, into a form as tragic as this, that decays at the mere lack of sustenance for a few days.
Or more. How long will it take? He wonders.
For his organs to start failing. His heart will go first, and the rest will quickly follow, having strained for so long to keep him alive... What will be the last thing he sees? Probably darkness. The light is too bright in the daytime for him to bear keeping his eyes open.
That's okay. He's never been afraid of the dark.
Kallamar was. He was scared of a lot of things though. Including him.
Heket wasn't. Nor Leshy. The two slept like logs at night, while Narinder would wander awake with Shamura- being nocturnal beings by nature.
Sometimes...
Sometimes when they were both still little, and Kallamar had a bad day and was scared to go to bed, Narinder would sneak into his room, and distract him. Annoy him really, but deep down, he thinks his older brother appreciated it. Not being alone.
It only lasted a few years though, just before the squid reached his teen years and became completely insufferable.
...
What would they all think of him now? Preparing himself to rot from starvation... Would they think him weak for accepting such a defeat? For giving in to this mortal body's suffering and allowing himself to perish in such a pitiful way...
Would they want him to live? No. No, they wouldn't...
They'd enjoy this... Seeing him turn to skin and bone. Watching him suffer in too much pain to even move, much like when he was chained.
It isn't until the light starts to fade and he can open his eyes finally that he realizes he failed.
And now the entire spot where his head rests on his pillow is wet with tears.
In the darkness, he can only really see what's in front of him. His head refuses to lift itself up or move without pain.
He is staring right at a window, the red curtains are closed, and it's blocked off with a turned sideways dark wooden table, but moonlight peaks in from the sides and top.
There is a side table. With a vase of Camellias in the corner. Just like the one Baal used to wear on his robes.
...
In the end, they all died for nothing, didn't they? The lambs, the Bishops, Aym, and Baal...
Everything he was trying to do... All of his elaborate plans...
They've all amounted to nothing.
It's then that another knock, soft and gentle rings through the room.
"Narinder? I want to... Apologize. I lost my temper earlier. It's just... Difficult to be nice to you. I mean, you... You know what? It doesn't matter right now. I've decided, that if you don't want to accept my help, I can't force you to. But, I still don't want you to starve, and I don't think you want to either so... I'll just leave some food out here for you. I don't really know what you like, but it's a fish bowl... Will that do?" The Lamb.
Narinder is thirsty he realizes, because when he goes to speak his mouth is dry, and he has to choke the words out.
"Fine... It's fine..." He calls, and he can hear them hesitating.
"Can I ask again if you're okay?"
"No." He responds much more firmly this time, his voice still gravelly.
"Right... Well, I'll bring breakfast tomorrow."
And they're gone. Footsteps softly fade away like a ghost in the night floating off to find a new victim to haunt.
...
Why couldn't they have just killed him?
~~~
The pain is still there when he wakes up again, and his mouth is disgustingly dry. It is early morning, and the light is not yet intolerable though, and he will take that victory for what little it is.
It smells like it rained last night.
Something about that makes him feel better.
Despite the oily feeling of his filthy fur, matted with blood and dirt. Despite his body still cramping with the phantom chains tightening around them like a serpent choking the life out of its prey.
Despite everything the smell of fresh, chilly damp air... Refreshes him.
He feels lighter. Cleaner. Content.
He takes a deep breath and for a moment... Everything is... Okay.
He opens his mouth, trying to breathe in the humidity of the air, hoping it will help with the soreness in his throat.
"I thought you hated the rain?"
"I don't hate the rain, I hate getting wet. My fur gets all heavy and takes forever to dry, and if I use a towel, it makes it all poofy, and the others tease me."
"I see."
"But I like watching the rain. And the smell of rain... It smells... Like the sky's cleaning the earth. Making everything as good as new again."
And then... Everything comes rushing back to him.
Like an anvil falling onto his chest, and it's hard to breathe as he chokes on a loud, surprised sob. Tears invade his eyes, flowing down his face onto the pillow.
Nothing is okay. That peace he felt... Just a cruel trick of his mind, making him forget.
A momentary respite before the world came crashing back down on him. He can never be content again. Never be okay or at peace.
He is angry. Frustrated. Grieving. Confused about what he's grieving. Their deaths? Their souls are trapped eternally in a hellish limbo, re-living their deaths so that they can feel the same pain he had felt for thousands of years... That's what he'd wanted.
For them to suffer.
And yet still his chest hurts and his lungs are heaving, and his cries are so loud he has to turn his face into the pillow to muffle them. Why does this anguish for his family that turned against him haunt him now?
It must be this body. This pathetic mortal body with its hyper-sensitive emotions, and non-existent pain tolerance. It's done nothing but weigh him down, dragging him below the waves.
Drowning him in sensations, feelings, and emotions he doesn't understand. Suffocating him in pain, and grief that he can see no end to. This form betrays him at every turn and it's not even been 42 hours.
At least he thinks it hasn't been.
Most of his first day is a haze, he remembers sleeping through the pain for the most part. Then arguing with the Lamb through the barricade. Then sleeping again.
After of course, contemplating his inevitable starvation. And after speaking to the lamb again...
"Can I ask again if you're okay?"
They're going to bring him breakfast soon. He doesn't know if they'll come inside and set it down or just leave it on the ground outside for him.
Would he even be able to go get it?
It's now that he starts to realize some of the pain has subsided. Everything is still cramping, and his head still throbbing, but with the smell of the rain and the growling of his stomach...
He's able to turn onto his back and only has to stop for a minute to grit his teeth and breathe for a moment. The fur around his eyes and cheeks is still wet with tears, and his chest is still heavy. He tries to focus on the smell of rain, but it does little to ease his thoughts.
All it does is remind him of simpler times.
Before the pain, and the headache, and the nausea, and the humiliation of defeat still burning through his veins.
It's getting brighter in the room, and he's able to take a deep stuttered breath as his eyes close to block out the painful light of morning. He should get the sniffling under control before the lamb gets here.
The last thing he needs is for that malicious sheep to know he's been crying- because Narinder knows that the damned creature is too old to still be considered a lamb. Has been since before the bishops ever went to execute them, but he knows his siblings never cared for technicalities.
Hell at some point they probably even started enjoying committing mass genocide of all sheep to prevent his freedom. Rams, ewes, and lambs, none were spared. All precautions taken to keep him locked away... They must have hated him so much to turn so ruthless. To become feared monsters, rather than beloved gods.
All to keep him caged.
By the time the sun has risen and the room is painfully bright, like clockwork, the lamb is knocking on the 'door' of the shelter.
"Narinder? Are you awake? I still don't know exactly what you like to eat, so I brought you a mixed meal. I see you didn't eat the fish, so I'll throw that out I guess..." They call, and he struggles not to groan.
He had kind of wanted that fish. He liked fish and it's been a long... Long time since he's had the chance to eat any. But what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't fucking move.
And he was still standing strong on not asking for help from his usurper.
He could move a bit more today though. He could at least try and sit up and eat... Then again, he doubts he'll be able to move the dresser out of the way to grab the food.
He could ask the lamb to bring it inside as a plan B. That doesn't count as helping him. Right? But does he want the lamb to see him in this state?
Absolutely not.
So he's back to plan A. Starve.
Sounds good enough for him. Or at least it does until his stomach decided to growl obnoxiously loud.
"See! I knew you were hungry! Please, just come take the damn bowl, I don't want to leave it on the ground, the bugs or birds might get it! Or Theeno. He steals food a lot. I'm working on that." So they are going to make another fight out of this.
"I'll come and get it when I'm ready! And if your damn follower tries to nab it then he can expect my claws across his face!" He hisses, and the Lamb lets out an exaggerated sigh.
"You're getting on my nerves, Narinder, can I at least just come in and set it down?" Hm. An opening for plan B... He still doesn't want the Lamb to see him...
He's buried mostly in blankets and pillows, so if he tosses his aching body back towards the window, he doubts the Lamb would truly get a good look at him...
And then your back will be exposed, clear as day for a second knife to find purchase.
He tries to shake away the insecurity, and it's not hard when his stomach growls once more. What's the worst the sheep could do? Kill him? It's what he wants anyway.
Is it?
He just barely holds in a painful groan as he turns back onto his side, curling even further into himself as he does.
"Fine. But I'm not getting up, move the dresser yourself." He calls, only mildly breathless, as he tries to steady his breathing again.
"Great! I was kinda gonna come in anyway if you didn't respond." Oh, if he could move...
He might take his chances trying to wring their neck.
Instead, he clenches his teeth to keep the anger from seething out and keeps his ears tuned into the sound of the dresser being easily shoved aside, the sound of wood grating against wood.
"Okie-Doki, I'll just put this right here. That okay?" He can feel their black beady eyes on him, with their burning red pupils.
"Whatever, it's fine. Make sure you put that dresser back on your way out." He grumbles, flinching only slightly when hears the lamb step closer to him.
At the clear sight of said flinch they stop moving.
"Of course. Anything else you need? Are you okay? I was thinking about building a few upgrades onto your shelter since you clearly don't plan on leaving, and I can see having to use the bathroom becoming a problem in the near future. And bathing."
Right. Of course, this body is going to need to use the bathroom. And even when he was a little godling, he needed to bathe regularly. He hasn't had a bath since before he was imprisoned.
Poor Aym and Baal. standing beside a god that reeked of blood and death for all that time. He had grown jaded to the stench of death, but he was still aware that it must not be pleasant.
"Do whatever you want, so long as you don't disturb me." It would make it more convenient for his solitude, and prevent him from having to bite the bullet and ask for help to be carried to the outhouses- because he was not going to shit himself anytime soon.
God or not, he had to keep some of his dignity intact.
"Right, no disturbing your wallowing, got it. I'll set to those renovations ASAP, I'll even do them myself so none of the followers accidentally annoy you and get killed." He snorts at that. Almost laughs.
"Wise decision."
And like that, his dresser is being pulled back into place, with what sounds like little to no effort.
...
His stomach growls again.
Now to get this body to sit up and eat...
... This is going to take a while.
#cotl#cotl lamb#cotl the one who waits#cotl narinder#cult of the lamb#cotl fanfic#cotl fandom#cult of the lamb fanfic#ao3 fanfic#fanfic writing#fanfiction#fanfic
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question can you infodump about your Little Guys (atbb) to me because ive been following for like a year and i still dont totally understand them past papyrus au. they are really cool tho
oh my god ok so. first off atbb is the acronym for my ask blog @ask-the-bone-boys that's been on hiatus for a little over a year now. it was born in 2018 out of the annoyance of everything au-centered being sans and also a way to explore how the classic "aus get stuck in the original universe" fic trope would go if it was somebody from the "original" story leaving their universe instead. and also an excuse to make papyrus miserable to be fully honest
also also im going to preface this by saying i ship selfcest and there is some selfcest in this story ok if anybody has issue with that then uh. oopsies (i can explain the way i view it at another time if anybody;s interested but im already gonna ramble like hell here so not rn)
with that groundwork laid im gonna put this under a cut lmao dont click this
for the sake of organization- part 1: RUSS
STARTING AT THE BEGINNING so some very basic backstory for this Undertale Papyrus specifically is that he and his brother are twins, they grew up bouncing around several foster homes until they decided to run away to live in the woods on their 14th birthday, where they lived in a bigass tent for three years until Papyrus got badly injured and they had to get help from the townspeople, who uh kinda unofficially adopted them and thats how "they just showed up one day"
then more time passed and around 3 years after getting to the surface Papyrus was booted out of his universe by Mysterious Circumstances. he got a very bad introduction to the multiverse because the place he landed was my own version of horrortale, undermunch. there he meets Spooks!
i have a whole side-fic where you can read in better detail how this goes but basically monsters don't turn to dust in this world and also Spooks is a cannibal, which Papyrus doesn't know until he realizes he was fed spaghetti made out of a rabbit monster. IN addition to that, Spooks has very different magic from other aus, that being it's pretty much all concentrated into a kind of blue-magic-venom that comes out of his teeth like a snake.
Long story short Papyrus has to escape from Spooks somehow, and that's how he learns he's able to move through universes by himself. It still takes him a while to learn how to without being in a life-or-death situation, but that's ok because almost every other universe he goes to after that puts him into a life-or-death situation :>
and then FINALLY he gets spat out into a variation of Underswap, where he meets Honey. this one's a bit spoilery because i haven't finished writing this fic yet BUT its ok because this will be so so so disorganized. anyway so Papyrus is scared of Honey at first because he's been getting completely fucking obliterated by the multiverse (his leg is broken and he's wearing a chest plate he stole from a different papyrus who died in front of him) but Honey is relatively patient with him and lets him stay on his couch on the surface. This is where Papyrus gets the nickname Russ!
Russ is dealing with a broken leg when he shows up in this universe, so he stays with Honey for a little over three months while he recovers from that as well as (some of) the multiverse traumas he'd been collecting up to that point. The main things that he still can't shake are nightmares, trust/attachment issues, and EXTREME food paranoia. he refuses to eat anything he hasn't prepared himself, and even that can be a struggle. Also, because of how long he spent without getting it properly treated, his leg never fully heals.
He starts getting really really homesick the longer he stays in this universe. It builds up over his whole stay, but only starts to get Very Bad after he gets the cast off of his leg. Honey's home is extremely similar to his own home, and sometimes just seeing him and his brother interacting with each other makes Russ upset.
OH I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT THE CODEPENDENCY ok so at some point Russ just starts completely clinging to Honey and Honey doesn't know what to do about it so he just kinda. unintentionally feeds into it and this turns into Russ sleeping in Honey's bed and blah blah blah eventually this becomes a problem for Honey because he doesn't know how to address Russ's homesickness and clinginess without hurting him somehow even though Honey is extremely stressed and actively burning out
Then Russ overhears Honey venting to Undyne and feels. crushed. And he reacts incredibly rationally! By avoiding Honey as much as possible! But it does not take him long at all to break down and the two finally have a chat about boundaries. They work out a plan together that Honey thinks will genuinely help and Russ thinks will get himself off of Honey's back. The plan is that they'll figure out how to control Russ's world-hopping ability and get him back home.
The idea is that if he's able to control when and how he leaves, he can control where he goes. Then, when he inevitably lands in his home, he'll pop back in Underswap and tell Honey how it went. Because he can control it! Of course!
Honey gives him one of his hoodies and a photo camera to remember him by. Russ tries to figure out what it was in the past that might have helped him jump universes, which was the desire to be just about anywhere other than where he was at that moment. So, he just, thought about going home instead!
And it worked! And he left Honey's universe! And then he realized he didn't land at his home at all! And when he tried to go back to Honey's universe, he went somewhere entirely different as well! And he never saw Honey again! Wahoo!
This is the point where he just becomes a complete mess I'm not gonna lie to you, he starts drinking even though he really really REALLY hates alcohol, he only eats enough to stay conscious, he gets into fights just for the adrenaline rush, and only stays in one universe long enough to confirm it's not his home before either leaving for the next one or collapsing somewhere and hoping he doesn't get attacked while he sleeps for two hours
then he lands in Edge's universe and this needs a part two now OOPS
#trousled rambles#EMPHASIS ON RAMBLES#atbb#undertale#papyrus#russ#wasnt gonna use main tags but you know what. the papyrus tag could use this kind of enrichment i think#glanced at it today and must've reported like 10 posts for spam in 15 mins#at least i put my long shit under a read more!!!!!!!!!!!!#ahem. anyway yeah it is slightly embarrassing that i have to break this into multiple parts but i put. so much thought into the lore here o#at least russ has the bulk of it so the next ones wont be so insane#i'll keep going in a bit but i think i need a break from typing and also to. eat somethjing lmao#edit oh my god i forgot ALL of the tws guys sorry#cannibalism //#broken bones //#eating disorder //#codependency //#alcohol //#self harm //#(not outright stated but he does deliberately harmful stuff yknow)#ask to tag
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38 for the dialogue prompt… maybe with some bart and kon?
also prompted by an anon!
38. "I'm going to be sick."
There are upsides to getting sent to New Orleans to deal with a surprise villain attack, starring Metallo. Like the pecan pralines from this one shop near the French Quarter that Wally has never shut up about since Bart's known him. Or the cajun fries. Or the beignets.
There are also downsides. Like the heat and the humidity. Seriously, how does anyone live down here? Running interference, and then helping with cleanup, has never been sweatier. Why'd that asshole have to damage so many buildings, anyway?
At least Café du Monde is still intact. Rob promised he'd buy everyone beignets and coffee when everything's settled, and Bart's gonna hold him to that.
...Except that right now, he kinda doesn't want to eat. Probably 'cuz it's so hot out. But it is kinda weird to not be hungry after a big battle.
Oh well. Shit needs doing, so shit's gotta get done, and Bart's gonna be a shit-doer. He chugs some tepid water from the bottle at his hip, grimaces as nausea pulses through his stomach, and starts to run again.
Five minutes later, his legs give out.
It comes as a shock: one moment he's moving some debris to free a couple trapped cars in an alleyway, and the next, his leg cramps up so bad that for a second he swears he's just gotten shot again, and he goes crashing to the ground before he even realizes he's falling.
What the fuck?!
Sweaty, exhausted, nauseous, in pain, and miserable, Bart gives up. Something's wrong, but he can't figure out what. Someone else can handle that; he digs his thumbs into the meat of his calf and whines, "Kooooon..."
A whoosh of air and a red, blue, and black blur drop out of the sky almost instantly. Kon, damn his Kryptonian genes, isn't sweating at all; his cyan gaze pierces right through Bart as he drops to his knees next to him. "Imp! What's the matter?"
Bart groans, stomach churning. His leg still hurts like a bitch. "I think," he says, "I'm gonna be sick." He whines again.
Kon's eyes widen. He reaches for Bart's shoulders to help him sit up, then hisses. "Shit, dude, you're burning up! Have you had any water?"
Bart nods miserably. Now why the hell is he shivering? That seems wrong. Uuugghhh, he's so nauseous. "Jus' a minute ago. Made me feel more sick. I don't think water's supposed to do that. It's just so fucking hoooot..."
"Oh, man. Okay. I think you're overheating, buddy." Kon exhales slowly; the air he blows out over Bart's face is blessedly cool, and Bart almost topples over from his precarious sitting position just trying to lean further into it. "Yup, okay. Gotta get you somewhere cooler."
"But... the cleanup," Bart balks.
"Dude." Kon gives him a disappointed look—aw, beans, that's his disappointed Ma Kent look. Bart would squirm under his gaze, if he wasn't so close to puking. "It's, like, literally a hundred and ten degrees out, and super humid, and you've always run hot even without strenuous shit like a villain fight. Muscle cramps? Nausea? Feeling faint? Classic symptoms of heat exhaustion."
As he speaks, he gathers Bart up in his arms; Bart whines again, just to reiterate that this sucks balls, but then a tendril of TTK works its way along his cramping leg and presses in against his aching muscle just right, and he shuts up instantly. Fuuuck, that feels good.
"What are you?" he mumbles, a full second or two late. "WebMD? Why do you know all that off the top of your head?"
Kon snorts. He blows cool air against Bart's sticky forehead again, rising into the air in a smooth arc (Bart appreciates that, because neither of them would have a good time if he emptied his stomach all over them both mid-flight). "Imp, c'mon. They programmed field medicine into my head back in the tube, man."
"Oh." Bart huffs. "That makes sense." He lets his head loll against Kon's shoulder as Kon picks up speed; the Mississippi River sparkles in the sun far below. "Where're we going?"
"Back to base," Kon answers. The air up here is cooler; Bart sighs in relief. "You're gonna sit in a cool shower, and I'm getting you some Gatorade."
Kon's always so good at taking care of him, Bart thinks. His leg already feels way better. Of course, he can't just say that normally. "Okay, mom."
Kon scoffs. "Excuse me for being a good friend who worries about you!"
"You're excused," Bart assures him, closing his eyes.
For a few moments, the whistling of the wind is the only sound. Then Bart heaves a massive sigh.
"Hey, Kon?"
"Yeah, bud?"
"I still want beignets later. Can you make sure Rob remembers?"
Kon's rumble of laughter reverberates through his chest as the clouds pass them by. "Yeah, Imp," he promises. "I'll be sure to let him know."
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All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. 2
Oh hello there! I'm finally done with the second part, the last few day i constantly fell asleep while rereading and editing, so there will bee errors. For sure. Happy reading! Also I have no idea where I'm going with this so bear with me.
Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of blood-injuries-torture, weapons, Graves being annoying. I guess spoiler for MW2, absolutely inaccurate plotline, it's impossible for Graves to be with us in this fic, but here we are 😁
Summary: Ghost gathered the whole team for a rescue mission that's the most important job he's ever done. A mission he can't fail.
Weapons. Check. Flash and frag. Check. Knives. Check. Rage. Check. Bloodthirst. Double check.
"Lieutenant!....Ghost?" Johnny's thick annoying Scottish accent seeps into his thoughts. When Simon looks at him he seeing the usual determination laced with a mouthful of concern. "What's the plan?"
Simon steals a glance at the nearby table, the blueprint of a makeshift mercenary base taunting him with it's lines, providing endless possibilities of a place to hold you hostage. If you are even behind those walls. He has no plan, at least a sane one. His plan is to march in there killing every man he's up against until he finds you.
He's a soldier damnit, he should communicate, but he has nothing to say. He can't fucking lead this mission, if he does, it'll fail miserably, and they'll all die while doing so.
Simon looks at Price, his face hiding behind the smoke of his cigar. A silent plead, the one Price never witnessed before. Not from Simon anyway.
Simon needs to give the lead away, to someone else, someone who he can rely on. He would trust Price with his own life, so yours is in perfect hands. His only goal is to reach you, and he can't do that while making sure everyone is in their place, following orders.
Price gestures for everyone to gather around him when Gaz finally steps in the room, completing 141 with all members. Except you.
Price shifts his eyes around the table, acknowledging all the eyes locked at him before starting the briefing. "This is our only lead, i don't have to emphasize how important this operation is. Approximately 67 hours have passed since the kidnapping, we get proof of life every 24 hours, that means we get a new update in 5 hours. In that time period our move is to infiltrate the building, find her, and exfil. This has to be done in complete stealth, in and out. With our last member."
Simon zones out, his mind flowing with Price's words. He can't think about anything but what horrible things you might go through at the moment. He remembers too well of his own terrors of captivity, the mere idea of the same brutality happening to you twisting his insides. He feels psychically sick, the required food and liquid that gives him energy turns upside down in his stomach.
He sees blood red, injuries, tears and dirt, body in agony, spirit broken constantly behind his lids when he closes his eyes. The faint breath when the camera was close enough to your bruised face.
Gaz is asking about Laswell, Soap is demanding action and in that moment Simon can't find comfort even in Price's confident voice.
He's gonna go insane.
In this line of work, this isn't knew. Held captive, being a prisoner of war, torture, interrogation. He's gone through all of them and more, and he's fucking frightened that it's happening to you as he stands there amongts his friends and brothers. Free, feeling the soothing heaviness of his weapon, gear strapped around his body, full with adrenalin in a healty and unharmed vessel. At this moment, you don't have any of that. And he knows how much you must hate it. He has seen you going through that while healing from that nasty chest wound months back.
That faithful bullet near your heart was everything for him. A breaking point, the end of the world, an invisible force pushing him towards you. That bullet made him sit beside your hospital bed, saying silent prayers to whatever higher power that can help you breath life back into you. That bullet made him confess his feelings, openly, withouts distractions and detours. He said you mean everything to him, and he was happy that you lived to hear him say those words. He never ever will regret anything he said, more like regretting not saying more.
He needs air. He needs to get it together before he lunges into a possible suicide mission. He leaves the room without a second look, or a word to his teammates.
Breath Simon, just fucking breath, the mantra repeating itself in his brain.
The air is fresh, but it's stained with the scent of iron. He feels the smell of blood in his nose non-stop, he's certain it's just him, just his head taunting, laughing. You couldn't simply protect her, you swore to keep her safe, and how that turned out? At this point, he can't trust his own mind, everything in his head is altered from agony and wrath.
Mind switching from shame of feeling bad for himself to the guilt of his part in this shitshow. In one moment he's gnawing himself for ever letting his guard down, letting himself to be comfortable enough to be able to be found by Graves, in the other his whole head is filled with your shallow breath in that video. He's eating his own mind up, running in circles, consuming his good parts, leaving nothing but a white skull behind. A ghost with nothing and everything to lose.
*
"Do you remember that day?" You scoff. It's ridiculous to have this conversation with Graves. So light, so casual. Everything feels surreal.
You aren't tied to a chair, your limbs are free to move, in fact, you could simply run for fucking freedom. But you know better, the room is already crowded with Graves's men, the hallway was full of them, to be honest you saw at least 20-30 men since the blindfold was lifted from your face. And after mentally noting your minor but painful injuries, you are certain you have no chance to just run for if, most likely that's why you aren't restrained in the first place.
"i was occupied with a bullet in my chest you know." You can't help but sound bitter.
He smiles, a smile you saw millions of times back in the day, when you considered him a partner, an important person in your life. This body is just the vessel that is familiar, the man you knew is gone for a long time now. You aren't hurt anymore, you passed that months ago, but you see on his face he's not done with whatever he harboured from your shared past.
"Yeah, sorry I forgot." Fucking piece of shit.
"So what now Graves? You are hurt 'cuz the blast did not kill you at the end, and you have to live looking like fucking Quasimodo? What are you gonna do about it, huh?"
You are fed up. Fuming. What's his point? Revenge? Maybe, he was never the vengeance kind of guy. Soldier's aren't like that. But he's not a soldier anymore, is he?
"When I stepped on your front porch, I knew I'll find someone inside. Someone who isn't Riley. Fuck, i was prepared for any other 141 member despite i deemed Riley way smarter than that. But shit, finding you snuggled up in his bed." He smiles with venom, enjoying and hating his words at the same time. "When did that happen Darling?"
"Urghhhh. Holy shit Graves, that's what you really care about?" You bury your face in your hands, not feeling the need to watch his every move. He is still cocky and arrogant. You giggle with a wince when you graze a deep cut on your jawline. "Shit, are you jealous?"
His face breaks into a grimace. He stands up from his spot, after hours of not moving from the chair in front of you, talking your ear off with threats and pointless words. He stops in front of you, so close it sends a chill down on your back. His breaths fans over your ear when bends down next to your face. "Don't worry, he seen everything that happened to you." He suddenly halts in his words, for a dramatic pause, or something else you don't know, but it's way more unnerving than anything he has done so far. "In fact, he's already here to save your ass. Let's find out how prepared he is."
No way. It does sound possible and completely impossible altogether. If Simon is here, he's here for you, bit he might not be prepared for a trap they lured him in. And he will be march through the door with Soap on his side, undoubtedly. And if they do, this asshole will have everything he wants in one place.
Graves backs away, eyeing you up and down, looking at his work proudly, eyes glinting with anticipation.What can you possibly do to help Ghost and stay alive while doing so?
"Oh I know that look. Don't think too much darling, your head will hurt. You can't do shit." You feel dizzy, head throbbing, pain raging inside your skull. You feel more and more disoriented. You lose focus for a moment, and that's enough to lose him from your sight. The next thing you know, you almost fall over with the chair, Graves's arms the only support you have, his body pressed harshly against you without shame, invading your senses with his presence. You hear his voice close, too close.
"Everything you feel now is just the start. Get yourself comfortable on this chair, memorize every tiny detail of this room, count the steps you hear outside of the door." He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your scalp in an attempt to get your full attention on him in between you losing and regaining consciousness. "I'll wait for your precious lieutenant to make an appearance, so I can lead him to this very same chair your pretty ass is sitting on, show him the wood drenched with your blood before I serve your head on a golden plate."
He lets you fall back in place, only your lucky landing of your legs keeping you upright on the chair. Your body is exhausted, battling with the pain and adrenaline. You are going to pass out at some point, and you are oh so fucked if you do.
"When he arrives, he'll bring your precious team, right to my front door. Every one you is going to die here. You'll be the first one."
"What do you think will happen if you kill me Philip? Hm?" He stops midway to the door, his back stiff, muscles twitching underneath the vest. The burn scars apparent on the back of his neck, probably snaking down to his torso. "Are you even capable to murder me Phil?"
He stays rooted, just standing there, waiting for you to go on. Or to be silent. His next move is depending on what you are about to say, how far you are willing to go. "I have known you for years. I worked, lived with you, i watched you take down enemies from distances that no one ever thought about doing. You trying to make me believe you couldn't do the same from a neighboring building with clear sight? Aimed at chest when you had a perfectly fine vision on my head? I bet you didn't relized i don't have a vest on, am i right? You can't feed me this bullshit Philip. I know you too much to believe it."
Maybe his men believes this tale, hell he might forced this truth on himself too, but you are no fool. And his quick steps out of the room proves you hit the nail on the head.
*
Taglist: @galagcica @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @afro-hispwriter @cabreezer0117 @5seastar @v-v-x-x @multitargaryen
#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine
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September 27th, 1996
Dear diary,
I fumbled.
I fumbled and almost made the wrong turn and I could have died.
I could have died on the spot and it would have been less awful.
It's so embarrassing I can barely think back on it, but I can't stop. It keeps playing through my head again and again.
Everything started so great - the gymnasium was loud and colorful and bright, and everything I love about game days.
The gymnasium was crowded too - every student and teacher, and even some of the girls that graduated last June. Hell, mom and dad were there. Of course they are there when I mess up! I wanted them to see how good I was getting, not fumbling around like a complete idiot!
I really don't know what happened; I've never made a mistake like that ever. I'd been so looking forward to it, working so hard to make sure I knew the routine by heart. I should have been able to do it in my sleep.
I just managed to keep it together until the game started up again and I could sneak out into the hallway. I'm sure at least one of the girls saw me leave, but they know I usually do this when I fuck up so they let me be. I haven't needed to since Freshman year - I've been working so hard exactly so this wouldn't happen again.
I still don't know why I do it. Obviously it's better to hide, where no one can see me until my skin stops itching and I stop feeling like everyone is staring at me. But I also know it's counterproductive. I know it just makes me sink deeper into my failure, know that I'll just be miserable and alone if I run away. But I can't stop it - I just can't stand being around that many people anymore.
The last time had been at an away game - some school closer to Chicago that I can't even remember. The best I could do there was some alcove in a dark hallway. At home I knew where to go. It had been a while since I had gone out there, but the bench on the far side of the building was still there, far enough from the gymnasium that it was always quiet and empty. No one wandered far enough from the game to find it.
It was starting to get dark, the sky a deep purple, which was nice but also strange. Usually it's already fully dark out, and it feels like there's more cover. I still felt too exposed now, even sitting there curled up with my arms wrapped around my knees. I'd forgotten my jacket.
"There you are." I jumped at the sudden voice, not expecting anyone to have followed me. Even if I had, the last person I would have expected to see was Mike. He was slightly out of breath as if he'd had to run to catch up to me. I hadn't even noticed he was at the game, though it stood to reason he wouldn't have sat with the other teachers just yet.
He came to a stop in front of me, suddenly slightly awkward as he looked me over. "Hey."
I honestly didn't know what to say so I just stared at him, baffled he was there in the first place. No one ever followed me. And suddenly Mike had appeared out of nowhere, blipped into existence when I had spent the last few years trying to forget he even exists. He's not supposed to exist - just a negative space in the last seven years of my life.
"I know you're not a fan of me but-," he started, fumbling over his words as he inched closer to the bench. "I just wanted to check up on you."
"I didn't even know you were here." I frowned, swallowing against the knot in my throat, my voice shaky even to my own ears. I wanted him to leave. I didn't want to be alone. "I thought you had plans this weekend."
"Uh, yeah - the party's back in town. Well, everyone except Dustin because he has some conference or whatever, but... uh, yeah, we were planning to come to the game. We wanted to come see your show. El and Max are here too. Lucas tried but he's not really a fan of basketball anymore so he left early..."
He rambles a lot, I noticed, sounding nothing like he does when I overhear him talking to just Will. In class, he rambles a lot too, but at least there he's doing so with purpose, knowing what he's saying and when to stop. It made him look awkward and out of place, as if it's me that's making him nervous. As if I'm not just the little sister that's nine years too immature for him, shoved into the corner of the room with a pile of dolls so I'm out of the way.
"Great," I told him, my misery finally making me cave and scooting over to make space for Mike on the bench. He seemed surprised, hesitant still to join me, which I had to admit was kind of funny. Still, I sobered up again quickly enough, a shiver running through me at the memory. "At least one person that didn't see me completely humiliate myself."
"Come on, Holzie." Mike nudged my shoulder, and I was thrown off guard by the new nickname, pulling my attention away from my spinning thoughts. "It really wasn't that obvious. I noticed at least two girls that were out of step the entire routine - you made one tiny mistake that no one will remember."
"It's that I made the mistake at all," I corrected him, and to my dismay and complete mortification, my voice cracked. "I'm not the best if I make stupid mistakes like that. And if I'm not the best I'll never make cheer captain and I'll just be one more girl on the cheerleading team that no one really-" cares about is what I was going to say, but luckily I cut myself off before I could finish. I know it's stupid. Know everyone is important. There's not a girl on the team I wouldn't miss - but that's because they're my friends.
For once I want people to notice me for me. I want to make a mark to people that don't know me at all. Want people to see me, notice me, because of me, not because they already know about me.
Worse, I started crying in front of the last person on earth I wanted to cry in front of. The only person in the world who I've spent my entire life trying to convince I'm not a baby anymore. There's just something about Mike that always makes me feel younger than I am. Inadequate.
"You will," Mike assured me, "no one works harder than you."
I was confused what made him think that. How he would know. It's not something I like to advertise, and it only made me cry harder. Because that's the point - I have to work twice as hard to be half as good as everyone else. Everyone else gets it with the six hours practice we have a week - they're flawless, make no mistakes at all. It's just not fair.
And I'm so tired of trying to catch up.
I desperately tried to wipe my tears away as quickly as possible as we sat in silence for a while, Mike leaning closer and handing me a tissue he pulled from his pocket. For some reason, it always helps me stop crying once I can wipe my face dry, physically putting myself together, so I was grateful even if I was completely embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, I used to be good at this," Mike chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as he nudged my shoulder again. "It's been a while."
If he were, I don't remember it.
I told him we should get back inside, even though that was the last thing I wanted to do. But Daniel was still playing, and I couldn't stay gone from the team forever either, so I sucked it up. I just hoped I could stop by the bathroom to make sure I didn't look like a complete nutcase - which was a terrible idea because of course I did, now I just knew exactly how fucked I looked.
Before we entered the gymnasium Mike stopped me.
He told me he'd seen me practicing on the field sometimes.
After everything I seriously couldn't be any more embarrassed so I just shrugged and confirmed it, even though I was confused as to where he was going with it. I also hadn't considered anyone showing up early being able to see me, so it was good to know for the future.
"I know I can't tell you what to do but... please don't practice without the team - at least not the crazy gymnastic jump things." I blinked at him in surprise, perplexed at his request. It's not like I was in anyone's way or bothering anyone, but he explained it was dangerous and didn't want me to fall and get hurt with no one around to get help. And it didn't feel like a scolding - I mean I felt stupid for not having thought about that myself, but for some reason i didn't care about any of that.
I promised I wouldn't anymore, and as we entered the gymnasium I automatically searched out mom and dad. Dad was watching the game, but mom is usually bored by the game itself, so it wasn't a surprise that she'd been looking out for me, immediately noticing us by the door. It stood to reason she'd already deduced Mike had been at the game too, but she seemed content to wait for the dinner to talk to him again because she just smiled at us before looking at the game now she knew we were okay.
Mike asked if I wanted to come sit by him and his friends for a bit. Now I knew to look for them I found them easily enough in the left top corner of the bleachers on their side of the court - Max was the most obvious with her bright hair, and from there it was easy to find Will and El sitting on either side of her. I know El the least out of all of Mike's friends, which I've always found strange because I'm pretty sure they dated at some point and before Mike and Will had moved back, she'd been the one hanging around Hawkins the most often. Even from that far away I could see her expressive features, and she hadn't had those pink streaks in her hair the last time I'd seen her. They suited her.
I'd like to talk to Max again, thank her in person for helping Mike pick out my birthday present, but of course, even if I wanted to take Mike up on his offer, I couldn't, having to go sit with the rest of the team. I could already see Dylan smiling at me and beckoning me closer, so I just dismissed Mike. I thanked him though, because even though he hadn't been much help in making me feel better, it had been nice that he'd followed me. That he'd sat with me.
Maybe tomorrow I'll get my sense back.
For now I'm too worn out to be angry.
At least I think writing has helped me calm down enough from my embarrassment to sleep.
Love, Holly
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Secret admirer elriel!!
A/N: I feel like I don't fulfill enough elriel prompts, which is ridiculous considering how much I love them. Thank you for sending in your prompt! I hope you enjoy. x
I may have to make a part II for this one...
Warnings: language, alcohol
~ Azriel ~
It's Valentine's Day and I'm sitting at home alone, drinking. There was a point when I would have thought such a thing would be pathetic as fuck, but now...
Well, you hit your mid-twenties and you're single long enough, and suddenly drinking at home alone on Valentine's Day doesn't seem so bad. Cassian and Rhys are both out with their girlfriends, leaving me alone in the townhouse we share until sometime tomorrow. So here I am, sitting on the couch in nothing but my underwear. Not that none of us have ever been on the couch in our underwear while the rest of us are home, but it's a little more freeing when you're alone.
I take another shot of whiskey to shut my thoughts up.
10 Things I Hate About You is on the t.v. and Julia Stiles just poured her heart out to Heath Ledger, may he rest in peace, in the middle of a classroom. I turn the station. The Notebook is on, and Noah is building Allie's dream home even though she's already moved on with her life. Imagine loving someone that much.
Imagine.
I take another shot.
My phone vibrates from somewhere in the couch and I'm slightly embarrassed how long it takes me to find it.
Elain's name pops up on my screen. After swiping right, I see her text.
Which awful romcom are you subjecting yourself to this evening?
I chuckle and toss out a lie. Don't do romcoms. Watching Gladiator.
Three little dots pop up and I stare at my phone, awaiting her reply.
I know that's a lie. I'm watching 27 Dresses. Classic.
Too cliche, I reply. At least have a drink with it.
She sends me a picture of a full glass of red wine. I send her one of my half empty bottle of whiskey.
OMG, I can't wait to text you in the morning and see how miserable you are. Drink water.
I send her a middle finger emoji.
She sends me one back.
I grin foolishly to myself. Why aren't you out tonight?
She has options, I know she does. Men follow her around like loyal puppies, fawning over her beauty and bright demeanor.
She doesn't reply for a minute and I suddenly feel like I've pried too much. I take another drink.
My phone eventually vibrates. Thought it was better to stay in. I've spent too many V-days debating all the ways I can sneak out of a restaurant lol
Fair enough. I'd hate to be the guy that bores you that much.
You could never bore me that much.
My thumbs hover over the keypad, wondering how I should respond. It's almost like she's flirting. I take another drink.
Elain and I have been friends for years, since her sisters started dating my roommates, my best friends, my family. We've always just been friends, though. Never anything more. Even though I've always wondered if there could be something more between us.
The fact that she's sitting at home alone on Valentine's Day saddens me. Maybe it's the alcohol. Alcohol always makes me feel more, even though I'm sure it's meant to have the opposite effect.
We'll see about that, I reply, at last, and throw myself off the couch. Even if Elain has vowed to spend the night alone, she should at least know that someone cares about her.
And I do. Care about her.
It takes me about ten minutes to toss on a pair of sweats, a hoodie, my shoes, and grab my wallet. The nice thing about Velaris is I don't have to drive anywhere, and in moments like this where I should never get behind the wheel, I'm grateful for the city life.
There's a floral shop on the corner and not only are flowers the most Valentine's Day-like gift known to humanity, but Elain loves flowers more than anything, so I spend the next half hour walking to the shop and looking around.
The shop is nearly empty, but considering what day it is, that makes sense.
I make it out with half a dozen white roses, two tulips, and a lily. An interesting bouquet, but a bouquet nonetheless.
My phone vibrates the second I'm in the back of my Uber.
Sorry, I ordered takeout and got really into the eggrolls. Didn't mean to leave you on read.
I chuckle, earning a look from my Uber driver in the rearview mirror. Never apologize for the power of eggrolls. Some things we just can't control.
Damn, I'm drunk. The second I hit send, I'm regretting it.
She responds with laughter, though, so I guess I can't complain at my stupidity. I text her back with, Eat one for me. I ate half a box of Cocopuffs for dinner.
Five minutes later, we're stopping in front of Elain's apartment complex. I ask the Uber driver if he has a pen and a piece of paper, to which he gives me an old, crumbled up receipt and a broken pencil.
It works.
Elain texts, Cocopuffs? You're the only man I know that survives off cereal that was made for children.
I reply, Just because you got takeout doesn't mean you can be judgmental about my dietary choices.
I jot down a little note on the back of the receipt before I can think better of it and hurry up to apartment 3b, where I leave the flowers and the note on Elain's welcome mat before I knock on the door and run away, back toward the elevator. I nearly trip as I enter the small, compact room, and nearly fall over once again when the elevator starts moving down.
I didn't stop to see if Elain opened the door.
I feel like I should be nervous, but I'm not. I thank the alcohol coursing through my veins. I can imagine the smile on Elain's face as she opens the door and sees the gift left by her secret admirer. I hope she likes it. I hope it makes her smile. I hope it makes her feel less alone because no matter what she says, I know she's bummed to be at home alone on Valentine's Day.
It's not until I'm back home and back on the couch in my underwear that I realize Elain never texted me back. I can't tell if that's a good thing or not.
I'm thinking not.
Suddenly regretting every decision I've ever made, I take another drink.
#elriel#pro elriel#modern au#valentines day fic#valentines fic#friends to lovers#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#drabble#dabble#elain#azriel#elain x azriel#azriel x elain#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acosf#acofas#tara answers prompts
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