“What do you want?” Scott asks as he stares at the lawn just in front of the porch where he and Theo are sat.
Here we go again. “For the last time because you idiots keep bringing it up,” Theo starts saying while rolling his eyes. “I’m not planing on backstabbing you or killing you, and quite frankly I don’t want to part of this pathetic attempt of a pack.” Look, Theo gets the worry and concern, but at this point it’s beyond frustrating trying to repeat over and over again that he is in fact not up to anything.
It’s quite shocking even to himself, that he’d somehow became a normal— as close to normal as he can get anyways— person in the last few months. A rehabilitated murderer, Liam likes to call him. Domesticated was used more than once by Mason.
“That’s not what I asked” Scott responds with a softer tone, his eyes crinkling slightly; an effect of the gentle smile he offers. “What do you want?” He asks one more time.
The question continues to ring in Theo’s mind on loop, because truth be told he isn’t really sure anymore. He knows what he wanted before. What the past him who was fuelled by anger and passion, and an insatiable need to be something—to be someone— outside of the dread doctors puppet wanted. He knows he wanted the power that came from pack, but somewhere in the deep scars of his heart, he wanted to belong. That had always been the goal, even if he’ll never admit it to himself.
The whole alpha thing wouldn’t hurt either, and from his life experiences, he didn’t know any other way to get what he wanted. Between being a failed science experiment, or a make believe version of a boy, Theo never really had the time to make friends or even learn how to do so anyway, so it’s no surprise that his perception of companionship was to be viewed through the lense of hierarchy and control, rather than loyalty and trust.
But that’s all irrelevant,because from the moment Kira’s sword struck the ground and Theo rose from the dust of his personal nightmare, his entire life would never be the same.
Now though? What does he want? He’s never genuinely been asked that before. Scott asks him like it’s a simple question but here Theo is, having a midlife crisis over it regardless.
Theo doesn’t believe he has the right to want; not after his past actions since he’d met the dread doctors. And more importantly, what he wants isn’t something he can have. Someone he can have. No matter how many sleepless nights he spend staring at the roof of his truck, thinking of ocean blue eyes and soft strands of hair he wishes to run his fingers through, he knows he’ll never have that. But oh does it comfort the hallow feeling in his chest.
An angry beta who he always finds himself being around, intentionally or not, like he’s some compass and Liam is always north that he points to. Theo finds him like a moth finds a flame. Like it’s natural, almost. He’ll always find Liam just like he did in the elevators or during the wild hunt, and Liam will always find him. But still, Theo will never get to have him.
Maybe he doesn’t get to have Liam—not in all the ways he wants him—but that will never deter from taking whatever Liam gives him, no matter how small. He’ll have to make do with what he gets; just like he always has done.
After what has definitely been the longest moment of awkward silence he can remember, Theo finally responds. “It doesn’t matter.”
Scott shakes his head, mostly to himself rather than at the dissatisfaction with Theo’s answer. “You and I both know that’s not true.” Neither of them says anything after that for a moment, and instead let Scott’s words linger in the delicate vacuum that had formed around them since they started talking.
Eventually though, Scott stands from where he sat next to Theo on his front porch and starts to make his way back into the house. Though just before he steps forward to shut the door, he turns around one last time to Theo. “You really should tell him. He deserves to know”.
(I don’t know why I wrote this tbh and Idek if it makes sense. Either way I thought I’d just post it instead of leaving it in the drafts lol. I know no one’s gonna see this, but I just had to. If I made typo, no didn’t)
*also this is the first fic snippet I’ve ever written so be nice pls 🤠
UPDATE= I finally got around to writing the rest of this on ao3 (the things we won’t let ourselves say)
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The biggest misconception in the bsd fandom ever to me is people constantly portraying Atsushi as someone who trauma dumps excessively when he canonically barely talks about it at all.
The entire point is that Atsushi does not talk about his trauma he’s just constantly thinking about/reliving it. He can’t escape the memories of his past so he tries not to acknowledge them.
He only mentions it when asked, either directly or when someone asks him to explain himself.
Atsushi doesn’t even give a cohesive explanation for what he saw while under Dogra Magra, he just apologizes to Haruno and Naomi.
If Lucy hadn’t had her whole “you’ve never suffered the way I have” spiel then I doubt even the audience would’ve gotten to find out about his scars
If Akutagawa never asked him how it felt for the orphanage headmaster to die Atsushi would have never told him that he’s been hallucinating.
In the omake where Kyoka asks him why his hair is like that it’s clear he wouldn’t have told her that unless she had asked.
In 55 minutes Atsushi very briefly mentions sleeping on a dirty floor somewhere to Kunikida because he was trying to explain and justify his behavior.
And the thing is that there are scenes that implies that the other characters see Atsushi behaving strangely and are visibly confused because they do not understand what’s wrong with him.
Remember, we as an audience get to see things about characters that the main cast doesn’t. Just because we see into Atsushi’s mind doesn’t mean the other characters know what’s going on in there.
Also little footnote here that I think the scenes with Lucy and Akutagawa in specific are probably references to the moon over the mountain but I digress
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People joke about ADHD all the time, even swear up and down they totally think they also have it, but then if you ask for an accommodation, to please please please provide things in fucking writing, EXACTLY what they want and need, you will even work it out WITH them, like they promised they would do — repeatedly over and over, and then you don't get it people really will fucking be like:
I am using the incorrect bathroom (TM) to place my shelving and store my things. Homegirl literally removed various sundries and toiletries from a CLOSED CABINET and SHELF because she's interested in boundaries and accountability for my mess.
I said months ago I wanted to improve things for her comfort level and needed a written list of what precisely that fucking looked like in order to achieve it and not miss anything she deemed important. I explained how ADHD works, why I needed a written reference. Why I had to have it laid out, and if something needed changing we needed to write it all out. I would've made the list myself, but they said they would make it for the whole house to hold up their end of things. And, thinking this was a very reasonable adult solution to keeping the house in good shape, I said okay, come up with the list of expectations and what is needed and that way we can update how we handle chores. Awesome. I will do that to uphold my end.
No list ever gets made or drafted or anything despite my bringing it up, knowing we need to do it, but I DO get berated for failing to meet expectations and boundaries that were never fucking provided or delivered and include "don't store toiletries in this particular bathroom because I don't like it."
I can't believe I am a goddamn adult who gets treated like an idiot child for expecting adult communication instead of snide ass passive aggressive bullshit and basic respect for my things.
Because when I fucking get home, my shelving has been removed and a cabinet emptied of my things and placed in the "correct" bathroom.
🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃
Oh shit she solved it, this doesn't look cluttered at all!
What a vast improvement to storing things in appropriate storage!
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I've found the JPGs of an old OC doodle dump lost to "Accidentally-cut-my-file-in-half" I did on my tablet a while ago, and I don't really have any other stuff to post right now, so wellll here you go.
...Just so you'd see the type of OC bullshit my brain was on like three years from now.
~Lo and behold, my technicolor acid trip~
I'm not even gonna bother trying to elaborate so huhhh if you want any context you can always ask ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Cheers
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