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hotchnerwrites · 1 day ago
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hi!! love your hotch fics so much. I have a request for a hotch fic with a bau reader, maybe someone who’s very extroverted with the team but shy around hotch and hotch notices. up to you where you want to take it!!
The Olive Branch
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: SFW, mutual crushes, minor misunderstanding
A/N: i JUMPED at this request, i have been wanting to write this for so long omfgggg!!!! i hope u like it!!! enjoy <3
My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)
PS. I've stopped adding the three starter pics to my fics (hopefully temporarily) bc tumblr is being uncooperative and won't minimise them. looks nasty with 3 images smh.
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It was his job to read people. To break down micro-expressions, decode behavioural changes, and anticipate actions before they happen. In the field, these skills had saved the lives of victims and team members alike.
But somehow, when it came to you, Aaron Hotchner found himself at a complete loss.
It wasn’t something he had noticed consciously. At least, not at first. When you arrived on your first day of work, he had made some superficial observations that remained at the edge of your awareness— quick to befriend the team, understand their dynamics and find your niche. You were so vibrant and easy with the others. You went toe-to-toe with Morgan’s teasing and could even keep up with Reid’s incessant chatter.
But with Aaron? A clipped “Yes, sir” or an awkward “Of course, Agent Hotchner”. It was always stilted, and he got the feeling that you carefully measured your words when interacting with him.
It wasn’t outright hostility. You were his coworker at the end of the day. But it wasn’t comfortable either. And Hotch had spent far too long being avoided by people outside of work to mistake it for anything else.
You did not like him.
Aaron didn’t blame you for it. He knew his reputation as a Unit Chief— he was a hard-ass; he demanded a lot and could shut down jokes in the middle of a case. He barely even spoke about his life outside work. He had spent years convincing himself that maintaining this distance was necessary, that he couldn’t afford to be anyone’s friend, lest he put them in harm’s way.
But with you? Aaron couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of regret at the way things had turned out.
———
The idea wasn’t fully formed. Hell, it was barely a concept of an idea.
It had been a long day of paperwork, and as the others were heading out for the night, Hotch noticed you skulking around García’s desk, staring at something.
A pen. Not just any pen— it was an engraved fountain pen that Penelope’s stepfather had gifted her.
“Pretty,” you had mumbled to yourself, “I used to have one just like that.”
It was a simple enough thing, and Hotch didn’t waste time overthinking it. The next day, he picked up a similar pen— nothing overly expensive, just well-made and practical, personal but not intimate.
A peace offering.
It was Aaron’s attempt at making things right.
———
He left it on your desk before the day started with a short note.
Thought you might like this. - A.H.
He’d be lying if he wasn’t nervous. Still, he tried not to set his expectations too high. 
But then he watched you find the pen.
You froze, fingers dancing over the box as if afraid to touch it. Then, carefully, you picked it up, turning it over like it was made of glass.
Hotch didn’t know what he had expected. A thank you? A nod of acknowledgement? Less awkward interactions? That would have been enough. Instead, you smiled. A small, private thing. The kind you offered JJ in quiet moments or to Emily after a tough case. A real genuine smile.
And then— you sought him out.
“Sir,” you started, cornering him after a briefing. Your tone was muted as usual, but there was no note of avoidance in it anymore. Just something he couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. For the pen. You didn’t have to… but I really appreciate it.”
Aaron had opened his mouth to brush it off, to tell you it was nothing, but then you dropped your gaze, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the pen. He couldn’t quite put a finger on your body language… but it was slowly dawning on him. 
Aaron Hotchner was realising that he had read you incredibly wrong.
———
The realisation didn’t fully hit him until later that night.
He’d been reviewing annual evaluations, half a glass of bourbon abandoned at the edge of his desk. He’d been fighting sleep for over an hour now— it had been a long week.
Aaron’s mind kept circling back to you. To your smile when you’d picked the pen up.
You, who were always warm and open with the team but hesitant and distant from him. You, who had nevertheless accepted his gift with something more than gratitude. You, who lingered just a fraction of a second too long after thanking him, eyes nervously darting up to his before skittering away.
Hotch exhaled audibly, rubbing a hand over his face. He couldn’t get the image of the way you had looked at him today out of his mind. You had really looked at him, a mixture of hesitance and nerves. The pen had been an underdeveloped idea for extending an olive branch, but you had smiled at it like it meant something.
As he stared off into space, paperwork long forgotten, the pieces slowly clicked into place with the kind of clarity that made him feel like an absolute idiot.
You weren’t shy around him because you disliked him.
In fact, therein lay the answer.
You were shy around him because you liked him.
It should’ve been so obvious. The very idea of it. It had danced around his face, and had it been anyone else, he would have seen it immediately. Yet, when it came to himself, apparently he was blind.
A profiler, indeed.
Aaron wasn’t sure what to do with this epiphany. Was he allowed to do anything? But also, did he really care that much about outdated FBI guidelines? He only knew one thing. For the first time in a long time, the idea of someone likinghim— not respecting, not tolerating, but actually liking him— made something warm and fuzzy settle in his chest.
Hotch leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Then he huffed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head at his ignorance.
Maybe he was getting old.
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Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.
Dividers by @/cafekitsune
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thewizardspinosaurus · 1 year ago
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"Retcon the sequels" not in a "things I don't like shouldn't he canon" kind of way, but in an "I want other stories and characters to be given room to flourish, and if they end up recontextualizing the sequels into oblivion so be it" kind of way
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iateyourparents · 1 year ago
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hello! could you write johnnie guilbert fluff? maybe a scenario where him and fem!reader are spending a day together (filming a video, doing random stuff) just being two people in love and jake and tara tease them and call them a married couple
deaf, mute and blind | j.g.
pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader
summary: you, johnnie and jake are recording a new challenge video.
warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)
an: hi, thank you <33 hope you like it!
pictures are from pinterest :)
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“Hi guys, it’s me, Tara, and today I’m here with Jake, y/n and Johnnie.” Tara introduced you and you all waved to the camera.
“Hi!” you greeted her viewers.
“Today I’m gonna torture my guests… No, but I wish.” she pouted and you all laughed “Today, my guests will be playing into deaf, mute and blind but…they will have many challenges and quests to do throughout the day. But they main goal is to do shopping and bake me cookies! Any words guys?”
“I hope I get deaf, cause I don’t think I can go much longer with them talking.” you rolled your eyes looking at Jake and your boyfriend.
“Hey!” Johnnie gasped pretending to be offended, placing hand on his chest “That hurt love.”
You only rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was forcing its way onto your face.
“Alright, so now they will draw sticks and get to know what senses will be taken from them!” Tara showed her viewers three sticks and then she turned to you “Ladies first.”
You took the one in the middle and immediately looked at written words.
“Yeah! I’m deaf today!” You did a little winning dance. Next one choosing stick was Johnnie and he got mute.
“Oh, so I will be blind.” Jake stated “That’s good actually, at least I don’t have to look at your ugly faces.” he smirked and you laughed.
Tara handed you all your things - blindfold for Jake, duck tape for Johnnie and earphones for you.
“Let me also add, that the person who won’t do the most of their mini challenges, has to take a cold shower on the street!” Tara smiled mischievously.
“Is this enough to charge her with domestic abuse?” Jake asked kind of scared.
When everyone was ready Tara started talking to the camera and you could only guess she was explaining to people what you gonna do and not long later Johnnie took your hand to let you know you were going out. You both helped blindfolded Jake to the car and Tara drove you to the nearest store.
She turned on the camera and pointed it at you and Johnnie. You didn’t see anyone talking so you decided to speak “I think Tara already told you guys but we’re making cookies so now we have to find all of the needed ingredients.” you informed and Tara pointed the camera to Johnnie who was gesturing towards some alley. He took your hand and started dragging you there with Tara going behind you but you suddenly stopped, remembering something.
You quickly turned around and jogged to Jake to walk him to Johnnie and Tara. He said something that made Tara laugh and Johnnie’s arms shudder in a silent laugh.
You really started to regret wanting to be deaf one, because not hearing anything yet seeing it, made you frustrated. Also, not hearing Johnnie made you kinda sad. But atleast you listened to your favorite songs.
You all went to grocery alley where Jake gave you his phone so you and Johnnie could find all ingredients for cookies.
Tara was pointing the camera on you all the time and you decided to speak from time to time in case she and Jake weren’t saying anything.
“So we will be doing chocolate chip cookies. Or rather we will be trying to instruct Jake to do it without hurting himself or poisoning us.” you felt a light push on your shoulder and you laughed seeing how Jake was struggling with trying to not miss your form while hitting.
Johnnie swatted Jake’s hand when he tried to hit your shoulder again and side hugged you while looking for flour.
“Johnnie, we need flour for cakes, this one is for bread.” you told him and he gave you a ‘what the hell’ face and you knew that if he could talk and you hear, he would be asking about the difference.
“Alright, I think we got everything.” you stated when you found everything and you all went to cashier’s stands where everyone was looking at you like at idiots, but that wasn’t anything new with Johnnie and Jake.
Tara quickly paid when it was yours turn and you and Johnnie walked Jake to the car.
When you were at home you quickly started to prepare kitchen for your baking.
Suddenly, you felt someone tugging gently at your arm and you saw Johnnie pointing ahead of you. You saw Tara pointing the camera at you all and you took it as a clue to start talking.
“Alright, so now we will be trying to instruct Jake how to make cookie dough, wish us luck!” you smiled sarcastically.
You somehow were cooperating well, Johnnie was showing you the recipe and you were reading it for Jake who then with your and yours boyfriend help were making most of the work.
When cookies were in the oven you didn’t have anything better to do so you sat on the floor in front of the oven and you were just looking at the cookies.
Some time later Johnnie joined you, sitting next to you and placing his head on your shoulder. You hugged him into your side and he gladly snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder.
You sat there for a few minutes, when Tara came to you with a camera and some bowl and told something to Johnnie and then showed you her phone, where she wrote in the notes that now you will be doing random challenges before you could take the cookies out from the oven. It would decide who is the loser of the video.
You all stood in the living room and Tara came to you with the bowl and you took one piece of paper.
“I’ve got ‘activity without your sense’” you read it for them and viewers out loud and then showed the piece of paper to the camera.
Moment later Tara gave you another paper, which turned out to be an instruction what your activity was.
“So I have to call a random contact and try to have normal conversation with that person. That will be hard.” you sighed “Can Johnnie and Jake help me? Like by gesturing?” You looked at Tara and she only nodded.
You looked at the camera and smiled “I’m actually kinda scared that they will gesturing wrong things and I will make a fool of myself.” you laughed and you could see Tara snorting.
Your challenges were done, it wasn’t that bad or at least you were hoping so.
Then you took the cookies out of the oven and tried them when they weren’t hot. They were really good.
“Teamwork makes a dream work, i guess.” you smiled at the camera.
Then you could finally take off the earphones and you were never as grateful for hearing Jake and Johnnie as now.
“God, it’s so good to hear people again. I missed your voice.” you told Johnnie who smiled widely at you and kissed your cheek.
“I’m glad to see again, but I’m scared of how many bruises I’ve got today.” Jake laughed while still trying to get use to the light in the room.
“Alright guys, they made it.” Tara smiled at the camera “I can’t with how cute y/n and Johnnie were today. Literally goals. You were like and old married couple.” she giggled and you smiled.
“So, who’s the loser?” Jake asked after few minutes.
“You Jake.” You laughed “You didn’t do any of your challenges correctly.”
“That’s true.” Tara smirked “You will do your punishment later.”
You stopped recording for some time so Tara could get all of the needed things for Jake’s punishment, so you and Johnnie went to sit on the couch while hugging.
“I really missed your voice today.” you admitted again quietly.
“And I missed talking to you.” he smiled “And kissing you.” he kissed you.
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a-d-nox · 7 months ago
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astro hypothesis: how your appearance changes
using your asc persona chart you can find out how your appearance will change (or has changed). there are four things i personally would look at when it comes to change: pluto (this change is like a finalized change - when it happens thats it, that's how it is rather permanently), saturn (change that would happen as time passes (aging)), uranus (sudden change or how something evolves with time (kind of like trends you adhere to)), and the 8h (how you transform - what you transform into).
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saturn
10h saturn: often these people age more gracefully than most. or they could look more attractive as they age (aging like "fine wine"). they tend to look more mature than their peers no matter what age, but as they grow older, they have a strong energy which causes others to look to them for answers. as they get older, they tend to prefer classic and conservative clothes - that makes them look very professional. as the baby fat goes away the cheekbones and jawline come out to play! they get more chiseled (bone-wise) with age. they also appear to have a great health routine that keeps them sharp (diet, exercise, skin care routine, etc). lines and wrinkles are real with this placement - "keep making those faces and they'll stick" is true for this person because they do tend to furrow their brow or something of the sort that cases lines.
saturn positively aspecting sun: creative yet refined. they may develop a more sophisticated and polished appearance. they might be drawn to timeless, elegant fashion choices that convey a sense of maturity and grace, blending classic styles with a creative touch. they have a confident maturity in how they present themselves. they have a more authoritative or composed demeanor, which gives them a look that commands respect without being overly stern. they might be more meticulous about their appearance with this placement (lint rollers, no loose strings, etc). otherwise meaning they could pay extra attention to grooming, how clothing fits, and overall presentation, ensuring that everything is well put together and thoughtfully considered. there’s often an acceptance of the aging process with this placement. they tend to embrace a natural/graceful aging process; they aren't fighting against the signs of age.
saturn negatively aspecting uranus: lead to a push-pull dynamic in their appearance, where they alternate between more conventional looks and bold, unconventional styles. they might experiment with their appearance in ways that break from their usual habits, only to later revert to something more conservative. they might feel prompted to make abrupt changes to their appearance - like a drastic haircut, a new fashion style, or even experimenting with tattoos/piercings. these changes might come on impulsively. there might be tension between wanting to fit in and wanting to stand out. which might lead to an appearance that blends both traditional and avant-garde elements. they might adopt a classic wardrobe but accessorize with bold, statement pieces. this aspect could lead to stress, which might impact their appearance. they could experience issues like changes in their skin, weight fluctuations, or have a generally more tense/restless demeanor. either they will have a modern twist on classic styles or a more refined approach to edgy fashion.
saturn negatively aspecting asc: these people might adopt a more serious or reserved look. this could involve dressing more conservatively, choosing muted colors, or adopting a more professional style to reflect a sense of responsibility or authority. saturn’s influence can oftentimes lead to a more toned or slimmed-down appearance due to its association with restriction. they might find themselves more focused on physical fitness or, conversely, they might experience challenges related to their physical body, such as feeling more self-conscious or critical of their appearance. again this placement could mean developing fine lines, gray hairs, or other signs of aging, or it could simply mean adopting a style that feels more appropriate for their current stage of life (you won't find someone with this placement in their 30s wear jeans that are distressed for example). they might notice a sharpening or more defined look to their facial features, such as prominent cheekbones or a more angular jawline. their sense of burden or stress can often be reflected in their appearance. this might manifest as looking more tired or worn, or simply carrying themselves with a heavier demeanor.
uranus
6h uranus: they might frequently change they style or fashion choices on a whim (they are very susceptible to trends - especially with exercise and diet). they might frequently experiment with new looks, hairstyles, or clothing. they are drawn to unique or non-traditional styles that set them apart from the norm. unexpected changes related to health / wellness routines might impact their appearance. that being said adopting a new fitness regimes or dietary habits could result in sudden physical transformations (for example, they could go sugar free and suddenly see a lot of differences in their skin). their approach to grooming / personal care might be erratic or unconventional (for example, they might grow underarm hair and suddenly turn to waxing). they could go through phases of extreme minimalism or elaborate grooming routines.
uranus positively aspecting mars: they might develop an edgy, bold, and uniquely theirs type of appearance. they could be drawn to fashion choices that are innovative, slightly ahead of the curve, or even "futuristic". they sense a trend before others do. they come to have a vibrant, dynamic presence that others notice. their appearance might exude a sense of vitality and excitement - they often use bright colors, bold patterns, or statement accessories that convey their energetic nature. they are more willing to experiment with their physical appearance as well. they could be drawn to trying out new hairstyles, bold makeup looks, etc. their approach to their appearance may be highly individualistic and creatively inspired - its truly theirs. there are subtle but impactful changes in their appearance. they might make small tweaks to their appearance that have a big effect, such as altering their grooming routine, trying out new workout regimens, or gradually refining their style in ways that enhance their overall look. they are more comfortable expressing their individuality through their appearance they really any other placement. they embrace their "quirks" and standing out in a way that feels both authentic and empowered. they might be drawn to a more athletic or streamlined looks given mars. this could manifest as clothing that is both functional and stylish.
uranus negatively aspecting asc: they might feel a strong urge to drastically change their appearance, often in unexpected ways. this could mean experimenting with bold new fashion choices, trying out unconventional hairstyles (that doesn't usually work for them - no hate), or adopting a completely new look that breaks from their past style. they may choose to reject traditional or societal norms in favor of a more unique, individualistic appearance OR they could be conformist and dislike standing out. their appearance is often dynamic and ever-changing. it is likely difficult for them to stick to one style or look for too long (they have to continually rotate their closet). their appearance might either naturally draw attention, whether intentional or not, or they might blend in to the point of disappearing. this could be due to the boldness of their choices or the sheer unpredictability of their style. they are someone who is constantly evolving and never quite the same. they have a strong sense of personal freedom in how they express themselves usually it is apparent in through how they appear.
pluto
4h pluto: often the realization of who they are and who they are connected to triggered their change in appearance. it's often in the eyes, one day they can be happy with a twinkle in their eye then the next its like the light has gone out. they have seen some sh!t and it shows. their resilience and strength radiates right off of them. while they typically look unchanged since youth their aura changes and others sense the change and often feel drawn to them. they could also go from a colorful wardrobe to a dark and edgy one - it's very obvious when they start buying their own clothes and their parents stop doing so. they could also have scars (physical or mental) that date back to childhood that have changed their appearance.
pluto negatively aspecting sun: they might go through a period of intense personal change, which could lead them to alter their appearance to reflect their new sense of self. this could manifest as a dramatic change in style, grooming habits, and/or physical fitness. they might adopt a more powerful or assertive appearance—perhaps choosing darker colors, more dramatic makeup, and/or a bolder fashion style. they might seek to control their appearance in a more meticulous manner, perhaps becoming more concerned with how they are perceived and making deliberate changes to project strength and/or confidence than they feel. stress or emotional upheaval associated with these aspects could potentially affect their physical appearance (they might experience changes in weight, skin, and/or hair due to the emotional intensity of this placement).
pluto positively aspecting mercury: people might see them as more mysterious or profound. these aspects can enhance their ability to uncover hidden truths and understand complex subjects through their powerful abilities to perceive, which might give them a more intense or focused demeanor. they might undergo a transformation in how they think or speak, which could lead to a shift in their overall presence. this might not change their physical appearance but can alter how others perceive them.
pluto positively aspecting venus: they may exude a more powerful, magnetic charm. people could be drawn to them more intensely, perceiving them as mysterious and alluring. they may feel a stronger desire to refine their style, perhaps opting for more sophistication, elegance, or even slightly provocative clothing that reflects a deeper part of their personality. this aspect can inspire them to make changes to their physical appearance, such as trying a new hairstyle, makeup look, and/or even undergoing a more significant transformation like a new fitness regimen. the changes they make are likely to enhance their attractiveness in a way that feels natural and empowering. as their inner confidence grows due to the harmonious energy of a positive aspect, it may naturally reflect in how they carry themselves, making them appear more self-assured and poised.
8h
8h pisces: their eyes/vision maybe change dramatically over time. they appear deep, reflective, or distant. their face gets softer, more rounded - which can give the face a gentle, compassionate appearance. this softness can also manifest in terms of their skin (it can be smooth or delicate in texture). they seem to glide rather than walking, even in old age they tend to move smoothly (not to be morbid but like a ghost). they also give off a subtle magnetism that draws people in over time. this attraction is not necessarily overt rather it is more of a quiet, mysterious allure that makes people want to know more about them.
8h ruler in the 6h: they may experience changes in their appearance through their daily routines. this could include adopting new health and/or fitness regimes that significantly alter their physical body over time, such as weight loss, muscle gain, and/or improved skin condition due to better nutrition or skincare practices. it can obviously go the other way if they aren't making the effort to improve their routines. there’s a strong focus on health. they might become more conscious of how their lifestyle affects their appearance; leading to changes in diet, exercise, and/or sleep habits. this placement can make them more disciplined about maintaining their health, which in turn enhances their physical appearance. this could make a person dedicated or even obsessive with their focus on self-care routines. they might engage in regular detoxes, intensive skincare routines, and/or other practices aimed at regenerating or improving their physical appearance. on the other hand, their appearance might be influenced by their professional environment. this could mean adopting a more polished or practical look that fits their job’s requirements. alternatively, stress or demands from work could impact their appearance, perhaps leading to noticeable changes like dark circles, weight fluctuation (from low activity at a desk job OR cortisol level), and/or tension lines. they might adopt an appearance that is understated yet intriguing, or perhaps there’s something about their look that others find compelling or enigmatic, even if they maintain a relatively simple style. they are equally likely to go through phases of transformation where their appearance changes significantly - perhaps after overcoming a health issue and/or making a major lifestyle change.
8h ruler in the 10h: their appearance could become more refined, serious, or polished to convey a sense of strength and professionalism, especially in a career context. they may experience significant changes in their public persona and appearance over time. this could involve a complete makeover or a shift in style to reflect changes in their career/public role. they might reinvent their look to align with a new phase in their professional life. they might be drawn to darker, more sophisticated clothing, or they could develop a look that is intriguing and slightly enigmatic, which draws people’s attention in professional and public settings. their career might demand a certain level of formality and/or authority in their appearance. they may consciously cultivate a look that commands respect and reflects their ambitions. this could include dressing in a way that aligns with their professional goals, such as adopting a more corporate, polished, and/or tailored style. the way they look could become a key part of how they are known publicly. they might carefully curate their appearance to ensure it aligns with the image they wish to project professionally. this could involve regular updates to their style to stay relevant or to reflect changes in their career trajectory.
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grandisknight · 6 months ago
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dots and dashes | sylus
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summary: Sylus gives insight into one of the many languages he's well-versed in.
tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, afab!reader, banter, morse code, vibrator, sex toys, orgasm edging, f!orgasm, aftercare/morning after, gift giving, evol abilites (sylus' energy manipulation), a pinch of fluff
wc: 2.6k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist
a/n: mildly inspired by one of his older text messages (affinity 37’s text message: deal)! also around his pre-debut, he had morse code in one of the teasers (official weibo post here) and i thought that was pretty neat so here we are ^_^)7
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The leader of Onychinus kept a plethora of languages stored away under his sleeve. A man of multiple tongues and talents, you just wanted to know how to say one thing—anything, really. 
Though, you didn’t think he’d take a silly comment in passing so seriously, and it landed you in his personal study the following evening. A rare day where your schedules aligned, Sylus took the opportunity to extend a warm welcome into the N109 Zone under the promise of a ‘lesson.’
Of all the languages, morse code was what he decided to reveal in his cards. A curious choice, to say the least, but it piqued your interest nevertheless. Cozied in one of the cushioned chairs, a beginner’s guide laid flat across the desk with your scribbled notes. Sylus’ chair was tucked to the side in observation, accompanying your lessons as a stand-in teacher of sorts.
Time passed in this way—he would offer a series of taps and drags with his fingers against the surface, and you would write them down. He was patient with you all throughout, solidifying the foundation for the alphabet before switching to small words and phrases.
A question that had been plaguing your mind since you arrived drifted into the air during a self-proclaimed break. “By the way, why do you know morse code?” 
With a hand propping your chin, your gaze takes in his relaxed figure. Comfortably dressed in his light gray sweater, the detailed threads of silver patterns painted him in a softer aura that juxtaposed his usually formidable appearance. Rimless glass coveted the rubied gaze that would occasionally meet yours, though occupied in thought. 
It was distracting, to say the least. A handsome distraction at its finest, though it doesn’t pull away from the message he quietly relayed to you.
A dot, two dashes. A series of dashes, another dot and some more followed.  (.-- / --- / .-. / -.-)
Counting off the units that met the table in muted taps, you answer, “Work?”
“Good ear, sweetie.” Sylus nods, leaning back and adjusting the thin frames balancing atop his nose. “Sometimes, negotiations are better said without words.”
“That’s a thinly veiled way of saying threats, but sure,” you retort. He doesn’t deny your claims, rather letting out a small chuckle in acquiesce. 
Sylus taps your forehead with his forefinger, amusement quirked in his brow. “You’ve seen the kind of talks and people I’ve dealt with. Who knows, you could use this in one of your little undercover missions too.” 
His hands return to nestle in his lap, and it catches your eye then—a faint snap and swirl of black manifested into a box underneath his palm. Perfectly fitted and nearly hidden if it weren’t for the glimmering trim around the edges, and the fluttering crow feather swaying towards the floor.
“Curious, are we?” Sylus voices your thoughts, fingers drumming against the lid. 
Two dashes and a dot, a couple more dots, another dash-dot and lasting dash. (--. / .. / ..-. / -) 
“Gift,” you echo upon realization. 
Your eyes wandered between his lap and the sparkling rubied gaze that honed his presence, reading between the lines. “Don’t tell me it’s another gun? Last time I checked, my Harrier 700 still works well.” 
And the last thing you wanted to deal with was a run-in with customs, if that were the case—he’s already tried his luck before, and you weren’t counting on his luck index to grant a second chance.
“You’ve been taking good care of it, so there’s no need for a replacement,” Sylus says. He leans back, tapping a forefinger to his temple in thought. “I thought it would be nice to get you something for studying so diligently.”
It had your back straightening in attention—now you really had no idea what he could be hiding. Even so, a scowl sketched onto your face, wondering if you’ve walked into a trap. A dry chuckle parts his lips at your clear interest and adamant attempt to maintain a façade all the same.
“Sweetie, it’s all yours.”
“It’s not that simple though, is it?”
“Ah. You know me so well,” he muses. “As vigilant as ever.”
The box finds itself on the desk and his hands reach for your chair. They dance over the armrest before turning your full front towards him—where his cocked head and curled lips asked, “Let’s make a deal. How does that sound?” 
“What’s the catch?” Your heart jumped into your throat, unsure of when the air became so… palpable. Damn him and his ridiculously handsome face, you couldn’t tell if it made this more bearable or stirred your senses further. “I might be willing to wager.”
“Relax, that’s one of the conditions.” His larger fingers swipe over one of yours, which had subconsciously curled into a fist. Gently, he coaxes your hand to open into his, soon neatly slotted and all encompassing with warmth. “You look nervous, and I haven’t done a thing.”
“I know.” Your shoulders relax when his thumb massages yours in a light stroke. “But you haven’t done anything yet,” you clarify.
“Which brings me to my second condition.” He brings it closer to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours when he presses a kiss to your knuckles. “A test, if you will. You pass if you manage to decode my sequence correctly.”
“My sequence,” you pause, catching the tail end of his proposal. “So there’s only one?” 
“Why, do you want a whole pop quiz?” He snickers, a brow raised. “We’ll be stuck here all night if that’s the case.”
“Nevermind,” you shake your head, finding the prospect to be less than charming. One was more than enough to take on your plate.
You purse your lips then and poke in jest. “Are you doubting my academic prowess now?”
“I would’ve dismissed you entirely if I was,” Sylus points out, tugging your hand towards him. 
It jerked you forward unexpectedly, though it seemed he was anticipating this—smooth swirls of red and black tangled around your body, gently placing you atop his expecting lap before softly dispersing. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’re as bright as they come,” he adds in honesty.
“What the—hey, now!” A flush ran across your cheeks at the newfound proximity. 
Hips hovering above him, you nearly fell onto the fine meeting place between his thighs. You save yourself the embarrassment, reaching for the chair’s headrest to steady your shift. He allows you this much, your legs soon bracketing his own and enjoying the sight all the same.
You huffed, “Is this part necessary?”
“Par for the course, actually.” Sylus’ fingers ghost over your sides, before settling atop your thighs and his palms lying flat in a gentle caress. “You can always back out if you’re not game.”
An arrow to your pride dug into your heart at the mere offense. The competitive spirit that once laid dormant jerked into consciousness—absolutely not.  “No, we’re on. Do your worst,” you raise in steadfast confidence. “I can take it.”
“Those are fighting words,” he says. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable, teetering on a fine line of fondness and scheme alike. “But I’ll hold you to it.”
So, maybe your confidence could only carry you so far. 
Rather, it tumbled you into a predicament at the cost of your exposed cunt. His free hand lazily dimpled into the plush of your hip, simultaneously careful to keep you steady. No longer a comfortable chill, the study’s air swirled into a concoction of heat and burning salacity in every inhale.
“Sweetie,” Sylus purrs. “You still haven’t answered my question.” 
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. The game of codes was the last thing on your mind when a fine man of caliber was perched beneath you, gracefully stringing you along and allowing you the same right.
Easily thrown out the window, especially so, when all inhibition was lost to his kneaded touches and peppered kisses. The smooth movements that treasured your skin with care, tugging your bottoms down just enough in the process and tenderly appreciating you throughout the heat of the moment. Even his hair stuck out in one direction to the next, unkempt from the field day your tugging fingers reshaped the silver stands into. 
Be that as it may, you still groan, chest rising to catch your breath. Nails drag into planes of his firm shoulder blades, lightly leaving their mark. “It’s because you’re not playing fair, Sy.” If you had a nickel for every time you were close to crashing in his embrace from an impending climax, it would be two. While it’s not an impressive sum, both were earned in the past few minutes alone, under the direction of his cunning smile and newfound toy in hand.
To his kindness, he pulls the rounded head of the vibrator away from your clit—the once muffled hums rang out more clearly, whirring at the highest setting. It glistened to the naked eye, finely coated in a layer of your evident arousal.
“All is fair in love and war,” he says, unphased by the line of bait you failed to reel in. He leans forward to press a kiss into your temple, a sign of affection pairing with a gentle squeeze to your side. “Should I be nice and walk you through one last chance?”
Your hands trace the curves melting into his neck, grazing his nape in forewarning. “Thin ice, Onychinus head.” 
“Alright,” he muses, though reveling at the added pressure that only spurs him further. “No need to get so formal with me.” The vibrator lowers in the same breath to meet your anticipating heat.
“Five letters. Ready?”
Your hips roll forward then, impatience losing its virtue if meant you could finally, finally seek some relief. “Was practically born ready, at this point.” And then, the first rhythm played out in three, gentle presses to where you needed it most. 
Three dots. (...)
This was fine, you could handle this much.
A moment of pause soon sways into the vibrator sliding between skin, returning to the apex of your labia, and dipping once again. 
A dash, added dot, and paired dashes thereafter. (-.--) “Still with me?” Sylus asks, taking in the sight of your eyes screwed in concentration. It was endearing, in some sense of the word, and his gaze lingered on your expression in intrigue.
Though grateful for the concern, you chide when your breath allows it. “Don’t stop, go all the way already.”
To stop halfway tested what little patience there was left in you. You raised your head to find his circles of crimson brimming with a fondness and undivided attention. All for you.
The grin he graces you with carries the same sentiments, newly tinted with mirth. “Whatever the boss wants.” 
The humming returns without warning, and you jerk against the touch, gasping. A press and slide, following upwards once more in double succession. 
Another dot, dash, and two dots in a row. (.-.. )
You were quickly beginning to piece together the puzzle he left you to solve, the audacity of it all.
Before you could admonish such revelations, you bite your tongue when he continues into the next piece. It was fleeting, but memorable—identical presses and a sinister slide, the buzzing toy greeting your entrance in slick abundance. 
Two dots, and a dash. (..- )
“You’re not—” Your eyes grow wide at the newly placed prodding. 
“Getting cold feet? A minute ago you wanted me to go all the way,” Sylus recalls with a click of his tongue. “It would be unlike you to stop right before the finish line, sweetie.”
You squirm against him, sensitive and incredibly aware of the coil threatening to unfurl. He takes notice, hand stilling in consideration.
“You can do it,” he croons, forehead to yours and capturing your fluttering gaze.
“Never said I couldn’t,” you say, a swallow sealing your determination.
Sylus smiles. “Last letter. Let's make it count.” The vibrator slips into your cunt, whirring against your walls in a sense of overwhelming ecstasy. He makes quick work of it all then, three generous thrusts of the wand disappearing almost entirely, save for his firm grip around the base. 
Three final dots. (...)
It marks the end of his charades, and the beginning of your incandescent cries.
You came undone at last, release ebbing as a flurry of sounds shape themselves into your call. “Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.”
“That’s it, ride it out for me. You worked so hard to earn it, after all.” His nose brushes just beneath your jaw, a tender kiss in consolation to soothe your high. 
He relaxes the toy out of your spent heat by the time your trembling thighs subsided, power shutting off and rolling onto the desk’s surface. A brief swirling of black and crimson manifests a small cloth into his hand, gently patting away the stickied outcome before it disperses in the same specks. His fingers rake along your sides, dragging the fabric of your bottoms into their proper place.
“Sylus.” You slump against his shoulder in recovery, bemoaning amidst the moment of calm clarity. “You are unbelievable. The damn answer was your name, of all things.” “And now you know how to call for me in code. Aren’t I generous?” The slight rumble of his chest supports the chuckle he lets out, deepened further when a curl of your fist smacks his shoulder in protest.
Endearment softens his tone as he draws circles into your back, taking the rolling punches. The other tangles his fingers against your temple, smoothing out the sides in thought. “I would say our lesson went well today.”
“One hell of a lesson,” you remark. Your breathing slows for a moment, listening to the drumming heart beneath your ear. His caresses were kind, lulling, attentive. A sense of peace, wholeheartedly yours and Sylus' alone.
Your gaze shifts towards the desk, when another piece of memory, well-decorated in its untouched trim, lies next to the toy. Forgotten, nearly—the gift. “By the way,” you murmur. “What’s in the box?” Whether it was out of laziness and unwilling to move from your warmth or pure convenience, Sylus waves his hand in summoning. Accepting the floating item midair, you were about to peel off the lid when he began to shift under you, interrupting your grand reveal.
“Hold on.”
With practiced ease, Sylus single-handedly cradles you to his chest and adeptly rises from the cushioned seat. No matter how many times he’s pulled it off in the past, it still leaves you breathless as if it were the first time.
You circle an arm around his neck, the other clutching the box with a huff, “I was about to do an unboxing, you know.” 
“I know,” he confirms, and presses another kiss to your temple. “But you’re getting sleepy. Open it after a good night’s rest.”
A swirl of Evol pushes the doors open, his footsteps echoing down the hall and towards his sanctuary. Your mind willed to protest his attempt of procrastination, yet only a yawn pushed past your lips and proved his point.
Curling into his embrace, you faintly mumble into his neck, “I’m wide awake.”
“And the sun shines at midnight,” Sylus deadpans, unimpressed at your performance. “Don’t fight it. If you’re tired, then sleep. I’ll make sure the gift will be there when you wake up.”  “You promise?”
“With my heart,” he says.
It was a simple response, yet the timbre of his words imbued security and affection all the same. As if he meant more than just ensuring your box was safe, swearing to something beyond your greater comprehension. 
One blink lasted longer than the one prior, sweeping the thought and yourself away into soundless sleep. Another time, perhaps.
You would find out the following day that he stayed true to his word. In the quiet hums of the morning, a slumbering giant clung to your side, his breathing calm and unknowing you had finally peeled open the mysterious box. 
A finely crafted jewel twinkled amidst padded velvet, a clasp secured on one end. Engravings inlaid in a series of familiar dots and dashes; you couldn't help but softly laugh, a finger tracing the pattern.
(-... . .-.. --- ...- . -..)
Beloved.
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canthelpit0 · 10 months ago
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Silent
Pairing: Matt x reader
Wordcount: 1.8k +
Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…
Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc
(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)
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I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.
But it’s been years now.
I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.
Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.
It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.
It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.
There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.
Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.
The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.
Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.
In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.
Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.
He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.
I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.
I’ve been watching everyone.
Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.
Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.
I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.
But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.
Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?
I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.
There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.
I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.
Her son is apparently mute too.
When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.
Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.
So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.
Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.
I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.
She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.
I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.
I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.
I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.
Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.
I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.
I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-
Suddenly I bump into someone.
I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-
I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.
“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.
“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.
I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.
So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.
It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.
I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.
He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.
“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.
I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.
I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.
He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.
I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.
Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.
“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.
I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.
Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.
Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.
I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.
“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.
I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.
His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.
Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.
He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.
I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.
“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.
He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.
“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.
And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?
The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.
So I nod.
I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.
We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.
And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…
Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.
We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.
“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.
I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.
I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.
Masterlist
A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life
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opiopal · 7 months ago
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random mc stuff that I dont want to be their own post so HERE WE GO.(a lot if not most of theses are cracked out lmao)
imagine an Mc who noticed certain dirty things in the HOL and REALLY wanted to something about it but couldn't cause they were still a stranger. so once all the pacts are made Mc immediately goes around the HOL and attacks all the spots that bug them.. and isn't afraid to vocalize their complaints. "lucifer, when was the last time you guys washed these curtains?? you know what, don't answer that, I can already tell that the last time these were washed I hadn't even been born yet." "who is in charge of sweeping?? there is so much dirt under these rugs!! common guys, seriously???" "Mammon, Levi, twins.. I love you guys SO much.. this is commmon knowledge at this point... but cleaning your pillow cases is NOT enough you NEED to also wash the pillow itself. you guys are gross. gather up your pillows we're doing a soak." "beel. come here and lift me up. I'm dusting the chandelier." "Lucifer, I do not CARE if you're working right now your shelves are littered with dust. either ignore me or go take a break because I'm not leaving."
once during breakfast the brothers could hear cerberus growling and grumbling in the basement, it was annoying but they were trying to ignore it until they realized Mc wasn't at the table.... which of course once it was pointed out they all rushed to the basement.. only to find cerberus laying on its back and Mc sitting above it and quickly rubbing and scratching under each heads chins while going "good boys!!!! good puppy!!!!" and cerberus very happily whining and grumbling with their tail thumping on the ground. when they manage to get Mc away from the silly, the only explanation mc gives it "there is a massive three headed dog that lives in the basement and is feared by 6 out of the 7 men who live here, how could I NOT pet them??? clearly no one but lucifer does!!"
imagine an Mc who is a selective mute, and normally communicates through ASL and notes. the first time they talk is after knowing the brothers for a GOOD amount of time, and its not a sweet wholesome moment no no. Mc comes home with Lucifer after they finished running errands, and the HOL had been: flooded by levi summoning lotan, the living room had been torn up by satan, the kitchen was in pieces because beel got hangry, asmo had joined in on the chaos after his bedroom got damaged as well, mammon was struggling to keep everyone together, and belphie was sleeping on a chandelier. of couse it dies down the moment they all see lucifer and mc got home, and before lucifer could say anything Mc threw their ars up and went "guys what the FUCK we've hardly been gone for an hour!!" of course all the chaos is forgotten for a second and replaced by multiple "YOUCANTALK?!"s, which then shock and amazement turned to shame as they realize the first time they were graced by Mc's voice was because they were being idiots and Mc was upset at them.
imagine an Mc who isn't really used to people caring all that much about them, and finds it very odd that the brothers+other characters care so much. so once their birthday comes around its turned into a birthday WEEK because Mc is being gifted things and being taken out everyday until their actual birthday, which BAFFLES them, so when their birthday comes its a huge event, Dia hosts the party at his castle, there are so many presents you'd think it would be for a family of 18 on christmas day. and when Mc is sat infront of their cake they can't help but suddenly start crying, while everyone is panicking the only thing Mc can say is "I-*hic*- love you guys so much!!" once they realized it was happy tears there was much less panic, and it was forgotten about for the rest of the evening.
You guys remember my post about pacts marks and Mc feeling a demons sin really strongly after making a pact with them??? well this relates to that. imagine if mc feels something strongly that sin kind of takes over for a while until mc is satisfied (asmo enjoyers do what you want with that info), so imagine: theres just a day were Mc doesn't get the chance to eat, first they slept in and just had to rush to RAD, then they had to skip lunch because they agreed to help a few clubs with advertising and projects, then they had to stay after for a student council meeting, then, just as they think they can maybe grab a snack they get held up again, by the time everyone is going home all the brothers can sense Mc's aggression, half way to the HOL lucifer says that they should just go eat at hells kitchen. so they're all seated, and the second Mc's food gets out they dont even bother with utensils, they just grab their food with their bare hands and eat like they're a starved dog. of course the brothers are concerned as to why they're acting like this, and mammon reaches to put a hand on Mc's shoulder as he says "hey- are you ok-" but he cant even finish talking before Mc jerks their head and nearly takes a few of his fingers off, though they dont bite him cause he moves away fast enough with a "EEP" and Mc's teeth loudly click together. so from then on the brothers make sure that Mc is able to eat something throughout the day if their schedule is packed to reduce the risk of losing fingers. honorable mention is Mc getting praised to much one day that the amount of pride they feel almost puts lucifer into a coma.(satan and belphie sometimes praise Mc a bunch to distract lucifer while he's working, another cheeky win for the anti lucifer league)
imagine an Mc who gets so over protective of the brothers, like CRAZY protective. there is a point were they hear someone talking SHIT about their found family trope, so ofc the reasonable reaction is to tackle the demon down to the ground and almost bite their ear off like some sort of rabid raccoon. another time Mc squares up with some sort of magical mythical beast in protection of the brothers, almost won and would have if the brothers didn't stop them.
imagine an Mc who is very introverted and is secretly a fanfic writer, so one day levi and Mc are hanging out, he's just rambling about whatever, until he eventually mentions that a fic he was reading hasn't gotten updated in a while and ist just so frustrating to him. when Mc asks which fic he was reading, he pull it up and shows them... which Mc realizes thats THEIR fic... and outloud without thinking they mumble "oohh I forgot about that one..." and levi freaks out and immediately is questioning what they mean by that. which they eventually have to admit it.
Imagine a little kid Mc, I mean like, LITTLE, as in like 7-8 yr. and they are just such a sweeite, and they work so hard. but I can also imagine that when they're first sent there and the introductions are happening, when lucifer introduces himself Mc immediately interupts and goes "lucifer?? like the cat from Cinderella?:0" and then ofc when mammon is assigned to take care of the child he is a lot nicer at first, I wouldn't be surprised if having Mc around reminded him of his younger siblings when they were that small,(yes I am a believer of the brothers being at least little kids at some point in their angel lives) but then eventually gets Mc to go along with a few schemes, which they both have fun cause really it just turns into bonding. then ofc asmo adores this little creature and has little dress up parties and helps Mc get ready for school in the morning so they always look their best!! lucifer gave him permission for this since he agrees that Mc should look put together despite being a child. I still think it takes a while for the brothers to warm up fully to Mc, but it goes by a lot faster since mc quickly becomes their new little sibling. I think it would be cute if what won over lucifer is Mc coming into his office at some point, saying that they have something for him, and gives him a drawing, lucifer ends up scooping them up to sit with him and they explain what they drew, and its mc and all the brothers:( that drawing is almost immediately framed and put up where everyone can see it.
thats all for now, but I have a LOT of Mc what if's and imagines, my fingers hurt from typing now lol.
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sunlighthroughthe-ashes · 5 months ago
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i want to talk about how tenderly and tactfully the subject of trauma has been handled in family by choice. full credit to the original c-drama for the story — but the remake is my first introduction to the show and its premise.
families can be a person's first experience of a wound: that single unanswerable ache from which each of your hurts flow and fountain forward. it's rare for k-dramas to acknowledge this: to acknowledge that the individual to whom you are born may not belong to you. may not give you the grace you require to grow. may not take your small, hot hand; hungry for solace — and instead simply cast it aside. your family can be your first sharp disappointment — your first clear shock at the sheer ugliness of the world. to some, love is freely given — to others it is nothing more than a bone flung from a scant table. you hug the hunger like it's your own bed-pillow — it becomes your only home. the only house you ever live in.
through sanha & haejun's characters; one can see how the talons of trauma can mark you forever. both actors deserve accolades for the raw desperation and confusion in their eyes at the weight they're being asked to carry — especially inyoup. there's a muted, exhausted malaise in his eyes — the gaze of an adult caged within a teenager's body. by contrast, haejun appears younger than his years — a helpless, childlike hurt and betrayal borne by his eyes. both boys carry boulders unfit for such delicate shoulders — because there is a special kind of cruelty in asking a child to bear a burden that was never theirs to begin with. in lining their shoes with the gravel of grief since they were old enough to walk.
what does it to do to a child (in haejun's case) to be told that love is not intrinsic — and that it has to be earned? that it has to be paid back? what does it do to a child (in sanha's case) to be told that you are not enough as your own self — that you will never be forgiven for a flaw that was never yours to start with? what does it mean to taste a parent's neglect on your own tongue — to have it tint every part of your speech for the rest of time?
what does it mean to be a father to such children — as juwon's appa so fiercely upholds? to treat their scars as sacred. to harbor their hurts in his own hands. family by choice is as much about trauma as it is about healing — about the people knitted to you through their knowledge of your wounds; their patience with your past; their trust that your tears are temporary. about the neighbors, friends, and forged bonds that may not be of blood, yet sustain you nonetheless; surround your spirit with warmth. the people who choose you knowing the charred heartbreak in your chest — who love and accept you knowing the latticework of your loneliness: the people who press it all away with a single touch or smile – they are your true faith. they are your true family. they are the only ones who matter.
sanha, haejun, and juwon all have their crosses to bear — but they also have each other. there is always light to temper the dark. there is always sanha's eyes; and the way they soften when he looks at juwon: the jewel-toned reverence with which he reflects on every single thing she does for him. wherever there is trauma there is also and always a tryst with hope — a heart holding on to the idea that there will be more. there will be peace. there will be resolution. there will be sunlight at the end of the black silence.
family by choice reminds me of this quote by poet and novelist ocean vuong: "we were born from beauty. let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence—but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it."
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a-student-out-of-time · 5 months ago
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An Important Reminder In Trying Times
Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.
I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:
This Is Not The End.
I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.
What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.
Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.
There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.
From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.
Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.
Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.
You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.
Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.
Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.
Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:
Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.
Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.
If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.
Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.
Donate to good causes you believe in.
Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.
Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.
There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.
You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.
If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.
A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.
And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.
Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.
The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.
Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.
But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"
Then just be kind.
Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.
Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.
"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.
Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.
During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.
I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.
And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:
To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…
Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.
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jupitermelichios · 2 years ago
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Hey, we need to talk about the way Batfamily fans write Cass using ASL, because a lot of it is really fucking ableist
But Cass can't speak, of course she needs to sign!
Not true! There is nothing physically wrong with Cass's vocal chords or mouth, there's nothing in her brain stopping her from making sounds, and she is not an elective mute. She actually learns to speak individual words really quickly after she puts herself into an environment where that's a useful skill. Basil teaches her to quote huge chunks of Shakespeare in Nu52, and that's easier for her than forming simple sentences. That would definitely not be the case if she had any physical limitations on her speech.
Cass's disability is that she was not taught any language, and so she is having to grok the entire concept of language from the ground up. Grammar and syntax; tonality; how to combine words to convey more complex ideas; how putting two words next to one another can change their meaning; how to break down a whole idea into the individual parts needed to turn it into words; the fact that people's words might not line up with their tone and body language so you have to pay attention to both; how to tell if someone wants a response or is stating a fact; how to work out meaning from context if a word is new or someone has an unfamiliar accent; how to know if someone is using a new word or if they actually just have an unfamilar accent and all the ways words can be bent and changed before they become something new; the fact that two words can use the same sounds but have the same meaning; the fact that there can be two different words that mean the same thing. This is all stuff she didn't learn as a baby, and not knowing it would be just as much an impediment to learning ASL as learning English (for accent, swap out things like having limited movement in their hands, or having learned slightly different forms of the same sign, using a lot of home-signs etc, it's the same concept in a different medium).
There is no language on earth Cass wouldn't have these problems with. ASL is not any kind of shortcut.
But she reads body language, and ASL is kind of like body language right?
Not true, also pretty abelist! Just as the sounds which make up spoken language are essentially arbitrary (there's no objective reason why the sound "gud" should mean good, English speakers just all agree it does) so most of the signs in ASL are arbitrary! There's no reason for
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to mean good. ASL users just all agree that it does. Cass knowing body language would not help her any more with ASL than it would with English, and if anything, it might make it harder, because sign uses the whole body and therefore changes the way people use body language so unless she saw a lot of ASL users as a child (and there's no particular reason to think she did), she would have to adjust what she knows about body language to account for those differences!
But she signs in the comics!
Nope! She uses hand gestures to communicate sometimes, but that's not signing. Pointing at food and miming eating to convey hunger is not sign. Pretending to punch someone and pulling it at the last second to convey you could hurt them but won't (Cass's actual first communication with Bruce in the comics) isn't signing. I've done the point and mime thing in countries where I didn't speak the language, that does not mean I knew that country's native sign language!
But she learns ballet, that's like a physical language, so sign is the same thing!
Nope! Also low key kinda abelist. Dance is a method of communication, but it isn't a full language. There's almost no grammar or sentence structure, the vocabulary is extremely limited, and also you can just make up new dance moves or use moves from different styles of dance together and still convey your meaning (you cannot just make random gestures or use BSL and expect ASL users to understand you, because they're full complex languages). Cass vibes with dance pretty hard, but that's precisely because it isn't a language, it doesn't require any of the skills she struggles with in order to communicate emotion.
But ASL isn't like a real language, it's not as complex or nuanced as spoken English so it would be easier for her to learn
That is so fucking gross I don't even want to have this conversation with you. Go and sit in the timeout box and think about what you've just said, and then commit to doing better.
But I just think that once she learned it, she'd like using ASL because [it's very expressive/she's used to her world being very quiet/she can use it on stealth missions more easily/etc]
Valid, understandable, have a lovely day
But I'm writing an AU were she uses ASL because her backstory is too comic-book-y to fit in no-capes AUs but I didn't want to erase her communication difficulties so I've written her as having a different disability
Cool. Send me a link when you're done.
But what if I write her using makatong?
(For context, makatong is a form of sign developed for people who have intellectual or phsyical disabilities that affect language use, which uses more descriptive signs which require less precise hand possitioning than other sign languages, and which has very simple grammar, making it easier to learn than ASL). Yes this would be easier for her, because it's intended for people with similar difficulties to hers, but since her difficulties stem purely from a lack of experience which can be (and are, in canon) overcome with practise, it would be kind of needlessly limiting compared to her just starting out with very simple spoken language, and wouldn't give her as many chances to develop those language learning skills. Makatong is also not mutually intelligable with any other sign language, so she couldn't easily transition from that to ASL once she got used to signing, she'd have to start learning it from scratch.
But I HC her as deaf
There is 0 comics evidence to support that, but it's a headcanon, so who cares. You do you. Have fun.
But learning sign language would be better than learning to speak anyway because it's a universal language!
That is not even slightly how it work. Go read the wikipedia article on sign languages around the world or something. Do some research.
TL:DR; Cass does not use ASL in the comics, and nothing about her disability or sign languages in general would make learning ASL easier or more convinent for her than spoken English. That does't mean writing her signing is inherently bad, but you should examine your reasons for doing it to ensure you're not just perpetuating ableist stereotypes about the language.
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kazzsk2 · 8 months ago
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Info dumping about resurrected sacrifice au but it's from my text last night to someone who was willing to listen to my ramblings 😌
(Also these are the major outfits the lamb wears in this au)
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Anyways, in the au (specifically the resurrection on) it's separated into three parts right. And the story actually starts before the initial seven resurrections it to bring lamb back and make them stay. It's starts right at the time of the lamb's execution and I saw this one post about another person's au saying that the lamb would be executed in their wedding clothes so I kinda took that idea as well to a certain extent.
So basically lamb was executed in wedding attire which narinder took a certain way (kind of considered a miscommunication) and that kind of fueled the desire to resurrect lamb.
This was only heightened with seeing the last remnants of the lamb begin to dissappear like the followers that personally connected with the lamb dying from old age, the statues of them being dirty and covered in overgrown plants, and new decorations for narinder beginning to overtake the old ones. Narinder began to grow quiet and started to wear the viel around this time.
His siblings began to take notice of this, especially shamura. Shamura was the one to actually suggest the whole resurrection thing and though he meant well, this actually kinda ruined narinder's mental health
He began to obess over the possibility of bring the lamb back to the point he had to do the resurrections in secret to avoid his siblings from stopping him. Then, after the several resurrections, he gets the lamb to stay by a five year agreement and does his best over the first part of the story to get them to agree to stay after five years.
During this time, I wanted to make it very comedic but at the same time like super sad undertones. Like totally funny way of doing something but when you really pay attention to the words it's actually sad.
Nearing the end of this first arc is when narinder and lamb have an argument and lamb is like "why don't you beg for me to stay, since you're desperate for your dear vessel back" as more of a (idk the word) snag at narinder, not actually expecting him to do so. But he literally does so and that's when lamb is like "bro I think this is like seriously screwed up and we should talk through this like normal people" this is also the first time narinder vocally speaks as throughout the whole first part, he is mute besides sign language & when he does sermons/rituals for the cult.
This is when lamb & narinder talk and get their biggest insecurities and worries out in the air. The lamb's biggest one being that he's the last of his kind and death was the only way to be connected back with those he lost. Narinder's biggest was how he treated lamb like an object and without the love they deserved. His second being that it felt as though he always bought harm upon the lamb no matter how badly he tried to fix it.
This leads into the second part of the story which is the turn in the two's relationship (& where the lamb starts catching feelings). I want to use the trope where like one falls first but the other falls the hardest with like lamb and narinder with narinder falling first but lamb falling hardest. As they work through their problems and find ways around the ones they cannot fix that easily, the lamb begins to get the feelings & at first hates himself for it. He has a whole inner dilemma of fighting that he wouldn't stay for the 5 years, that narinder had been willing to kill him so easily for power what's stopping him from doing it again, and the fact that falling in love with narinder would be falling in love with the brother of those who murdered their kind.
They managed to (also totally random but I use the headcanon that lamb goes by they/he just in case cuz I keep switching it up) work through their thoughts tho and accept the fact that they have fallen for narinder and it isn't exactly a bad thing.
Most of this part is just the start of their relationship and working it all out like how any semi normal relationship between two people with deep pasts and hidden issues hidden in their bones work. The first half is all the nitty gritty and then the second half is pure fluff
& then the last part is just domestic life epilogue 😌 nothing really serious besides introducing the shitten (hehehe shit-ten).
Ok that's all
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gaykarstaagforever · 7 months ago
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Well if I'm going to use stupidass TikTok, I should find out what all the weird baby straights and soon-to-be-divorced tradwives are up to over there.
Today we learn about the "Clean Girl Aesthetic".
Near as I can tell, it basically means not looking or dressing like some kind of dumpster clown.
And there's a fascination with pleated slacks or shorts and exposed belly buttons.
Doubtless this is mimicking some lady all these people have seen on their TVs. Taylor Swift? Another lady? Who can say? Not me, because Taylor Swift is the only lady I know of.
I'm old enough to remember the predecessor of this style as a kind of late 80s / early 90s Yacht Club thing that was popular with movie bullies and other people no one liked. I'm sure it has a History of Fashion name but I'm not looking it up, because Google already doesn't know who the hell I am or what the hell to sell me. I know it was very polo-shirt heavy back then. Big pockets. Beiges and greys and muted colors, probably because the POOR PEOPLE were all dressing like dumpster clowns:
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But I looked up the Clean Girl thing to see exactly what probably-AI says it is:
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...So it is literally about not being dirty? Isn't all fashion, inherently? Was there a trend that was wearing filth recently? Filthcore? Dumpster clown?
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Well yeah, the midriff thing. But again, isn't all fashion inherently fatphobic? That's still bad, but kind of a universal in the world of people being dicks to other people about how everyone looks. The TRUE SOUL of fashion.
And that's not a new thing. Or is the Clean Girl thing especially virulently anti-fatty? Like to be a Clean Girl, you have to drive at least one fat person to contemplate suicide a month?
I mean that's awful, but TikTok is a lot of teenagers with stupid hair. I wouldn't put this past them. They're horrible little idiots. Look at their hair!
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...Wait so you guys are doing "brown = dirty"? In 2024? What Gulf Coast cave did you people crawl out of after a 150-year Rip Van Winkle nap? The War Between the States is over, and your side lost. How did you figure out TikTok so fast, displaced temporal stranger?
Can't we all just shut up and wear pants?
As for the stealing thing, white people have been stealing and recreating the things they stole from POCs, then excluding them from those versions of those things, for as long as there have been white people.
It's bad, but as it is our primary cultural trait, we're certainly never going to stop.
Especially not those hibernating cave people. They probably still think "the Curse of Ham" is a justifiable legal defense.
This is what Clean Girl looks like, in case you too want to dress like someone whose dad mismanages a major streaming platform:
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(I don't know who this model is. The picture is from a half-broken aggregator website in Foreign.)
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pythoness94 · 3 months ago
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of course you're a little shit. You're writing a fic with the biggest genocide supporter in the fandom. Noah Schnapp is a zionist who cheered on child murder. And you support that. You sick fucking freak.
once again, AWW THANK YOU FOR THE ASK AND KIND WORDS. Also, Noah isn't a zionist, people who say that should really do their research instead of just being a follower. In the wise words of Eddie Munson "you're a sheep, and not the good kind." Stop being a follower and open a fucking tab. Google bitch, because Noah wasn't the one holding those stickers, he isn't the person killing those people, he isn't supporting Jack Shit. Honestly, you people get so easily offended.
Do you wanna feel like a good person? Is that? You want to get the brownie points for doing nothing? Well let me lay it out for you. I help old and disabled people, I clean their houses, fill up their planners, help them with day to day tasks, and I just talk to them. I know someone who cannot physically move their body, only their hands and feet, and I have to wash them because they physically can not do it themselves. I know someone who is mute and has Alzheimer's so bad that they try to follow me home, they're in a home now because they ran out in the street naked and screaming. These are the lightest cases. I've seen so many people die, its not funny. I am waiting for the day I am allowed to volunteer at the hospital. I go out of my way to tell people I'm proud of them when they post of chapter, I make Google docs of media for people of things they like who feel bad and need something to cheer them up. I'm medically certified so I could help people, I have OSHA safety training so I can help people, I do everything I can to help PEOPLE.
You write words on the internet anonymously on a topic you don't even know about. We are not the same so don't you DARE even try to tell me what I am when you're to pathetic to say something with your chest. You're the sick freak, not me. I'd suggest you look in the mirror and evaluate what you've done with your life so far because it is never to late to change, and I would still be proud of you for doing so..just like I'm am proud of your accomplishments now, even if I only know you from this ask.
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midnight-mourning · 3 months ago
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Not Even a Mouse
❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 21❄️❄️
alright, y'all have had it too good for too long, have some angst (with a bit of fluff, of course) to balance it all out, hope you enjoy!
Prompt: If you don't fill all the spots,,, I'm gonna make a second request! Idk if you're doing any angst for this one, but if you are,,, something about Sun being alone for Christmas. Maybe he finds out the employees and Glams are having a party without him. Idk i just wanna make him sad. xD Don't feel obligated to do this one! This is just an extra if you want :P
Word Count: 1700
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The Daycare has a cold atmosphere to it, being so empty as it is. The music plays as always, tune just as cheery as ever, without a single listener. Save for one. 
Every toy is in its place, all the crafts supplies are put away. There's not a thing that isn't perfectly organized within the entire space. It's already been cleaned, one, twice, and now thrice, so there's not even a singular speck of dust. 
It's spotless. And desolate. 
The children are gone, it is the holidays after all. They wouldn't be back for another day or so. In the meantime, the attendant can only twiddle his thumbs and try not to go stir crazy in the meantime. 
There's others in the Plex of course, the other bots and some employees. But they, well. They aren't exactly friendly, when it came to either side of the Daycare Attendant. 
They were never exactly sure as to why. 
Both had tried to reach out, interact, engage, on multiple occasions. Each attempt being met with either unease, wobbly kindness, or downright hostility in some cases. It got to the point where both simply just, gave up. 
It was better to not try, they realized, it made things easier to keep to themselves and not bother anyone else. At least, Moon had learned this. It was arguably easier for him, given his status as naptime attendant. Isolation wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. 
But it was for Sun. 
While Moon was fine with the quiet, Sun was borderline inconsolable. 
And that was before he had found out about the holiday party. 
It had been a complete accident. Just so happening to be walking by on his way to gather clean stuffed animals from the laundry room. Two random employees chatting without a care in the world.
"Yeah, there's even a white elephant, come on, you gotta come!"
"I wasn't gonna miss it. Are the Glamrocks participating? I feel like it'd be funny to see what they come up with as gifts."
"I think so, yeah. It's gonna be..." They notice the Daycare Attendant, voice lowering. "—Great."
The other employee gives a confused look, then turns slightly to see the bot, eyes wide.
Not wanting to make things worse Sun simply nods in greeting, and goes on his way. 
Now, sitting alone in their room, scattered papers and old crayons surrounding him, he wishes he had said something. Wishes he had spoken up, argued, criticized, cried. Anything. 
Instead, he didn't. He just stood there and took it. 
The playtime attendant can picture it, dozens of employees and the other bots crowded together somewhere, probably the dance floor. Laughing, chatting, just enjoying the company of friends and coworkers. There's probably decorations everyone, to the nines even, based on how many boxes Moon saw people carrying around earlier that week. 
Holiday music and snacks, and of course, the gift exchange. Competing for the best gift, and having a wonderful time doing it.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they were so hated. That he was so disliked. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment? This kind of hurt?
The Glamrocks were good enough, so why wasn't he—
There's a muted snap, causing the bot to jump and glance down to his hand. 
Another broken crayon to add to the collection. 
With a scoff he tosses it away, towards the wall not too far in front of him. It wasn't a hard throw, but apparently it was enough. 
The sound of fluttering paper can be heard as a single page falls to the ground. It piques Sun's interest, and he shifts to take a closer look. 
It's a drawing of him, one done in pencil, maybe charcoal—he'd never thought to ask—as opposed to the usual paint and crayons the kids utilized. 
Though that would be because a child didn't make it for him. You did. 
At least, he's 99% sure. You'd scurried off before he could ask. 
You worked in the gift shop, passing by the Daycare every day for work. And every day, either one of the attendants would catch you staring as you walked by the large windows. Ducking your head and rushing off whenever you got caught. 
You'd only spoken to them a handful of times, when you happened to come in to speak to the security guard about something. Sun was never quite sure why you needed the guard so much, but he didn't think to question it either. 
Your voice was always very soft, mumbling. If he didn't have such well-adjusted noise sensors he'd probably not be able to hear you. He didn't know why you were so quiet, you had a lovely voice. 
He wished you say more, on your visits. Your words always stuttered and brief. But he cherished those moments. Every little interaction was saved in several locations in his hard drive just to make sure he didn't lose them. You were probably the only person who would bother talking to him or Moon. That was precious. 
He picks up the drawing, admiring the detail you'd put into it. For something of this quality, he didn't know why you were working in the gift shop. Maybe you were doing something else, like college, and this was a temporary situation for you in the long run. 
He remembers when you gave it to him, he'd at least gotten a direct interaction, you'd slipped Moon's under the door one night before going home. 
He believes it's because of your encounter that you just ran away the second time, and he can't say he blames you. 
You'd been nice enough to knock, having been the very end of the day, the last child having been picked up just a few minutes prior. 
When he opens the door, you're looking to the ground, clutching the paper in your hands tightly. 
Surprised, but happy to see you, he speaks first. "Hello there, friend! It's good to see you!" 
"U-um, hi...." You say, still looking down. "Good, good to see you too."
You're nervous for some reason, though you're always nervous he realizes. 
He wants to fix it. He tries with a joke. "Well, you can't see me very well from there can you?"
It doesn't land. You flinch, but look up. "S-Sorry."
Stupid. Stupid. Fix it.
"Oh! Not a worry at all, Sunbeam. I just wanted to see you're smiling face." His rays spin. 
Your eyes widen. "Really?"
"Of course! A lovely smile on a face like yours just makes my day!" Surely that'll do it, let you know he's being sincere.
Your internal temperature rises, fluctuating around your cheeks and ears. Now he's gone and made you mad. Great, this is going so great, he's blowing it—
You shove the paper into his hands. "This is for you. I-I, I have to go now. Buh-bye!"
Before he can say another word you're gone, running back towards the main entrance, leaving him with an amazing drawing, and not so amazing thoughts. 
You hadn't come back into the daycare since then, which could only mean that you hated him now too. Sun rubs his thumb over your signature on the page, at least he still had this. 
The sound of laughter growing closer interrupts his thoughts. And, curiosity getting the better of him, he goes to take a look. 
Peeking out the curtains, he can see a group of employees walking by. You're among them, smiling and chatting all the while. 
Just outside the Daycare you stop, waving to the group. 
"I think I forgot my jacket in the gift shop, I'll see you guys later! Happy holidays!" 
They bid you farewell, and Sun's planning to shut the curtain again, not wanting to be weird and watch you go about your business, when he picks up on your odd behavior. 
You watch your friends leave and then glance around a few times. Then, you pull out two small, wrapped gifts and walk over to the Daycare doors. After a moment he hears a knock. 
His rays spin, and he acts before he thinks. He dives into the ball pit and as soon as he makes contact is immediately scrambling out of it and heading for the door. He takes a moment to collect himself, then opens it. 
To his shock, you speak first. "Hi Sunny! It's good to see you. I, I wasn't sure you'd be around. I um, having something for you! And, and Moon." You hold up the gifts. 
Sun short circuits. 
You got him a gift. 
You.
The person he thought hated him like all the rest. 
You thought of him, were actively thinking of him. 
And you called him Sunny.
"If, if that's okay. Sorry if I'm bothering you. I just, I really wanted to get these to you tonight. I, I thought you were going to be at the party, I was um, kinda sad you weren't. But I totally get it if parties aren't your thing! They're... not really mine either but um, god I'm rambling here I'm sorry." You look up to him then, concern in your gaze. "Are, are you okay?"
It occurs to the playtime attendant that his fans are roaring now. He has to get you to stop before he overheats. Time to play his role. 
"Ah! I'm alright friend! I'm happy to see you too! And I appreciate the thought, truly." He takes your hand, and without thinking, raises it to his smile for a kiss. "It means a lot. Would, would you like to come inside for a moment?"
Now you're frozen, temperature climbing in a matter of seconds. 
"I would really like that."
His rays spin out of his control. "Great. Great! Please,"—he stands straight, waving his other hand behind him—"Come on in."
You keep your hand in his, squeezing gently. "O-okay."
As the door closes behind the two of you, Sun decides that he doesn't really care if missed the holiday party or not. He doesn't really care if everyone hates him and Moon either. 
If he can have just this moment to share with you, and maybe more. Maybe even becoming friends?
That's enough.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Thank you @zenkaiankoku for the request! Enjoyed having a bit of angst to write hehe, still made it a little fluffy in spots but I think it still works ^-^
Masterpost link
Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8
@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles
@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva
@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a
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npookie0 · 22 days ago
Note
Hi! Can I request something? It's my first time requesting in tumblr Here I go! Can you do a one-shot with V with a reader who's a mute? I sorta need a comfort fic right now. If It's okay! I love your Ronin fanfic about it
Loud in the Silence.
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V x mute!g.n.reader, comfort, fluff
Words: 3354
Cws: spoilers for Killer Chat!
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"Mx Y/n, please try to say 'hi'." Your therapist told you, she's been telling you the same thing for years now.
Years of speaking exercises, therapy and many other exhausting things. Even with so many procedures, you were still unable to talk and your doctors were slowly loosing all hope for your case. Every doctor you visited kept on reassuring you that you can overcome your muteness, but no matter how much effort you've put into the exercises, it all ended in vein.
This time was no different, you were leaving the doctor's office, resignation in the man's eyes, exhaustion on his face. You were a lost cause, you accepted it a long time ago. Not speaking wasn't so terrible... alright it was. It was a lot. You hated it, hated being treated like a lost child, like someone weak who needs others to do things for them, the special treatment. Being treated like some kind of alien because of your muteness was the worst.
I'm used to this. You kept on telling yourself, bottling your feelings inside, shutting away from the world and people who hurt you.
You've reached home, put your bag on its place, kicked off your shoes and made your way to your study-bedroom to work some more on your serial killer book. You wanted to be a new promising criminal novelist, that was your dream since forever.
Writing was the only form of escapism for you, the only thing you didn't feel judged for not talking. People only cared about the words you wrote, not the ones you said. It brought you comfort, something to keep you away from these overwhelming thoughts that made your mind so unbearably heavy.
This doesn't feel right".
You grunted in frustration, erasing a whole freshly filled page. This character, they felt so unrealistic, the murder was poorly executed, nothing made sense. You will never be a great author if you will continue on like this. It was fine time you touched some... less than legal resources.
After days of leaving interesting question on the dark web and feared your IP getting leaked anytime you received a reply to your posts.
You opened the site, wrote up a new post and clicked "send" then you noticed a new private message, you opened the chat, the person was marked as unknown. Of course they were. They sent you a link and a key, you were curious so you opened the link and filled in the password.
A chatting site showed up on your screen, you were in the main channel that slowly got flooded with welcoming messages. It was weird. A server with eight members, made specifically on the dark web of all places. It definitely screamed trouble from distance, but you already joined and there was an active threat that whoever owns the server has your IP, so why not stay?
<Y/n>: Hello, thanks for the warm welcome.
You sent your first message.
<goreboy>: your welcome darlin' <goreboy>: check out the rules, there's not much but y'know
You took a note of the person by the name "goreboy" words and entered the channel.
<goreboy>: be a serial killer, First rule of fight club <goreboy>: oh yeah and don't be transphobic, racist and just weird or angel will Snipe ya
<Angelic> And that's a promise, not a threat.
Serial killer? That has to be a joke or some stupid roleplay.
You thought, it was the most logical conclusion you could come up with. These people couldn't be serial killers, why would serial killers make a whole server anyway? It's probably some silly roleplay made by bored people who were too deep into their roleplay and decided to use the dark web as their domain. Yes, that sounds logical.
But what if these are real serial killers?
Doubts began to cloud your mind, there was no reason for them to lie about this either. You had to find out the truth some way. Asking them about it would be suspicious. A supposed serial killer asking other serials if they truly are who they say they are? Yeah that's your one way ticked to a grave.
You scanned the server members and an idea came to your mind.
Why not ask a specific person about their identity?
That idea should work, there was no way it would flop, or so you hoped.
<Y/n>: @/K9, are you the serial killer who kills other bad people?
You sent the message. Why did you choose that person? You didn't know, this member seemed to be the most interesting out of all the others.
<K9>: I refuse to be associated with these wild beast. I am a vigilante.
<goreboy>: don't Listen to v, he's As killer as The rest of us are.
Oh, I am seriously in a den of serial killers... how exciting.
Logic told you to leave, call the police and let them handle this, but something stopped you. You could use this as an opportunity to shape your story, get to know how the other serials operate, get inside their heads in a way. What better way to learn than by making them believe that you are one of them?
Two weeks had passed, you've been enjoying your time playing pretend with the killers and hoping that they won't learn about your serial killer persona being just an act.
You entered the #killer_shit channel to see some discourse started by Misaki about blood art, a curious choice for a topic, but these people also talked about gutting someone open or what torture methods are the most painful.
<goreboy>: hey Y/n, you've Been here for weeks by Now and we still don't know shit about ya <goreboy> isn't it a li'l weird?
Shit.
Of course, it couldn't be too easy. You should have expected them to catch up on the way you were more of a lurker and that you rarely participated in murder talk.
<LUCA_IS_SO_COOL>: Yeah dude you're totally rightttt
<Y/n>: Isn't being a mystery a good thing? ^^"
You didn't really know what to do so you had to improvise. A serial killer could want to not reveal a lot about themselves, right?
<goreboy>: i mean, if ya Want someone To open you up and see your li'l secrets then im After the job, darlin'
Okay maybe being an enigma wasn't such a great idea as you originally thought.
<goreboy>: c'mon, let's have A voice call Reveal
<hitmeuppp>: OMG yesss we should do that!!!
<LUCA_IS_SO_COOL>: I second this!!!1
<Felicite>: I third this...!
Oh you are in so much trouble.
You obviously can't join the call, unless you magically overcome your muteness in five seconds or less and telling them that you have to stay on mute would make you sound like some cop trying to get information about them.
Your hands were sweating as they hoovered over the keyboard, barely tapping on the letters you wrote.
<Y/n>: I'm very sorry, I can't call now.
You left the chat after you sent this, too stressed to see their replies, you didn't want to see their disappointment or anger.
While you were worrying about the consequences of your words, a pop up shown on your screen; K9 wants to DM you.
You blinked a few times. What does he want?
V didn't strike you as someone who would message you out of the blue, he didn't show up on the server much after you joined, unless Ronin made a new announcement or the topic was "immoral" enough.
You agreed to the request and then received a message.
<K9>: Is there a reason for your inability to call right now?
Oh wow, he's forward.
You bit your lower lip. What should you do now? Lie? Tell the truth? You didn't want to hide the truth about being mute, but seeing it in your texts with someone felt humiliating.
Then, another idea popped into your mind. It was risky, could fail or give you more trouble, but it could also make one serial killer (or a vigilante in this case) side with you.
You prepared the item for your plan and called V, not asking him if is able to have a short call now.
To your surprise he picked up and he looked better than you could ever imagine a serial killer to look like. Beautiful eyes that looked at your coldly and judgemental, dark braids put up in a ponytail and falling down his shoulders. He looked majestic, you can't remember ever seeing as handsome.
Stop, stop, stop. This is not the time for this.
You scolded yourself in your mind, you can dote over the way he looks some other time, you had a plan to go through with.
Before you could say anything you moved the notebook that you were nervously holding in your hands to the camera, somehow the text on it wasn't inverted.
You watched him mouth the message you wrote; I am mute, I can't speak. His face froze in shock, shock turning into understanding.
Not pity, not sadness, not disgust like some other people you knew. Just pure understanding, acceptance. It almost made you tear up. For the first time someone didn't judge you for your disability, didn't flood you with uncomfortable questions or declared that they'll teach you how to speak.
"I see. it would be truly uncomfortable to join a call in this situation." He said.
Oh gosh, even his voice is just amazing.
You nodded your head and wrote another message, showing him the notebook again; Yes, I don't think that I'm ready to share it with the whole server, yet.
"Ah, of course, that's completely understable. You are in no way obligated to tell anyone about your situation." Hs words were rational, they were what you already knew, but for some reason they felt comforting. It felt validating to know that there was someone who agreed with you, who didn't expect you to spill everything out.
I'm glad you understand me.
You could swear that there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
"Well, now that we're here, do you feel comfortable answering my questions?"
Here we go again with the interrogation, why can't they just leave me alone?
At least this time you have a way out of this; Can we do it some other time? Admitting my disability was already a lot. It wasn't a complete lie, you did feel overwhelmed by coming clean about your muteness like this.
"Ah, yes of course, rest well, Y/n." V said before he hung up.
You were left alone with your thoughts again and the open draft for your story that you still needed to build a protagonist for. You will think about it some other time... You are in a dire need of rest now.
Some time later and you were on another call with V, this time he knew your made up serial killer alias, you learned his Modus Operandi and he decided to play a game of 20-but-I-will-make-it-3-since-you-so-kindly-asked questions on a call with you.
"Were you born mute?" His first question was bold, but you were expecting questions like this, even though other people usually make them sound much more gentle.
Yes, I can't remember ever saying a word in my life, nor does my mother or the doctors we visited. You replied, using your notebook again. V was very much alright with this method of communication, or he just never expressed having anything against your conversations looking like this.
"Mhm. I see." His response was simple, not prying on any more details than what you were ready and comfortable with revealing. You could respect him for this, it even made you feel very happy for some reason. "Do you not know sign language?" This question was... unexpected. No one was ever interested in that part, well mostly because they didn't know how to sign themselves.
Writing this reply took you longer than you thought, because you never had to think about an answer for so long before. I never felt the need to learn, more people knows how to read then how to sign and it's simpler. You didn't add the part about not having enough people in your life to learn how to sign for, he didn't need to know that part.
This response surprised him, he probably never met someone so laid back in a way when it comes to things like that. "Oh, I understand. Well, I know how American, British, German and a few other versions of sign language, if you'd ever feel the need I could teach you."
His offer caught you off of guard, V telling you that he could teach you how to sign? You thought that this could be a dream with how surreal it seamed. He was especially kind to you for the time you knew him, sure, but to the extend that he'd spend his time on being a teacher for a mute (supposed) serial killer? The more time you spend with him the more surprising V turned to be.
"Are you not okay with this?" You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't realise that you still haven't replied to him.
Oh, no, no! I'm really thankful for the offer, I could consider taking you up on this if I ever felt like it. You replied and gave him a big beaming smile. Somehow the thought of V trying to teach you how to sign was exciting to you, it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
Oh, I'm so lost in this game.
The realisation was hard, sure, even confusing. Falling for a vigilante was never in your plans when you took this journey, but was it a bad thing? Well, yes! You could end up dead if he found you out, thought whenever you tried to bring you not being a writer up to him ended with him scoffing and saying that he knows how Ronin operates and that he'd never invite a non serial to the server.
Maybe it won't be as bad as you think it could be? V is tender, caring, he is easily flustered, his smile is sweet and he's a protector who deeply loves his animals, even if he never admits to the last part. Heck! He even found a bird and name it after you, is that not a perfect romance potential then what is?
I'm seriously insane for considering a killer my potential partner... Well! Taste is subjective!
January came faster than you thought, and so did a sudden love confession from V. His words made your heart melt, you reciprocated his feelings. You would be a fool if you didn't.
You really did take him up on that sign language offer, learning the most basic and easy signs that you could need the most.
"It would be easier if I could do this with you in the room with me." V sighed when your try to sign 'where' ended up with it being very floppy and apparently making an insult in another language.
These words birthed yet another genius idea in your creative mind. Then why don't you pay me a visit? All that trying to hunt me down and I'm to believe that you have nothing on me? A bold move on your side, but you either go big or don't go at all.
V looked at you, squinting his eyes like he was thinking about something really important. "You are right my love, why don't I teach you how to sign face to face?" He gave you a soft smile. "Did I ever tell you how smart you are?"
Yes, but you're free to praise me more, love. You stuck out your tongue at him when you gave him the response and his face flushed.
"There's not enough words, or signs, that could describe your genius or beauty, my love." And now you were the one blushing and losing your words.
Damn him, and his stupidly sweet praise.
Valentine's day. What a better time to meet with your serial killer boyfriend than that? Well, you probably could think of a few dates at the top of your mind, but Valentines worked as perfect as those other days too.
You were dressed up nicely, you would be meeting V for the first time you had to look at least presentable. You were fidgeting with your pen. This was seriously stressing you out in a way that you couldn't explain.
There were the butterflies, the excitement and love, but there was also worry, at he'd find out and harm you. You trusted V, but would he trust you if he knew? It was the uncertainty that scared you so much, you couldn't expect anything from a man who fed his animals with the people he killed.
The sound of the doorbell rang in your ear. There's no time for doubts, no chance to back away now. You took a deep breath, looked at yourself for the last time in a mirror and made your way to the front door.
You opened them and felt your knees weaken when your eyes met him. As elegant as ever, with the softest of soft smile on his lips, gentleness and affection in his eyes.
You melted under his gaze. Your happiness getting the best of you because you almost pulled him into a hug.
"Hello, my love." He took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. "You look absolutely wonderful today." He said.
With pink cheeks and new warmth in your body, you let him in, showing him the way to your living room.
The two of you sat down on the sofa, you were ready to give him a note proposing tea or coffee, but he was faster. He outsretched a hand towards you, he was holding a notebook in that hand.
With a raised eyebrow you took the notebook and opened it. You almost dropped it when you read what was written inside.
My love. No words can describe my feelings towards you, you made my life better with your presence alone, made me realise and find out so many new things about myself. I never felt this way towards anyone, I can't tell if this is how most people feel, but that is how I feel while bein in love with you.
You expressed your worry about being mute many times before, and I can't help but wonder what cruel people would ever dare to act this way and say such absurd words towards you. Mute or not, you are perfect and I am really glad that I am able to spend time in your company and have your love and be the person who you feel safe with and shared the secret with.
I love you, Valentin Viljoen.
You could feel the tears run down your cheeks. No one has ever done this for you, put so much effort into something for you. You tried to wipe away the tears, but with how many were there it was almost impossible.
You looked at V, your vision was blurry from the tears but your could see the gentle smile on his face and he cupped your face with his hands and caressed your cheeks.
"You are a good person, my love. Your heart says more than any words, you are louder than any person who can speak that I know. Communication is more than just words, it's your expressions, your actions. Don't think that your muteness makes you worse or any less of a person."
You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly and letting those happy tears out.
Never in your life have you expected yourself to cry in someone's arms, know that they love you unconditionally even if they know that there are things you're hiding.
You let go off the hug and with shaky hands and the most crooked and probably stupid looking smile signed.
< I love you. >
Not even silence can conquer the feeling between the two of you.
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Gahhhh it feel so good!!! I'm proud of this >w<
I want to thank my dearest discord parent Kage for making their music because it carried me through the process of writing!!!
I love you all!!! -N <3
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velvetures · 1 year ago
Text
COD AU: Intro
AN: I love this. I have so many thoughts in my head. So many it’s killing me inside. Please enable me. God I hope at least one of you likes this enough to talk to me about it. To hc, to literally just share my words with. And yes…. There is a very heavy Ghost/romance element… but I’m totally not against picturing the other options ahaha.
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So I’ve been thinking….
An AU where everyone needs to lay low for a while. Maybe they’re all compromised and someone with enough power and money shows interest to take out the 141 forever. And Laswell, being the problem solver that she is, suggests a safe house of someone close to her. Someone who can be trusted. Not just to provide somewhere physically safe, but also keep a close eye on the team while they’re -somewhat- forcibly being cut off from the world.
So the team are flighted into the middle of god-knows-where in the mountains. A tiny little town -if you can call it that- and they meet their contact.
Not only a girl… but civilian.
She refers to Laswell as Aunt Kate and the Captain and Uncle John. Sweet as can be, and so damn helpful that it’s almost infuriating. Especially to Ghost. She hasn’t seen a single thing about them other than what Laswell has offered, and really appears like she couldn’t care less about opening her house up to them. A house just big enough to fit all four men.
Ghost isn’t sure about the whole thing. It feels wrong being holed up in the deep holler of an Appalachian mountain with a girl not twenty-five. Like some kind of fucked-up movie he wasn’t aware of being cast for. It’s all too strange walking inside her house and seeing photos on the walls, a massive rack of cast iron skillets and pots hanging above her kitchen island, and the way she looks at Price so fondly.
Uncle John…
Something about it rubs him wrong. There’s got to be history there… at least enough for her to feel the right to call Price that. But he’s never heard of her before. And this kind of arrangement isn’t one to taken lightly. There are people hunting the 141… A threat so well documented that they couldn’t even just turn a blind eye and wait for the smoke to clear.
The sweet thing doesn’t notice Ghost’s apprehension.
But she does recognize Price’s excitement in seeing her, as well as his slight disappointment that she’d offered to do this. She’s too good to get involved in matters of war, and he’s honestly surprised that Kate let you. But then again, there could only be so much disappointment he could find in seeing his goddaughter. And funnily enough, there’s a sense of relief he has in seeing how well she’s done for herself since he saw her last.
Intelligent, scarily so. But not in an overt way. He can see it in the way she collects rainwater for watering the little garden out back, and the pistol safe tucked under her bed with a thumbprint scanner. He notices the small town she’d bought her home in, and the relatively tight community. Maybe a little old-fashioned… but it’s good in case something goes wrong. And right now, it’s paying off.
Unbelievably welcoming too… but Kate and John always knew there’d come a day when she’d get a chance to ‘mother’ someone. And now she’d have four men to do exactly that for. Even from day one, she’s already made trips to the store, rearranged her whole home, and bought god-knows-what in anticipation for their arrival.
What’s each of your favorite food, I’ll make lists so I never run out of dinner ideas.
Any preferences on how I should come and go around my the house? I don’t want to startle anyone.
Did you need anything you didn’t bring? If I can’t get it in town or online I’ll text Aunt Kate and have her get it…
She’s nearly frantic to get them settled, and everyone reacts in a muted tone of shock save for Price. He’s well-aware thanks to Kate about how excited she is… something about wanting to prove herself. And Jesus if it doesn’t make Price feel a bittersweet burn in his chest as he introduces her to the others. Seeing her wide eyes examining all of them without the slightest hesitation. Memorizing names and faces, and shaking massive, gloved, hands without missing a beat.
She’s got Soap wrapped around her finger on instant. Maybe it’s a big-brother feeling. One like Price holds for her. Since she’s younger than him -unlike his own sisters- there’s something of a chance to be one for a while. Soap almost instantly takes to her Appalachian lilt and bright smile. They’re both too sweet for their own good at times… and Price can tell right away there won’t be a knife sharp enough to cut the two of them apart after this.
Gaz is quietly polite is a way only he can be. Meticulously trying to stay out of her way as she flutters about. Wanting to help her out, but also downright flustered when she demands she be the one to carry their bags to their rooms. It’s a clear sign he’s not used to it… A woman being this damn sweet and intent on ‘helping’ a man. But he takes it in stride. Learning how to help without stepping on her decidedly ‘southern comfort’ style of catering to them. And god if Price doesn’t have to chew the tip of his cigar when she gets on his ass about something. The poor sod looks like a kicked puppy… and he’s certain she’ll end up training him with due time.
Christ above. If Ghost isn’t the most difficult bastard to deal with initially.
He’s much more sour than typical. Lurking in corners, and unable to settle down anywhere for more than an hour. He looks caged in by the comfortable couch and throw blankets. Swallowed by her pleasantly creaky porch swing and sun-couch on the wraparound. Not even her well-used garage housing an old Fold flatbed makes a good refuge for Ghost. She’s all encompassing in a way he can’t come to terms with easily.
Price sees her trying the hardest with him.
The way her voice lowers when addressing him. How she makes a conscious effort to tiptoe around the house after 10pm because that’s when he shuts himself inside his bedroom… She doesn’t exactly know he never sleeps. Dinners are often served close to the time he finally realizes he’s got to come back inside the house… and without fail, she can be found sitting near him.
Not friendly by any means.
But more like a girl who’s found an old bait-dog at the pound and can’t leave well-enough alone. Sitting with her back it to and tossing treats over her shoulder. Hoping silently that the old, scarred, dog will come around. Damn near predatory in a sweet kind of way. Price can tell she means well. She can see the same thing everyone else on the team can… and she’s just going about it her way.
She’s good like that. Maybe a little too good.
But John can’t deny he enjoys seeing it. All of it really. The way she dotes on them individually. Consistently. Hell, she even does their laundry and bought separate baskets to keep things neat and tidy. The fridges -yes… multiple- all are set with their preferences in drinks, and she’s scarily observant when things need replaced. Toothpaste… shoelaces… socks… there’s no missing anything. Brands and sizes don’t seem to be a problem either, to some shock and mortification.
Uncle John, what’s Soap mean when he says he misses Irn-Bru?
His quick and unconcerned explanation goes without another notice… until he sees Johnny taking a long drink from a bottle of it while sitting on a rocking chair on the back porch watching some hummingbirds fight over richly dyed sugar water.
John’s often preoccupied with worrying about the plans of those head-hunting them and what Kate’s doing behind the scenes in the meantime. But it’s clear there’s nothing concerning his goddaughter but whether or not they’re all fed, warm, and comfortable in her house…
Whether Ghost likes it or not.
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Comments are so heavily appreciated on this… I want to make this more of what I talk about & I can’t keep it all on a notebook under my bed.
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