#me having weird thoughts in bed before sleep

[myrmica]

Heyy could we talk about the final scene at the end of season 4 with vitalasy asking the players if they had fun and to forget all their sufferings with each other and mapicc's whole "good job coming in second" thing because no one talks about and I feel like there's something to say about that moment simply because it's clear that no one wants to talk about it. During spokes livestream after the wormhole video was released where he explained a couple things the only thing he had to say about this moment was that it was "weird" and I agree it was weird but idk how to put it all into words and you're really amazing at articulating yourself so I'm just wondering what you thought of this moment? Especially after you pointed out that spoke refused to mention the whole vitalasy arc thing during his wormhole video.

YES!!!!! YES! I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS SO MUCH. i have talked about it before, but it was in the replies to a post so i doubt anyone really saw that. you can go read the full exchange if you want but here's the meat of what i said there, lightly edited for clarity:

it's like… how can you Not resonate with zam if you're sitting there watching all of that. you're squarely in zam's head, while vitalasy is much harder to access, more obfuscated from the viewer, has less pov time. AND zam is actively misrepresenting him to you while you're trying to understand him. hmm… it's like, zam and vitalasy are the two most socially otherized figures in s4. and zam takes a lot of things out on vitalasy, turns the way people treated him back against vitalasy. and he does it in a way where he positions himself as "victim" and vitalasy as "aggressor," it says so much to me that when zam is legitimately victimized earlier in the season everyone calls him a freak for reacting to it, acts like it's his fault, mocks him. but here, when zam instead victimizes vitalasy, he's socially rewarded for it. everyone else mocks vitalasy With him. and in the end, despite wormhole being zam's lowest point by far, he's the one standing together with the rest of the server while vitalasy and subz are singled out on the other side of the circle, alone. vitalasy stands there and goes (in effect) (paraphrasing/expounding here) "i'm happy with this conclusion. i got what i wanted. it's good for me that spoke took the frontman role, played the villain when i couldn't, because i didn't want to be what spoke is." and nobody LISTENS to that, they all just keep making fun of him, saying things like "he's just going to cry about subz," going "too bad you came in second!" when he is explicitly stating that this was what he wanted! acting like his methods are inherently lesser, like he's this duplicitous person, but what SPOKE did was COOL. so it's not about the exploits, is it? it's about vitalasy. it's about vitalasy being the target zam takes all of his anger out on, the thing that allows zam to access a kind of social acceptance by distancing himself from and rejecting what vitalasy is/represents. “not letting him be true to himself because the only cool thing is violence” is really what it comes down to. this is why it's so crazy to me that eclipse was pretty much textually a romantic relationship, in a world where the only way two people can touch each other is through violence. you can say "we all sleep in the same bed," but you can't Do that, you're limited by what the game represents. if you want it to represent other things, you have to start playing pretend about it. that's always true of minecraft, but it's particularly acute on a pvp server populated primarily by teenage boys. zam being afraid of this relationship where vitalasy is trying to talk things out and compromise with him and so retreating back into violence, trying to goad vitalasy into violence, putting it back on lifesteal terms, is inextricable from his problems with the exploits rendering lifesteal's "natural" form of gameplay obsolete.

^ now you might notice that this is a pretty emotionally intense reaction. I had just finished rewatching s4 and got awfully vitalasybrained about the whole thing. which was a markedly different experience from the first time i watched s4, and found zam’s perspective much easier to access, thus taking much of her view of the world as the truth. I stand by my points here for the most part, but there’s still more to say about it.

some of that is all the stuff i get into in that last post, about the differences between spoke and vitalasy, how they play off of each other/use each other to their own ends in s4, and how zam's function as a camera is just as responsible for the position vitalasy ends up in as zam is on any direct interpersonal level. you have… many layers… of things people don’t want to talk about…. don’t know how to talk about… or, don’t want to present as part of their curated narratives.

it’s taken me forever to post this ask (it was sent on jan 10th) because i have found it impossible to come up with a concise answer. there is a lot going on here. let’s start by looking at that scene itself, The Lifesteal SMP Grand Finale, 5:58:24 - 6:15:00:

[spoke jumps in the void and /ops vitalasy.] Mapicc: Spoke, we kinda need you man. We might need you now.  Leo: I don't know about this anymore. I liked it when Spoke was flying, not Vitalasy. [vitalasy /kills everyone, attempting to bring everyone to spawn. no one understands what he’s doing.] Mapicc: Guys, everybody leave the server, don't give Vitalasy, uhh–any satisfaction. (...) Mapicc: Did we really just let Vitalasy end it? Zam: Yeah, I'm not okay with that. (...) Mapicc: Spoke just dm'd me. He said "Vitalasy and Ash have begged me for months to give them the same power. They had equal part in the creation of the exploit, and I just had better timing than them. Let's just hope they do the best with what they have." Zam: So Vitalasy and Ash both have op now. We have nothing 'cause all our items came from Spoke, so. Also, all our echests were cleared, so. I think we're more than fucked if we stay. Mapicc: You know what's crazy? At the end of the day, after all the shit Spoke talks, he still trusted Vitalasy more than us. Zam: I–that's a good point. Yeah, 'cause–that–wow. That hurts. Yeah. He–wow. Mapicc: Mhm.

note the way spoke phrases this message. vitalasy failed to do what spoke did, and then he begged spoke for that same power. this particular wording will be repeated.

a question is also raised in this exchange: it is ostensibly true that spoke trusted vitalasy more than he trusted zam and mapicc, but can it really be said that spoke trusted vitalasy? how much did spoke trust vitalasy? what does trust even mean here? we know that parrot is the only person spoke truly prioritizes in season 4; parrot opposes spoke, but he is collaborated with. vitalasy collaborates with spoke, but…

Zam: We didn't even get a screenie with like, everyone by the void!

in the ensuing chaos, vitalasy interrupts what everyone thought was the server’s final moment. everyone just wants this whole thing to be over, zam especially wants this whole thing to be over. i don’t think there’s anything vitalasy could have done at this point that would have landed. spoke hung onto his power until this last possible moment, /op-ing vitalasy only when there was nothing left to be done. If vitalasy was trying to usurp or upstage spoke, he would have been thoroughly defeated by this.

Zam: [reading a chat message] Vitalasy, mr. "I don't want to be god" Yeah, what the fuck. That's such a switch up, this entire time he's been begging for power? That's crazy. [spoke logs back on and tells everyone to join live 4. he organizes this little meeting, says “let’s give subz and vitalasy space to give their thoughts.”]

and spoke’s continued presence here is fascinating. that moment where he jumps in the void feels like it should be an ending, passing the baton to vitalasy, but that isn’t what he does. he hovers, directing the conversation. that isn’t how you handle this if you trust him. but it isn’t just that; there’s nothing left for spoke to lose, it’s all over. so he must want to hear whatever it is he thinks vitalasy has to say. 

Vitalasy: Hey guys. How's it going. How'd you like it? Was it a little thrilling, I hope? Zam: Like what? Vitalasy: The end of the season? Zam: [unenthused] It was a... crazy fight. Pretty cool. Vitalasy: Did you have fun? Zam: I'd go far enough to say so, yeah. Vitalasy: Awesome. Then I couldn't have asked for more, actually. [Zam does the thing where you zoom in on your own face in F5, looking into the camera.] Zam: Mhm. Vitalasy: I mean as Spoke said, we've been kinda orchestrating the season. Um, from the very beginning. Since the very first day, we've had access to such items, or such exploits–if you guys have any questions we're down to answer them, now that the uh, season's over and stuff. Umm. Spoke: Yo, can we like, all meet up somewhere? [Spoke teleports all of the Lifesteal members to the swamp outside of spawn.] Spoke: I wanna hear the master plan again. Zam: Oh god. Mapicc: There is no master plan. Spoke: Let's hear it, let's hear it again. Vitalasy: What–I don't know what master plan you're talking about. Mapicc: Yeah, 'cause you didn't have one. Zam: What's going on, yeah, I'm confused. Vitalasy: I just wanted everyone to have fun on the server. I missed the good old–I still do. I think–[interrupted by clutch still being banned] Spoke: Alright, keep talking, keep talking. Keep the talk. Vitalasy: I–I don't have much to say besides, I really hope you all had fun. That–that's it. That's what this game's for, that's why we play on the server. We can stop crying, moping, coping over each other. [Zam looks into the camera again.] Mapicc: You do that harder than anyone. [there's a weird, awkward silence.] Spoke: So, the console just de-opped both of you. Vitalasy: Hm? Mapicc: Parrot's on. Before he turns the server off, or does something drastic, good–[interrupted by Clutch]–shut the fuck up–oh yeah okay, you guys go. Zam: No, let Mapicc talk. Please let Mapicc talk. Please. Mapicc: Before Parrot turns off the server, or does whatever, 'cause he just got de-opped from console, good job coming in second, Vitalasy. I hope you're really glad. Vitalasy: What do you mean? Spoke: Oh my god bro. Zam: That was deep. That was deep. Mapicc: You're talking, you keep saying "we." Like you've really accomplished anything here. You turned people against each other and you go "hey guys! I really hope you had fun!" as if you planned all of this. Spoke did everything! You–you had to beg him for operator.

vitalasy showing up at the end here is pure anti-climax, of course nobody is fucking with it. and he’s kind of turning the anti-climax into the point, about how all of this only matters because they behave as if it matters, how the game itself doesn’t matter, but the people you’re playing it with do. except everyone he’s playing with is mad at him (barring itzsubz, who might be mad at princezam.) It is in fact patently absurd to walk up to a bunch of people who have spent the past several months loudly not having fun and go, i hope you had fun!

some of them probably did have fun with wormhole. but they’re counting that as spoke’s victory, something vitalasy had nothing to do with, so they’re mad at him for acting like he did. spoke’s word choice pops up again.

and then vitalasy does this, which is even funnier, because it reinforces the angle mapicc is taking here, even though it’s the wrong angle:

Vitalasy: Like I wasn't the one who gave it to him? Spoke: WOAH! WHAT THE FUCK! [continues shouting, incomprehensibly] Vitalasy: Alright buddy, calm down, calm down. From the beginning, from the beginning. Spoke: Yeah, you wanna rephrase that? Mapicc: HOW OLD ARE YOU GUYS?

this is the thing with vitalasy. he doesn’t want to do what spoke did, but he does want recognition.

Zam: I don't get this, what the hell? Mapicc: You know where humanity would be if gods acted like this, bro? How are you guys gonna call yourselves gods, you're morons. All of you. Well, except for Zam. Zam has a brain.

(funniest mapicc quote of all time. ZAM HAS A BRAIN?)

Spoke: I wanna say–I want a verbal apology, whenever, after you explain the plan. Vitalasy: No, I mean, we've been working together from the start of it, we've always been talking, no matter what side we've been on. Clutch: But how come it felt like you were in the background of it? Vitalasy: I–I don't wanna take the front and center. I don't like doing the whole–  Mapicc: [so much crosstalk happening] You weren't front and center, Vitalasy. Vitalasy: Hm? Mapicc: You–You're not... you're nowhere near as calm and collected as you say you are. Clutch: But, what did you mean by "we would all be okay?" When I called you earlier today? Vitalasy: That's for later. Clutch: LATER WHEN? WHAT? Zam: What does that mean. What does that mean. What later? WHAT LATER? Clutch: THE SERVER'S DONE. Vitalasy: Yeah. Zam: What do you mean? What? Mapicc: He doesn't know what to say. He didn't have this planned out Zam: I feel like, yeah, I feel like you just missed everything and now you're trying to like, pull something. I don't know. Clutch: You just came in and /killed all of us, and just–  Vitalasy: I was just trying to bring us back to spawn here, but. Mapicc: I think arguing is pointless. I just wanna say again, Vitalasy, good job coming in second. 'Cause if–that's what you accomplished. Vitalasy: To what? Mapicc: To Spoke! To everybody! At the end of the day, you have never been in first place, Vitalasy. Vitalasy: Why do I need to be? Mapicc: And I think it's starting to get to you. I don't think you need to be, 'cause you clearly aren't. I think you want to be, and I don't think it's gonna happen. So, go ahead and explain to us your plan, but at the end, Spoke is what–Spoke is what actually made change.

he’s fine with the role he played in comparison to spoke for a number of reasons, and one of them is the fact that he will get his video in the end regardless of all of this; whether or not you win at lifesteal doesn’t really matter if the story you’ve decided to tell is about the glitch itself more than it is about lifesteal.

but his scheme was also never something that disregarded lifesteal, even if that was how it felt to everyone else. we know that vitalasy tried to be careful in his execution of the whole thing, to keep things from being revealed too early and destroying the stakes, wanted it to be fun for the players. he isn’t without blame in things playing out the way they did, but comparing vitalasy’s side of the story with spoke’s, it really looks like spoke was actively lying to vitalasy as he went against that part of his plan.

when vitalasy initially takes the “breaking the cycle” angle with zam, it’s a combination character move and attempt at damage control (the prison was never meant to be bedrock), not something that reflects his true motivations. vitalasy wanted the game to continue; vitalasy did all of this in the first place in large part because he was trying to fix it, to re-balance it. but those attempts fail, and he is effectively pushed out of the game, reaching a point where his only real option is to ban himself because nobody is playing with him anymore. 

despite all of this, in This Exploit changed Minecraft HISTORY... vitalasy glosses over any and all possible tensions between himself and spoke: 

Vitalasy: Project Wormhole officially began on January 21st 2023. Our mission: use the exploit to increase server activity and fun. We’d accomplish this in three ways: firstly, for the next five months, we’d use the exploit to keep balance on the server, as the reason people stopped playing was because of the mass disparity between powerful and weak players. Secondly, we’d use the exploit to give players a genuine feeling of having fun playing the game. And finally, we’d create a mystery on the server, hinting at a doomsday in which we would finally destroy the server in order to prove to Mojang that this glitch had catastrophic abilities.

It’s always, “we,” “our plan,” presenting the exploiters as a united front. what stands out most about this is that he, personally, would probably look better if he pinned it all on spoke, or ash for that matter. you have a scapegoat for everything going wrong, he’s right there! you could try to absolve yourself. you could at least frame it the way spoke frames you? but in the video, things only start going wrong when 3ht finds the vault, an outside party to the exploiters as a team. he highlights the use of replay, and glosses over the actual reasons 3ht went looking; not because they were engaging with vitalasy’s game as he intended it, solving the mystery he laid out, but because they wanted to prove that he was lying to zam. of course, the tradeoff for not throwing spoke under the bus is getting to claim spoke’s successes as his own successes. and for all intents and purposes, they are.

Vitalasy: Everything was going perfectly as planned. Every day we were revealing new items or mobs to the server. And every day, the players would log on to see what was new. (...) But just when we thought our plan was secured, on March 27th, a player named PlanetLord was looking to solve the mystery of where these items were coming from. While searching for answers, he used a mod that basically lets you X-ray, and found one of the barrel stashes in which Project Wormhole was supplying from.

when he presents his own goals as shared goals, that includes his intention to patch the glitch, even though spoke didn’t know that was his ultimate goal. something he does tell zam, the one who was supposed to stay in the dark about this whole thing until the end–a fact that complicates the trust question. vitalasy, spoke, and ash were all using the exploit to completely different ends. spoke and ash’s individual goals align much better with one another than either does with vitalasy’s interests. for ash’s part, he seems to be a pure opportunist in all of this. he ends his video with the events of early february and barely mentions the wormhole proper; all he wants is the power to get a little revenge and carry out his ego trip, so it makes sense that he isn’t bothered about getting /op in the end, or interested in competing with spoke.

you have spoke’s plan, the heavy lifting involved in manipulating parrot–we know vitalasy was involved in the planning, we’re shown footage of them discussing it in calls together, testing the sign that will change the time of day and secretly pull a /gamemode, etc. vitalasy isn’t the one executing any of this but he has a vested interest in spoke’s success, since all of his plans rest on it. you have vitalasy’s plan which, aside from the part spoke wasn’t aware of, is interested in the presentation of it all; how am i telling this story? how do we reveal things over time in a way that keeps the other players invested? we get very little information on spoke’s involvement in any of this, and it would be fair to assume these things weren’t his priority. spoke cared about balancing things during wormhole, but did he care before that? vitalasy still refers to it as “our” plan even when he does acknowledge that spoke and ash went against it, but does that reflect them actually being on the same page? something tells me they weren't. If it’s true that the balancing aspects of vitalasy’s plan largely came into play post-dupe-war, in response to dupe-war, spoke must have been committed to his own plan and his own set of priorities before vitalasy laid all of this out.

details aside, not knowing that vitalasy had an ulterior motive explains why spoke wouldn’t consider that vitalasy honestly wanted him to be the frontman, even though vitalasy explicitly told him as much; why do all of this, if you didn’t want something more? he just incorrectly assumes what it is vitalasy wants.

Vitalasy: I'm... confused. You support Spoke? Spoke's plan? Zam: Yes. Yeah, that's–like, yeah. Vitalasy: Cool. I'm fine with that–  LifestealAdmin: Yo guys, can I get a word? Zam: What's up LifestealAdmin, please say whatever you want. Please, feel free. LifestealAdmin: So, uh... [bans Vitalasy and Subz] I just banned them. [everyone laughs, and applauds] Mapicc: Vitalasy, good job coming in third! Spoke: Hold on, hold on, hold on, actually–actually hold on. Let's unban Vitalasy, let's unban Subz. I actually don't want beef. I actually don't want beef. (...) Okay, I don't want beef, so I wanna hear, what–what is the–what is like, the last thing you wanna do before the server moves on to season 5. Because obviously like, I don't–I don't know, like, Parrot doesn't typically like, /op the server. Mapicc: Spoke, I want you to close the wormhole. Zam: Oh yeah true, can you get rid of everyone? Yeah. Spoke: Hey, I kinda said like, uhh, 11:59 was the end of the civilization event. Mapicc: Spoke, I want you to close the wormhole. Me and Zam joined you for one reason and one reason only, and that was for people to lose the ability to play. If there is a bunch of people on right now, it is completely against what me and–  Vitalasy: Bruh, that was literally what I was doing. Spoke: I have a–okay, I can /ban @a... yeah, that could work. Vitalasy: Dog, I was literally banning all the new players. Spoke: Yeah, okay, my bad. [Spoke bans all of the new players, and Subz and Vitalasy, and LifestealAdmin.] Spoke: Whoopsies. LifestealAdmin, I'm so sorry. [he unbans them.] Spoke: Okay, final–final plan. Vitalasy, Subz. I–I just wanna hear it. Because, I think–uh, from my perspective–from my perspective of all of this, like, we both had an equal hand in discovering, like, the exploit. I mean, we've joined calls with the–the literal, like, creator of it, that has spent the past like, two years of their life like, learning about it, exploring it. And, I mean, we pushed the boundaries of it together. We took it from what was once just a little like–like, chat visual glitch, to an actual like, physical, game breaking glitch. And, I mean, I can–like–I can't thank you enough for that. But, I knew when I first found it–I–and when I first learned the possibilities of it, that only one could get op. Vitalasy: Yep. Spoke: Now, with that being said, I wanna hear your final goal with all of this.

let’s pivot for a second. here’s exactly what spoke has to say about this scene in complete wormhole breakdown, 57:40 - 1:02:10:

Spoke: The two things I have not explained so far is, the dynamics between the rest of the players, and Vitalasy and Subz. And Ashswag. Now I also removed this from the final cut, but this was originally going to be a major plot point in the video, and I still actually don't know the full truth of it, and that's why I removed it, because I still don't understand the full reality of it. Spoke:  But, I am honestly under the assumption that Vitalasy was working with Parrot in the finale. That may sound like a crazy conspiracy, and it probably is, 'cause I don't think he actually did, but I fully believed he did. (...) Yeah, I fully believed that–[reading a chat message] I mean Parrot asked Vitalasy to help? YES! YEAH, I REMEMBERED–yeah, okay, yeah. I also–so, during, when I first got op, like the days after, Vitalasy was constantly messaging me to also get op. And now, I’ll give him credit, like, Vitalasy was the reason why I even found the exploit in the first place, and was the person who got me in contact with Silicat, but the reason why I didn’t give him op, and I told him like, oh it’s just like a safety hazard you know, like I’ll make sure to give you guys op in the very end, like, that’s what I told him, and I told Ash the same thing, but Ash was more like, he was like “okay, I get that.” He’s like, “as long as you can give me the force, like, wands i’m fine with that.” So, Ash was really chill.  Spoke: But Vitalasy on the other hand–Vitalasy, because he, I also didn’t say this, but in May 1st, Parrot reveals to me that Vitalasy did, um, help him with the ban thing. And Vitalasy never told me about it! Vitalasy never told me that Parrot and him were like, working together. And when Parrot told me about this, I assumed it was just used to like, to convince me to stop working with them, but that’s where I realized later that, Parrot and Vitalasy were probably in cahoots. They were probably–what was probably happening was, Parrot was trying to get Vitalasy to get op, so that then I’d show him to like, the control room, he can see all my repeating command blocks, and then once he can remove all of that, he could take me off the server. And… I knew /op-ing vitalasy would probably be the one way I would get defeated. So, that’s why Vitalasy never got op, and there was a lot more points, especially after the vault was found, where I was definitely consider–considering leaving the team entirely, to focus on May 1st myself. But I knew if I left the team, then the exploit would get out there, Vitalasy–or, Parrot would learn the truth, and then it would just… not work. (...) Spoke: This was also where I /opped Vitalasy and like, Subz and Ash. But… I wasn’t really… I don’t even wanna talk about this. I’m kinda tired, I don’t really wanna talk about this. ‘Cause then, they started just like killing everybody and banning people and then this final convo happens where they… uh, I dunno. It’s weird. It’s a little–it’s weird. I don’t really like this. I–I even messaged Parrot to hop on LifestealAdmin and ban them. And he proceeded to do that and it was really funny.

so, what was spoke expecting in this moment? what did he want vitalasy to say? presumably, he was looking for a reveal. he wanted to be proven right, that he shouldn’t have trusted vitalasy, that it was never collaboration. the exploit is like a loaded gun on the table, neither spoke nor vitalasy can take the other out of the picture without destroying the chance to see their respective projects through, only vitalasy needs spoke, and past a certain point spoke really doesn’t need vitalasy (though again, where might he have been without someone else to take the fall?). but spoke correctly guesses that vitalasy isn't telling him everything, and he doesn’t understand that vitalasy requires his success in order to succeed himself, so he plays against him. you could in turn say that spoke is the one being played, but that’s the wrong way to look at it, we’ve been thinking on spoke’s terms here. vitalasy presents them as a united front.

Vitalasy: I mean, as I gained the powers more and more, from you, and from the barrels, and all that, I realized it's... not that fun. To have it all. To have /op? To have everything? There's no difference. It doesn't–it doesn't make the game any more fun, and– 

of course spoke has no idea what to do with this. "I don’t really like this. It was weird." yeah, i bet it was weird, mr. "and that feeling... was pretty cool." 

and it still leaves the question, if it isn’t fun, why did you want it so bad? for this? to make a point? to prove something to yourself, to try to prove something about yourself to everyone else? …to prove that you’re better than i am?

in this regard, vitalasy is a fundamental threat to his power. not just being–in spoke’s own words–the only thing that could have defeated him in the end, if he did get op and choose to use it against him, but–assuming his fears were unfounded–in the fact that spoke was wrong to consider vitalasy a threat. that vitalasy only earnestly wanted him to succeed, was really only playing at opposing him. that at the end of the day, vitalasy wanted something different from what spoke wanted. 

an extrapolation: you are working with him but you know, in the back of your mind, that you have to beat him to the finish line. you reveal the exploits earlier than he wants, knowing it will lessen his chances and aid your own. In the end, you discover that it was never even a race.

Zam: So why'd you do it?  Vitalasy: I never wanted, I never wanted to be the one to take down the server, to be the tyrant, or any of that.

this is where vitalasy fails to fully articulate himself. he dodges zam’s question entirely. how do you gain enough of that power to realize you didn’t want it, if you never wanted it in the first place? i think we’re all familiar with the defense mechanism which supposes a realization as having happened sooner than it really did, allowing you to have never been wrong in the first place. he’s a little more forthcoming in Season 4 Is Over!, 31:00:

Vitalasy: I realized like, a few things this season. One thing is like, I learned a bunch about myself. Like, and who I want to be for future seasons. Another thing was like, I remember end of season 3, I was like "oh my god, I've never been the bad guy. I've never like, tasted the feeling of being a villain. And... once we had exploits, and had everything, all the power in the world, it... it just felt like nothing. Hah. And I mean, luckily Spoke is the one to take it to the extreme. But you and I stayed pretty chill on this, and–  Subz: We did have every opportunity ever to do exactly what Spoke did. Vitalasy: Yeah, we literally had access to the same exact items to get operator as well, so like. Subz: Yep. Vitalasy: I don't know. That just says something to myself, about who I am. Like, I can't believe I did that. If I told myself like a year ago, in season 4 you're gonna get op, you're gonna have the ability to get op? I would have taken it and gone crazy. But here we are. Like, barely used it, up until the very end.  Subz: I guess we just don't like exploits. We're just anti-exploiters. Vitalasy: Nah–no, no, I think–I wanted–I always had the idea of like, only use exploits if other people are using a worse exploit, basically. And it's funny, I think I told you this, like... they, Baconwaffles–like, Solar Union, um... and the entire server was mad at us and targeted us for having an exploit. Even though we were using that exploit to defend ourselves, against larger exploits to come. Yet, here we are with the larger exploits. And because I–we had gotten rid of so much of it, we weren't able to help as much. Subz: It was too late. Vitalasy: I just think it's ironic, and it's–ahh... lesson learned, I guess. Subz: Lesson learned.

here vitalasy admits that he did set out to be the “tyrant.” he wanted to know how it felt, and he got his answer. everyone knows that he did, intuitively, because it was obvious–and he had (obliquely) admitted the same to zam, before.

but that still isn’t a complete explanation. during wormhole, vitalasy is still suffering from the strange results of his attempt to split his in-game and out-of-game motives down the middle. It allows him to say completely contradictory things–i set out to be the bad guy, but i was only ever using the exploits for good, in self defense!–and mean them on some level, even though to everyone else it reads as nothing but lies–but if this is all he has to offer in the end, what were the lies in service to? why did he do all of this? and he still can’t explain it even if he wanted to, because the video he did it all for isn’t out yet. he’s still trapped in the web of stupid problems he’s created for himself even as he’s trying to explain how much he learned from said problems, and how different it’s made him.

everyone involved understands, on some level, that whatever vitalasy was trying to do has already fallen apart, but he’s standing here acting like he’s won something. they don’t understand how spoke’s victory can also be his victory. they are misidentifying what it is that has failed, and they’re missing the fact that, though he could have never known going in, he needed it to fail more than he needed it to succeed. that this is a victory of its own.

while everything is still going to plan, spoke’s role as the one orchestrating the wormhole makes it possible for vitalasy to play a character who will fight against it, and once everything starts falling apart, spoke’s presence is what allows him to step back and ban himself and get excited for the wormhole despite it all. this means that even before he’s experienced the full consequences of having set himself up to play the villain and failing to follow through, he still tends towards framing himself as somehow justified/right/good. It’s just that it changes over time from something he thinks is serving a dramatic reveal into something he needs to be the truth. i don’t know how vitalasy expected the server to react to him, or to his character, or to the revelation of his character as a construct–we know he wanted it to be fun, wanted things to unfold in such a way where the spirit of the game remained intact, but the original trajectory of it all makes him look so much worse than his failures do; lying to zam the entire time, knowing that zam might betray in the end and stringing her along anyway. 

the way vitalasy describes it in that behind the scenes video, he’s describing the videos he wanted to make. in phase 5, in my video, i’ll explain everything. but when do the other players find out? would this moment, the end of the wormhole, have been that reveal for them? look, i had all of this power and i only used it for good. but now there’s nothing left to reveal. you gave it all away, and all that’s left is yourself.

vitalasy was already placed in a position where there was nothing he could do to convince anyone of anything, for reasons largely beyond anyone’s control. if he could have just committed to playing the villain, it might have fixed everything. It would have given the bedrock prison a purpose, at least. but he couldn’t, because it would require compromising his own needs. and even if he had, they still would have been mad at him–there was no winning. If there was no spoke figure there to keep the plan in motion, if it was just vitalasy, things would have been much worse. vitalasy would have been infinitely more trapped in that position and if he had still refused it, there would have been no finale to deliver some sort of payoff.

as such, spoke and ash revealing everything too early is the pivot point that simultaneously destroys everything and saves vitalasy, in a weird way. It forces him to be honest with zam, to have to try and make it work anyway. to be himself, instead of maintaining the character split. It makes sense that vitalasy isn’t mad about it. it had to happen. the trajectory he was on wasn’t working.

season 4 is lifesteal as a system working against itself. they're being held hostage by the audience, by the secrets that have to be kept from the audience, and by the fact that they are people trying to function on narrative rules. some of them are manipulating each other for real; some of them are backpedaling on that trajectory hard and not being believed, because of the true potential to be manipulated for real. no one can explain anything to each other, there’s no pre-negotiation, no trust, no one can ask for what they want. you might hope that, having reached the final moment of it all, this would stop being true. but it doesn’t. no one is able to articulate it. they just keep on talking past each other. vitalasy tries to articulate it, but he can’t get all the way there.

[LifestealAdmin whispers to Zam: I'm having a LOT of fun!!!! :) x4] Vitalasy: Anyways, I'm very glad that I could be, you know–that you could have taken that role for me. [silence, for a moment.] Mapicc: That said, what is the plan? Vitalasy: Ummm, Minecraft? Clutch: Let's have a minecraft party! Vitalasy: You guys can move on to the new server if you want, but personally? I'd just like to go fishing with my friends. There doesn't need to be some big ending, why don't we just play? How we want to play? Mapicc: Because it's already way far past fishing peacefully in Minecraft right now. Look around you. Zam: I don't–yeah, no, this place is so messed up. I don't know how you could try to stay here.  Vitalasy: Exactly, that's what I'm saying. You guys can move on. LifestealAdmin: Boys, boys, I'm gonna be honest bro, like, I just think everybody's rationale is dookie booty, see you next season, boys. [Everyone is banned. Zam laughs.] Mapicc: You know what Zam, does that count? I'll take that. Zam: Does that count? That does count, yeah.

vitalasy’s wormhole video is, as far as i know, the only video to include this scene at all. It’s the final piece of lifesteal footage shown, before vitalasy ends it talking about how he succeeded in getting the glitch patched. we get one line of dialogue from vitalasy, and then it cuts away–knowing, having seen it, that this is because there’s nothing else of it he could have included without calling the rest of the video into question. not just the parts that make himself look better, all of it. he would have to acknowledge the fact that he’s tying it all up in a bow and the bow doesn’t fit right.

Vitalasy: As players flooded the server I smiled with glee, knowing that this was not only about to be the end of the server, therefore forcing us all to make a new server and start fresh, but also the ending of Project Wormhole. I fought against the wormhole with the other players to make the event fair, but the doomsday continued as planned. As hours went by, totems were removed, hearts were taken, and effects were cleared, all to build up to the moment when we could finally /stop the server for good. But the more I fought against the wormhole, the more I found myself… not… having fun. While the players had a goal, to survive the wormhole event, because I knew everything, I didn’t really know what to do. I could have continued mindlessly going into battle against the wormhole, but at the time, that simply didn’t seem enjoyable. For so long I had hidden behind the curtains of my great project, and now watching it unfold, I had no role to play. So seeing my best friend next to me, just as lost as I was, for the first time in eleven months, I decided to put the wormhole project aside.  [cut to recording; the end of their confrontation with zam, decontextualized.] Vitalasy: Why don’t we just log off? Don’t you remember like, the good old days? Days of minecraft. Building, just… playing minecraft. [cut] Subz: why the hell does it matter what other people want. Or, not really like that but like– Vitalasy: No, I get what you mean. We are doing what we want for us. Subz: Yeah, yes, yes. That’s what I meant. [back to voiceover] Vitalasy: So we waited and watched, as the server we used to care about crumbled. Because in the end it didn’t matter, server or not. We learned what mattered most. That's why we made Project Wormhole; to end the server while bringing its players closer together. Us included.

that’s why we made project wormhole; to end the server while bringing its players closer together. us included. 

[PARROT STARED AT ME, AS HE REALIZED: I DIDN’T JUST EXPLOIT A GAME, I EXPLOITED A FRIENDSHIP I HAD BUILT OVER YEARS. VIDEO AFTER VIDEO, I LIED ABOUT THE EXPLOITS, I LIED ABOUT THE STORY, I LIED ABOUT THE NPPP TO ARTIFICIALLY CREATE HIS PURPOSE. I LIED TO THE VIEWERS, I LIED TO MY FRIENDS, I LIED TO GET TO THIS PLACE, THE ONE PLACE THAT WAS DEEMED IMPOSSIBLE. BUT THE TRUTH IS? THAT ANYBODY COULD HAVE ABUSED THE WORMHOLE. BUT NOBODY COULD HAVE DONE WHAT I HAD ACHIEVED.]

and spoke thinks, why did you forgive me? I thought you’d hate me for it. but you don’t.

princezam says: you aren’t allowed to forgive me. 

vitalasy thinks: i wish you would forgive me. I wish you would forgive yourself.

vitalasy and subz stand there after she leaves and they say, maybe it was only ever meant to be the two of us–vitalasy bookends this same scene, decontextualized, with the sentiment that he and subz were brought together through all of this.

��.at what cost? what a hollow win condition. It wasn’t about that. 

we’re doing what we want for us. and it is selfish, by some measures. by zam’s measures, and maybe by everyone else’s too, what vitalasy does in season 4 is selfish. the wormhole is, on the parts of everyone involved, a scheme prioritizing their stories over everyone else's in true lifesteal fashion, declaring narrative control, orchestrating the shape of an entire season; a year of everyone’s lives. vitalasy could not end further from where he began: there is no climax to my story, there is no twist ending, there’s just me. he set it all up with the intention of there being those things, and in the videos where he can gain back distance and narrative control, maybe there is. but over the course of season 4 it all unravels, until it’s just him. and isn’t this the same lesson zam had to learn with eclipse? that you can’t compromise yourself? that you might end up in a situation and realize that it’s not what you want, and have to find a way to get yourself out of it. even an inelegant one. It isn’t just vitalasy creating a role that zam can’t fill, it’s zam doing it back at him, too, building on the framework until the whole thing collapses for both of them. how do you explain the realization that you don’t want what you thought you wanted, but that all of the time wasn’t wasted, because you had to go through it to get where you are now, even though you would never do it again? you don’t. tie it up in a bow.

a contradiction: the server isn’t what matters, the people are what matters, but we refuse to give it up–we’ll be back. and what’s with his fixation on the day one fishing spot, anyway? this juxtaposition where it can be both the site of the exploit’s discovery and the epitome of normal minecraft the way vitalasy talks about it, some sort of threshold. what would that moment have been without the exploit, is that the question? no, because vitalasy doesn’t regret doing it. he needed to do this, to learn from it. but now he’s done. why does vitalasy want to revisit that originary moment–a moment spent with the other exploiters? us included. why does he want to stay in the world, explore its ruins, build an ugly house, hang all of his sentimental items on the wall? vitalasy and subz talk about zam like they don’t want to remember her, and she’s absent from these final videos, but she gets hung on the wall too.

two years later, princezam says: i need to forgive myself through you.

the locus of tension in the final eclipse argument–part and parcel with the things people will refuse to talk about, moving forward–is on the fact that zam hates herself and what she’s done and the situation she’s found herself in, but she won’t actually do anything to make it better. it takes her two years afterwards to even begin to work it out. that scene is the climax of their personal stories in season 4 and it amounts to vitalasy, having been changed so dramatically in large part because of the effect zam had on him, running into the fact that she is rejecting that same kind of change in favor of taking her anger out on the world and with it, herself. she wants to leave it behind, and she wants to forget it happened. spoke, for his part, seems to take about the same amount of processing time on all of this that zam does.

this final scene is just a nail in a coffin. people talking past each other. at that moment in time, vitalasy and the rest of lifesteal rendered incapable of understanding each other.

Zam: I'll talk to Bacon about it. (...) Maybe I can talk to Mapicc about it. [pause] ugh, but then I'm scared that they're gonna be like–nah, cause like, I don't–I don't wanna talk to someone about it and then they'll just be like, yeah, no, Vitalasy was like, evil. And then it's like–cause like–everyone–everyone on the server at that point strongly believed that he was, right? I don't know.

how do you talk about that? first, you just don’t understand it. you cannot seem to grasp what he’s telling you, nothing to be done with it. later… maybe you would understand it. but it’s been so much time, and admitting you were wrong is really one of the hardest things in the world (and telling someone else that they were wrong might be harder still).

[lexirosewrites]

Something vaguely spooky this week for slick sunday

[A weird Nosferatu (2024) AU tht I am writing on & off with very vague ideas of how a plot would work: O!Steve is sensitive to the supernatural & it's exacerbated by his first run in w the Upside Down, vecna dies in s4 AU, eddie lives AU & is exonerated........ so have an excerpt or 4 from different points in the story bc it's mostly just disjointed scenes I wanted to write down for now]

[This first scene is following Steve getting involved in the Upside Down at the end of s1]

At 17 years old, Steve Harrington bolted awake as he fell from the edge of his nest to the floor of his bedroom. Desperate to get away from the creatures of his nightmare. He felt feverish and near delirious with the images that played behind his eyes. Heads full of mouths that bloomed like a horrific flower to reveal petals of sharp teeth, and stinking black saliva. Wallpaper bulging till it was torn away by long digits that were more claw than any other idea of anatomy the omega knew. Memories of what was yet to happen swam through his mind; raw meat, dog like horrors, cold cement tunnels, a towering monster of melted meat, and a grandfather clock tolling only three times till it is shattered.

Phantom sensations of horrible pain seared through his entire body. Steve hadn't slept through the night since his heroism in the Byers house. He was lucky now to get four hours of sleep, if at all. Insomnia had not troubled him since he was 13 years old, and now he felt too young once again. Because he'd begun to hear them once more; the different voices that whispered every night, different visions of different futures, and he'd awoken three times in the past two weeks to find himself standing out of his bed on his way to either the front door or worst of all the back door.

The omega's heart pounded like it might break his rib cage, and his blood thundered feverishly throughout his body. Desperately, he climbed back into his nest and clasped his hands together. He did not close his eyes. He could hear the antique clock in the hallway ticking with the passage of time. The young omega was alone in the house as his parents were away for work.

Steve then did something he never thought he could do, he reached out into the night in search of something to ease his pounding heart.

"If those things are real then anything can be real and maybe someone is listening. Please if there's a God, an ancestor I never knew, someone, a guardian angel, anyone, anything that can hear me, please. I just wish to feel safe to sleep again, to have the piercing pain in my skull fade even just a little."

A soft chime from the clock in the hall.

"Please, answer me."

A second chime.

"Hear my voice."

The final chime of the clock and the digital numbers beside his bed, that he could not see as his unblinking eyes drifted to the moonlight pouring in throigh his window, denoted the time was 3am. He whispered a phrase that felt like it echoed further than the walls of his room.

"Heed my call."

His window opened.

[A scene in the summer of 1986, the young adults have gathered at the Harrington’s house for a night of movies & drinking & smoking]

Steve slips off into a hazy sleep laid out on the comfortable couch of the houses communal den that his father had scented briefly before his parents left for their trip, the scent has faded. His eyelids grow heavy as he wonders about when his parents will call (it's been longer than usual) and the noise of all these people he trusts lulls him to sinking into a dream.

He dreams of himself in a different place. In a forest of trees he instinctively knows are not native to North America. Steve stands on a gravel road that he can see leads to a cross roads. Further away upon the side of a mountain, a castle is carved. His heart feels it might stop as he scents lilac flowers. As he hears a breath that is not his own.

Steve wakes up. He is standing in his backyard facing the forest. Robin is holding his hand, tightly, and he can scent her distress.

[Later in the story when stuff w the nosferatu is ramping up & everyone in the pack gets involved]

Everyone is talking. Everyone is planning how to help Steve's sleep walking. When El speaks up.

"There is something more. Something you think you can't tell us, but that I cannot see." Her eyes are older than someone her age, and Steve feels his heart seize as the room goes silent.

"It isn't the Upside Down." Steve starts. "It's-- he's-- I was a lonely kid. I had people who liked to say they were my friend but no one really meant it. Not till all of you. I have had this happen before-- sleep walking-- it lasted for a year, when I was thirteen. I don't remember how it stopped, but after getting involved in all of this," he gestured to show he meant the entire alternate dimension situation that brought them together "it started up again."

"What else?" Hopper asked. Now in a mode of information gathering, of investigating.

"One night-- I was so scared from not sleeping and my parents were gone and I kept seeing things that hadn't happened yet, that I reached out. I called out asking for anyone, someone. Anything to answer, to help me sleep and make the pain throbbing in my head not feel so awful." Steve took in a deep breathe as he forced out the next words. "Something answered."

[Another snippet related to the above but idk how to connect it yet]

"I will jump into your dream." El speaks so assuredly, her tone so confident, and everyone is agreeing. Except Steve.

"No. No, you can't."

"Why not? I am strong again, stronger."

"Yeah Steve, El can kick this guys ass out of your head." Mike is actually using a reassuring tone.

"It isn't Vecna!" Dustin jumps in. "She beat him--"

"Exactly! He isn't Vecna! He's-- he's worse!" Steve is frantic, they need to understand. El cannot risk jumping into his dreams.

"How can this guy be any worse Steve?" Robin is holding his hand and Eddie has placed his on the omega's shoulder.

"Because he isn't a mortal who was born with powers by chance or inheritance or by the fucked up design of a government!" Steve stands, shaking off their hands because he feels sick with anxiety, and begins to pace the length of the living room. "Because he's older than all of this! He isn't someone who will just let me go because a mortal girl pops into a dream and says so! He doesn't exist in some alternate dimension beneath our feet, he exists here! In this world! He doesn't lie to me, he won't tolerate an intrusion, he will find you El! He will know you are there, he will know you're trying to be there, and he will hurt you!"

The room is silent and every eye is on him.

"He will hurt you all and he will make me watch."

I haven’t seen Nosferatu, so I’m not able to fully understand this one, but it seems interesting!

[satanghulu]

his car isn’t yours

satan x g!n reader, cw: angst

“Tan.”

You watch him with that soft smile.

The blond went in for a hug, and your smile widened, pulling hard at the side of your lips. You step past him, glancing around the room. “How was the meeting?”

“It went okay.”

He paws at your arm, looking for attention. You let out a huff of laughter, letting him drape over you while you comb through his hair affectionately. He lifts you up and carries you over his shoulder in a practiced move.

You let out a loud squeal.

“Hey–” You hold on tightly as your throat goes dry, arm wrapping around the back of his neck.

“Missed you.” 

Sickeningly sweet, you think.

“Me too.” 

The words taste like lead in your mouth. 

Reaching his destination, he sets you down on the bed gently. Your arms drop, and you pull him in closer, a habit ingrained in you as you pepper kisses on his face. (Like a well-trained dog, really. It’s a bitter feeling.)

The room goes quiet, only the beating of your heart echoing. There’s a familiar knot in your stomach that comes and goes. 

“Tan?”

You refuse to call him anything but that damned nickname. (There’s nothing weird about using a nickname with your lover but you stare past him whenever you use it, almost like you’re searching for a shadow of someone behind him–)

He pauses and nudges his nose into the palm of your hand. It's almost sweet if he can ignore that your mouth forms the first syllabus of another name.

“I love you.”

Every emotion inside you bubbles, carbonated with thoughts. You still before forcing your fingers to curl in the tangles of his hair. “Me too.”

He smiles, hands creeping up to grasp your face.

“I know.” He lies. There’s no space for him to judge you. He rubs a finger up and down the web between your thumb and index finger.

“Thank you.” He lets himself be tangled in this web of pretense, it doesn’t matter to him. Silence hangs about both of you, and he lets himself close his eyes. (He wants to stay in this moment. He’s always been good at pretending to be someone else. Lucifer told him so too.)

You suck in a breath, a silver of teeth poking through. It feels stuffy, the taste of something metallic forms on your tongue.

“I’m sorry.”

He has always been good to you, and you love him. Just not the way he loves you. (Maybe in another lifetime, you could have built one together.)

You gently brush a finger over his brow bone, sweeping a strand of hair to the side. You echo an apology again, leaning down to place a kiss right between his eyes. 

He pretends to sleep, fingers tightening on the grasp of your clothes.

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 43: Light Behind The Door

TW

Description of panic attack/flash back

Master List | Prev | Next

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Seonghwa stated bluntly, shaking his head. “Sit down on your bed so I can check you out, please.  

“Hey, give me a break, be happy I slept yesterday uninterrupted.” You huffed, sitting down as he asked. “I’m not exactly in the best mental state, alright?” 

Seonghwa sighed, motioning if you could turn your face side to side so he could see how things were healing. “Have you been eating?” 

“As much as I can tolerate. Some days are better than others but I am trying to keep up eating at least once a day.” 

You could tell he didn’t like the answer by his frown but made no comment. “Pain?” 

“There is some pain. If I move weird or lay on my sides too long, my ribs and sides still hurt, but I can tolerate it. The burns on my side itch, especially the one on my chest but you said nothing can really help with that. I feel pretty weak too, but that could also be the mental block.” 

He asked you to unbutton some of your shirt so he could see the healing brand. You had removed the bandages prior to him coming in, knowing there was no use to cover it back up if it needed to be checked out. Leaning your head back, you tried your best to hold back from flinching when Seonghwa leaned in, but still leaned away. Seonghwa hummed, standing straight and turning to dig into his bag. 

“So far, everything is looking alright. I’m not concerned about anything physically. I’d like you to try and eat more, get more sleep as well. I did get that heart monitor, you could be fine at this point, however, please humor me and wear it for two weeks.” He showed you the small device, explaining that it needed leads and wires since the wireless one would need to sit on the sensitive skin around the brand. This made it easier to get around that. 

You weren’t going to like it, but you’d listen and do as you were told to get healthier. He asked you to reapply the bandages to your chest before continuing. Slowly, Seonghwa showed you where to place all the sticky leads, avoiding as much of the healing skin as possible. You hated the feel of the adhesive and the wires ghosting over your chest, skin crawling and the already annoying itch jumping to a new level. 

“Only two weeks and if it’s all clear, you can trash it, got it?” He managed to crack a small smile, seeing you pout and hearing your huff. “It’s going to be alright, Mouse, at some point you might not even feel it.”

“F to doubt.” You scoffed, dropping your gaze. “Can I ask you something?” 

Perking up, he nodded, bringing the rolling chair over and sitting down. “Of course you can, Mouse.” 

“Have you ever pursued therapy?” 

A quiet hum left him, nodding his head in understanding as he gazed aimlessly. “Personally, no, though multiple within ATZ have. Are you considering it?” 

“Last night I was asked by Cheol if I would. Rheia has someone, I said it was a good idea but I have a lot of self doubt that is fucking me up. And also needing to trust someone else with what I’ve gone through… I’m not sure of everything basically.” 

Staying silent for a moment, Seonghwa clasped his hands together in thought, leaving you wondering what was running through his mind. “You are going to be unsure of yourself every single day, there isn’t a doubt in the world about that. However, do you think you’ll regret not speaking with a professional to help? Will you regret not taking a healthy step to overcome this? In my eyes, the pros will always outweigh the cons of it. Yes, you can worry about trusting someone, but they hold more confidentiality then I probably would. If Rheia trusts this person, I doubt there will also be any issue.” 

Swallowing thickly, you understood what he meant perfectly. You would regret not pursuing help for yourself, you’d regret that you could stay a shell of yourself willingly. 

“Can I ask who in ATZ got therapy?” 

“Jongho, Hongjoong, San, and Mingi.” There wasn’t any hesitation in his answer, the strongest all have a low point. “All for similar but different reasons. They got treated nonetheless. They know when they want to go back after something happens. They know that it’s a safe space and it's a healthy space with no judgment. I believe they are stronger for seeking help since they are willing to treat themselves.” 

You unintentionally started to pick at the loose skin around your nails, giving a short, minuscule nod to yourself. “Did…you bring Jongho with you?” You were sure you heard him earlier…

Seonghwa snickered, shoulder shaking. “He has been yapping my ear off, asking to come today since you’ve replied to zero of his texts.” 

“Yeah, it was overwhelming with over a hundred messages between everything. I was lucky I could message one person in the house.”

“I could only imagine.” He shook his head and stood, reaching into his bag once more and retrieving the cream for your brand, bandages, and medical tape. “These should last you until I see you next, but let me know if that changes. Would you like for me to send Jongho in?” 

“If you don’t mind?” 

“Not at all. I’ll message you when I’d like to stop by next.” 

“Thanks, maybe next time I’ll be able to come to you.” 

His lips slipped once more into a gentle smile. “I’d like to see that, Mouse.” 

Seonghwa bid you a farewell, clicking his tongue just beyond the threshold. “You are a pest.” 

“Shut up-” You could hear the pout on Jongho’s face. 

“Go on, we came in the same car so please don’t take forever.”

A thank you left the younger man’s lips before Jongho stepped in, shutting the door behind him. He looked frazzled, needing a few nights rest similar to you, but you said nothing. They would be the pot calling the kettle black. He quickly placed himself down on the chair Seonghwa once occupied. 

“Hi.” He started and you let out a breathy laugh. 

“Hey, sorry for not getting back to you-” 

Jongho shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Don’t even worry about it. Wooyoung talked to Chan and they said you were alright so I wasn’t too worried.” 

“Thank god because opening my phone has been a no go. Too many messages.” You huffed out a sign, shivering at the thought. “Kinda wanted to send a mass fuck off but I decided against it.” 

“I think a lot of us might have raided the house if you did.” Hearing him laugh had a light, calm feeling settling in your chest. “But I'm glad you’ve been taking care of yourself as much as you can. You’ve been through something horrible and I’m proud of you.” 

“I have a long road ahead of-” 

“It is still a road to travel forward, no matter the bumps in it.” 

Your gaze fell, brushing your hair back from your face. “Jongho…Can you tell me why you went to therapy?” 

He paused then sat back, folding his head in his lap. “After I aged out of foster care, I had a lot of anger built up. I can’t even begin to describe it. Once you and I got separated, it just got more and more angry. I met Seonghwa at the clinic after I got into a fight on the street and was banged up pretty bad. I lashed out a bunch at him especially when he introduced me to Hongjoong. Joong suggested it and I’ve been going on and off for a lot of reasons from my childhood to my current work.”

You took in his words wordlessly, nodding along so he knew you were listening. He didn’t look troubled by talking about it either, which was refreshing. You know some people are scared to admit to seeking therapy due to the stigmas of mental health. 

“I’m going to try therapy out.” You admitted to him and the tenderest smile spread on his lips. Sighing through your nose, you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. “We’ll see how it goes. I’ve never gone before now.” 

“Unless they are shit, they will, well should , work on your pace to build up the confidence and trust to talk. Most have amazing patience. Mine matched my energy greatly back then and evolved how I needed them to.” He snickered, drumming his hands on his thighs before standing. “Tell me how it goes, okay? Let some people help if you can manage.” 

You shook your head but grinned. “I’ll try, Jongho. Tell everyone I said hi and that I’m doing okay so they don’t worry.” 

“Will do, chief. Get some rest.” Jongho gave a wave on his wave out, closing the door behind him.

You got the information from Seungcheol after Seonghwa and Jongho left. Staring at the number, ready to be called, you panicked, frozen on the bed.

Why was it so hard to ask for help? 

Was it your long standing hyper-independence? More than likely. You were used to handling all your issues by yourself. You were used to getting up despite your problems and moving on with your days. 

Now you couldn’t easily do that. 

You closed the phone app and directed yourself to your messages, finding the one group chat you needed at that moment. 

[To Threeway 12:23 PM]  Are you home? 

From beyond the door, you heard something drop and a call of Joshua’s name from Jeonghan. You couldn’t help the smile that fought to spread on your lips. 

[To Threeway 12:24 PM] Very subtle Can you both come here?

“Are we in trouble?” Joshua questioned Jeonghan and the other groaned. 

“If we are, I’m not at fault, I haven’t done anything. I am blaming Cheol if we did something wrong.”

They approached quickly and knocked, waiting to hear permission to enter before the door opened. They stepped in with wide eyes, curious as to why you had summoned them into your safe space. You tucked yourself into the pillows against the headboard, clearing your throat. 

“Can you sit?”

Jeonghan took his desk chair while Joshua pulled an ottoman over. They looked nervous, tired, maybe a little lost. Jeonghan’s nails were picked at and the skin around his nail beds were red and irritated. Joshua’s lips were dry, picked, and had definitely bled at some point. They looked as hollow as you felt. 

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Jeonghan fired off questions and you shook your head, leaving him stumped. “Then-” 

“How are you two ?” 

Both of them made a face, like you just asked the dumbest question on the planet. You waited, raising a brow the longer the silence stretched on. They shared a look, unsaid words you couldn’t read. When they both looked back at you, Joshua was the first to break.

“I miss you.” His shoulders dropped. “I’m worried about you. So is everyone else. We are just going through the motions of each day. It hasn’t been easy.” 

Jeonghan picked at his nails and you grabbed a small pillow, tossing it quickly at him. He huffs and sits on his hands like a child, leg bouncing anxiously. He takes longer to speak but his head drops when he does. 

“I can’t sleep. We know we can’t fix this and, god , does it fucking suck. I wish this was a dream we could all wake up from soon-” Jeonghan groaned out of frustration, throwing his head back. A sniffle was heard. “I’ll kill whoever hurt you the minute you feel comfortable enough to tell us, Mouse.” 

The seriousness in his tone wasn’t necessary to know he was speaking the truth. Joshua gave a short nod in agreement, the rest of SVT probably held the same opinion, let alone the entire mafia alliance.

The faces of the Monsta X members flashed behind your eyes and you sunk into the mountain of pillows. Goose bumps spread all over your body, skin stinging with pins and needles. Your eyes went unfocused, breath held in your lungs burned to come out. The back of your throat burned and you were reminded of the gasps for air you took once you were pulled out of the water filled box. Your mind honed in on the pain that subtly radiated through your rips and the skin covering there, the electrical burns you tried to ignore. You bit the inside of your cheeks, holding back from scratching your skin raw. 

You still felt trapped in Limbo, only a new version of it. 

“Mouse?” The call of your name snapped you back to reality. You boyfriends looked concerned, shaky eyes scanning you. “You with us?” 

Nodding, you blinked a few times to clear the fog that settled over your mind. Looking down, you noticed your nails were digging roughly into your palms, leaving harsh credent indents. Unclenching your hands, and your jaw, flattened your palms out on your thighs, sighing. 

“I’m trying to start therapy…for all of this.” You motioned aimlessly at yourself. “But I’m having a hard time calling to set up an appointment.” 

Joshua leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. “Do you know why it is hard?” 

“I have a few guesses.” Shrugging, you rolled your head to the side and felt the needed stretch. 

“Would you want to talk to us about them?” He continued, “if you are comfortable.” 

There wasn’t a reason to hide the reasons from them. You know you trusted them despite the proximity issue you had going on currently. 

“Asking for help when you’ve never seen a professional is hard. I’ve always been a keep it to yourself, hold onto it, and move on.” Your leg bounced with jitters. “I never sought out therapy before and now that I am, I’m nervous of what will happen. I have so many ‘what ifs’ running through my head that are also getting the better of me.” 

Jeonghan cleared his throat. “I can’t speak from experience, but…you won’t know what will happen until you call and take that step.” 

How did so many of them know what to say when you needed it even when the comments were simple? They spoke with grace and a wind beneath their wings. You envied the decorum they showed. 

You sucked in a deep breath and held it in your chest for a few seconds, calming the anxious heart beating. Placing a hand over the bandaged brand, you made up your mind and reached for your phone. 

“Will you both stay as I call and make the appointment?” Why the fuck were you nervous asking that? 

“Of course, sweetheart.” Joshua’s sweet, calming voice grounded you.

Jeonghan hummed his similar answer, smiling. “Always here to help, love.” 

It still took you a few moments to make the phone call, staring displeased at the numbers boring back at you. Your significant others were waiting with bated breaths, silence as you built up the mental courage to proceed. When you pushed the call button, they both gave you gazes full of pride but the dial tone spiked your anxiety. 

The woman who answered sounded nice, maybe an older woman. Before she was able to get any information, you informed her that Rheia had given you the number and she hummed into the phone. She asked you some general questions for your name, birthday, and asked if you’d like to be seen as soon as possible. She took a note of you saying you’d like online appointments to start, hearing the clicking on a keyboard on the other side of the line. You would need a computer and a webcam, the doctor deeming it a hundred per cent necessary to know what she was working with. 

By the end of the call, you had an afternoon appointment the next day, a lighter feeling in your chest, and two wide, gorgeous smiles gleaming back at you. 

“You did good, sweetheart.” Joshua beamed, nudging Jeonghan with his elbow. 

Jeonghan looked just as proud, still sitting on his hands to stop his nervous habits. “I’m – We’re proud of you.” 

“That took more energy out of me than I expected.” You slumped, pulling a pillow close to your chest. 

“Join us in the living room?” Jeonghan asked. “We can put on some movie and eat since we were going to make something anyways.” 

You thought through the idea, knowing you leaving the room would be beneficial. You also needed to speak to Wonwoo about using Pandora tomorrow afternoon…

“That sounds amazing…let’s go.”

It was the second time you had fallen asleep in the living room and woke hours later. Similar to the first time, you didn’t dream, only calm, necessary slumber. 

After your previous loveseat nap, you stayed up all night. Once Seungcheol went off to bed fully, you really tired to fall asleep once more in bed but it never came. Though he said he would wash the blankets, your antsy energy had you washing and drying them all, sitting impatiently on the floor of the laundry room. With hours to spare after the laundry, you…did all the dishes and cleared out the dishwasher

You snuck into Pandora again, continuing on with simple games and a movie to occupy you, curled up in your bundle of blankets. At some point, you fell asleep, waking up to a nightmare covered in sweat, and trudged upstairs after cleaning up to sit in Jeonghan’s room. 

Now it seemed about the same. 

The house was peacefully quiet, you definitely missed dinner but a small note was on the side table, only noticed when you sat up. 

Didn’t want to wake you, dinner is in the fridge - JS 

There was a small, attempted doodle of a chicken, if you had to guess, directly under his handwriting. It made you shake your head and smile. Quietly, you found the plate of baked chicken and vegetable medley. How did you honestly sleep through them cooking? Typically they were loud, sound filling the whole house, especially at dinner time. 

“Maybe games…” You whispered to no one, heating up the food in the microwave, watching it spin and spin until it was heated through. “Definitely games…” 

With food in hand and a blanket acquired, you kicked the Gengar bean bag chair towards the door to Pandora. You pushed it down the stairs, landing unceremoniously at the door. You tried to step over it to press your hand to the print pad, keeping the food from spilling, and pushing the door open with some struggle. 

Kicking the bean bag through the door and shutting it behind you, the clearing of someone’s throat had you looking up. 

Wonwoo was sitting comfy in his computer chair, hair a mess, headphones on, and two monster energy drinks beside his keyboard. He pushed his glasses up tiredly, blinking up at you. 

“Hey,” He spoke first, eyeing the bean bag chair. 

“Typically you are asleep at this time.” 

“You know I know you’ve been coming in here, right?” It was an innocent question, there wasn’t any accusation behind his tone. 

You set your lips in a flat line, kicking the bean bag chair lightly to make more talking room. “Kinda figured. I only came down when you weren’t here because- you know…” 

A beat of silence passed before he snorted, holding back his grin. “You want me to leave my space?” 

“What- no- shut up.” You stammered, shaking your head. “It’s fine, just-” 

“Not too close, got it.” 

You paused, stepping away from the bean bag chair. “This is heavy, can you help me?” 

Wonwoo let out a low rumble of a laugh and took his headset off to stand. You moved further away, letting him easily lift your gift from Jun, finally being put to use after a while. He waddled over to the lounge area and placed it in a spot beside the coffee table, pushing said table over to make more room. 

His eyes shifted to you, wordlessly inquiring if it was good enough.  With your nod, he returned to his previous spot at his desk and you moved to settle down with your food and blanket. You ate quietly, listening to each clack of him pressing keys on his keyboard in the tranquil space. 

“Do you want to play a game?” You asked, both of you knowing the meaning behind your outwardly innocent question. There was always a conversion to follow the flow of video game teamwork. You had questions and he would give you honest, non- I’ll kill them answers. 

Lifting your head to look back at him, there was hesitation in his eyes. 

“Are you sure?” 

Those words rested heavy in the air, a moment for you to take back your question if you wished to. There was no knowing where the conversation would devolve into or how you’d react, but you wanted some clarity before your therapy session the coming day. 

“Yeah I am.” 

He sat himself down as far as he could from you on the couch, watching you pull up some two player game and slide a controller across the coffee table to him. Neither of you jumped straight into questions, getting into the rhythm of the game before taking that step. The air around you felt heavy, thick enough to be cut through with a knife. 

“What did Seonghwa say about your condition?”

Wonwoo, thankfully, broke the silence first after that teamwork rhythm was in place, making you let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. 

“He said everything is healing alright but I need a stupid heart monitor until I see him next.” You hadn’t forgotten about the wires that rubbed uncomfortably on your skin, having to fight the urge to rip it off for hours at that point. 

“Everyone has been in a better mood since you came out of your room yesterday.” He chuckled through his nose. “I hope Jihoon’s ultimatum wasn’t too hard.” 

“Really it was the push I needed.” Truthfully you were grateful for the other man’s quick thinking, not…that you would tell him that yet. “I’m still a little iffy but everyone is being respectful which I appreciate.” 

A hum left him. “Do you know why you are feeling like that?” 

“Not exactly, there are some ideas in my head but…I’m planning to figure it out in the first therapy session tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him nod, keeping his focus on the game. 

“And I either need to borrow a computer or come down here for a webcam tomorrow afternoon.” 

“I can set it up down here. Probably more privacy than upstairs.” He winced when his character fell off the edge of the map. “I could lock everyone but you and me from Pandora.” 

“That would be mean, Wonu.” 

“But effective for maximum privacy.” 

“You just like being an introvert that lives in his man cave. If Cheol let you, this would be your room, hermit.” 

Wonwoo rumbled with laughter, letting a pleasant silence settle over the space now that the awkwardness was broken. The quiet clicks from the controllers were familiar, preparing you for the questions bubbling in both your and his minds. 

The silence stretched for nearly an hour before Wonwoo seemed to have enough, pausing the game and setting his controller down. He said nothing at first, only leaning forward to place his elbows on his thighs and face in his hands. He took in a slow deep breath, his leg starting to bounce restlessly. 

“Mouse,” His somber tone had the hair on the back of your neck standing on edge. “I need you to be honest with me and we never have to bring it up again.” 

Don’t- 

“Just shake or nod your head and I’ll understand.” Wonwoo lifted his eyes, adjusting his glasses. His eyebrows were furrowed together tightly, pain behind his eyes. “Did Monsta X do this to you?” 

Hearing the name out loud for the first time since waking up made every muscle in your body tense. You felt the weight of the world pressing down on your chest, pushing all the air out. 

The warmth that once came from the blanket wrapped around you had long gone frigid. You flinched at the sensation of ice cold water drenching every inch of your skin. You heard something – or someone – but the sound was far off in the distance and…muffled, underwater. Something was- There was this loud beeping. 

You couldn’t move. You were back in that horrid metal chair in that damp, moldy room with Kihyun’s sick, sadistic smirk staring back at you. You knew what was going to happen next, that was the part that scared you the most. The anticipation of what was to come was harrowing. You didn’t want to relive the pain. You didn’t want to relive your worst nightmare play by play, knowing how it is always going to end. And you couldn’t stop it .

There wasn’t any fight left, you couldn’t even attempt to fight in this…state, whenever you were. Had you just woken up and everything before waking up in the ATZ wasn’t real? Were you still their prisoner? Was your mind making up lies to help you cope? 

Dread…

Powerless…

Vulnerable…

Ashamed…  

Ashamed you let them get to you so easily. Ashamed you didn’t realize earlier that Monsta X was your stalkers. Ashamed you couldn’t even hear their group name without having a flashback. 

Ashamed. Period…

Something was touching you, something placed on your head. You weren’t able to move away from it, trying to wipe Nightmare’s and Joker’s faces from your vision. 

The piercing sound of piano keys met your ears. It was played loudly, louder than the scenes flashing through your mind. Your vision started to blur. The sound was soft, a slow rhythm that had your heart beating slower in time with the notes. The slow raise of a violin joined along the piano, calm and quaint, a breath of air rushing into your lungs. A low beat of intermittent percussion fading in wasn’t too bold to remind you of the banging on the metal box, reminding you that you had escaped. The vibration of the cymbal brought some feeling back into your arms, electrifying the reminder you were alive . 

The room slowly transitioned from where you were held captive to the low lit space of Pandora. 

Taking in a shaky gasp of air, your entire body shuddered as you came back to reality. 

You felt the pressure of headphones on your head, the song repeating from the beginning. Wonwoo knelt on the floor in front of you, concern gracing his features. You reached up to wipe your face, met only with tears streaming down your cheeks. Your hands shook with panicked energy, feeling your heart slow to a somewhat normal rate. The other said something but the music was too loud and you felt like a bobble head at how dizzy you were. 

It took you a moment to remove the headset, letting the ringing in your ears play out as you refocused on Wonwoo. 

An apology flimsily spilled from your lips and Wonwoo looked…annoyed, but you didn’t think it was at you. 

“Why are you apologizing?” It was a rhetorical question. “ I’m sorry , do you need anything?” 

“Ju-” Your voice broke and you groaned. “Juice sounds amazing-” 

He was gone before you even finished the request, leaving the door to the basement open in his wake. 

You took a moment to bundle yourself back up into the blanket, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Sniffling to calm your tears, you tried to make yourself small, curling up to seemingly protect yourself. 

“Here.” You didn’t hear him return, flinching some as he placed the small glass of juice down, happy to see the straw in it. “Anything else?” 

“I’m okay, thank you.” You shakily reached for the glass and took a long sip, shivering at how sweet it was. “Just give me a second.” 

Wonwoo sat on the floor in front of you, keeping a watchful eye on you for any issues. You were able to hear the song blasting through the headphone still, letting the ballad’s instrumental continue to ground you. 

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo repeated, fists balled in his lap. “I didn’t mean-”

“Please don’t tell them yet-” You cut him off, downing the rest of the juice and setting the cup aside. “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle hearing everyone talk about them …nor do I think I’m ready to say it or admit everything yet, I can’t even say it…” 

Wonwoo studied you, his gaze flicking around your person, making you huddle in on yourself more. You heard him sigh and he stood, ruffling his hair in frustration. 

“Fine- Fuck, okay…” He didn’t sound pleased, but he stared down at you. “You promise, when you are ready, you will tell them, right?” 

Nodding, you pulled the blanket up to your chin. “Yeah.”

“Can you…promise you won’t tell them I knew first?” 

If you weren’t so mentally exhausted, you would laugh. “Yeah, promise.” 

“I am, however, going to put some eyes on them if I can.” He held your gaze. “Just so we are clear. No moves, just watching them.” 

“I understand.” You and him stared silently for a beat, only for you to point weakly at the still on TV. “I’m not going to be able to sleep anytime soon…can we continue playing?” 

Disbelief crossed his face but Wonwoo sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, we can keep playing. I’ll need to sleep eventually though and set up the computer before that.” 

“Okay…I might just stay down here all night though.” You grabbed your controller, watching him take a seat. “Thank you, Wonwoo.” 

“Don’t thank me, I spiraled you into a PTSD episode-”

“No, you fucking idiot, not that. Thank you for getting me out of it, for one thing, and another for understanding.” 

“Oh…you’re welcome.” 

“Now help me kick this boss’s ass.”

Tag List is Open! Comment on the BSH Master List to get added!

Tag List:

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye @gaslysainz @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @vanteel @clownprincehoeshi @kpopandbookschild @honeybunchcrunch @black-swan-blog27 @peachie-wonu @kpopsimpsblog @choppedballoondetective @starstrawb @kaitieskidmore97

[kaiserouo]

Internationalisation is so crazy

You need to learn and talk in this specific language to be able to communicate with most people

Most people are so far from you you have to consider timezones and how many hours people are away from you

Sometimes it still feels weird to me and i suddenly cant take this for granted for some reason

[bluesey-182]

my husband falls asleep before i do so i usually go to the living room to read or watch tv but now im terrified to leave him alone in the room at night for any amount of time because he keeps waking up to something in the bed that looks like me and he thinks is me until he gets up for whatever reason and finds the real me in the other room and when he goes back to the bedroom the thing is gone. but last night the thing was talking to him and i asked him if it sounds like me and he said "it sounded a little different but i thought it was because you were tired". like what the FUCK is in my house. and how do I make it stop. also idk if this is worth noting but both times our dog was in the room with him and had no reaction

[icelogged]

hello one more bitch for the road 😔✌🏾terf is not a synonym for transphobe. terf is an acronym. tme trans people can be terfs. next scheduled bitchfest is between me our heavenly father amen or to annoy you specifically ❤️

[thethingything]

had to lay down. woke up at nearly 7am. got overwhelmed by our sleep schedule once again being fucked because yesterday we actually went to bed at roughly the right time and thought "oh this is great we've fixed it". decided that we're just gonna deal with it and it'll be fine. and then our brain decided that no actually we're gonna have a combination of emotions that's maybe gonna give me another breakdown if I can't figure out how to deal with them but I have no fucking clue what to do with them

[phagodyke]

istg one of these days.......

[gatorinator]

Can God translate me. Just for like 3-5 business days. I just need a little break—I’ll come back I promise.

[itsalwaysdark]

ome day i will be so normal

[lunar-fey]

so. the new adhd med now that i am on a normal starting dose and actually feeling it at all. it doesn't quite feel like i have adhd^2 like the other one did. like that one felt not dissimilar to a manic episode. was not great. THIS one though is like........i still feel like i have a lot of thoughts and a lot to say and gotta GO. but i also am finding it easier to stop or start or change directions. basically...........what if i was just a chatter the whole time but my brain was too fucked...............

[adrianastrix]

Just something I was thinking amidst all the reblogs, but I'm so grateful that not only I was raised in a spiritist household, but it was a household that didn't bother going to spiritist centres to have a more "traditional religion" experience. My parents took very seriously the "we don't need temples and rituals" part of the deal and let me learn about it through the original books (as hard as they should be to a child, but I was a particularly nerdy one who wasn't intimidated by big words).

Lots of the beliefs that kept my mind open to diversity and tolerance as I grew up and that allowed me to accept most unique things about myself came from those quiet afternoons reading about spirits, spiritual worlds, reincarnations and such.

"Spirits don't really have a biology, let alone a biological sex, and they reincarnate in any body, any country, any race, any social status, so you can learn as much as possible about being human." -> This central tennet of our version of reincarnation pretty much set me up to never feel that birth circumstances are anything to be proud or ashamed about, and I even predicted trans people existed before my country bumpkin butt actually heard about them in real life. After all, it's only normal that,after a few reincarnations in a kind of body, you will feel weird being in a different one.

In fact, child me was really at peace with the idea of being a man in past reincarnations and not really getting what being a woman is about, but being willing to explore and learn, as well as being in a process of not giving that much meaning to transient identities linked to a physical body, and it's still the best description of my gender identity (while the best shorthand might be the Twilightian identity of the galactic system - partial alignment to masc, fem and none).

Child me also never understood social hierarchies, and if you can reincarnate as pretty much anything, what's the point to be all high and mighty about someone that can be your boss in the next life? Better work on making friends and having more abilities, so you can relearn them faster in the next one, screw money, status or petty quibbles over what the other thinks about you or your tastes.

And this weird immortality by pieces, in which you die and have to learn to shed this fixed identity of your last life to be your whole immortal self, live a little like this, get the nead of being reborn for several reasons, and goes back to build a new self to learn new things and do new jobs made me patient with myself (there's always next one, no need to rush our present experiences), but also eager to get as much as I can from any particular life, because my whole being might be immortal, but this small part of myself is just that - a small part of myself. Once I die, this particular identity will slowly integrate with the sum of my experiences and I'll feel differently about a lot of things. Life is still a brief, beautiful moment and I should make the most of the experiences I have to build who I want to be and bring that back to the sources that next me will have to navigate this big mysterious cosmos.

The only thing that will remain will be the memories I forged and the connections I made with other living beings, so those things are more precious and worth cherishing than anything. It is simply not worth it to isolate yourself over money or social clout, since those things fade so quickly that you might lose them before you even die.

I know all that sound deep and wise and inspirational, but it was just what child me read in those 19th century books and took to heart as facts so simple and obvious that I never really felt the need to question them. To this day, my general stance on spiritism is that I believe it, but if it turns out to be no real, not only I'll be too dead and non-existent to care that it wasn't real, but I will have died with better mental health than I would have if I didn't believe in it, so it's worth it.

--

(Also, I'm grateful that reading about spirits from so early in my childhood made me so used to the idea of them being everywhere that I seriously don't get what's so scary about it. Why does everyone stop their horror stories at the point that they investigated a sound or a passing shadow and saw their grandma who died? Did you hate your grandma in life? Was she doing something bad or scary? Wouldn't you prefer it to be your grandma who you loved instead of a total stranger? Why haven't you talked with her, don't people always want to meet their loved ones who died again? Why squander the chance?? And if you saw a spirit crying, why didn't you offer it some comfort? I mean, what do you think a crying person who can't even touch you will do?? Just talk to them or ask your spirit buddies to do it, the poor thing might not even know they are dead already.

I absolutely love the fact that this my unfiltered thought process to any paranormal-related phenomenon, and it took me so long to understand that people were unironically afraid of sounds and shadows being caused by spirits and not, you know, thieves or something.)

[occasionalklance]

how fucked up would it be if i replaced the sofa and loveseat in my living room with two twin beds i have currently sitting around unused in my basement?

[stargirlrchive]

simon’s work wife

one — two — three — four

the transition in your relationship—if you could call it that—with simon was easier than you anticipated. he practically herded you into his apartment.

helping you pack, doing all the heavy lifting, and grunting softly when you’d ask if some of your decor would clash with his. “wh’tver you want in our house will go, doll.”

our house. our.

shivers ran down your spine when you’d hear him refer to your things as our. you didn’t mind it—albeit it did confuse you a bit because just two weeks ago you were single, and now you were living with your lieutenant, and sleeping in his bed, and he’d cook for you—even knew how you liked your coffee in the morning.

the only weird thing was that he didn’t touch you.

well he did, like placing a heavy hand on your lower back to guide you, or pressing up against you to grab a cup from the shelves because you couldn’t reach it, or letting his thumb trail down your throat as you spoke to him.

but he didn’t touch you.

that plagued your thoughts all day, even as you slipped into bed with him. letting out a small huff as he turned to face you in the dim light of the room.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing.”

you could tell his brows pinched together but you didn’t mention it. picking at your cuticles to stop yourself from looking at him.

you were still so confused; he clearly wanted you if his actions meant anything. and you couldn’t deny that anytime he’d refer to you as his ‘missus’ that warmth curled in your belly and left you a mess.

a needy, horny mess. it was his fault really.

he grunted, thick fingers wrapping around your soft thigh to pull you closer to him, “we ain’t supposed to go to sleep mad at each other.”

your nose scrunched up at him as you somehow found yourself under him, “and who sets these rules?”

he stared at you for a second before that same hand that was curled around your thigh now moved to curl around your throat gently, his eyes glued to your lips.

“me.”

you huff again, but make no move to move from under him—a move simon doesn’t miss. “what’s go ya’ so worked up, sweetheart?”

the gravel in his voice had your skin heating up, nipples pebbling as you met his gaze, “you.”

“me?”

“mhm.”

the amusement was clear in his eyes, staring down at you as he let his weight sink into you and you had to bite back the moan that threatened to leave your lips.

god, you felt pathetic. just the feeling of his cock on your belly, the scent of him, had you reeling.

“tell me what you need.”

one of his hands trailed lower, thumb barely ghosting over your nipple and a breathless whine left your mouth. “well—i-i need you to perform your duties-”

a rumbly laugh left his mouth as his nose dipped down to your throat, licking up your neck and nipping softly, “my duties?”

heat coiled in your belly, arousal pulling between your thighs as you tried to control your breathing. “and what duties have i been falling short on?”

your mind went hazy as he cupped your breast, lowering his hips to press his cock against your cunt, heavy and thick and just there. teasing you further by not moving.

“have i been neglecting my missus?”

that pulled a moan straight from your parted lips, hips bucking upwards to grind against his cock as he grunted lowly. “y-yes, been neglecting me.”

he nipped at your neck, thick fingers easily snapping away that lacy fabric that sat on your hips as he growled out softly, “m’sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you.”

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist