#and i can never be normal and needed to animate it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaliforniahigh · 1 day ago

Note

Can I have something angsty,sad,fluffy,(smutty if you want) ?

Reader is on the thicker/chubby side (a few tummy rolls and thick thighs) and she thinks Noah is only with her to say he's been with a fat chick or it's some fetish thing. Reader doesn't understand how he can be attracted to someone like her. Normal 9-5 job, not rich, shitty apartment, shitty car...just getting though life and they met by chance. Maybe he liked that she treated him like a regular person even though she knew who he was, like a "yeah, I know who you are...so what 🙄😐🤷🏼‍♀️" kinda thing.

Not gunna lie the "never been with a big girl" shit has happened way more than I'd like...and honestly, I've been really hating my body lately 😔

Thank you so much for this request! I know it took me a long time to get to it and I'm so sorry about that! I hope you still like it <3

Warnings: reader is a little hard on herself, Noah also feels insecure. Reader is fatphobic towards herself :( Besides that, this is fluff.

WC: 5.9k (this is long and I haven't proofread it yet!)

My requests are currently closed!

Noah was back home in Virginia for a couple of weeks. He really just went because his best friend, Nicholas, had begged him to. There was nothing left for him in this place anymore, and there hasn't been for years.

Even though he had a lot of bitter memories from his time here, he really tried to enjoy the moments he spent with his old friends, reconnecting and telling each other how their lives changed over the years.

Right now, he was at a bonfire, sipping on his beer, despite the chill weather that fall brought along. He looked around and saw many faces he didn't recognize from years ago. To his left, Nicholas was socializing, and he thought about how things haven't changed that much after all. His friend was always better at this than him.

His eyes were fixed on you, like they have been a couple of times during the night. You were hard to miss, with your orange knit sweater and beanie keeping your head warm. He didn't remember seeing you before, if he had, he would surely remember it.

You talked animately with your hands, sporting smile on your face that made your eyes crinkle. If he could describe your aura, it would be warm and inviting, and he felt a pull towards you, suddenly having the urge to come up to you and stike up a conversation.

He held himself back, though, because you seemed very engrossed in the conversation you were having with your friends, and he didn't want to intrude or bother you.

"You're still brooding in the corner?", he was so distracted by you, that he didn't even notice Nicholas approaching him.

"I'm technically not in a corner", Noah pointed to the wall he was leaning against. Nicholas fixed him with a look.

"You should try and talk to a few people, at least this one time", Nicholas sounded like a mom scolding a child and it mildly irritated Noah.

"I will, once I finish this beer", he settled on saying, but deep down, they both knew that Noah would stay in this exact same spot for the rest of the night.

"Whatever, man. I'll talk to Josh over there, he said something about Eric cheating on Alex with their babysitter, and I wanna know all about that. Do you remember Alex from high school?", Noah scrambled his brain, and he could vaguely remember an Alex from high school.

"Is she the one who fell down the bleachers once?", he asked, the memory slowly coming back to him. He should feel bad that this embarrassing moment is what he remembers her by.

"That's exactly the one", Nicholas exclaimed, his hand slapping against Noah's chest. "Apparently her luck didn't get any better. I'll get the scoop and then I'll tell you on the way home", Noah smiled at his friend's antics and watched him walk away.

Averting his gaze back to the gathering happening around him, he found himself watching you again. He really needed to break his habit, otherwise you would think of him as a total creep. His stance and unapproachableness already didn't help him at all. He decided to go look around for something to eat, sure that he saw some snacks around here somewhere.

"He's leaving", your friend said beside you. You had to keep yourself from looking at him. Your friends have been annoying you for the last 15 minutes about the hot guy who apparently couldn't stop looking at you.

"Good, would you stop bothering me now?", you said.

"Y/N, you need to talk to him. Have you seen this man? He is hot and he's totally into you", Charlie said, an exciting tone on her voice.

"And you gathered all that from the few minutes we've been standing here?", you looked at her with a disbelieving look on your face.

"We've been here for at least forty minutes and he hasn't stopped looking at you!", she exclaimed, as if she had it all figured out.

"He could've been looking in the general direction, not at me", you reasoned, trying to forget the way his gaze felt on you. He couldn't have been looking at you out of all people from your group of friends.

"Y/N", Charlie sighed, the excitement vanishing from her features. "You need to stop sabotaging yourself. Why is it so impossible for a man to be interested in you?"

"I don't know, Charlie. I'm gonna go grab another drink, ok?", you did what you always do when someone brought this up in conversation, you left and didn't look back.

Is not that you thought it was impossible for this man to be interested in you, you just thought it was unlikely. You spotted him right when he walked in, his height made him impossible to ignore. And even though he was wearing a hoodie, you saw the tattoos all over his neck and hands, the latter making you incredibly flustered. You never thought you could find someone's hands so attractive.

Meanwhile, you came to this gathering right from work. Your hair was a mess and you had no option but to slap a beanie over it. Your outfit was nothing interesting, just a sweater to keep you warm in the changing weather. Thinking about it now, the color was even a little silly. Who wore orange sweaters?

You arrived at the table where the drinks were set, eyes surveying for something interesting and non-alcoholic, since you drove here. You were so engrossed with whatever was in front of you, that you almost - almost - didn't notice a presence beside you. Like you said, he was hard to miss.

"You, hmm... you need help finding something?" You heard a voice and you knew exactly who was next to you. You looked at him and the first thought that came to your mind was how tall he was compared to you.

He had to look down to meet your eyes and you had to crane your head back to look back at him.

"Oh, I'm just looking for something that's non-alcoholic", you answered him, with a little laugh, knowing that those beverages were hard to find in these places.

"Yeah, it's going to be a little difficult", he said, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the table set in front of you.

"It's ok, I kind of expected it. I'll just go look for dome water", you shrugged your shoulders.

"Wait, I think I saw some stuff in the fridge earlier. Do you want me to get it for you?", he pointed at the house behind the both of you. His eyes were hopeful, like he wanted to do this for you. You thought it was adorable the way he actually wanted you to have something else other than water, and you didn't have the heart to teel him no. So you said yes and saw him walk into the house.

While you waited, Noah was crossing his fingers that his friends had something in the fridge other than booze and stale food. Yes, he lied to you about seeing something in the fridge earlier, but he couldn't let you drink water at a party. He also didn't know where the urge to please you came from, but the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He made his way to the fridge and opened it, and he immediatly spotted a few cans of Red Bull. They were of different colors - probably some tropical flavor - and he hoped you liked energy drinks, otherwise, he would look like a fool in front of the girl he thought was extremely cute.

He grabbed one of them and made his way back to where you were waiting for him.

"Here, I hope you like energy drinks?", he couldn't help but let some nervousness seep into his voice.

"Thank you, and I do", you answered him, and you visibly saw some tension leave his shoulders. "This is actually perfect. I'm so tired because I came right from work. Maybe this will wake me up a little", you said as you cracked the can open.

When he heard you say that, he wanted to pat himself on the back, but settled on giving you a contained smile instead.

"So", he sensed the lull in the conversation, and since he wasn't ready to stop talking to you yet, he decided to change the topic. "Who are you here with?"

"I'm friends with Charlie, she's Josh's fiancee", you answered him. He knew that Josh had gotten engaged in the last few months. Him and Nicholas knew Joah and Charlie from high school, and both of them were surprised it took Josh this long to ask the girl to marry him. Maybe if he was better at keeping contact with his friend, he could've met you way earlier.

"I saw you talking to her earlier", he pointed out and you cursed yourself, because your friends were right. He was watching you. "How did you two meet each other?", he asked and leaned against the table. He refrained from asking you to go inside and sit on the couch.

"We went to college together a few years ago. We were roomates and clicked instantly", you told him and he did the math in his head. You were friends with Charlie for what? Nine or ten years now? Shit, he really could've me you earlier. "What about you? Haven't seen you around before", you threw the question back at him, taking a sip from the drink in your hand. He had to avert his gaze from the way your lips wrapped around the rim, which was very distracting.

"Oh, I've known Josh for years. Us and a couple of other people here went to high school together", he saw your eyes light up with this information, visibly impressed.

"Oh my God. How come have I not seen you before?", you were shocked that you never noticed this man at any of the parties Josh and Charlie usually threw.

"I moved out of here really young. I live in LA now, so it's difficult to visit", he kept the information that he was in a band to himself. He liked the way you seem to not know who he is at all.

"I think he's mentioned having friends in LA before", you mused, but didn't dwell much on the information. "I don't blame you, LA seems to be much more interesting than here"

"Yeah, a little crazy out there. Not a dull moment, that's for sure", you agreed, and he wanted to know more about you, but refrained from asking what you did for a living, afraid that you would ask him back, and he sure didn't wanna lie to you.

"I never left here, I just assume from the stories I hear", he was surprised to hear this, not for the fact that you never visited other places, but because he couldn't imagine someone spending their whole lives in this place.

"You never felt the urge to go somewhere else?", he couldn't help but ask you. You thought for a second before answering him.

"I mean, I would obviously love to travel to other places, but I don't know if I would actually move somewhere else", he hummed, and you continued. "My whole life is here, my parents are here, and I know this city like the back of my hand. I guess I like the familiarity of the place"

He could understand that. Not everyone had a traumatizing childhood and teenage years like him. He guesses he could like the place if it wasn't tied to such bad memories.

He was about to ask you something else when Charlie approached the two of you, and he noticed the knowing look on her face the second he saw it.

"Hey, you two", she said as she rested one hand on your shoulder. "We're playing a board game in the living room, and Josh wanted me to ask if any of you would like to participate"

Noah waited for you to answer first, half hoping you would say no, just so he could talk to you for a little but longer. However, what you said instead crashed his hopes of talking to you for the rest of the party.

"I would love to, but I should be heading out. I'm dead tired and really need some sleep", you had an apologetic look on your face, and when he really took the time to look at you, he did notice your slightly droopy eyes.

"Thank you for coming, I know work has been chewing your ass lately", Charlie told you, but you dismissed her with a wave of your hand.

"You know I love hanging out with you guys, so it's worth the effort", you said with sincerity in your voice and you and Charlie exchanged a hug and goodbyes.

Turning back to face him, you noticed that you didn't really want to leave, but needed to before you got even more tired. Suddenly, you realized you never got his name.

"Well, we've been talking all this time and I never asked your name", you chuckled at the absurdity of it.

"My name is Noah", he extended his hand for you to shake. "What's yours?"

You took his hand in yours, noticing the way it entirely encompassed yours. You observed the details on the tattoos he had on his knuckles and hands, and you wondered once again if they continued up his arms and shoulders. "I'm Y/N"

"Well, Y/N, it's been a pleasure talking to you", he gave you soft smile and you wanted to get lost in his eyes and the way he was looking at you right now. As if you were the greatest thing that's happened to him the entire week. Little did you know.

"The feeling is mutual" you smiled back at him, having to let go of his hand, as to not turn this into those too long handshakes. "I should get going", you said and started to turn around before he stopped you.

"Actually", he started, prompting you to look back at him. "I was wondering if I could get your number", he had the same hopeful look on his face as earlier, when he asked you if he could grab you a drink. You looked at him for a few seconds before answering.

"Yeah, of course. Here it is", you handed him your phone and he put his contact in, giving it back to you.

"I'll text you so you can add mine", you tapped your screen a few times and after a couple of seconds, his phone vibrated on his back pocket. "There, now we have each other's numbers", you pocketed your phone.

"Text me when you get home?", he asked and you were caught a little off-guard, but couldn't deny you loved the way he genuinely seemed to care about you.

"Of course. I'll let you know", you smiled and contemplated giving him a hug, just to feel the way his arms would wrap around your body, but thought it would be too much for a first encounter. You settled in a little awkward wave as you turned around to make your way out of the backyard and in the direction of your car.

Noah, on the other hand, was frozen in place. When he spotted you, he was sure he was doomed to watch you from afar the whole night. But when he saw you by the table full of drinks, looking a little lost, he decided to take Nicholas' advice and mingle a little.

For someone who hated this city so much, he was actually feeling a little disappointed in having to leave in a few days. He always felt like there was nothing else worth sticking around for here, but as he replayed your smile in his head, and how your skin felt in his in those couple of seconds he shook your hand, he couldn't help but think he could stay here, if it meant he got to experince moments like this with you again.

He decided to make his way back inside, the party now with only a few people left. He sat on the couch as he watched Nicholas and his friends play a game of Monoply on the dinner table.

A few minutes went by when he felt his phone vibrate in back pocket. Fishing it out, he saw it was a text from you.

You: Hi! Just letting you know I got home safely :)

He felt a smile take over his face as he replied to you.

Noah: Hey! Glad everything went alright. Have a good night and sleep well x

You: Thank you :) Enjoy the rest of the party!

Noah: I'm about to leave soon actually. Talk to you tomorrow?

You: Sure! Drive home safe and let ME know when you get home? ;)

Noah: I will, but something tells me you'll be asleep by then

At home, you were leaning against the bathroom counter, your toothbrush hanging from your mouth, stupidly grinning at your phone.

You: I'll wait up :)

The next day was chores day for you. Clean the house, get the laundry done, change the sheets and whatever else you needed to do around the house.

Even with the music blaring through the speakers to keep you entertained while you loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, you couldn't help but let your mind run wild with thoughts of Noah.

You couldn't let go of the fact that he was so nice to you, despite never having seen you before. It's not that guys were never nice to you, it's just that the niceness came with the intentions fo something else, and you didn't want to think of Noah as one of those people.

Closing the dishwasher and starting the cycle, you made your way to the bedroom to collect all the clothes that needed washing.

As soon as you got in the room, you stopped in your tracks, your image on the mirror on the opposite wall from you catching your attention.

This was obviously a lazy day, and there was no use in dressing up to clean the house, but still, you could see the wisps of hair and the frizz sticking out from your bun, that sat atop of your head.

You wore a baggy t-shirt and some gym shorts, turning a bit to the side, you observed the fat of your thighs basically swallowing the tight fabric.

Nowadays, you weren't so worried with the way you look as you were as a teenager. A lot of therapy over the years helped you accept yourself. But you can't say it didn't leave any traumas behind.

Before you could even realize what was happening, the voices in your head were already sabotaging you.

"See? You were right. Noah is probably not attracted to you at all"

"He probably made a bet with someone about how he could charm the fat girl no one wants"

"He's tall, tattooed and handsome. You're just you"

It didn't matter anyway, he's doesn't even live here. His life in LA is probably more interesting than anything this city could offer him. He'll leave soon and your life would be back to normal. He'll probably not even text you, your phone number lost in all the other numbers he probably has in his phone.

Huffing with annoyance at how the day took a turn, you hurried to gather the clothes and make your way out of the room.

At the Ruffilo's house, Noah was laying on the couch, with his phone in his hand, open on your text thread with you from last night.

To be honest, he wanted to text you right when he woke up, but didn't want to come off to strong or bother you on your day off. Now, as it was nearing 3:00 pm, he was tired of holding himself back.

He's been contemplating on how he could ask you out for the entire day, and decided he should keep it simple. Maybe ask you out to eat some dinner. Nothing too fancy, just some burgers, fries and a milkshake at the place he loved to go with his friends as a teenager.

He even though about taking you to the lookout he always went to, to clear his head when the noises in his head got too loud. He hasn't been there in years, and now was a good time to try and resignify what the place meant to him.

So, he started typing.

Noah: Hey! Remember me?

He sent the text and stared at the screen, biting the nail on his thumb. He waited a couple of minutes for an answer, but the bubbles showing that you were typing a reply didn't appear on his screen.

You could be busy. Or you could already be out with someone else. It's the weekend after all, why would you spend it rotting away on the couch like him?

He knew if he stayed here, he would drive himself mad. So he decided to make his way uptairs to take a shower, and hopefully take his mind off of you for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, you were debating with yourself. After your dilemma earlier in the day, you weren't expecting to get a text from Noah. Actually, you were kind of hoping he wouldn't contact you, because you weren't ready to unpack what you were feeling for this guy you just met yesterday.

But here you are, mind running in circles thinking about what to say to him. Should you even reply? No, that's out of the question. You always thought it was rude to leave somone on read, especially on purpose.

You couldn't deny that you were curious to find out what he wanted. So, without dwelling much more on it, you started typing.

You: Hey there! Of course I do. Yesterday wasn't that long ago.

You wanted to lock your screen and chuck your phone across the room. But you weren't fifteen anymore, so you resorted to scrolling through social media as you waited for his responde. Eyes wandering to the notification bar every few seconds.

If this was just a booty call, you were going to be extremely upset. Would it be so bad though to have a one night stand with the hot guy?

Your phone vibrated in your hand, a text coming through.

Noah: Just wanted to make sure

What's up? You having a good weekend?

You: If good means cleaning the house the entire day, then I'm having a great weekend. What about you?

Noah: Well, now you're just making me feel bad, 'cause I didn't do anything the entire day

You: That sounds perfect, actually

Noah: Since your weekend has been so strenuous, what do you think about having some dinner?

Did he just ask you out? Were your eyes deceiving you? You didn't know what to tell him.

You obviously wanted to spend more time with him, enjoying the time you spent with him yesterday. But your mind took you back to earlier in the day. You hated yourself for always assuming the worst in a situation.

Maybe he didn't even mean anything by asking you to have dinner with him. Maybe he was just being polite. But why would he be polite to someone he just met?

Ultimately, you decided that this didn't have to mean anything more than just two people eating together. Besides, you were curious to find out what his intentions were. If he even had any.

You: Sounds good. What are you thinking?

Noah: Do you like burgers?

You: Oh, I love burgers!

Noah: It's set then! I know just the place

I'll pick you up at 7?

You: I'll be ready :)

Noah was sat on his bed, towel still wrapped around his hips, looking stupidly at his phone, a grin on his lips. He pondered a lot during his shower, and decided that he was done waiting. He didn't have much more time in his hometown, so he wanted to make the most of the time he still had with you.

He knew it was still too early to call this a first date, but he was nervous as if it was. He really hopes you like what he has planned for the two of you. It's nothing too fancy or too special, a simple dinner overlooking the city at night, but it held a lot of meaning for him.

Getting dressed and going downstairs to get some water, he knew he'd be stressing until it was time to leave to pick you up, so he decided to play some games on his computer to try and distract himself a little.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and overanalyzed your outfit like you've been doing for probably the past 10 minutes. You wore a dress that went down to about your knees, it was a deep wine color, and threw on a leather jacket on top, just in case it got windy outside.

You opted to go for comfort instead of anything fancy, so deciding that this outfit was enough, you went to your closet and grabbed your pair of Vans and slipped them on your feet.

Noah should be here in about 15 minutes, and you wanted to be ready. He texted you a little earlier asking for your address, you gave it to him and just told him to text you when he got here. Since you lived in an apartment, it would be easir for you to come down and meet him at the entrance.

You didn't have to wait long until you phone chimed in your hands, a text popping up on the screen.

Noah: I'm here :)

You: I'll be down in a second!

Locking the door behind you, you waited for the elevator. Your legs couldn't seem to keep still, and you realized you were nervous for whatever was about to happen when you met him outside.

Do you hug him? Do you shake his hand? No, that's too formal of a greeting. But would he want to hug you this soon? He seemed to be a reserved person.

You didn't have much more time to overthink on this situation, because soon you were stepping inside the elevator. You cursed yourself for living only on the third floor, because before you could freak out a bit more, the doors dinged and you stepped out.

When you laid eyes on him, he was standing outside his car, back leaning against the passenger side door, long legs crossed and hands tucked into his pants' pockets.

You almost stopped yourself in your tracks. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt, and you could see the tattoos decorating both of his arms. You almost wanted to just stand there and admire the way looked waiting for you.

But you couldn't allow yourself to look like a fool on the first time you were going out with him. So you put on a smile and walked over to him. You didn't have to overthink anything at all, because as soon as you got close to him, you heard him say a "hello" and stretch out his arms for you to give him a hug.

He felt warm and sturdy against you, and you noticed the way his arms circled your shoulders and around your neck. You could feel his muscles through the fabric of your dress, and it made you a little dizzy.

When you both parted from the hug, you said "hi" back him.

"C'mon in", he gestured to the car and opened the door for you. You situated yourself on the passenger seat and he shut the door behind you, making his to the other side.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?", you asked, as you buckled you seatbelt and watched him do the same.

"I know this place that sells some really good burgers. My friends and I used to go there all the time. I hope it's still good", he answered and started driving.

"Burgers are always nice", you pointed out.

"Not always", he quickly looked at you with his eyebrows raised.

"Are you particular about your burgers?"

"It's not that I'm pinky or anything. It's just that I knwo when a burger is bad", he explained himself while taking a right turn and entering another neighbourhood.

"And what is a bad burger in your opinion?", you turned yourself slightly on your seat, so you could look at him better.

"Well, first, the bun has to be sealed, so it isn't soggy from the sauce", you nodded along to his explanation. "Then, the burger has to be thick enough to be juicy, and it can't be cooked for too long because then it becomes dry", he makes a face as if dry burgers are a personal attack to him.

"I guess you're right about all of that. Maybe spending four years in college kind of messed up my idea of good food"

"You ate a lot of weird stuff?", he asked you.

"It's incredible the stuff you can come up with on a budget", you shrugged and he seemed to be satisfied with your answer.

Not too long after, Noah's pulling to a vintage looking diner, but you notice him going to the drive thru instead of parking.

"We're not eating here?", you found yourself asking before you could stop.

"Shit, I didn't ask you", he stopped the car in the line and looked at you. "I was thinking about eating at this place I know, I think you're gonna like it", you could tell his confidence wavered a little bit, but you gave him a smile anyways.

"It's ok, I don't mind eating somewhere else"

The line progressed quickly and in about fifteen minutes, you were grabbing your order and Noah was driving again.

You noticed he was driving to a less populated area, and more trees came into view, the headlights of the car illuminated the path ahead.

"I clearly didn't think this through because this totally looks like I'm kidnapping you or something", he chuckled a little, but you could tell he was nervous.

"I didn't think about that", you told him. Maybe you thought this place was a little weird, but you weren't going to comment on that.

"We're almost there, ok", you nodded and true to his words, a few turns later, the car arrived at a clearence. Noah drove a little bit more and parked the car.

Looking through the windshield, you could see the light from the city below you and the stars shining bright above you.

"You were right. I really do like this place", you stated, still a little bit in awe. How did you not know about this place?

"I'm really glad you like it", he said, watching you observe the place around you. "Well, let's eat before the food gets cold"

You ate and talked, now feeling more comfortable with each other's presence. Noah told you he used to come here as a teenager all the time, though he didn't tell you the reason.

He didn't feel the same emotions now as he did before when coming to this place. It felt like a new life now for him, e new beginning, and he was to have someone like you here with him.

You did tell him though, that this was one of the best burgers you've ever eating in your life, and that you would totally eat there more. He couldn't hide the smile on his face.

After you were done, he gathered all the wrappers and cups and got out of the car to put it in the trash can that was not too far away from the car.

You sat there, observing him and wondering if you were the only one feeling like this was more than just two people who just met each other going out to dinner.

He got back and sat down on the driver's seat. Looking out into the city, he said "I kind of don't wanna go yet"

"I don't either", you agreed. You felt a weird sense of calm on this place, with him. "I can tell that being here means a lot to you. And you don't have to tell me anything, but I'm glad you brought me here"

He didn't say anything for a while, and you both just sat there in comfortable silence.

"I never liked coming back here, to my hometown", he started, you just looked at him, not saying anything, not wanting to rush him. "I have really bad memories from this place. But don't know, being here this time, meeting you, made me feel like this city still has some good in it"

"Noah, I'm hardly anyone important", you reasoned.

"It's not that. I just feel like you're here because you wanna be, and not because you want to get something from me", he looked down at his lap.

"Why would I wanna get something from you?", you were feeling a little confused now.

"it's just always the way it works. Charlie never told you whar I do on LA?", he questioned you, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

"She told me you're in a band. Which I googled and you guys look pretty good at what you do", you noticed his eyes widening when you said this.

"So you know?", his voice was a little smaller right now, aprehensive.

"Of course. Josh would never shut up about his friends who went to LA and got famous", you laughed quietly at this. "I'm sorry that people made you feel worthy only if you have something to give them"

He looked down again, but you continued. "But I was serious when I told you that I'm not anyone important. I'm glad to be here right now, and I really enjoy your company, but you're going back to LA soon and then this is the last thing you'll think about"

"I don't think that's true", he was quick to disagree with you. "Before arriving here, I felt dread coming back to this place. Now I feel like I don't wanna leave. You're the reason for that, and I'll never forget the way you've made me feel this past two days. Because I haven't felt his normal in years", you didn't know what to say to that, so you just looked at him.

He straighted his back, and leaned his elbows on the center console, his face now closer to yours.

"Will you give me the pleasure of tasting your lips before I go absolutely insane?", he was looking right at your eyes, voice low as if there weren't the two of you here.

"We can't have you going insane, can we?", you said and leaned closer, brushing your lips on his.

You felt his hand going up your neck and gripping your jaw. He licked his lips and you closed your eyes, and soon you felt the plush of his lips on yours, slow at first, but then he got a little more urgent, picking up his pace.

His tongue teased your lips and you granted him entrance, you whimpered at the feeling of his mouth on yours, and he held your face tighter.

After parting, you were both panting, you with a smile in your face at the feeling of his thumb carresing your cheek.

"How am I supposed to ever leave this place now?", he wondered out loud and connected his lips yours again.

84 notes · View notes

whumpy-wyrms · 3 days ago

Text

The Last Lab Rat #21: Halloween

previous > masterlist > next

content: lab whump, captivity, ghosts, parent and animal death mention, comfort, ghost carewhumpee, winged test subject whumpee, scientist carewhumper

HAPPY (LATE) HALLOWEEN to Dew and Anton (and Max)!! watch them as they celebrate the spookiest holiday as a way to cope with their own horrors that are slowly consuming them (also ignore the fact i’m posting this one day after halloween… every day is halloween if you’re a creature of the night like me for realsies)

—

For a moment Dew thought that it was all one bad dream, but like everything else that had happened to him, he knew it’d never be that easy. This wasn’t a dream, he wasn’t hallucinating, and this wasn’t another experiment— if so, Anton would have burst into the room giddy with excitement about the idea of ghosts existing a long time ago— so it had to be real; that was the only explanation. Dew could see ghosts. Dew could communicate with the dead.

He supposed it was a good idea to keep this a secret from Anton. From what all of this implied, Anton didn’t deserve to know that Max was still here, lest he torment them further than what he did back when they were his lab rat. They deserved a peaceful afterlife, and Dew would… try as best he could to give them that. He didn’t need Anton ruining yet another person’s life— or lack thereof.

Max seemed happy with that decision as well. Whenever Dew brought Anton up, they shuffled awkwardly and mumbled short and vague responses. It was obvious they preferred not to talk about him. The idea of confronting him after all this time seemed like it filled them with absolute dread. Dew didn’t need to know all the specific details to understand why.

Eventually, the two of them realized they had stayed up all night talking, and Dew had gotten absolutely zero sleep. He was sitting on his bed talking to Max when the lights flicked on, and Anton came strolling through the lab. Dew’s heart jumped in his chest, and he frantically pulled the blankets over them both.

He could see Max. He could talk to a ghost, a ghost! How the hell was he supposed to keep this a secret from Anton? His drowsy head swarmed with adrenaline and worry, he could barely think straight after everything that was going on, it’d surely cause suspicion.

…Shit.

Dew hopped out of bed and picked up the knife off the floor.

“Max,” Dew whispered frantically. “W- what do I do with the knife— where do I put it?—”

“Put it back in your pillow case,” Max said. “Hurry. Anton’s coming.”

Dew stuffed the knife in there and ran to the bathroom, usering Max alone with him. He slammed the door shut and watched Max float seamlessly through the walls and into the bathroom.

“Oh my god… oh my god!” Dew exclaimed, running his hands through his disheveled hair. “Anton’s coming. Anton’s gonna- gonna find out about you and—”

“No, He won’t,” Max reassured him. “He hasn’t seen me for the past five years I’ve been here… no matter how much I’ve tried. He won’t suddenly be able to see me now… It’s okay, I promise.”

“Okay… okay.”

“Please calm down, Dew. You’ll only arouse suspicion…”

“You’re right- you’re right. Oh my god. What do I do? Do I tell Anton I can see you? What if he- what if he messes with my eyes more or kills me again or— or hurts you—”

“You don’t gotta tell him,” Max quickly reassured. “It’s- it’s probably best if you don’t, actually. It’s okay. Please… take a deep breath. Everything’ll be alright.”

“O-okay… I won’t tell him. Oh god. I can see dead people. Are you sure you’re real?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. Okay I should— I need to use the toilet. Do you mind…”

Max quietly nodded and floated out of the room, and Dew was left alone. A few moments later, he heard Anton enter his room from the other side of the door. Silence. He was just… waiting. Like usual. Of course. Everything was normal for him out there. For all the scientist knew, today was just another day.

When Dew was done, he walked back into his room, all three of his eyes moving to see Anton sitting on the side of his bed. They locked eyes. Dew felt like a deer in the headlights.

“Good morning, Dew,” the scientist said. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um,” Dew mumbled, quickly glancing up to the dark corner of the ceiling. Max was staring back, eye wide and still. Dew timidly shifted his gaze back to the scientist. “Good.”

“That’s good.” Anton breathed. He didn’t seem to notice Dew’s glance. He was staring at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Dew fidgeted with his shirt and tried to ignore the elephant in his room. With everything that happened, he’d almost forgotten about the scientist and his experiments. Being in his presence after last night made him filled with absolute dread. Memories flashed through his mind of being forced into that tank— the darkness, being unable to see, to move, to feel. He had died. Anton had killed him.

He was suddenly hyper aware of everything that was going on, the position he was in, where he was, the fact he didn’t know what was going to happen next. Tears welled up in his eyes far too suddenly, and he hadn’t realized that he’d pressed his back so far against the wall opposite the scientist that his wings were beginning to ache.

“I’m sorry, Dew,” Anton said quickly, breaking the silence and letting out a shaky breath. “About yesterday. I never- I never intended for that experiment to go the way it did. If you don’t mind, I wanna do a couple of tests quickly, just to see how you’re holding up. Then we can eat breakfast out in the kitchen together, okay?”

Dew wiped his eyes and nose with his sleeve and sniffled. His head jerked into a nod. “Oh, o-okay.” His tense shoulders started to relax, and he swallowed his nerves and followed Anton out of the door. He hadn’t been told to put his hospital gown on; that was a good thing. It meant no experiments. He closed his eyes as he walked and tried to focus on calming his breathing. Anton wouldn’t hurt him right now. No experiments. Everything would be okay.

As he walked, he realized the presence of the ghost grew farther away. Dew’s eyes flickered to the window and saw Max watching him silently from his room. They were staying put… Maybe that was for the best. It was already hard for Dew to focus with both the ghost and the scientist in the same room as him.

“You’ve been so good, Dew,” Anton said as they walked. Dew turned his head to look up at him. “So good. I don’t say that enough.”

“Oh, th-thanks…”

Now in the lab again, Dew was glad to note that the horrible giant tank and any evidence left from that experiment was gone. The fact that he may never go inside there again provided a small comfort as he hopped up on the metal table. The scientist prepped a small needle, and Dew had done this so much that he knew what to expect by now. He moved his arm from his sleeve and rested his elbow on the table, allowing Anton room to slide the needle in and start drawing blood.

Dew would usually look away, terrified with tears in his eyes as he clenched them shut, but this time he looked down in a morbid curiosity. But he felt nothing as his eyes bored into it, watching his dark red blood be taken from his body and filled in a couple of small vials.

He blinked, and it was over with. Anton wrapped his arm in a bit of cotton gauze and gave him a few light pats to his head. Dew put his arm back in his sleeve and stayed as still as he could as Anton continued to check his vitals. Cold stethoscope to his skin, blood pressure cuff squeezing his arm, bright lights in his eyes. His mind swarmed with so many questions and worries about the day prior that he could barely focus on what the scientist was even doing to him.

After he was done, Anton put a hand on Dew’s shoulder. Dew flinched and looked up at him. “That’s it, I’m done. I’m proud of you. As a reward for your good behavior, you deserve another break for a little while, don’t you think?”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Anton ruffled his hair. “We both do… And I need time to plan for what’s next.”

Dew let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He closed his eyes and slinked off of the table and onto the floor.

Anton lightly scrunched his brows. “You look tired. Did you get any sleep last night?”

“...No. I… I couldn’t sleep,” Dew mumbled. There was no use lying about it. It was obvious.

“Oh.” Anton patted his hair softly. He frowned, looking almost guilty. Dew hugged his knees to his chest. “I’m sorry about that… Good thing we get to rest today. Recover from… what happened.”

“…Anyways, everything’s looking good. You’re all healthy.” He gave Dew a gentle smile. “We have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s good,” Dew mumbled.

“…But Dew,” Anton said, smiling wide. It seemed like his usual, giddy self was already back. That had to be a new record. “There’s another reason we get a break today. Do you know what day it is?”

“No.”

“It’s…” Anton took two pens and drum rolled them on the table. “…Halloween!” He quickly put some giant fake mouse ears on his head. “I would have told you sooner, but uh, I kinda lost track of time. You get it.”

“It’s… Halloween already?” It felt like only yesterday it was his birthday at the beginning of October. It felt like only yesterday he escaped and murdered and got recaptured and gave up. It was only yesterday he died. Time continued to sneak by. It always did, and it always would.

“Awful timing, I know.” Anton scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “But… Let’s try not to let anything else ruin the spooky spirit for us today, alright? It’s a new day, everyone’s okay, let’s just… focus on having fun.”

So it really did seem like Anton wanted to move on from last night completely and sweep all the horrors that Dew faced under the rug. Dew didn’t know if he could just move on from what happened so easily. The void had swallowed him up, it was so dark, so…

“Dew?” Anton asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“S-sorry.” Maybe it was a good thing he had a distraction, actually. He’d focus on the spooky horrors today instead of his own. Surely pushing all his worries to the back of his mind wouldn’t have any repercussions later.

“Like I said, I didn’t really get to plan much for today… time got the best of me. But I have a few fun options.” Anton changed the lighting in the lab to a dim orange hue, really setting the mood for Halloween. Dew didn’t even know Anton could change the colors of the lights in this place.

“If you want, we could decorate or carve some pumpkins for fun.” Anton laughed softly. “I don’t think it’ll surprise you to know we don’t get any trick-or-treaters here. And if we did, well, the more test subjects, the merrier! Haha.”

Dew didn’t laugh.

“But that’s okay. It means we get the candy all to ourselves! Here, you deserve the treat.” Anton handed him an orange jack-o-lantern bucket filled to the brim with candy.

“…Th-thanks.”

“Don’t eat it all at once. Oh! Right, you’re probably hungry. Come on, let's go get some breakfast.” Anton held his hand out towards Dew. He sighed and grabbed it, allowing Anton to pull him to his feet. He followed him to the kitchen. “Hmm, what do you want for breakfast, Dew? I also haven't eaten yet this morning. I just, uh, woke up and came straight here.” Anton looked down at his lime green socks and chuckled lightly. “I didn’t even remember to put my shoes on.”

“Hmm.” Dew didn’t really know. It had been months since someone asked what he wanted for breakfast. “I mean… I really like pancakes. Especially if-if they have chocolate chips in them.”

Anton hummed. “Oh, that sounds good! Yeah, I’ll make ‘em, you just sit tight.” Anton pulled a chair out for Dew and he sat down at the table.

It was so weird seeing the scientist in such a cheery mood after last night, after that experiment went wrong, after he allegedly killed him. Maybe it was just his way of coping, his way of trying to cheer Dew up. He knew how… important he was to the man. But still, if Anton didn’t want him to get hurt, he shouldn’t have fucking experimented on him.

Dew closed his eyes while he waited, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his wings around himself on the chair. He was so exhausted. Eventually, Anton finished baking the pancakes and set a plate down in front of him. There were two medium pancakes and a bigger curved one, arranged in the shape of a smiley face.

They ate their breakfast in silence. Well… at first. “This is so good, Dew!” Anton exclaimed. “Pancakes was a good idea!”

The pancakes themself weren’t… the best, but they were better than nothing. Dew and his friends used to make much better pancakes together back at home. He wondered if they still did that. With the clone.

After they were done eating breakfast, Anton took their plates and set them in the sink. “Well, we’re already in the kitchen, do you wanna carve some pumpkins?” he asked.

“…Sure.”

“Alright.” Anton bent down and hefted two pumpkins up on the table. One was rather small, and the other was a bit bigger. “Choose your pick. I don’t mind.” It was obvious Anton was hoping he’d get to carve the bigger one, so Dew took the small one. “Good choice!”

Anton handed Dew a pencil and some rubber gloves, then he handed him a knife.

…A knife.

Dew stared at it.

Anton only just seemed to notice what he handed him so casually a second ago. “Oh, just be careful with that, Dew.” Anton frowned. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“…I’ll be careful,” Dew said. It was hard to believe Anton was just trusting him with a knife like this, unrestrained, and so close to him too, especially after…

He shook those thoughts away. He was glad he was being trusted with this after everything that had happened. He could use all the trust he could get here, and he wouldn’t break it. …At least, not now.

Oh, right.

He didn’t know what to do. All these thoughts about trust and he just remembered that he’d been lying to the scientist for weeks about his eyes. He should tell him, he should. He couldn’t break his trust all over again and risk getting hurt. It wasn’t worth it.

After snapping his own gloves on, Anton started digging in. “You can turn your music on too, if you’d like. I don’t listen to music much. but if you like it so much, it might be nice…”

Dew pressed play on his MP3 player that has been sitting in his pocket, letting it play out loud. Whatever Dew decided to do about all the secrets he’d been keeping, it could surely wait a little longer. It was Halloween. He decided to focus on the pumpkin carving and the music playing, letting it drown out his thoughts.

Dew put his gloves on and started carving. It was easy at first, all he had to do was cut the stem out. But… he didn’t exactly know what he wanted to carve. He used to carve pumpkins all the time during spooky season with his friends, but now… he sighed. He didn’t feel like designing something new and intricate. A generic scary jack o'lantern face would have to.

“So, Dew, do you like Halloween?” Anton asked.

“Um… yeah,” Dew mumbled. “Yeah. It’s fun.”

Anton smiled. “What do you like about it?”

Dew shrugged. “I used to go trick-or-treating a lot with my friends. We’d always dress up in costumes. One time Sawyer and I went as two of our favorite video game characters. It was… really fun.” Dew softly stabbed the side of the pumpkin and took his hand away, putting it in his lap and letting the knife sit sticking out of the pumpkin. “I miss it. Obviously.” He wasn’t going to ask if Anton could take him trick-or-treating. It’d be an obvious no. He didn’t want to get his hopes up just to be let down.

“What about you?” Dew asked, looking up. “Do you like Halloween?”

“Oh yeah, I love Halloween.” Anton smiled fondly. “It’s one of the only holidays Pierce let me celebrate. I used to dress up sometimes. I never went, uh, trick-or-treating though.” Anton frowned. “It sounds fun. I wish… I wish I did. Pierce and I never really left the forest much…”

Dew blinked.

“And uh, if I would’ve remembered it was Halloween sooner, I definitely would’ve prepared costumes. But hey, there’s always next year!”

…Yeah. Next year.

And the year after that.

And the years after that.

Hey, maybe by then, Anton would trust Dew enough to take him trick-or-treating again. Then they’d both be happy. Maybe he’d even see his friends walking on the street by them with his clone. He wondered what he’d be dressed up as. He plucked the knife out of the pumpkin and continued carving into it.

Orange, wet, slimy pumpkin guts covered his gloved hands as he gutted his pumpkin. His knife shone bright in the orange light, illuminating the stabs into its face as he carved it out. He felt like he was gonna be sick.

“Hey, Dew?” Anton said out of nowhere. Dew looked up from his pumpkin. “I just wanted to say… I’m… I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured softly. “I love spending time with you.”

Around an hour later, the two of them finished up their pumpkins. Anton put little candles inside and lit them, then dimmed the lights all the way. The two jack o'lanterns lit up, warm orange light filling the darkness. Anton had carved a little… rat? Mouse? Whatever it was, it was kinda cute. Dew just carved a scary face. It’s jagged, zig zag mouth curving up into a smile, contrasting Dew’s obvious tired, sad, and perpetually fearful frown.

Despite that, Anton still seemed proud of him. He put a hand on his shoulder and grinned. “Woah! These look amazing!” Anton said. “Good job, Dew. You did great.”

Dew smiled lightly at the praise. “Th-thanks. Now what?” he asked.

“I’ll clean this mess up and then… we could… watch a movie? We can watch something scary on the big computer monitor screens I have in here, if you want.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go get my sketchbook.”

Dew walked to his room, noticing Max was still floating by the window. He opened the door and walked in, looking out to make sure Anton wasn’t watching him. He seemed busy enough getting rid of the pumpkin guts.

“Hi,” Dew whispered.

“Hey,” Max said. “…What were you two doing over there?”

“What, carving pumpkins? You… you don’t know what that is?”

“Maybe I did, but I don’t remember anymore.”

“Oh… Well, it’s for Halloween. Something you do during Halloween time, you know, because it’s spooky.”

“…Halloween?”

“…Oh boy.”

As Dew talked about Halloween, recognition slowly started to spread across Max’s face. They felt it too. That familiarity. That… intense feeling they couldn’t seem to describe. Like… like when they first heard music from Dew’s machine. Halloween must have been important to them in the past… far into the past. Maybe even before the lab.

“Huh,” Dew said. “Do you know… If there’s any ways to like, jog your memories? Make them come back?”

Max shrugged. “I’m not sure. Sometimes if I focus really hard, I can remember a little. But… before— before here— it’s… nothing. Maybe a small feeling in the back of my mind, but that’s it.”

“…Oh.”

“Don’t feel bad, Dew.” Max assured. “I’m used to it by now. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t, and Dew knew that. None of this was okay. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Can you come with me? I’m scared to be alone. And I don’t want you to feel left out.”

Max’s eye lit up. “Okay. …Anton still doesn’t know I’m here, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay… good.”

Dew grabbed his sketchbook— and his ghost nightlight, it was in theme after all— and went back into the lab with Max following behind him. Anton had cleaned up the mess and was snacking on some candy when Dew approached him. He stood there silently, not really used to being the one to initiate their interactions. He was so used to being told what to do that he froze up the second Anton let him loose.

“Oh, hey,” the scientist said. “The remains of the insides of the pumpkins have been disposed of. Spooky movie time! I can make some popcorn if you want.”

Dew nodded.

“Alright! Let’s go make popcorn.” Anton started walking towards the exit of the lab, then hesitated. He turned to Dew. “…You can come with, if you want.”

Dew was surprised, but followed him anyway. Anton was taking him upstairs. He hadn’t gone up there since… He shuddered. He couldn’t mess this up. If he even just made the wrong move, or looked too longingly at the windows or something, he could ruin everything again. He gestured for Max to come with him. They’d help stop him from making stupid decisions.

But when he walked out the exit and they floated next to him and raised their hand to touch his, it stopped in mid air. Rigid. Unmoving. They tried moving their body forward, but it was like an invisible force was keeping them in the confines of the lab. Dew could barely process what that meant before Anton called for him.

“Dew? Come on.”

He forced himself to look away from Max and silently began walking up the stairs after Anton. His heart pounded in his chest when he realized what that meant. Max couldn’t leave the lab. He… guessed it made sense. After all, if he were a ghost in this place, the first thing he’d do if he got the chance was to leave and never look back. But that wasn’t an option for Max, was it?

Once they got to the top of the stairs, Anton opened the door and the two of them walked into the cabin. A chill went down Dew’s spine as he caught sight of the windows. Outside Dew saw a flurry of snow falling from the sky. White snowflakes danced in the air of the forest, the trees had lost most of their leaves at this point. It was already almost winter.

Anton glanced at Dew and then out the window. “Oh yeah, it started snowing recently. Come on, let’s pop some popcorn.”

Anton pulled Dew along to the kitchen and began rummaging around in the pantry. Sounds of popcorn popping in the microwave filled his ears, and he could already smell it.

“Okay Dewey,” Anton said, pouring the popcorn in a big bowl and pouring butter over the top. “It’s all done. Let’s go.”

They walked back to the lab and got the movie ready. Anton moved the couch from the kitchen to the middle of the room in front of his giant computer screens, and they sat down, cozied in their warm blankets. The movie Anton chose was Frankenstein.

They stayed silent for most of the movie. Max had come to sit next to Dew to watch it too, but quickly went flying back to hide in his room after it became too distressing for them. Dew was honestly dozing off for some of it, having got little to no sleep last night, but it was still entertaining. Better than being experimented on for real, at least. Anton just seemed happy to be spending time with him. After the movie, they ate lunch.

“What to do…” Anton said, pacing around in circles. “Oh, let’s tell some ghost stories!”

“O-oh, okay—” Dew’s words were cut off when a blanket was thrown in his face and he was pulled by his ankle off of the couch. “Hey!” He yelled, genuinely frightened. He pushed the blanket off of him and shot Anton a look. “What the f—”

“Relax, Dew.” Anton laughed. “I’m just making a blanket fort. We need one if we’re gonna tell spooky stories. This is gonna be fun.”

“Okay, fine.” Dew sighed. Anton started draping the blankets over the couch and connecting them to the chairs and shelves around them. Eventually, there was a small but decently cozy blanket fort that Dew and Anton were huddled under. Dew looked to his right to see Max phasing through the blankets and sitting down next to him.

“You start,” Anton said, smiling eagerly.

“Oh, um…” Dew glanced at Max. He really didn’t have any actual ghost stories to tell, besides the one from last night, but that one was obviously off the table. He didn’t really feel like making up something on the spot either. He sighed. Best to just get this over with. He was so tired.

“Well… me and my friends always liked to play with ouija boards,” Dew said. “We’d go out into the woods at night and sit in the grass with the board in the middle of us. We did it a couple of times and mostly goofed around, but it was kinda scary. And then…” Dew frowned. “Then my parents died, and… and we tried to use the board to talk to them. I dunno if it ever actually worked, or if my friends were just tryna make me feel better…”

Dew looked back up at Anton. “That’s my ghost story.”

Anton blinked. There was an awkward silence before he cleared his throat and chuckled awkwardly. “That wasn’t a very scary story, Dew. …But I’m… sorry for your loss. That must’ve been hard.”

“Yeah,” Dew mumbled. “Your turn.”

“Okay.” Anton grabbed Dew’s ghost light and held it under his chin all spookily. He began telling a cliche— but somewhat scary coming from Anton— ghost story. Being in the dark and hearing a story like that honestly sent chills down Dew’s spine, but he didn’t know if it was because he was scared or if it was the ghost that was sitting next to him. …Besides, he was always scared.

After the story, Dew decided to ask something he’d only really get the chance to ask today. “Hey, so… do you…” Dew glanced at Max again, who was curled up into a ball next to him. “Do you actually believe in ghosts?”

Anton paused for a moment, seemingly thinking deeply about it as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious— him being a scientist and all. He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “Hm. I’m not sure. If they do, that seems like an awfully painful existence to have. I wouldn’t want anyone to exist like that.” Anton cleared his throat. “But scientifically speaking: no, they don’t exist. So there’s no reason to think about them. It’ll just… bring you down. People die, y’know, what happens after is… irrelevant.”

Dew looked to his right again to see that Max was gone. Probably huddled up in his room.

Anton tilted his head, looking at him with a sad expression. “Hey Dew, are you okay? You’ve been on edge all day.”

“Oh, um…” Dew began nervously fidgeting with his Halloween candy. “I’m just- I’m scared of what’s gonna happen next.”

“Next?”

“L-like, the experiments. What are you gonna do to me next?” It was the question that had been ringing in his head all day, and he finally had the courage to ask it.

“Oh.” Anton frowned, suddenly looking much more serious, his expression almost resembling the one of horror from last night. He swallowed, guilt finding its way across his features. “Right. Of course you’d be wondering this. I should have explained more earlier.”

He sighed. “Well, we’re moving on from the eye experiments. That last experiment was a close call— too close for comfort, and we were getting nowhere anyway. I gave you a third eye and that was a success, but the rest… I wasn’t prepared. I went in too strong without thinking. We will come back to this eventually— maybe— probably not. There’s still so much I want to test, but for now we need to move on while I plan better ways— safer ways— to get done what I want.”

Dew wondered what really was it that Anton wanted to achieve. All of his questions led him nowhere, almost as if the scientist didn’t want to admit what he was searching for. But it was obvious in the way Anton was slouched down and wasn’t making the constant eye contact and talking about experiments without that excited glint in his eyes that he saw this as a failure. A failed experiment that gave Dew more powers than he could imagine. If only Anton knew.

Still, Dew was relieved that Anton seemingly wanted to move on from that particular experiment. It failed, and that was that, no second attempts, no re-do’s. Thank goodness for that. That was all Dew really cared about at this point. Surviving.

He didn’t have much to say, and it was obvious the scientist didn’t want to talk about this either, so he said nothing besides nodding in understanding.

Anton clicked his pen repeatedly, obviously wanting to change the subject. “Do you wanna watch another scary movie?”

“Sure.”

“Great.”

The blanket fort was swiftly torn down, the popcorn bucket was refilled and the two of them were once again sitting on the couch watching a spooky movie. Re-animator, this time. Anton seemed enraptured, Dew found it kind of interesting, and Max was nowhere to be seen.

Dew knew it couldn’t have been very late, but he was getting so tired. The complete lack of sleep last night was finally catching up with him, drowning out his thoughts and making him drift slowly into unconsciousness.

As Dew relaxed deeper into the couch, he felt Anton’s hand trail behind him before settling comfortably on his head, softly petting his fluffy hair. Dew melted into it, hugged his blanket closer, and started dozing off to the side.

Anton closed his eyes, clinging to him, petting his hair, cherishing this moment. It was just him and Dew. Safe and sound. He’d never let another bad thing happen to him again.

. . .

“Hey, Dewey?” Anton asked softly, stirring Dew awake.

“Huh?” Dew tiredly lifted his hands up to rub his eyes, all three of them landing on Anton once he came into focus in the dark. He was laying on the couch, head in Anton’s lap, the scientist’s hand softly petting his hair. He must have fallen asleep.

“The movie’s over. Let’s go back to your room.”

“M’kay.”

Dew allowed Anton to carry him to his room as he drifted between consciousnesses. Anton laid him down in bed and turned on his night light. “Goodnight, Dewey. Sleep tight.”

“G’night…” Dew murmured.

Anton lingered in the doorway for a few moments before shutting it and leaving the lab. Dew was comfortable melting into his sheets and drifting off to sweet, peaceful sleep until he heard someone trying to get his attention.

“Hey, Dew,” Max whispered. “Wake up.”

“Hmm?” Dew mumbled, sitting up with hair in his face and looking around the dark room, eyes adjusting just enough to see Max’s silhouette in front of him.

“Basil’s here. They wanted to say hi.”

“Oh,” Dew breathed. His eyes went wide. “Basil.” He’d almost forgotten about Anton’s old pet— the mouse. He never did get a chance to meet them.

“I don’t see them often. They’re not like me, they’re not trapped here. They spend their time in Anton’s room, they don’t like being in the lab, but… they’re my best friend too, and they wanted to meet you.”

Max held their hands open to reveal a small white mouse with dark spots curled up in their palms. Dew rubbed his eyes and smiled. They were so small, so cute, and yet they just looked like a trick of the light.

“Hi!” Basil squeaked.

She floated to Dew’s hands and curled up in a ball. Dew still couldn’t actually feel them, but it was a comforting sight nonetheless. Tears welled up in his eyes and he hugged her close, remembering the events of that day— that horrible day. Anton was the most distraught he’d ever seen him. His best friend had died, and now they were curled up in Dew’s hands, happy and peaceful as can be. Dew could tell this ghost was nothing like Max. This ghost was safe, their afterlife held no suffering, only peace. It seemed like the only reason they decided to stay in this mortal plane was so they could be with Max and Anton… and Dew, now.

He collapsed into his bed and cried, hugging himself tightly. Wet sobs racked his body as he clung to the sheets, grasping out for any comfort from the ghosts. He grieved for both of them. He realized he would have ended up like them if he’d gone through with it. He didn’t wanna think about what Anton would have done. He was so glad to be alive.

“We’re here, it’s okay,” Max whispered. They laid down on his bed next to him, holding Basil close, and started humming his favorite song. Dew wished he could feel their warmth, but the closer they got to him, the colder he felt. He wished he could just give them a hug. He wished someone would just give him a hug.

But as he lay there with both Max and Basil, the two of them trying their best to comfort him in the only ways they could, he held on tighter, and realized that them being together was all that mattered. He closed his eyes and fell asleep with his new friends, glad he wasn’t alone anymore.

—

i’ve never actually seen frankenstein or reanimator btw but i thought those movies seemed fitting (and i don’t think anton would really be a fan of slasher type horror movies anyways). anyway i hoped yall liked it :3 (i'm honestly not too proud of it but whateverrrr) next chapter is one i’m SUPER DUPER EXCITED ABOUT!!! expect it VERY SOON because i’ve already written most of it!!!! YIPPEE

taglist:

@whumpinthepot @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole @sorry-i-spaced

@catnykit @tettlod @delicateprincepaper @rejectedbytheempty @mijajaj

@anothertawogsideblog @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox @parasitebunny @bottlecapreader

@thecareandkeepingofwhumpees @inkwell-and-dagger @vidawhump @thepotatoofnopes @labwhump

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumping-valentine @whumpsoda @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @lumpofsand

@cepheusgalaxy @lumpywhump @otter-chaos-violence @paperprinxe @kawaii-cakes

@auradastler @whumperannon93 @befuddlednettle @eventide-paradox @bacillusinfection

@whump-till-ya-jump

let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist!

41 notes · View notes

soodoonimin · 8 hours ago

Text

Logan Howlett and animal instincts (or in other words my long winded analysis of a comic book character)

So before I start, just know that I have read a lot of comics but I don't know everything. I can take notes all day long but I have a bad memory and comics are confusing so please be nice and enjoy, this took a lot of effort to put together, it’s mostly my thoughts on the character as I read the the comic books. The movie character is a lot different and I will also probably do something like this for movie Logan as well (though it will be significantly shorter).

Also there are some pictures that have blood and body horror so beware.

What does it mean to be human? Well that's a question we as humans have been trying to answer since we could think to ask it and ever since then we've never been able to give a fully conclusive answer. Why? you may ask, well because think about it like this, the traits we most often associate with humanity (higher thinking, creativity, empathy, and love) may not and some times do not always exists solely within us when applied to fiction, we write whole stories about how robots can be human too, how aliens can be human etc etc as long as they have these traits (more or less) AND LOOK I'm not going to get into a whole philosophical discussion about the nature of humanity on Tumblr.com but I do want to take a second to talk about how those traits are applied to Logan and how he has to fight to prove his humanity.

So mutants are an oppressed people but being a mutant isn't always the same for everyone. You can be a mutant like Rouge who can kill people with a single touch or mutant like Storm who can bend the weather to your will (the most obvious example). You can be a mutant like Jean with no obvious physical signs of your mutation or you can be a mutant like Kurt, where 9/10 people think you’re a demon of some kind.

But what happens when you're a mutant like Logan Howlett? I mean you look human enough, sure you're a little more hairy than most people, you have fangs, you smell, and oh yeah the claws but those are retractable so overall....you're just a normal person right? Nothing you can’t hide, right? Yeah, for the most part, yeah. But there are a couple of other things about you that someone might not know from looking at you, you have an extraordinary healing factor, you have almost animal like senses and when you are pushed to your absolute brink you go into a monstrous like a rage and kill everything in sight.

For every gift Logan was born with theres a very real curse attached to each one.

Healing Factor: Logan still feels pain, the healing factor isn’t just limited to his body but it also messes with his memories, and more importantly he’s lived a very long life. In The End comic and Old Man Logan comic etc, when he’s out lived most of the world, he’s miserable.

Keen senses: Seems great, until they’re exploited, imagine what being able to smell and see and hear that well all the time without relief must be like. Imagine not being able to tell when someone is going to die? Or when they’re lying or when they haven’t showered etc. sure you might get used to it like you might get used to pain but that doesn’t make it pleasant.

Claws: Need to really touch on this one? Aside from the obvious please remember that Logan’s claws aren’t in his knuckles but in his fucking forearms so when using them he needs to make an effort to direct them or….

Berserker rage: great to get you out of a pinch but you can’t control it. (We’ll talk more about this later)

Most people don’t see these very real downsides of Logan’s mutation, they just see a small, angry guy, who’s good at fighting and can take a hit better than almost anyone.

Here’s what worse, a lot of people (X-men included) don't see, they don't all the ways Logan hates himself (and those who do don’t see the depths of that hate he has for himself). They don't see the scared little boy whose father was killed in front of him. They don't see that little boy who killed his father's murderer and was abandoned by all but one person for one person (Rose). They don't see the young man who accidentally killed his first love while trying to protect her from his brother. They don't see the man who lived a relatively miserable life being plucked up by a group of people who only saw him as something to be experimented on. They don’t see the man who believes that if he loves someone he's destine to hurt them in one way or another because he has multiple times over (even if it wasn’t always his fault). They don’t see that for all the times that they call Logan an animal, he already believes them and he’s called himself worse many times over.

(Deep down he truly believes he deserves be to alone, especially in death. That would be his “deserved” hell. Eternal loneliness.)

Which is funny because I think Logan goes back and forth in deciding on whether or not he has any humanity in him in the first place. See in the Black, White and Blood comic, the FIRST story told in this series, is an account of Logan’s time at Weapon X and we get this…interaction:

Pourquoi tu me fais ça?///Why are you doing this to me? This "monster" asks him this on the cusp of death....

(Moments during the Weapon X program, be they real memories or not, when Logan’s humanity shone through)

And THIS almost immediately snaps him out of mind control he's under going. I don't know if he understood the words per say but I think even if he didn't, he still understood the plea on a human level. Because it wasn’t Weapon X who responded, it wasn’t the berserker, or Wolverine. It was Logan Howlett. It was a moment of humanity that broke the conditioning he’d been put through that answered that plea and stopped him. Because if you think about it, if these two memories actually are real, that means that Logan recognized this plea as the same one gave to the scientists. Now determining what did or didn't happen during the Weapon X program is difficult to parse out because they implanted false memories. BUT regardless of that there was always a part of him that held onto his humanity. But I think that just adds to the horror of it all. Imagine not being able to know what memories are yours and which ones are not? So let me ask, even if those memories are “false” does that make them any less real? Does that mean that Logan suffered any less under their stewardship? He was still kidnapped, he was still experimented on, still tortured. He still had the adimantium grafted onto his bones, he was still made into a living puppet and was still seen as nothing more than a weapon, an animal, a monster by the very people who were doing all of this to him and in some respects they are the reason he is seen as a monster by others.

At the end of that comic (where he was momentarily snapped out of his conditioning) he states that no his humanity wasn’t stolen from him but he still lives with that guilt of everything he can’t remember and the things he can remember are unreliable.

I know a lot of people haven’t read the comics so I’m not trying to do annoying about it BUT if you get the opportunity to PLEASE go read The Weapon X comic (by Berry Windsor-Smith) & Wolverine’s first limited series run (by Chris Claremont).

I specifically say that second one because I think the story that’s told is probably one of the more interesting told for Logan because of the relationship he has with Yukio and Mariko. I’m not going to get too deep into it because I really think you should read it for yourself but the basic outline of it is that where Mariko loves the man, Yukio loves the “monster”. And when he’s initially trying to court Mariko it’s his attempts to in a sense to court humanity but he fails and when he turns to Yukio. And for her part it’s not just as simple as her loving the “monster” but more than she goads it out of him, for thematic reasons and plot reasons. But needless to say, they both love Logan but they both love an incomplete version of him. (It’s a really good story and it’s literally what sold me on the idea of reading through any of the older comics.)

Anyway, (in the comics and movies especially) some people solely see him as a man with an uncontrollable side that they’d run from at the first sign of aggression and others only want that animalistic side and don’t love the man that Logan is. The thing is, he is both of those things. Think about it like this. As humans we like to think ourselves above the food chain, we like to think of ourselves as *more* than animals. And sure we’re definitely one of the most successful species of animals on Earth and we definitely don’t act on instincts in the same way most animals do, we’ve created society and rules and we do things a lot different than other animals but we are still animals.

So Logan isn’t both a man and an animal anymore than you or me. But he is a man that is more in touch with those animal instincts than the rest of us (bc of his mutation). Which I think is why when he does act on those instincts, people see him as less, because we (yes even comic book characters for this argument) only seem associate those traits with animals, with something lesser than ourselves.

The thing is, being “an animal” doesn’t need to be an insult or a condemnation of any kind. Humans are still animals but humans are still kind, and caring, humans have still created beautiful art and music and food and architecture and have got to the stars will probably go beyond the stars all while still being an “animal”.

So I think where most people get hung up on word “animal” is because it has such a negative connotation when applied to humans. And thus that negative connotation basically perpetuates itself so the only time we call other humans animals is when we mean to attack their humanity.

So back to Logan. Imo, there is no better example of this than the way people, Logan included, treat his (and subsequently him) berserker rage. Logan describes it as a monster that shares his soul, something else inside him, the real thing that makes him a monster, something that he doesn’t like, something he’s scared of, something he can’t always control but that he does everything in his power to keep away from the people he loves. Because Logan doesn’t like to kill, he doesn’t like hurting people. He might be good at it, he might be known for it but that doesn’t mean he likes it. Even when he thinks death is a deserved punishment, he isn't ever happy about having to kill. And he even says as much at one point in the comics.

And as a real quick aside, but this is almost exactly what sets him apart from Victor Creed. They're both men whose mutation gives them heightened animal like traits. The only difference is that Logan is ashamed of those parts of himself especially when they pertain to violence where Victor likes it, enjoys it; he goes out of his way for violence.

(If there is more to Victor Creed than meets the eye please tell me bc I gotta say I don’t actually know too much about him except that any time I see him in any Wolverine media I immediately laugh bc I know the two around to brawl. And I’m almost never wrong lmao)

And mind you there are times when Logan is also a hammer in the sense that he tends to punch his way through most of his problems. But he doesn't go out of his way for it in the same way Victor does despite having every reason to.

Logan has killed people but unlike Victor he isn't a killer. Even if that's what he's "the best at".

So when he goes into this specific rage that labels him a monster (an animal) it’s almost always in front of someone he loves and it’s almost always in a moment when he’s trying to prove his humanity (when it’s being used thematically and not for plot convenience). Like if you go read the comics 9 times out 10 when Logan is being called a monster or animal by some scientist or an enemy looking to humiliate him. But it’s almost always in the mitts of a life or death situation. A situation that anyone would fight light hell to get out of even with an amazing healing factor like Logan’s.

Because he still feels pain.

He still wants to survive.

He still feels.

And at the end of it all, he feels ashamed and horrified with himself and he'll always have to live with that guilt and shame. There's a point in one of the comics when he describes his heart as being slower to heal than the rest of his body and I think its interesting because although that story he's talking more from a "heart broken" sense. I also think that can apply just as equally to idea that it also harder for him to heal from not just heart break but also from shame and guilt. In certain situations, it takes longer for him to forgive himself emotionally because he suffers physically in the short term. He’ll never have a physical scar of his wrong doing and so he carries the emotional weight of it with him.

But also because he isn't just dealing with himself. In those moments when he comes out of that rage, the people he loves are in shock and are scared because they saw the “monster” and some people do reject it and in so they reject him and although rejection is something Logan thinks he deserves, it doesn’t make that pain hurt any less. it doesn't make it any easier to heal just because you agree with them, and in a way I think that's what slows down that healing process. Logan's inability to forgive himself.

Because that's the thing, Logan, would rather be scared of himself than forgive himself, be it because of his past trauma or because of the Weapon X program (which in the Weapon X comic it’s implied if not outright stated that the scientist at Weapon X are the reason he feels the fear he does about himself). Logan is scared of no one on Earth more than the man he sees in the mirror. And that’s because in his lowest moments when he looks in the mirror he doesn't see a man, instead he sees an animal, a monster. He doesn’t need the rest of the world to tell him what he already thinks of himself, it just doesn’t help that he has a choir of voices that are sometimes louder than his own telling him his worst fear is real. He is the monster that hides under his own bed but the problem is, while the monster is 'real' is a physical sense, it does not share a soul with him anymore than the boogeyman does. He wrestles with himself. Somedays he believes he's a man like anyone else and other days he can't drown out the voices telling him he's nothing more than a monster.

And as my last touch on the beserker rage, I want to posit my own theory about it. Personally believe to some extent that it isn’t part of his natural mutation and that instead it’s something that was “given” to him by the Weapon X program. The reason I say this is because I think it would make a lot of sense that like the adimantium claws and false memories it would make sense to give you “weapon” this uncontrollable rage (that mostly comes out in times of great duress). Not just because it would be one more thing Weapon X has taken from him (control over his own emotions/body) but also because wouldn’t that just make sense on the side of the people who ran the project? That your living puppet have a fail safe of sorts in case it ran into something bigger than itself? During the Weapon X comic, the scientist are constantly surprised by how resilient he is and even though some of this surprise happens in a false memory, they really do believe they can kill him at one points so if they thought they could kill him, why not something else? Why not give their investment insurance? And what better insurance for an animal than monstrous rage.

But of course none of this is even to talk about the kind of person Logan really is. The thing that I think most people (in the comics) tend to ignore about Logan, in favor of focusing on his rough exterior (and some of his more questionable characteristics) is that he really does have a heart of gold. Now do not get me wrong, he can do some pretty fucked up shit (I will not talk about the Jean and Scott love triangle bc it gives me a migraine) but he does regularly do things that show how much empathy he has. That show that despite what he (or the rest of the world) might think, he isn’t a monster. The best examples of this are his relationships and more specifically the relationships where he’s a father/mentor. Like his relationship with Kitty Pryde and Jubilee, two kids that he basically adopts/takes under his wing and constantly goes out of his way for. Some of you might remember this post and the reason Logan does eventually fuck Wade’s shit up is because Wade literally punches the ever living shit out of Kitty in front of Logan. In another comic issue (after this), Logan beats the shit out of Wade again for punching Kitty, it’s funny but it also just goes to show that he does take protection of his family seriously. And mind you he doesn’t hunt Deadpool down, he find him by sheer plot coincidence when he’s getting a book signed for Kitty and the author just so happened to be Deadpool’s mark.

And mind you, Logan does have love for his own kids (Laura and Daken) despite the troubled nature of both this relationships but again those are a little more complicated. That’s partially for plot reasons but also because they play into just how much Logan hates himself that he struggles active show the same love for his adopted family to his “blood” family (again with Daken it’s a lot more complicated) but I also think that not only are his relationships with them fraught because of how much he hates himself but because both Laura and Daken were experimented on just and manipulated like he was (and in Daken’s case by a major player of Weapon X) so while he does love them past his own self hatred, they are also a reminder of his deepest traumas. It’s not their fault and it’s not necessarily Logan’s fault either, it’s just the cards their characters were dealt. (I haven’t read any comics with them yet so once I do I will most likely write my thoughts on his relationship with them each individually)

Regardless, Logan, depsite what he’d like you to think, is a deeply loving, empathetic and loyal person and this doesn’t just extend to people who considers family:

(Logan says this a man who not only a few issues ago was trying to kill him and his partner/friends. He saved Roughouse (the character he went berserk on a few pictures ago) because he was being experimented on in a way not too dissimilar to the way he had been by Weapon X. And if I remember correctly this is before he even knows how he got the adimantium in his bones)

He is James 'Logan' Howlett. He is a man whose life was stolen from him so many times over. He is a man who believes that the worse parts of him are all that matter and fails (or refuses) to see the good he has done in the lives of the people he cares about and believes that only death will truly bring him peace. He is someone who despite his flaws can’t help but to be kind. He is someone who fights like hell for what he believes is right. And even if he believes he’s a monster, even if the world believes he’s a monster, he will try to do the right thing because although he knows his soul is damned that doesn’t mean that exempts him from doing what good he can. He is someone who gives and good as he gets and then some. He’s the best at what he does but for him, that isn’t alway what he thinks it is.

And I think that’s the beauty of Logan as a character. Someone whose life is so wrought with tragedy and yet he is someone who can’t help but to be kind, someone who can’t help but love and care and find the humanity in the world despite the world seeming to be hellbent on taking his humanity away. Even though he (and many people in universe) might disagree with me, he is not only a one of the best humanity has to offer but he is also a shining example of the tenacity of the human spirit.

#deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #poolverine #james logan howlett #wolverine #I’ve been working on this one for a while so I might not post my Deadpool one until the end of the month #there are probably some things I forgot to mention but I think this is pretty good all things considered

22 notes · View notes

kiyo-cant-write · 20 hours ago

Text

vil schoenheit with an otaku s/o

I felt like we needed something on this blog with my bias, Vil. So I took it upon myself to write something.

This comes from my love of pairing otakus and nerds with ultra-glamorous people. Vil/Idia is also something I enjoy, but as this blog is catered to reader-insert content, have this.

If anyone has any Vil requests I may prioritize them....

Summary: [Name] is the s/o of Vil Schoenheit and an otaku who challenges the shut-in Ignihyde Housewarden for his title. They have a fixation on games and often find themselves obsessed with them. What does Vil think of this?

TW/CW: None

Notes: established relationship, they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is implied to be Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, the reader is younger than Vil (lightly implied), explicitly post B5

Guest Stars: Rook Hunt. Neige LeBlanche (implied/referenced), Idia Shroud (mentioned)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Vil Schoenheit

Vil wasn't always so open to dating someone who obsesses over fiction and 2D media to this degree.

Idia always irked him a bit, but maybe it was the tablet.

Honestly, he still doesn't really understand.

Vil Schoenheit is the commodity, not the consumer.

He respects his s/o for their dedication, though.

The only criticisms he has are if they do not take care of themselves properly (like neglecting food or sleep for games).

Vil has come to know random things about whatever anime or game his s/o likes and picks up special items when opportunities arise at work, albeit without drawing attention to it publicly.

What Vil wasn't prepared for was [Name]'s friendship with Rook.

It's a blessing and a curse to be in their presence.

He's thrilled they get along... but once they start yapping... it never ends and is typically about Vil himself or worse Neige LeBlanche.

Vil often pretends that he doesn't hear those chats.

He finds the praise from his s/o nice, though.

He's relieved they aren't one of his creeper fans.

Be assured that he did some interrogating early on for safety.

Vil appreciates that they live outside the spotlight.

It means that he can be "normal" with them.

It's nice to just be "Vil" and not some mega-star.

Vil values that even though they love his work, they also love him as a person, the Vil that the rest of the world isn't privy to.

Vil grimaced at the sight of his darling partner who was buried in blankets on the couch trying to "grind" for an "SSR" in some game about idols. He didn't pretend to understand such concepts but he was certainly watching it happen before him: [Name] was ignoring the world for games.

He sighed but he knew he chose this.

[Name] gave that tablet-wielding Idia Shroud a run for his title, surely. They were a shut-in as any otaku was, keeping their darling face away from view and covered by baggy clothing. They took poor care of themselves when "banners" were yielding?

That was what got on Vil's nerves the most. The utter disregard for their health in favor of fictional men and digital items.

"[Name]," Vil said, trying to get his beloved's attention.

They did not answer.

That's alright, they probably did not hear him.

"[Name]," he repeated a bit more urgently.

They remained focused on their screen, unaware of the person standing beside their cozy setup. Vil wasn't sure if he was offended or not. The housewarden sighed before using the only trick he had up his sleeve at the moment.

"[Full Name]."

"HUH?!?"

[Name] whipped around like they had heard gunshots and were faced with the radiant beauty of their boyfriend.

Oh! It was Vil!

"Sorry, Vil," [Name] offered, looking down for a moment to ensure that the story was paused, "I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"And that," Vil told them, "is a crime in and of itself, I look lovely today and you should appreciate all beauty that graces your eyes."

Vil smiled, posing in a way that made it seem natural. A hand on his hip asserted that Vil held the power in this room, even when it was not his dorm. Pomefiore's housewarden was too charismatic for words sometimes.

"You know, dear, like Rook always says and does..." Vil continued, pausing for a moment at the thought of his vice housewarden, "Though maybe not so enthusiastically as him."

"I love you so much, V, but I also have so many pulls I need to do to get this SSR," [Name] told Vil, tapping into the next part of the event they were working on, "This. is. why. I. exist. And Idia put the support card I told... begged him to."

[Name] had ventured to Ignihyde the other day, Ortho accompanying them, to beg the Game Master to put his level 105 maxed stat card for support. It was a terrifying journey that incurred the wrath of the heavens (Idia screamed in such a shrill voice that he nearly gave [Name] tinnitus) but it was worth it. The Game Master ceded and the support for the battle was won! Huzzah!

"I can see that this means a lot if you cried to Shroud about it, but you... " Vil trailed off until he noticed a familiar bag by the side of the couch, "I'm sorry, darling, do you have a guest?"

"Eh, do I have a guest?" [Name] asked Vil.

With that, Vil was about to launch into another lecture about how they should watch their house and remember if people were present, but he was cut off by the entry of one (1) Rook Hunt wearing something he would be skinned for if he were at Pomefiore with his hair tangled as if he fell asleep half smothered into something, hair and all. Vil could believe his eyes, but he didn't want to.

"Do I even want to know?" Vil asked him.

Rook raised his hands in a shrug that felt a tad passive-aggressive.

"I'm not going to ask then, neither of you has the answer that keeps my sanity alive," Vil said, sighing as he closed his eyes to avoid questioning his vice housewarden.

"We're doing this for you, Roi du Poison!" Rook told him.

"In what world does this game have anything to do with me?"

Vil was floored by the implication that he was familiar with one of these idol-ish games. He had worked on them once or twice, sure, but that was hardly the same as being a fan, a player.

"I thought this as well, but [Name] explained it to me!"

And... Rook was enthused. Yay. Time for theatrics.

"Rook, I'm not in the mood for theatrics, try to be concise."

"Of course, My Queen!"

"Rook-senpai did you make food?" [Name] asked him, cutting into the conversation.

"It is cooking now!" Rook assured with a (slightly scary) smile.

"I thought you..." Vil trailed off once more, it wasn't worth it.

Rook was here, he wasn't. [Name] knew, they didn't. At least Epel wasn't also here trying to get muscular at a dangerous speed (again). In the end, the hunter had agreed to cease his shenanigans, but there were sure to be more theatrics and tomfoolery ahead. It might seem impossible, but Vil could sense it.

"Do you two wish to tell me what has you so involved in this game? And how in all of this Twisted Wonderland it pertains to me?" the housewarden asked after a moment sitting down on the Ramshackle couch after a moment of deliberation and joining his vice housewarden and the love of his young life.

"It has everything to do with you!" [Name] told him, managing to tap away at the rhythm game while speaking which Vil would never admit impressed him, "I'm doing this because I love you.... and the cards. But mostly for you, V!"

"It's about your honor, Beautiful Vil!" Rook added.

About his honor? How was this about his honor?

Vil sighed as he turned to Rook. His hair was still a nest on his head, one fit for a bird. His golden hair color aided that appearance.

"I really wish you would fix your hair, Rook..."

Rook shook his head, expression saddening if only for a moment.

"Non, non. There is no time for it when your honor is at stake!"

And... Yeah, there's no stopping Rook now. Vil admitted to that defeat as much as it pained him, a couple of years of friendship had taught him not to... Well, to be crude, not to fuck with that.

"Yeah!!" [Name] agreed, "We need to focus on this. And... Win!"

Oh, good. Lovely. His lover was also not backing down.

Vil sighed as he leaned closer to [Name], a show of his own tiredness that he seemed to neglect the wrinkles to his clothing that could form. His face close to theirs, he watched their game, skimming the dialogue of the stylized men on the screen and trying to parse through why the player seemed to have a hoard of 167 men at their disposal while also being a 17-year-old orphan with dead famous parents who left them a company in their will.

Maybe I should have paid more attention when Idia tried to explain his visual novel collection to me...

Vil continued to watch, slowly feeling himself grow just a tad invested in the story. He cursed it, wanting to say he was above falling for the media he seldom worked in... And here he was, wondering what the MC was going to do now that one of the beautiful young men had been kidnapped by some kind of underground association of famous men. He was still a bit unclear about that last part.

"This is why, V," [Name] told him, tapping the arrow on the screen to reveal a character Vil had not seen in the section [Name] was reading.

They were tall blond with deep blue eyes wearing a shimmering gown and extremely high heels.

Vil looked back to [Name].

"Everyone is saying this character is the in-game equivalent of you," they told him, "So I wanted to help them... win against..."

A voice echoed from Rook's phone that sounded eerily similar to a certain raven-haired boy's voice. But it wasn't, Vil was certain of it. There was a certain energy to Neige's voice that this person did not have, a kind of sweetness that made Vil's stomach churn a bit.

"The you-coded guy is going to be my strongest card and he will win in the polls! Rook and I will make sure of it!" [Name] told Vil, "Also if he does lose I still have to do a favor for Idia-senpai so I really don't wanna lose."

The fact that [Name] was willing to go to such lengths for his apparent honor was heartwarming to Vil if not a tad silly. Since the events of the competition, Vil had rethought some of his prior-made statements, but it seemed that [Name] and Rook both wanted to assure him of his worth and that was... sweet, honestly. A little weird considering they chose an anime game to do so, but sweet nonetheless.

He smiled at [Name], pressing a kiss to their cheek.

"Thank you, my love," he told them before looking over at Rook, "And you as well, I suppose, Rook."

"...Might this lessen the pain I caused at the VDC?" Rook asked.

"I'm no longer angry but perhaps," Vil told the hunter.

"And it was all my idea!" [Name] cheered, glowing with pride.

"Oui, your shared love is most radiant~" Rook practically sang, pausing his rhythm game (he has a full combo and SS rank) to stand and gesture boldly to Vil and [Name].

"I know, it's why I love them so much," Vil mused.

Yes, having a significant other with differing interests had perks, sometimes. Vil had to admit that every once in a while, [Names] hobby was cute, on them anyway... Vil wasn't so sure he could handle it if they came to school as a tablet like Idia.

Imagine the rest for yourself~

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

44 notes · View notes

thereal6anoufriev6boy6 · 2 days ago

Text

trans!dylric fanfic

dylan a pregnancy test behind YOU 💜

note: i didnt get to read over this so it might be messed up and rushed.

i dont need support

‘cause ive got my underwire bra

youre into rigor mortis

aint that against the law?

eric had always known dylans secret.

after walking in on him changing his clothes everything had been different.

they stayed pretty normal except for when they started to fool around.

why die a virgin when you can get it on with your best friend?

they always did it whenever one of their houses were empty - not wasting time to show up and get it on with each other.

however, recently dylan had started to like this less and less. he found it pretty nice before, but now they were getting into *other* things.

they both were freaks no questions asked, but they’d recently watched a lot of snuff films that involved necrophiles having their way with dead girls.

dylan wasnt a huge fan, but eric seemed to like it.

which led them to tonight.

dylan was laid out on erics bed - limp and unmoving. he was wearing a t-shirt with sweatpants while eric wore a t-shirt and jeans.

he wasnt wearing his binder or boxers. he knew better.

instead he wore a navy blue wired bra with some lacy frills on the top and a tiny bow in the middle as well as a pair of matching panties.

eric liked when he wore bras and panties instead of boxers and binders during sex - it made it easier and more attractive.

“just lay still, alright?” eric asks as he sits over top the blondes legs, getting a short nod in return.

he could do that. laying still wasn’t particularly hard. anything for eric.

the brunette starts to unzip his jeans, still talking “dont say anything either or make noise.”

dylan isnt too fond of that. he doesnt want to have to be quiet whenever doing this in general meant the opposite.

“whatever, man.” he replied, earning a glare.

the boy continued though, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down with his boxers just enough to get his cock out.

he was already hard - hand wrapped around the base as he stroked himself a couple of times.

the boy below him watches. it felt surreal. he wasnt supposed to be alive and breathing - wasnt supposed to be able to feel the heat in his stomach or the wetness in between his thighs, but he could.

he was supposed to be dead. supposed to be cold and unfeeling, but he wasnt.

erics freehand pulled down dylans sweatpants to reveal his panties, swallowing hard at the sight.

“god, so glad to have you.” he huffed, dragging a hand over the scars on his left thigh “youre the perfect dead girl. im gonna fuck you so hard. youre not even gonna feel a thing.”

the nausea was a common feeling that came with their sex. getting called a girl was something he was used to by now - he could handle it even if it made him sick. anything for eric.

his nails dig into the sheets of the bed, stopping himself from talking.

his hand slides up his thigh to the hem of his panties, pulling them down in one swift movement.

normally, dylan would see this like how a prey animal sees a predator, but he wasnt alive. this was the aftermath of that. he was a corpse being fed on by maggots and bugs.

the brunette pressed his cock against the other boys cunt immediately, grinding against the wet, warm area that was waiting just for him.

dylan has to bite his lip, suppressing any noise hed normally make.

eric on the other hand is making as much noise as he wants. groaning and huffing as he drags the head of his cock against the others pussy, grinding it right against his hole before shoving himself inside.

he always made room for himself.

the “dead” boy on the bed cant help the whine that comes out of him, but it seemingly goes ignored as the boy on top wastes no time.

he already has a pace set - he pulls out, shoving back in, and then repeating it rather quickly and harshly.

he never wasted time. never was slow or careful.

just as the maggot wastes no time feasting on flesh, eric also wastes no time in pushing up dylans shirt to get at his bra - cupping half his chest in one hand and squeezing as hard as he wanted.

dylan handles it. even when his blunt nails dig into his skin.

he was dead. he couldnt feel it so he wouldnt react.

“youre so *warm*,” it comes out in a heavy breath “if you werent really dead then id be screwed over,” he lets go of his chest, leaving his shirt up, before grabbing his legs and putting them over his shoulder “someone could find out i - that i *raped* you, but youre dead. you cant tell.”

its a sick thought, its a sick fantasy - its everything and its nothing.

dylan still takes it though, trying his best to hold back his words and actions. he would do this a hundred times over. anything for eric.

he wished he was dead. he *felt* dead. his entire life he had felt like he were having to carry around the corpse of someone else.

the corpse of something. the corpse of someone and something that once was, now tossed to the side and forced to be dragged along with this new body, but even this new body felt dead.

eric bends dylans legs, leaning over him now. hes breathing next to his ear and being as rough as he possibly could be. hes saying *something* but its all tuned out.

he placed a kiss to his lips, but he doesnt move. he lets his mouth be opened forcefully, feeling the other shove his tongue down his throat and “make out” with him.

a hand placed itself over his chest again, squeezing and groping him as much as he pleased.

the obscene sounds of skin and sweat and wetness coming together is nauseating. the feeling of spit and drool dripping down his chin is disgusting.

the brunette pulls away from his mouth, breathing hard.

he gives the other a look - a look that told him he was done with his weird fantasy.

“cmon - fuck, vodka, moan for me,” it would sound gross to anyone else, but to dylan it sounded like heaven “come on, i gotta hear you.” it sounds almost pathetic. it sounds almost *romantic*.

however he obliged, finally letting himself moan and whine to his hearts content. he wrapped his arms over the others neck and just for a moment he felt alive. he felt real.

they go back to kissing - dylan bucking his hips up while erics meet his half way, practically slamming right into him just so he could finish faster.

it was so painful. he felt so alive - he felt loved in some sick way. he felt dead and used.

it wasnt long until eric had finished, cumming into dylan as he followed quickly behind him.

he didnt care. it felt sticky, gross, and horrific but *god* did it feel good at the same time.

theyre both barely able to catch their breath before theyre already separated.

eric notices the white liquid dripping onto the sheets and getting onto dylans thighs.

“shit, sorry, vee.” he sounds almost concerned.

the blonde shrugged, falling back against the bed.

“its fine, reb. dont worry about it.” he didnt have the energy to care.

he felt empty, he felt full. he felt full of life and deader then dead.

eric was never the most careful. this has happened before and nothing ever came of it so he didnt worry about it.

theyd use condoms, but they both found them to be uncomfortable and not worth the effort.

whatever. it didnt matter.

he just wanted to lay down and sink into the bed.

the other boy flops down next to him, obviously having the same idea.

neither say a word. what is there to say?

the both look like messes.

dylans bangs are stuck to his face and his clothes are still out of order, hes covered in his own cum as well as his friends.

eric was sweating through his t-shirt and his dick was still out, slick and cold now.

theyd worry about it later - nothing mattered right now.

dylan hadnt been feeling well.

he had to stay home from school quite a lot in the past week or so.

he was getting nauseous and throwing up often. it was miserable.

eric though had come over to keep him company. he really wasnt a bad guy. he was a great friend.

the two had been in bed all morning, talking and ranting about whatever while dylan was half hung over the bed throwing up into a trash can.

eric was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, trying to be supportive for the other boy.

“i dont get how youre sick,” he speaks, fidgeting with his watch “i cant think of a reason.”

the blonde shrugged tiredly “probably got it from someone,” he decided “cant think of who though.”

that seems to be a good enough answer for the two of them. it was plausible, it made sense.

although a moment later dylan was getting up and out of bed.

“aw, crap, dude. ill be back.”

he doesnt wait for an answer before leaving the room, making his way into the bathroom.

he was practically puking his guts up as soon as he stepped in there, sitting on the floor in front of the toilet.

he felt awful. his throat and head hurt from puking so much. it couldnt just be a normal flu or something - it wasnt ever this bad, but he couldnt think of anything better.

some of his puke drips off his mouth and gets on his shirt. he sighed, irritated.

“reb, can you come in here?” he called to the other room, his voice coming out hoarse.

the brunette shows up a minute later “oh vee, you look terrible.” it comes out with a slight snicker, making his friend roll his eyes.

“yeah, yeah, i know,” he paused, sitting back “can you help me get my shirt off?”

“sure.”

he stepped over to dylan, bending over and pulling his shirt off of him. he was too exhausted and warn out to do it himself.

“thanks, man.” he smiled, but was quickly interrupted by gagging that was followed by more puke.

“its whatever.” he replied, tossing the shirt on the floor. surprisingly he could keep himself together around his shirtless friend who had his chest out.

speaking of, “why do you have your tits out?” he asks bluntly with all the grace a teenage boy has.

“hurts when i wear a bra,” dylan answers honestly “or anything really.” he manages to get it out between gags.

eric hums.

as the boy on the floor pukes again, the other above him holds his hair back for him this time.

it makes his heart flutter and his stomach warm.

however in the vomiting filled silence, dylan has a thought that quickly becomes a realization.

he hadnt had his period this month yet which was abnormal for him. it wasnt usually late and accompanied with everything else…well he didnt have a good feeling.

“i havent gotten my period, dude.” he says it abruptly, earning a weird look from eric who was clearly uncomfortable from that statement “yeah, so?”

he managed to sit back, wiping the puke off his mouth.

he sits there, staring up at him.

“i think im pregnant, eric.”

eric blinked, raising a brow.

“what? seriously?”

it goes quiet for a moment.

“yeah. i mean, this is all too much just for being sick.”

neither of them are really sure what to say. they were both two stupid teenage boys who could barely process this. not to mention their plans and just life in general.

dylan gets up, standing up on his own two feet as he turned to eric.

“i dont know what to do, dude.”

“how the hell would i know?,” it comes out too harshly “i dont know what you want me to do about that crap.”

the blonde swallows hard “i just dont want to be alone while i take care of it.” the thought of being on his own horrified him. he just wanted eric to be here with him through this like everything else.

“yeah, whatever. we cant even be sure,” theres an odd tone to his voice - one that sounds shaky and uncomfortable “shouldnt you take one of those tests? i dont want to assume crap.”

that was true - he really should take one to be sure.

“yeah, ill take one.”

“if - if its positive i dont want anything to do with it,” he paused “ill stick with you, but i dont want to be apart of that process.”

“yeah, alright.” dylan answered quietly.

he didnt blame him, although it hurt.

this was a lot. this was so much he wasnt and never would be prepared for.

he felt like a corpse harboring so many life forms all at once. he felt sick, he felt disgusting, he felt used, but he knew he shouldnt feel that way. he didnt have a reason.

he didnt want any of this. none of this was anything he ever wanted.

he didnt want to be a girl and to go through this. he didnt want to be like the girls in his class who got knocked up and disappeared for months at a time.

“lets just get it over with.” eric decided for them “come on.” he walked out of the bathroom.

dylan followed after him, not caring about the shirt situation since they were home alone.

he hoped it wasnt what he thought it was.

but he was unlucky.

he was never dealt a good hand at the table no matter how many times he played.

maggots couldnt stop picking at him even if he was just bones.

life always had different plans.

#dylan columbine #eric and dylan #eric columbine #tcc columbine #columbine 1999 #dylric #dylan and eric #tcc tumblr #tccblr #teeceecee #tcctwt #tcc fandom #teceecee #anoufrievboy fanfics

23 notes · View notes