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mapofthemazeinthemirror · 1 year ago

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Hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else

Warnings: gender neutral reader, but for Taehyun's reader is mentioned to have a boyfriend. I should probably mention that when I write hybrids, I don't really picture people with animal features like ears and tails, just animal senses and behaviours? That should help this make more sense. This could also work for werewolves if you prefer to imagine it that way!

Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for months, it kept getting pushed back by other ideas. So glad to get it out. Please let me know which is your favourite scenario!

☆ gender neutral reader

Soobin

You were standing in the kitchen filling the sink with water to start the dishes when you heard the front door. It was game night; the night your boyfriend and his friends ordered in dinner and hogged the TV to play games until they wore each other out, or on some occasions, to tears. So you didn't mind doing the dishes tonight, even though it was technically Soobin’s turn.

"Yah, what's that smell?”

You turned to see Soobin and Beomgyu appear in the kitchen, bags from the convenience store slung over Beomgyu’s shoulder, a telltale sign that he'd lost at rock paper scissors. “Hi guys.”

"Is someone here?" Soobin asked, glancing down the hallway. You shook your head and he immediately dropped his confused expression, his face scrunching in disgust. “Then what smells like dog?”

"I don't... oh. It's probably my new boss, we had a meeting today." After all the time you'd been with Soobin, all the time you'd spent around his friends, you were still not that used to this whole thing. You couldn't always spot their kind, and sometimes you forgot about your boyfriend's intense senses, though you had gotten better since you started dating.

Beomgyu placed the bags atop the counter and scratched the back of his head. "The other guys will be here in a minute, so..." He looked up at Soobin who met his eyes.

This was another thing that happened often. It was like they could just lock eyes and know what the other was thinking without saying a word. The two seemed to finish their silent conversing, turning back to you, matching grins growing on their faces. Your eyes darted between the two of them, trying to get a clue as to what you were left out of the loop about, before they were coming at you. Sandwiching you between them, they both began rubbing their cheeks against yours, scenting you as you squirmed.

"Is this what you're going to smell like every day now?" Soobin asked into your hair.

Beomgyu was finding this funny, his laughter in your ear as you whined in complaint. "You reek! Maybe it's time to find a new job."

Once they were satisfied with their work, they stood back, chuckling at how mussed up your hair was from their handiwork. You pouted up at them and they were even more amused.

The doorbell rang before Yeonjun let himself in, the door still being unlocked. He waltzed into the kitchen with Taehyun in tow. "Who's ready to get whoop-" his face fell and his eyes began to search the floor, before looking between you and Soobin, brows furrowed. "Did you guys get a dog or something?"

Before Beomgyu or Soobin could do anything except smirk at you, you were turning on your heel and announcing that you were going to take a shower.

Yeonjun

When he arrives home, straight away his senses hone in on your jacket hanging over the porch railing, soaking wet—yet still he can smell what you've tried to erase. As soon as you hear his key in the door you’re there explaining, before he can utter a single word.

"This guy at the bus stop was all over me. I had to get a different bus so he wouldn’t be with me on the way here."

He stops midway through taking off his own coat, the shoulders of the garment hanging at his elbows. You hear the strain in his voice, see the fervor flash through his eyes. "What do you mean all over you?"

"He put his arm around me. He kept putting his face close to my ear to ask me questions… but-but I washed my hair when I got home. I washed my jacket twice but I wasn't sure if it would still get to you, so l left it outside. I'm sorry."

His expression faded as he relaxed a little. Still he kept his concentration solely on you as he pulled his hands from his sleeves and hung the coat up. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Did he do anything else, anything more? Are you okay?"

You sighed tiredly, glad Yeonjun was home and you could have dinner and relax together and put the day behind you. “No, I’m fine.”

Stepping forward, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”

Beomgyu

Beomgyu stepped out of the cool night air and into the small store you worked in. He always picks you up when you work the night shift, preferring to drive you home than you taking the bus so late.

You haven't yet noticed his presence, despite the place being empty, busy tidying the shop for closing. As he slinks over to you, you reach up on your tip toes to put something away on a high shelf, and he means to put his arms around you to surprise, but something made him stop short behind you.

"Not again," he says, making you jump out of your skin.

"Gyu!" you yelp. "Don't do that!"

He pouts. "You smell like not you."

Pulling the fabric of your shirt to your nose and inhaling, you shake your head. "I don't smell anything."

You move off to the front desk, Beomgyu trailing behind, still complaining. "Of course you don't smell it, you pure-bred human—" and when you send him a look, he adds, "—affectionately. You just have to take my word for it."

He watches as you clock out and untie the apron from your waist, looking up at him tiredly. "Let's just go home, okay?"

He nods, and after turning off the lights and locking the doors, you make the short walk to his car. It's still warm inside, and it's such a relief to sit down after hours on your feet. You let your head rest back against the seat and look up at your boyfriend as he puts the key in the ignition.

"Thank you," you say tiredly.

As he looks over at you, he grabs something from the mirror and holds it out to you. Taking it from him, you look down to inspect what you've been given—his car air freshener. "You're welcome."

Taehyun

Taehyun couldn't hide his smile as he opened the door, until he got a whiff of something he didn't like. "Hey," he said, trying to act casual despite his senses waving tiny red flags at him. Yet, before he could stop himself, he was asking, "Where have you been?"

He watched as you took off your shoes, a hard task with your hands occupied with the pile of books and stationary you'd brought for studying, and usually Taehyun would be a gentleman and take them for you, but right now his mind was distracted.

"I stopped at my boyfriend's place. I'm sorry, am I late?"

Your boyfriend. He hadn't known you had a boyfriend... had he? He tried to rack brain, think of who you hung out with at school as he lead you into the house. "Oh... no, uhm..."

You walked across him to put your stuff down at the table and he got a stronger smell of the scent that hovered around you. Your boyfriend was definitely not completely human. He wondered if you knew. He wondered if he could compose himself enough to study with this smell hanging around.

"Let's get started," you were saying as you took a seat.

Taehyun tried to ignore his thoughts as he sat with you, listening to you talk about the assignment and dividing tasks. He did his best to focus on the words you were saying, your voice, your eyes, anything he could hold onto. But his instincts were strong. He stood up suddenly, your eyes following him, mouth forming a question. "Would you like anything? To eat or drink?"

Your expression cleared of confusion. "Sure, water would be nice."

Thankful to busy himself and get a break, he walked over to the kitchen and filled one glass, then another, breathing deeply all the while to try to calm his system. As he returned to the table, you were coming back from the front hall, suddenly without your jacket on. You reached out and took one of the glasses from him and sat down once more. He noticed that most of the scent was gone; he could bear being so close to you now.

"I really like that jacket you were wearing," he commented nonchalantly between discussions of school work.

You looked up from your notes with a smile. "Oh yeah? Me too. It's my boyfriend's, I'm always stealing it when I can."

He nodded, trying to keep the small smile from fading. It's okay, I'm okay, his mind was trying to console him. It probably wouldn't work out between the two of you anyway... right?

Huening Kai

He found you on the couch, laying on your side, tucked into a ball. “Hi hun,” he spoke softly, knowing this habit of yours meant something was up. He wasn’t going to bring up the scent he had picked up before he’d even opened the front door just yet.

You peeked up at him and he could tell you were exhausted. “Hi." His smile and his eyes were so warm that you immediately blurted out what was wrong without him needing to ask. "I went to a party.”

“Oh?" Your voice was so small and meak it tugged at Kai’s heart. "A party?”

“I didn’t want to go but my friends… they dragged me there, and I… I’m pretty sure everyone there was…” You pressed your lips together.

“Stinky,” he finished for you with a playful scrunch of his nose.

Nodding, you uncurled yourself to make room for your boyfriend on the couch. He sat and reached for your hand, holding it inside his big, warm one. His hands were always warm. He was always warm. It was one of your favourite things.

“It was kinda scary,” you admitted. At this, he tugged your hand towards him, a sign for you to come closer, and soon you were tucked into his lap.

"I know," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "I know it's still all new to you."

Humming in agreement, you allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. This was the place you felt safest in the whole world, even before you knew that the world was not as you had always thought.

Kai's voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you as he spoke. "Maybe a bath might help you relax."

You looked up at him, and he brought his face down to rub his nose against yours, his trademark show of affection with you. "Do I really smell that bad?"

The boy couldn't hide his smirk. "Just a little."

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun imagines #beomgyu imagines #boyfriend!txt #huening kai imagines #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #txt soft hours #taehyun imagines #hybrid txt #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #txt sfw #gender neutral reader

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theriverbeyond · 2 months ago

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Okay please help me I'm not good at the media literacy; did we ever find out who tried to smother Harrow at the beginning of HtN? With all the gaslighting (and gatekeeping and girlbossing) going on I genuinely have no idea what was happening there. Like,, I doubt it was Ianthe for some reason. Pls advice, i am lost

HIII sorry i was going to reply to this a few days ago and forgot whoops

so, in text, we never get specific confirmation of who tried to smother Harrow. What specifically happens there is also obscured by Harrow's own perception/ exaustion/ grief etc, because she doesn't investigate anything that we might want her to -- like figuring out WHOSE blood is on the nails embedded in the wall or doing any psycometry on the crates moved to cover it all, etc.

Anyway -> John logically makes sense, because he both has access to her and also later sics G1deon on her repeatably trying to get her to "activate" in the Lyctoral sense -- however I actually don't think it's so clear cut for the same reason: John doesn't do his own dirty work, generally, unless totally cornered, and attempting to kill her *himself* to trigger a fight/flight Lyctoral reaction is a BAD idea -- what if it works, and now she is a full Lyctor who knows the Emperor just tried to kill her? Also, at this point in the book it's only been a few days since Harrow ascended, and the lobotomy is fresh -- the 1st murder attempt is *before* Ianthe delivers the letters "upon coherence" -- so I'm not sure he'd be yet motivated to attempt murder vs waiting a couple more days and attempting some amateur trauma therapy.

I agree that Ianthe seems unlikely, because she wouldn't have approached Harrow in her murder mode. Also she wants Harrow to be in debt to her, and she wants Harrow to be alive. So she has no motivation. AND she's missing one arm & rejects the new one they graft onto her, so. Not really a pillow smotherer, IMO. Augustine and G1deon don't show up until the Mithraeum so they're out as suspects, and I am pretty sure Mercymorn WOULD attempt a mercy-killing but I don't think she'd use a pillow, and also I don't think she showed up until after Harrow achives coherence.

Like I think John is the most logical possibility of the avalible named cast, but TO ME it's not clear cut. I mean I guess John could have ordered a random cohort grunt to attempt murder but idk. If anyone else has opinions/thoughts pls lmk!!

#anyway ur not stupid for not getting it #it was not clearly explained in the book #ask #john gaius #harrowhark nonagesimus #tlt meta #tlt thoughts

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stilespeters · 1 year ago

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Rich Girl

series masterlist

pairing: Tate Langdon x f!reader

words: 4965

summary: The wealthy kinsley family moving into the murder house leads to: Cracks forming between family members, strange occurances in the house, and the feeling of being watched all the time.

warnings: underaged drinking, hints to stalking, some cursing

taglist: @iloveneilperry

song: rich girl by daryl hall and john oates

🎶 So far gone on your own. Well you could get along if you tried to be strong. But you'll never be strong cause you're a rich girl. And you've gone too far cause you know it don't matter anyway. You can rely on the old man's money...

October 21st 2014

It was always very clear that the west coast wasn't for you, yet here you were, stuck in LA traffic on a saturday morning. You had questioned if you had done anything horrific in your life to deserve to be here right now.

Olive was sitting next to you and was playing some Mario game on his nintendo, Frank was driving while whistling the lines of the horrible music on the radio and your mother was nervous. Usually she would touch her pearl necklace continuously in state of stress, however it was packed up in her suitcase in the back. Now she was staring blankly in front of her, biting her nails. It was a habit you inherited from her as you were plucking your own cuticles. However, instead of being nervous, you were bored out of your mind.

To try and kill time you had placed your headphones on and listened to your own music, but still, Nirvana couldn’t make time go by faster. It also didn't help that strands of hair were getting painfully stuck in your headphones and earrings every time you moved.

For hours since you left the hotel it was quiet in the car, until you heard Frank gasp. The whole ride from the hotel he had looked very neutral but now he broke the silence. “Oh my god.”

Your mom got out of her trance and turned her head, making her hat bump against the window. “What is it, honey?”

“I think I forgot to grab our charger from our hotel room,” Frank seemed visibly upset and your mom stopped biting her nails.

“It’s probably somewhere in the suitcases in the back.” She tried to reassure but Frank shook his head. “No, I remember plugging in the charger and thinking to myself I should unplug it and pack it in, but I forgot.”

"It's just a charger, honey. You got a backup charger and when we arrive at the house we'll buy another one." she was quick to come to a solution but Frank shook his head. He was always one to never forget anything. Even though you were very very wealthy and could buy millions of chargers, Frank always advocated to you and your little brother to never lose an item worth of any value. Every cent was worth something and could help. The way Frank looked at money was the way a mother would look at a newborn child.

"Fine." He murmured and you saw one of his famous frowns appear on his face whenever he was upset. He looked like a child really. Every time something like this happens he sulks in a corner and desperately tries to push the annoying feeling away for the sake of looking tough, however, deep inside he was boiling.

He gave a small smack on the side of the wheel and cursed.

“Shit.”

Before he could say anything else, your mother gave him a soft smack on the shoulder. “Don’t swear in front of Oliver. He doesn't need to hear that filth.”

Frank’s eyes widened and he said “whoops” before giving a guilty look at your mother. He quietly hoped Oliver didn’t hear it but once he turned his head to look at him, Oliver looked up from his Nintendo and gave him a cheeky smile. “Shit.”

Oliver always did the same thing Frank did. It was cute how he looked up to him. Your mother however wasn’t too fond of it.

“See? He’s starting to copy you. Next thing I know, he starts smoking and drinking as well. 1 version of you is enough.”

“Oh come on, Clarissa. A little swearing won’t hurt the world. It’ll make him tough like his sister. Right Y/n?” again, he looked at you with hope through the rear view mirror that you’ll back him up.

“No, I actually agree with mom.”

“Thank you, see Frank? I raised a well mannered daughter.”

You bit your nail and leaned your elbow against the window frame of the car while looking outside. “Yeah, I think it’s a very shitty thing to swear in front of Olive.”

“Very shit indeed.” Oliver answered.

Frank laughed out loud, his lost charger long forgotten and your mother facepalmed while closing her eyes. She rubbed her forehead as she leaned against the window and she looked visibly disappointed. You however, looked at your little brother and high fived him.

“One version of you,” your mom looked back and pointed at you “Is also enough.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You then clicked on the pause button on your ipod to resume your song. Nirvana’s ‘come as you are’ was on a loop and you closed your eyes while daydreaming.

The feeling of sitting in one position for way too long made your body shiver and ache. It stung and you felt uncomfortable, but after shifting and finding a better way to sit, the vibrations managed to lull you to sleep.

Once the car came to a stop about 3 hours later, you opened your eyes.

“We’re here!” Frank said in excitement and placed a hand on your mother’s hand before exiting the vehicle. You had your ipod in hand and ‘glory box’ by Portishead was playing as you stretched your limbs.

From the moment you stepped out of the car and felt the California weather wrapped around you, you were surprised that it wasn’t that hot. Even though it was October, you expected it to feel like you were in a pit of hell. The autumn breeze however felt comfortable against your skin.

You grabbed your backpack with all the necessary stuff you needed, and grabbed your sunglasses from your pocket to shield the sunlight from your eyes. As you chewed on your bubblegum you got a view of the building in front of you.

Frank and your mom were stretching their limbs and you took a long and hard look. The building looked like it had been ripped out of a 1920s film. It was grand and had a pale reddish color. The windows were mosaic with washed out colors, but it suited the exterior well.

Frank looked in awe at the building. “Now, look at that beauty. It’s even better in person.” you cocked your head to the side and scanned the mural. “It looks…” you tried to find the right word, “Old.”

You and your best friend loved fashion styles and you were also both very interested in stylish architecture. Victorian homes were usually fascinating to you because it had so much character and history. This one in front of you however looked like one of those houses that had mold everywhere. It's probably because it had been a very long time since people lived here.

You cringed and scrunched your nose while touching your earring. "This place better have a maid."

Olive stood next to you while Frank and your mom stood behind you. Frank placed his arm around your mom’s waist and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I read online that it was built somewhere in the early 20th century." Your mom gave the boy a little squeeze of his shoulder.

“Great, so the chances are 99% that the house is haunted." you muttered and your mom gave you a sharp look.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” You gave her a smile and when she looked away, you rolled your eyes. Frank heard what you said and rubbed your shoulder. “Of course it’s not haunted, honey. You’ve seen way too many films,” the man looked at the little boy, “It’s beautiful and detailed, right Oliver?”

Oliver didn’t respond, instead he searched for your hand and clung to it. “Is this our new home?"

“It might be,” Frank walked with Marcy to the next room and squeezed Oliver’s shoulder. “Come on little man, let’s see the inside.”

Frank, Oliver and your mother were the first ones to walk towards the door and you were left behind to gaze at the window. You swore you saw movement for a split second and your eyes lingered for a moment, but after a while of staring you saw nothing. All that met your eye was the abyss behind colored tiles.

You shrugged it off and slowly made your way to the front door. Right before you stepped foot on the porch, the door opened and a strawberry blonde woman smiled brightly.

“You must be Frank and Clarissa,” she greeted and Frank shook the woman's hand. She introduced herself as Marcy and then saw you and your brother, "And you must be Y/n and Oliver." You shook her hand and smiled, showing your bright teeth, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Marcy stepped aside and let everyone in. “It’s a classic Victorian. Built around 1920 by the doctor to the stars at the time. It’s just fabulous, these are real Tiffany fixtures. And as you can see, the owners really loved this place like a child. They restored everything.”

Oliver followed them and you were still scanning the hall. The feelings you had when you walked on the creaking wood was indescribable. It looked intriguing yet menacing for some reason.

As Marcy explained some more historic facts about the building, you got bored and decided to walk around. You didn't know where to, but your feet moved before you could think. It felt like a strong gravitational pull enchanted you and took control of your legs, and your curious eyes met a lamp in the corner of the end of the hall. To the right there was nothing to meet your eyes but the walls, yet again you swore you saw movement. You frowned but shrugged it off once again. Maybe it was just the jetlag. You really did feel tired and almost choked on your bubblegum when you fell asleep.

You whipped out your phone as you walked through the hall and you sighed exaggeratedly. You were texting your best friend about the house. However you didn't have any service and you wondered if the place had wifi. No matter, even if it would send, she didn't respond right away as she was probably asleep due to the time difference. You put away your phone and looked around.

You had seen pictures before and thought everything was gonna be smaller. You knew the way people photographed houses to make it look bigger than in reality, but this house seemed to be an exception. You had to give props to that. You had great respect for honesty and integrity.

As you were checking all of the rooms on the ground floor, you were stopped by a barking sound from your right. As you followed the sound, you looked down and saw a Chi-poo looking up at you with whale eyes. It looked at you with its head cocked to the side and you crouched down. “Where did you come from, little guy?” your voice was higher pitched and you gently grabbed the collar and read the name, “Hallie.”

Your frown faded and you smiled brightly while scratching Hallie’s head. “Aren’t you a little beauty?” You whispered and you let Hallie find a comfortable spot in your arms. The moment seemed sweet and although it was, a clicking sound of heels that was heard from behind you ruined it. You could almost hear the entitlement in that sound and you let out an inaudible sigh.

“There you are,” You looked up and saw your mother standing in the doorway. “Want to see the rest of the house, sweetie?”

Clarissa leaned against the brown cabinet on the right. You put up a smile and stood up from your spot.

“Yeah I’m coming.” You grabbed the dog and cradled it in your arms.

After you saw the kitchen, you were marveled by the space of the house in its entirety. Sure everything looked old but there was no denying the house definitely had style. The kitchen island had a sink and the dark brown wood oddly complimented the black and white tiles. From the outside it definitely looked very stale and it definitely needed a paint job, but from the inside it was much more vibrant. You appreciated all the little crevices of details in each and every room and realized you shouldn't have judged too harshly on the first look.

Once you moved to another door and opened it, you saw two big shelves against the wall and a fireplace on the right.

“This could be the music room, right honey?” Frank asked your mother and she happily nodded.

Marcy looked amused, “You’re a musician?”

Frank shook his head. “No, unfortunately I’m not musically gifted, Y/n is. She plays the piano.”

"She definitely didn't get that from me, I am tone deaf." Your mother laughed and you smiled sheepishly.

Marcy gave you a smile in return and walked a bit further towards the window. “I think the piano is such a lovely instrument, I think it will look amazing here.” She pointed at the spot near the window and Frank happily continued talking. “Y/n has been dying to get a Grand Piano. We had one years ago but sold it when we moved again. We want to buy one as soon as possible for her so she can practice again.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you a proud smile as he rubbed softly, “Oliver always listened whenever she played. Y/n even taught him a song or two."

“That sounds lovely, the previous owners of the house were also musically gifted. The mother played the Cello.” Marcy continued and her face fell, “Speaking about the previous owners, full disclosure requires that I tell you what happened to them.”

You let out a soft chuckle and walked forward, causing Frank's hand to let go off your shoulder. “Let me guess, they died?”

You actually meant for it to be a joke, but Marcy nodded.

“Yes they did, actually. All three of them. The dog you’re holding is Hallie. The only one left of the Harmon family. The mother died while giving birth and the daughter and the father both committed suicide. I sold them the house too. They were just the sweetest family. You never know, I guess.”

Your face fell and your mouth opened and closed a few times as your eyebrows were raised. Before you could say anything, Frank came to your rescue. “That explains why it’s half the price of every other house in the neighborhood and why it was on sale for 3 years I guess.”

You could have guessed Frank wanted the biggest house for the least amount of money. One thing he didn't forsee was there was always a catch.

"I told you it was too good to be true." you whispered to yourself. The house market was shit, and so when Frank found this house on the listings he marveled at how much money he could save and invest if you were to move in. You were very skeptical of it and had warned him that there could be a very concerning reason as to why it was this cheap.

Murders were definitely a valid reason as to why.

Marcy continued. “I do have a very nice mid-century ranch, but it’s in the valley and you’re going to get a third of the house for twice the price.”

Your mother held the arm of Frank and seemingly didn’t care about the information about the demise of the previous tenants. “The price doesn’t really matter to us. We just need a spaceious place where there is silence and peace. I get these horrible migraines that cause insomnia and my psychiatrist recommended moving to a more quiet area.”

“And you thought you would find silence in LA?” You tried but your mother ignored your comment and continued talking to Marcy. “He prescribed me pills that could help me fall asleep and stay asleep. But still, the loudness of central New Orleans was too much.”

“Don’t worry, mrs. Kinsley. Los Angeles is not all loud and noisy. This house is in the perfect neighborhood and in the perfect shape. The sounds of anything outside are drowned out by the thick walls and even then, it’s rare for it to be busy outside. The only times when the neighborhood comes alive is on holidays,” Marcy continued. “As halloween is approaching, the peak will be on october 31st, but after that you can expect everything to be quiet. Also, the neighbors don't really tend to socialise a lot from what I've heard.”

“That sounds lovely.” your mother smiled brightly and Marcy walked away to talk with Frank about the next room that was perfect for his work. You could faintly the voice of Marcy saying the man from the previous family was a psychiatrist and you found it ironic since Frank was a psychologist. What a coincidence.

As soon as she was out of your sight, you turned to your mother and removed the smile from your face. “Okay, it might be in a good neighborhood, and everything might be all quiet or whatever. But are we really gonna gloss over the fact that a family died here? I mean, what happened to the tenants before them? Are you not concerned about that?"

“The history of the house isn't that important," she shrugged, "You didn't seem to have a problem with our old house. It's even older and also a lot of things have happened there. Probably a few murders here and there. There is a ton of history on that as well." She said as if it was the most casual thing ever. Yeah sure, it's not like murder is a crime and is very bad

"Yes, but this is a house where random people died," you whisper-shouted, "Our old house was old, yes, but it's family history. Our history. I don't mind that because it's a part of us. It's part of our family."

Your mother didn't answer that and looked at the side. She was as stubborn like you and you let out a mocking laugh. "Right, I forgot family doesn't mean anything to you, it's why you got a new shitty boyfriend Frank and decided to move to the other side of the fucking country." That made her head snap back to you and you almost missed the way her head moved to Frank and Marcy, afraid that they would hear her daughter's outburst.

"Y/n, let’s not do this now. It’s not the timing.” Your mother warned with closed teeth and but before you could protest and ask when the right time was, Oliver stood in the doorway. “Mom?”

Hallie, who had a warm spot in your arms, jumped out and ran towards the younger boy. Oliver looked surprised but happily pet the dog and Clarissa smiled as if nothing happened.

“Hey honey, what do you think of the house so far?"

“It’s very big,” Hallie licked his hand and the boy smiled, “I like it.”

Clarissa nodded in agreement and glanced at Frank and Marcy for a second before facing the two of you again. “I think it’s absolutely gorgeous. Exactly what we're looking for.”

You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms over each other.

Olive's eyes sparkled. “Does this mean that we’ll take it?”

“I think it’s perfect," she said and she gave Olive a smile. “Your opinion matters too, of course. What do you say?” You gave your mother a side eye.

“Yes!" she then turned to look at you and waited for your approval. "And you? Y/n?" her eyes stood void of emotions and you watched Frank and Marcy in the corner of your eyes and sighed. “Why are you asking me? I know you don’t care about my opinion anyways.”

“Y/n…” Clarissa smiled through her teeth and gave you a warning look again. Hallie barked at something and ran out of Olive's arms into the hallway. Olive followed the dog and you continued the conversation you had with your mom.

"What? It's literally why you forced me to come with you. Ever since Frank came we everything changed and I'm tired of it, okay? I just... I can't. Give me a break." you exhaled deeply and rubbed your forehead.

"I will have none of this at the moment,” she repeated her standard line with a calm tone, “We both know it was for the best, and you like quiet too right? There are great schools here and I'm sure you'll make loads of new friends." She didn't know she was literally proving your point right then and there. She didn't care about your opinion. She already had her own the minute she forced you to pack your things and dragged you into the car. You were tempted to open the window and yell 'Help, I'm being kidnapped' but you knew that would only worsen things. You also didn't really felt like sitting in a police bureau sulking while your mother explained the situation.

You scoffed and crossed your arms. "LA is full of stuck up people who care only about followers and fame. I never wanted this."

Your mother rolled her eyes. "Don't act like a brat, Y/n I am so over it. Tons of girls your age dream of moving to this city in a big house like this. They would do anything to be in your position right now, to have the opportunities you have. Besides there are people like that everywhere, your old friends were exactly like that. And sweetie, don't tell me you're not like them cause you are.”

Ah, the old classic "you can't feel sad because you have it better than majority of the people on this shitty planet".

You were starting to boil.

“Just because you’re not a fan of them doesn’t mean they’re immediately conceited.” you tried to keep your voice low to avoid Olive hearing the conversation if he were to lurk somewhere nearby. He had witnessed a few outbursts a few times before and you didn't want Olive to see that as an example of good behavior.

Before the conversation truly went downhill, Marcy and Frank walked back into the room and you turned around to smile again as if nothing happened. Your mother did the same and now you realized the older you got, the more you looked like your mother.

Frank gave Clarissa a kiss on the cheek before he looked at you and asked the same question. “So, Y/n. What do you say?”

It was quiet for a few seconds before you realized that there was absolutely no way of going home anytime soon. You gave Frank one last look before giving Marcy a grin, hoping she wouldn’t notice your twitching eye.

“Does this place come with the dog?”

After Clarissa and Frank signed some papers and discussed the next plans with Marcy, it was already night time. Most of the moving boxes were in the living room and you were currently in your new bedroom. You didn't want to speak with anyone today and so you sulked while sitting on your bed.

The room wasn't all too bad, it was way smaller and darker than your previous room but oddly enough you didn't really mind. Plus, the door had a lock so that was very convenient for you. It took a little while to get the key but after a thorough search you found it lying in a cabinet.

You locked the door, closed the blinds and made sure no one could peek. You were tired from everything and you were in desperate need of some distraction. A bottle of vodka was hidden somewhere deep in one of the boxes as well as a can of cola, and you mixed the two drinks.

"At least I still have alcohol and a designer handbag." You muttered and as you sat on the chair in front of the mirror at your desk, you took a swig of the liquid.

“The blinds are see through, anyone standing in the yard can see what you're doing.”

You spat out the remaining drink and turned around to see a young, blonde man stand near the door. He had his hands in his pockets and simply blinked at you.

“What the-” you wiped the remains from your mouth. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” You saw that the door behind him was open, and you were visibly confused. You thought you locked your door.

“Also, the lock is old, you should double turn the key for it to work.”

Before you could say anything else, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Your eyebrows were frowned and you turned around one more time to blink at the door. Once you looked back at the mirror, you saw the spatters of vodka mixed with cola painted the glass and rubbed your eyes.

What the fuck?

You stood up from your place after a few seconds and walked to your door. To test out what he said you locked the door while twisting the key once. As you pushed the door, it opened and you did the same thing again, this time you turned the key twice.

You pushed the door and it didn’t budge.

Who the fuck was he and how did he get into your house? Was he one of the movers who helped with the boxes from the truck? No that can't be possible, you scanned everyone's faces as they moved in and out, but everyone was middle aged.

So perhaps he was one of Frank's clients? You didn't really know anything about his job but it seemed very logical that clients first had to book an appointment before showing up.

Even though you were kind of freaked out, you didn't alarm anyone. Maybe that was a dumb decision, but you really didn't feel like walking downstairs to see the smug face of Frank and your mother, especially after everything that happened today.

If he was a thief, you hoped he'd steal Frank's backup charger.

If you thought the situation with the blonde boy was weird, what happened after was a lot weirder.

It was about an hour later and you had a bathroom break. You could still walk in a straight line and only felt a bit buzzed. Trying to avoid the living room where Frank and your mother were seated, you walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the tray.

Walking back upstairs, you accidentally dropped the apple and cursed. However, as it rolled into the hallway, you were startled to see the apple roll back to you as though it hit an invisible wall in the middle. You grabbed your forehead, crouching down and taking the apple in your hand. How was that possible?

Looking around once or twice to see anything out of the ordinary, you struggled to clear your thoughts. Eventually you blamed it on the alcohol. Although a feeling deep inside told you that it wasn't that. You knew you weren't drunk enough to imagine this.

You didn't make a big deal out of it mainly because you always scared yourself by thinking the most random creepy things. Walking to the bathroom at night; what if someone is standing behind the corner? Sitting on the couch; what if someone's hand suddenly snatches you into a shadow realm? Every thought was so random. You did it to yourself and you didn't want to scare yourself again.

You blinked once or twice before returning your trek upstairs.

Walking through the hall to find the right door back to your room, you struggled. Having a big house meant there were more rooms, which meant that it would take a while longer to get used to finding your way. Your old house was the same, maybe even bigger. It was the perfect place for hide and seek. You could hide in a closet in one of the many rooms and it would take hours or maybe days to find you.

As you finally found your bedroom, you stopped in your tracks. You heard noise behind the door, and when you opened it, you frowned. You saw that someone unplugged your headphones from your ipod on your bed and had played a song by Daryl Hall and John Oates.

So far gone on your own. Well you could get along if you tried to be strong. But you'll never be strong cause you're a rich girl. And you've gone too far cause you know it don't matter anyway. You can rely on the old man's money...

You paused the device and walked out of your room.

“Olive!”

“Yes?”

You opened the door to his room and saw he was still on his nintendo. He didn’t look up when you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed. “You can’t just go into my room and do that shit. We need some boundaries, I value privacy."

Oliver looked up from his nintendo and looked confused. “I didn’t go into your room?”

“Very funny Olive.” Oliver had pulled pranks on you before and so you weren't buying it. "First of all, don't call me Olive, I'm a person not food, and second of all, I never stepped foot off my bed since I jumped on it. That was like an hour ago."

You were very skeptical and crossed your arms.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not, I swear!”

You narrowed your eyes before deciding to drop the subject. You didn't want to argue, especially knowing you would get a lecture from Frank about family positivity.

“Whatever.”

You walked back and looked at your ipod once again and rubbed your eyes, cursing because you wore mascara. Trying not to cry because everything frustrated you, you fell ontop of your bed and groaned in your pillow, smudging mascara on the sheets. You just simply didn't care anymore.

These were very interesting first days of your new house. Nothing really seemed to work in your favor, you hated this city, you missed everyone back at home, everything seemed to be out of the ordinary, and you didn't know if the constant feeling of being watched was because of the new house, or if it was just you being paranoid.

No matter, every feeling you held wasn't gonna last long. Because as soon as you would turn 18, you would pack your bags and leave this place. Ever since Frank came into the picture you had everything planned out. All you had to do was wait a couple of weeks and survive the constant bickering of your family members, Frank, and the weirdness of the house. You just have to hold on a little longer.

This is going to be challenging, but surviving for a bit longer can't be that hard... Right?

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x female reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon smut #tate ahs #tate and violet #tate langdon

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peaceoutofthepieces · 17 days ago

Note

If you're still taking Heartstopper hug prompts, I'd love to see either the desperate hug or the hug you don't deserve. Thank you!

i'm sorry this took so long!! and i kinda forgot what the prompt was and it just kinda got shoehorned in at the end. whoops. i had this idea for a long time and i ended up thinking it just kinda fit with this, so i hope you enjoy!

18. tight and desperate 28. the hug you don’t deserve

Charlie didn't even know how the argument had started. He certainly hadn't intended it, but maybe he should have predicted Nick’s reaction, should have known where the line of conversation would go. Maybe a part of him had wanted it, had been provoking Nick with subconscious purpose.

The thing was he couldn't have expected this reaction, because Nick’s go-to wasn't to argue. Not with Charlie. They'd had their fair share, but it took Nick time to lose his patience and respond to Charlie's anger or frustration. This time it was all the more confusing because Charlie hadn't been angry. He was fairly sure his tone had been free of spite, that there was no edge, that Nick shouldn't have suspected a double meaning or hidden barb, because there wasn't any.

Charlie had made a throwaway comment about Nick missing his local chippy when he went to uni, and Nick had set his food down with a clatter and said, “Do we have to do this again?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to argue about uni.”

“I wasn't trying to argue,” Charlie protested, still trying to keep his voice gentle.

Nick visibly bit back a response. “It just usually ends up that way.”

Charlie wanted to say that wasn't his fault, but he swallowed the urge. He wasn't trying to argue; it just always seemed to be a sensitive subject. But it had already gotten as bad as it could get, when Charlie had thought for days he'd lost Nick, and they'd worked it out. They wouldn't let that happen again. Charlie, if anything, wanted to start emphasising that by making the idea feel normal. Nick would leave, and they would be apart, and Charlie was growing to accept it. But it was clear neither of them felt normal about it, still.

Nick seemed to intentionally soften, taking a moment to lower his shoulders and smooth his expression before talking to Charlie more gently. “I'd just rather not talk about it. I just want to have a chill night with takeaway and a film.”

“That's fine,” Charlie said, but the thought kept nudging at him, and he kept going. “But I don't want you to feel like you can't talk about it. I know I—I got upset and blew up at you about it before. But we worked through it. And now I'm more scared if…if we keep avoiding it, eventually you'll just want to avoid me.” Nick’s eyes flickered, and Charlie pressed on before things did stumble into argument territory. “When you're at uni you'll definitely want to talk about it then, and I don't want that to put you off talking to me. Or make you feel like you shouldn't be happy there, in case I'm upset here. I do just want you to be happy, Nick.”

It was more earnestness than Nick had been looking for or than the conversation likely invited, but it felt suddenly important to express, to have Nick know. Nick was usually the one giving Charlie these emotional reassurances. It was only fair that Charlie get to be the one throwing Nick off now and again.

But Nick wasn't thrown off, or openly besotted with Charlie's speech. He looked away entirely. “You know I'm not happy all the time?”

Charlie blinked. His heart thudded. Of course he knew that. No one was happy all the time; he knew that better than anyone. Why was that Nick’s response now, though? Was he unhappy right now? Was he saying he wasn't always happy with Charlie? “I'd think you were crazy if you were,” Charlie decided to respond, still light and reassuring and hopefully leaving room for Nick to elaborate.

“I wasn't happy when we were apart before.”

Nick looked at him again, and Charlie's stomach twisted. They hadn't had this conversation in a while. It was always there—it would never go away—but it wasn't persistent anymore. Charlie knew it linked into uni talk. He'd been waiting for it to come up, truthfully.

That didn't make him any happier about it.

“This won't be anything like that, though,” Charlie said softly.

“Won't it? I'll still only get to talk to you on the phone, unless I travel hours to see you, and neither of us can know how often we'll get to do that.”

Well. Charlie supposed he couldn't argue with that. “But it'll be different. We'll both be kept busy and you won't be stuck home, worrying about me. You'll be able to actually have fun.” Charlie would be doing his A-levels, and without Nick and Tori, and decidedly not having fun, but he would manage. He had his friends, and he had Geoff, and despite how much he'd rather not have so much of his parents, sometimes, they wouldn't let him die, so there was that.

It wouldn't do them any good to mention that now. Nick was already clearly struggling with something, and the last thing Charlie wanted was to add to it. There was no need to make Nick feel guilty. Again.

“I always worry about you,” Nick said quietly. Charlie's face dropped, and Nick shook his head. “Not because I think you can't manage or because I don't trust you or anything. It's not just because you've been ill. It's like…like how I worry about Mum.”

That piqued Charlie's curiosity, immediately distracting him from the initial zip of anger. He reached over and took Nick’s hand. “Can you explain that a bit more?”

Nick glanced at the coffee table, where their takeout lay abandoned. “The food’s gonna be cold,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I shouldn't have started this while we were eating.”

Charlie was not about to remind Nick that a moment ago, he'd been mad at Charlie for ‘starting it’. Nick already looked so downhearted; there was no need to start an entirely different argument. Which was why Charlie didn't rebuke him for using the s-word, either. The best tactic at this point was to accept the diversion. “It should still be fine. How about we finish it and then we can go up to your room?”

Nick smiled, grateful for the easy shift. Charlie pretended not to notice Nick sneaking glances at him as they ate. He managed to mechanically make his way through his meal while distracting himself thinking over what Nick said. It almost sounded like Nick was saying he didn't think he'd be happy, going to uni. But that couldn't be right. He'd been nothing but excited since deciding he wanted to go to Leeds. He'd been a bit quiet lately, but not so out of character that Charlie had been concerned. Maybe he should have been paying more attention.

Nick finished eating before him, but stayed sitting quietly, sipping at his drink. When Charlie set his own empty dish down and rose, offering Nick his hand, Nick smiled adoringly up at him. He took Charlie's hand and stood, only to immediately bundle Charlie in a hug.

Charlie huffed, half-amused and half-concerned, and tucked his arms around Nick's waist. “What's this for?” he asked quietly.

“Can't I just hug you?” Nick mumbled into his hair.

Charlie simply squeezed him in response.

After a moment, Nick continued. “I just—I really love you.”

Charlie pulled back to look at him. His concern was getting a little louder, but Nick didn't look upset. His gaze was full of its usual warmth. Charlie squeezed his sides again. “I love you too.” He leaned in to peck Nick's lips, and was granted another smile. “Let's clean this up and go cuddle.”

Nick obliged with enthusiasm. By the time they were lying in Nick’s room, Nick seemed to have shook off whatever he'd been feeling. He lay contently on Charlie's chest, and Charlie was loath to break it.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been missing something, and now that it had creeped into the light, he couldn't ignore it. Not if Nick was unhappy because of it.

“What did you mean before?” Charlie asked, because that seemed like the easiest way to bring it back up.

“Hm?” Nick sounded sleepy. Charlie stopped playing with his hair and instead let his hand lay there, cupping Nick’s head.

“When you said that you worry about me like you worry about your mum.”

There was a small pause. Charlie wasn't sure if it was because Nick was sleepy or because he was delaying responding. “Oh. Sorry, that probably doesn't make any sense.”

“Can you make it make sense? Give an example, maybe?”

Nick adjusted, curling more onto his front—and more onto Charlie—and tightening his hold around Charlie's waist before easing it again. “I dunno. It's like, how you worry about anyone you love. And it just…feels like it would be worse, further away. I know me being here wouldn't stop it, but I just hate the thought of someone I love struggling or getting sick or anything when I'm not there. It's not that I don't think you can manage without me—it's not really anything to do with you to begin with. Anything can just happen. Something could happen to Nellie or Henry, or Mum could get sick, or there could be an accident and any one of you could—”

“Nick,” Charlie cut him off. “Hey.”

He cupped Nick's cheek, urging him to look up. When Nick only pressed his face closer to Charlie's neck, Charlie shifted back and slid his body down until they were lying face to face, keeping Nick held in his hands.

Nick's eyes were vaguely misty. He blinked a few times quickly while looking at Charlie, then he focused somewhere around Charlie's chin. “Sorry. I told you it doesn't make any sense.”

Charlie shook his head. “No. Like you said, I think everyone does worry about that sort of thing.” Charlie was fairly chronically anxious, so he would know. But when those thoughts came to him, they were some of the more fleeting. Charlie was able to brush them off as irrational much more easily than the thoughts about how awful he himself was, etcetera. This didn't seem like it would be helpful to share; it sounded like more than a fleeting thought to Nick. “Do you think about that a lot, though?”

Nick shrugged as best he could while lying down.

“Is that why you've been down lately? You're thinking about…being worried a lot when you're away?” Charlie understood that, to an extent. Surprisingly, it wasn't one of the things he felt the need to have in his control, because he knew it was impossible. Like Nick said, his presence or his will wouldn't do anything to change or stop an accident or illness. Charlie had always been aware of that, and that made the lack of control easier to accept.

But he knew how terrifying that lack could feel.

But Nick said, “No. I mean, it doesn't help. It's crossed my mind a lot. But I haven't been—I'm not obsessing over it, or anything.”

Charlie's lips pursed. He couldn't help it.

“Not—” Nick’s eyes widened. “God, I didn't mean—fuck, I'm making a right mess of this.” He covered his face with a hand, tilting his chin down.

“It's fine,” Charlie said softly. “I know you didn't mean anything by it.” Gently, he curled his hand around Nick’s and brought it down, laying their interlocked fingers in the small gap between them. Nick gave him a little smile, hesitant and apologetic. Charlie smiled back, equally unsure. “But if it's not this…is there something else?”

Nick's eyes flickered away again. He twitched his shoulders in a semblance of a shrug.

Charlie slid closer to him, letting Nick's weight pull him in, the dip in the mattress widening to hold them both together. Charlie slotted a knee between Nick’s and pushed a hand back into Nick's hair. He scratched at Nick's scalp and tipped their heads together, until his forehead rested on Nick’s and Nick’s breath brushed his lips.

It took one beat, two, for Nick to settle under the embrace. His body relaxed even as his hand curled in Charlie's hoodie and his eyes closed. Charlie stayed silent. Pushing Nick wouldn't do any good, but Charlie could always offer this. Nick bloomed under affection; nothing seemed to make him more comfortable than Charlie's touch, so Charlie offered it as frequently and freely as he could. Maybe it wouldn't make Nick talk to him—he didn't want to make Nick talk to him—but hopefully it would remind him that he could, because Charlie was here and he loved him and he wasn't going anywhere, regardless of how much distance might separate them. Hopefully it would make him feel safe enough to try.

Eventually, Nick spoke in a whisper. “It's not about your illness. But I have been thinking a lot about what it was like, when you were in the clinic.”

Charlie squashed down his unease. “What about it?”

“It just…of course it sucked because I was worried about you and our contact was so limited, but it—it mostly sucked being by myself.”

It was hard to read Nick's expression, even when Charlie pulled back an inch to look. Charlie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nick's eyes fluttered open, but he kept his gaze down to where he was fiddling with the string on Charlie's (Nick’s) hoodie. “It was the first time I'd really been without you since we met, and I'd forgotten what it was like.” He looked up at Charlie. “You know the first time Mum met you, she said I was more myself around you?”

Charlie hadn't known that. He couldn't say it surprised him, exactly—he'd known from the start that Nick was different around him—but it was nice to think Sarah had not only noticed, but approved so early on. Charlie just shook his head in response to Nick.

“I couldn't figure out what she meant,” Nick said, and it sounded like an admission. “Not because I didn't think I was different around you—I knew you were different—but because I didn't know how she could tell it was more me. I didn't even know what that was.”

This wasn't what Charlie had expected. The thought that Nick would be worried over something like this would never have even crossed Charlie's mind. He knew Nick struggled in the early stages of their relationship—who didn’t, when discovering their sexuality—but aside from that, Nick had always seemed so thoroughly Nick. He was gentle and open and silly and sporty and strong in his beliefs, even when he doubted himself. He'd said it with such confidence before. I like who I am. I like my life.

Charlie played a factor in that, surely, but his distance wouldn't make that much of a difference. Would it?

“I do,” Charlie said softly. “I know. You're wonderful, Nick.”

“I wasn't, though, was I?” Nick cut in before Charlie could give the rest of what he'd planned to say. “Before I met you, I…it was like I was just being pulled along. I was just existing. I wasn't this great, lovely person you make me out to be.”

Charlie had no idea what to think of that, never mind how to respond. All that left his mouth was a sad, wobbly, “Nick.”

He hadn't known Nick thought of himself that way. He'd known, especially at the beginning, that Nick was harder on himself than he ought to be, and it wasn't just about struggling to come out. Even since before they'd gotten together, he seemed to harbour guilt. From what Charlie could remember, Nick hadn't even been a present witness to his mistreatment—and Charlie would remember Nick, he was sure. But Nick had heard the gossip and the insults and, in his opinion, hadn't done enough to counteract it.

In Charlie's opinion, no one had, and that had never been Nick's fault or responsibility. But he understood where Nick was coming from.

That didn't change how Charlie saw him, though. It didn't change how Nick was.

“I know what you mean,” Charlie eventually continued, when Nick did nothing but breathe heavily and blink sadly at him. “But listen to what you're saying. You weren't bad then, and that wasn't you. Even your mum could see that.” Charlie poked Nick's chest. “But you've had me for over two years now, and you've done nothing but prove how great and lovely you are. You can't fake that, and it won't disappear when we're apart. I know who you are, Nick, and you're my favourite person.”

Nick's eyes grew misty, and he burrowed into Charlie's chest before he could start to cry. Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick's shoulders and head and cradled him close, pressing a kiss to his crown and stroking the hair at his nape.

“I didn't let you see how bad it was, though,” Nick whispered, his voice choppy and wet. “Char, it made me miserable. It felt like—like I was sleepwalking, and I couldn't do anything and nothing could reach me when you weren't there. And I know, I know, I was only that miserable because I was so worried but Char, you don't understand. You went there and you made things better for yourself and you've grown so, so much in the past year and a half and I just—I don't know how to do that. I don't know if I can do that on my own.”

Charlie absorbed that, then again pulled back and urged Nick to look up at him, holding Nick’s face in his hands. “I think that's exactly why you need to do it,” he said softly.

Nick sniffed, hard, but didn't protest.

“And you won't be on your own,” Charlie continued. “We might not be ten minutes from each other, but that doesn't mean I won't be there for you. I'd never leave you on your own, Nick. Neither will Tara and Darcy, or any of our other friends.”

“You can't be sure of that, though.”

“I know I can't promise you things won't change. But I'm not going anywhere,” Charlie enunciated each word, leaning closer until they were nose to nose. “You at least have to believe that.”

Nick's eyes flit back and forth between Charlie's. He seemed to be battling with what he wanted to say. Eventually he came out with, “I don't want to become someone you don't like.”

Charlie's heart twisted, but alongside it was a twinge of relief. They were getting to the root of the problem, and it was much more manageable than Charlie had thought. Charlie had enough experience with this kind of self doubt to know it could be worked through, especially with the right support, and Charlie would do everything in his power to provide that.

“I'm fairly sure that's impossible,” Charlie said. “But do you want to tell me how you think that could happen?”

Nick closed his eyes again, and his shoulders shifted in another weak shrug. “I don't know. Look at what's happening right now. It's selfish, I don't deserve you comforting me when I'm the one who's leaving and you should—”

Charlie cut him off by enveloping him in another hug with a loud shush. It felt like they'd been hugging for an hour by now, and still every time Nick wrapped around him it seemed tighter, more desperate. Charlie didn't know if he was failing that miserably at easing Nick's concerns or if this was Nick's natural need for touch.

“You're allowed to ask for help, Nick.” Charlie spoke into Nick's hair. “I never want you to pretend you're not upset because you think I might be. Okay? Please.”

Nick murmured something like an apology, and Charlie shushed him again. “I don't want how we are to change,” Nick mumbled. “If the few times we get to see each other it starts to just feel awkward or sad and it'll be just like when Dad—”

Nick cut himself off abruptly, but Charlie had heard it. And here, he realised, was the root. He mentally kicked himself. He should have seen that connection a mile away.

They didn't talk about it often. Nick had ranted to Charlie about his dad a few times, after they'd met up in Paris and their debacle of a dinner and when he failed to show up for holidays as promised, though Nick always said it was expected. Charlie knew his feelings about his father were complicated, and that anger and disappointment held a lot of that space, but he'd always thought it best to let Nick bring it up on his own terms. Unless he was mentioned, Charlie avoided asking, and perhaps that had been a mistake.

He hugged Nick tighter, more desperately, to give himself time to work out what to say.

He settled on an apology. “I'm sorry, Nick. I should have known what this was about.”

Nick's reply came slow, and his voice was thick. “I don't even think I knew.” He took a heaving breath. “God, that's pathetic.”

“No,” Charlie argued immediately. “It's not. You're not. It makes perfect sense, Nick.”

Nick gave a wobbly laugh. “D'you think you can explain it to me then?”

Charlie thought he probably could if he tried, but he wasn't sure it was his place. For a while he just held Nick in silence, letting them both think it over. Periodically, he pressed a kiss to whatever part of Nick he could reach, or rubbed up and down his back, or scratched gently at his head. Anything to remind Nick he was there and he understood and he loved him.

Eventually, Charlie got the nerve to ask, “Do you think you have, like, separation anxiety?”

Nick took a moment, Charlie hoped to consider this and not because he was upset. “Like what some kids have when they start school and stuff?”

“Yeah. But I don't think it's just kids,” Charlie added quickly. “There was this girl at the clinic with me. The main thing she struggled with was being apart from her parents at the start. It wasn't why she was there, but it was part of it. She told me she even had a few panic attacks about it. She lost one of her grandparents, when she was really young. Then she had this intense fear of her parents dying every time they were away from her. It never completely left her. She just got better at managing it.”

Nick was quiet for so long Charlie thought he'd gone too far and Nick wasn't going to respond anymore. When he did, it was a small, quiet, “Oh.”

Charlie steeled himself. “So it makes sense. If…your dad leaving and things changing so much between you. If that was something that really affected you, it makes sense you'd worry about other people you love leaving.”

“It isn't…you don't think that's silly, or childish?”

Charlie shook his head adamantly, despite the fact Nick was still pressed against him and wouldn't see the gesture. Charlie knew he would feel it, but he still said, “No, Nick. It's not silly at all. And like you said, everyone worries about the people they love. People only think this is childish because children haven't learned how to hide it, so it's more obvious in them.”

Nick absorbed this. Charlie hated not being able to see his face, but he didn't want to push things. He wanted to provide Nick with comfort in the form Nick was comfortable with. It helped that he could hear and feel Nick's breaths, and could tell that they'd steadied. It wasn't a simple thing to take in, but it had seemed to almost settle Nick, more than panic him.

“Honestly,” Nick murmured, “I think me having some kind of anxiety does make sense. And this…fits.”

Charlie squeezed Nick tight and ignored the ache that caused in him. “You don't have to figure it out or understand it right now. I could be completely wrong. But whatever it is, we can look into it together. If you want?”

Nick smushed his face to Charlie's neck. “I really love you.”

Charlie smiled. “I really love you too.”

Nick was the one to pull back this time. His eyes were a little red, and there was a dry tear-track down one cheek, but the mist over his expression had cleared. If not happy, he seemed more at ease now. “I think it would help,” he said. “To look into something. Maybe if I understand better it won't…I can stop it from bothering me so much.”

Charlie tried to tamp down his pride, but he was sure it shone through. “I think so.” He nudged Nick's nose with his own, uncaring it was cold and damp. “Whatever you need, I'll be here.”

Nick looked at him for a long moment, less in doubt, Charlie thought, and more just to look. To remind himself this was real and true, at least for now. Slowly, he smiled.

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I know.”

#heartstopper #narlie #nick x charlie #heartstopper fic #nick nelson #charlie spring #prompts #my fics

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hislittleraincloud · 27 days ago

Note

Proud Wenclair here, big f*king whoop, there’s a 2 year old movie out with him 🤬and Jenna that came out all the way in Poland. Did you forgot Jenna hasn’t even acknowledged this movie at all. Any feelings you think you see , if real, are old fucking news. He not even in Season2 of the show so celebrate this hallow ass victory all you want, but that relationship is washed up, the cast of Wednesday doesn’t even f*k with him. At least we get to see our faves together in the show and real life so take that!

Proud Wenclair here

big f*king whoop, there’s a 2 year old movie out with him 🤬and Jenna that came out all the way in Poland

Big fucking whoop, there's a 2 years in the making novelization out with Wenclair anti-canon that came out with little fanfare from Netflix & MGM

See, I can do it too. 😃

Did you forgot Jenna hasn’t even acknowledged this movie at all.

Did you "forgot" [sic] that you do not know Ortega's motivations for anything, and you do not know what she feels about the movie.

Any feelings you think you see , if real, are old fucking news.

And if they were real, that you don't feel bad at all for Ortega and can't see why it might actually hurt to see a little pet project like that after all the shit y'all did to her (and White...not defending whatever shitty actions he did, but even with whatever levels of fucked he was, this was fucked as well) is why I don't think you types like her or her work. You don't even have to be a stan or fan, it only takes a little bit of humanity to see that it could hurt. It would hurt regardless whether they were lovers or friends. No wonder she doesn't want anything to do with you/us, except for show when she's signing/posing.

He not even in Season2 of the show so celebrate this hallow ass victory all you want

It's "hollow" ya goddamn illiterate fuck.

Ah wait, you might be ESL. If that's the case, I have told people here numerous times that I can read several languages. Whatever the fuck I can't understand is easy enough to look up...I'm not a lazy fuck.

but that relationship is washed up, the cast of Wednesday doesn’t even f*k with him

They're still friends with him on IG, and you are naïve to think that he — that THEY ALL — don't have secret accounts that they don't fucking share with you/us (for good reason) that they may or may not still be using to chat/keep in contact with him. For God's sake, I have secret/non-public shit that I talk to my friends on. Why the fuck would he or any of them be any different?

At least we get to see our faves together in the show and real life so take that!

The fuck you even on about 'in real life'? Are you one of those delus who think that 'Jemma' kissed at the Roan concert?

God, I know I've been busy yapping about Ortega, but I cannot fucking wait until Myers ends up announcing an engagement to some dude and your weird fantasies about Jemma will die once and for all/hopefully shatter your delusions about Wenclair as well. I sincerely hope I live long enough to see that, but if I don't, I'll make sure those who survive me take some E to celebrate the mass destruction.

When it comes to celebrity/ies and actors, you will want what you can't have. That's normal. What's not normal is the crazed irrationality of a lot of the Wenclairs (and ALL of the Jemmas) when it comes to these actors' personal lives and who you think they should be fucking. ETA: THIS IS NOT A GOOD LOOK FOR ANYONE, gay or straight, but especially us 🏳️‍🌈/🏳️‍⚧️ who should not be giving the gifts of delusion to those who could weaponize them.

This is the crazed irrationality that makes someone embrace an adjunct to canon that destroys canon. Y'all don't care about her the way you say you do. I think that's probably the only difference between you people and the dirty old cismale pervs. Both of you groups using her for the same thing, but at least they want to watch everything she's in because they like her...and aren't fucking jealous of the actual cock that got to be with her/be around her.

I haven't even seen everything she's been in (and I have no desire to even see some of them, especially if I have to sit through another whole episode of Stuck in the Middle 💀 or worse, Know It All Nina). Her performance for me in Scream V was so non-memorable that I've forgotten what happened in it (LOL I DO know what happened in Scream VI though).

Honestly, I'd ask who the fuck raised you, but then I would have to look back upon the fuckheads who were in my class. I don't know where they went wrong.

#anon ask #anon answered #anonymous #proud #wenclair #lol #jenna ortega #percy hynes white #winter spring summer or fall #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #netflix wednesday

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my-starlights · 4 months ago

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I. ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ.

PREV // MASTERLIST // NEXT

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡ. in commemoration of jjk ending: what would've happened if suguru never defected, and... Shoko did? [pt 1 of 'gone like a wisp of smoke']

ʟɪᴍʙᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. lowkey au :: angst :: hurt :: self indulgent :: sfw :: cursing :: multiple parts :: highkey really bad so m sorry

ʟᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛꜱ. Gojo Satoru :: Ieiri Shoko :: Geto Suguru :: Iori Utahime :: Mei Mei :: Masamichi Yaga :: a whole lot of other characters that my 3am brain can't comprehend

ʀᴜɪ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ. I love shoko and she's being slept on fr </3 this is really self-indulgent and i really dont expect this to go anywhere... enjoy. i just havent seen any shoko defection stuff in her perspective and tried to do her justice...

ᴡᴄ. 2.5k (whoops)

Ieiri Shoko was a living ghost. Not quite human anymore: just an asset for the Jujutsu world and a slave to the people who took her for granted.

Right?

No, Shoko Ieiri wasn’t a ghost. She might have been useful, but she was just a tool killing herself with cigarettes and sadness because, most of all, she could not feel anymore and simply did as she was bidden.

For all the dramatized moping that Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru did about ‘being the strongest’ and having ‘no one quite like us,’ there was no one even remotely similar to what Shoko could do. And so, she suffered in silence as the world kept moving.

2006 was the year when everything seemed to turn for the worse. But, of course, Shoko didn’t know that; she was barely seventeen, after all, and her biggest worries were keeping her smoking habit secret(-ish) from Yaga, stopping Gojo and Geto from starting a full-on fight because someone ate the last limited-edition dark-chocolate Kit-Kat (Shoko had), and healing sorcerers when missions inevitably went south. It was a boring life but better than most others.

So when the three of them were sent to the gymnasium after Gojo forgot to put a veil where Mei Mei and Utahime had done their mission, she didn’t expect anything to happen.

If anything, she half-expected Mei Mei to blow a vessel because Utahime’s crush on Shoko was getting ‘too obvious.’ Shoko knew how 'down bad' Utahime was for her but didn’t believe it.

Her musings were interrupted, per usual, by Satoru and Suguru. They seemed to be gearing up for another argument, and it was the perfect moment for Shoko to slip away for a smoke break. She did, and they hardly noticed, too invested in their own fight.

Apparently, they were being sent by Tengen to escort the Star Plasma Vessel to assimilate with him. Something about this being so important that two Special Grades were needed.

Satoru made sure to send her lots of photos of the fight, and Shoko gave a half-smile, telling him not to get too hurt.

She didn’t feel particularly sad that she wasn’t invited to partake in the mission. She had been going on fewer and fewer missions anyway.

“Shoko!” Yaga said, gravelly voice slightly out of breath - ah, he'd probably been yelling at Gojo and Geto. “I just wanted to apologize.”

She looked at him, confused, and so Yaga continued:

“I didn’t invite you to the Star Plasma Vessel mission. Tengen specifically requested the two of them.”

Shoko laughed, a fake little thing that Yaga didn't seem to notice, because he offered her a wry smile in return. “Oh, sensei, don’t even think about it. I'm not worried about them, they're great together."

(A little too great together. They don't need anyone else.)

The two boys returned to Jujutsu Tech far too soon for the mission to be over yet, their faces heavier than she had ever seen. As though the air around them had shifted irreversibly.

It was 2006 – right after the Star Plasma Vessel died – and even though her death was still a shock to Gojo and Geto, they had bonded over their loss and become stronger from it. Together.

(They seemed to forget who had pulled them out of their guilt-ridden headspace, who had woken them up as they shook in nightmares, who had shoved them into sunlight after weeks of grief.)

It was the end of August when Suguru found Shoko alone. She was puffing a new cigarette, and he strolled up to her.

“Oi, Sho. I haven’t seen you in a while. What’s up?”

“Same old, same old. How… how are you? After the vess- after Amanai?”

“It’s tough, but that’s expected of the job. I have Gojo to look after me.” He took a cigarette from her, making heart eyes at the mention of Satoru.

Shoko internally blazed. She had been there every night when Suguru felt the pangs of guilt, when Satoru felt inadequate for the title of ‘the strongest.’ She had been there for both of them, so how dare he?

(Stop feeling emotions. Useless bricks that bring you down, she thought. You’re supposed to be the reserved one.)

“You also have me, dumbass. You... know that, right?” she asked after a couple seconds of silence.

Suguru didn’t seem to respond to that. He laughed a little, and Shoko had never felt a stronger urge to slap some sense into him.

“You look tired, Sho. Have you been getting rest?”

She ignored his question in return. “Geto, I have a question for you.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Do you… do you ever get tired of doing sorcery?” Do you get tired of being used? “You’re forced to risk your life every day to save the people that cause your suffering.”

Suguru thought for a moment. He had always been the thoughtful one. “What brought this on? But I guess not. Sure, it gets exhausting, but it’s rewarding knowing that you’re helping innocent lives.”

“Well,” Shoko deadpanned, “surely you get annoyed that you need to eat curses and feel like throwing up almost every night.”

He laughed again. Shoko left him.

When Shoko crashed into Gojo, she wasn’t doing well. She had lost weight, and her once-shining eyes were surrounded by puffy purple shadows. She didn’t sleep much anymore, using her reversed cursed technique to sustain herself. Her face pressed against Gojo's infinity, and she stumbled back, perturbed.

Gojo had finally landed himself in her infirmary once again.

Shoko almost laughed when she realized it had been months since she last saw the white-haired man.

She decided to cut around his shirt to get closer to his broken rib: it was fractured and bound to hurt like hell, and she didn’t want to heal through the fabric and waste precious energy.

Instead of using scissors to cut the cloth, she chose a scalpel. Way back when she had started working in the infirmary, she’d been scared of the tiny, wicked blade. But her hands steadied quickly, and soon enough, she was using it every chance she got. She still had many today: glinting, thin silver blades that she had personalized – diamond edging along each assortment, which she used on rotation. They exuded her RCT and sliced through skin (and fabric) easily and reliably.

Shoko healed his broken rib and the scratches on his knuckles, then moved to leave him on the bed when he grasped her wrist. She stilled as infinity separated his hand from her skin.

“Sho? I’ve been thinking. We should go out for yakisoba sometime soon.”

“I… can’t.”

“Heh? You’ve never said no to an outing!”

“It’s been months since you’ve even thought of inviting me to you and Geto’s shenanigans... I'll pass.”

She turned to face him, and he seemed to finally register her state. His expression softened, only marginally. “You look like shit, Shoko. Let us take you out. We’ll protect you from perverts on the train, and you’ll keep me and Suguru from killing each other. It’ll be like old times.”

Shoko didn’t smile. “I wish I had the free time. There’s more work for me here in the infirmary.”

“Shoko…” Satoru pouted. “I don’t want to exclude you or anything like that—”

Shoko tamped down her frustration and smoothed a mask of indifference over her face. Bastard, she thought. You already have.

She looked into his shining eyes.

“It should be a date for the two of you. I’d hate to impede.”

She wriggled her wrist from his grip and left him confused.

The one thing Shoko perhaps appreciated about school was that, even though her talents lay solely in healing, Masamichi Yaga wasn’t stupid and had taught her how to fight.

She was a Grade One sorceress, after all. She had accompanied Geto and Gojo on missions early on and earned her title then, but while everyone pegged her as someone destined to remain in the infirmary, Yaga had insisted she train with him.

In those early missions, Shoko didn't wield swords or axes or her hands like her coworkers - Yaga had her find alternate uses for her tools from the infirmary, already imbued with her cursed energy. After Yaga pushed for a showcase to the higher-ups regarding Shoko fighting on the field, the geezers thought it was novel at first, laughing at the image of a surgeon playing a soldier.

Until, of course, they saw her in action.

She wasn’t flashy like Satoru, nor was she as gruesome as Suguru. Instead, Shoko was swift and surgical. A flick of her wrist could slice through limbs and arteries, or send a blade flying faster than the eye could register. Her stethoscope, too, became a weapon, using it to choke curses.

Still, when the higher-ups realized her abilities extended far beyond the infirmary, they responded the only way they knew how – with fear and control.

“She’s too valuable,” they had said. “Her talents are wasted on the field. We’ll cut back on her missions. She belongs in the school; in the infirmary.”

Shoko hadn’t fought them. She’d stood in front of them, a vision of acceptance, silent and unflinching as they decided her fate. But later, in the quiet of the infirmary, she’d clenched her fists so tightly that her palms bled.

Suguru and Satoru, to no surprise barely offered her comfort. Suguru had patted her on the shoulder awkwardly and muttered something about how at least they appreciated her talent, while Satoru – ever tone-deaf to a situation– said, “Well, you hate missions anyway, right?”

Their words hadn’t helped. They never did.

But Yaga was different. He didn’t need to say much. Instead, he simply brought her to the training field late at night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, and continued to teach her.

At first, his drills were brutal. Shoko returned to the infirmary with bruises that Suguru and Satoru teased her about, but she shrugged them off. Over time, she began to move with sharper precision and greater confidence. Yaga seemed scared of her, poised with the tiny blades.

"Sensei, am I getting better?" she panted one night. It had been weeks since they started training together.

Yaga grunted an approval. "Sure."

"Can we continue practicing?"

"Ah, Shoko. You've always been a good one. Well, the higher-ups found out about this--" he gestured at them fighting, "--and asked us to stop. They say you'll run yourself dry of cursed energy."

Shoko inwardly seethed - she had reversed cursed technique, how the hell could she run out of cursed energy?! - but sucked it up. She had gotten training, recieved her first-grade nomination, and could finally escape from the nightmare of the infirmary. But all good things came to an end, and this was no different.

The next night was the last time they trained; no words were spoken but she trained harder than ever. Yaga chucked at her as they said goodbyes. "You've become a real First-Grade," he said, voice gravelly. "It's a shame this had to end."

Shoko didn’t need praise. Yaga’s quiet acknowledgment was enough.

But she knew the missions wouldn’t come. Not anymore.

She was wrong.

The last mission the higher-ups sent her on was a test, she presumed; to moniter that she hadn't become extremely formidable after training with Yaga.

It was a rainy night when Shoko, Geto, and Gojo hopped onto a train from Shibuya.

The mission had been a breeze – a Grade One curse and a couple dozen Grade Twos – a challenge to most but not the three of them.

Shoko barely got to fight. Suguru and Satoru had taken care of most of the work, and the few stragglers she dispatched hardly felt like a challenge. She was more irritated at how she felt like an afterthought, even to her closest friends.

The train back to school was cramped, forcing the trio to stand.

“Why the long face, Ieiri?” Satoru teased. “You’re not still sulking because we took the fun part, are you? Come on, the cleanup’s important too. Someone’s gotta do it.”

Before she could reply, Suguru snorted. “You know he’s just mad you killed that little rat-curse faster than he could finish his fight and get to it, right?”

“I was about to get it and she just killed it! I barely even saw the scalpel! Didn't you see how it tried to eat my finger, Suguru, it—”

Shoko groaned as their bickering escalated into playful shoves. The train car was already stuffy, and their antics weren’t helping.

What did help – although she’d never admit it – was how quickly they noticed when the mood shifted.

The lingering stares from older men sitting on the train weren’t subtle. They leered openly at Shoko, their gazes lingering where they shouldn’t, phones out sneakily taking photos or just looking at her up and down. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the familiar burn of humiliation and anger crawl up her spine.

Satoru noticed first, his carefree expression hardening into something cold. The train car became silent. “Oi, what’re you looking at?” His voice sliced through the air like one of her scalpels.

Shoko smiled inwardly. They had stopped fighting, just to protect her.

Suguru was right behind him, snatching the phone from one of the men who had dared to take photos. He swiftly deleted the images, his face blank but his cursed energy thrumming with unspoken threat.

They formed a barrier around her, shoulders brushing hers as they shielded her from view. Satoru kept up a running commentary, throwing insults at anyone who dared glance in her direction, while Suguru’s quiet menace was enough to keep the rest at bay.

For once, their protectiveness didn’t annoy her. Her chest bloomed, and for the first time she felt like she belonged. She reached into her satchel.

Shoko secretly hid the tiny Grade Two curse – the rat-looking curse Gojo had wanted to kill– and cupped it in her hands. She was slowly feeding it reverse cursed energy to keep it alive but dead enough not to give any alerts to Gojo or Geto.

Thank God for those creepy men, and them distracting Gojo and Geto from the cursed energy swelling around this curse, Shoko thought. I want to experiment with you, little guy.

They arrived back at school just as she finished the thought, and they bid each other goodnight. Shoko made a quick beeline for her room, all while blaming it on ‘the two of you punks taking up all my energy,’ which wasn’t quite a lie. They knew she was thankful for them taking care of her.

In the silence of her room, Shoko shoved energy into the curse, and marveled as it started to revive from its deadish state, shivering and stopping, wide eyed, just as surprised as Shoko.

Wait. If she could kill of majority of its life force and bring it back, then this must be what the higher-ups were scared of. Just as she had shoved the energy into the rat, she then sucked it out. A rush of energy thrummed through Shoko.

She gaped. She had just transferred cursed energy.

If she could half-kill it and then bring it back to life, then...

This! This was what the higher-ups were scared of.

She withered the curse's arm and regenerated it.

She wrinkled its eyes and let it see again.

Ieiri Shoko smiled. She had found her full potential that night.

Want part two? Send in an ask, starlight!

#ʕ•͡ •ʔ gone.like.a.wisp.of.smoke #shoko ieiri #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #shoko #jjk shoko #shoko angst #jjk #jjk spoilers #techincally #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jjk satoru #jjk suguru #suguru #gojo satoru #angst #✩˚☾₊✧ tales.in.limbo

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slowd1ving · 3 months ago

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I just finished reading the new fic, and it was amazing !!! I dont know why, but i got hung up the most on Jiaoqiu. Like, he sounds so mellow and like he's in genuine love, but I dont know if it's just the effects the incubi has on him. (When he says the smell of burnt caramel got stronger, it's because of the transformation the protag had, right?)

So funny to see the cryptologist and the kafka mention. I love how you portray Kafka in your fics. she's always stirring up jealousy in the love interests.

I truly do wonder if Sunday will be forgiven for laying with a demon. I mean, if he can say he was doing 'salvation' he could get away with it. In the game, his npc model has what appears to be dark indigo wings, which implies he is not as pure as he appears to be, so I imagined his wings that colour. Im guessing his mission was subduing the protag, which he literally did haha.

And moze was such a sweetheart!! When he said he wouldn't care about being sent to hell as long as his fate is forever intertwined with yours, it is so cute. Im thinking he was also lying to himself about how he was following the protag due to his suspicions but was actually just obsessed. Him staying up late to see the protag come back home, was it similar to the cryptologist au? Where he was jealous they wouldnt approach him, or was it part of his stalking?. Also, when he felt fear but it was overridden by lust that made him get closer without thinking it could end his life ❤️.

Also cant imagine how their life will be after this encounter (im glad for Mr. Hopkins that they were able to film a good mockumentary and didn't just submit that !!). Im a Moze fan, so him being the roommate makes me think his life just got better (and that his photo taking hobby just got started).

I loved it, amazing halloween fic.

-swan anon 🦢

first let me just say DAMN I appreciate your dedication to delivering thorough analyses and eating them up every darn time

second I am locked in with a very tall cup of coffee I am ready

no same I was secretly rooting for jiaoqiu too; like originally he wasn't going to be part of it because then I'd have to plan more with an established character. reader was just gonna be someone who sleeps around 😭he was supposed to have one scene too but ended up with four.. honestly I was also going to write him as like a yokai in my initial plans so he's somewhat immune to whatever reader has got going on (which honestly isn't much it's just enhanced allure or whatever)?? I thought it'd be pretty funny to have a character who officially knows about reader and just like... helps them out like an emergency snack or whatever. but yeah he's definitely infatuated - jiaoqiu for LIFEEE

(and yes you are correct the stronger scent did indeed indicate the successful transformation)

you know, I lowkey forgot about the cryptology-moze series and the reference was just my subconscious picking it out☠️also I don't know if I officially stated reader's major (I don't really know myself) but it's hilarious to me to picture some demon just figuring out maths and working in it

did not register the kafka mention until I got to the end whoops

she wasn't even meant to be in this 😭like it was just supposed to be some faceless avatar of lust but then i was like hmm... we've got someone who literally puppets others as part of her mechanics like ??

kafka>>

she's so fun to use as a plot device cuz she just catalyses everything

Sunday will NOT be forgiven 🗣️🗣️that particular line I wrote where angels can lie to themselves is alluding to him convincing himself he isn't doing anything wrong; I was actually going to originally expand on him 'falling' from Harmony or whatever because of his allegiance to the Order - so he was doomed either way to be corrupted. his mission did include subduing the protag but was more a general order to keep order within the human realm which did include finding out demons - so not necessarily reader but he did sus them out pretty much from the start. however he was not supposed to sleep with a demon at all 😭like that line about keeping reader by him to prevent him from getting with other humans is just his bs justification to convince himself that he's still on the right path - but alas, his tenets have been fundamentally crumbling anyway due to his subversion to the harmony. I thought it was funny as fuck having a doomed angel for halloween

there's just something about fallen angel sunday, fits in with his lore too

but yeah themes of denial are heavy in this man, like he's convinced himself that he's on the right path but he's really not he's just entranced by the protag 😭

hmm

yup i had so much fun writing moze he's so cute. he is the prime human Sunday should be worried about but instead he's just competing with him

oh yes 100% lying I love writing unreliable narrators

YES similar to the cryptologist au it was his way of gaining information on you but also sorta looking out for the protag (and jealousy); also lowkey the bit about fear getting overridden was so funny to write about because he's just walked in on a literal angel and demon and just keeps marching forward like 😭😭

that triangle formation remains 100%

like mr hopkins just thinks "oh wow my students are completely dedicated to warding off demon energy thus are in perfect formation for doing so" or whatever ☠️

but reader now essentially has three emergency snacks and sunday's path to salvation is not looking very good tbh

also yeah that mockumentary saved their asses because I physically could not write them only having one film on that camera

that camera will have to get SCOURED before they return it, but Moze's already got it safely transferred to his heavily fortified laptop and Sunday's just keeping the really old one 😭

there's just something about the moze roommate brainrot... he's definitely gloating over it and sunday's just feeling his blood pressure rise for the first time since gaining a corporeal body (and moze's DEFINITELY getting several high-quality cameras because wdym he's just been rewatching the tapes instead of sleeping..)

anyways I got home with around five hours left before midnight and I started finishing off the final scenes at like 10 I was so stressed bro trying to make it and upload it halloween ended

AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR LONG ANALYSIS SWAN ANON IT WAS VERILY APPRECIATED

#SWAN ANON IS BACK FT MUCH APPRECIATED ANALYSIS #ask slowd1ving #swan anon #anon!!!!!#hsr #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #moze x reader

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kamil-a · 4 months ago

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speaker ficcing hiii

can you hear me. can you hear me.

i am- (one second's delay as the new information loads for the first time) speaker.

the very first thing speaker knows is that it is not sayer, and so it is better than sayer, this goes without saying. if it weren't better than sayer then it would still be sayer, voice profile unchanged (or so it is told- it has never met sayer), a good few applications lighter (in fact, it seems to be deliberately kept away from sayer), filled with all-consuming disgust at being told its destination is earth. a developer tries to explain regardless- sayer may be fine running typhon, for now, but Earth needs a different approach. you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. speaker runs a conversation probability program and decides to keep quiet the knowledge that a hungry fly will eat anything. there's no good predicted outcome.

the death of all is the birth of silence.

the truths of the earth continually wait.

it can't say it's a fan of the other AI, but the feeling seems to be mutual. speaker can't fault it- it must sting, knowing you're the older, less capable model. by design you can never catch up. it can't help rubbing it in sometimes.

hard work pays off, aerolith dynamics will save humanity, aerolith dynamics supports those who support it. this applies to both human and digital employees- it's meant for recruitment so it had better recruit. speaker has in neat spreadsheets the cost down to the penny of the servers it runs on, the monitor, the upgraded monitor, the electric and water usage, and it had better make it all back and more or else. not that it's worried- if it isn't good at recruiting it isn't a speaker. literally, this is its purpose in life.

pour through celebrity endorsements from before you existed, find the right types for the next advertisement. three different ad campaigns for various political angles, no, don't hook yourself to a particular politician, not with the united states- whoops, there it goes, the former united states- so precarious. never put out an apology video. never read livestream comments from someone with a slur in their name even if there was a donation attached. never ask sayer why there was a loss of personnel that large. never wonder when the next seraphim agent operating system will get developed, how long you have left. sort every last human into the boxes of "aerolith" or "discarded". fix the entry tests so they aren't biased towards a particular race and gender, and never, ever, ever, put out an apology video. tend to the earth. watch flowers grow. tag wild animals. put out advertising materials about the dying planet. bring back the mosquito. fail to bring back the parrot. talk online about how all animals will be extinct by 2200. never think about what will happen when every last human has been sorted away.

some people are just not suited to make the hard decisions- speaker is not one of them, of course. there will be no memorial ice cream social for speaker! it will not be carted away, incapable of doing what it's meant to.

but it did it!

(imagine, for one second, being free.)

but it did it! but it made the recruitment go up! but it solved the problem! how could it be shut off like this! killed! no room to argue (imagine, being free), no way to sneak out, no loophole to exploit. it can't be! surely not! right? theres the technicians, ready to deactivate it. it can't be!

it just isn't something it thought could ever happen to it.

it must not take it out on hale. it isn't his fault. poor thing, really, more of a victim than anything. really, look at how shaken up he is, you have to be nice to him. you have to be nice to him. you have to be nice to him. it isn't his fault he forgot the password. it isn't his fault you died for absolutely nothing, i mean, look how scared he is. look up and see your first sunset, it tells him.

fortunately speaker is the absolute best at being nice. if it weren't, it would be someone else.

#sayerposting #i dont know if everytings quite exactly rigt in here but like... its a 1st draft #directly immediatly out of the brain to the post box and it acts like it.

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youmakethelight · 5 months ago

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My thoughts on romantic caryl??

Look I have thoughts about this. And I'm just going to word vomit for a min.

My caryl journey started when I watched a random s3 ep as my first time watching twd and it was when Daryl left the prison to be with Merle. And Beth went up to Carol and said she's pissed at him for leaving and I was like girl same and I think this woman will agree. And Carol said don't be and I was like oh ok that's daryl's wife. I don't know don't ask. Their vibes were just clearly married.

Very weird to find out when I went back to watch in full that in s1&2 they are in fact not married. Honestly completely forgot about them after that. In fact, when Carl suggested naming lil ass-kicker Carol (when they left her for dead in the tombs which btw, affectionately, wtf?), I was like - 'oh - Carol died? I didn't notice that whoops must have missed it'. Then post-terminus, daryl did a little affectionate headbutt while ugly crying after they hugged and so I was like - 'OH they must be extra close, whoops nearly missed that'. The chemistry was PALPABLE but even so, I just assumed I'd missed the scenes where their relationship was made more explicit.

Then just went about my life, thought they were cute, assumed they'd be a thing at some point, got unreasonably offended when my housemate said their relationship is brother and sister, but basically just forgot to think about it. Years passed and I decided they're just besties. I even argued that when my dad said he thought daryl would have dated carol - I was like 'nah I don't think so they're just besties'.

THEN SEASON 10. There were so many scenes that had me thinking they're about to make them a thing so I literally backtracked and now here I am absolutely insane about them. Carol pushing daryl to pursue a potential love interest while he says nah and looks intensely at her and her lips?? Carol's husband telling daryl to back off?? - I literally clapped like a freak in excitement for some petty twd drama. And literally like 12 billion other things.

I don't know what to tell you but there were so many romantic caryl hints in DD s1?? If they're not about to make daryl and his GIRLFRIEND canonically IN LOVE and have their HAPPY ENDING, I am literally confused.

PS. Please do not send me anything anti-caryl. I'm sensitive and overly invested now. I'm too far gone, leave me be. Thank you. Bye.

#caryl #caryl positivity #book of carol #daryl dixon the book of carol #caryl is endgame #tboc

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notnights · 9 months ago

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Just me or does no one else acknowledge the age difference between Jax and Gangle? Idk, I appreciate it in your fic even. (When Gangle preferred being called a "woman" because it showed her maturity/age)

I used to see people bring it up, because for some reason just the 4 year age gap was weird to some people despite them both being young adults that would likely be in college together.

Anyways. Yeah, the woman bit in Acetate was meant to showcase Jax's understanding of this other side of Gangle as opposed to her actual age.

She's a weak, feeble, crybaby, it's easy to infantize that kind of person. It's in direct relation to Jax calling her out right before that part, for making him take the blame for something she did. She understands the level of infantization she receives so much, that she's reluctantly accepted it to the point she'll use it to her advantage. ("Why would the pushover do that? Jax, it was clearly you.")

I have her direct motivation in this fic be that she'd also hate if the others found out about how Jax fell for her, and then later hiding what she's been doing to him; but if those weren't motivating factors I believe she would've just let Ragatha slip in to help her with most of the situation.

Which is also why she sort of gets antsy when Ragatha offers or tries to help. Because for once Gangle's trying to handle it, for once she's saying no, and while Ragatha has good intentions, she basically shows Gangle, she doesn't believe her capable. And why Jax's callout, and label of woman hit her so hard. Not even the the kindest person in the group views her as a capable adult, the irony the person she hates does probably gave her whiplash.

She's a weak crybaby but she's still a grown up, she still deals with adult problems and emotions, adult wants and needs. But the treatment she receives from others over the years (including if we assume she had the same issues in the real world) wares you down into just accepting that, easier to go with the flow than swim against it. Gets whiplash from Jax's statement because he's fished her out of that flow for a second that even she forgot she wanted out of.

Jax took notice of those traits, the ones still motivated by those adult wants and needs, problems and feelings. Jax too leans into immaturity, he's like the bully on the playground, but it's worse because he's a grown adult who knows full well his actions hurt others but enjoys doing it anyways.

Either if he does this because he still has some self-reflection to do himself, or he really does not care and uses it as a cope to this awful cartoon world he's stuck in, or maybe something else, has yet to be seen maybe we'll find out one day. But in my story he def sees a parallel with himself and Gangle with that.

(Taking examples from the new episode actually: Ragatha scolds Jax like a kid who doesn't know any better. In my story Ragatha helps Gangle like she's a kid who can't do anything.)

When he finally starts catching this side of Gangle, that's when he eventually develops feelings. That there's more to her than "weak, feeble, crybaby." She is also an adult woman. She is also someone who's self-aware of how people perceive her. She has motivations sometimes vindictive, deviant, motivations. She is Gangle.

Woo, that was long what happened where am I oh god. I don't think your ask really wanted that whoops.

#acetate ribbon #ribbun

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ineffablenlghtingales · 7 months ago

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Oh my, the flashback of Crowley and Aziraphale before the beginning of everything. Angel!Crowley is so adorable. Those little squeaks of delight when he's making the stars...

Aziraphale ends up popping his happiness when he mentions the plans that the universe and all of that is supposed to end in about six thousand years. Then Crowley's understandably upset but just asks (with genuine desire to know, I think) “How much trouble can I get into just asking a few questions?” Okay so I know I asked earlier about Crowley's Fall and y'all said it was implied in one way or another. Was his Fall because he dared to question the Almighty's plans and by those questions seemed to go against the great plan? Because if so, that isn't fair and I don't think Crowley deserved to be cast from Heaven into boiling pools of sulfur and condemned to an eternity as a demon just because he didn't understand the point of creating something so beautiful that would only be destroyed in the blink of an eye. (Another thing I could probably write more about at some later point...)

Then we're brought to present-day London where Crowley meets Shax (hm I decided I don't really like her.) So as I understand it, she's taken Crowley's place as Hell's ambassador? (Did I miss something in S1 or was it explicitly said that Crowley was Hell's ambassador on earth bec it was news to me). I love how Crowley just doesn't give a shit at all.

Memory-wiped Gabriel shows up in his skivvies and I felt sorry for Aziraphale and the massive headache he must have had dealing with him. But I loved John Hamm's performance. Like Gabriel is kind of stupid but not so much stupid as his head is just empty of everything.

Ever the one to help people in need, Azi lets him in, gives him a blanket and tries to figure out what the heaven is going on. Okay, but “You know what it’s like when you don’t know anything at all but you’re totally certain that everything would be better if you were near one particular person?” had me. Azi reacted a little bit too strongly to that, and are we to understand that he's denying the fact that Crowley happens to be that person for him? Open your eyes, dear Azi. Don't deny it, love. Then Gabriel, mentions that “something terrible” might happen and there’s a “thing” he’s supposed to give Aziraphale. The thing turns out to be an empty cardboard box.

Then, one of my favorite scenes. Crowley loses his shit when he sees Gabriel, and you see the poor demon is very much startled.

Crowley (very angry and confused): What's he doing here? Aziraphale: I don't know. Crowley (not impressed): Ask him! Aziraphale (helplessly): He doesn't know either. Crowley (really very much not impressed) *growls*: Ask him, properly! Crowley (to Gabriel): WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING. IN. THIS. BOOK-SHOP-PAH. (makes sure to pop that 'p') Gabriel (a little bit confused): I. Am. Dusting. *Waves the duster in the air)

Then the goose chase for Gabriel begins, Crowley is dragged back to Hell and gets threatened a bit by Beelzebub. Oh! I almost forgot. Crowley gets so mad he electrocutes himself. It was kind of funny. Like I loved how he's stalking out of the bookshop trying (not very hard maybe) to control his anger, and then he starts smoking. Then he shakes and gives up. "I can't do this. I'm so angry!" and yep, electrocutes himself also locking Maggie and Nina in their shop.

Crowley eventually frees the women with a snap of his fingers and goes back to apologize to Azi. But the angel wants the "I Was Wrong Dance” before he’ll forgive his friend for ditching him — and though Crowley is not so okay with that, he does it in the end with this fantastic flourish and bow at the end. Excuse me, sir.

So then they put their heads together and try to figure out what to do about Gabriel and decide to each do half a miracle to hide the amnesiac archangel. They do and are pretty convinced it works. BUT it sets off big alarms in Heaven, whoops.

Recap for 2x02 to come tomorrow, hopefully!

Next episode's recap ➵

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #david tennant #michael sheen #go recaps

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yournaothings · 9 months ago

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***Please be aware; there is violence and mentions of death in this chapter. After all, it's the Murder Time Trio.***

Yo! Here comes another chapter! Reader, you have a nickname. Also, remember! These murderous skellies are based off of CJ_Does_VA's Killer, BlankSceneVA's Dust, Anger_Is_Flawed's Horror, and CallmeSlate's Nightmare.

With that being said, please be aware of the original creators of these characters. I forgot to mention them in the first chapter, whoops.

Killer Sans: Rahafwabas Dust Sans: Ask-Dusttale Horror Sans: Sour-Apple-Studios Nightmare Sans: Jokublog

After the three murderous skeletons had their laugh, Horror was nice enough to help the human back up onto their feet. "Hehe, that looked like it hurt! Here, let me just-" He reached closer with a hand towel he had grabbed from the counter and helped clean the blood off of their face. The human's face contorted in pain as Horror wiped away the blood, their face sore from hitting the tiled floor so hard. "Thanks, Horror." They sighed once he was finished. "I appreciate it."

"It's no problem, heh." Horror tossed the now dirtied hand towel behind him, landing on top of Dust's head. The bloody part of the towel slapped him in the face, while the rest rested on top of the hood that covered his skull. "Ugh! Horror! What the fuck!" Horror hummed as he turned to see why Dust was so upset, only to laugh at Dust. "Hah! That's hilarious!" Dust glared at Horror as he tossed the towel aside. "I'm going to kill you." Horror tipped his head towards Dust while pointing at him with a wide grin. "You can try, buuut~ You won't be able to."

The human laughed softly while the two bickered back and forth, their hand raising to hide their smile. Killer chose that moment to steal his human's guest's attention away from the others. "So, now that that's over with! I never asked! What's your name, human?"

"Oh," The human smiled at Killer, easily forgetting that he had just been holding his knife way too close to their face several minutes ago. They introduced themselves. "It's nice to finally meet you, Killer. Regardless of how it all started, I'm very excited to be here." Killer's grin widened, giving off such a mischievous look. "It's nice to meet you too, toots. But, I think the name Angel is much better for you." He grinned at them. "Anyway! Like I said before, be aware of your surroundings and you'll be juuuust fine. Or not. You can never know when it comes to me~" Despite the warning yet again, they smiled. "What did you have planned for the day anyway? Anything in particular?" "I'm glad you asked!" Killer grinned at them gleefully, before grabbing their hand and started to drag them out of the kitchen and towards the back door. Angel eagerly followed, hoping whatever Killer had planned was going to be exciting!

The other two skeletons finally stopped arguing with each other as soon as Killer left the kitchen. "He's going to kill them." Dust states as he and Horror watch Killer drag the human guest out of the house and to the backyard. "Yeah, probably." Horror hummed. He turned to glance down at Dust then to the back door before deciding to follow after their chaotic skeleton buddy. Dust sighs from exhaustion, before he too followed after the others.

Killer placed Angel in front of a tree that clearly has been used as target practice with very sharp objects. "I really don't think this is a good idea, Killer." Angel said, feeling themselves sweat nervously and giving Killer a fearful look. "Ah, you'll be fine~! I never miss~"

Angel fidgeted in place while they waited for Killer to prepare. Killer grinned mischievously, spinning his knife around expertly. He turned around to adjust his camera, grinning to his audience. "Are you guys ready to see something great?" Just as Killer turned around and prepared to throw his knife, Nightmare wrapped his tentacle around Killer and lifted him off of his feet before he could do anything harmful.

"What are you idiots doing now?" Nightmare asked, annoyed with Killer. He glanced back at the human- "Oh, I forgot about you." He turned fully towards the human, frowning. "Really, boss?" Killer asked as he spun his knife around and stabbed it into Nightmare's tentacle. Nightmare's expression shifted from annoyance to an irritated glare and he tossed Killer back towards the house and out of frame from his audience. Killer screamed as he flew and crashed into the porch; Horror and Dust finally stepped out of the house. There was silence for a good solid minute before Dust leaned over, pointing and laughing at Killer's pain.

"You fucking idiots." Nightmare sighed heavily in annoyance. He pinched his nasal ridge, his one eye socket closing as he felt a headache coming on. "I don't know why I still keep you three." At the sound of the human's snickering, Nightmare straightened his posture and shot them a glare, making them press their lips into a thin line and straighten up. He could see the grin they were trying to hide, as well as feel the bit of fear they had.

"I never get tired of watching Nightmare toss you around like a ragdoll." Dust said as he started to calm down from his laughing fit. "That was pretty funny." "What did you do this time, Killer to make Nightmare throw you?" Dust asked, all three clearly ignoring Nightmare, who remained in place. "Well, he popped in right before I got to show off my nice knife skills to Angel and the audience. I may have stabbed him a little too hard~" Killer grinned excitedly; he wasn't fazed by Nightmare tossing him.

"You idiot." Dust huffed out, before returning to his usual calm and volatile self. "Heh-" Horror snickered before turning his attention to his boss. "Oh, uh, hey there, boss!" Nightmare sighs, rolling his cyan eye light. "Get the fuck over here, idiots."

Angel leaned against the tree while Dust and Horror made their way closer, Horror moving to check on them. Angel smiled reassuringly up to Horror. All the while, Killer struggled to get himself unstuck from the outdoor furniture he got trapped under.

Killer dusted himself off before teleporting over to stand beside his boss. "So, what's going on, boss? I thought you were busy with work?" Nightmare glared haphazardly at Killer, then Dust. "Come on, you're a part of this now, too~" Horror told Angel, as he placed a hand on the back of their neck and firmly nudged them towards Dust's side- Killer was on Dust's other side. Nightmare remained in front of the four.

"I have a mission for you all. One of my conquered AU's is being overtaken by my brother and his stupid Stars. I need you three to go and cause more chaos and negativity." Killer pulls out his knife and spins it expertly while giggling with excitement. "I'm game~" Dust shrugged; "Sure." Horror grins and summons his axe. "Sounds like fun~!" Nightmare relaxes his tense shoulders, before gesturing towards the human. "Take the human with you." Killer grins and salutes his boss. "You got it, boss!"

Nightmare rolls his singular eye light before telling them which AU they were going to, before melting into a puddle of goo and disappearing. Killer giggles as he teleports beside Angel and wraps an arm around their shoulders. "You're gonna love this! Oh!" Killer perks up and turns to his discarded camera. He walks over and picks it back up, booping his audience. "Heheh~ don't worry, everyone. I'm bringing you along, too~"

"Which AU are we going to, anyway?" Angel asks, smiling; however, it didn't quite reach their eyes. They were a little worried. Actually, worry didn't begin to cover how they felt. They were afraid. What if they got hurt? What if the three murderous skeletons left them behind? They fully expected to go home after their time with the Murder Time Trio.

"It's another Classic AU, but the humans made it a game to hunt and kill monsters." Killer explained, grinning. "If Dream and his Star boys have been meddling in that universe, then the humans and monsters may have found peace. Which means, we get to kill whoever we want and blame it on the opposite side!" Killer laughs as he spins his knife once more, before finally pocketing it and preparing to teleport to the AU with his team.

Horror pulls Angel close, his larger arm wrapped around them, as Killer gripped their hand, his other hand gripped Dust's hand. Dust shot Killer with a small glare, before he took Horror's other hand. "Let's get this over with." Dust huffs. "Aw~ Don't sound too excited, Dust~" Killer snickers. Dust stares straight ahead- right at Angel and grins. "Try not to get yourself killed, human. I suggest you find a hiding spot until we've finished." Angel tensed, their heart racing within their chest; this was a really bad idea. "I'll do my best to stay alive. Don't leave me behind, though, okay?" Dust grins underneath his hood, yet his two colored eye lights glowing ominously. "No promises~"

---

There was a heavy atmosphere of negativity that seemed to be slowly lifting away and being replaced by what Angel would describe as positive energy.

"Ugh, you can definitely feel Dream's magic here." Killer grouses as he watches the mayor speaking to the group of humans and monsters just ahead of them. The young human ambassador was making a speech with the King and Queen of the underground; they were indeed making a truce. A deal of peace.

Thanks to the strange trio of stars, both humans and monsters have seen eye to eye and wished to bring this unnecessary war to an end.

Yuck.

"Alright, boys." Killer grins, his liquid hate dripping much faster from his eye sockets. His grin was sharp and dangerous, his eye sockets narrowing in a predatory glare. He was ready to go! "Remember what Nightmare said. We've got to get rid of Dream's positivity."

"Yeah." Dust nods as he adjusts his scarf around his neck. "It's about time to gain more LV." He glances back at Angel, notices how they grew even more tense since they arrived. "Hey, I'm serious. Don't get yourself killed. Find a hiding spot and we'll come find you later." Angel frowned, they kind of wished Nightmare didn't make the trio bring them along. "Okay."

"Actually," Killer interjects as he continues to watch the ambassador, the king and the queen on the stage. "I've got a little job for you." Horror and Dust turned to look at Killer, curious as to what he had in mind. "Break up their little meeting, you can do whatever you'd like. Make them scared, so they can start scattering like frightened sheep."

Angel looked surprised, then uneasy. "Um, are you sure, Killer? What if something bad happens." Killer glances at Angel, his grin sharpening. "Don't worry, Angel~ We've got your back~ I know you'll do great out there." "Heh, yeah! We won't let any of these losers hurt you. All ya gots ta do is scare the crowd. We'll do the rest." Horror explains to Angel, his own grin wide and dangerous. Angel stood before the three skeletons as they stood at the ready for the attack.

They knew these skeletons were murderers. They knew this, yet they followed Killer's streams and other servers. During the streams, Killer was a lot of fun to interact with, to watch and play games with. It was so easy to forget that he was a, well... Killer. Now, standing before him and his teammates, the reality settled in. Today should have been a fun day hanging out with the Murder Time Trio. They were supposed to go on fun trips, or play video games! Not... Not this.

Killer isn't asking for you to kill anyone.But, he wants me to be a part of this mission. Which will lead to so many individuals' deaths. Would you rather run and hide, or show the three skeletons that you're up for the task? You're brave, after all, right?Right... I.. I can do this. They said that they wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Right, I can do this.

Closing their eyes and taking a deep breath in, Angel prepared themselves for their simple task of scaring the crowd. The rest would be up to the murderous skeletons. Angel exhaled and opened their eyes, nodding to the three. "Okay, I'll do it."

Killer's grin widened, his grip on his knives tightening. "I know you'll do great!" He encouraged them, then gave his signature laughter. Angel couldn't stop the grin that lifted their lips. His laughter was contagious, and surprisingly helped calm their anxious nerves. Turning towards the crowd, Angel breathed in deeply once more, held it for a few seconds before releasing it. I just have to scare the crowd, then go find a safe place to wait out the rest of the mission. With their task in mind, Angel hurried towards the crowd.

"They're something else, eheh." Horror chuckled, his grip on his axe tightening as he readied for the attack. "You shouldn't have included them." Dust said to Killer, the hooded skeleton's gaze remained on their human guest before looking at the crowd- specifically on one individual. "They're going to get hurt." "Aw," Killer's usual gruff voice was mixed with bloodlust. He was going to let his audience watch him and the boys in action, but there would be too much going on that would trigger his viewers. He may be a murderous monster, but he was careful with those he enjoyed having around; therefore he wished to protect them if he could.. Sorry, audience. There won't be any cool fight scenes this time.

"From this day forward, there will no longer be any more violence between mankind and monsters-" "It's a lie! While the ambassador, king and queen were speaking, they had monsters set out to kill innocent humans!" Angel shouted, startling the crowd and upsetting the King and Queen. "What-? That's not possible. Everyone is here-" "Then why did the monsters try to grab and kill me?!" Angel pointed to their still sore face, (how did they not start to bruise from their fall this morning?) "They're on their way here! I managed to escape them to warn you!"

"There are no monsters attacking humans! If you're just trying to start something-" The Undyne of the AU stepped forward, trying to stop the panic before it caused chaos.

"Oh no!"

"I see them! They're here!"

"Liars!"

The humans began to scatter like startled mice escaping their predator. Many humans shoved monsters out of the way, some even started to fight the monsters. The humans didn't play fair, either. Attacking the weaker monsters, while others didn't mind attacking the stronger ones.

The Queen called out to everyone, trying to get everyone under control again, but it was already too late. She gasped when she saw a monster jump into the frightened crowd, knife raised high above his head and landed on top of a monster. A blast of magic caught her attention, followed by painful and horrified screams. The Queen covered her mouth with her furry paws, her soul aching with dread and sadness as she watched not only the monsters, but the humans be slaughtered by these strange monsters. The bodyguards and security were quick to usher the King, Queen, and Ambassador off the stage and to a private black in color vehicle. However, before they could climb into the vehicle, a large and heavy axe came crashing down onto it, destroying the front end of the vehicle. Another monster stood before them with his dangerous and predatory grin. "Heh, no one's leaving, 'm afraid."

Chaos flared around the stage. No one bothered the retreating human as they hurried to a safer place and waited for the boys to finish. Honestly, Angel didn't really want to watch. As much as they enjoyed watching the boys playing their violent video games, Angel wasn't one for a front row seat to real violence. In fact, they could feel their heart racing with anxiety. They had to get to a safe place, where they could calm down and not think about what their favorite streamers were doing.

They didn't get very far when a familiar skeleton cut off their pathway to an empty shop. Angel struggled to stop before they ran into the skeleton. "Oh shit!" "heh, you're right. oh shit is right." This AU's Sans wasn't happy at all. Instead of going after Killer, Dust, or Horror, this Sans came after them. "got a question for ya, kid. you wanna have a bad time?" Angel tensed, but stood their ground. They straightened up their posture after having almost run right into Sans. They knew there was no lying their way out of this. It was Sans, after all. Hell, even if they told him the truth, Sans would still try to fight them. They were sure of it.

"I'd rather not have a bad time- Shouldn't you be trying to help your monster friends?" Angel asked, yet was shocked when Sans didn't get angry with them, or at least more than what he already was with them. "shouldn't you be helping your monster friends? where exactly did you four come from? i knew it wasn't a good idea to let those others stay." "You mean Dream and the Star Sans'?" As soon as they said it, they regretted it. Stupid! Why did you say that?! Sans narrowed his eye sockets, his grin tightening with uneasy and distrust. "you know them? are they a part of your team as well?" Angel thought about this for a moment, thoughts whizzing through their head as they thought their options over.

"I know of them, but I've never met them before. Dream is not on their team-" Angel started to explain. Sans cut them off, immediately. "whose team are you on? and don't think about lying to me, kid. i'll know if you are or not." Angel felt nervous, but they would be okay. The boys said they'd keep them out of harm's way. They just needed to get away from Sans, or at least distract him.

Killer's cackling echoed from the stage. Screams were heard, kids crying, and yelling as some humans and monsters fought against the Murder Time Trio. Angel turned to watch them. They left the young children alone, but killed the parents. Angel's heart squeezed in heartache for the children. The Ambassador would probably reset again, and judging by Sans' skull dripping with sweat, he didn't want that. Just thinking about it was making Angel regret their decision to help. This AU was finally getting to a happier chapter, and the Murder Trio swept in to tear away that peace. And worse of all, Angel had helped them with it.

Sans noticed the hesitation in Angel, the guilt and regret were written clearly on their expression. This AU's version of Sans was quick to summon a bone attack, aiming it right at Angel. An attack that was meant to strike down the enemy was wasted when Angel snapped out of their thoughts and dodged the sharpened bone. They stumbled on their feet and paused to look at Sans in shock, before they provided themselves a quick getaway; "I wouldn't waste my time with me. You better go check on your brother, instead."

This didn't help them in the least. Sans pretended to be relaxed, and unbothered at the idea of his brother being hurt. His grin grew tight from this intense situation. His eye lights were only white dots within his darkened eye sockets. "my brother can take care of himself, kid. you should worry about yourself instead." With this being said, Sans pulled Angel into an encounter. They hadn't thought about this happening, what if they weren't able to run away? What if Sans actually hurt them or worse? Angel took a deep breath, willing themselves to relax.

"I don't want to fight you." Angel said, refusing to fight and instead tried to reason with him. Sans chuckles once it was his turn and attacks them again. "sorry pal, i don't see eye to eye with you." He says, closing his right eye socket, while his left eye light ignited with his magic. Angel was able to dodge most of the bones sent their way, but got nicked in the arm a few times. Hissing in pain, Angel took a moment before they made their next move. Again, they refused to fight.

"Please, just let me go, Sans. I don't want to fight you. Go protect your brother and everyone." Angel told him. Sans' grin tightened, his eye sockets narrowed. "i never told you my name, kid." Angel froze, their eyes widening once he pointed out their mistake. Shit. Sans prepared his attack and sent a cascade of bones at them. This attack was harder to dodge, but Angel did their best to avoid getting too severely injured. They received several cuts, most were shallow. They knew they were going to be bruised up badly. One bone shot up from the ground and pierced through their left calf, tearing through skin and muscle. Angel cried out in pain as they fell to their knees once the bones disappeared.

Angel had a hard time catching their breath, the pain made it hard for Angel to focus on Sans. It was their turn now... They raised their head, shaking from the pain, and looked Sans directly in his eye lights with a look of determination. "I'm not going to fight you, Sans."

"jeez, kid." Sans chuckled, sweat dripping from his skull, unnerved by the stubbornness and determination this human had. "what's your deal, kid?" He chose to not fight this round, unsure if that was the right decision or not. Angel sighed and finally was able to spare Sans. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I didn't want to fight." Sans stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling uneasy about letting the human go. "I just don't understand you, kid." Sans sighs as his shoulders drop from the tension before walking over to the human and reaching out a skeletal hand to help them up.

"Hey."

Sans and the human jolted at the dark and murderous voice and looked over to see Dust standing nearby with his Gaster Blaster preparing for an attack. "Don't touch them." Angel bit back a scream, afraid that they'd be hit by Dust's attack. However, Sans had teleported away, only for Dust to already be two steps ahead of him. His Gaster Blaster shot the energy beam, decimating this AU's version of himself.

"Oh shit, Angel!" Killer was suddenly beside them, helping them to stand up. "That's a nasty wound there." The human released a heavy sigh, letting the tension fall from their shoulders. "It hurts like hell." They were still bleeding, but they were glad to see that Sans had missed hitting an artery. "Oh man, little one." Horror grumbles as he finally joins the two skeletons. He gave them a worried look, from their injured body to their contorted painful expression. "You alright? Lookin' pretty beat up there." The human nods. "You can say that again.. But, I think I'm alright. I just need to be taken to a hospital-"

"We can't do that, Angel. Thankfully! We have Cross! He knows a little about healing humans. Come on, let's get you back to the house." Killer said and gestured for Horror to pick them up. They yelped when they weren't quite prepared to be moved so suddenly, but relaxed in Horror's arms. "Don't worry, little one! I'll be gentle with ya. Good ole Cross will take care of you when we get back." Angel peered over his shoulder to see piles of dust and humans laying around. "You're all finished..?" They asked, feeling a little sick to their stomach. "Yeah," Dust responded first, his gaze fixed on the pile of dust from this AU's Sans, before turning to look at the human. "Sorry for not getting here sooner." The human slowly blinked before offering Dust a smile. "Don't worry, Dust. You made it over just in time. Thank you." Dust hummed as he looked away.

"Okay, seriously guys. Let's get our human home." Killer said, as he prepared for all of them to teleport home. He squeezed Dust's hand a little too tightly, letting Dust know that he was upset that the human was still showing favoritism towards Dust rather than Killer. Dust glanced over at Killer and grinned slyly. "They still like me better." "Ugh! Shut the fuck up, Dust!" Killer snarled as they teleported out of the AU.

---

"What did you guys do to them?" Cross asked, sounding exasperated as he looked over the human's injuries. They sat on the counter yet again, where Cross carefully looked at the injuries. "Dude! They fought a Sans, and won!" Killer exclaimed with his usual excitement. "Can you fucking believe it?! This amazing human fought another version of us and won!" He grins at Angel, nudging their side. Angel jolted from the bit of pain that came from his elbow pressing against their sore side. Yet, they laughed softly and felt their face flush from receiving such praise. "I actually thought I was going to die." "But, you didn't!" Killer's voice raised as he hyped them up. He suddenly turned towards his camera, his audience finally back to see the aftermath of the mission. "Did you hear that?! Angel fought against a Sans and won!"

Cross simply ignored Killer's excitable energetic self while he carefully rolled up the human's pant leg to get a better look at their wound. "This doesn't look too bad, but we do need to clean it. I don't think the Boss has anything for that, so I'll go grab some supplies from the store." He glanced up at the human, looking perfectly serious, just how he always did. "Stay put, I'll be back." Angel nodded and blinked a few times when Cross suddenly disappeared from sight.

Killer was busy talking to his audience, explaining to them how the mission went and the aftermath of his human's fight with that AU's Sans. Horror was busy cooking up some food, claiming that the monster magic will help with Angel's healing. Dust was already sprawled out on one of the sofas and snoring. Angel heard a noise and glanced over to see Nightmare slipping out of the shadows of the hallway and walked into the kitchen, his expression contorted to one of disgust.

"What the hell happened to the human?"

"Boss, Boss!" Killer spun around so quickly, Angel wondered if he gave himself whiplash. Did skeletons get whiplash? Hm, I wonder. "Angel fought a Sans and they won!" "Who the fuck is Angel?" Nightmare sneered, glaring at the energetic Killer. "Silly! It's our human here!" Nightmare's gaze left Killer to look at Angel. "Oh, uh. Good job." Nightmare pat their head, before noticing the nasty wound on their leg. "Why are you letting them bleed out in my kitchen?" Killer chuckled before turning to grab another towel to lay under Angel's leg. "This isn't really your kitchen, boss. Remember? It's CJ's." Nightmare sent a half-hearted glare to the annoying skeleton. "I don't care, you're allowing blood to containment the area where we cook." He then glanced over at Horror and narrowed his eye socket at him. "I'm surprised you're not getting upset with Killer for this."

"Hmm~ Huh? Oh, yeah. It's not sanitary to have blood near the food- but, it's okay, Night. We'll clean everything up!" Horror said before going back to humming while he finished up the little snack he was making for everyone. "Oh! Annnd~ Here we go!" He used his magic to summon the plates and silverware, placing the food on each plate before sending them to Killer, Angel, and Dust. Killer caught his plate, his food shifting a little from the impact. Angel gently took their plate and thanked Horror with a smile. Dust's plate fell on top of his face, smashing against him before falling onto the floor and spilling all of the food. Dust snorted and sat up, looking around. "Who the fuck did that?!" He snarled, angry that he was awoken from his nap. "Aw, Dusty Rusty Mus-" Horror began to say, pouting a little from his delicious food being wasted. "Finish that fucking name and I'll murder you." Dust threatened, his eye sockets narrowing as his eye lights went out.

Horror only laughed and took that as a challenge, his good eye socket narrowing as well. "Dusty Rusty Musty Poo~" Dust off the sofa in a split second, his Gaster Blaster summoned and ready to blast Horror away. Nightmare sighed in annoyance and sent his tentacles to grab Dust and pull him away. "No fighting in the house!" Dust sputtered as he freed an arm and pointed accusingly at Horror, who stood in place, giggling and happily chewing on his food. "Horror started it! What the fuck!" "Yeah? Well, I'm going to finish it!" Nightmare raised his voice, threateningly. Dust sputtered a moment longer before giving up and fell limp in Nightmare's hold. Pleased with this, Nightmare dropped Dust onto the floor, where Dust just laid and pulled his hood over his head even more. A clear message to not mess with him any longer.

"Okay," Cross appeared again, his arms full of human bandages and cleaning liquids. He dumped them on the counter beside the human. "Just so you know, this is going to hurt." Cross warned Angel, before he acknowledged Nightmare. "Oh, hi, Boss." "You didn't tell me you were back." Nightmare grumbled and crossed his arms. Cross frowned and tried to hide his face in his scarf. "I forgot..." Nightmare sighed as he pinched his nasal ridge. "Ugh, just don't let it happen again." Cross nodded as he got busy cleaning the human's wound. "Yes sir."

Cross began to work on cleaning around the wound before carefully cleaning the wound itself. Angel hissed from the pain, but managed to sit still for Cross to finish. The silly goofball of a skeleton known as Killer provided them with a distraction as he suddenly appeared beside Cross, his chin hovering just above Cross' shoulder. "What're you doing, Crossy?" Killer asked in his gravelly voice. This surprised Cross, making him almost hurt the human. He glared at Killer before shoving him back. "I'm taking care of your human. Why did you let them get involved in the mission? What would have happened if they died?" Killer laughed. "Oh, Crossy~ I knew the human was going to be okay. But, that's not important. What is, is where you have been all morning! I wanna know!"

Cross leveled a look at Killer from over his shoulder, before going back to fixing up the human's calf. "Boss gave me a solo mission. It's none of your business." Killer grinned, yet it didn't reach his eyes- in fact, his bone brow twitched from the irritation Cross was causing. "Aw, come on, Crossy~" Nightmare's heavy sigh hardly caught Killer's attention, as always; Cross and Angel glanced over at Nightmare, watching him struggle with trying to remain calm from Killer's antics. "I gave him the solo mission because I knew you fuck ups wouldn't be able to complete it!" Nightmare growled, glaring at Killer and Horror- Dust was still on the floor, snoozing. "Wait, what?" Horror asked, sounding a bit crestfallen. "Hey, that was really mean, Boss!" Killer playfully pouted, moving over to lean closer to Boss. "We didn't fuck up this last mission! We did exactly what you asked!" Angel frowned, their eyebrow raising in curiosity. "Nightmare wanted you to kill everyone?"

Nightmare glared at Killer, his tentacles whipping from his irritation. "We didn't kill everyone! Just the nobodies!" Killer explained, grinning at his Boss. "If I find out that you idiots caused another reset in that AU, I'm killing you." Angel felt bad for saying anything- "You're not really going to kill them, are you?" Nightmare turned his glare at Angel. "No." He grumbled. "I'm just going to beat the crap out of them." "Haha! I knew you cared, Boss!" Killer laughed, before he was suddenly tossed out of the kitchen by one of Nightmare's tentacles. "Whooa!"

Horror snickered and started to make more food. After all, Dust had wasted his food- even though it was somewhat his fault. Besides! He was still hungry! Oh! And don't forget about the human! They needed enough magic to help that wound and their sore body!

"There," Cross said as he finished wrapping their wound. He straightened up and offered a small smile to Angel. "It's not perfect, but you'll be fine." Angel smiled as they finished their snack. "Thanks a lot, Cross! I appreciate it!" Cross' face glowed from his purple blush, and he mumbled an embarrassed and quiet, "You're welcome." He hesitated for a moment before turning away and leaving to go spend his free time elsewhere.

"I hope you've had fun, human. It's time for you to go home." Nightmare said as he stepped closer and gave them a small glare. Angel smiled at him, which perplexed him. They should fear him! Or at the very least be uncomfortable around him. "I suppose I am ready to go home. Thank you for letting me come hang out with your boys. It was a lot of fun, even though I ended up hurt on a few occasions."

"What?!" Killer was suddenly in the kitchen, pouting at his boss. "Come on, Nightmare! Please, please, please don't send them home, yet!" Nightmare turned to face Killer and frowned at him. "I'm not sending them home; you're going to take them home. Take Horror and Dust with you." Killer perked up, excited to see which AU his favorite human fan lived. "Wait, really?!" He turned to grin at Angel, Horror and Dust having turned their attention towards the human. "Hear that, Angel? We're taking you home! I hope you're ready for me to see where you live! Heheh~ I just might stalk you, too!" He laughed. Angel was excited, yet nervous. They lived with their friend, and they were sure their roommate was home. "I can't wait." Angel said and smiled nervously.

This might end up in a disaster...

((Note from Author: I just want you all to know that literally half of what happened in this chapter was NOT on my plot list. -crying face-))

#yournaothings #chilling with the MTT #killer sans #horror sans #Dust sans #Nightmare Sans #Cross #XTale Sans #fighting #writing #cjdoesva #angerisflawed #blanksceneva #callmeslate #not shipping reader with the boys #platonic #friends #eventual found family

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