formaldewrites

[formaldewrites]

Climate change is real and happening faster than scientists thought.

[formaldewrites]

✨pieckhan high school au✨

written for Parker

- nblw ship -

word count: 1, 189 words

genre/plot: hange and pieck are dating. implied levihan

notes: uhh yeah i wrote this and i like it. suggestive content (but no smut). ENBY HANGE ENBY HANGE

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Hange made their way over to their beloved girlfriend, who was waiting by the lockers for them.

“Late night again?” she teased, letting Hange lean down to kiss her head.

“Always.” they grin, opening their locker and shoving unneeded books in before slamming it shut. The pair strolled down the halls hand-in-hand, laughing and teasing each other.

They spent their Physics period flicking small messages across the classroom at each other as they took notes, shooting the occasional smirk or wink at the other before looking back at the whiteboard. The teacher was not oblivious, but had the kind of attitude where if a student chose not to listen, he wouldn’t bother trying to make them learn. So when he saw small white flashes shoot back and forth across the desks, he would only sigh and carry on with his lecture.

It wasn’t long until the bell finally signalled the end of the period, and the young physics teacher let them all join the crowd of students in the corridor with a reminder of their homework. The corridors were flooded with students shoving and running to get to their next lesson, which resulted in our dear Pieck and Hange clinging to the walls for dear life. Panicky teenagers fueled by fear of strict teachers are deadly when running to class.

Dr Addams was a lithe, athletic woman in her mid-thirties who stood at 183 centimetres tall and recently began to teach Biology at Paradis College. She often had her auburn hair pulled into a neat bun atop her small head and wore minimal eyeliner. The current topic was reproduction - the perfect fuel for immature adolescent humour. Or rather, it would be if Dr Addams wasn’t as uptight as she was. As she began to draw diagrams of reproductive systems on the whiteboard, tiny cackles could be heard from different corners of the laboratory. The barely audible laughter was short-lived, however, as she soon turned around with her signature poker face, an intimidating energy surrounding her.

“Please mind that although I have only drawn the male and female reproductive systems, there are six biological sexes. Their sex chromosomes are respectively: X, XX, XY, XXY, XXXY, and XYY. I will not tolerate any of your “There are only two genders” nonsense, so if you would like to say such, I would recommend doing your homework before you open your mouth.” Dr Addams’ piercing eyes swept over the silent classroom, her lip pursed before she began to introduce the roles of either system’s parts.

Hange’s eyes twinkled with admiration at the new Biology teacher, scribbling notes with gusto as they listened intensely. Pieck’s eyes shifted between the teacher and her partner, lips pulled into a small smile as she copied everything Dr Addams went on about. Finally, a teacher who’s an ally. She could be gay. Or trans. Who knows?

At lunch, she and Hange would sit with Levi and Erwin, the student body president and vice president, mostly because she was the student council accountant, just as Hange was the student council secretary. How they managed to snag the position of secretary, Pieck didn’t really know, especially given their disorganised behaviour. However, their creativity and positive demeanour definitely made up for it and had gotten the student council out of some rather troublesome situations.

Pieck didn’t know her other fellow student council members as well as she did Hange or Erwin, especially not Levi, but she tried her best to stay on their good side. Rumours often flew around about which council member was dating who, and enjoyed her place as accountant. Maths and financial responsibility were two things she nearly excelled in, apart from making Hange happy.

It wasn’t long until people began to spread rumours about Hange, Levi and Erwin being in a polyamorous relationship, which Erwin shot down almost instantly. It made Pieck silently chuckle whenever somebody looked at the group strangely during lunch, knowing exactly what thought was bouncing around in their skulls. Hange would often ask her if it made her uncomfortable, to which she would reply “let them think what they want” with a playful grin. In time, the rumour pressed on and the trio’s positions on the Student Council didn’t help their case much. Eventually it got to a point where Floch, a student well-known for being the class clown and bully, went up to their table to pick on them for it.

He slammed his hands on the table looking each of the Council members in the eye, causing heads to snap towards them from all directions. Even students on their way out either watched from where they were standing or silently picked their ways back to their original seats to observe the commotion.

“Is it true, President?” his voice rang strong as he smirked. “Are you and Ackermann Hange’s secret boy toys?”

“How’s it any of your business, Forster? Get back to your seat.” Levi shoots back, his signature glare stabbing into Floch.

“Well, you aren’t denying it, are you?”

Hange leans over to Pieck, kissing her cheek and whispered, ���Forgive me for what I’m about to do, ma cherie.” Pieck looks at them quizzically as they straighten themself up and smile. Turning to Levi, they tenderly raise his hand to their lips, pressing them against his knuckles.

“Another round later?” they ask in an almost seductive tone that everyone could pick up on, lips rising into a cheeky grin.

“I’m going to make you scream.” Levi raised and lowered an eyebrow, a barely visible smirk forming as he tugged his blazer off and placed it on the bench next to him. Erwin merely chuckled watching the situation unfold.

Gasps erupt from all over the room. Sure, Levi smiling in any way was a rare occurrence, but him making nearly sexual comments? Nearly anyone would pay to see it.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” In one fluid motion, Hange’s blazer is off as well.

After a moment of fumbling around his bag, Levi produced exactly what he needed. "One game of Mario Kart. You owe me those expensive tea leaves if you lose." Levi takes a long sip from his thermos and sets it down.

“You fucking gold-digger.” Hange joked. “Fine, you’re on. I expect those encyclopedias on my desk if you lose, though.”

Floch only stares dumbstruck as the pair’s hands move at the speed of light, Hange jerking their Nintendo Switch as though it would somehow help them win.

At the end of the match, Hange throws (it back ofc shawty is thicc /j) their fist in the air, a scream of joy nearly killing everybody's eardrums. Levi scoffs, shutting the game down and shoving his console into his bag.

“You are aware that I’m broke, right?”

“You literally got a job two weeks ago. I also know your last payday was three weeks ago from your old job.” they stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Erwin, will you fund Levi being a sore loser?”

Erwin sighs, chuckling to himself at his friends’ antics. “Of course. Which encyclopedia was it?”

[formaldewrites]

✨asra alnazar✨

written for Parker

- gender neutral -

word count: 352 words

genre/plot: idfk asra surprises the protag ig

notes: this is old. sorry for disappearing :,)

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Asra was away on another trip and, of course, wouldn’t let Parker follow for their own safety. It was excruciating having to sleep alone and only talking through reflective surfaces and dreams, but as long as Parker could fall unconscious they’d be able to see their beloved. It was the thought of that and the knowledge that they could ensure Asra’s safety which kept them going.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the shop was alive with laughter and playful insults. Parker was rearranging herbs back onto the shelves and exchanging playful banter with Portia as she’d decided to drop by for spices to use in the palace. That is, until the door’s protective symbols glowed and the doorknob rattled lightly.

Parker and Portia fell silent, staring at the door in anticipation. Perhaps it was Julian testing out his new magical abilities since Astra taught him a few things in the Tower’s realm. That was the first thing to come to mind since Asra wasn’t meant to be back for another week or so, and Muriel wasn’t known for magic. Nor were Nadia or Lucio.

Okay, so yes, Lucio had quite literally made a deal with the Devil, but that didn’t technically count as having magical abilities. Chile, anyways-

The door swung open to reveal…

...a dragon.

just kidding it was asra lololol

ANYWAYS, the door swung open and there stood our favourite magician in all his white-haired glory, wrapped in his pretty maroon shawl and his precious dimpled smile. You know, as you do when you’re Asra Alnazar and you’ve just come home two weeks early to surprise your wonderful MC just because you can. Monarch shit right there.

Parker and Portia’s jaws dropped open as they gawked wide-eyed at the tanned figure with his sunshine boy smile and like,,,yeah his vibes are immaculate, we stan.

After he dumped his stuff, he, Portia and Parker sat around in the back room, Asra telling stories of his travels while they sipped tea from Portia’s cottage. Faust coiled loosely around Asra’s neck, lightly squeezing before settling over his shoulders.

[formaldewrites]

REBLOG IF YOU ARE HELLA BORED AND WOULDN’T MIND SOME CURIOUS ANONS.

[formaldewrites]

vent fiction!!

word count: 502 words

notes: pasodoble is a very fast spanish military march. it is also a music genre and style of fast ballroom dance which was used in bullfights when the matador won in the arena, hence the use of dance moves derived from the matador’s fighting style. just thought i should clear that up before you begin reading

references are made to stephen hawking, who is often regarded as the smartest human, and marilyn vos savant, who is said to have been the woman with the highest iq (this was also recorded in the book of guinness world records.) you’ll see why once you’ve read through

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Cynical self-loathing. Humanity born of inhumane actions. False accusations and drowning in obsession and affections. Perched at the very edge, even the smallest breeze could send him tumbling. Yet all he knew was the monster feeding on his insides, waiting for the perfect moment to break from its shackles.

And the perfect moment it was. The outbreak was too perfectly timed; a universe of calculations that was beautiful in the way an intricately carved cane may be considered, each small groove a perfect equation to create chaos from nothingness. Yet there it was, and it cut right through his bones.

It had been a warm, silent morning. The sunlight trickled in like light maple syrup, brushing the room in hues of tangerine and lemon. He lay entangled in a navy blue duvet slowly gaining consciousness, his chest rising ever so slightly and falling in time with his beloved’s. It was clearer than daylight to him that he didn’t deserve them. How could they have a care in the world for somebody so unworthy? Praise was a waste of respiration ― thinly veiled insults that prodded at his every movement never dug as deep.

And yet the picture they painted of themself was inundated with divinity ― more vibrant than the statues perched at temple entrances, more lively than the pasodoble. They were infinity and nothingness, an unsolvable enigma that even Hawking or vos Savant could not decipher. He craved the elixir that was their presence like an unrested spirit craves salvation.

Perhaps they hated to love him; perhaps all they hated was the core of his being. They tore down walls that even he didn’t know existed, but wished he’d known of sooner. He wished he had reinforced those walls before they’d found him.

But most of all, he simply wished he could be rid of the parasite that had seized his soul, overwhelming him with all the things he knew he wasn’t, all the things he never wanted to be. But most of all, it defiled his portrait, contorting his features and sending ink running in every which way. It crushed his lungs, releasing air back into the atmosphere and slowly building its precious dystopia within his walls atop his remains. A dystopia in which the population was him and him alone.

It was an eternal game of Russian Roulette to keep up with either of the two. But he couldn’t pull himself away. No, he’d never trade it for the world. It was the only gamble he’d ever enjoyed ― and he relished the thrill, whether or not he lost.

It had been a warm, silent morning that became hell on earth. The parasite tugged his strings ever so harshly, he nearly fell apart at its grip tripping over himself to meet every demand. And all he could do was stare as guilt and rage flooded his being, blinding him to reality as he finally felt himself snap and succumb to all the things he was never made to be.

He was finally no longer human.

[formaldewrites]

Abusive parents will trauma-condition you to obey them, they will punish your every healthy instinct, every independent thought and every resistance to their authority to the point where they fuck with your survival instincts and force you to fear for your life if you don’t do as you’re told.

Then when you come down with ptsd they have the nerve to say “You got too affected by it.”

They made sure you were extremely affected by it when they were doing it. They were the ones who wouldn’t stop until you were unable to do anything but to be controlled by them if you wanted to survive. Do you know what kind of extreme torture will get a person to obey you unconditionally? It means keeping a person in death fear.

You being affected by it so much that you couldn’t be a human being but their property was the point of it. They’re perpetrators of a torture crime. They do not get to have a say in what your reaction to it means. You’re a human being and they had no right to hurt you whatsoever. They do not get to turn around and say “Oh, actually, we wanted to get different things from torturing you, and being held responsible for it is not one of them.” 

[formaldewrites]

Margaret Atwood, The Testaments

[formaldewrites]

the front bottoms, twin size mattress // @rbhvleo on tumblr // richard siken, crush (little beast) // taylor swift, cruel summer // unknown source // ada limón, bright dead things //  margaret atwood, we are hard // ocean vuong, on earth we’re briefly gorgeous // @normal-horoscopes on tumblr // halsey, trouble (stripped) //  richard siken, crush (scheherazade) // louise glück // richard siken, a primer for small weird loves // unknown source 

[formaldewrites]

your parents’ disapproval doesn’t make you a bad person. just so you know.

[formaldewrites]

Laziness Does Not Exist Devon Price

[formaldewrites]

✨ dazai osamu ✨

written for parker

- gender neutral -

word count:

genre/plot: idk but dazoo is sexi and needs therapy

notes:

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The ground swayed under Parker’s feet as they stumbled through the darkened streets of Yokohama, their path illuminated only by faint streetlamps. Dazai wrapped his arm tighter around them, making sure their arm didn't slip off his shoulder and they didn't fall into oncoming traffic as they made their way back to the Armed Detective Agency.

Chuya and T walked ahead hand in hand, laughing away at slurred jokes dissolving in the crisp air. Their bright red and teal hair whipped through the gentle breeze in a tango as they exchanged witty banter. It was as if the pairs were in separate dimensions, the vibes were so much different although they'd all come from the same bar.

It was strange, but the only thing running through Dazai's mind was getting Parker back safe and sound. Not even three minutes into walking home Parker had begun to mumble, a slurred orchestra of self-deprecation with the occasional sob. It was no less concerning than it was heartbreaking, the sight of his beloved Parker crumpling in his arms, a heavy smear of red across their face and their bright purple hair sticking up in all directions from constantly running their hand through it.

In about ten minutes, the pair had reached the room they shared. The gentle scent of pine caressed their clothes, an inviting tug from the nose that brought Parker down into the rumpled sheets. Sobs sent shivers down their spine and a slow numbness growing through their body. Dazai returned to their side with a small mug of tea and sleepwear.

"Parker? What's wrong, my love?" His smooth, gentle voice washed through Parker, flushing the numbness and pain away bit by bit as he pulled them against his chest, their hair lightly tickling his neck. They remained speechless, crying harder into their husband's collar as the low growling of motors sounded back and forth outside their window.

hahaha affection go brrr

The pair remained in that position, with the exception of Parker occasionally sipping the tea Dazai had brought before burying their face into his neck once more.

i didn't know how to finish this one so here you go 😔

[formaldewrites]

✨ mammon ✨

written for parker

- gender neutral -

word count: 350 words

genre/plot: fluff; getting caught making out (??)

notes: idk man i thought this would be cute and funny

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Two lightly tanned arms slowly coiled around Parker’s waist as they stood pouring coffee, followed by a warm, steady breath upon the back of their neck. They froze, setting the pot of dark heaven onto the countertop and spinning around, only to be met with Mammon’s smirk.

“Whatcha up to, Parker?” his fresh, minty breath fanned across their face, leaving a light blush behind. He was clad in a green T-shirt and skinny jeans with rips across the knees.

“I made coffee. Do you want some?” Tired dark brown eyes met striking dark blue ones, and it was in that moment that Mammon simply couldn’t help himself.

As his hands trailed up their sides, Mammon could feel himself inching closer and closer, until the air between his and Parker’s lips was filled with passion. The pair stood lip-locked in the kitchen, each enchanted and enamoured by the other. Parker could feel their heart running a marathon, as could their lover. Nothing could ruin this perfect moment.

Or so they thought.

Not even twenty seconds later, Beelzebub burst in for his 6 am snack, only to find his brother sucking face with his favourite human.

HIs jaw dropped and he stumbled backward, trying to make as little noise as possible as he made his escape. But that wasn’t the case here.

Beel slipped in an attempt to reach the candy Lucifer had hidden on the top shelf, falling by the door with a thud. Mammon and Parker’s heads whipped toward the source of noise, eyes wide and cheeks the colour of beetroot.

“Good morning, Parker!” he awkwardly chuckled, “and, uh...Mammon.”

Mammon’s small grin contorted into a scowl, his eyes lightly scorching with hellfire. “You saw nothing.”

Beelzebub nodded slowly, turning on his heel. “I’ll just...be going now.” He took one last look, wiggled his eyebrows and scrambled from the doorframe before his brother could throw insults his way.

“So…” Parker shifted from one foot to the other uneasily.

“So? Are we going out for breakfast or something?” Mammon lightly poked their cheek.

“I, uh-” they gulped. “I suppose so.”

[formaldewrites]

✨ sing soo-ling ✨

requested by parker

- gender neutral -

word count: 592 words

Genre: angst and some fluff bc im not that mean

notes: SHORTER IS NOT DEAD IN THIS FIC. ALSO I USE THE WORD "FUCKING" ONE TIME LMAO

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It was a stormy Tuesday night. Rain splattered against the windows, bathing trees and buildings alike. Parker lay against the headboard of their bed reading a book, tangled in the covers as they awaited Sing’s return. A mug of steaming tea rested on the side table, filling the room with a comforting energy.

As the thunder crashed outside, a door slammed shut somewhere in the house. Parker looked to the door of their bedroom startled, but they shrugged it off thinking it was just the wind. At least, until they heard his voice.

“Parker? Are you upstairs?” Sing’s voice rang out against the now soft patter of the rain against the roof and windows.

“In the room,” they called out, flipping a new page. It took them a few seconds to register that it was Sing himself calling for them. Sing, who’d been spending late nights and early mornings out for the past two weeks, leaving them little to no time together.

But now the mafia leader had returned, and Parker’s heart leapt into their throat with ecstasy. They dropped their book and dashed down the stairs to be met with a drenched Sing, his leather jacket slick with rainwater. His eyes lit up at the sight of his beloved Parker as they came toward him in a hoodie he could no longer wear, but which fitted them like a glove. Their sudden embrace filled him with warmth, not caring that he looked and felt like a soggy fucking potato.

Parker then pulled away, glaring and smacking him playfully on the arm. “Where have you been these past two weeks?”

“Mafia stuff. You know how it is, making sure people pay up and such.” Sing’s gaze turned grim, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips pursed.

“I know that look, Sing. Tell me what’s going on.” Parker rested a hand on his shoulder, meeting Sing’s now droopy gaze. It crushed their heart to see their paramour in a vulnerable position.

“It’s Shorter. He’s in critical condition and-” His voice cracked, tears beginning to fall. He inhaled deeply, shrugging his jacket off. “-and we don’t know if he’ll make it.”

Parker stared in shock and horror. Shorter had always been close with the two and to hear something so terrifying made their heart drop.

“No. NO, NO, NO-” Parker wrapped Sing in a tighter hug, tears welling up in their eyes as well.

A vibrating could be felt from Sing’s back pocket. He pulled his phone out, looking at Parker apologetically. They nodded, their gaze following Sing as he walked into the kitchen.

Moments later, Sing returned from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee in hand and a light dusting of pink across his face. His gait had a new bounce to it and his cheeks remained damp, but shockingly his mouth was adorned with a small grin.

“HE’S OKAY!!” Sing called out. “SHORTER IS AWAKE AND HE CAN GO HOME IN TWO DAYS!!”

Relief washed through Parker’s soul, their hands shaking as they accepted the warm mug and gulped some tea as their mind processed this new information. “He-” They looked up at Sing, who was now sitting on the couch next to them shirtless with his hair slightly damp. “We can get him on Thursday?”

The sides of their lover’s eyes crinkled with joy as he nodded. Parker set their mug onto the smooth mahogany table in front of them and leant back into Sing’s warm embrace, the dying storm pulling the lovers’ eyes shut as their hearts beat as one.

[formaldewrites]

hi!! welcome to my dumpyard for random bits and bobs of my writing. you can request pieces if you'd like to as well. disclaimer that i may not update my blog regularly but i'll try to do so as much as possible. happy reading!!

- andy :3