#they haze him into one of them and in some way it helps him cope. somewhat better with the abuse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seventhcallisto · 1 year ago

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Chapter IV — "mirrors."

Deep down.

Toc/cw; suggestive undertones, dialog, and themes. Pre-heat haze, san getting angry, ooc yunho and san. More world building, possessiveness. I'm bad with cw. COMMENTS PUSH MY MOTIVATIOOON Thank you♡

It's four days before your heat. Hongjoong, and you are trying your best not to be obvious about your affections, but it's getting harder the closer you get to your heat. Maybe it's the consistency of your schedule. Waking up at the earliest of dawn, writing down new lyrics as soon as you reach for your phone and then immediately getting up and beginning your day that had changed, which ended up with you feeling strange. However, today is not your typical schedule day.

You thought you'd have more time, really. Seriously. Now you're a heaving, writhing mess under your blankets. Not knowing what's going on because it's the first time you've felt this after your diagnosis. Too hot. Too cold. Never enough. Tossing and turning. Burning to be touched. It only lingers for an hour like a warning sign. The sense of being on the verge of heat. You don't know exactly what to do or what to say. Google is fairly helpful. You especially don't want to leave your room when all of your members are alphas. Even if they're taking scent suppressants, your smell is still extremely sensitive to them.

He hardly remembers you tucking him in a while ago now. Suddenly, your words echo.

"If you remember in the morning, then I give you full permission." To what? He doesn't know. All day- all week. As san gets ready, sits with wooyoung, does some more practicing, eats out with some friends. He still doesn't know what you meant, and he's grown frustrated about it. He's completely lost from the amount of drinking he did with wooyoung.

Maybe the over drinking thing is getting to san. Woo has got to stop daring him to drink more. He can't believe he still allows him to get away with it. As san arrives home around mid day from filming, he realizes it's time to settle in for the rest of the day.

Your scent lingers in the apartment, and it's a good thing that jongsik has told them to begin taking scent suppressants to prevent any of them from practically jumping you. It provides the self-control they need, but it doesn't prevent the thoughts that course through everyone's minds when they get the tiniest scent of you.

It may be thanks to the scent suppressants they have complete control over what they're feeling and doing currently. But it doesn't mean none of them want to knot you. Surely, san is speaking on behalf of his members that it would be heaven to do so. If they didn't have the scent suppressants.. well, san doesn't want to pop a boner thinking about it.

So, for now, they're just coping with your pre-heat scent all over the apartment. No one is allowed in other than the guys. Your pack. San definitely prefers it that way. He peels his jacket off when he steps through the threshold of the doorway, quickly closing it behind him to lock your scent inside.

Seonghwa prepares another meal for you, considering you're still cooped up in your room. And san wonders if hongjoong has been in and out of there, based purely on the smell of him lingering in the hallway. There's been talk about you and hongjoong. Gossip amongst the guys. The papers san found a while ago proves so.

He slaps the paper down in front of wooyoung. Taping his pointer finger against the signed line. "Look! She let him sign it!" san whines, grabbing at his hair. "This is driving me crazy," he huffs as he paces. On wooyoungs bed, yeosang and wooyoung scan the piece of paper. Jaws slack in shock.

There's no way they can dismiss this. Somehow, san got his sticky fingers on your heat paperwork. They don't say anything about that, but the signed line for your heat helpers is only signed by hongjoong. The pack alpha, yes they could ask him. But that would be extremely disrespectful, questioning the pack alpha.

Woo runs a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "Well, what if we ask- what if she gets uncomfortable? What if she doesn't want us to sign it and she feels pressured to say yes?"

Jongho enters their shared bedroom, questionable looks between his other members. The paper in question catches his eyes. "Why do you have that?" He asks, shutting the door behind him.

Does everyone know about the paper?

San struggles to come up with an explanation for the youngest member. "I- wo-" he looks to wooyoung, wooyoung lays the paper on the blanket, putting his hands up, he claims not to know anything about it. San has no other option except for explaining himself to jongho and what he's gathered the past few days.

Once san is finished explaining in the most rushed manner. Yeosang speaks up, looking to him. "I'm not asking her." Yeosang says, laying down his foot. "If she doesn't want us on it, it's not our place to ask her," yeosang looks back down to the paper in wooyoungs hand. "Put it back where you found it." jongho says, uncrossing his arms from his chest and leaving the room.

San looks back at the paper, propped up at the corner of the kitchen. It's not usual for paperwork to be left around here and there. But the fact you left it out in plain sight when San had to go and physically see it in your room to get it is very suspicious. He can even see the obvious bold letters spelling 'Heat Assessment'.

He not so subtly runs past seonghwa, slamming his keys down on the counter next to the paper. Seonghwa looks up from the dish he's preparing for you, looking at san, who hovers over the counter.

"Hey," seonghwa calls san. San shakes from his thoughts, turning toward the older member. Paper in hand. He reads seonghwas signature, cursive and strategically placed next to hongjoongs. "What are you doing with that?" Seonghwa doesn't flinch. he doesn't even ask about the content of the paper. Truly. Everyone knows, and now seonghwas signature is on it.

"How do you know what I have?" San asks, walking across the kitchen to seonghwa who spreads out some slices of apples on your plate. Seonghwa doesn't look up, "we all know what that is." It's a lie. Many of them dont know. San knows it, too. seonghwa pops a slice into his mouth, biting down on it. The souring scent of san fills the kitchen. "Why has -" he slams the hand holding the paper down next to the plate. Suddenly Agitated. "Why has no one asked about it?"

Seonghwa looks to san, finishing cutting the cheese with the knife in hand. "Asked? It's none of your business." Maybe seonghwa is a little harsh about it. He knows that, for fact. The door down the hallway pops open. San doesn't take a second to tell seonghwa off. Instead, he's marching down the hallway.

Hongjoong is just about to enter your room when he feels san pull him back by his arm. A deep set frown over his eyebrows. "Why didn't you tell us about this!?" He places the paper against hongjoongs chest. Hongjoong looks between the paper and san. Pulling it off.

San is picking for a fight. Seonghwa and hongjoong know. Whatever your scent has done has triggered san to be more possessive of you and more aggressive. Your heat is just around the corner, so the tension is rising in the apartment, and it's higher than ever. The boiling point has been reached since this morning.

"Why is your name on this!" San belts, looking between hongjoong and seonghwa.

Yunho steps out of his shared room with yeosang. The shorter peeps over his shoulder to look for where the yelling is coming from. The door creaks open across from them. Wooyoung and jongho peak out. Confusion written on their faces. Lastly. Mingi is the one to step out from the last bedroom on the left, right across from your room where they're currently at.

"San" hongjoong tenses, watching the way san challenges him. The sudden twisting smell of sans scent burning in his nose. "Tell me," san says through clenched teeth. Seonghwa tries to pull at his shoulder to lead him away from the leader but san shrugs his hand off roughly, cursing through his teeth. Sans tough hands shoot out, pushing hongjoong into mingi. The leader catches himself quickly with the help of mingi. Staring wide-eyed at san.

San, who just opened your door and went into your room. Locking the door behind him. He can hear the pounding on the other side. Drowning out his members, San steps forward into your dim bedroom. The only light comes from the window directly across from your door. It shines the dark room only slightly.

San calls you name and hears a shuffle of things in your closet. The walkover is draining. He can feel himself being pulled in by your sweet scent, invading his lungs. He knocks on it gently.

In the gap, your fingers slide the sliver of the door open. Eyes still blinking back sleepiness. San has to take a sharp breath at the invasion of his senses. You're curled up on the makeshift bed in your closet. A nest you made.

Plenty of clothes san has noticed were missing are strewn in a pile under you. Clad in hardly any clothing to combat the heat of your body. San bends down to your level. You still seem you. The smell isn't in full bloom. San can tell, somehow.

" 'Mega?" San calls to you ever so gently, watching you rub your eyes. "Sannie?" you respond, voice filled with recognition. The sound of your voice makes the tension in sans shoulders dissipate. You stumble up and out of the closet, anxiety begging to settle into your bones. He backs up to give you space. Did he even plan anything he was gonna say?

"What are you doing in my room?" You ask, rubbing your arm because of the cold breeze, and definitely not because you're nervous. "Doesn't my preheat scent affect you or whatever? It's not safe.." You mumble the last bit. San struggles to answer. "The scent suppressants.." he trails off. Watching you rub at the sweat on your forehead. He watches you twitch every so often. You don't meet his eyes. Grimacing slightly. "San.. what did you need?" You know he's not here to talk about something so simple. And the settling pain of your incoming heat is twisting your guts to make room for a big knot at the sudden interest of an alpha in your presence.

San sighs, all frustration draining from him in your presence. Wrapped around your smell. "The heat assessment paper." He says, you take a sharp breath. "What about it?" You turn to look away. San stands across from you.

"Do you really want me to sign it?" He asks in a single breath. You blink up at him, swaying in the cold room. "I said yes last night, did I not?" You huff.

You're kinda mean when you're in pre-heat. San thinks. He goes quiet. That's when you reach out, cupping his arm. Warm eyes meeting his in the dark. "San, I want all of you to sign it"

And you're being extremely bold. "All of us?" San mumbles out, shocked. It's not true, right? San, woo, and yeosang, can all be there for your heat? He won't have to feel terrible about signing it. His members (who are equally infatuated with you) can, too?

"You want all of us to sign it?" San phrases better, grabbing your palm in his, off his arm. "Yes, sign it," you sigh, growing impatient. This is why hongjoong and seonghwas name is on your paperwork.

San feels the hope bubble in his throat. Really, he can have it all. And especially when all he wants is to be with you at this moment. He doesn't care, you want him, and he wants you. Sans tough and somewhat calloused hands wrap around your jaw on each side, his fingers glancing over your primary scent gland, which makes you shudder into him. Your name falls off his lips as he searches yours. You can't help but stare at the lines in his perfectly round lips. As soon as his eyes fall over your own. He's pulling you into him.

You can feel the passion in sans touch, and you can feel the desperation of his kiss as it becomes more heavy. His left hand slipped down to your waist to pull you even closer. His fingertips teasing the hem of your shirt. Lips move in tandem, San wants to completely be overwhelmed by you, to be molded by your words and do whatever you want him to. And you want to completely drown into San.

Sans feet shift under him as you guide him, your hands slither into his hair. When you tug gently, san sighs into your mouth, never does he part. Nor does he want to. You know if you keep going, you'll succumb into the inner war of letting San have you here and now. San is oblivious to this. He's slowly letting himself slip into the other mindset he's pushed off for so long, the one where he gets to have you and take care of you like an alpha should.

You shake him out of it. Pushing his shoulder back against the door. You dislodged yourself from his lips. A soft tug, and you're gone from San. He lets out a strangled sound at the lack of your touch. You can't be entangled like this when you're so close to your heat. You can't let this get to you. Breathing each other in, you softly speak. "You have to go," you tell him. San can feel the door rattle against his back.

"As soon as you're done signing, it needs to be turned into the heat sanctuary I'm going to be at. If you don't, the signatures will mean nothing."

So that's why you've been cooped up in your room instead of going to your heat sanctuary. You've been waiting for them to sign it. As soon as san feels the door tug from his back, and you quickly shoving him out. Yunho is pulling the rest of him. Scowling. A screwdriver in hand as they tried to pry open your door. "Why did you do that! That was dangerous! For both of you!"

San heard and felt your words.

Everyone has been withholding their urges all week. Perhaps the scent suppressants are working compared to how your first heat hit. When they didn't know that scent you were producing and why suddenly they wanted to cover you in their own scents. It's a lot less easy knowing that you're only a room away in an apartment full of alphas who are willing to give you anything. But you don't know that. Hongjoong does. He takes a shuddered breath when he stands at your door ealy that morning. He can smell your preheat scent seeping out of the cracks.

Hongjoong knocks a few times. Listening for any movement on the other side. The door swings open. He's smacked with a wall of your smell. "Hongjoongie," you sigh happily. Pulling him in. "Hey pretty girl" he answers, pushing the hair behind your ears and out of your face when you don't stop to turn around and keep pulling him to your closet.

"Look," you slide the door open, dropping the edges of his shirt to crawl inside. "Come," you beckon him down towards the floor, pulling at his hand. He grins, crawling in. He's much too big for your tiny closet, but you fit in it perfectly. Hongjoong can see the amount of clothes on the floor, it's like a mountain, and in the center of it, it's big enough for you and someone else to sit in.

You're so very eager to get hongjoong in that circle, just to see if it's big enough. "Once I get to the heat place, I can make a bigger one for all of us." You push at hongjoongs shoulders, and his back hits the clothing softly. He doesn't know exactly what you're doing until you're sitting atop him, trying to nestle your face into his neck. He places two hands on your hips.

You're scenting him now, hongjoong knows this but decides to ask anyway. Shoving your face as close as you can get to him, your lips breeze passes his glands. Your forehead falls there instead, rubbing back and forth to transfer your scent. Encouraging a shuddered breath out of him. "What are you doing, huh?" He pulls your head out of his neck, his right hand holding your nape softly. You huff, hongjoong scans your features in the dark.

"You don't smell like me," you pout, hongjoong laughs lightly. Maybe in a teasing way but more so in a 'that was really cute' kind of way. The grin on his face tells you what exactly he's thinking. "Don't laugh at me" you pull away, sitting up on his chest. You drain the breath out of him in the best way.

Hongjoong slips to sit up, holding you close to him and not any lower. He only has so much control for now, and he doesn't want to risk giving a certain area the stimulus. "I'm not," he bites his grin. "You are," you mumble, shaking your head from the fog. You plop it on his shoulder, holding him against you.

"I'm not even in my heat yet, and I'm exhausted," you say into his shoulder. Hongjoong sighs for you. "I know, I'm working on it," he kisses your head. "I'll get you a knot as soon as possible, okay?" The sentence sounds so innocent when it really isn't. His finger rubs the side of your neck, where your scent glands are.

The thought of seeing hongjoong above you, giving you his knot, being in you for the first time, flashes through your mind. Your voice gets stuck in your throat. You stop the pulse between your thighs the best you can. "You can't say that." You whimper, pulling off of him. It takes everything in you to do so. The omega in you cries to be closer. Hongjoong pats your hip as you land softly on the clothes next to him. This plan is driving you mad, and yet you still have a week of a long heat ahead of you. "Has san said anything yet?" You look to hongjoong.

Hongjoong shakes his head, watching you lean your head on his knee. Prettily poking your lips at him in the most frustrating of pouts. "What if he didn't hear me?.. What if he doesn't like me like that?" You mumble, closing your eyes and squishing your legs into your chest.

"He heard you. He does." hongjoong sighs, rubbing your cheek softly. You don't know if he's saying it to reassure you. But you really hope san did hear you. And you hope you're not getting your hopes up.

Hongjoong tells seonghwa first. He trusts seonghwa a lot. You trust seonghwa just as much. The idea of going to him first was completely a mutual idea.

Later in the morning, Hongjoong knocks on his door, the one he shares with mingi and san. Sans out today. Wherever he is, he decides not to learn the details. Lately, san has been giving him the cold shoulder. And hongjoong has some idea why.

On the other hand, joong isn't ready to tell mingi about you wanting them. Hongjoong knows that as soon as he tells mingi, mingi will lose himself and steal you away for the week. You might end up inducing Mingis rut in the process. It's just not a great idea to tell mingi before everyone else, no matter if he gets upset about knowing later.

So with that, as soon as hongjoong learned seonghwa was alone in his bedroom, hongjoong took the opportunity. Three knocks, and he's entering. Seonghwa rests on his bed, looking at his phone. Hongjoong takes the bed across from him. Seonghwa knows whatever conversation they're about to have. It's gonna be serious. He sits up, taking whatever hongjoong has got to say heads on.

Seriously, if hongjoong says that you two are dating exclusively, seonghwas heart might actually explode into tiny shards.

It begins the same as a nightmare seonghwa has been having for a couple of days. "You know she and i are together," hongjoong starts off with, not knowing how else to phrase it. Seonghwas mouth falls open. "I.. what?"

Hongjoong really doesn't know how to say this. But for your sake, he's trying. "We're dating. I think we are - anyway. I was the first one who asked her, " hongjoong kinda bluffs, he didn't ask. It was kinda set in stone as soon as your lips touched his. Seonghwa wants to urgently shake hongjoong to spill everything. "She wants us to be a more intimate pack if you get what I'm saying, more than what the media suggests." Seonghwa sucks a harsh breath in, eyebrows furrowed.

"She feels most comfortable with us, not only that but.." hongjoong tries to gather his words. "She likes all of us, more than friends, more than members. She wants us on her heat assessment." Hongjoong explains, he can't exactly tell seonghwa you like-love him, it's not his place too. If seonghwa wanted an answer, he could ask you himself.

"She wants all of us?" Seonghwa can't believe it, to be with you and not make it awkward amongst them, is this true? Seonghwa can share. He can play nice. He might even enjoy the idea of sharing with the entirety of the pack. It's something he doesn't really understand, but he's completely fine with anyway.

Hongjoong nods, signifying that seonghwa is correct. Seonghwa let's out a breath.

"I'll sign it." He let's his words freely flow.

And when seonghwa brings your breakfast for the day, you're surprised to see him. And he's very surprised to see you making a nest in your closet instead of relaxing in your bed. "Hwa?" You question, taking the plate gently, your round eyes look up to him, assessing his presence. It reminds him of that moment in the kitchen, and seonghwa grips his fingers into the clothes under him to prevent the blood flowing somewhere else. "Hi," he greets back with a hum. You place the plate down next to the closet door.

"Hungry?" He asks, watching your behavior. You shake your head. "Not really... My heat last time took a lot, and I still tried to eat as much as i could," you sigh. Seonghwa knows a heat will take everything out of you, and you still won't be hungry until after. Too driven by the urge to.. well, breed, really. He hums as he listens to you talk.

You look like the most beautiful person in his eyes. Even when seonghwa met you for the first time. Even before debut, when you were just a tiny beta that begged to be picked on just to bite back. Even during every bad hair day you claimed. He reaches out to smooth his hand over your hair. Your roots are beginning to show. As soon as your heat is over, you'll be long overdue for a touch-up. And seonghwa feels like tagging along for it. Just to watch your pretty face in the mirrors.

You lean into seonghwas hand as it trails down your face. Sighing softly into his palm. "I signed the papers." He gulps, pulling his hand back. You miss his warmth. Even if you are burning up. Your eyes fall.

"I don't want you to be there for my heat -" you sigh out. Seonghwas heart leaps into his throat. "I want you to take care of me, and I want you to be there after," You try to find the right words. Confessions are hard. "I like you, more than my member, more than friends," you mumble.

"You know how long I have waited to hear that?" Seonghwa laughs into his words. You blink once, twice. He pulls you into his chest. Hugging you tightly. His head falls over yours. Seonghwa isn't the most muscular member, but he still has arms to prove how he can hold you comfortably in his arms and steal you away at any moment.

"I like you too, so much." he mumbles into your hair. You pull back and look up at him, begging for a kiss with your smile. If you did, you'd both end up getting lost in each other. You cut the silence. "Could you bring me some dirty laundry?" You laugh, embarrassed. He snickers. "Sure" he knows exactly why.

Sharing a room with yeosang isn't the best, yunhos member doesn't say much about this odd situation. Lying face down on his blankets, yeosangs phone is propped up by his hand. Yunho, on the other hand, is watching a show on his laptop, propped up on his chest.

It started off with yeosang tossing and turning all night, ultimately it woke yunho up. And before yunho could get a clue of what's going on, yeosangs breathy sighs and whimpers had him shooting right up and out of bed. No way was he gonna stick around to listen to yeo have a wet dream.

The early morning dew completely encased the windows after a heavy night of rain. The flashing clock on the microwave told him it was around 2 am. He took his spot on the couch and watched a movie in silence. When from the corner of his eyes, wooyoung tiredly stepped out of the hallway.

Wooyoung stood rubbing his hand over his eye. There's no obvious sign to yunho that he knew what was going on with yeosang, but he had his suspicion. He doesn't greet woo when he lands softly on the other side of the couch. Both watching the movie in silence.

Yunho can't take silence much longer. Wooyoung obviously can't, either. "Have you seen the heat assessment paper?" He uses this conversation for topic? When obviously, yunho knows about it. "Yea, why?" He asks, turning his chin towards the dark-haired guy.

Wooyoung shakes his head like he's swaying his thoughts away. "Did hongjoong tell you his name was on it?" That gets yunho. No. Hongjoong did not tell him. Because yunho didn't know the leaders name was on the paper.

Besides the feeling of longing building in his stomach, yunho wanted to know what wooyoung getting at. "No, he didn't.. why are you asking?" It's a short answer but an even quicker question. Wooyoung doesn't dare spare a glance at yunho. Opting to just stay quiet. It's completely unlike him.

"Whatever reason she has him on the paper, it isn't our business -" yunhos words stop when wooyoung shoots up frustrated, whisper yelling towards yunho. "Yes! I know it shouldn't be any of my business it's hers- but- dammit! She's one of my best friends! I have a right to know!" Wooyoung seems to be drowned in his own outburst for yunho to get a word in.

Pieces fall and collide in yunhos mind. Watching his other member pace back and forth. "There's more to this, isn't there?" Yunhos words stop wooyoung in his track. The dark-haired guy turns to look at his taller friend. hum.

Yunho knows that look, the all familiar sign of hopelessness when you love someone so deeply, and yet you don't know what to do. He's had the same look consistently when you would split from their group to take photos with other idols. Other idols who yunho knows want you. Everyone wants you. The all familiar ace of K-pop.

When he'd sit back as you did video challenges, dancing and laughing with someone else whilst he watched in silence. He wished everyone knew you were his when, in reality, you didn't even know how he felt. Yunho knows that sinking feeling of possibly breaking something that can't be unbroken. Yunho knows these moments of laughter and bickering, but he wishes he could have those moments with you in a different way. A way that you both understand. Mated as a pair. Together in a more intimate way.

Wooyoung is as still as a mouse, caught in the cookie jar, smacking his lips. His eyes squint down, his hand coming up to the bridge of his nose. Wooyoung is estranged. He is tired of lying to himself.

"We all love her, don't we?" He says into his palm, the world doesn't seem to crash like he thinks it does. Yunho stands up, taking wooyoungs hand away from his face. Wooyoung sighs, facing yunhos eyes with diminishing confidence.

"It's her choice.." wooyoung says just as yunhos mouth falls open to speak. Pulling his wrist from the taller members grasp.

It truly is your choice to call on them if you want to. And when wooyoung turns away, he doesn't see the way yunho loses all confidence. Compared to his members, yunho has a lot to beat. If he had to fight for you, could he?

The hallway flur pass yunho. In an instance, he's pulling san out of your doorway, fuming. San has your scent all over him. Yunho does not ignore the pink tinting in his members' cheek or the way his lips are red. His lips pull back into a snarl as he barks at san about what he did wrong. What could have happened.

Sans lovesick eyes and dazed expression only pisses yunho off more. Even when he lets go, he's still towering over the dark-haired guy. A sudden urge of violence panging in his fists. Yunho isn't violent, no. He doesn't know what happened, but the way san reeks of you is making him feel as if he could commit a felony then and there really digs deep.

His members attempting to calm the situation only make things drown him. He's got to step back. He's got to get out of this cramped apartment where you linger around every corner. He turns on his heels, wanting to make a beeline for the door.

"She wants us to sign her heat assessment."

Sans voice speaks up, and yunho knows exactly who it's directed at. He can feel the stinging of sans dark eyes against his back. Still, as wooyoung looks to his friend, he can tell he got more info than he leads on. But the main shocker is what he said.

"What?" Wooyoung asks for confirmation. Heart leaping into his throat. It's got to be a hoax. Seonghwa and hongjoong linger in the back, silently observing. Mingi is the second to step forward, bending his neck to ask what he means. Jongho definitely gets onto what he's saying immediately. But he's almost tempted to barge into your room and ask you himself.

"All-" jongho gets cut off. "All of us." Sans smile is bitten back. He looks to wooyoung, then to yeosang, shock etched into their faces.

"That's what she said?" Yeosang gulps. San has never lied about anything you've said. No matter what. San respects you too much and this situation is too serious for lying. Yet, yeosang looks to the leader and eldest member to know anyways. Their names are on the paper, something you allowed.

Hongjoongs eyes hold curiosity as he watches all his members, he was right. He's smug that he was right. You are so consuming, it wouldn't be anything other than a surprise for any one of them to not be madly in love with you. You are the prettiest shining pearl in the sea that is the world. Hongjoong shakes out of his thoughts. Seeking out the begging and hopeful eyes of his members. Even yunho, who is a few feet away. Turned to listen in on the conversation.

"It's true." hongjoong says.

Seonghwa took the honor of putting his name on your heat contact. So, in case of anything. Seonghwa will get that call. And he'll assess the situation when you can't. Regarding who goes in and out of your heat space, any official business regarding idol work, etcetera. Seonghwa took it on cause if hongjoong had- the eldest knew that the captain would be overwhelmed with all of it.

Seonghwa is your primary caretaker for the entire heat cycle whilst you're out. To confirm, they had all sat around your door whilst you were on the other side. Just a door away. You used your phone to call them so they could hear you clearly.

You are still coherent despite what san did earlier. The door is the closest way you can feel close to them. Joong had slipped a piece of paper under your door along with a pen.

'Rules' it reads. Rules for the guys. Anything you don't want them to do, they'll be coherent, partly, while you're in your omega mindset. They can't do anything you dont want, especially if you're allowing them to be heat helpers, which is why you need rules.

You quickly write down the list whilst they talk. Discussing what they need to do beforehand quietly on the other side.

You write down a list of things you're not okay with and precautions. Birth control for men is the most important thing on the list. You know omega-you will not take them, begging not too actually, and knowing your boys, they might actually give in or get distracted. So they'll have to do the protection protocol.

And that's all you had. You are fairly comfortable with everything else. You're sure your omega mind will enjoy it as well.

There's this obvious what-will-happen lingering in your mind. Will this make or break your group? You know this is only a temporary solution. You know they think you're only doing this because you trust them to take care of you. You can't tell exactly why they're agreeing. Do they possibly feel the same? You know hongjoong and seonghwa do- and even san.

What about the rest of them?

Later in the midst of the night, as you're curled up in your closet. Your phone vibrates, awakening you from a sticky and hot sleep, one where you hardly actually sleep a wink, and you're completely uncomfortable the entire time. The bright light shines and blinds you temporarily. It's 2 am.

At some point after dinner, you must have fallen asleep. The ache in between your legs spikes up your hips, causing you to curl into yourself more. Whining quietly into the blanket yeosang had gifted you for your birthday. A pale yellow.

Your fingers reach for anything. Your phone ends up in your tight embrace. A contact on display, how'd that get there? The all familiar picture of you and the tallest of your friends posing in front of a snowman, his bright smile and bowlcut styled hair. Yunho.

"Hello?" Yunhos happy deep voice rings from the other side of the screen. You shudder at the familiarity. Was his voice always this deep? Your thighs clench. "Hello..?" He repeats. Music can be heard, some type of indie song, you recognize a few of his friends talking. Laughing whilst he takes a call.

You can hear the shuffle of yunho on the other side. A door shuts behind him, silencing the music. He calls your name softly. You're still so quiet. You haven't said anything. He must have checked the caller ID. "Yunho," your small voice speaks up, and you bite your lip. Curling into your side. You continue on with a whimper, "Where are you?"

Yunho takes a sharp breath. "I'm out, getting food with some friends, you okay?" he tells you honestly, his feet pacing in the bathroom echos. Your head begins to fog worse than it has in the entirety of the week. "Yun" you whine his name into the air. "How far away?" You fall into a whisper.

"Not far, I'm leaving now." The fact yunho is willing to ditch his group of friends and come home just because you called has you leaking. You bite on the arm holding your phone up to stop a needy gasp.

"Talk to me omega, tell me what's going on." The shuffle of yunho pulling his jacket on distracts you. His friends call his name as he walks, and the doorbell jingles behind him. You can't take the ache anymore. The fog behind your thoughts is consuming. You feel yourself losing control.

"I need you, please. Yunho, Please." You whine, dropping the phone next to you. Yunhos' words fall short. You can hear the door to his car open and slam shut.

"I'll take care of you, omega, okay? Just keep talking to me, I'm almost there"

A/n; I'm terrible. Ik. leaving it off on another cliffhanger bc I didn't know how to finish this chapterrrrr iM SORRY. THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!! it's gonna start getting really spicy here on-

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1

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within-your-eyes-if · 1 year ago

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The warden sneaks away to gods knows where but finally they find him in some hole in the wall pub drowning their sorrow and drunk. How would everyone drag them back home?

Admos: It's a sad sight seeing someone they've come to care about sit in a dingy tavern, alone, even though the place is bustling. He offers you one his finest wines, on the condition you return with him and let him keep you company.

Ly: They're not sure what to do as they see the warden wallowing in self pity. A state they themselves were in not long ago. Everyone copes differently, something the draconian respects. But the least they can do is sit with them. There were many times they wished for company at their lowest. With their usual air of flippancy, they approach the warden, "Ah look, I've found you! It seems I won our little game of hide-and-seek. But I do not wish to play again, so I'll just wait here with you."

The night continues on in casual conversation, or maybe silence, the draconian conforming to whatever you prefer while fending off any unwanted drunkards looking to join.

Gabriel: They don't say much other than announce their presence with a friendly tone before pulling you up and walking you out. They walk with you around the bustling night life of Narrau, offering food and non-alcoholic drinks to sober you up, to cheer you up. They stay by your side, letting the earlier loneliness fall away.

Lee: They don't want to overstep. But they don't want you to fall into the pit of despair you're desperately searching for in those mugs. They sit beside you, not letting the barmaid refill your drinks with glares unknown to you. When you're ready to leave, they still stay beside you.

Hestia: There are a few ways she plans to help you get through the hangover you're sure to have tomorrow. Right now, however, you need a better ailment than alcohol. The witch drags you away with the promise of something better and taking you to a quiet place she discovered within the palace walls. Soft hums soothe you, and through the waves of drunkenness, you forget the loneliness that's plagued you.

Xiao: They don't say much beyond announcing their presence as they sit beside you. It's hard for them sit in such a place, finding the atmosphere unpleasant. They ask you to leave with them. They don't promise anything better nor an exciting adventure, only to simply wander the streets and let the night play out however it does. At least you won't be alone.

???: They want to say you're pathetic. But your sorry sight is enough to make even their heart squeeze with pity. They drag you out without a word. Maybe you fight against them or go without thought, but even through the drunken haze you notice how gentle the hold and the soft whispers they think you don't hear or won't remember.

#within your eyes if #wye scenarios #wye romance information

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batwritings · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 25 - Exhibitionism

More Spider hottie hours. >:3 Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re not entirely certain how you found yourself in this situation. It wasn’t that you were complaining, oh no. Aside from the location, the fact that you were bouncing on Miguel’s thick erection to clear your body of leftover adrenaline, you were happy as a clam.

“Oh mi amor,” Miguel growls, his claws digging into your thighs. It was a welcome pain that blended so beautifully with the pleasure. You feel his sharp canines nip at your collar bone, dragging you impossibly closer.

You were lost in this blissful haze for…well, you’d long lost track of time. Your spider suit was torn to shreds, but you couldn’t even be mad. That last mission had been a near disaster and this was the perfect way to get that leftover adrenaline out of your system.

All was going so well and you were inching closer to your end when your spider sense began to tingle dully in your head. “Fuck…n-not now…” you whined, leaning into every single touch the Latino man laid on you. You did so well at ignoring it all up until you heard the door to Miguel’s office slide open. “Heads up lovebirds, you’ve got company,” you could hear Lyla advise. As if having the slightly-obnoxious AI present during this all wasn’t enough.

Your lover pulls you down all the way onto his cock, forcing you to effectively straddle him in his lap. He used that absurd super-human strength to hold you in place, not letting you continue to ride him. You tried to whine, but bright red webbing wound it’s way around your throat. It didn’t stop you from breathing, but certainly cut off your whine.

“Hey hey Miguel!” Oh fuck it was Peter B. Parker, of fucking course. “Don’t worry, I promise I didn’t bring my little bundle of joy with me. But I do have some new pictures I just have to–”

“What do you want?” Miguel’s tone was cold as always, as if he didn’t have your sloppy walls gripping his member like a vice. “I’m in the middle of something here, so whatever it is make it quick.”

“In the middle of what? Brooding?” Peter laughs. Many members of the Spider Society gave your lover a hard time for how hard he was constantly working. None of them blamed him of course, and it was perhaps their own way to try to help him cope with his past.

You could hear the tell tale signs of the society’s local dad release some web. Next was the sensation of his feet touching down onto the pedestal where their leader loved to sit. You looked to Miguel with panic in your eyes, knowing damn well you two were about to get caught. He shot you one back, one you knew all too well.

“C’mon you gotta see–” Peter’s words dropped from his mouth when he saw the situation the both of you were in. Your arms were wrapped around Miguel’s neck, his claws digging into your hips as if to claim you as his. You were seated firmly on his cock, and you couldn’t help but laugh internally at the blush Peter was now sporting.

Without a word, Miguel leaned forward and bit into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The pain and pleasure blending with each other had you gasping, a long moan falling from your lips. The Latino man lets you go, licking his lips while making direct eye contact with Peter.

“I’m in the middle of something,” he says again, eyes never leaving your interloper. “Can. It. Wait?” Each word gets more and more forced. You can practically hear Peter nodding, a series of “yeah” “sure” and of “of course” leaving him as he makes a quick escape.

Once the door is shut, your lover sighs in annoyance. You feel your body involuntarily clench around the hot, thick cock inside you and piercing ruby eyes look to you. “What? Did you like being watched?” Miguel purrs, giving you a devious smile.

You feel your cheeks heat up, any thoughts getting cut off as you’re lifted up so your boyfriend’s member can slam back into you. “Answer me cariño,” he commands, setting a brutal pace of fucking you again. You’re barely able to think, but by some miracle, your answer falls out.

“Y-yes!” You moan, gripping onto Miguel’s forearms like a lifeline. “L-loved being watched. W-ant you to cl-laim me in fron-nt of them…! Mmh! Mi-guel…!” You can hear the Latino man groan against your skin as you are all but pushed over the edge.

Your skin buzzes with pleasure as you milk his cock for all it’s worth. Your sex leaks against the remains of your spider suit and a bit onto his, but you can’t bring yourself to give a damn. Miguel is not far behind you, his hot cum painting your insides.

The grip on your hips doesn’t lessen at all by the time you are both finished. You’re held close as you feel Miguel inhale your scent. You press a kiss to the top of his head to assure him that you were still here, still solid. A soft chuckle that reverberates against your collar bone catches your attention.

“So mi corazón likes to be watched huh? Maybe we’ll make him stay next time.”

#bat writes #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader

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claudethecrabdemoness · 9 months ago

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Ok so I think I found a way to fix Vox LOLLOLOL.

And by fix him, I mean make him much, much worse.

🔌 📺😝🎩⚡️

So I was drabbling in my head w Claude and Vox and they got to deep talking about their previous lives and regrets and all sorts of existential meanderings, when Vox surprised me by saying “I was a Christian, ya know. A good one. Never even missed a Sunday- come late night or hangover or hellwater. *chuckle* Fat lot of good it did me, right?”

And then I was like oh. OHHHH.

He should’ve been a televangelist.

So now this is canon as far as I’m concerned, and can even make perfect use of the little priest getup from his song number. After all, that is essentially what he’s doing with the V’s: amassing a hell-wide cult through the power of his broadcast monopoly. And explains why Claude had never heard of him before- he’s not your average kind of celebrity.

I picture he got his start on local access TV, in the early 40s, just right after Al would’ve had his heyday with radio. He was an East Coast boy, no doubt, and mastered the quick-talking pander of the telecasters at the time. He often ran small broadcasts for local churches- fundraisers, telethons, what have you- and the Christian community ate up his All-American boyish charm. Especially the ladies. He married one who went to his church and really believed his words had the power to change lives, urged him to start his own televised worship, and boy did he thrive. They quickly became a household name, and he basically kick-started the whole televangelist movement into high gear. Like the bastard he is. Soon he gained a country-wide following and had money pouring in from the faithful by the buckets, and of course it all went straight to his head. Hence why it’s a TV now as punishment. That’s when he began exploiting his pulpit, believing himself a prophet, staying with his wife only to maintain their image, buying houses and toys and cars all with parishioner’s money, staying awake for days on cocaine and coming back down with barbiturates, the whole nine yards.

It eventually caught up to him when his followers tried to commit a mass murder/suicide in his name, and a lengthy court appeal didn’t really smooth over their new reputation as a dangerous cult. Which is so unfair. It wasn’t like he told them to go all Old Testament, buuut… it’s not like his message was that far off from it either. Idiots. From then on, he started overworking, overthinking, and overdoing the whole thing right into the ground. His wife left him, he lost a ton of money in legal fees, and he had to hire protection now to keep up with the death threats from angry loved ones of his devotees. All the stress and resentment drove him into religious fanaticism, and his sermons just got more and more ego-driven and manic, asking for larger tithes and claiming it would be help him work the Lord’s magic even faster. He eventually was killed by a hit put out on him by an up and coming newer cult- ironically a spinoff of his original one- proving that he was very much mortal, but his faithful followers still believed he was a messiah of some kind.

And that’s because- in his haze of drugs and self-destruction- he believed he was one too. He was sure that what he was doing was for all the Right Reasons, even if the methods were unorthodox. But hey- even Jesus flipped tables and rebelled against the Romans, so who’s to say his path is any less holy? He was SURE that he’d still be getting a ticket to Heaven, despite some minor setbacks…

So you can imagine his rage when he very much woke up in Hell.

All his hard work, all his devotion, all his MONEY- for what?? Damned to live with a TV instead of his beautiful face and nothing to show for his decades of faith??

What the fUCK??

It was then that he realized God was the biggest scam of all and immediately renounced his faith, spending the first few years of demonhood sinning and drinking as much as possible. He had no idea how to cope with it all, and saw no point to trying, really. What good is having a TV head when you can barely stand the thought of using it- just a constant reminder of the empire you left crumbing behind you.

And that’s when he met Alastor.

Now here was someone else cursed by his favorite medium and a deer form that boasted anything but the predator he saw himself as- only this man was anything but deterred by it. The Radio Demon’s broadcasts may have terrorized everyone else in Hell, but they invigorated something deep inside Vox. Something he hasn’t felt since his first televised sermon… something like worship.

He had to seek him out.

This then ties in perfectly with his one-sided crush/obsession with Al, their doomed stint at friendship, and the impending rejection he receives at the end. AGAIN. First God, now Alastor…? You’d think that second blow would reduce him into an even greater depression than before, but instead, it flips a switch inside him. That’s when Vox decides ENOUGH. He’s done pandering, he’s done negotiating, he’s done elevating anyone else above himself. And why should he?? If anything HE should be the one on that pedestal, HE should be the only one to get credit for all HIS deeds…

HE should be God.

And dammit, if he can’t join the original up in Heaven, why not try to become one down in Hell?

The rest is canon as we know it, but I just really realllllly love the idea of ex-Christian Vox, and all the disillusionment religious trauma can bring. He went straight from communion to capitalism, and I like that in my hell-bound guys. I will def be using this as his canon backstory for my AU with Claude, bc I needed to bring even more conflicted suffering and RSD to this character before I can truly ship them together hahaa.

And…. despite what his real backstory actually is…. this is the only one I subscribe to now. 😈

ALSO:

TELL ME THIS ISN’T HIM!!??!??? HELP. CREEPY HANDSOME IS THE ONLY WAY TO GO FOR THIS CURSED TV MAN I HAVE DECLARED IT SO PLS ADJUST YOUR FANART ACCORDINGLY.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED talk I’m going to go rot in my hole now thinking of more hcs for this akskshagaga-

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7ban-sama · 11 months ago

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Man 2023 was such a crazy year for AmaTsuka... I'm going to make a vague attempt at tabbing through Cataclysmic events in chronological order

February really kicked off the beginning of the year. First ominously seeing this header Tsukasa and feeling like, no... no... What's this? [brain shriveling up] call girl... phone sex... [REACQUIRES LIQUID] wait, Eros and Anteros?? [camera lens focusing] heart... necklace?

Matching? heart? necklace? hearts weighed on a scale? [crying]

[the event itself starts happening] [we see Amane's design in full and have to process he's some sort of corseted whore] Excuse me-!! Excuse me, sensei-!!!!! What does it mean! Help me!!

We get further information about how these demon brothers are extracting love from people and turning it into jewelry. (Ominously we receive no explanation on what their particular pieces of heart jewelry mean... LIKELY different in nature from the other hearts around them, but in what way? Not like we'll ever find out I guess.)

Like some sick doujin set-up, they're doing a competition where the loser must do what the other says at the end of this.

Deplorable... Reprehensible images. The vibes of this game they are playing with one another... The voting feels rigged anyways, because Amane's more capable of presenting himself appealingly, working everyone over.

This sucks I don't want to see what happens next I want to go home. [it persists.] I'm watching Nene-chan be TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF, WHY IS THAT HAPPENING. [it persists] fgwait why is Tsukasa eating chocolates where did he get those. [it persists] FEEEEEEED ? CHOCOLATE? OMINOUS ALLUDING TO WHAT WILL HAPPEN LATER? WHY!!!! but why am I in some sort of doujin. It's happening that way and I can't stop it...

As always, the twins get along better than you could ever predict. "For now" feed him chocolates. Ok

⬆ while trying to learn to cope from this, we are randomly blasted with this ⬇

End of February, this is revealed to us to be the inner sleeve of V19... DEVASTATION REIGNS, THIS IS THE SCARIEST IMAGE EVER... A Hanako with severe cock presence. Tsukasa's fair maiden quality ever emphasized by being surrounded by luxurious sakura petals, a special variety even... Fancy and cultivated. Tsukasa-chan...

Of course this is really stimulating when thinking about canon, this is our biggest look into the atmosphere of the deepest sanctum of Hanako's boundary. Perhaps Tsukasa was here suspended, sleeping beauty style... [horny]

Early March, getting this shikishi. It's more of a personal journey here, but getting an AU where the twins are simply... normal boys, alive, together, visibly, is a lot. Bandage boy Amane even...? Aesthetically, that one-?? Uough... Such a radiant Nene-chan here too... Thank you sensei. I'm grateful this time, not mad at you.

Advertising for V19, naturally we get to see scenes within it. I appreciate getting to see scenes again in color, at different angles etc. This image amuses me, it's like there are pheromones in the air. hot haze of red and purple... paralytic agents. Amane is dissociating and half-hard, as we like him to be.

Extra shikishi because of a G-Fantasy anniversary!

Of all AUs to return, never would've guessed this particular one would, from a set of icons/headers from 2022... That idol Tsukasa was already intriguing, but it's cool to see him in full. There's, a mysterious quality to his outfit, seeing it all, it's almost like the 'hakama' part is connected to his top, so. Are you just in a dress, Tsukasa..? I can't help but think you are...

This Amane meanwhile makes me laugh, WOOO he's here to stan, adorning purple in honor of Tsukasa's color. Tsukasa here has the big mic, he's our main singer. It's like a world where the twins figured out a hobby to pursue together, they can be obsessed with each other in this way, and blow off steam dancing whoreishly. Well congrats. Also I loev you yashiro. you look like. a cake topper. come to our dressing room after the show ok.

it's whimsical for asecond. but then sensei is out for blood. because

this happens. like dropping a big anvil on hundreds of mice. (the innocent fujoshi.)

this image convinces me sensei is evil and wants to hurt the girlies reading this manga. they're not holding back. i saw a deluge of tweets saying things like, Why does this look like a BL / the main characters? these are the main characters? / I can't read the chapter, the illustration won't let me / Why is it AmaTsuka

Everyone felt like they had a group hallucination. Why is it AmaTsuka... (It's always been AmaTsuka) (but still) Why is it this degree of it. Don't understand the deflowering vibes from this. Princess and knight. the torn butterfly wings and the flowers. the like evocative feminine orchids and the obscene wet feeling fruits. Tsukasa's sleeves being flower petals as well, he is the delicate feminine flower here. Hands pulling you close. "Searching for a reason to stand by your side." Why did you say that? Why did you do that? I feel like crying as I type this.

This is basically the most devastating event for the entire year and it happened so early, we spend the rest of the year still looking back and feeling faint. It's hard to be this valid, you all really cannot fathom, what it really means to be 'canon'... It's a pain I carry. Searching for a reasonnnnnnnnnn.....

Late March / beginning of April, and we are about to embark on our 6-month kitty cat crucible. AmaTsuka is going to become a genuine INTERSPECIES narrative, something I would've guessed blasphemous actually. But I suppose not... in this world, Tsukasa can be a child laborer/animal handler at a circus, and Amane can be his precious black kitten. With a little bell.

Amane runs off with Tsukasa, saving his life... They escape together, and are together still, 50 years later. How romantic. We're at the start, and it's already painful and glorious. Senseiiii!!

You know who is holding that cat tail. We have fun here, we take turns being the kitty. Tsukasa has a matching collar now, after all. :3

INTERLUDE for the April update, where we get Ch 101. ALIVE BOYS. CLOCK BOYS!! FIRST YEAR MIDDLE SCHOOL BOYS. OMEN!!!!!!

Serenading, beautiful Tsukasa... singing Over the Rainbow... This loving glance.

It's amazing to get a glimpse into their past, before the rope-burn and injury times. The prelude... Set in such a grim space as this area accessing the clock's inner workings. Captivatingly isolated, enclosed, kinda scary and dank... And we're brushing up against Amane's problem, how he won't say what he wants, won't make a decision. You need to make a decision, Amane...

Back. To the ryokan. Something something, there's a difficult to convey joke in Tsukasa's space, referencing sabi-neko (tortie cats (female cats?)) and also making a pun on 'service'. I get it I get it, Tsukasa is Amane's slave, you don't have to keep telling me...

Everyone gets along surprisingly well.

(This was an amazing year for TsuNene too, of course....)

I say all that but we do get revealed, during this cafe event, that. I guess Hanako is predatory and out here definitely seeming like he wants the guests to eat food to make them tastier and then get eaten. And Nene is also has insatiable lust to consume a human, which is like, upsetting, when you consider Tsukasa is a secret harbored human here. I guess Hanako has no issues with conspiring with his hot co-workers about how delectable humans are, while his 'twin brother' (not really?) (fetish RP?) is locked up in the closet or something. And I guess he does that all day and humps Tsukasa later like mmm my precious little dartyy secret boy.

Bonus thing, there was this insidious meta happening as I watched fujoshi repeatedly visiting the cafes and trying to eat as much scattered sushi and Tsukasa's Milk as possible. while the narrative is about entrapping people and fattening them up for slaughter. IG it felt kind of ghoulish that they couldn't resist the bait of the location and presentation of the meals.

August. Who are they lol? Some more fetish outfits... Amane and his collars, and Tsukasa looking like some little hentai mask girlie. The vibe is like, Amane is a cool super villain, and Tsukasa is there to go kyaaaa ❤

There's some stupid mokke promotional image that informs us these boys have ? horsie tails? so they are like, unicorns? We're having fun with animalish boys lately, I suppose... Thank you sensei (???) I can think about these unicorn boys and a fair maiden now.

Later in August, V20's inner sleeve images. Simply satisfying to see, thank you... back against back...

AND DELIGHTFULLY we get Amane-kun and Tsukasa-kun sillytimes too. AMANE BEING JEALOUS!! SHITTY!!! If you spend too much time working on a school festival, your older brother is going to feel abandoned and lonelyyy...

Starting September a little diabolically. Kitty in lap... This serene expression on Tsukasa... The fujoshi were troubled once more, that it could Be Like This.

Petting you, scritching your chin, going to pick the cattail fluffs out of your fur... Intimate moments like these must happen all the time. Sighhh...

Advertising V20 later in September. These images are so-- the genders. Amane looks like he is going to beat Tsukasa with that wrench. Scary guy. Tsukasa, a natural vixen, as usual. The framing of him before the big clock... Artful.

Bonus lil sad guy in late September... A look into the Amane that misses Tsukasa when he went missing. XU !!! I like to think he was truly helpless without Tsukasa there, pining for him.

Fsr between everything, TsuNene is getting buck wild and ramping up, until you get Tsukasa kissing Nene... She gets smallified in the manga and I'm suddenly like wtf canon moments of oniiloli for TsunNene. And Monster Nursery comes back so it really hammers in. IT'S JUST A VERY INTERESTING YEAR PSYCHOLOGICALLY. And VERY fun if you're me, shipping all 3 of them. Woooooo (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Anyways November has our last couple major beats...

Tsukasa asserting that Amane won't come if he called, never has, alludes to so much. Why were you calling? For what, how long, what convinced you Amane would never? The idea of a Tsukasa that would plead to be saved or helped in any manner is dizzying. Beyond that — does Tsukasa not believe he has implicit value, not something Amane covets...?

(Meanwhile, I have to love that he confides this to Nene, and encourages her to get them out of this situation. Tsukasa had to make his way out of his own entrapment[?] in the past, and he believes Nene can too. They're similar, aren't they? Hehe.)

The pacing of the fall, Tsukasa catching Nene, then the ambiguous line, as if he mouthed Amane's name to himself...

And he shows up, like your hero, I guess.

'何？' ⬅ ??? ??? ?? Atrocious. Could that truly be your response? With that expression? Moody, hands in pockets, acting cool... You do all that and then you throw Tsukasa's handcuffed arms over your neck. Saving your two captive princesses... It's absurd out here. The fujoshi are dying for a reason.... You get sick of inhaling the toxic fumes of twincest miasma.

I suppose to make me less angry at them, AidaIro present a final birthday offering.

Naughtyyy shrimpt stealing boy... I can't believe it. Amane! You would steal the shrimps your mom is slaving away at, and hand them to your brother. He's going for more! Tsukasa is innocent and he of course must appreciatively eat your pilfered shrimp... But goodness.

Iet's simple, it's cute, it's a lovely illustration with lovely colors, it depicts another moment from canon we haven't seen (right before photos?) Silly and cute and says a lot about their relationship still! I feel like Tsukasa is often passive like a sweet kitten while Amane is a naughty boy. Wah!

A truly devastating glorious year, I feel so valid, I feel like I'm stuck on my throne, which is also a torture device, I'm strapped to it, there's a horrendous machine stuffing grapes in my mouth, I'm being laughed at, I'm crying. That's what it is like to ship AmaTsuka right now I suppose. HanaNeneTsuka thrums in the background all the while, ominous and foreboding. We get closer and closer to the end goal of all 3....

I'm looking forward to 2024. よろしくお願いします.

#☀️#❤️💜#this is my Yugi twins wrapped post

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vajazzly · 1 year ago

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Underrated ship? Explain why Sirius/Rabastan is good idea? Rant about jegulus! Headcanons for bartylus?

UNDERRATED SHIP i mean i gotta say prongsfoot. and also wolfstarbucks !!!! there is NO REASON in my mind that james would get together with REGULUS (wizard racist, terminally uncool, etc) when SIRIUS (the coolest, charming, always correct, smart, beautiful, etc) is RIGHT THERE. hes right there!!!! and theyre canonically incredibly devoted to one another, cant stand being separated.... YEAH. and then what the hell throw remus, the friend they both risk everything to help and defend on several occasions.... YEP. every perfect power couple needs their damp self-loathing pathetic Guy to round things out !!! they need a Project!!

sirius and rabastan is objectively hilarious and i really do love a little slutty sirius - he can make terrible decisions and be self destructive as a treat !!! i think sirius knows hes attractive, and usually just doesnt care about anyone other than james and remus, but if theres one thing about him hes gonna find a way to self destruct/self harm as a coping mechanism !!! and hey, that distant relatives wedding is soooo boring, he deserves to have a little fun!

ok, bartylus frat boy headcanons:

-courtesy of @kaleidoscopexsighs beautiful brain: they enjoy paddling each other, claiming its some sort of frat boy hazing ritual, but, well.... its just spanking innit

-vacations in the hamptons, aspen, etc, neither of them ski but theyre there to be seen and suck dick

-regulus works in finance, barty works in tech

-reguluss parents hate everything about barty when they meet him officially as reguluss bf- hes a man, they see him as a social climber, his manners are atrocious, etc. regulus is convinced if they become successful and as heteronormative as possible while still being gay his parents will come around. they will not

-they are republicans/tories

-they have 0 queer friends because other gay people fucking hate them

-this includes sirius

-barty wears boat shoes, regulus wears loafers

#bat tag #pls i love talking about frat boys bartylus

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8-rae-rae-8 · 9 months ago

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Regress, Reblog, Regret, Reward.

Read On AO3

Gavin Reed runs a blog for his mental health, specifically his age regression. A certain RK900 finds it.

1/?

3k words

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Gavin never wanted a caregiver of any sort, the most self sufficient he’d ever felt was when he was regressing. The lack of worries over work, not having to share a space… He happily, and easily, took care of himself. He found it to be his main coping strategy once he learned everything that could be learned about it, influence from an old therapist sealed the deal. One coping mechanism he found that worked consistently.

As common as ‘tantrums’ were with him, they successfully got out all the negatives and left him feeling better. Crying, kicking, shouting.. It worked and it didn’t hurt the ones he was close to, or used to be close to. He had his moments still, of course. But his coworkers didn’t get the brute of it. The less disciplinary files he had the better. It all worked in his favor.

Over the years, he had started a blog on a site he had already regularly used. Something centered around his regression specifically. Not knowing anyone who coped in the same way, he was determined to find others and settle into a nice community. It took more time than he’d like to admit to block as many NSFW tags and accounts as he could, and blocking more as they popped up. He was cautious. More times than not, he’d scroll his phone on the age regression tags while he was regressing. Just to get that feeling of togetherness in the times he was completely alone, which was a lot of the time. He knew he shouldn’t, really, because of his fragile state of mind and the possibility of coming across triggering content. But aside from shows, toys, and a few games, he didn’t have much.

He was fine being alone, though, even if it picked at him sometimes. That bit of loneliness could sting like a motherfucker on hard nights. Nights were he would debate between a pacifier, a calm show, and smoking some weed for a break from the weight he carried on his shoulders. Sometimes he’d do all three to alleviate the stress for even a few minutes. The weed helped loosen him up most times, but if he had more than his usual, he’d get paranoid. Checking windows, seeing things from the corner of his eyes. Usually he would catch on before it got bad, other times he would sit in an anxious haze, then go get his pacifier and lay in a lit room with his stuffed animal that he had deemed his protector. A teddy with a gold crown, a shield and a sword. Something an old friend got him from build-a-bear. Someone he had trusted deeply, then broke that trust. Even still, he loved that plush.

The blogged helped that sort of loneliness. With the asks he received, the replies and other interactions let him breathe in a sense of belonging that he thought he had lost many years ago. He grew close with a few of the people on there, the ones he interacted with most. They had a small group of mutuals. As he had learned more, he was very happily accepted into being a little sort of sibling group with them. It was as close as he’d gotten to a family again in a long while. And as he grew a bit more popular, he got comfortable messaging with people he didn’t quite know. But he never messaged or posted while regressed, a rule that was mostly to protect himself.

Those sessions of interacting with followers became more often the more relaxed he got on the site. He, of course, refused to show his face or name whatsoever. He posted under the name ‘little-forest-cub’, with nothing to allude to his job, name or location. But it was inspired by one of his favorite nicknames when small. He’s just a little bear, a small cub. Sometimes people questioned if he was a pet regressor as well with all the bear themed things, and would usually respond with a simple ‘i don’t know’ when he knew he probably did.

Never once did he tell anyone about any of this at work, the only person that hardly knew barely showed up anymore, even with the addition of the plastic prick- Connor, though he had noticed the difference he had made. It was important that they didn’t know. He was always thankful that the account was under a different email than the ones he would use for work or casual, normal day-to-day things. He had done everything in his power to keep everything separate.

Never once did he mention it or bring it up at work, nor did he check his account there either.

But one morning, an day he had off work more specifically, he checked his inbox to find a follow notification that made his stomach drop. A new message alongside that.

The face of his new-ish partner at work. An even worse version of Connor that really got him stirring. He almost made it impossible for him to keep working on his problems of anger issues and still feeling that ‘anti-android’ sentiments. Gavin still swore up and down that the detective models were going to take his job. Out-preform him and render him useless. And as much as RK800 told him, and the other coworkers that the RK900 came to work there already deviant, Gavin still didn’t want to believe that they had feelings and felt them on the same, if not higher, levels. It took a lot of time to get him to warm up to him, but at the very least, he called the android his name and the proper chosen pronouns.

The newer model was donned himself ‘Nines’, which Gavin had called stupid in a childish fit of annoyance. In no world was it necessary for him to hate the android as much as he did. That hatred faded ever so slightly over time as they were forced to work together. He argued every step of the way, until it hit about the third week. He had gotten injured and the RK900 helped him all the way to safety and waited with him for an ambulance. In that time, he realized that maybe Nines didn’t want to replace him. Because in his mind, he would have let him bleed out if he wanted him gone. But he didn’t do that. Then he realized that he must be doing a little better with his therapies if he isn’t jumping to the worst conclusion ever.

Nines didn’t seem as bad from that point, he even let the android fight back with him instead of storming out whenever something went wrong or he got pissed off. Sure, the comments could be horrible, but he would feel himself smirk a little when he got a response. A reaction of any kind rather than some dull, stupid look like he usually did after he got pissed. The android stopped feeling like such a threat, with lingering suspicion still, but the subtle shift in Nines’ steel gray eyes to something that felt more human let him put his guard down just a little.

But the follower notice and the message brought a sick feeling back to his mouth. The trust gained immediately felt like it went down the drain. That stupid robot face felt like it was mocking him as he stared at it. How did he find it? Of course the fucking android would, right? The bastard saw everything, he could even see his heart rate, caffeine consumption levels, or stress levels, just by looking at him. Oh how Gavin hated it.

Of course this is how his off day goes. The one day this week that he was even able to take off, Fowler constantly bitched about how he was on the clock overtime and the higher ups didn’t want to pay him for that, but wouldn’t give him a solid day off. And now he needed to go in to find Nines and throttle him-

No. He’s supposed to be working on that. He’s supposed to be trying to be civil. It was only just getting better and the android just had to go and fuck it up. If he had just kept to himself.

Gavin’s teeth clenched harder and harder as he hesitated to open the message, until a sharp pain shocked him into releasing that tension. That plastic prick. He wanted to get rid of the evidence, maybe just delete the whole account. If Nines had no proof, he could deny it, right? Wrong. He hated that stupid detective programming in Nines’ hardware, he could tell if Gavin was lying.

He forced his hand to the screen, pressing the notification and daring to skim the message. Not a word got rid of the sick taste in his mouth. It felt uniquely Nines, dull, characterless, and straight to the damn point.

It read:

“Good morning, I came across your account and I wanted to talk to you about this today. Can we meet at the station at 3pm today?”

Clearly not a care in the damn world from the android, and not a doubt it was Gavin either. As a detective, he should have known that he should have made the account as untraceable as possible, but he didn’t. Something he was deeply regretting now. Bile rose in his throat as he began to think. His one safe space could be so easily ripped away from him. And it was being taken, pried from his hands.

He desperately wanted to just ignore the message, let it rot in his inbox and try to forget. It wasn’t a feasible choice when Nines would undoubtedly stare him down every day until they spoke. So, on his day off, he pulled himself out of bed and went for a cold shower first thing. He waited to reply, just to be the most inconvenient as he possibly could be.

And when he did reply, he simply sent a thumbs up emoji and blocked the account Nines had used. For now, he couldn’t let the android stay on his page where he wasn’t welcomed.

Minutes were spent pacing. The last time anyone knew, they abused Gavin’s blind trust. They made his regression impure for months at a time before he seeked help from his therapist, then his community. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Nines had known, how much he had seen. It only made sense he would have looked as far back as he could, he was programmed to learn. That didn’t just disappear when he deviated.

His comfort jacket was left at home without a second thought, all of his comforting things were left behind. He couldn’t bring it along. He especially couldn’t bring his bag, more of a satchel kind of thing. It held everything he could possibly need. It had what he called his ‘panic paci’, a small sensory square what made crinkle sounds and was nice to touch, a small pack of tissues, and a thin, childish water bottle. A bag with things he kept for ‘just in case’ scenarios. But he had to risk not bringing it to be at least able to get Nines off his back.

He could almost hear the android’s reasons for concern now as he walked out of his apartment. It all made his stomach twist in knots with all the possibilities. Maybe he didn’t look it, but he felt pale. Clammy hands, racing heart, cold sweat, skin cold to the touch. It was almost nauseating how this got under his skin. His stupid coworker with his ridiculously smart fake brain he could so easily blow out. There would be no replacement with Cyblerlife mostly down and not making new androids. And as much as he hated his blue guts, he shook off those thoughts. If he even tried to speak like that with his therapist, they would ask things that always felt dumb to Gavin, ‘think about where he’s coming from’ or ‘listen before you decide how you feel’. Oh how it pissed him off even more, but.. His progress. He found it mattering more in his decision making because his therapist made gave him a reward system. Something a parent or a teacher would give a troublesome child. It bothered him just as it much as it helped, really.

The drive up to the station wasn’t much easier. The automatic taxi he took only forced him to think more about the android he had to talk to. Had to. It would risk his job if he didn’t. As he thought, he repeated that in his head. It would risk his job if he didn’t talk to Nines. That bastard would try to get him under investigation if he didn’t meet with him, Gavin was sure. He would try to replace him, just as he thought.

He was hot headed as he pulled up, a strong dizziness to match. No food, no coffee, nothing to prepare himself even after being awake so long. His eye bags were heavy, eyes sore. The more he forced himself, the more strain he put on his brain. Of course a headache was brewing the moment he stepped inside and that cold office air was directly on his cold face.

“Detective Reed.” The RK900 greeted him at their desks as if this was just another day, as if Gavin didn’t look like hell reincarnated. Steely cold eyes followed his every movement and no fear in them when Gavin dared to step up to him.

He wanted nothing more than to pull him into a nasty brawl, a bar fight times ten.

“You fucking bastard.” Gavin decided to start with. He didn’t bother with greetings, nor did he especially care about if the android was being helpful. The words his therapist would say lingered, but he didn’t want to listen when the plastic prick was right in front of him.

“Detective, be civil. We just need to talk.” Nines spoke, just as calm and calculated as always. Cold, too.

“Don’t give me bullshit, you know what you’re doing.” He lowered his voice, hands going to shove the android back by his shoulders against the glass divider that separated the hall and the bullpen. Gavin held a permanent scowl on his face.

The android hardly reacted while keeping a stare down at the detective. “Gavin, I’m not doing anything. I wanted to discuss your safety, and perhaps some of your history.”

His safety? His history? Oh hell no.

“You’re gonna fucking replace me, that it? You want me to spill shit, try and get me feeling soft so you get get me out.” Gavin pressed Nines back, keeping him against the glass with pure anger in his eyes. How could he not be pissed? He snapped with easy conviction.

“Detective, with your behavior, maybe you need it.”

Oh he was going to get it.

Right in the bullpen, Gavin pressed his forearm against the android’s throat and pinned him back against that glass divider. It would be easy for Nines to overpower him. This was a power trip, in a way. A reaction to a trigger. Even though he could fight back this time, he let Gavin have his time.

“I don’t need shit. I have what I need, and you fucking invaded that space. Shut up!” Gavin growled at him, brows pulled into a scrunch that burned at the surrounding skin.

He let Gavin have his outburst.

Profanities and threats were scowled at him until Gavin couldn’t hold him up there anymore. When he did let go, he pushed his head back against the glass too. Not enough to break anything, not even skin, but to get his point across.

He patiently waited. And waited.

When Gavin was out of breath and finally sitting, Nines looked down at him with some horrible mix of concern and annoyance.

“That’s enough of that tantrum, detective.” He spoke, and that anger flared up again. Gavin’s fists bunched up in his lap. It was a play, he was sure. But then a hand was rested on his shoulder.

“I’m not reporting you, nor am I replacing you.”

Gavin wanted to call bullshit. Why else would the android have even bothered to find his safe space, and intrude in it, then ask to talk at their workplace of all spaces? His mouth opened to speak.

“Ah.” Nines tsked. “I wanted to talk to you, both because I found the blog and I wanted to know if that was contributing to your new.. behavior.”

Behavior?!

This prick talking to him like he was a child was more enraging than anything else. His behavior… BS. He hadn’t changed outside of a bit of a lighter perspective.

“You don’t get to comment on anything, asshole. You’re the motherfucker getting in my shit then fucking me over.” Gavin sat up straighter into Nines’ space. He remained deflective, accusatory. He needed to.

“Well, I’m commenting anyway. You’re more lax, you have gotten more sleep, you have consumed much less caffeine, you aren’t snapping as much. Your last unprovoked fight was weeks ago.” It felt like utter lies to hear. He didn’t change that much, did he?

Tina had commented that she saw him actually smiling at something other than an animal video the week before. He had let Hank talk to him once too. He kept composed in one meeting with Fowler. And he hadn’t had to buy a new coffee grind that week either.

Was he that different?

“I don’t want your fake empathy your plastic brain thinks it has. Nothing is different.” Gavin deflected, again. He didn’t think anything was much different at all, or maybe he was just lying to get away.

The android seemed truly a bit disheartened by that, a small pang of guilt went through Gavin’s system.

“Gavin.” Nines was much more firm. “I’m not the bad guy here. You’re stressing yourself out. Your heart rate is high and you’re tense. Stay here, I’m going to get you water.”

And for some reason, Gavin stayed in his seat. Stirring in his anger, but it turning more to annoyance and exhaustion.

#dbh agere #agere #fandom agere #gavin reed #rk900 #gavin dbh #nines rk900 #dbh #detroit become human #nines x gavin #detroit become human agere

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sissytobitch10seconds · 2 months ago

Text

Help Me

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: Klaus wants to have his family act like they at least pretend to like each other, and the first step of that is finding wherever they got off to. Viktor just happens to be the only one that stuck around where he was before they got involved in this whole mess. Warnings: Addiction, alcoholism, addiction recovery, mental health issues, and unhealthy coping mechanisms Word Count: 7,301 Ship(s): Viktor Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves

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A/N: Did you guys expect me to let up on this ship? I've had a headcanon that they could really help each other with their addictions since the beginning. Let's be real, the pill-popping in S1 was going to come back and bite Viktor in the ass at some point when he wasn't living in an adrenaline-filled haze and jumping from apocalypse to apocalypse. So I decided to explore some of what might have happened here, so be mindful of the tags because I tried to write accurately what he would struggle with. Thank you for giving this fic an opportunity! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

The days after his arrival into the new universe were a muddled, confusing mess that Viktor could barely parse out. He knew that he had sustained some kind of head injury when he was fighting the Guardians in Oblivion, but he had been hoping that would have been healed the way that the injuries that the others had sustained would be. He supposed that since it was Allison that had pressed the button then he wouldn’t be, so he made the best out of the situation.

The best of the situation happened to be wandering down the dark streets that he barely remembered as he tried to find his way back to his apartment. The place was exactly as he had left it, minus all of the blood and destruction that had been caused by Harold when he had discovered the truth and then lashed out about it. He still felt a little bad for that, even though he knew that the man he had come to know as Leonard had been using him and even murdered several people to get to the place he was at. Something inside of him hated killing people and likely always would.

After the night that he spent in his apartment, he slotted back into his life just like he had before he had been sucked into the wacky world his siblings occupied. He taught his students, he was berated at rehearsal, and he promised his neighbor that he hadn’t seen her cat but would tell her if he ever did. He knew that was part of the reason that he wasn’t able to remember a lot of the time that he had spent when he first arrived in the new universe. Another reason was what was currently sitting in his hand.

Everything had just been so loud and is heart had ached so dramatically. He didn’t really miss Leonard as much as he missed having someone near him. He missed Sissy something fierce, she had been by his side for so long when he was in such a confusing and scary part of his life. Losing the two people that had helped him realize who he really was left him feeling lost and confused, like he didn’t quite know where which way to turn.

So he had gone to the place where every maladjusted adult that felt scared and alone went. He found himself on a bar stool or in one of the liquor stores almost everyday as he replenished the stock that he had drank out of his own apartment or got something fresh where he could people watch. He had once been told that drinking was something social, people could be easily pressured into it since everyone around them was doing the same thing. Viktor had never been pressured into drinking because no one had ever wanted him to be around, so he had turned something that was supposed to be social into an isolated activity once again.

It had been almost six months since he had gone to bed without some kind of a bottle in his hand. He had come to the bar again, hoping that someone would finally come over and talk to him about anything that wasn’t music related, but he was once again left on his own.

Viktor let out a low sigh as he brought the edge of his beer to his lips, his eyes glued onto the hockey. He had gotten pretty knowledgeable about sports due to the amount of time that he spent in bars, which he thought would him make friends but hadn’t. Just as he set the bottle back down on the bar, he heard someone slide onto the stool next to him and turned to see who it was.

As soon as he had, he almost fell off of his own stool. Klaus had cut his hair and was devoid of the tattoos that made him so iconic back in their home timeline, but it was still him through and through. His skin had a sallow tone to it, just as it had when they were teenagers and he had just returned from rehab. His hair looked like it had been cut with safety scissors and his nails were entirely devoid of nail polish.

Viktor opened his mouth to say something, but the other man beat him to it. “I heard that you come here a lot,” Klaus said. He took the beer from Viktor and instead of drinking it, set it as far away from the both of them as they could reach.

“So what?” he asked. He got off of his stool and walked down the length of Klaus’ arms so that he could pick his drink back up. It was only about half full and if he didn’t finish it then he hadn’t gotten his money’s worth. It wasn’t one of the days that he had spent quite a lot to get something high quality, but he made so little as a musician that he really wanted to finish off what he had spent his savings on.

“So, don’t you think that’s not healthy?” Klaus asked as Viktor sat back down. He took the drink again, after Viktor had successfully downed another sip, and then tossed it at the wall.

The bar went incredibly quiet as everyone that had been talking in low voices withe ach other turned their heads to where Klaus and Viktor were sitting near the bar. The tender behind the counter looked absolutely irate, and immediately shouted, “Absolutely not! Out, both of you.”

“What, but he threw my drink, not me!” Viktor scoffed.

“You’re both trouble and I want you out,” the bartender replied as he pointed towards the door again.

“Tom, I come in here all the time, I’ve never acted up before. Don’t you trust me?” Viktor asked.

“I have no idea who you are outside of an alcoholic since you apparently come in here so often. Now get out,” Tom repeated again.

Viktor stood up and hurriedly grabbed his bag. The anger that was leaking out of him was almost palpable in the air as he stormed out of the bar and straight down the street towards his apartment. He knew that he still had about half a bottle of scotch there and that would be sure to finish the job that the beer had been doing before it was so rudely taken from him.

The implication that he was still noticeable enough that a bar he frequented wouldn’t know who he was had gotten his blood boiling more than he thought possible at this point. He was fuming with anger, stamping his feet down on the pavement and muttering to himself. He was his own person without magic and powers and interference from his father in this world, but that didn’t erase everything that Reginald had done to him. Every time someone that should have known who he was simply because he had been around them long enough to be a part of their background cast decided they didn’t know who he was, it brought back all the memories of being scorned and dismissed by his siblings.

He didn’t even think about Klaus following him to his apartment until he heard the familiar voice calling out for him. “Me hermano!” Klaus grinned as he slung an arm around his shoulders and prevented him from stomping off as quickly.

“What do you want, Klaus?” Viktor asked. As he spun to talk to the other man face-to-face, he pushed Klaus off of him with a careful jut of his shoulders. He was angry from being called a nobody again and he was angry that Klaus had thrown his beer at the wall when KLaus himself had been on so many substances when they were kids that he barely even recognized his name.

“I think that the two of us need to have a talk,” Klaus replied. His face dropped so that it was deadly serious and he pressed his hands, palms pressed together, to the center of his mouth and tip of his nose. “There’s something going on with you, Vikky.”

“I chose the name Viktor to avoid being feminized, thank you,” the smaller sibling replied as he turned on his heel and began to march into the city. He knew that Klaus was good enough with people and technology that he would be able to find out where Viktor lived eventually, but it felt easier to make sure that he didn’t do it tonight. He was having a bad day and he wanted to get wasted so that he was able to forget that for a little while.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m a little out of my head because I just got out of rehab and the ghosts are so loud right now. Would you slow down and go back to your apartment so that the two of us can actually talk?” Klaus asked. His voice took on a whiny tinge towards the end like it always had when he was being asked to do homework that he was opposed to.

“I don’t see what we have to talk about. You guys can’t keep flaking out into the wind and then come rushing back into my life like that’s going to fix all the damage that you were complicit in,” Viktor snapped. It was a lot more honest than he usually was with his siblings, but he figured that it was at least somewhat warranted given what they had done to him in the last timeline. He was still able to see Sissy’s face when they teleported away from her, could still hear the shrill cry that he realized was Harlan dying now that he knew what Allison had done, and he could still feel the ways that Leonard had abused him when no one had come to check on him and make sure that he was okay.

“We have a lot of things to talk about, brother mine,” Klaus said. He slung his arm around Viktor’s shoulders and then made them turn down one of the roads that would actually lead to Viktor’s apartment.

“How do you know where I live?” Viktor asked, narrowing his eyes in disapproving skepticism. All of his siblings had peeled away from him and the garden that they had arrived in, he hadn’t seen any of them since he had picked up where his old life had left off.

“Because I looked you up in the phonebook. Surprisingly enough, Reginald still bothers to print those even though we all have these little mobile bricks in our pockets instead of the landlines that we’re used to. I think it’s because he runs some kind of weird surveillance state. Or maybe the universe just really wanted me to find you so that I could help you out,” Klaus said. He was grinning, big and wide and sober.

Viktor should have been happy about that, but instead he just felt defensive and angry. He felt angry about a lot of things now, more so than he had when he was still trudging through the feelings that he had about his powers. It had been seven months since he’d realized he had powers and about six since he knew who he was with the powers. He had come to terms with the fact that he was special, or at least he thought that he had.

He let out a long sigh as he continued to walk towards his apartment with Klaus hanging off of him. He let the other man into his apartment and then began to rifle through his cupboards to find the bottle of scotch. When he located it, he was disappointed to see that there was only about a finger and a half left in it instead of the half he was sure he had left. He wondered when he had drunken it, but supposed that it didn’t matter as he rinsed out one of his cups.

“More alcohol? Don’t you think that you’ve had enough for today?” Klaus asked. He walked around the tiny dining table that Viktor was letting the junk mail he kept meaning to recycle pile up on.

“How would I have had enough when you took my beer and threw it at the wall?” Viktor asked, a bit incredulous. He was so upset about the violation of trust and his funds that his brother had demonstrated. Klaus had always been the most destructive out of all of them, when they were kids mostly around the house and when they were adults mostly to his own body.

“I was in that bar for a lot longer than you thought, Vik. I saw the way that you were guzzling down the martinis before you ordered something that you thought made you look manly,” he replied. He put his arms up and made a shouting noise that was supposed to exemplify how manly it was to drink beer or something.

“I did that because I like beer. You didn’t have to throw my fucking drink against the wall. I was just barely starting to get that fucking buzz,” Viktor complained. He set the glass down on the counter and then turned towards his brother. The anger felt good, even if it still scared him to have emotions that were that forceful and overwhelming.

“I had to do something so that you would get out of there, Vik! Imagine what all that grimey shit is doing to your liver,” he said as he pulled a face. “Plus, you looked positively miserable.”

“I don’t see why you get to make a comment about what alcohol might be doing to my liver when you pumped yourself full of everything under the sun as soon as you learned where it was sold and how much it cost,” Viktor replied snarkily. He could feel the way that his pants were chafing against his legs when he moved from too much walking today and he longed for that numb feeling again. Adrenaline and fear spiked in his chest when he saw that Klaus was getting off the table, because he immediately assumed that he was going to be in trouble for smarting off. Images of Carl and Harold charging at him when he had said something they didn’t like flashed in his mind.

“Viktor, I’m just worried about you. When we were kids, you were always the purest of us all. I don’t even remember you enjoying drinking all that much when we were in the sixties and there was no social stigma about it back then,” Klaus said. Viktor narrowed his eyes and continued to glower at his brother, which allowed the silence in the room to press forward. He sighed and began to explain, “I just got out of rehab after going on a pretty long bender. You know me, I would usually just get out there and get right back at it, but I had someone ask me something for the first time that really influenced me.”

“Oh my fucking God, Klaus,” Viktor groaned as he dropped his head into his hands. “Are you saying that I’m an alcoholic or something? I have a drink or two every night after I get off work to unwind. Is it the healthiest thing? No, but at least I’m not doing meth or something. You don’t get to come into my life and then boss me around, Allison already tried that and then she realized that she hated me and left.”

“Viktor, I’m just worried about you!” Klaus said as he held his hands out to the side of him. It was strange to see that his palms were completely devoid of the tattoos that he’d had since they were eighteen and he’d been able to save up enough money to get tattoos instead of drugs.

“You’re not worried about me, you just want to put your issues on me so that you don’t have to think about your own shitty life. I think it would be best if you just left me alone. I’m not an alcoholic or an addict or about to blow up the fucking world again, just leave me alone,” he was shouting by the time tha the got to the end of the sentence.

Viktor’s chest was still heaving when the look on Klaus’ face changed from hurt to rage. He turned on his heel and marched out of the apartment entirely, slamming the door behind him. Viktor knew that he had likely burned another bridge, but he was really getting sick of people telling him what to do when it came to his life. He had wanted advice and help and people telling him what to do when he was launched into a world that he had never had any experience with, but that was almost an entire decade ago. He had figured all the hard shit out on his own and now he had people telling him that he could and couldn’t do certain things when he had already figured it out. He didn’t need them, he just needed himself.

---

Years had passed.

As time went on, he began to feel worse and worse about the way that his life was leading him and about his health overall. He had assumed that it was the bad memories, the chance of running into any one of his siblings around any corner and having to deal with them like he had dealt with Klaus. Viktor had moved to Canada, away from all the people that had once known him. It was easier to roam around without the constant panic that there was something waiting for him that would bite him in the ass, especially his siblings.

He opened a bar, since he had been spending a lot of time in one when he was in The City. It was easier to run that he thought it would be, especially since he had hit a bit of a niche market. He liked being able to see people and their drama unfolding without having to be involved in it. Hearing about Old Man Jeska getting a divorce was so much easier than being the catalyst to a couple breaking up with each other (and the husband ending up dead). Watching a wedding party arrive and the people peel off in partners together was always interesting, especially when he saw some of them return with each other or someone else that had been involved in the wedding party.

It was also nice that he wasn’t judged for drinking himself. He had something sitting behind the counter with a coaster over it almost every time he ended up tending. If he was downstairs and doing paperwork for the bar in the corner, it wasn’t abnormal for him to have a glass of something strong to get him through it. People never commented on it, at least not in the beginning.

He began to have a few of his employees reach out to him, worried about his behavior. He had never done anything hurtful to them, but they had seen the way that he cried into his phone or mumbled something about Sissy and Harlan while wiping away his tears. He had also gotten a couple of comments about having a liver of steal from his regulars, which made him begin to rethink how much he had consumed.

Viktor was pacing the upper floor of the bar that he had transformed into an apartment for him to live in since he had only been able to afford one instead of both. He had his phone pressed to his ear as it rang over and over again. The sound once would have been comforting to him, a sign that the line was still connected and his siblings weren’t at ends with him enough to change their entire number. Now, though, it was more nerve wracking than anything he had ever experienced because all he could think about was the things that they could be saying to each other about him.

He had never assumed that his siblings talked about him behind his back before he had gotten his powers back. They had never had any reason to, other than to complain about his violin playing or ask why he was still in the Academy when he was completely powerless and devoid of anything unique. Now, he was the person that had blown up the moon and caused all their lives to descend into chaos. Their lives hadn’t quite been the fairytale wonderfulness that they had made them out to be since so much time had passed since they had lived in that reality, but they still knew them to be safe and comfortable compared to the uncertainty they had facing them now.

When the line finally clicked as it went through, he felt his heart jump to his throat and he began to panic in full. Before it had been something subdued, the skip of his heartbeat and the catch of his breath in his throat. Now, it was the sinking of his blood into the base of his feet before it shot throughout his body to carry the emotion through the rest of him. He could feel his palms and back sweating, the way that his entire body began to shiver.

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice asked on the other side.

“Who is this? I thought that I was calling Klaus,” Viktor said. He knew that his brother would sleep with someone regardless of their gender, but he had never had a serious romantic relationship outside of the one that he’d apparently found while fighting in Vietnam. The girl on the other end sounded like she was incredibly young too, which was also very out of character for Klaus. He couldn’t imagine his brother being in a relationship with someone twenty years his junior or in a relationship with someone that had children at all.

“Uncle Klaus doesn’t really answer the phone anymore. He said that the only reason he let me answer his phone this time was because you never call him and it must be a big deal,” the girl on the other end said. “Oh, and he told me to put you on speaker so that you can answer a security question or something. Don’t get too weirded out by it.”

With Klaus? Nothing is too weird,” Viktor replied. Halfway through his sentence, he heard the background noise of the call change in a way that let him know he was now on speaker. He said, “Hi, Klaus. Who am I speaking to?”

“I’ve got my little niece Claire with me. Between you and me, Allison is actually quite an absent mom so the two of us spend a lot of time together. She makes sure I pack my little brown bag and I help her with the homework that I remember doing when I was her age,” Klaus replied. His voice sounded a little strained and out of it.

“So, none of it?” Viktor laughed. The only way that he had been not the worst at something when he was living in the Academy was because Klaus had been so doped up on drugs that he had been unable to turn in anything resembling a completed piece of homework the entire time that they were studying together. It made Viktor sad in retrospect, the fact that his brother was allowed to ruin himself in such a way, but that just reminded him of why he was calling him in the first place.

“Yay, you passed your first security question! Now the other twenty should go by just fine, I can hear your voice and even though it’s changed I’m just going to believe that it’s you anyway,” Klaus replied.

“Klaus, I kind of don’t have time for this. I called you about something that I don’t really want to talk about in front of the nine-year-old niece I’ve never met,” Viktor rushed out.

“I can hear hard things!” Claire said indignantly. It was the kind of thing that Viktor had said himself when he was around her age and his siblings had started to go out on missions with each other. He had struggled so much with being treated like the baby of the Academy simply because at the time he had no powers and experience with the outside world. He knew now that he probably wouldn’t have been able to handle all the death and destruction that was required of his fellow Academy kids at the time. Claire wouldn’t be able to to mentally handle the discussion that he and Klaus were about to have.

“I need her to be hear with me, Vik, I can’t touch my phone,” Klaus replied like it was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world.

“How long has he been like this?” Viktor asked. Despite the anxiety about his own situation hanging heavy over his head in that moment, he was also worried for his brother. Klaus hadn’t looked too good when the two of them had seen each other last, almost three years ago, but he had been on the up and up. It sounded like he had taken a rather sharp decline instead of continuing to improve like it sounded like he wanted to.

“Since he got out of rehab last. Mom says that he has something like OCD but he won’t go to a therapist because he doesn’t want to have to take any medications,” Claire replied. She sounded aged beyond her years, which only confirmed what Klaus had said about him raising her and Allison being incredibly absent as a mother. Viktor didn’t know what the story his sister had concocted for herself in this universe was, but she had always just wanted to have things without working for them. He assumed that her daughter fell into that slot as well, where it was nice to be known as a mother and have love when she wanted it but the work was left to other people to do.

“This really is a conversation that the two of us need to have on our own,” Viktor said quickly. “Preferably in person, but that’s part of the reason that I called you today.”

Klaus and Claire continued on the argument about how he was going to talk on the phone without touching it for a while longer. Almost five minutes had passed before Klaus agreed to one. Claire left the phone on the coffee table in his living room and then disappeared up the stairs. Viktor only continued talking when he knew that his niece had left the room entirely. “Do you remember when you ambushed me in that bar when I still lived in The City?”

“Of course I do! It was when I had just gotten out of rehab and that convo reminded me of the futility of staying sober enough that I decided I would try out drinking again. Turns out any substances lead me back to my old friends and I end up almost dying. Now that I know I only have one shot at this, I’m going to be as careful as I can be. Hence me checking who you were and not touching my phone without someone helping me,” Klaus replied.

Viktor felt guilt crawl up the back of his throat and sit heavily in his mouth. He had been angry and a little bit drunk when he and Klaus had spoken to each other, so he wasn’t entirely surprised that he had been so harsh when there was no real purpose for it. He had never wanted to regress Klaus’ recovery or make him feel like he had to resort back to those substances. He tried to remind himself that he had also been drowning in his own problems out the same way that Klaus had previously.

He took in a deep breath before he said, “I think that you were right. I know that I didn’t listen to you and I said a lot of horrible things to you, but I didn’t really mean them. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Vik,” Klaus said. “I shouldn’t have come into your home and made a bunch of shit up when I didn’t really know what I was talking about. I mean, I’ve never really lived a healthy life. Look at what I’m doing now!”

“Klaus, maybe you and I should help each other out or something. I just fucking realized that I’m an alcoholic and you’re currently so afraid of the world that you can’t even answer your own phone without relying on your nine-year-old niece,” Viktor said. It sounded like something that they family would do, very in character for them, but that didn’t mean that it was good overall.

Klaus was quiet for long enough that Viktor kind of worried that he had set off a panic attack in his brother. Finally, the other said, “I think that would actually be a good idea. I need someone that understands mental health issues enough to get me out of this hole. I’m miserable, Viktor. I miss being able to go out to parks and hang out with other people, I miss being able to eat food from restaurants without having to go home and microwave it again. I miss being able to go places without a stupid bag weighing me down so heavily that I feel like I’m going to sink through the floor!”

“Good, then that means you’re ready to work on some shit!” Viktor said. “I’ve got a lot of things to take care of up here, but we can find an apartment or something in a city nearby to Claire so you can keep an eye on her or something.”

“No, I think that Allie needs to put on her big girl pants and become an adult,” Klaus said.

“Don’t let her hear you say that, she’ll bring up the worst trauma that you’ve ever been through because she doesn’t like you for doing something that she did not two weeks before,” Viktor sniped back. The hurt that had come from his sister saying they should have left him in the basement had never healed. The trauma of that incident, both the one where he was an adult and the long stretch of time when he was a child, had left lasting damage on Viktor. To that day he still woke up in a cold sweat or had to play music when he was working because the silence of a world without his powers was stifling to him. Her saying that they should have left him down there when he had once thought she was his only hope to not be placed back into that kind of situation had hurt more than words could say and he would never forgive her for that.

“Damn, Vik, you’ve gotten so spicy! I have to say that it’s a lot more fun to hear you say that about someone else than to have it directed at me,” Klaus joked. It was supposed to be a joke at least, Viktor was able to tell that much. He may have lost the super hearing that he hadn’t even realized he’d had, but he was still able to hear the tonal change between when Klaus said that joke and when he continued talking after.

The two of them stayed on the phone for over two hours as they hashed out everything that they were going to do to help improve their lives. They were sick of having their father ruin everything good that might have come from their existence, so they were going to be taking it back into their own hands.

By the time that they had hung up that night, they had decided a couple of things. Klaus would move out of LA and The City, where he knew the drug dealers and exactly what was expected to get the vices he had relied on for too long. Viktor would sell his bar and start working for the local high school in helping teach orchestra, like he had always wanted to. They were both thinking about whether or not they could go to therapy given everything that had happened in their lives being unbelievable to a person that hadn’t grown up in the universe that they were from. At the very least, they were going to read a lot of self-help books and try to apply some of the things that experts who had their lives together said.

---

It had all gone a lot better than Viktor had expected it would. He had been sad about selling his bar, because seeing the sign over the top of the front door had always been an affirmation that he could be who he wanted to be regardless of what others thought. Still, picking a violin back up and smelling the dusty sheet music was something that brought more joy to him than a stiff drink ever had.

The apartment that they had found was small, but that was exactly what they had needed after growing up in the massive Academy mansion their entire lives. It had two bedrooms, a decent sized galley kitchen, a bathroom with a tub and a shower, and a living room that was big enough for two chairs and a couch. They had been able to buy it with the money that Klaus had saved up instead of spending on drugs and what Viktor had from selling his bar. Klaus helped Viktor paint the walls of his bedroom a chipper yellow color and hang up the embroidery that Diego had sent each of them after the second year that they had been in the new universe. A couple of newspaper clippings about their families, including the one announcing the opening and shutting of Viktor’s bar, went up as well. Klaus’ room was painted a deep mauve color with all kind of bright mandela tapestries hanging from the ceiling and down around his bed.

Neither of them judged the other for what they wanted their rooms to look like. They worked together and compromised evenly on what they decorated the communal spaces with so that it felt like somewhere that they were both allowed to be. It helped Klaus have some control over a world that felt very much out of control without allowing him to wrap everything in bubblewrap so that he could avoid dying. Viktor helped him eat things that might be dangerous, to walk around town without shoving himself into a neon shirt so he’d be seen by cars. In turn, Klaus held Viktor when he wanted to cry and scream and cause pain because of how badly he wanted to drink even though he knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was easier to realize how much of a problem he’d had when he had someone else to try and argue with.

They were laying on the floor of their shared apartment now, almost six months since they had moved in with each other. A lot of progress had been made on making their lives better, they were both sober and neither of them were letting their need for control rule over their lives. They had finished doing the newest yoga routine that Klaus had come up with after overseeing a class at the wellness studio that he was a custodian for. Viktor was sweaty and a little bit sore, but he felt at peace and comfortable for the first time since he had come to the new universe.

“I never realized how complicated and hard it was to have emotions. Is it wrong that I want to relive the moment where Allison killed Dad over and over again? I think it’s the only way that I can really feel better with all the shit that he pulled on me,” Viktor sighed.

Klaus was quiet for a bit, long enough that Viktor was beginning to worry if he had been awake at all. When they did these yoga times together, there was always a non-zero chance that one of them would get so calm that when they reached the last pose, they would simply fall asleep. Klaus usually snored when he was sleeping though, and currently he was just silent.

“I don’t think that it makes you a bad person,” he finally answered. “I think that it makes you human. What Reggie put you through in our timeline was absolutely fucking awful. I mean, at least locking me up in the crypt made some sense for my training. Putting you down in the custom dungeon he made for you was just stupid, so was drugging you. If he’d been an actual teacher instead of some weird alien bug scientist then he would have seen that our missions would have gone so much easier with you there,” Klaus whined a bit at the end.

Viktor turned his head to the side so that he could see the silhouette of the other Umbrella’s face. “Do you really think so?”

Klaus flopped dramatically onto his side as he said, “You’re one of the least violent people that I have ever met and you literally blew up the entire world. I think that you can have one little revenge fantasy as a treat.”

The grin that split Viktor’s face felt like it was going to tear the corners of his mouth. He inched a bit closer to Klaus, so that he was only half on the yoga mat instead of his entire body being cushioned by it. He let out a small sigh as he felt their foreheads press together.

Intimacy and physical touch was something that Viktor had never gotten as a child. The only hugs that he received were from Grace and Five, and both of those things left as soon as his childhood best friend disappeared. It was strange to have those things back with no expectations of what he would give in return. Klaus had always been a very tactile person, so holding hands and hugging had been something that immediately popped up when they moved in together. The cuddling was something that Viktor had originally initiated but something that they both enjoyed quite a bit, indulging in it often.

It made him feel safe and cherished in a way that he had never expected. Harold had held him while they slept, but the sex and cuddles with him were with the implication that he would help Harold get revenge in the end. Sissy had only been able to give Viktor those things when her husband and son weren’t around, which had made Viktor feel like a dirty little secret. Klaus gave love and physical affection to everyone, so it felt like something that Viktor could take without having to give back his entire self or be hidden away.

“Thank you for moving in with me,” Viktor whispered.

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity. I don’t want to think about why kind of nutcase I would be if you hadn’t managed to pull me out of my own head and get me some help,” Klaus said. The massive stack of self help books and articles about trauma-induced OCD were what had saved him, but Viktor was the one that had pushed him to do the research and try out the things suggested within those pages.

“Klaus,” Viktor breathed it like his name was a secret. He scooted forward on the floor so that they were closer to each other, legs almost tangled together but not quite. “Klaus,” he said again.

“What is it, baby?” Klaus asked. His long, dexterous fingers moved up to Viktor’s hair and began to play with the short-cut locks. It felt good and soothing, but it also made electricity spike across his skin and shoot down the back of his spine. It had been a long time since he had felt like that, and it was so adjacent to everything he had felt before that he wasn’t sure how to describe it properly.

“I like it when you call me that, but I wish that you meant it,” Viktor blurted. He supposed the endorphins and calming chemicals from the post-yoga cuddles had made his lips a lot looser. He only realized what he had said when the silence stretched on for a little too long and he felt his face to red with heat.

“What if I told you that I did mean it?” Klaus asked after a while.

Viktor propped himself up on his elbow so that he was looking down at the other man instead of hovering above him. “Do you understand what that implies?”

“I’m kind of asking you that question, babe,” Klaus replied.

Viktor let out a long-suffering sigh. It was so hard for him to get his feelings into a tight enough row that he could talk about what they actually were, thanks to Reginald doping him up so strongly that he could barely walk. He had help and patience in the form of Klaus, so it only took him a little while before he said, “I want to date you, I think. It’s okay if you don’t want to date me, I know being trans really decreases my appeal and I did blow up the world and we did grow up together, but-”

He was cut off by a hand reaching out and taking his. “Viktor, calm down! You know that none of us really cared about the whole pseudo-incest thing, I used to say that so that I could rile Allison and Luther up. We were never siblings in the proper way, we were members of a cult or cabal or something. I would know, I was the leader of an alternative spiritual movement,” he grinned like a cat that had just caught a bug, brown eyes gleaming.

The smaller of the two men threaded their fingers together, both of them sitting up with their legs crossed and somewhat looking at each other. “So do you want to try taking our relationship to a different place? I’m okay remaining where we are, but I think that I want to be able to take more from you.”

“By more, do you mean my sexy bod?” Klaus asked, waggling his torso in a wave motion.

Viktor laughed again and said, “It certainly wouldn’t be a bad part of taking the relationship somewhere else. I think I just want to be able to call you mine in a way that’s more intimate than just being your friend and roommate. Is that okay?”

“Baby, I basically invented queerplatonic relationship. We don’t have to be romantic or sexual or anything other than what we want. You just tell me what you’re feeling that day and we’ll role with it,” Klaus grinned. “Can I call you my boyf?”

Viktor's face screwed up into a look of displeasure and he shook his head, “No. But you can call me your boyfriend, if you want.”

“I do want,” Klaus nodded. “You’re my boyfriend and I’m your partner. We love each other very much and we’re the only reason that the other is still alive in this universe.”

“Yeah,” Viktor grinned. He leaned forward and gently kissed Klaus’ cheek, marveling at the way that his beard was soft despite the stubble on Viktor’s cheeks being course. He dropped his head down onto Klaus’ shoulder and let himself be immersed in the feeling of his heart against his ear and the smell of his cologne filling his lungs. He was safe and whole with Klaus, his emotions weren’t something to run from. He could handle them as long as he was beside the other.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #help me fic #Klaus hargreeves #Viktor hargreeves #Viktor x klaus #Klaus x viktor #vlaus #harcest #tua #the Umbrella academy #tua s4 #tua fanfiction #tua season 4 #tw addiction #tw alcoholism

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slytherinshua · 5 months ago

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Hopefully they will get a bit of rest before the show! They definitely need it after the tour though, the schedule seemed brutal. I don't think I'd be able to cope if it was me lol. You'll have to let me know what they are like to watch live, I'm sure they'll be amazing!!

Play is such a comfort song! I have definitely cried listening to it as well haha, also haze. I really do love how they have a song for every mood lol.

I'm honestly so glad that I started to listen to them when I did. I found them at a time when I'm finally starting to think more positively about myself and seeing my own potential, like seeing that I can improve myself but also being kind to myself when I inevitably mess up. I think the messages in their songs are really comforting and make me feel seen. (Although I still remember the night when hug by seventeen absolutely broke me ahaha) Finding a talented violinist who plays music that I like has helped me want to become better in that sense too, although admittedly I have wanted to improve for a while, but Yechan has actually given me a goal which is nice. (I've started to try and learn boogie man and my respect for Yechan has went WAY up).

I have wanted to watch super and for ages!! I never knew where to find it though. I found out about it because I'd started to listen to Hoppipolla and then would watch compilation videos of clips from superband. It seems so fun! And the amount of talent would make me cry ahaha. I'll and Ha Hyunsang's voices in 1000x almost made me cry the first time I listened to it because they blended so beautifully. After getting into Lucy, I was kinda like, the bassist in the awesome cover of the Coldplay song (I can't remember what it's called lol) was Wonsang?! Yechan played viva la Vida?? With Ha Hyunsang?? That made me want to watch it more ahaha (although I don't know if I'll be emotionally prepared to see Sangyeop cry)

I'll let you know if I have any ideas haha, but definitely keep writing for Lucy! I really liked your style of writing and thought you wrote Sangyeop really well!

Enjoy the show!!!!

okay now that I’m back from the show lemme answer this 🥹🥹 I think they did get some rest beforehand they were rly energetic and excited :( moreso than me cause I was so sore it hurt to stand and I was struggling when sangyeop wanted us to jump sigh

You could rly just tell they went all out for their last show of the tour and it was just so special :( I was right by wonsang bcuz he’s my bias and I wanted to watch him up close so most of the videos I took are of him. Whenever I could see sangyeop or get noticed by sangyeop I would die internally idk smth abt him live is just way too attractive and charismatic and he needs to stop being so fucking fine istg??? But wonsang was so cute I was chilling standing by him <33

I swear I can cry to any lucy song cause even the happy ones have sad or relatable lyrics… the sad ones hit so fucking hard absolutely when I need to cry colourless is my go to…. Sangyeop ugh 👹👹👹👹 and when it’s a song like boogie man I just cry cause of how beautifully crafted it is cause I think abt how hard wonsang works on every song LMAO IM SO EMO KILL ME

I also feel like I found them at just the right time but like for the opposite reason. I was going through intense burnout and listening to stove while I worked on schoolwork was the only thing keeping me going :( (along w bambam ty husband <3)

I NEED TO REWATCH SUPERBAND IN FULL TBH CAUSE 😭😭 I went back to watch the lucy stages but I just need to experience the WHOLE thing again… anyway here’s the link to the google doc with the google drive eps for you <3333 AND YES ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME COVER!!!! Absolutely adored it sm I remember how everyone thought wonsang was selfish and trying to make himself stand out by only picking guitarists while he was the only bassist but then he got all 5 votes cause his arrangement was so beautiful and chilling and ethereal and I love him sm I always call him my lil genius :(

Dropping some photos from the concert hehe

#﹒inbox　𓈃　ⵌ

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theluckywizard · 1 year ago

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In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 39: The Trek

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Chapter 39: The Trek

Chapter Summary: Rose musters the Inquisition on the long trek to this mystery keep of Solas' and must find a way to cope with her grief, her injuries and the stresses of the journey.

CW: references to child death

Excerpt:

I peel away from the caravan with some excuse, lumbering through the snow in search of a place where I can sit with the pain and rest.

Where I can be Lady Rose instead of the Herald for a blessed moment.

I round the corner of a rocky outcropping in the pass and enter the only space shielded from the eyes of the many. The wind rips along the little canyon, but I linger stubbornly, claiming a moment for myself. The sun can’t warm me, try as it might, the wind stealing every last one of its efforts. I drop to the hardened snow and curl my knees up against my belly, hoping to conserve enough warmth to claim ten or fifteen minutes of solitude. I lean my head against my upper arm and shiver, tucking my face inside, but at least I’m alone.

A shadow falls over me and then its owner drops to their knees before me.

“Are you well?” Cullen asks, his brow creased with concern. He’s been avoiding me this last week since he snapped at me, or it feels like it at least, as he’s absorbed himself completely in the logistics of moving an entire army and the civilians that support it toward an unknown destination through a hostile mountain range. He shields his eyes as he faces the wind and then shifts around my left side to block it.

“Am I allowed to be otherwise?” I ask, a surge of tears threatening behind my eyes. His amber look scolds me.

“That doesn’t answer my question. But I can tell you aren’t. You’re freezing.”

“I just need a minute.”

“Let me give you my cloak,” he insists, starting to unfasten the clasp. I shake my head.

“You need it as much as I do.”

“Maker’s breath, Herald,” he mutters, his eyes softening even as he rebukes me with a shake of his head. He settles beside me and sweeps his cloak around me, folding me into some semblance of warmth, his arm scooped around my shoulders stiffly. My numb cheeks tingle as a flush attempts to break into them. Perhaps my now rapidly beating heart might generate a smidgen of heat.

“Have– have you been avoiding me?” he asks.

“What?” I reply, shocked by the question. “That’s ridiculous.” But I consider it for a moment and perhaps there’s some truth to it. I haven’t sought him out and anytime he’s been near I’ve assumed he’s been busy. “I just– haven’t seen you much,” I remark into my knees.

“There’s been a lot to manage,” he explains. “And I thought you were angry with me. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Right,” I say quietly, attempting to be understanding. He sighs heavily.

“I was an ass,” he admits and I have a mind to agree. I think back to the way he’d picked up my hand in the watchtower as the enemy approached and then I remember the mountain of things that had transpired since then. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you like that. You were only trying to help.” Our silence fills the minimal space between us again, but I break it to address what’s been gnawing at me since I escaped Haven.

“Tom is still in the Chantry?” I ask. He nods, his lips pressed together to fight a frown. There would be no pyre for him.

“Well. At least he’s in the Chantry.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his hand tightening around my shoulder like it could make it right in some small measure.

“I’m sorry too.”

“I can’t help feeling like I failed him. Like I failed everyone who perished. I should have–” We’re here again, but perhaps he won’t snap at me this time.

“–Stop,” I tell him. “We need to find a way to stop blaming ourselves for what the enemy did. Corypheus is responsible. The red templars. We defended admirably with the resources we had.” It’s a plucky sentiment but I share his guilt, memories of Tom tormenting me regularly throughout the day. When I’m feeling productive I try to funnel my anger and grief over Tom into plans to fight back. But mostly I’m busy excoriating myself for ever delivering the shelter in place order. When I picture his big toothed smile, I rummage in my potions back for his carving. Cullen looks down as I set it on my bent knee carefully.

“Oh,” says Cullen, like the little fox pierces his heart. I lean my head on his shoulder and allow the tears to fall. They practically freeze against my cheeks.

Start the fic here!

Tagging DAFF Crew:

#dragon age inquisition #cullen x trevelyan #in the shattering of things #cullen x female inquisitor #cullen rutherford #cullenmance #rose trevelyan #dragon age fanfiction #hawke x inquisitor #enter hawke #slow burn #eventual smut #they're almost to Skyhold!#maybe they'll kiss one day!#theluckywizard

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cryingtulips · 1 year ago

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This Place is Not a Home

Tommy arrives at Earth. It’s not a pleasant experience.

CW: Religious themes, religious trauma, implied emotional and verbal abuse

crossposted to ao3 || moodboard || Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 ||

~+~

Ch 2: What Is This Place?

The first month on Earth was one spent in excruciating pain.

Knives were dragging repeatedly into Tommy’s back where his wings were damaged, and Tommy refused to look at the bald patches and ruined feathers that made up his wings now. He didn’t want to confirm his new reality, the betrayal of trying to explain himself only for no one to listen, the pain as his wings—

He couldn’t deal with that loss, instead he spent his time trying to adapt to his new environment. For the first three weeks, Tommy spent his time hiding in an abandoned train cart. It was a perfect spot at the time. Secluded, and on the outskirts of the city, Tommy wasn’t that concerned about anyone finding him.

The problem was opening the fucking shitty doors. Weak and delirious with pain, Tommy was barely able to shove the rusted doors open enough for him to squeeze in.

The cart was dark and cold, and Tommy was sure he saw mold in the corners next to some strange liquid he didn’t want to know the identity of. It smelled horrible and there was nothing soft for him to lay on, but it was better than having nothing. Curling in the far corner, Tommy passed out for a week straight, small figure trembling as a fever slowly raked over him.

The second week he didn’t have the luxury to finish resting. He wasn’t in Paradise anymore, he didn’t have the blessings as an angel anymore– his wings serving a permanent reminder of what he lost. Hunger pains were constant, and his throat burned from dehydration. Despite the pain his body was in, Tommy knew he needed to get supplies for himself.

However, the first four days Tommy didn’t bother to move, body heavy with stones anchoring his body down. He was constantly sinking, everything in a fuzzy haze still.

He was tired, and alone. He felt lost on what to do, but he knew he had to push on. He refused to die from something like hunger, refused to go through Limbo. If he went through limbo…he heard the stories from the older angels. Heard the rumors and myths. Tommy wouldn’t survive it. He just wouldn’t.

On the fifth day, with shaking limbs and a heaviness dragging him down, he left the cart to see if anything was worth scavenging nearby. There was a lot of trash, and very little of value. In three days, he found no food except a half eaten bag of crisps and a water bottle filled only a quarter way.

Tommy was reluctant to leave the train cart, finding safety in the dark smelly walls and the way everything was isolated. But he knew, realistically, he would not survive out there. Tommy has never been able to cope alone, always having Tubbo beside him and to rely on. Even if he found a city, Tommy didn’t know if it would be possible for him to live there.

Ignoring the state of his wings, and the danger it would possess if someone found them, Tommy didn’t grow up human. He’s not familiar with the culture anymore–it’s been centuries since he was last alive, he wouldn’t understand the jokes or current values or even what’s considered right or wrong. Tommy was at sea adrift from course, and there was no land or ship within sight to rescue him home. He didn’t know what else he could possibly do besides wander the wilderness.

He wanted to pray and ask Lady Clara for help, for Her guidance and forgiveness. He wanted to go back home, even if it meant having to be reborn again as a new Light, even if it meant losing his wings. He wanted Tubbo most of all, his best friend and brother. Tubbo would know what to do, where to go. Tubbo knew everything, and was better at everything compared to Tommy.

Tommy wasn’t smart or clever, or at least not in a way the other angels wanted. He was bad at puzzles, pitiful with math, and couldn’t even tell left from right. Where Tommy lacked intellect, he excelled in intuitiveness. Always one to follow his instinct, he was quick to react and quicker to argue when something felt off. “The heart of a defender,” Tubbo would defend him. The others would counter with, “The temper of a demon.”

Tommy never understood what was wrong with having a strong sense of justice, after all the whole point of being an angel was to protect those who couldn’t. The Warden would just tell him he was too young to understand, that things were more complicated than that.

“Complicated, huh,” Tommy grumbled as he tripped on another tree root. “What bullshit.” There should be nothing complicated about it, in Tommy’s opinion. Everything he ever knew has always been black and white, bad and good, protecting the good is the very reason for angels and their existence.

It was a thin line between what they were fighting for, a thin line others have misstepped and tripped on. So why is it that only Tommy was punished for these mistakes? Why was he always getting the short end of the stick, always being punished and scolded while all the others got praises and affection? Heaven wasn’t fair, was not even close to it—but it was home, and Tommy always tried his best.

Shouldn’t that count for something? Shouldn’t that make up for Tommy’s flaws?

Complications, complications, complications.

What bullshit.

What fucking bullshit.

At least Earth was pretty, if you ignore the debris and rot that lingered in places. It was a complete one-sixty from the pristine perfection Paradise aimed for. It was wild and unforgiving and everything that screamed familiarity to Tommy. And in a way, that scared Tommy. That something so untamed, something so foreign, felt like home. Or as close to the idea that Paradise never accomplished for the blond.

He should’ve hated it, resented the planet for being the ensuing resting place of his divine body as he slowly starved and as his destroyed wings dragged him down and as every twinge of pain threatened to collapse his sense of awareness.

He was told that once he earned his forgiveness—once he admitted his sins against Lady Clara, Heaven would take him back. As black spots took over his vision from pushing his body too far, Tommy knew the chances of him even surviving the next month was low.

=+=

The first thing Tommy noticed with groggy eyelids was how cold Earth became once darkness shadowed the lands.

The land was still as Tmmy dusted himself off, wings fluttering as dead and weakened feathers drifted down. There was the brief sight of gold before Tommy started up at the sky, eyes scrunched up.

He didn't want to think about it, about his situation, about the state of his wings. Tommy didn't even want to look at the stars, for he knew that once he did, he would break down with thoughts of betrayal. He was fine, and maybe if he said it enough times, he would believe himself.

Tommy didn't think as he continued towards, body slow and mind sluggish, eyes blinking absently. He didn't process anything, not lack of songbird birds, or the stream beside him. He wasn't there, present in his body. But he knew he was tired, and he knew everything felt sore and his wings throbbed.

He had walked some distance when the trees faded into a clearing, the vague outline of a path turning into a dirt road. There was an empty fenced house, but Tommy didn't even stumble in its direction. Even in this…state, he knew that wouldn't work in his favor.

Instead, he headed towards a shed. It was an old one, brown paint starting to chip and warm orange acting as a lighthouse for Tommy. He was adrift at sea, and this shed was the rescue boat. It was decently sized, a few animals deep asleep, a few others flickering their ears at him but not bothering to look his way.

He headed inside the stall in the far back. He didn’t even bother to check if it was empty before collapsing in the clean bedding, body shivering at the cool breeze. He closed his eyes as he shifted his wings over himself, a pitiful attempt at blanketing himself under warmth with damaged wings. Not that he had any other choice.

Before he was dragged under the cover of sleep, there was a soft murmur beside him. Something heavy walked over him, and he was too tired to even shift away. He felt warmth as the thing shifted to lay behind him, warmth already seeping into him. He shifted closer, and sighed as slumber caressed him goodnight, comfort seeping into his body as crickets kept company throughout the night.

#mcytblr au fest #mcytblraufest23 #this place is not a home #dream smp #dsmp #c!tommy #dsmp tommy

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