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home-at-nine · 22 days ago

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Chapter 8

I sit at the dinner table. Will's across from me and Frog is munching away at the shakshuka.

The TV blares in the background. News. Frog doesn't like the news very much. We always joke that she doesn't like horror movies. Something about a concert bombing.

"You met Dicky?," I hear from Will as I taste the perfect blend of food. Hm... yeah. I did. He was an okay guy. Weird self-comforting habits, but nothing I haven't seen before. Sweet kid, really.

"Atlas?"

What? Oh.

"Yeah, I did. He was an okay guy. Weird self-comforting habits, but nothing I haven't seen before. Sweet guy, really."

"How'd it go?"

I look at Frog. She's unbothered, scrolling through TikTok while we eat. Wish she wouldn't but it's damn sure helpful when we're talking about things we don't want her to hear. I just hope she doesn't get on that annoying ass brainrot wagon. "It went okay."

He knows to ask me later now I think. I look to Frog. "You been studying and keeping up with what you need to?"

"Huh? Yeah.."

She's not paying attention. I can't help but chuckle. I'm annoyed but it's nice that she can be so normal now. Less... quiet. Well, she's not talking, but you know. In energy.

"Good," let's wake her up a bit, "we're looking for places to put you in school and Will thinks he found somewhere quite nice."

"Oh, okay-", her head finally whips away from her phone. "Oh. Okay??? When did you do that?"

"I'm proactive," he jokes. Well, I think he thinks he's joking. He is very proactive. Wish my procrastinating ass had an ounce of that proactivity. Proactivity? Proactiveness? Whatever.

We finish up dinner and I begin washing the dishes. I hear a familiar song in the background. "I know, you know... something something they just don't have any proof". I smell the dish soap in the air. Lemony. I hear the buzzing of the electricity in the lights. A familiar hum. A soothing hum. The warmth from the air conditioning, makes my skin tingle and the hairs on my arm dance. This feels like home. More than "home" ever did. Home's with them. Will and Frog. I don't need nothing and nobody else.

Will makes his way to me with his plates and tries to join in. Hell no. I look back to make sure Frog isn't hearing in.

"Dicky got himself a sugar daddy," I keep washing the plates. It's nice to clean things. See the mess wash away.

"Yeah, I heard something about that. Some Wall Street guy. He seemed nice enough."

"Well, I wouldn't say financial abuse is very nice. And neither is physical abuse."

Will took a pause. He's not particularly showing his surprise on his face. Him and I have learnt by now there's no point in getting surprised. Expectations are best unmade. But it looks like he really didn't think this would happen. He takes a short breath, as if he's about to say something. No sound comes out. Looks like he really doesn't know what to say.

"You met him before?," I continue. "Didn't expect something like that from him?"

"I suppose not. He came by the restaurant a few times. Sat at the bar. Ordered a few apps, but never any entrees. Left good tips for the waiter. Not really the picture you'd paint of an abuser."

"Well, abusers aren't simple. They're not simple people. No one is. And violence can come from anyone."

Will doesn't like hearing that point. He can't particularly disagree with it. He can't condemn it, not when it's gotten some rather great outcomes for us when I've used it. But he doesn't like it.

"So what are you doing about it?", He asks. Good question. Probably break a few fingers when he's on his way back from home and then help Dicky move his stuff out while he's in the ER.

"Atlas? You listening?"

"Oh. Yeah, I'm just going to help Dicky find the courage to move out, find some footing, and... build again."

Will seems pleased with that answer, for some reason. He tries again to join in on doing the dishes. Hell nah. I swipe at his hand and smack it away. He pouts. Don't pout, pretty boy. You're too pretty to make that face. I wash the froth of the soap off my hands and smack his ass.

"No, you cook, I do the dishes. Only fair."

"Oh shut up," he pushes me and rolls up his sleeves.

Pretty motherfucker.

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Dessert was quite nice. Rocky road ice cream with Will and Frog cuddling up to me while we laughed at Shawn Spencer's antics. Today's been a dream of a day.

What time is it? 0230? Frog should be out for the count by now. Will... doomscrolling Reddit? Or something along those lines. Probably blasting Phoebe Bridgers and Leith Ross in his headphones with the volume cranked to brain damage. Essentially alone now. Door locked? Check. Lovely.

I pull the duffel bag from under the bed. It's a big bigger that my torso, a comfortable size. Real shame I left it here, honestly. Would have been lovely for when we moved out. Black, with the perfect number of pockets.

Let's take inventory:

Pocketbooks (x2)

Articles of clothing (x7)

Credit cards, limit of around $10000 (x3)

Cash ($20000)

Hard cases (x3)

Knives (x4) - Hunting, Survival, Pocket, and a Karambit (They're cool)

Fake Drivers' Licenses (x3)

And some other things. I do think I'm a good enough magician to keep a few tricks up my sleeve. Shush.

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Jerry's still sleeping off that beatdown from earlier right? I should ask for a raise for this bullshit.

He came in later again, didn't he? The boy from earlier. With a man. Covered in about half as many bruises as Jerry is right now. Did he beat him too? But then he drank with him?

He seemed very sad when he came in. Covered in little bruises. But the boy made him laugh? Why am I stuck in a building that sees so many fucking weirdos?

As my mind races, a cacophony of cluttering and clanking echoes from the hall to the manager's office. I hear the old dick bitch and moan as he gets up from his couch. Afternoon naps while I work my ass off here. I'm adding extra hours to my timekeeping.

As he comes behind the bar to grab himself a bottle, he asks, "Did he leave you his number?"

"Uh... yes?"

"Keep it safe. Hell, memorize it. Freak's at least useful to know. What did he say his name was?"

"Atlas... but he said he doesn't care if you keep calling him Spencer."

"Atlas, huh? Funny."

I walk to the door leading up to my apartment. The floor creaks with every other step. The smell of cheap and expensive liquor mixing in the air. I look back at Jerry real quick before I shut the door behind me.

I see him pull his phone out. The one he tries to hide from everyone. A beat up old Nokia. He's not very good at that. I hear it beep with every number he presses. He looks... excited? Didn't know he was into that hardcore stuff.

I close the door behind me as I go up to sleep and forget all about the day.

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achoonihaachu · 3 years ago

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God Must Hate Me

A/N: Hello! this is the first time I'm like,, posting a story here on Tumblr so yeah! This is my take on the "replaced mc au" that i've fallen completely in love with. The angst, the drama, the fluff or bittersweet endings?! sign me up. This will most likely be a 2-3 part series then I might do headcanons if you like my writing style! Thank you to @its-dari for letting me take inspiration from her version of this AU. More drama will come in the following parts soooo stay tuned! <333

pairings: mc x brothers (platonically... for now), mc x dateables (platonically... for now), mc x fem!oc

warning: this fic contains verbal abuse, talk of insecurities, cursing, possible spoilers for lesson 16 in following installments (warnings will be added in future chapters to fit the story!)

remember: you are worth more than every piece of diamond and gold on this Earth. you are loved. you are worth it. you are brave. if anyone ever makes you feel like you're less than, they are wrong. you're wonderful.

Have you ever loved somebody to the point where you choose to ignore your own needs for theirs? The somber feeling that settles in your chest as you give them everything to keep the smile on their face has become a familiar sensation that’s still so foreign for some reason.

It’s overwhelming but not at the same time.

You could never blame someone for dropping something- or someone- “old” and “worn out” for something new and shiny. Like when a child can’t help but let their old favorite toy collect dust on their bedside table for the new Christmas present they got. You understood fully the excitement someone new can bring. The experiences they’ve had bring about new stories and new emotions, something new to talk about.

You used to be the very thing they considered new and shiny.

The day you arrived in the Devildom, you were afraid. You were expected, nay forced to acclimate to this new environment, this new system, to a new set of rules lest you felt like being a demon’s next meal. You had to rely on seven selfish brothers who, over time, grew on you. You learnt to love their culture, the food they ate, the very beings in the realm. Whether it was due to survival instincts or perhaps you truly learnt to love the Devildom, you weren’t quite sure.

You learnt to laugh with them, cry with them. You celebrated with them and overcame failures with them. Countless nights you spent cheering them on, and what do you get in return? You get tossed aside the moment they meet someone smarter than you, prettier than you-

Someone they deemed to be ultimately better than you in all aspects.

You didn’t know who to blame; Should you blame Diavolo for picking you? Perhaps blame Lucifer for suggesting you? Should you blame Barbatos for feigning ignorance to the future that was in store when you first met? Hell, you could’ve even blamed God for The Fall- if they didn’t fall from the Celestial Realm, they’d still be there and you wouldn’t be feeling so shitty.

After considering everything, you decided that it would be best if you just blamed the gust of wind that had to stick its nose into your business. Maybe you could ask Barbatos to let you go back in time to the day they were skimming through the papers. You could’ve closed the damn window and maybe that would’ve managed to save you from the heartache you were now feeling.

Silly human, silly emotions.

You didn’t know how many weeks have passed since you first met the new exchange student. It could’ve been a month or 10 months, it wouldn’t have made any sort of difference. Yuki was everything you could’ve only wished you were. She was pretty, smart, kind- she got close to the brothers so much more easily than you did, even the other exchange students warmed up to her quickly.

She was the new and shiny toy you were so afraid of meeting.

As much as you wanted to hate her, you just couldn’t. In fact, she’s the only reason you even chose to stick around. Well, her and the other exchange students. She was an enigma that even Lucifer had trouble understanding. She was spunky, full of life, so lovely that you’ve spent countless nights crying into your pillow because you couldn’t hate her. You couldn’t blame her. You adored her because it was impossible to hate someone as kind as her.

The brothers would share in that sentiment.

The day she came to the Devildom, you had been tasked to guide her around RAD. Mammon was on babysitting duties again, much to his early dismay. You were ecstatic, a new human to talk to. Sure you had Solomon to chat with if you ever felt like talking to someone of your kind but that man’s as old as time itself. You needed someone about your age who knew that certain trends died off years ago. You shudder as you thought back to when Solomon tried to get Diavolo to do the whip and naenae dance.

That man needed to get out more often.

Yuki was bright-eyed, curious about the ins and outs of the Devildom as she clung onto you like an adorable koala. She marveled at the Royal Library and you watched as she ate her dessert of choice with such enthusiasm when you treated her to Madam Screams. You took her to all your favorite spots on RAD, and even took her to the clothing boutiques that sold clothes that fit the smaller human frames. You and her were practically best friends by the end of her first day.

The brothers were all a little hesitant at first. They went through a lot when you first appeared in their lives but you were a welcomed change. Diavolo had sprung the idea of a new exchange student on them quite impulsively, only giving them a week to come to terms with the fact that someone new was going to start living with them. It didn’t take long before they started to fall; one by one, they all found something to love about Yuki.

Surprisingly, Satan was the first of the brothers to warm up to your new best friend. She was a massive bookworm, loving all forms of literature back in the human realm. Whether you were quoting Shakespeare or George Orwell, she seemed to know every book reference. They quickly bonded over books and their favorite authors.

It took him about a week to let his guard down.

Next to fall for her charm was Leviathan. Yuki was so confident, strutting to wherever she needed to be without seeming cocky. Perhaps he saw something he desperately needed to have in himself. She was also obsessed with anything anime related, frequently attending conventions in full cosplay.

She had him, hook, line, and sinker, a week and a half into her stay in the Devildom.

Asmodeus lasted longer than you expected. Yuki was someone who didn’t worry too much about skincare routines, she didn’t need to worry about it so much because once again, God made it apparent that he had favorites. She didn’t ever face insecurities about her looks, she was flawless. Instead of routines, they chatted for hours on end about their favorite style eras; how certain patterns were better than others.

Rather than charming the human, Asmodeus found himself completely bewitched after 2 weeks.

Belphegor was normally a brat, it didn’t surprise you that he tried to resist her charm, or in a way, he tried to keep his distance for a while. He only lasted a little longer than a few of his other brothers. She tried her best to get to know him, only getting grunts or murmurs as responses to questions. No, she truly captured his heart when she filled in for him for his chores one day, claiming that she wanted him to get as much rest as he could get despite being fully aware that he’d been asleep for the last 7 hours.

She became his favorite human in about 3 weeks.

When Mammon stopped picking you over everyone was one of the most painful ones to deal with. He swore up and down the wall that he’d always be your “first man”, that he’d always be there for you but remembering all those moments just had you laughing pitifully at yourself. Sure, he tried his best to keep his distance, reminding you that he loved you but all it took was a single night out at the casinos and he was down for the count. They came home hanging off of each other, eyes full of happy tears as they laughed at something Mammon had said or done when he realized he was on a losing streak. Yuki was not only pretty, smart, and kind- she was also apparently incredibly lucky. She had won quite a lot that night and rather than keeping it all to herself, she gave all of her winnings to Mammon.

You would’ve joked about how it only took about a month for Mammon to sell himself for a few thousand Grimm if it didn’t hurt so much.

Remember how it hurt when Mammon basically replaced you? Take that pain and put your heart through tenfold of what you felt. It took you months to build relationships with these brothers. You cared so deeply for them, you’ve sacrificed so much to make sure that they were happy and all you wanted was for them to love you just as much as you love them. You were clinging onto them as they slowly drifted from you, choosing to marvel at the gem that was Yuki. She was everything you weren’t. They had slipped through your fingers like sand in an hourglass and you felt yourself lose your sense of dignity as you clung onto Lucifer and Beelzebub. They were hesitant, they chose to keep it professional with Yuki. Or so you thought. Imagine your surprise, then, when you walk into the kitchen one night to see Beel and Yuki cooking up a storm on one of the nights where you were in charge of cooking dinner. Your already shattered heart was crushed some more as you heard Beel say something along the lines of how he’s never eaten food as heavenly as Yuki’s cooking.

You should’ve started cooking earlier that day. What’s worse is that it happened on the day that marked the end of the first month of Yuki’s stay in the Devildom.

With all the brothers, it took you the longest to form a pact with Lucifer. In fact, an entire year in the Devildom and on the eve of your return to the human realm, it was only then did he choose to trust you enough to let you form a pact with him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to romanticize that; perhaps it was too crazy of an idea of you to daydream that he formed a pact with you because he loved you. He was the most firm of the brothers when it came to getting close to Yuki, he was ever the responsible one. The most prideful of the brothers to admit that even he was smitten by this young girl with a smile so bright that could put the Sun to shame. What he failed to consider is that you weren’t stupid. You weren’t blind. You noticed the lingering glances, the way his eyes softened whenever he stared at her as she laughed or babbled about whatever crazy thing she learnt that day. You weren’t deaf to the almost endless praises he’d be singing about every little thing about her.

The confident, ever prideful Morningstar reduced to a lovestruck puppy the day she walked into the Council Room on her first day. She had him wrapped around her finger the moment she uttered her name. You knew this even as he adamantly denied being borderline obsessed with her the minute she was in the Devildom.

Sometimes you wish you had the balls to call him pathetic.

You bottled up all your emotions, you had no other choice regardless. Yuki was perfect. You could never bring yourself to hate her. Your friendship with her remained the same throughout the next few months, if anything you found yourself growing closer to her as the brothers ignored you more and more for Yuki’s attention, and for some reason, she stuck to you like gum on the pavement.

In the months she’s lived with all of you, sure, she spent time with the brothers but she spent as much of her time with you as possible. She wakes you up before anyone else, she’d sit with you at breakfast, she sat with you in every class you had together, she’d sit in your room with you for hours, even if you two sat in complete silence. You had an inkling that this was why the brothers started to somewhat dislike you (you’d even go as far as to say a few of them despise you now). You just thought that she had such an obvious bias for you because you were another human.

Your alarm went off, the annoying buzzing putting you in an awfully sour mood already. You barely got any sleep last night, Lucifer had decided that it would be a good idea to nag your ear off as he spent hours, till the wee hours in the morning, basically trashing your grades, your appearance, and the overall impact your “less than desirable” existence had on the exchange program.

Lucifer’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard, ringing and annoying to the point where you’d have gladly picked having both your ears bleed than have to sit through another lecture. “You’re disgraceful. An utter disappointment, a failure in the exchange program. You start feeling comfortable after a decently successful first year? Grow up, (MC). You aren’t special.” Lucifer growls, blood red eyes burning holes through your skin to your soul. You shudder under his gaze. You felt so small, so useless, so weak. You closed your eyes as you turned away from him, that all too familiar stinging haunting you as you blink away the forming tears.

You’d have hexxed him if you had the strength but you were too tired to put up a fight.

You rubbed your eyes sluggishly, vision bleary as you stared at an empty spot on your desk. Your ears began to ring as you heard Asmodeus and Mammon bicker somewhere down the hallway. Out of all the brothers, you had grown afraid of running into Asmodeus the most. Though seemingly sweet on the outside, he was cruel and snide on the inside. He managed to pick at your deepest insecurities, chipping away at your confidence as you basically deteriorated into an empty husk of your former self.

You remember walking past the living room once, hearing the joyful laughter coming from Asmodeus and Yuki. Peeking your head past the corner, you stared wistfully at the way Asmodeus pampered Yuki, the way his hands gently grabbed hers as he skillfully painted on her fingernails. The way his gaze was all too loving, the same way he used to stare at you. It was too much to bear. “Honestly Yuki, you’re so beautiful, both inside and out. It’s astonishing how we all were so whipped for (MC) a year or so ago.” He says your name with such tenacity, so full of disgust that it makes you question yourself. What on Earth had you done to offend him so badly?

He was the worst.

When their voices faded slowly, you decided to finally face the day, swinging your legs to dangle off the side of the bed as you combed through your hair. You silently move around your room, putting on your uniform, grabbing pens and homework you had due, when Yuki came tumbling into your room, so full of life at 8 in the morning.

“(Y/N)! Hi! You’re looking good today!” She said sweetly as she pulled you into a tight hug. She always managed to bring a smile to your face. You greeted her back, albeit a little weakly, as you squeezed her frame.

“So look, I was wondering… If you’re free tonight, would you like to go to Majo-” Just as Yuki was asking you a question, the door swung open, revealing Mammon with Satan and Asmodeus in tow, “Yo, Yuki! Whaddya think you’re doin’ here in this dump?” He asked obnoxiously, arms folded across his chest as he sneered at you. He hadn’t bullied you per se, but he was almost as snide as Asmodeus, a remark here and there about you was enough for you to pull away. You flinched as you kept your eyes focused on the creaky floorboards. Before you could try to retort, Yuki huffed, rolling her eyes at Mammon as she stood in front of you, “Y’know Mams, you should really think about the next few words you say. I’m sure Lucifer would love to know who stole that expensive bottle of Demonus the other day.” She crooned, voice laced with sweet venom as she glared daggers at the trio.

Mammon’s mouth gaped open, eyes wide as he stared at Yuki. She obviously adored you, the brothers were well aware, but this was the first time she’s ever threatened one of them for your sake. Satan and Asmodeus shared a glance as they watched Mammon frown at you, rolling his eyes before turning to walk out. They scoffed at you before they made their leave.

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, smiling gratefully at Yuki, “T-thanks for that, Yuki.” You breathed out, hands feeling for the pile of books you had placed when Yuki came in. Her face, once contorted in worry and concern, broke out into another dazzling smile before she took one of your hands, pulling you along with her.

“They’ve been absolute jerks recently. Let’s skip breakfast here and grab some food at that diner you really like!” She beamed. You couldn’t help but giggle and nod, deciding to let loose and go along with whatever she planned that day.

For that day, she had you charmed the exact same way she charmed the boys.

You grabbed your things, hugging your books and files in one arm as you laced your other hand with hers. Too busy with sneaking around, you failed to notice the adamant blush that painted her porcelain like cheeks.

“O-Over there. That door leads to my room, remember? We can sneak off to RAD through my window!” She said, eyes gleaming with mischief. You hesitated, afraid of what the brothers, especially what the eldest, would assume and accuse you of if they don’t catch a glimpse of their new favorite human before classes start.

“You can go through the front door, I’ll go through the window, and I’ll see you by the gate, okay?” You whisper softly, pulling your hand away as you nudge her towards the dining hall. Yuki almost seemed upset when the warmth of your hand left hers. A visible pout replaced her toothy grin as she looked at you, “Why don’t we just walk out the front door together?” She said, voice almost sounding whiny.

You shake your head, a bitter smile on your lips, “Their day would be ruined if they had to see me this early in the morning, hon.”

With that, you marched back into your room, cracking open the window as you looked down at the ground from the windowsill. You had enough practice with Mammon back when he liked hanging out with you to know how to land safely. Ever since Yuki came, you were moved to a room closer to the emergency ladder at the side of the house. They had it installed when you moved, something along the lines of humans not being able to handle house fires as well as demons was their reasoning, and you never used it till now. At first you didn’t understand why Lucifer insisted that you moved, the house was practically the same in every way but now, you understood completely. Your old room was closer to Lucifer’s. You frown at the thought.

After you put your belongings into a bag, you hoist yourself up on the wooden windowsill, careful to not knock over the tiny Devildom plants you decided to start caring for. Doing your best to scale down the ladder carefully, you didn’t see the observant pair of eyes trained on your figure, watching your figure move closer and closer to the ground. Landing with a dull thud, your eyes scanned the vicinity and saw Yuki, already standing by the gate, waving at you energetically.

You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your lips as you jogged over to her.

A little ways away from you, hidden behind a magnificent tree, calculating green eyes as vibrant as the new spring took note of your lethargy, of the way your eyes look slightly sunken in and the way you seemed stressed. Taking note of what they discovered, the figure moves swiftly yet nimbly back to where they were asked to report back to.

You were none the wiser as you sneezed, halfway into taking a sip of the coffee Yuki ever graciously bought for you.

The day went by sluggishly, for lack of a better term. You were done with your homework, you aced most, if not all, of the pop quizzes thrown your way, and you were top of your class. You smiled weakly at Simeon, Solomon, and precious Luke, who had run into you in the halls. “(MC)! You… You look sickly.” Luke said, looked defeated as he hugged you. You pat his head and shrug, “I just didn’t sleep much is all, don’t worry about me!” You said with faux enthusiasm, but the bags under your eyes were anything but.

Simeon and Solomon shared a glance, unlike the pair you encountered this morning, their eyes were filled with concern and worry not disgust and irritation. They took note of how much you changed in the past few months. The once daring, chaotic, sweet MC they knew was gone… well, more afraid and hidden if anything. You zoned out quickly, picked at your food, and poured all your hours into studying. You grew pale and unresponsive at times and the other exchange students, sans Luke, managed to put two and two together when they heard the jeering the demon brothers were doing.

Without telling you, they raised this concern with Diavolo. The Demon Prince’s expression grew grim, nodding at everything the pair said and stated that he’d get down to the bottom of it. Sure, they felt guilty about going to Diavolo when this concerns you but they cared about you alot.

Just because those brothers are full fledged demons, that didn’t give them the right to treat you as anything less than a gem to treasure for life.

Simeon offered you a kind, warm smile before turning his attention back to the younger angel, “Come now, Luke. (MC), we’d love to have you and Yuki at Purgatory Hall tonight for dinner. Not to worry,” the cheeky angel leans close, “I’ll be cooking dinner. Solomon’s not allowed in the kitchen tonight.” You heard Solomon huff from beside the ravenette.

“My cooking’s great… Just ask Yuki.” He grumbled.

The girl in question immediately turned her attention on the tiny blonde angel, cooing about how cute he was and about a recipe that she wanted to ask for, “I wanna make (MC) one of those desserts you always make. They seem to adore all the treats you give them and want her to love me.” She joked, Luke nodding vigorously as he started describing his recipes in detail

The powerful sorcerer deflated, frowning as he muttered to himself about making a dish that would make you love him too. Something about the dish needing to be sweet and sour at the same time.

“Oh I’d love to come over, I’m not sure if Yuki’d be allowed, though.” You mumble, glancing at the other human student. Simeon tut-tutted, shaking his head as he folded his arms, “Those brothers ought to treat you both equally.” He whispers to himself. You hum in agreement, “Yeah…” Your voice was barely audible, the angel was unable to hear you say a word, but he saw the way your eyes looked at Yuki with sorrow and longing.

You could only pray that you’d be treated with as much love.

Yuki whined with each step you took, hands prying at yours as you drag her back to the House of Lamentation. “No! C’mon (MC)! Let me have dinner with you guys!” She whined, woeful eyes looking at you in hopes of convincing you to let her come with her. You steeled yourself. You turn to the trio from Purgatory Hall, “Could one of you be a dear and cast a spell to teleport her into the house or something?” Solomon snorted at your request.

“I’ll go home on my own if you promise me something!” Yuki cried. You stop pulling, eyebrows raised as you stare at her quizzically, “I’m listening…”, Yuki looked back at you with a sheepish grin, “Let’s grab dinner at Ristorante Six after school tomorrow.” She proposes. You ponder on it for a moment before nodding.

After all, what harm could come from dinner with your best friend?

Yuki cheers, wrapping her arms around you before bolting down the street, “I’ll see you at home (MC)!” She calls out.

That took longer than expected. You had dragged her to HoL, the house was only a few feet away, yet she grew more resistant the closer you got. When she ran down the street, you could clearly see her turn the corner through the gates and into the house. You rub your temples, “All that work and all I had to do was to agree to a bestie’s night out to get her to go willingly.” You groan.

You turned back to the angels and the sorcerer, a small smile on your face as you skipped over to them, “Let’s have dinner.” You say, pulling them along with you.

Yuki skips into the house, eyes glazed with a dreamy, far off look. She sighs happily to herself as she locks the door, “Ristorante Six…” she sings, twirling around only to halt in her steps when 6 sets of eyes stare her down.

“Yuki, I expect an apology for the shenanigans you pulled at breakfast this morning. I also heard from Asmodeus that you threatened Mammon too, is this true?” Lucifer says lowly, arms crossed as he looks down at her.

Yuki chortles, shrugging as she hangs her coat on the coat hanger by the door, “All I said at breakfast is that I’d rather hang out with (MC) than you lot. They’re the best- and I will not apologize for what I said to Mammon. He was being rude at 7 in the morning.”

At the mention of his name, Mammon steps forward, eyes full of frustration, “Listen, Yuki. You really shouldn’t hang out with (MC). You deserve better than that, y’now?” He blurts. Yuki turned to look at him slowly, eyes blazing hot with fiery anger, “You didn’t deserve them then, and you don’t deserve them now. None of you do. If you can’t see them for the amazing being they are, then I will. How fucking dare you, Mammon.” She seethes, pushing past the brothers as she stomps to her room.

The boys grew silent, heads spinning as they comprehended everything Yuki said. They didn’t understand why she was so caught up in defending your honor. Belphegor broke the silence, yawning as he turned to make his way up to the attic, “You can deal with the angry human. I don’t really care.” He said lazily.

One by one, the brothers scatter, thinking of ways to make it up to Yuki. Perhaps jewels will atone for whatever made her so angry? A beautiful bouquet of flowers, red roses from Lord Diavolo’s garden to be precise? Maybe the cream puffs from Madam Screams? Oh! What about a spa date? Maybe a new plushie? What about the newly released book from her favorite human author?

You sat on one of the many sofas in Purgatory Hall, clutching your stomach as you laughed at a recount of one of Simeon’s most embarrassing mistakes he’s made. “And he sent that picture to Michael! Can you believe that (MC)?!” Luke exclaimed, positively overjoyed with the way he’s managed to bring your smile back to its full force. Simeon sat beside him, hands covering his face in shame as Solomon rubbed his back, “It was an accident but when I went to apologize to Michael, he had already sent the picture to all the different chats he’s had! And the worst of it is that he did that by accident too!” Simeon says, voice muffled by his hands. You burst out laughing even harder than before.

Seems like technology is a mystery to the older angels.

A knock on the heavy wooden door echoed through the room, the laughter slowly, but comfortably, dying down. “I’ll get it. Excuse me for a moment, everyone!” Solomon says quickly, getting up to talk to whoever stood on the other side of the door.

When Solomon leaves, he hears Luke continue the story and you burst out into a fit of giggles once more. He smiled to himself as he walked over to the main entrance of Purgatory Hall, “Just a second.” He called out, starting to unlock all the different locks Luke had asked him and Simeon to install. During his first few weeks in the Devildom, poor Luke was terrified of demons breaking into the house to hurt them so they decided that padlock and giant chains work best in preventing that from ever happening.

It was an absolute headache most days as it took 10 minutes to unlock every single one.

“Ah, there we go.” Solomon had managed to open the door in record time, only taking 8 minutes rather than the usual 10, “Hello what business might you have at Pur- Oh. Well, Good evening, Barbatos.Diavolo.” He greets the ever composed butler, who bows in return, and the normally enthusiastic Demon Prince. He was used to seeing soft smiles and gentle gazes from these two but he was terrified at that moment (although he’d never tell). Diavolo and Barbatos were both serious, eyes hard as they stood at the door.

“I was supposed to come alone to deliver a message to Miss (MC) alone but it seems that the Young Lord wanted to deliver the message himself.” Barbatos states, “May we come in?”

You rubbed away the tears rolling down your cheeks as you practically mocked Simeon with Luke. You hear someone cough from behind you and as you turn, you smile brightly at Diavolo and Barbatos.

“What a pleasant surprise! Good evening Lord Diavolo, good evening Barbatos!” The pair visibly relax as they take note of your energy. Good. It may seem that being away from the brothers did you a lot of good. Barbatos has been observing you since he was made aware of your situation in the House of Lamentation. He saw you earlier that day looking so tired and stressed, and now seeing you laugh so joyfully with Luke gave him some sense of hope that you’d be okay with what they were about to announce.

“Good evening to my favorite exchange student, how’ve you been?” Diavolo practically ran over to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug on the couch. You let out a surprised squeal, laughing slightly as you squeezed him back as hard as you could.

The man barely feels it in all honesty.

“My, I thought you said you didn’t have favorites, Lord Diavolo.” Simeon jokes, a teasing smile delicately painting his lips. Diavolo shoots him a boyish grin of his own, “Well, it’d be hard to say that when I’m holding my absolute favorite right now.” He quips back. You pull away, much to Diavolo’s dismay. He clears his throat before turning to face you, back straight and any semblance of amusement left his features as he got serious,” I didn’t come here to just joke around. It has been brought to my attention that you haven’t been treated with respect in the HoL. is that correct, (MC)?” He asked softly.

Your smile is gone in an instant. Your eyes grow somber as you stare down at your hands in your lap, “I-It’s alright. I understand why they’re doing it.” You say, “At least, Lucifer made it perfectly clear to me last night…” you add in a whisper, barely audible. Diavolo sighs, taking your hands in his, “I hope you can accept my formal apologies as the organizer of this exchange program of the horrible treatment you’re facing. I hope you can also accept my apologies as your Lord here in the Devildom, for allowing such behavior to taint the image of RAD because the student council has been acting so crassly. And… As your friend, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me because I wasn't able to help you sooner.” His voice grew soft with each passing sentence, his eyes finding yours and you could see the regret swimming in his eyes.

You hadn’t seen a pair of guilty eyes in a long while.

You smile warmly at him, giving his hands a gentle squeeze as you stare at the expensive cloth that his suit was made of, “That means a lot to me, Dia. It really does. I… I’ve been feeling under the weather for a few months now and seeing you all show me that you care for me just means the world,” you trail off, eyes glazing at everyone else that was present in the room.

“Thank you for loving me.”

Diavolo smiled at you, “Thank you for letting us get to know you, (MC). With that being said, I’ve come to offer you a solution for your problems…”

“Would you like to move to Purgatory Hall indefinitely?”

#obey me x mc #obey me #obey me replaced mc au #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me angst #obey me shall we date

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evolution-went-backwards-with-us · 4 years ago

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“I didn’t expect a good ending, all I wanted was a ending. “ ~Leon Kuwata x Reader~ !Angst!

Hello everyone, Mod Taka here. I promise I’m still alive, I just don’t have a lot of time to write. But anywho, here something that made me cry while I was writing it.

-Trigger Warnings- Cursing, Degradation, Suicidal thoughts, Death, Daddy issues, Parental Abuse (father), Loss of Father, PTSD, Alcoholism, Domestic Abuse, Violence, Described Blood, Flashbacks, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Fatal Car Crash, Implied absent mother

Leon faced up against his father, a red glow in his eyes. Letting anger out during baseball just hadn’t been enough lately, and he had gotten into a fight with another kid today. Look where he ended himself up at, in the burning gaze of the man who makes his life a living hell. He was just like Leon at his age, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Leon hated what he had become, but he wasn’t left with much of a choice. Leon barely flinched when his father’s clenched fist met his face, much to used to the pain of it all. However, this time Leon fought back at him, bitch slapping him across the face. He could see the new found rage swelling up in his dad’s expression, and it didn’t take long for it to come bursting through.

He cursed himself as he felt his shirt collar being lifted up off the ground, taking him with it. Before he had time to react, a hand was wrapped around his throat. His head started to spin as the grip became harsher, clawing his nails at his fathers hands. Screaming silent cries for help that came out as short, ragged breaths. He felt himself slowly losing consciousness, as his esophagus started to collapse. Like his father could see the exact moment before it was too late, his hand was withdrawn. As soon as he was let go, he fell to the ground, his knees roughly hitting the ground. Gasping for air, he looked up at him. “How fucking dare you hit me! I fucking raised you and this is how you repay me?! You should respect me, this is exactly why Marisa left! It was all your fault, it always has been.” His father said with a harsh tone, the scent of the alcohol lacing his words with an even worse poison. He roughly grabbed Leon’s jaw, pulling him eye to eye, ”You were a fucking mistake.” Leon hit the ground as he was once again let go of, but the next time he looked up, his father was gone.

A tightening of his throat and a short intake of breathe broke his façade. The all-to-familiar grief engulfed him as he was taking on another heartbreak. Gut-wrenching sobs tore through his chest as he covered his face with his hands. He felt the sudden urge to collapse in and on himself, as the human sounds of suffering escaped his lips. Oh, what the situation he had gotten himself into now. Laying on his living room floor, his dad no where to be seen, crying. He rocked himself as his hands wiped the tears away from his eyes every few seconds, causing them to get red and swollen. The thoughts started to worsen as time passed, still alone with his own mind as his own little form of torture.

“Is it really are worth it?” he asked himself, fighting back against his own thoughts but all efforts ending in vain.

“It would be easier of you were dead.”

“The days would be brighter without you in them.”

“Is suffering this much worth the beauty of living?”

“Maybe your dad is right about what he says.”

“Everyone and his life would be better without you.”

“Maybe- no. He is right.”

Leon got up on shaky legs, the exhalation of his emotions still clouding his vision. He collapsed onto his bed, the thoughts of things he didn’t want to think about finally being drowned out by nothingness. He passed out moments later, letting the numb feeling consume him.

Luckily, it was a Saturday and he didn’t have to go to school. He groggily got up from his bed, finally getting his shit together. He walked through the house, scared but also relieved at his father’s absence. The high pitched ringing pf his phone blared through his ears, and he picked it up and answered it. “Hello?”

“Is this Leon Kuwata?”

“Yes...?”

“Your father got into a accident last night, we need you to come to the scene.

~Time skip brought to you by Hina’s doughnut addiction~

He got there in enough time to see his father’s bleeding body being pulled from his car. He opened and got out of the car so fast he tripped on the door itself. Getting to the car, the seen the trail of crimson along the dash and splattered along the seats. There were empty beer bottles scattered periodically in the floorboards. Oh. He turned his attention back to his father, who was now being put into the ambulance. He hopped into it, starting to feel the grief swelling up in his chest. He sat next to his father, taking in the sight of him. Blood was staining his plaid shirt, and there was dried blood along his head and neck. But he was still alive.

That was until they got to the hospital, and Leon got the pleasure of hearing the monitor bleep to signify the flatlining of his dad’s heart. He watched the life drain out of his eyes as doctors poured into the room. Leon was pushed out , and left staring at them through the door window as his dad was attempting to be brought back to life. After moments of terror, it only got worse. Every second added to the heart break as the doctors pronounced him dead. Leon fell on a chair, tears leaking from his eyes. He hated him, but he didn’t want him to be dead. And now, there was nothing he could do about it.

“y/n, if I ever had a moment I wished for death the most, I would be that one.” Leon turned to you and said, “All of my life I have wondered how much pain you would have to go through until you are allowed to give up.” He placed his hand on top of yours and laid back in your chest. “I still have nightmares of that crash. I still have flashbacks of him, but nothing prepares you for the pain that comes when it is lived through. I have learnt that the hard way. I didn’t expect a good ending, all I wanted was a ending. But I no longer want that now, I want the moments I spend with you to last forever.” He looked up and spoke, “So please, never give up.”

#daganrompa #daganronpa 1 #trigger happy havoc x reader #dr trigger happy havoc #leon kuwata #leon kuwata x reader #Mod Taka #danganronpa angst #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc

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fellowstrangetownappreciator · 4 years ago

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La Fiesta Tech and other unfortunate decisions 1: Greek House powered by hatred (Tank and Johnny)

After my last post about my general play style for university in TS2, here I come with something more specific! (aka a blog that promised to be about gameplay is finally posting gameplay)

I ran 35 Sims through college at once - the 8 Strangetown and Pleasantview teens, La Fiesta Tech premades, plus student bin families from the other two universities. In this post I’ll focus on one of the households, what their general experience was and what are my headcanons about it.

Now, I don’t have the save file anymore. The neighborhood succumbed to corruption just a rotation after, so I restarted. It was a learning experience and now I know to run HoodChecker after every rotation and to batbox gossip memories frequently. However, I’m over it and enjoying my new hood even more, I just thought I write a short disclaimer that these bits won’t have any mentions in future posts. But my interpretation of the characters still stands and doesn’t change regardless of save files.

Anyway, let’s get down to business!

...to defeat Academic Probation.

When Johnny Smith signed up for an assignment to establish and lead a Greek House of his own, he was overjoyed. Even more so when he saw the name "Grunt" as his assigned partner.

Founding a Greek House with Ripp? AWESOME!

But... the Grunt in question wasn't Ripp...

No. It was the a**hole Grunt. They’ve already been living in one dorm (with like 14 other people) and the place was a battleground.

To be fair, Johnny and Tank didn't just fight and nothing else. Yes, fighting was like 90 % of how they usually spent their time together but there was something else...

Chess.

In this particular game Johnny had become surprisingly fond of chess and frequently rolled the want to play it.

Chess has always been Tank's favorite game.

They played quite often and it was one of the rare times they were having fun together and actually talked instead of yelling.

But are a few games of chess enough to earn one forgiveness for a teenhood of nastiness and abuse?

In Johnny's eyes rightfully not.

He had to admit the a**hole is quite chill when he's not being a total d*ckhead but that didn't change anything about the fact that Tank had been terrible to him for no good reason ever since forever and he hated him for that.

Those feelings... weren't completely mutual.

College was Tank's awakening. He found himself away from his father, away from prying eyes that would judge him for not being perfect and for the first time in his life, he felt quite free.

And empty. And alone. He realized he had no friends and that the only person who truly liked him was his father and he would most probably stop if he ever learned of Tank's inner world.

He decided it was a high time for a change.

But habits aren't easy to break, especially if they're the only thing you know. Tank had never learnt to relax around people, never learnt to talk to them just to get to know them, never learnt to express himself, never learnt how to make friends.

Why, he had never needed to! They would have been a weakness, an unmanly stain of lollygagging on his consciousness. He was taught that friendships form themselves on the battlefield and it's a waste of time to try to create them otherwise.

It was quite awkward when he started approaching Ripp in attempts to mend their relationship. Tank has hurt Ripp in the past, he actually treated them quite horribly, fueling his own confidence from being the older, bigger, stronger one and from their father approving of such behavior.

Their father has never said it out loud but it has always been simply there that Tank was the superior one. More obedient, stronger, faster, more masculine. Smarter, even! How could Ripp with an attitude like theirs, with their lousy academic results even compare to by-the-book and hardworking Tank?

Yet it was Ripp who was seemingly happier, like they didn't even care about father's disapproval or the pressure of being the offspring of a venerated general. Tank realized he admired them for that. They did things Tank wouldn't even dream of. They didn't hide who they were.

Forgiveness... forgiveness isn't easy to attain. But Tank was determined to try anyway. At the very least he would stop causing any more harm to his sibling in the future.

It wasn't that straightforward with his new alien roommate, though.

Johnny was special. First he despised him because his father taught him they were inherently dangerous and invasive, they needed to be driven away. But that got quickly buried under memories of aggression and hostile experiences. It was by all means Tank who started it and Johnny was only fighting back but that didn't matter deep in Tank's head, his brain had connected Johnny to unpleasant, awful things regardless.

But he was also the most... attractive person Tank knew. Tank couldn't help himself. He wished Johnny Smith wasn't an alien, so they could've been friends right from the start. He was athletic, even more than Tank, was interested in the same sports as him and was damn good at them, he has always had good grades without seemingly having to study that much, and all around, he would make such a worthy friend!

Friend. Was that something Tank sincerely had on mind when he fantasized about Johnny? (And did he do that a lot!) No. Not at all.

Ripp has long been out, proud and loud about their orientation, not denying they liked boys and girls and anything in between and beyond, and the general was giving them dirty looks and deprecating remarks for it. He wasn't outright punishing them, mainly because he expected nothing more from Ripp and knew his middle child was simply "a weirdo" but Tank was sure his reception would be even worse if he came out.

He was supposed to be the good son, after all. The heir. He was not supposed to think or do or, by the Watcher, be something his father considers perverted and unmanly. He could only imagine the horrible things the general could say to him and the thought alone was enough to make him shudder.

Once again Tank simply didn't understand Ripp. They liked girls, so the world didn't even had to know that it's not all there is to it. They could've just find themselves a girlfriend and not face any judging generals. That's what Tank would do!

But he couldn't. He wasn't like Ripp. He only ever felt attracted to other men and male-presenting people. There was nothing he could do, no way he could force himself to be any other way.

And nobody knew. Not even that girl from their high school that Tank asked to prom so that he didn't look weird. They were on amicable terms but they weren't even friends, they just helped each other out so they didn't seem like outcasts to the whole school on the prom night.

He remembered his father being elated and encouraging him to invite his "girlfriend" for a dinner soon, so he could meet the fine young lady that might just one day become his daughter-in-law.

Tank had to tell him that it unfortunately "didn't work out" and that he "needs to focus on his studies and training anyway" and the general then praised him for it.

Little did he know that his favorite son, even back then, was not only gay but had a hopeless crush on an alien boy.

Every time Tank tried to interact with Johnny and be nice to him, he got reminded of his feelings he was so ashamed of and of his fear of his father disavowing him, so he said something mean instead or didn't talk to him at all.

The only exception was chess.

Sometimes, when a game neared its end, they spoke. And they talked... casually. It was awkward and cautious but it was a conversation and it felt... good.

Playing chess with Johnny became Tank's guilty pleasure. (even worse than watching make-up tutorials on SimTube!)

Being forced by the assignment to live together for six semesters was equal parts a living hell and a dream come true.

They had a small house on La Fiesta Tech premises that they were to transform into a lively Greek House.

"This place looks like shit and smells like a prison cell. Or vice-versa?"

"You got everything you have for free, Smith. Stop bitching."

Johnny sighed and opened up a book. "Says someone whose loaded dad literally sent him money for this house."

"I thought your family was also well off. Is that incorrect?"

"We have a financial situation called None of your business, Grunt."

"Sorry for asking like a normal person."

"Nothing you do is 'like a normal person'."

...

"I quit! You're unhinged, Smith!"

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I found a knife under your pillow!"

"You found -what? Why the f*ck were you looking under my pillow?!"

"I was just changing the sheets. I did mine, so I thought I'll do yours, too!"

"Why the f*ck would you change the sheets on MY flipping bed?"

"Because you are a disgusting manchild and it stank."

"I was gonna change them tonight! And, guess what!"

"What?"

"YOU also have a knife under your pillow!"

"I don't!"

"Yes, you do, liar."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw you put it there yesterday, you galaxy brain. The question is, why the hell do you have a f*cking knife under your pillow?"

"Why do you, Smith?"

"Because I live with your ass. I sleep better knowing you can't just murder me in my sleep. Now you tell."

"Same. I've slept with a knife under my pillow ever since grade school in case a robber got to our house. I won't stop now that I live with YOU!"

"..."

"I won't kill you. I'm not a freak! Killing is wrong, even if it's parasites such as you. And, besides, I'm not stupid. If you turned up dead, I'll would be charged immediately, even if I didn't do it."

"So why do heck do you think I would kill you, Grunt?"

"I... don't know."

"Anyway, were you for real? Are you quitting? We fail this assignment but I'm chill with that if it means getting rid of you."

"No, no! I'm not going anywhere until we pass. I'm not a quitter! But if you want to quit, I'll respect that and be glad this circus is finally over."

"Fine. Are we getting pizza for dinner tonight?"

...

“I invited my family for a lunch...”

“Alright. I’ll be in the library. Or the gym. Haven’t decided yet.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I want you to be here, Grunt.”

“Why? So you can all make fun of me?”

“Stop being so defensive. I want you to be here, so you can just chill with us. And my folks are gonna know you’re actually... okay.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“And if you hang out with mom, dad and Jill, you’re gonna know they’re okay, too.”

“That’s not how this works. I can’t just act like we’re friends now and everything’s peachy.”

“Well, who said that? Maybe that’s exactly how it works. You never know until you try!”

“If anything goes wrong-”

“Nothing’s gonna go wrong. It’s not that deep. We’re been living together for nearly three f*cking years and had a sh*tton of time to talk. In fact, I already told them you’re my friend now.”

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t use the F-word!”

Johnny laughed. “What? F*cking? F*ck? C’mon! Your dad can’t hear us!”

“No, the other one. The FR-word.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and grinned. “Go friend yourself!”

“Okay, I’ll stay for the lunch. I’ll go get my tuxedo...”

“Please don’t.”

Reaching a truce was a painfully slow and slowly painful process. Sometimes Johnny wondered if there’s even a point. Sometimes Tank wondered if it wouldn’t be better just to focus fully on his studies and forget that Johnny existed.

But they had to live together, they had to work together organizing parties and happenings in order to grow the Greek House. They had to speak. And when the exams drew nearer, the only person who was available for evening study sessions was usually the other.

What did they study anyway?

Tank rolled the want to major in Drama while Johnny studied Political Science. Tank has never told his father the truth of what his field of study is and knowing his father has access to the university's statistics and probably could fact check that in Tank's house there lives a Drama major and a PolSci major, he pretended he's doing Political Science and Johnny is the one majoring in Drama.

When the general came for a visit to attend Tank's graduation, Johnny played along with his lie.

The relationship between Tank and Johnny improved drastically over the three years. They still weren't exactly close friends but were healing with a prospect of a friendship further along the way.

Were they romantic with one another?

No. Johnny reciprocated Tank's attraction and maybe something could happen in the future but Johnny fell in love autonomously with somebody else.

With a different Grunt, to be exact.

(typing angrily)

Anyway, even though Tank's crush on Johnny ended up futile, it was still a great experience for him.

In college, Tank Grunt really flourished, despite the initial struggle. He realized a lot about himself and started working on his social skills and repairing his relationships.

He also found a friend in none other than Ophelia Nigmos and she became the first person he ever came out to.

Plus, he was the most academically successful Sim of the whole 35 students I played, being the only one who graduated with a flawless 4.0 GPA.

Unlike Ripp, Tank returned back to live with their father and Buck for the time being. He was expected to enter the army and needed a place to be. Moreover, the general was vocal about choosing him as the heir who inherits the Grunt house someday, so it was simply right for Tank to go back and live there.

Was it? Wasn’t it?

Tank was definitely having second thoughts.

He didn’t wonder anymore if military was the right career path for him. He knew it wasn’t.

But was he ready to let the world know who he really was?

#the sims 2 #ts2 #gameplay #la fiesta tech #tank grunt #johnny smith #premades #simbrl

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chaoticspacefam · 4 years ago

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OC Music Meme

I was tagged by @raven-of-domain-kwaad , thank you! :D I shall tag (no pressure as always, only if you want to!): @mercurypilgrim , @mimabeann, @rainofaugustsith , @thelastenvoyyy , @a-master-procrastinator and anyone else who wants to do this one, yes, I promise I mean you!

Yaaay another music meme, I LOVE these, as any of my long-term followers/mutuals probably know :P Oh no, Raven what have you done! 🤣🤣

List one or more songs that relate to the following

*drags Rai and her three consecutive playlists full of songs in here and plops her down proudly* Now I’m not joking when I say combined her three playlists would run for ~10 hrs if I played them all back-to-back. Sooooo for that reason I will be trying to restrict myself to 3-4 songs per “question”, except for the last one which is annotated with an explanation there, ANYWAYS!

reminds you of them most:

Down To The Bottom - Dorothy :: This is a very new one to her playlist (discovered a few days ago), but it still vibes so well with Saarai’s attitude to love, and her need to have some sort of emotional closeness to other people, to love and be loved, or else she just doesn’t function quite right

Up The Wolves - The Mountain Goats :: This was one of Rai’s first EVER theme songs that made it onto her list as I gave the Ahaszaai the backstory that led to them becoming main characters, so it feels only right that I include it here. To me it perfectly sums up her character progression, from a frightened young woman with a lot of skeletons in her closet and no willingness to be a commander of anything or confidence that she could, to a strong and dedicated leader willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people she works with, and make sure that the person who once took it from her family will suffer the righteous justice he deserves for his actions. Oddly enough, Saarai never goes back to take over the Sith Empire as D’leah planned (in Subterfugeverse anyways), they do eventually “come home” and build something of their own with the other members of the Alliance <3

Bruno Is Orange - Hop Along :: This song is very important too. It makes me feel a lot of things and as I developed more of Saarai’s backstory and began tying everything together, it became an essential part of her backstory. This is 100% a “Saarai Song” in my brain (and I’ve had the script for that meme planned out for over a year, I’ll get to it soon :3), summing up the chaos and her own feelings on what happened with Tsâhis (and her mother and sister’s reactions to finding out about what happened, and Ty, the baby which resulted from that clusterfuck of a relationship)

Someone New - Hozier :: Kinda supplements “Down To The Bottom”, Saarai was a character who puzzled me sexuality-wise for a long time, she has a lot to unpack and a lot of nuances in her attractions, and for a long time (because it is the default for modern media) I tried to shove her in the monogamy box, except...that doesn’t work for Saarai LMAO. I remembered this song existed one day (I think it came up on Youtube shuffle or something) and it was the lightbulb that went on in my head that finally clicked and told me she was actually polyam as well (though ironically I forgot to actually put it in her playlist until @darth-bagel reminded me it existed again a few months ago LOL).

reminds another character of them:

All The Pretty Girls - KALEO :: (Sash - Zephyrverse AU) This one had a few options too, but I think this is the best song that Sash would associate with Saarai. Their relationship was slow burn, although there was near-immediate attraction there, Sash struggled with self-doubt and her own insecurities for a long time, firmly believing that Saarai would get bored of waiting for her to be “ready” to take things further and explore other options (she didn’t. They’ve been married something like 20+, nearing 30 years now, you’re stuck with her sweetie <3)

The Last of the Real Ones - Fall Out Boy :: (Lana - Subterfugeverse) “I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do.” Lana wasn’t looking for Saarai when she found her, but Lana wouldn’t have it any other way. Though Lana is a big pillar of support for Saarai, and Saarai in turn is the social “glue” that holds the Alliance together, what many people don’t realise is that the feeling is mutual and Lana relies upon her just as much. Saarai’s dependable, and trustworthy, even if sometimes she makes Lana want to roll her eyes into the ceiling because of her antics, she wouldn’t want to change her for anything, it’s that part of Saarai that she secretly loves the most because it reminds Lana that it’s okay to unwind and have fun or be silly every once in a while, especially with the people you love.

Shut Up And Dance - WALK THE MOON :: (Koth - Subterfugeverse) Koth’s relationship with Saarai took a lot longer to develop into something openly romantic because Saarai had a lot of stuff to work through before she could accept her own feelings for him, but the cantina party at the end of KOTFE was the moment that Koth realised she was comfortable with him, because it’s the first time she really opened up to him, the first time she asked him to do anything together, and the first time she didn’t flinch or jump away from him when he touched her.

reminds you of a relationship of theirs, doesn’t have to be romantic, can be paternal, friendly etc.: I’m taking that as an invitiation to do a song for each of the main ones of any kind and that means this one has like six songs because...Saarai has a lot of influencial relationships in her character arc, I’m sorry (but not really) :’)

Broken Crown - Mumford & Sons :: Saarai & D’leah (Familial, It’s Complicated). This one is probably gonna be the “controversial” song of this post but you know what I’m gonna do it anyway. Saarai and D’leah have a very complicated relationship, because on the one hand Saarai does love her mother very much in spite of the horrible things she said and did, and on the other...the last thing that she wants is to turn out like her. And sometimes, sometimes you gotta call your mom out on her toxic shit. Hey Brother - Aviici :: Saarai & Ni’kasi (Familial Love). “What if I lose it all? Oh sister, I will help you out. Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you...there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.” The “brother” part does not apply to the twins, gender-wise, but the essence of this song is undoubtedly Saarai & Ni’kasi’s relationship. When Saarai thought she had no-one else, Ni’kasi was there to pick up the pieces and get her back onto her feet. They’re ride or die till the very end, wherever Saarai leads, she knows Ni’kasi will follow her.

Son of A Gun - Lord Huron :: Saarai & Tsâhis (Romantic ”Love”, though I’mma be very clear here that he was a manipulative abusive asshole, but Saarai loved him so...quotation marks. Y’get it yeah? Good.) “Well she fell in love with that son of a gun, but he was not the man that she took him for.” This line in particular sums it up. Saarai was young, naive and a perfect target for someone like Tsâhis to take advantage of because she didn’t know any better and believed him when he said he “loved her”, only for him to pull the rug out from under her feet later on. (he got his tho, don’t worry 😈)

Youth - Glass Animals :: Saarai & Tyûk (Maternal Love). This is the closest I can find to a song that sums up their relationship, I have a lot of thoughts about it but there are very few songs (that I’ve found) that touch upon the essence of Saarai & Ty’s relationship. D’leah chose to blame Ty for his father’s actions, Saarai chose the opposite. She chose to love him in spite of what his father had done to her, and to make sure he grew up feeling safe, loved, and learnt to be better than that.

Curses - The Crane Wives :: Saarai/Sash (Romantic Love) Both Saarai and Sash have had difficult pasts, with a lot of emotional trauma, and they both had hurdles they had to overcome in order for their relationship to truly work and stay healthy. But with each others’ support, they’ve managed it and are all the closer for it. If you asked either of them where “home” was, they’d say the other’s name.

Sorry I Stole Your Girlfriend - Stereo Skyline :: Saarai/Lana/Koth (Romantic Love). Okay, I really really wanted to pick a more serious song from their playlist for them, BUT....this song is the song that started this ship in my brain so here we are. LMAO Originally, this popped into my brain as an idea of Saarai’s response to Koth’s attempt at getting between them in that scene of KOTFE on the Gravestone. Koth and Saarai’s moral compasses are very similar and I wanted them to sit down and have a proper, healthy discussion about their feelings instead of becoming enemies and sort of agreeing not to hold a grudge against each other, though I didn’t expect for that piece to get away from me and for Saarai to end up developing feelings for Koth too, I can’t say I’m unhappy with it. I love them and I will fight anyone who tells me I can’t make them an OT3, I can, I will, and I have. >:) (Healthy Polyam Good, Love Triangles Are Fucking Stupid (tm). No I am not taking criticism on this lmao) Though Saarai & Koth’s relationship isn’t sexual in any way, they love each other just as much as they love Lana, just express it differently. So even though the snideness of this song doesn’t really apply to them, I kept it in their playlist and it also became their ship name because it was too good to pass up, though “Stole” is in inverted commas as it’s definitely more of an inside joke between the three of them than actually seriously accusing them of stealing each others’ girlfriend. 🤣 (as always, Saarai & Koth thinks it’s hilarious, Lana rolls her eyes at the stupid pun but also secretly thinks it’s funny as hell)

#swtor #star wars: the old republic #swtor OCs #tagged meme #OC music meme #swtor oc: saarai ahaszaai #sith pureblood #the outlander #LS! eternal empress #subterfugeverse #ot3: sorry i ''stole'' your girlfriend #saarai/lana/koth #saarai x tsâhis #zephyrverse au #saarai/sash #the ahaszaai twins #the sith twins #yes i have written down a lot of stuff regarding the ot3's relationship and how it developed etc #one day i will throw them out into the world when i feel like they're ready #but they're not ready yet so sorry y'all you gotta wait #but trust me when i say this is very elaborately planned out #LMAO #[banging pots and pans] they're. poly. and. in. love. fucking. deal. with. it. or. leave #my ships my rules #complicated mother daughter relationships are complicated #projection? i don't know her #no sir #tw: manipulation #tw: abusive relationship

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sti1es · 4 years ago

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Killing Stalking.... but make it steo. I read this manga in early 2017 and since its becoming popular again, i had the inspiration to write this. I don’t agree with a lot of the gross, disturbing stuff in the story - it’s a horror, not a romance, and i definitely don’t ship sangwoo and yoon. that’s why i changed a lot of the details in this fic, but the relationship in later chapters is going to get very, very, unhealthy. The abusive, toxic behaviours portrayed here should NEVER be considered okay in real life. SO MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR THAT!

•

Stiles watches silently as Theo’s truck leaves the driveway. He emerges from his hiding place - a corner of the garden, cast in shadow by looming trees - and checks the time. Based on Theo’s usual routine, he should be gone for at least a couple hours. That gives Stiles abundant time to inspect the house. If the other boy is keeping anything secret, a thorough search should make it evident. Something about knowing Theo’s habits weirds Stiles out a little. He’s becoming quite the stalker. His intentions are good, though, and the police do it all the time, so he concludes that this is normal and not a result of incessant paranoia.

Casually, Stiles treads through neatly trimmed grass and stands in front of the door. It’s a decently sized home, the suburban dream for any nuclear family. Everything, down to the wooden planks of the porch and popcorn textured walls, is perfect - which is exactly why Stiles doesn’t trust it. Theo arrived like a miracle. A clever, charming, strong werewolf; the ideal pack mate. He’s buried his past deep underground, and Stiles is determined to uproot it.

He punches the security code into an electronic lock. 270804. At first, these were just meaningless numbers Stiles caught a glimpse of Theo entering, but after looking through medical records, researching family history, and overall obsessively indulging himself into this case, Stiles realised what it was. The date of Tara Raeken’s death.

Pushing aside whatever embarrassment would ensue if he were wrong about Theo, as well as the general fear of being caught, Stiles turns the door handle experimentally. The keypad chimes, a melodic buzz which enables Stiles to finally fucking breathe. He shoves the door open completely, a newfound rush of adrenaline and excitement clouding his mind, before entering the house.

It’s... normal. The entrance is decorated with antique furniature and various knickknacks. Picture frames line the walls, some depicting Theo and Tara, but none his whole family. The ones containing his parents look newer. Their smiles look strained, and Stiles could’ve sworn Ms. Raeken didn’t have dimples before. Him and Theo used to hang out after school a lot, and Ms. Raeken would always come pick her son up. The photos of her that adorn this interior just seem... different. Off. Before Stiles has the chance to contemplate any further, he’s distracted by a noise coming from downstairs. At the end of the hall, there’s a door - presumably leading to the basement - which has been left slightly ajar. A strange, muffled slapping sound travels through it.

Stiles’s heart beat spikes. He knew something was off about Theo, but to be presented something so obviously suspicious seems... well, suspicious. He quickly crosses the corridor and flicks on the light at the end of it. The basement is illuminated, which causes the slapping to increase. His stomach turns at the idea of something sentinent and scared being down there. Whatever shit Theo is hiding may be a lot more disturbing than he prepared for.

Swallowing nervously, Stiles decends the staircase and his worst fears are immediately confirmed. A girl lies on the cold floor, naked and tied up. Her wrists and ankles are bound, and a gag has been painfully jammed into her mouth. The source of the slapping was her legs beating against the concrete, most likely a frantic signal for a potential rescuer’s attention.

This has to be a joke. There’s no way Theo is this fucking sick. To kidnap someone is one thing, but to humilate them and leave them in this scared state was a level of cruelty Stiles finds difficult to imagine. He races downwards, and instantly recognises the terrified captive’s face. This is Tracy Stewart. Her photos have been plastered all over the news ever since she went missing a couple weeks ago. Stiles feels his gut twist in horror and disgust. There’s no goddamn way this is happening. It’s ironic, really, the fact that he was expecting to find something incriminating but can hardly believe it when he does.

Tracy’s struggles become even more desperate at this glimpse of salvation. Her eyes widen, and she starts shouting through the gag.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry... I-I’m gonna get you out of here. You’re safe,” Stiles begins to undo the ropes which restrain her hands, but the knot won’t give. Why the hell did Theo have to be so cautious? The thought of what he’s done to poor Tracy so far turns Stiles’s attempts to free her even more rapid. He picks at the rope with his nails, a fruitless attempt, really. As his frustration rises, he resorts to picking Tracy up in the state she’s in. He’d much rather get the hell out of here as fast as possible. Stiles places his hand under her knees, and goes to wrap his arm around her shoulders, when she starts to violently trash. He drops her instantly, worried that he provoked one of her potential injuries. But the thrashing continues, and she’s screaming around the cloth in her mouth. Stiles’s heart sinks as he realises her eyes aren’t focused on him.

They’re fixed behind his head.

He jerks around wildly, and sure enough, standing in the doorway is Theo Raeken. His eyes are narrowed in annoyance and his lips are quirked in a dark smirk. Fuck. Stiles feels like a caged animal, cornered by a predator that could easily overpower him.

“You’re smart, Stiles,” He chuckles, like this is all a twisted game. To Theo, it probably is. “You just aren’t smarter than me”.

Shit. Stiles’s mind is moving at a mile a minute, trying to think of any possible escape. There isn’t one. But he’s been through worse than a teenage werewolf. He can get through this. He has to.

Still, his heart is gripped by fear. He feels like there’s fingers at his neck, squeezing, constricting his oxygen until he’s gasping for breath. Breathe. Breathe. He stands no chance against Theo if he has a panic attack.

Then again, does he stand a chance in the first place?

Theo dawdles down the stairs, slowly dropping his feet in front of him, one step after another. Stiles’s lungs are on fire. His ribs are being crushed. Breathe. Breathe. You can trick him. Run past him. Just get a fucking grip.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice-” Theo’s barely ten feet away, “That you’ve been following me?” He laughs humourlessly once again. “It’s funny how I considered stalking you, but you took it upon yourself to waltz right into the lion’s den with no help.”

Stiles barely register’s Theo’s words as the human lunges forward, past his legs. Caught off guard, Theo doesn’t have time to grab him as he practically scrambles up the stairs. But of-fucking-course Stiles has to look back, and when his eyes meet Tracy’s, he freezes to the spot. He can’t just leave her here.

That gives Theo’s reflexes ample time to set in. He makes a grab for Stiles’s hoodie sleeve and shoves him backwards. The brunet would’ve been grappling at the air if he had time to. Instead, he simply falls all the way down the stairs, back to the basement floor. Instead of everything occurring in the typical slow-mo montage they show in cliche movies, the moment passed so fast Stiles couldn’t even register it. One second he was almost free, the next he was lying on hard, cold stone, his head and legs throbbing. The human supposes he broke his legs. They’re mostly numb, but twisted grotesquely. He’s never been so thankful about nerve damage in his life. The real issue is his slowly blurring vision. He wants to throw up - from fear or pain, he doesn’t know.

“You’re the sheriff’s son,” Theo drawls, stupidly calm for a situation where Stiles feels as though he’s being drowned in anxiety. “So you surely understand why I can’t have any witnesses.”

“Why are you doing this?” He blurts out. “You’re killing her, and you’re gonna kill me too? At least have some sort of motive, serial murderers who ‘do it for the thrill’ are becoming pretty old.”

If there’s one thing Stiles learnt during his years of engtanglement with supernatural enemies, it’s that distraction buys you time. No matter how scared you are, a simple quip or provoking remark works wonders for stalling. All he has to do is snark Theo until the werewolf gets bored, or agitated, or anything else that buys him a bit of time. Stiles’s heart jumps against his ribcage as he glares at Theo as heatedly as possible, trying to conceal his trembling hands.

“You think I don’t have any motives?” Theo scoffs, clearly falling for Stiles’s blow to his ego. “Her father is a pretty powerful man. A lawyer who tried to get me thrown in fucking prison. This is his payback,” The werewolf shrugs, but Stiles doesn’t miss the edge of anger in his voice. He strides forward, then curls a hand around Stiles’s chin. The teen’s head is jerked upwards, so he’s forced to stare into cold, evil blue eyes. “And you’re going to rat me out to your daddy. Simple as that. There isn’t enough space in this basement for both of you.”

“So you’re a butthurt little boy who has to take his emotions out on defenesless humans?” Stiles grits out, and Theo’s grip on his chin tightens, “- real classy.”

That’s when Theo snaps. He backhands him across the faсe.

Stiles attempts to crawl away, his cheek stinging with what’s probably a fresh bruise. He pushes up against the ground, only to find that his knees buckle when he stands. So he was right about the broken legs. Normally, falling down the stairs wouldn’t injure someone this badly, but with the forceful thrust of a werewolf’s supernatural strength? Stiles doesn’t doubt it. Though his limbs are far too damaged to hurt, the mere pressure being put onto his bones makes him feel like he’s folding in on himself.

Stiles is helpless. He might as well be restrained like Tracy, it wouldn’t make a difference. Theo sighs in a way that conveys amusement, as though he’s watching a newborn deer struggle to walk. I’m gonna die.

What will his dad think when he doesn’t return home? What will his friends think? Scott, Malia, Lydia - Stiles will never see them again. His chest aches with the thought of Theo carrying through with whatever plans he has for the pack. All he can do is hope that his disappearance makes them suspicious enough not to trust the werewolf.

Theo hovers over him, face darkened by shadows in a threatening contrast against the blaring ceiling lights above. He crouches down, pressing his knees deliberately against Stiles’s legs in a way that makes the human cry out. He catches a glimpse of Tracy: she has tears running down her face, but looks somewhat resigned... as if Stiles is already dead. Theo clutches the brunet’s wrists and pins them to either side of his head. “If you’re planning on killing me, better do it quick. You wouldn’t want to be late for school,” the image of Theo’s charming smile, forever deceiving, lingers in his mind’s eye. A wave of annoyance washes over him, and he kicks upwards with the last of his rapidly draining perseverance. Theo doesn’t even budge.

The werewolf leans down, his breath ghosting over Stiles’s ear. “Kill you? Honestly, when this is over, you’ll be wishing I did.”

Everything goes black, but before he loses consciousness, Stiles is sure he caught a glimpse of a silver metal hammer.

#steo #idk i kinda feel uncomfy writing this kinda stuff bc im worried yall might have trauma similar to it #please tell me if you think its not okay!!#its meant to develop into something stockholme syndromy #since thats what happens in the original and it feels like it fits with both their characters #also #i refer to theo as a werewolf bc its from stiles’s perspective #and he hasnt found out about chimeras yet

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doof-doofblog · 4 years ago

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"Another Tea?"

Friday 29th January 2021

Hello again everyone! I'm sure the majority of us are floating on clouds after Ballum finally got engaged! It really was a beautiful episode, wasn't it? I'm really intrigued to see what's going to follow in this episode. Will it show Phil and Kathy's reaction? I'm kind of hoping so! But obviously, there's more than just Ballum's engagement going on! Let's jump straight into it!

Firstly, I am quite surprise to notice that Ben and Callum aren't even in this episode! But the one person who is close to them who is in this episode is Lola! Of course she found out about Honey and Jay's secret romance before they could come clean to Billy. It's quite sad as in this episode, after learning the truth about Honey and Jay, Billy is sat on his own in the café, it looks as if he's still struggling to come to terms with what he's learnt. Lola finds him and asks him to sign a card for Ben and Callum. He claims that he's simply not in the mood, which I guess is fair enough. Unfortunately, Jay slowly follows behind, Lola doesn't seem to respond but Billy can't seem to hold in his anger. As much as Jay tries to apologise, Billy simply has none of it and takes it upon himself inform Lola about what's been happening, unbeknown to him that she already knows. As Billy informs her and pretty much the rest of the cafe about Jay and Honey's infidelity, Lola tries to plead to her "Pops" not to. Eventually it comes pretty clear to Billy that his Granddaughter already knew, this is another huge blow for Billy and he walks out, completely and utterly broken. Later on when Billy is back on his stall, not really having the best of times, Lola approaches him to try and build bridges for her dishonesty, but its looks as if Billy feels like everyone is against him, everyone has lied and turned their backs on him. Jay overhears the commotion and for a second time tries to approach Billy in an attempt to apologise or explain, but of course Billy isn't interested in anything he has to say. I understand that Billy is angry and devastated but to be fair, what he said to Jay was completely out of order I feel, what do you guys think? Accusing Jay of being with his Granddaughter, now his ex-wife - making the disgusting statement that he'll be after Janet next after his record. (Most of you will remember that Jay was given a criminal record for sleeping with a girl who was not the age she claimed to be, unfortunately ending up with him being on the sex offenders list!). As Jay tries to defend himself, he's responded with a huge punch from Billy, to which both Lola and Honey witnessed. Leaving Jay in a heap on the floor, Billy walks away. Do we think that because of this betrayal, it's going to cause Billy to go on a really dark downward spiral? I personally think it's been a very long time since Billy has been given a really gripping storyline, maybe this will be the moment that will give Perry Fenwick a chance to shine!

Meanwhile in other parts of the Square, Mick is trying to fix a toy for Ollie, a toy he's been promising to fix for a quite a while apparently. As Linda joins him, she states how proud she is of her husband for going to the police. However, it looks as if Mick is worried about how it's made him feel as a man. He claims that all he wants to be is a good Dad and a good husband, and everything that he's been going through has made him feel like he's just a victim. It looks as if he's fearing that that image of him will now never go away once everyone has heard about his abuse. However, later on as Mick and little Ollie are sat together in the apartment, little Ollie notifies his Dad that he's just seen a huge rat scurrying across the floor. I did find this scene incredibly cute and funny, especially when Mick informed Linda that they have a "Tom and Jerry situation!" As Ollie and Linda stand upon the furniture, Mick leaps into action and finds a way to catch the rat/mouse. I don't know why but something tells me that Linda was behind it, or it could've been a very small coincidence, but Linda still compliments her husband that he'll always be their hero, no matter what! Knowing this seems to give Mick a huge confidence boost! Do you think he'll start to slowly get his life back on track?!

The next thing I have to mention is Whitney and Gray! Oooooo I think it's been said for a long time that Whitney and Gray would become a couple, it's perfectly obvious that feelings are beginning to build between them! It's revealed to us that the night Whitney decided to stay for tea with Gray and his children, actually ended up with her and Gray sharing two bottles of wine and her crashing out on the sofa! Gray offers Whitney to stay for breakfast, but it's pretty clear he's gone all out to impress her - buying all sorts of gorgeous pastries for breakfast. Even though Whitney is touched by his offer, it's only when Mack sees her and asks whether she's saying, that she actually agrees. As they both go about their day, Shirley notifies Gray that he found Whitney's earring and acknowledges that something is going on between them, however Gray insists that they're just good friends and Whitney is simply a childminder, nothing more. But something tells me that Shirley isn't convinced, she questions the possibility that perhaps it's a bit too soon for him to be moving on and he's still grieving for Chantelle. This next section completely surprised me, Gray makes his way into the living room and pulls out a type of scrapbook, as he looks through it, there are tons of pictures of him, Chantelle and the children. Does this perhaps bring Gray back down to Earth? He takes it upon himself to pick up some flowers to take to the cemetery, only popping to grab himself a coffee on the way. But what takes a massive turn is when he sees on old colleague, passing on their condolences. This seems to grab Gray's attention pretty quickly, questioning how they knew Chantelle, but when it comes clear that Chantelle had approached him in an attempt to get away from her husband, Gray's attitude takes a massive U-turn, returning home and completely destroying the scrapbook, chucking all the pictures away in the bin. However he doesn't quite get rid of the flowers. Later on, Whitney calls over in response to Gray's urgent message - however as things are looking more calmer than she expected, Gray offers her another glass of wine. At first she seems really reluctant, but suddenly feels obliged when Gray has a drink himself. Eyeing up the flowers on the table, Whitney questions Gray whether he was thinking of going to the cemetery, but interestingly, he notifies her that flowers are actually in fact for her. Suddenly he drops the bombshell that she should move in, this completely takes Whitney by surprise. Gray's words continue as he announces that they have something special and states that they can both sense it. At first, Whitney seems to shrug it off and claims that he's still grieving, but as soon as she mentions Chantelle's name, Gray tells her to "Sssshhh!" almost as if he doesn't want to hear her name! - Is Whitney really going to start a relationship with Gray? Will she agree and move in with him? What do you guys think? Will Whitney end up being the one who sees Gray for who he really is? What will the Square think of their new relationship?

Finally, Lucas has moved back officially onto the Square. After discussions with Denise and Jack, Jack has agreed to give Lucas one of his flats. The only reason being is so Denise can keep an eye on her daughter and make sure she's safe. As soon as Lucas and Chelsea arrive on the Square, Chelsea offers to treat her Dad to some food, however Lucas's eyes a very suspicious as she pulls out a huge wad of cash as she pays the taxi driver. The first thought that comes to our minds is "Where the hell did she get that money?!" - What the heck is Chelsea up to? For some reason, I do think this episode shed a bit more light on what Chelsea was involved in. As Lucas and Chelsea wait for Jack to show up to show them Lucas's new apartment, we can see a hooded figure sat in a car, watching them from a distance. Was this the person who was behind the attack on Lucas? Eventually the hooded figure seems to plant a package quite a distance away by the market, Chelsea clicks on to the package and informs her Dad that she's going to grab them some coffee's. However as soon as Chelsea leaves, Lucas watches his daughter pick up the package that has been left. My first thought is "Is she dealing drugs?" - it would make perfect sense! The money? The secrecy? The packages? What else could it be? Later on when Jack returns from showing Lucas the apartment, Lucas spots the hooded figure and hurries to approach him in the car, acting completely calm and collected, he informs him that he knows Chelsea, dropping hints that he's been made aware of only some of the "Plans" which are going ahead. Interestingly, the bloke takes Lucas's words for it and informs him that Chelsea has been given passports and money, once they get to their destination they're meant to be bringing as much gear as they can carry, back. This makes me think, is Chelsea involved in drug smuggling?! Later when Lucas catches up with his daughter, she asks whether she liked the apartment that Jack showed him. Of course he seems a little distracted, but then she drops the bombshell that to give her Dad something to look forward to, she's planned a holiday for him and her to go to Ibiza! Of course we can see that Lucas puts on a front, informing his daughter that he's thrilled at the idea, but deep down, he knows that it's not a holiday he'll be going on.

Do you think my suspicion is correct? Could Chelsea drag her Father into a drug smuggling scandal and perhaps frame him? Or would she take a trip to Ibiza and leave him there? I genuinely have no other idea what it could be except for drugs. It makes sense doesn't it, really? Please let me know what you guys think! I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions! I hope you all have a fantastic weekend! Look after yourself and I'll be back again very soon! Thank you all for your on-going support! Love you all xXx

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overobsessivewhumper · 5 years ago

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Mutt’s new home 2

I’m bad at naming things i write... Anyway, here’s part two! I had a tone of fun writing this, despite all the mistakes i made with the tenses...

Previous Next

Trigger warnings: mention of blood and burns and stuff

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @im-not-rare-im-rarr @comfortforthepain @18-toe-beans

To say that Gavin had no idea what the hell he was doing, would be an understatement. He’d never want anything to do with any Pet in the first place, and most definitely never wanted one as his own. He couldn’t have dealt with a Pet under any circumstances, and sure as hell couldn’t deal with one as scared as this one. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t want to frighten or stress him out, but had no idea how to avoid that. But he tried his best to just focus on tending to the injuries of the young man. Gavin crouched down in front of the couch once again.

“Could you please stop hugging your legs to your chest? Please? I just want to help you…” He complied without hesitation, albeit still shaking like a leaf. Now Gavin could get a good look at the man sitting before him. He could quickly summarize that he had no idea where to start. Mutt looks an absolute mess, and Gavin’s skills in first-aid weren’t the best. But he’d took a course a year or two ago, and remembered some of the things he’d learnt. First, he tried to prioritize what looks the worst from what looks more minor.

A dark bruise covers his right cheek, and other more faded-out ones cover his jaw and area around the eyes. A not too old looking cut lays high on his right cheek, and there are abrasions covering his jaw in places. Gavin guesses the latter is due to the muzzle. Bruises cover Mutt’s neck, probably from choking, and shoulders. Gavin reaches out and carefully prods the man’s clavicle and gets greeted with a whimper in response.

“Sorry…” Mutt doesn’t show any sign of having heard him.

After doing the same with his other collarbone, Gavin thinks that it’s safe to say they both seem intact, despite all the bruising. The same goes for his ribs. The bruising there is still dark in spots, but all in all, it appears more faded. The criss-cross of new and old cuts, some looking almost fresh and still bleeding, others already healing or scars. His left side bears an injury, that on closer inspection, turns out to be some sort of burn or scald. Curiosity drowned out by common sense Gavin doesn’t press Mutt on the subject. His legs look a similar state to his chest, though there seems to be more burns here. Specifically two pretty nasty ones in either crook of his knee. Gavin only finds out about these when he tries to shift Mutt’s knee to take a better look at it, slipping his hand under it. The man lets out a pained howl which he quickly tries to quench by biting into the side of his hand.

“Shit! Sorry! Sorry…” Leaning down a bit more, Gavin tries to see what caused such a reaction. The ugly burns that he discovers shock him. “Shit… That looks bad… Shit.” Gavin feels sick. It sickens him that someone would treat another person like this. “Shit. I’m really sorry.” Not knowing what to say, Gavin continued looking at the rest of Mutt. Next to a probably sprained ankle and some healing cuts at the bottom of his feet there was nothing too different from the rest. There seem to be a lot of scars hinting at past injuries, like long scars covering the bottom of his feet and palms of his hands, and the scars at his left shoulder, knee and some on both of his hands probably from breaks that needed medical attention. And his back was most definitively a mess. Scars cris-cross in each direction, with fresher welts and cuts that lay over those.

Gavin has to take a moment to breath an think. He stands up and takes a few steps away from him. Pacing back and forth, tugging at his shirt nervously, he tries to get his act together. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about himself right now, but he was finding it hard to process this all. At the start of the night he was thinking about if his hair didn’t look like he was trying too hard to look smart, and now he was the owner of an injured and traumatized Pet who has probably seen more abuse and pain dealt to him then Gavin could even imagine. What was he going to do? He couldn’t just… fix the damage and wrongs Mr. Hughes and others had done to the man like one would fix a car with a dented hood. Taking a deep breath Gavin pushes his nerves away as best he can, and turns back to the matter at hand. Mutt is trying to sit still, but can’t stop the trembling in his limbs. Gavin walks back over to him and crouches down.

“I’m… I’m going to try to take care of your injuries the best I can now. Some of it will probably hurt, so please tell me to stop if it’s too much, or I’m doing something wrong. I’ll… Yeah, I’ll just start if that’s okay…” Slowly, Mutt nods.

He starts by trying to clean any open wound with water and disinfectant. If he learnt something in the first-aid course he attended, it’s that you should clean open wounds thoroughly. The man was obviously trying his best to stay quiet, and was scarily good at it too. The fist time he let any kind of sound out being when Gavin pressed the wet cloth to the burn on his flank. He let out a quiet whine, closely followed by a hasty, frantic apology. Gavin made sure to assure him that it was okay for him to let out noises of pain if the pain got too bad and hoped it didn’t sound like he just wanted to hear his Pets pain being vocalized. Tending to his back and the nasty burns in the crooks of his knees lead to more pained whimpering, and Gavin had to stop for a while to let him breath whilst treating the latter. Gavin soon notices that he’ll need to buy more first-aid supplies, especially bandaging materials. But he has about enough to get the open wounds covered more or less.

Taking a look at the man, Gavin decides that it won’t be getting any better then this. To be honest, Mutt does not look any better at all. Now he just looks unwell and covered in bandages and plasters and such. Gavin sighs and rests his face in his hands.

“How are you holding up? Would you like an Advil?”

Scrunching his face up in confusion and leaning forwards, Mutt inquires “Ad… Advil?”

“Um… It’s a painkiller.”

“I… With… With all d… due respect Sir, I know wh… what Advil is…” Mutt ducks his head, like he’s expecting to be slapped. “I… I was just wondering… Why was… waste medicine on… on a… a Pet, Sir?”

Gavin messes with his hair whilst trying not to plot his boss’s murder. “I… I don’t see it as wasting medicine if I give it to someone that needs it. And I think you could use an Advil…”

“R… really, sir?”

“Yeah… Also, no need to call me Sir…” Gavin grabbed the box of Advil and a glass of water, handing both to the man sitting on his couch, who takes it looking unbelievably grateful. “It probably won’t take the pain away completely, but might… take the edge off. I don’t know… I’m not a pharmacist or a doctor…” Nervously Gavin runs his hand through his hair again and smiles a little bit awkwardly.

“Thank you Mas…” Mutt stops himself, takes a deep breath and tries again. “Thank you Ga… Gavin.”

Gavin laughs awkwardly. “No need to thank me. You shouldn’t have to be in pain…” For a moment, Gavin zones out, just staring off into the distance. Until he suddenly snapped out of it when he realized that Mutt was still only wearing those short white pants, that basically where essentially just boxer shorts, and that he still hadn’t offered him something to eat.

“Wait here a moment…” Gavin started to go off to look for a clean pair of pyjamas for his… guest. “I’ll be right back!” It didn’t take him long to find something. A light-grey, short-sleeved top, and a pair of light-blue pyjama trousers. Both where relatively loose and mad of soft cotton.

Rushing back downstairs and handing the man the cloths and telling him to put them on, Gavin leaves to give him some privacy. So he goes to the kitchen to try and find something for him to eat. Gavin guessed he’d probably had pretty sparse meals whilst living with his previous master, so he opted to try and find something not all too heavy.

After checking the fridge and cupboards, he decides to make a bag of alphabet soup. Broth seems to be the go-to food for people who haven’t been eating for a while or are sick, and something warm was sure to be a good idea. He put the kettle on and went to check on the man. He was sitting on the couch again, trembling lightly.

“I… Uhh… Put the kettle on to make you some broth. I hope that’s okay.” Mutt nods eagerly. “So… would you like to… sit at the table until it’s done?”

“Sit… at a table? I’m all… allowed on furniture?” Gavin nods. The man gets up, looking slightly unstable. Gavin moves closer, letting Mutt lean on him. The way to the table is a bit slow, but no one ends up falling over, so Gavin sees it as a success. Sitting down, the man winces.

“Shit… Um… What’s causing you pain?” Looking him over, Gavin’s nerves return full force. What if he had overseen something? What if he had internal injuries? A look of shock crosses Mutt’s face and staring at Gavin with wide eyes he replies.

“It’s no… nothing new… Jus… just the abrupt change of posture pu… pulling at the injuries. Also the burns on my l… legs.” Gavin was surprised at Mutt’s lack of trying to hide his pain, but was happy he was being honest.

“Oh. Maybe if you move a bit forwards on the chair it won’t touch the burns?” Mutt doesn’t hesitate to do what Gavin told him to do. Gavin smiles, hoping he’s more comfortable now. Suddenly springing into action, Gavin broke the silence.

“I’ll get you the broth. You just… stay here and try to relax I guess.” Gavin shrugged, and went back into the kitchen. He made the soup in a bowl, making sure to ad a bit of cold water, to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Grabbing a spoon from a drawer, he made his way to the table. He put the soup down in front of the man who he now apparently owned, and smiled.

“Eat up. Or… don’t. I’m not forcing you to do anything.” He shrugs. “Just… eat as much as you feel like eating.” Thankfulness spreads over Mutt’s facial expression, and, still a little hesitantly, he starts to take spoonful after spoonful of soup.

Gavin takes the moment of relative calm to sit down on one of the other chairs, using his elbow to prop up his head. A wave of tiredness overcomes him. Well it was like… two in the morning, right? Gavin had no idea. He knew it would have to be early, but he wasn’t wearing a watch, and his mobile was probably in his jacket. All he knew, was that he was tired. Trying to keep awake and focused, he tried to concentrate on the man sitting at the same table as him. That did work for a while, but not for long. Soon his thoughts drifted, and his focus waned and not even the feeling of his face hitting the table could snap him back to reality.

#my stuff #my writing #my OC's #gavin #mutt #comfort #I guess...#mention of blood #injury #all that kind of stuff...#gavin and mutt

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natakuchan · 4 years ago

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Talking a lil about helping strays and abandoned cats 🐈

Weird things and useful tips I learnt while working at animal rescue - You can't save everyone. And you won't. But one life saved is one life saved. - You will get attached. And you will suffer and cry. Be sure of what you're getting into. - If you get attached too much, you will be crushed when the cat dies. If you don't get attached at all, the cat won't trust you. - Trap carriers are the best to catch strays. Plus they're cool, they'll make you feel like a mighty hunter or some stuff. But they're uncommon as hell. And expensive. - Trap carriers will stress the cat to a dangerous point. Please only use it in a life or death situation (huge wounds, a kitten being too young to be pregnant for its safety, dangerous road nearby) - If you use the trap carrier, you will have to watch it until the cat is caught. You can't do that in daylight cause the trap carrier wil freak people out. So be prepared to stay the night long. Bring snacks. Bring music. Bring games. Put your cellphone on mute. - If you use a regular carrier, it's best to befriend the cat first if you have time. Put food in the carrier, let it go inside on itself, quickly push its tail in and close the door. Never hesitate or it's game over. After a failed attempt, it won't trust you again. - Never catch a cat without a plan: a foster home, money for the vet or immediate forever home. Always prefer wait a little to find it a futur before catching it than the opposite. - Ophaned stray kittens aren't a big deal to catch. They're making that big fuss but they'll mostly froze once you catch them. Their scratches and bites don't hurt too much. !! Never catch a stray kitten if it has a mom. Your nursing doesn't worth 1/10 of hers! - There will be a lot of stress poop and that smells horribly. Be prepared. - Kittens under 2 months dies a lot. Never get too hopeful. - Don't be terrified of typhus but know your ennemy and expect it when it's about kittens. - Always assure a vet you'll pay. Even if you don't have money. Some will put a kitten down instead of saving it if they're worried about you paying them. I can assure you it will haunt you. - If you can, don't leave the kitten alone with the vet. It'll show everyone you care and that the kitten's life is worthy. - You will catch fleas and you may catch worms too. Be prepared. - Always have your own pets vaccinated. And change clothes, wash your hands each time you've interacted with an unknown stray cat/pet. You could bring death home. - Two weeks quarantine for every new foster is a needed luxury. - You only got one chance when choosing your foster's forever home. Follow your instinct. If you send them to a bad home, it's game over. - People won't like you. It's not because you feed, help and save stray cats that they'll think you're a good person. - Some people will call the cops on you. Since they feed their neighborhood strays, they think the cats belong to them. I had a grandma calling the cops on me because I tried to catch a car hitten stray (open wound to the leg, limping) to bring it to the vet. They'll tell you it's the 'law of nature' and that 'they're better off dying here because it's where they were born'. - Some people will threaten you. Again. They think the cats belongs to the 'neighborhood' and you're stealing. - Not all animal rescue associations/ organizations are attentive to animal wellbeing. To be honest, in France at least, a lot of them are fishy and only here for the money. They will abuse an animal without hesitation and hoard them on tiny cages never cleaned. Never trust anyone but yourself. You'll need them for the vet bills, though. So you'll have to be hypocrite and that's alright: you're saving lives, not playing the lawful good hero. Just never leave a cat to their care, obviously. - You can spend weeks or months sociabilizing a cat and getting it to trust humans again, if the association that owns it wants to release it. If its foster family neglects it. It's game over. You've done your best but that's not up to you anymore.

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voidcat · 4 years ago

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of Pamphlets & Bass Guitars

– The Impromptu Debate

Word Count: 1.2k

I’ll add my actual Author’s Notes at the end to clear things up & not spoil the chapter.

Pamphlets (ch3) | chapter 4 | chapter 5 (coming soon)

ao3 – masterlist

Your eyes trail on the each face in the room. The group of boys first, they all look so smug and sure of themselves. You want to punch those expressions off their faces. Then the teachers and the vice principal, each with a face that says “I can’t believe I’m wasting my time here.”. Its still a wonder to you why some people choose a career involving the young and education when they clearly dislike it.

Eyes going through the room, examining one by one, avoiding the not-so-kind gazed of girls who only increase in minutes. With dread, your eyes find Oikawa’s at last.

Maybe a minute of staring and you sign in defeat. “Okay, go on. Tell me how you got that scar, you brave war hero.”

“So you see, it was around lunch break when I walked into those assholes with a scheme as low as themselves. Usually when a girl alone walked by, one of them drops something or pretends to walk into them, make something that will cause the girl to bend or pick something up from the ground. And the rest just enjoy- what did they call it again?... ‘The show’.” He says the last part with finger quotes.

“And what? You watched the pull this crap all break?”

“No, no! I came at them the moment I first saw it. I learnt the full story from one of them, during a poorly attempted comeback. And as you can see-“ hand showing his bruise again “-it ended in a fight.”

You just give him an unconvinced look. Just how stupid does he think you are, thinking you’d fall for such a badly written story…

“Look, believe me or not, it’s what happened. Hell! Ask Iwa-Chan, anyone knows he hates lying, he saw it happen too.”

“Oikawa, he is your best friend.”

“A best friend who never shows that to me obviously. He wouldn’t lie even if his life was on the line.” He has a point, you can’t help but think. Iwaizumi was known for always following the rules, despite being friends with that seaweed-for-brains.

“Whatever, I’ll mention this if I can find an opening for it. We need proof or a witness though and I don’t see Iwaizumi-san anywhere.”

“I’ll get him if needed, don’t ya worry your pretty head about it!- Ouch!” Maybe Not your strongest hit but a hit on the arm is enough to shut him up. From the way he keeps [ovalamak] his arm, it’s clear your message is received.

After a not so long wait, you begin speaking without addressing anyone in the room. If they want an unofficial debate, that’s what you will give them. No respect to those who don’t respect or care for others.

“I can begin my speech with years long of patriarchy and how it shaped and affected society. But it’d be too long and we’d all be dead before it could ever be finished. I can mention the long going cases of abuse, harassment, rape and murder. How it’s always the victim blamed when it’s convenient yet how everyone goes silent when the said victim is found in a “modest” set of clothing or make up. But this, is however, is a very grim topic and can affect some of us here badly. Honestly, it is quite unbelievable how we have to defend why we want more open clothing options. The other side are only here because they like to watch girls with long legs walk, they like to peep at our skirts, bother and harass us then go and say how it is not their fault since the skirts are too short. If I really have to present a recent harassment case like this, I have Oikawa Tooru as a witness and some girls who were direct targets. I’ve noticed how some of our teachers like to think we exaggerate the things we have to endure almost on a daily basis. Give the option of skirts and pants for everyone, equally. So the next time it happens, because it will happen, as sad as it sounds, we will have proof that we were never exaggerating in the first place.” By the time you’re done talking, you notice you’re out of breath.

Watching the teachers whisper among themselves and ‘the opposite side’ texting on their phones as if they’re here for nothing, you can sense Oikawa vibrating with energy and enthusiasm. “Good job cap.” He whispers your way. You just nod in response and turn to look at the girls here. Some of them have an incomprehensible expression on their faces. You can guess the why of it.

Half an hour of whispering and arguing, you get an answer as close to a yes. Everyone starts leaving one by one as you wait for the crowd to dispense. For some reason, so does Oikawa.

As you two walk outside, he crosses his arms behind his head, giving you a side glance. “So what do you say… Would you like to come watch me practice?” And as expected, he finishes with a wink.

“I’d rather get shipped to Antarctica.” With that, you walk away without sparring a glance.

“Hello Iwaizumi-san.” He looks surprised to see you. Makes sense, you suppose. You don’t recall a time you came to Seiji’s classroom to talk to someone that wasn’t him.

“Oh, hello. Did you need something?”

“In a matter of fact, yes. Yesterday when you were talking to Oikawa… Why did you act like that and sighed after seeing me?” He avoids your gaze at the question then sighs as if a long and tiring day at work has just come to an end.

“Nothing serious, really. Shittykawa here has developed a new, what I’m hoping to be another, short-lived obsession. This time on that anonymous writer.” He looks at you once before continuing. “Except, it has gotten worse in the past week. At first it was finding out the person behind it. Crazy theories and all. And now, for some reason, he is convinced that person is you. Naturally, when I saw him yesterday, I thought it was another attempt of his ‘undercover’ operations.”

You don’t breath out a single word during the entire time. You can feel your palms starting to sweat. Just how exactly did he get so close to it? Was that what yesterday was all about? How long have his undercover research or whatever been going? How much does he know? With a rushed ‘thank you’ to Iwaizumi and you walk out of the classroom.

Is that worry you’re feeling? Fear?

Why would you? What could he have against you to use?

You consider going to Seiji, discuss it with him, have a plan or a set of actions to follow. As you start walking, you’re stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

“There she is! The man of the hour! How are you today you feral beast? Oikawa told us how you lashed out at ‘em yesterday, givin’ a taste of your poison…”

You don’t respond. You don’t even hear Makki talk.

Eyes glued to a spot ahead of you, almost hidden by the shadows. And there stands Oikawa Tooru, staring at you with a look you can only call ‘hostile’.

A/N: Hello! I think the “debate” or whatever you want to call it in this chapter may sound unconvincing to some people so I wanted to clear some things up.

I hope this doesn’t sound braggy but I was attending a high school that was in the top 5 in the country for years and most of our interactions with the administration went like this. Bureaucracy almost never worked, you could file in a report or a letter of complaint about an issue but it’d usually go unnoticed. (We legit protested the principal of that year one morning, it made the news and pissed of the bigots in the country ahahah.)

Also there was a harassment case one year, this happened among underclassmen (9th graders, I was a senior) and we didn’t hear of it until it was too late to do something. What happened was worse than what I wrote here but yea there was a fight involved too lol. So yeah,, my point is things like that happen. The teachers usually don’t give a shit about the students and some students look after one another to cover up their messes. I wanted the reader’s opening speech to be something better but with the recent news in the country, I feel emotionally and mentally exhausted, sorry.

I hope this wasn’t so long and thank you if you read til the end. Feel free to send in asks, worries, talk about your day in the ask box etc etc. I’m always open to ranting & talking.

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coolcattime · 4 years ago

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Letter from a Harpy

Authors Note: This story was written by me (@coolcattime) and my friend @atlass-coat. Both characters are used for a dnd campaign ran by Atlas and belong to us.

Moodboard also made by @atlass-coat.

This story is about those characters and their friendship, it concerns the past of one of the characters and the tension that the people from that past can bring.

For more stuff about Medli (one of the characters in this story) check out her character dossier that I wrote: here.

Content Warning: Implied abuse, implied self-harm, implied school-related trauma.

Idric Ba’lor and Medli took their stay in a port town where their ilk ran through the streets. Although the outspoken adventurers and flamboyant merchants may be an annoyance to some, they made the duo feel at home. Well, as at home as a tiefling and water genasi can feel, especially when neither was interested in blending in.

The two have already been travelling together for quite a while, this town serving as just another in a short line of places they had travelled to. Upon arriving, docking Idric’s boat in the town’s port, they had started calling the local tavern their refuge.

This particular night had been spent telling tales and hearing the local fables, as well as more than a few drinks. The night had been another hectic one, ending with the two being the last of the guests to retire to their rooms.

Idric strolls out of his room just before the afternoon took hold. He walks up to the bar with a smirk while jostling his hair, and after a short conversation with the barmaid, he joins Medli at a table. She smiles at her friend, hearing the unique clack of his jackboots. She decides not to question the drink in his hand.

After half an hour of sitting in silence people watching, she chooses to talk rather than continue the quiet.

“Did you sleep okay?” She opens, cocking her head a little. She chooses to ignore her drink and the last scraps of food now her friend is up and about.

“Pretty well, I mean who doesn’t love a hay mattress, yourself?” He jokes, smiling before comfortably sipping his wine.

The conversation feels radiantly normal, a relaxingly regular set of pleasantries. It was a stark change from the high energy of the night before, but it still feels normal for the two.

“It wasn’t the worst place I’ve ever slept,” Medli giggles quietly. The comfort of the mattress didn’t really matter to her, so long as she got a full night’s rest and to talk with her friend. Actually getting to sleep soundly was usually far easier said than done but at least this night was safe.

“And it’s nice to be on dry land again, at least for a bit.” She finishes tentatively, realising how much time she’d let pass in her head.

“I suppose the dorms in the cobbled hellscape that is Mistwalker can’t be great,” He amuses absentmindedly, rolling up his sleeves and tying them back to sit on his elbows.

Medli shrank down an inch or two in her chair.

“They could’ve been nice,” She speaks low with a frown, “they just need doors that lock.” She hadn’t even realised how common that was until she’d left the college.

Medli idly starts playing with her hair, mostly to distract herself but also because the quiet “whooshing” sound it makes, makes her smile. She isn’t really distracted but it stops her dwelling on the past so much, not that that was really fully possible.

“Sounds so damn safe, bet the nights were restful,” He laughs through his sentence but there’s a clear bite to it. Medli had truly suffered at that college, and though he understands that feeling, her lack of anger, or even blame towards those who caused it, never got easier to watch.

“Well,” She opens, unsure of the rest of the sentence. “At least I don’t have to go back any time soon.”

She ends her point with a smile or at least an attempt at one. The memories won’t go away on their own, but she can try to avoid them by switching into a less uncomfortable topic, “So… do you think we’ll get to do anything here?”

“You never know what’ll come up – I’m sure something will be worth the trip,” He responds, more than happy to talk about literally anything. Idric also definitely wasn’t wrong, something always seems to come up, they would always manage to find a story worth telling.

The silence gave Idric a moment to collect himself, trying to decide how to broach the next topic and whether it needed to be done now. Before he could truly decide anything, he begins to speak.

“And you got this, the bartender says it’s from a college,” He tries to sound neutral but, he can’t help but sound invasive. He scrapes the letter across the table “So, what’s she want?”

She untied and unfolded the letter, paying little attention to its content, instead she watches her friend. His furrowed brow, scrunched-up nose, and crocked neck are pretty hard to miss.

Idric knew Clarissa was the sender but that wasn’t enough, he needed to know if his other guesses were right too.

Medli skimmed each line with bloodshot eyes, completely panicked. She spends the time she could’ve spent reading it to try and stop the blaring signs of being caught from showing on her face. This was not done well.

“Why is there another one?” She witters under her breath, not even meaning to speak but being far too flustered to stop herself.

Idric’s face can’t decide between a scowl or a smirk, between anger or vindication.

“Exactly, oh exactly what I thought,” His theory had been proven correct, but now new theories about why this was kept from him start to swarm his mind. Meanwhile, Medli is frozen, doing her best not to scream or cry as her mind berated her.

He breaks the silence.

“Walk with me,” Idric stands, trying to rub the tiredness out of his face. This is something best discussed privately.

He walks into his room under the stairs, Medli follows him, barely stopping herself crumpling the letter. As much as she wants to, she couldn’t bring herself to destroy it. She couldn’t destroy any of them.

After letting her into the room, Idric comes the door with a loud spin, unintentionally making Medli flinch.

Idric, in an attempt not to make another loud noise, confines himself to the bed, kicking his legs over onto the headboard and placing his hands on his knees.

“Right, so, Clarissa is doing what exactly?”

“She, erm, she…” Medli stumbles over her words, completely lost with what to say next. She doesn’t want him to be angry, even if she knows she chose to hide this from him. “She’s been sending me money.” Escapes her before going silent once more, digging her wrists into each other.

“You’ve been getting gold in the mail!? From the Harpy Queen herself?” He can’t help but sound disgusted, the break in his voice only adding tension to the room. “And you didn’t think it relevant to your travelling companion? Your violin in crime? Am I just a set of strings to you?” Idric tries to laugh but the fire in his throat won’t let him form the sound.

Medli feels her heart slamming against her ribs, it’s beat paralyses her, pinning her to the spot. “I…” She is barely able to speak, her voice shakes but her is body rigidly still. She tries desperately to get her words out, but nothing comes. She can’t help but think she’s within a drought, a very dangerous place for a water genasi to be. “I told her I didn’t want it, that we were— but the letters aren’t exactly nice…”

“Not exactly nice, how?” Idric over-straightens his back, interrupting her, remembering who drove this rift between them. He could sense there was something else, something she either didn’t want to tell him or just didn’t want to say.

She gnaws at her gum. For a brief moment, she considers lying her way out of this or just running back to her room, but Idric is her friend and whether he would figure out this situation or not, she can’t keep hiding things from the people she trusts.

More than a moment passes with neither sure of what to say before Medli composes herself enough to answer his questions.

“They all say that the gold is so I can get back to the college… when, I, um, I, come to my senses because you’re just going to…” Medli trails off into silence, choosing not to finish that sentence. The letters were filled with Clarissa’s usual language, the type that Medli learnt to expect would be bad but even that didn’t seem to make them hurt any less.

The question of if she deserves to hear them enters her mind with a wince before Idric responds.

“Wow, they really do not like me, do they? And gods, how low must they think of you, dear?” Idric starkly switches from guttural to a softer mumble between questions.

He remembers feeling that kind of helplessness, anger isn’t the tool here. She needs her friend by her side, not at her throat.

“I mean, she doesn’t seem like she has a high opinion of you either,” Medli bites her lip again, trying to hold her nerve but unable to stop rereading each letter in her head.

“Apparently though, I can still corrupt your little mind with my evil devil powers, apparently,” He moves his hands in the spookiest fashion he can think of before jolting up onto his feet. His coat whips around with him, as he uses a simple bit of magic to create a gust of overdramatic wind, really selling the silliness of his words.

He meets her eyes hoping for a laugh, or at least a smile, but only a tear-stared stare meets him. He exhales softly, trying to create a level of calm that they desperately needs. “You seem more scared than angry that I found out or embarrassed you’d been caught. That’s a hell of a plot twist, what’s this doing to you Meds?” He isn’t even sure if that made sense, but this room can’t lay silent any longer.

“Clarissa, she keeps,” Medli takes a breath of her own, attempting to push through a hive of anxiety. She needs to get her words out; she just doesn’t want to say any of it. It frustrates her. She knows exactly what she wants to say, she just can’t push through for long enough to pick the words.

“In all the letters, she said that you’re going to abandon me. I… I thought that if you found out you’d…” She doesn’t want to finish that sentence either. Everything feel like it’s in an ocean of anxiety, confusion, and a creeping certainly that Clarissa may have been right. She has always hated that thought, but she couldn’t let it silence here anymore, regardless of the outcome.

“No one’s ever stuck by me. Basically everyone at the college stayed away from me unless they were planning something that would make everything worse. I didn’t exactly make many friends before I met you.”

She finally looks up to face him, expecting anger or, at the very least, confusion. She finds neither. Idric instead produces a comforting smile, presenting a dimple she didn’t know he had. Idric had a look like this memorised from far too many evenings on the other side of it, that didn’t mean he actually knew how to help though.

“Before you met me yes, but my dear, this is after. A lot has changed and one of those things, potentially the best change, is that we are going to stick with each other,” He feels confident that would’ve resonated with him, so hopefully that’ll be enough. “I know everything’s all new but listening to the ramblings of a harpy can never be the solution.”

Clarissa’s words have done far too much damage, letting them do more is unacceptable. She will not cost Medli another friend, however clever the gaslight she holds.

“But if I ignore them, then she’ll,” Medli shifts a little, still unable to let go of her fear, even if it felt ridiculous, she needed to give it a voice. “She’ll show up in person again.” Her whisper almost comes out as a scream, with each word laced with sheer dread.

Idric doesn’t miss a step in responding.

“Then we deal with that then, and we deal with it together,” He offers his drink with a sort of ‘half-toast’ before taking a drink. “Hence why we’re a team, I thought you knew what you were choosing when you got on my ship and not hers.”

He still can’t seem to shake her out her quivering shoulders and a winced smile. He is far from giving up, though.

“Though, if I may, I’ll remind you—” He takes a moment, stepping towards her silently, still offering a warm expression. “Clarissa’s reign is over. It’s just us now.”

She still doesn’t know how to respond. Neither of them had been here before, and she had no idea what to say. Offer gratitude and pretend it’s all fine? Start to cry? Keep ranting until he admits defeat?

“What’s the worst thing she can do to us right now?” He tries to prompt her to speak, hoping to get her out of her own head.

“She…” Medli barely gets her first word out, too concentrated in watching her forefinger and thumb press and push at her wrist. She couldn’t take her eyes off it.

“I suppose you’re right.” She sounds hopefully insincere.

“I mean, you’re hanging with a literal devil darlin’, what’s she gonna do, tell Asmodeus we are being mean to her?” Regardless of what she’s hiding, now is a time for hope. They can face the rest of her story when she’s ready.

Medli feels the load on her shoulders lift, even if not completely, and looks up finally meeting Idric’s eyes. “It’s just… I don’t understand how she knows where we are. Every time we stop, somehow another letter comes. It’s like she’s still watching me.” Her voice sounds far less shook up, and her breath begins to catch up with her, but she still can’t seem to escape her nerves, or the ever-growing number of questions of how Clarissa could be doing this.

“We can definitely deal with that,” Idric speaks with confidence, beaming with the thought of a new plan forming. “I know a diviner or two, I’m sure they’ll know something or learn it quick enough.”

“I do love a crowd but she’s not even paying to see us.” He laughs to himself.

“Well, I mean technically…” Medli interjects, unsure if a joke this early is okay. Idric seems to think so though, and the two share a quick laugh.

“If we can’t figure this out though, I am sure we can deal with Clarissa the best way we know how,” Idric tries to conclude the topic with reassurance.

“I’m sure she won’t see us coming!” Medli remains smiling, doing so properly for the first time since this mess started. Though, that smile almost breaks as the weight of the paper in her hand hits her again. “I suppose I should get rid of this.”

“Give it to me? I want to see what we’re up against anyway,” His tone refuses to force the decision, instead he sits back on the bed, cocking his head in anticipation. She hesitates for a moment, having not sure what might be in this one; but hands it over anyway.

He reads it slowly, each of his features filling back up with anger. The second the last line is read, he sets the letter alight, attempting to burn away his seethe with the ink. Surprisingly though, it seems to work, and he smirks once more.

“That was certainly a read,” He begins. “I— I’ll go find an old friend of mine, and with their help, we will be able to go over some word choices and disputable phrases, then I am sure she’ll apologise, and we can be on our way.” Idric’s intonation falls into a level of clarity and over-pronunciation that only comes with the desperate need to hide one’s anger.

Medli, on the other hand, only has one thought.

“Do you think they will be able to find her?” Her lips can barely keep up as the words fall from her mouth.

“I’ve never known them to fail before,” He smirks reassuringly.

“Well, that’s nice at least,” She pauses, finally seeing the end of this. “Do you want me to destroy the other letters too?”

“Let me take a look at those too - if that’s okay? It’s important to know one’s public perception after all,” He lets out a singular chewed-up breath posing as a laugh.

Medli rushes off to their old table, she returns holding her bag and awkwardly begins to dig through it. She pulls out a tied stack of letters and hands them to Idric. He throws them into his coat, trying his best to not let the thickness and potential number take too much of his attention.

“You didn’t need to keep this from me, you know? We’re a team as much as you want us to be,” He offers with a soft gesture.

“I didn’t mean too. I was just scared when the first one came and by the time that I stopped being scared of that one, there was already three more and then that felt a lot harder to explain,” She almost says every word at once and can’t help but look relieved when realising they were in the right order.

“You’re a bard Medli, you’ll pick all this up as we go. Explaining the bizarre and traumatic is part of the job.”

Medli laughs a little.

“Can’t I just play violin?”

“Absolutely not.”

#original writing #my writing #friend's writing #medli #idric ba'lor #d&d #dungeons and dragons #tw: implied abuse #tw: implied self-harm #tw: implied school related trauma

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percywinchester27 · 5 years ago

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About a boy (Part-3)

Word count: 3.3K

Warning: Suspense, feels, mention of physical abuse and bullying

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: Many thanks to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this story. I love you guys <3

Part 1 Part 2

Cas prayed. Every day. He woke up each morning, sat on the bed with his feet folded Indian style and hands joined in a Namaste. Dean would just look up from his bunk and there he would be meditating on the top in his boxers and a loose tank, eyes closed, back ramrod straight. It was funny, Dean actually cracked a smile.

For the next few days he stuck to Cas. Going around with him to the school which was about a mile and a half away, and then back. Cas didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy Dean's company. Dean would be lying if he said he had been used to something like that before.

On the outside, it looked like Cas was taking him around the place, showing him the ropes and such, but in the few minutes they managed to snatch away from the prying eye, they were always plotting.

Dean realized one thing. It was hard. Finding Sam was going to be hard as hell. Even harder than what he thought it was going to be.

Sam had been 6 months old when he was thrown into an orphanage, and as Cas pointed out, it might have been completely another orphanage. He might have been transferred here and it could be as recent as a couple of months ago or as old as a few years.

Dean was also curious about his fellow roommates. Cas said they were nice boys, but Dean had his reservations. Gabriel, or Gabe, as Cas called him, was loud and obnoxious, he had the cheesy behavior, but his whiskey colored eyes were always full of mischief, like he knew something about you that you didn't know yourself. His brown hair was on the longer side, and his smile dripped cunningness. Gabriel's bed was always littered with chocolate wrappers. Even though it was against the rules to get stuff like that from outside, no one seemed to rat Gabriel out. It was as Cas had said, he had one up on everyone. Gabriel didn't show any particular interest in wanting to get to know Dean, and Dean was thankful for that. Gabriel smelled trouble, and he didn't want any of it.

The other roommate was silent and kept to himself, but that made Dean even more wary of him. Benny wasn't in the face like Gabe, but he was just there, observing everything quietly. It was unsettling, like everything he did was being watched, was being noted. To add to that, he never seemed to sleep… like some sort of a vampire. It was disconcerting enough that he was now confiding everything in Cas when he had promised himself that this was going to be his own battle to fight. Now he had gone ahead and included Cas in it.

But, boy, it relieving.

Cas was just as excited to find Sam. He went over the whole management system with Dean. The place was owned by a Styne family. The head, Eldon, barely ever showed, about twice or thrice in a year. Andy was the one who managed everything. He knew that Michael and his little parade of goons were up to something, but as long as everyone remained scared of Michael, it maintained the place in order, so he turned a blind eye towards that, until something brought it to glaring attention, like Gabriel's little stunt the other day would have.

In the coming week, Dean learnt the hierarchy. Michael's two main supports were Gary and Raphael. Cas had warned him to not cross paths with them, because after what had happened, they wouldn't waste a second before ratting him out.

It was Cas' brilliant plan to sneak into the record room in the evening when everyone was out in the grounds playing and having fun. It would have worked well, but just as they were about to sneak into the record room, Andy called out to them.

"Winchester!"

Dean stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes, praying that he wouldn't get caught.

"What're you doing here?" Then Andy realised that Dean wasn't alone. "You're hanging out with Castiel?"

"Is that a bad thing?" Cas asked, voice feebly brave.

Andy smirked. "Not really. Didn't expect you to hang out is all. What're you doing inside at this time?"

"Thought I'd take Dean around the library," Cas managed, effortlessly.

The older man eyed them, especially Cas, then shrugged. "Fine, if you're gonna nerd out together. Just lock the door when you're done. I'm not waiting back till you two are done. I have a hot date."

That was too much information, but the moment Andy turned, Dean exchanged an excited look with his friend. They were alone now.

Ascertaining that Andy was truly gone, the two of them rushed to the record room and shut the door behind them, facing the rows and rows of filing.

"This is going to take ages, isn't it?" Dean mumbled.

A corner of Cas' mouth pulled down. "Guess so."

They set to work anyway, trying to figure out the system of filing. After half an hour of going through the pile, Dean finally said out loud what was on his mind. "Why did Andy sound like he wasn't expecting me to hang out with you?"

Cas wasn't visible to Dean, as he was working on the rack after his, but his hushed voice was still audible. "Let's just say I'm not the most sought out kid here."

"What does that mean?"

A sigh.

"This place is like the jungle. Survival of the fittest and all that… You look like you could fit right in with the predators."

What Cas meant was pretty clear. Dean gave off that vibe, what with the sullen looks and his dad's overlarge leather jacket, he would be expected to hang out with idiots like Michael and his gang. He would be expected to give in to their stupid initiation test, lick Michael's ass and raise to the ranks of the bullies instead of being bullied.

"I'm the nerd of sorts. I let people be," Cas added.

Something still didn't add up. From what Dean had seen, Cas wasn't a bully, but he wasn't bullied either.

"That first night," Dean said slowly, weighing his words, "Michael could have easily hurt you, or his guy Gary, instead they just restrained you and shoved you around. Why?"

Another sigh. Apparently Dean was asking all the questions that Cas didn't want to answer… but he did anyway.

"Michael and I… Well, we go back a long way. We come from the same orphanage. I've known him as long as I remember… He's the closest thing that I have to a…"

"Brother," Dean completed. The word hung awkwardly between them.

"He's not a bad person," Cas said, "Just angry and bitter. Life hasn't been fair to him."

Who had life been fair to? Dean thought. If that had been the case, none of the 712 boys would be rotting here at the home. He didn't say that out loud though.

"I figured it out!" Cas exclaimed, all of a sudden. "I figured out the filing system!"

He bent around the rack to see Dean, blue eyes wide with excitement. "These are stacked according to the year. That means the one who came first, the box would be at the very end."

"Great!" Dean groaned. "Now we have to find out when Sam got put into this one, too."

*******************************

It took more than a couple of weeks.

Mostly because Andy didn't have a date everyday to abandon his post, but also because Dean had his share of duties, too. The cleaning, the washing, the babysitting duties for the little kids.

Sometimes, Gary and Raphael would cross him in the corridors, a few more of the older kids would give him looks, but for the most part everyone just ignored him. Who was he but another sheep added to an overly large flock? No one cared.

He quickly realised one thing though, if it hadn't been for Cas, it would have been a lonely existence. Gabriel, he learned, had been from the same orphanage as Cas, too. They had been transferred here about 8 years back. Benny was new, but Benny also didn't care. The place could go down in a tornado and he still wouldn't care.

Through the chores, the school and the scheming, Dean couldn't help but look around the kids bunking on the 4th floor, searching for eyes that looked like his, a gait like his or a crooked smile here and there. There were at least 100 of them aged 11 to 14. How was he ever going to find Sam.

"Tell me what you remember about him most clearly?" Cas asked one evening as he dumped the contents of pale brown box on the floor of the record room.

Dean thought for a second before replying. "I think it's the smile."

"Smile?" Cas asked pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah. I'd tell him that we could practice ball when he grew up and he'd recognize my voice and smile."

That wasn't a helpful detail. Cas knew all the kids, but that didn't help if Dean couldn't remember how to pinpoint it. There had to be something distinctive about him that Dean could remember. Something that would help.

"Tell you what? If you keep going at it, you'll remember something helpful I'm sure."

The comment was encouraging but Dean wasn't sure if he had it in him.

"So, what's your story?" Dean asked, more to distract Cas from the conversation.

"My story?"

"Yeah."

Cas scratched his black hair. "There is nothing to it. My memory begins in an orphanage. Seems like my folks weren't interested in me from the get go."

Must be hard, Dean thought, to know that you were never loved enough. Sure he had to deal with the searing pain of losing his mom and dad like that, but at least he knew it in his bones that they had loved him. Did that make losing them worse? Probably. But was the possibility of love better than never having been loved at all?

"So who gave you your name?"

Cas surprised Dean by grinning sheepishly. "Someone at the old orphanage was a bible freak. They named all the kids after angels. Michael, Rapahel, Gabriel, Castiel… see where this is going? Basically, if you find a biblical name around here, you know where the kid came from, yeah? Kind of makes the distinction easy. Right, Dean… Dean?"

Dean had gone shock still.

"Dean, you okay?"

"How old were you when you came here?" Dean asked, urgently, dread growing in his chest.

"4 months," Cas answered, "We found my file the other day, didn't we?"

"Yes! But we went through all the files from that year and we didn't find Gabriel's. He was put in the same year, too. That means-"

"There are missing records?" Cas completed, voice hollow.

Dean stumbled back into the cabinet, the file he was holding slipping out of his hand. If Sam's records were misplaced, they could go through these files their whole life and never find Sam.

"Don't give up, Dean," Cas whispered, but the words fell on deaf ears. He should have known that this was too good to be true, too easy. As if just by looking at all these folders he was supposed to find his brother.

As if after everything, things were just going to go back to normal.

Dean skipped dinner that night. Cas called him, but he just pretended to be asleep, till Cas had gone away. The darkness of the room wasn't enough to shroud the hopelessness that he felt within. What was he doing in this alien place. Dean didn't belong here. He missed the dry heat of the place that he thought of as home, now. Missed the stains of dark grease, the damn smell of a garage on rainy thundering nights.

It was thundering that night, too.

The sky cracked and lightening thundered in the dark sky. Dean held on to the crib tighter.

"Shhhh… Sammy," he said running his fingers over his brothers forehead. "It's gonna be alright."

"C'mon, let's say goodnight to your brother," his mom reminded him lovingly from behind as she turned the lights off.

Dean leaned over and kissed Sam on his forehead. "Night, Sam."

"Good night, love," his mom said, lightly brushing Sam's brown hair back, and following Dean's suit and kissing him, too. Dean pushed back into her. He loved the way his mom smelled. Tangy like apples.

"Hey, Dean."

Dean turned to see his dad standing in the doorway, a light smile playing on his lips. Dean immediately rushed over and threw himself at him. "Daddy!"

His dad scooped Dean up. "Hey buddy!" Then he raised his hand, which Dean high-fived.

"So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"

Dean turned back to look and his little brother, then shook his head, laughing. "No, Daddy."

Dad laughed. "I don't think so, either."

Just then mom passed them both, ruffling his hair. "You got him?" She asked dad.

"I got him," dad winked at Dean, then looked over at Sammy. "Sweet dreams, Sam."

He's asleep soon. Then awake. Too suddenly.

His mom screamed.

"No! Mary!" His dad yelled "No!"

Dean jumped out of bed and ran towards the noise. His mom and dad sounded scared. It was too warm… hot.

There was a fire in Sam's room, Dad was there… no mom.

"Dean!" His dad called.

"Daddy!"

His dad was scared, sweating and hurt. In his hand was a little bundle. Sammy.

He thrust Sam into Dean's hands, his back to the blazing fire. Dean's eyes were burning. He couldn't see mom.

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!"

Dad pushed him hard, towards the stairs. He held Sam tightly and made a run for it, till he was outside the door and into the lawn.

"It's okay, Sammy," he whispered. "I gotcha."

Then the window blasted and the whole house exploded in fire.

Dean sat up bolt in his bed, sweating, heart trying to beat out of his chest. He blinked his eyes not just to be rid of the moisture there but also to figure out where the hell he was. It took a couple of seconds, but then it all came to him. He was at a boys' home. Cas was snoring lightly above him. Gabriel not so lightly next to him.

The tiny digital clock on the rickety table read 00:17.

Dean tried to breathe normally, but gave up after a couple of minutes. He wasn't going to get any peace with the rate at which his heart was going, or how clammy he suddenly felt. The very dread he had been trying to run away from all evening, had finally caught up with him and how.

Denial was a crappy coping mechanism. He knew that, he had always known that. But what else did he have?

Getting up, he made his way to the bathrooms at the very end of the corridor, and splashed water on his face. Dean immediately felt a little better. The cold water seemed to help with frayed nerves. So, he splashed his face once more, running the water over his hands too. Not knowing what else to do, he strolled along the long passageway and came to rest in front of the staircase grill that locked everyone on to the floor. The light breeze coming in from the window opposite to the grill was calming. Dean slid down along the length of the grill to the floor, staring up at the dark sky, barely illuminated by the crescent shaped moon.

"Can't fall asleep?" The quiet voice made him jump out of his skin.

"What the fuck!" Dean swore, his barely in control heartbeat accelerating again, as he tried to look for the person in the dark.

"Sorry," the voice apologized sincerely. "I didn't mean to scare you or anything."

Dean squinted in the darkness, finally spotting the person. On the other side of the grill, on the opposite end from him was another shadow, mirroring his exact pose, huddled with his back against the grill.

"I can't sleep, either," the kid said, not deterred by Dean's lack of response. "Still, sorry for creeping up on you."

"That's okay," Dean said, not wanting to give away that he actually had been frightened.

"You new?"

Dean shrugged, then remembered it was actually too dark to see anything. "Yeah."

"It can be hard," the boy said. "Lot of new admits find it tough to adjust."

Was the kid patronising him?

"Not much of a talker, I see," said the kid. "I'm gonna shut up now."

It made Dean smirk despite himself. "What're you doing up?"

The voice perked up at some response. "I got a math Olympiad, tomorrow. I suck at it."

"You're up because you're nervous about a silly test?"

It brought Dean up short. It shocked him that there were kids here with normal fears, like tests and exams. Not everyone was on a mission to find long lost brothers. How stupid of him to just overlook that? It made him feel out of place.

"Like you've never been worried about an exam before? And it’s not a silly test, It could be my one way ticket into a University." He'd offended the kid. Must be what? Around 11 or 12 years of age. Couldn't be less than that since he bunked on the 4th floor.

"You're just like the other big guys," the kid muttered.

"It's not like that," Dean said. "I'm just distracted." Why was he explaining this to the kid anyway?

"That's fine," came the reply, chirpy again, apparently satisfied with Dean's half-hearted explanation. "I know the sort of crap that goes on up on your floor."

"Know something about that, huh?"

"Everyone does."

Fair enough. "I'm not a favourite," Dean warned. "It'd be better for you to not be found chumming up with me."

"I don't care." The answer was firm. steely. "I hate bullies."

The word 'hate' somehow sounded harsh coming from a soft voice like that. Dean had to raise an eyebrow.

They sat in silence for a while. Dean let his mind wander through all that had happened today. Sam's smile kept invading his mind. His light eyes, his brown hair.

"Brown hair!" Dean yelped.

"What?"

"Nothing," Dean said, more to himself than the kid. "He had brown hair." Like their dad's… lighter, but still definitely brown.

Dean couldn't give up now. Not when he was already in here. He couldn't stop looking for Sam. If he didn't give it his best shot, he'd regret it all his life. He would go through every damn file, tear the place apart if it means that he could find his brother again.

"Are you alright?" The voice on the other side sounded vaguely concerned, as if not anxious about Dean per se, but doubting his mental health.

Dean didn't care. At last, he could actually breathe. Freely.

"Hey, kid, thanks!"

"For what?" Perplexed.

"Nothing," Dean almost grinned. "Good luck with your test… uh Olympiad tomorrow," he said, getting up and dusting his clothes.

"Thanks, I guess?" The voice trailed behind him as Dean walked back to his room. He fell on the bed fully clothed.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and he would try again… and again and again till he succeeded.

******************************

A/N 2: I really really hope y’all like this story!! Please let me know what you think… the feedback is what keeps me going :)

If you wanna be tagged, please send me an ask

About a Boy taglist:

@sdavid09 @deanssweetheart23 @blacktithe7 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @cosicas-cuquis @chalicia @anathewierdo @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectteamfreewill @firefly124-writing @spnbaby-67 @hoboal87 @rizlow1 @donnaintx @starmission @gh0stgurl @tftumblin @emily-a-c11 @ericaprice2008 @jotink78 @charliebradbury1104 @ohgodwhybloggg @i-dont-get-cold @bobbie3939

#dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #Ana writes Dean #Ana writes aab #aab 3 #anawrites #anawritesspn #q

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artemismoon12writes · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Five Meetings

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 2, Day 6- Met as Kids The First Time the Serendipity Hill Hunters met Dwight, and the first time he met one of them.

March 3rd, 1995

Dwight was the first person Lucas ever met. Well, the only one that mattered. Great Aunt Ingrid doesn’t count as someone worth meeting. Lucas knew he met Dwight before he could even remember what remembering was. He was smaller, fluffy haired, and was fussy. Lucas’s mother told him he had never been a fussy baby; he even shared his toys! Dwight shared as well, but he made sure his stuff didn’t get broken- keeping a sharp look on it, fascinated with every bright colour and shiny edge, wailing when it was out of sight. Lucas simply marvelled when it was reintroduced. The difference in philosophy made games more, creative.

Picture two babies, too early to even speak, simply throwing rocks at each other until they realized maybe that might hurt. That was Dwight and Lucas.

The two of them seemed to take great pleasure each time they drove an adult up the wall. Agatha and her cousin drove themselves to distraction trying to keep their sons entertained and alive. Mostly, they succeed. Each time the boys found a new hiding spot, the nannies and their mothers searched frantically for the babies. Often times, Lucas led Dwight into fruit baskets, cupboards, and a notable incident where they hid in the washing machine for two hours- giggling and passing a bowl of cheerios.

Their mothers couldn’t help but love them. Their nannies asked for a raise.

September 1st, 2001

Sadie knew lots of people. There was Steven from the grocery store; Yolanda delivered the paper; and Carlson Mackenzie was the security guard at the edge of Serendipity Hill who let them in and out to go to school. Knowing lots of people didn’t mean she could not be fascinated by the boy next to her in St. Ignatius. Mrs. MacPherson sorted boy-girl-boy-girl seating; which got her next to the boy with the pencil case covered in lightning bolt stickers. He looked like the type of boy her mama would pinch sharply, and order to eat three extra empanadas before he fell over in a stiff breeze. What a stiff breeze was, Sadie’s mama would not say.

“I like your stickers Tommy.” Sadie said, treating the boy with a curious look.

“My name’s Dwight.” He said, huffing.

“You’re lying.” She said, pointing. “The name tag on your desk says Thomas.”

“Only my mom is allowed to call me Thomas. I like Dwight better.”

“You can’t just rename yourself!” Sadie said, leaning back scandalised.

“Can too! See?” He said, proudly flipping the pencil case around to show his name in (presumably) his own shaky handwriting. “Besides, it’s my middle name anyways. When we get confirmed I’ll choose an even better third name so no one will ever remember I was a Thomas.”

“Okay then.” She said, contemplating. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Sadie.” She said, sticking out her hand. “You’re going to tell me where you got those stickers, and then I’m going to find you an even better-even better third name.”

He shook it. They hadn’t learnt about cooties yet, and by the time they did they’d already be friends.

September 4th, 2004

New neighbourhood, new school, new day. Morgan ran his hand over his freshly shaved hair, no more letters home about ‘inappropriate’ school attire. He didn’t want trouble. If everyone would just leave him alone and let him read he’d be fine, but it was always them who seemed to find things wrong. He didn’t want to play soccer, or football, or four square; he didn’t want to learn about histories of evil people; he didn’t want to sit through liars in front of the chapel, when his grandmother had told him the only reason he was here with the nuns was the other private school was a ‘bad school’- public was even worse. He had to believe they were worse.

Every new grade was more of the same mean kids forcing their mean opinions onto him. Taking his glasses, stealing his books, calling him a nerd. It was tiring. He lost half a binder of rare Digimon cards to that stupidity (if his mom could read his mind….)

Well, luck would happen that he found someone even more troublesome than him.

“We’re friends! I was helping her with her sweater!”

“Sister Cathy, he’s telling the truth!”

“Missy, you’ll be thanking me when you’re older. Boys only one thing, and before you know it they’ll have you ruined!” One of the staff had a white- and god was he white- boy by the ear, intent on dragging him away. A darker girl with brown hair stood next to the row of lockers, her school sweater rumpled and backwards. “You’re coming with me to the Chaplin’s office to reflect upon your behaviour!”

The girl looked around, frustrated and angry as the plain-clothesed nun dragged her friend away. Her eyes met Morgan’s; she was asking for help. He sighed. Hopefully this wouldn’t backfire.

“Um, Sister? I saw the whole thing. They’re telling the truth.” Morgan spoke up, raising his hand like he was still in class.

She whirled about. “What?”

Morgan stepped back, looking back to the girl. Her eyes were wide and expectant.

“Um, he was just helping her with her sweater. It’s not anything bad.” He paused. “And I’m not lying about it, because if I was then I’d go to hell right? I don’t want that.”

She paused, releasing her grip on the boy’s ear. She looked between the three of them. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you Thomas Perry.”

The nun stalked off, leaving the girl to sigh in relief. The boy only rubbed his abused ear and mutter, “Dwight! My name is Dwight.”

“Thank you!” The girl said, turning to Morgan. “It means a lot! His mom would kill him if he got sent to the Chaplin on the first day of school.”

“Um no problem.” Morgan said awkwardly, unsure of how to respond as the two of them went right back to pulling at the girl’s sweater. “Uh, was I really lying then?”

The two flushed. “NO!”

She dug up under the sweater, seemingly finding what she was looking for and just tearing the fabric. Her hand reappeared with a safety pin which let the slack back into the sweater. “I put it on wrong when I got it out of my locker and it snagged on the pin. Dwight was helping me without ripping it.”

“But you just ripped it, the ribbon charm only works if it stays pinned.” Dwight complained, leaning back against the lockers.

“We’ll redo it.” She assured him, patting his shoulder. “Hey, new kid what’s your name?”

“Morgan Powell.” He found himself saying. “I just moved into Serendipity Hill this year.”

“Oh no way!” She said excited. “I’m Sadie Moore, this is Dwight Perry. We live in Serendipity Hill as well. You must be the new kid in the old Richards house! I knew I read the cards right last week!”

“Cards?” Morgan asked.

“I’m learning Tarot. I’ll teach you!” She said excitedly. “Do you want to sit at our table at Lunch? We’re planning how to get Dwight’s cousin Lucas to tell us all about if the Grade 6 Class really is haunted by Father Rodriguez’ ghost.”

Morgan smiled. “I’d like that.” He meant it.

February 14th, 2011

Laura Bancroft didn’t have time to glare at Dwight Houston; she was worrying about bigger things than a boy who couldn’t even apologize when he ran into her.

“Did you see that?” She hissed, nodding to the pair she’d been following around. Justin said he was one of their new Hanovers. She didn’t trust him. She’d heard rumours about Houston, he had to sense something wrong with the kid.

“Yeah.” Dwight sounded unsure. Not helpful. “Do you know him?”

“Julian Larson, if the talking fangirls are to be trusted.” She zeroed in on her target, hiding behind the table to avoid detection. “That boy over there, he’s Adam. My brother says he’s a Hanover like him.”

“Well don’t you think he’s a little strange, that Adam guy…” Dwight started.

Laura could have cheered. Yes! Excellent! He got it. Dwight glanced back to her, “And I don’t expect you’d understand, coming from Windsor we-”

She cut him off. “You don’t know many Hanovers do you?”

This just might work.

July 23rd, 2001

“Tommy, sweetie, do you want to hold him?” His mother whispered, holding the bundle in her arms.

Dwight looked at the baby, then back to his mother. “Can I?”

He didn’t know if he could. He was so small. What if he broke him?

“Go on kiddo,” his dad said, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just support his head…”

Dwight felt nervous. This was his baby brother. Brothers were special, babies were special- especially little ones. They would look up to you, and love you, and everything you did was supposed to make sure they didn’t have a bad life ever.

His father helped his mom reach out, placing the bulky blankets into his arms. She was tired, but Dwight wasn’t. Maybe he could help by holding the baby?

His brother was tiny. He didn’t know anything could be this tiny. He had wide eyes the same colour as Dwight’s. Other than that, he couldn’t see much of the baby, making gurgling noises up at him.

“Hi Alan.” Dwight said solemnly, remembering his dad was there and he expected him to be a big boy. “I’m your brother Thomas. It’s good to meet you.”

“You don’t have to be so serious sweetie.” His mom said, hair stuck to her forehead even as she laughed softly.

“He’s being responsible Agatha, I think it’s precious.” His dad said, sitting on the end of the bed; a fond expression at the group of them.

Dwight held on, not allowing his arms to tire even though Alan was heavier than he looked. “I’ll teach you all the best games, and Luke and I will show you all the best hiding spots, and oh! I’ll never let anyone hurt you ‘cause that’s what big brothers do. They protect their little brothers.”

He pressed a kiss to Alan’s forehead, “I promise.”

#daltonficbigbang2020 #daltonfic #oneshot #gen #brotp #owie #dwight houston #shh #lucas walters #sadie moore #morgan powell #alan houston #agatha houston #mr perry #artemiswrites

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daely-trans-life · 4 years ago

Text

Thoughts on gender and other matters (letter to a friend)

Dearest [Friend],

I finally got around to writing this email, god knows it's long overdue.

You've asked me to explain what lead me to the realisation that I might be transgender and well, that's a larger subject than what I can summarise in a text message (in fact this email might turn into a novel, in which case I'm very sorry), so here we go.

I can see how from an outside point of view it might come as a surprise, albeit for me this realisation is something that's been long in the making... Probably ever since I became aware of the concept of gender itself.

To begin with, I need to explain a little bit about the culture I was raised in, because it ties into the delay significantly. It has to do with the societal expectations as much as the language... Hungarian has no gender markers for words and doesn't use gendered pronouns at all, which also means that in a way, the concept itself is way less defined and pronounced in the cultural context. That, coupled with the strict and rigid code of conduct regarding politeness and formality means that it's generally not discussed in society on any level, neither in family, between friends nor in public education.

It's a binary concept that's dependent on one's genetic makeup and primary sexual characteristics that is assigned at birth and never discussed further. It doesn't involve choice or exploration, and it's not viewed as a spectrum the same way as it is customary in Western countries. But at the same time, traditional gender roles are built into society on every level, and while it's never mentioned, it's enforced and engraved in people way stronger than it is in for example Denmark.

So while as a teen/young adult, I could feel I didn't fit into the box of "girl" or "woman" the way others around me did, I had no vocabulary to describe my experience, and I definitely didn't have a platform for exploring it. On the few occasions when I mentioned it to some friends that I kind of view myself as both a man and a woman or maybe neither, the general answer was something to the effect of "well no shit?! are we meant to be surprised by this?", which was both baffling and very validating at the same time.

And then I moved out of the country and a whole new world of concepts and options and spectra opened up to me, where I also had the opportunity to learn more about my identity when it came to gender and sexuality. I quickly discovered that me not being straight was definitely a thing, and I learnt about labels that finally fit my experience and I found a community that welcomed me and that had people similar to myself in it. And that was all great, but it also taught me that gender was a Thing, and not only that, but it also had way more to it than just binary man and woman.

And I went down that rabbit hole hard. I started identifying as non-binary, tried on a lot of labels and pronouns, some really out there ones too, mostly privately, while trying to find the one that felt right. And of course in the meantime I've met and learnt about trans people, and it kind of hit me how that specific experience resonated with me. But of course, I couldn't just BE a guy... Could I?

Well, no, of course not! Because I had parents that raised me as their daughter, I had a husband who married me to be his wife, and I had always been presented and perceived as a woman... It's not like I could just uproot my entire identity and claim a new one just because it would make me happy... I had others to think of and consequences to dread, and in general, I was too fucked up anyway to really be concerned with something like what noise people make to address me or what concept do they identify me with. So I buried the question deep, never touching it, because as long as I wasn't looking, it didn't hurt and I didn't get confused. And this worked for a while, until it obviously didn't.

And then years had passed and a few things happened. For one, I met my other partner, who also identifies as non-binary and who is way more into the queer aspects of life than my husband. And with Them, I got to talk about the things that have always bothered me and that I previously was unable to talk about. They taught me the language to express myself, not only with words but also with presentation. And while confined in the safety of our shared home, I've stepped onto the Rocky Road of Recovery, that involved a lot of mental healthcare, therapy, exploration and coming to terms with my identity in more than one way.

In a way, unraveling the tangle of issues I've been carrying around helped a lot too. I've been living with the vague sense of "there is something wrong with me" for so long that it just became the everyday reality of my life, and I kind of accepted that all the things I now know are symptoms of certain conditions, were just how life was supposed to be, that the world was supposed to be this hostile, low-key but always uncomfortable place with occasional bursts of horrible pain. And through all that, I still held myself to the expectations I was presented with by my upbringing, because throughout my life, whenever I tried to ask for help in any way, I was generally met with blame and dismissal, and I was taught that the only option was to bite my tongue and power through. So I bit down and did what I could and every time I broke down, I just dug my heels in and kept going until one day I couldn't go on anymore.

And in a way, this was a blessing. Because finally, at the point where I completely gave up, I was presented with an abundance of care and actual help I've never received before. I went to psychiatry, I got my diagnoses, I got a social worker to help me, I got a therapist, and a damn good one for that, and I got the time to heal and figure myself out without having to worry about things like where I was going to live or what I was going to eat. And lo and behold, things started getting better. Of course, a year of therapy cannot undo 20 years of trauma and abuse, I didn't expect it to either, but it gave me tools to work with, ways to address and manage my symptoms and space to explore ways in which I could be happier, healthier and more stable than I've ever been before.

I'm on a good path, and in a good place now. I'm engaged to my partner, still happily married to my husband and we live in a loving, if a bit crooked family in a beautiful place at the countryside. For the first time I'm hopeful about the future and I feel like I have realistic expectations about my life and what I would be able to make of it. Of course there is still a lot of work to be done and a lot of ways I wish to improve, but these dreams had finally stopped being just that, and slowly morphed into goals, things I could actually achieve and I can see ways in which to do so.

And so, now that happiness suddenly became a viable option, I started wondering about the questions of identity again, and well... I guess I just felt like my time has finally come. I'm almost thirty. Yeah, that's a bit late compared to many who had this figured out by their late teens, but hey, I'm young, I have most of my adult life ahead of me! And I finally have the space and the support network that gives me enough confidence to pursue my true identity and everything that comes with that.

I'm taking it slowly though. It's scary as hell, and it's a huge step, and I still have a million questions and a million obstacles to overcome. But if my journey so far had taught me anything, that is that no decision is irreversible, there is no such thing as too late to change things, and that fear is never a good enough reason not to do what's right for you. I'm at square one right now, and I don't know if this is the path I'll stay on forever, but I feel like I owe myself to at least try. If I never committed to anything just because it might not last forever, I wouldn't be having the amazing life I have today, if I was even still alive.

So that's where I stand. Sorry about the insanely long ramblings, now you know everything you never wished to know about my inner workings, but I don't quite know how to explain this in any other way than the extremely winded one.

I miss you. I wish we could hang out and I could be, you know, not an absolute wreck for once :D I swear I'm a way funner person these days than I was when we used to hang out.

Lots of love,

Dae

P.s.: I guess this DID turn into a novel, sorry about that again! :$ xoxo

#open letter #explaining gender is long and complicated #one step at a time #positivity

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