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Flufftober 2024 - 29 Eddie Brock / Venom
Y/N had met Vee during a Halloween party.
A little intimidated by the crowd and not knowing anyone, she had stayed in her corner for a good part of it, until this giant with his incredible costume came to talk to her.
It would be a lie to say that she had not found him adorably charming, and she would have liked them to be more than friends, if he had not spent most of the time talking to her about his Eddie.
It was obvious that there was something strong and unique between Vee and this Eddie, even if he did not seem to appreciate him at his true value.
"He never agrees with me… He wants to control everything !" he had sobbed against her shoulder. "He says that I won't even be good at cleaning toilets."
"That's not nice. Maybe this relationship is not very healthy."
"But I love Eddie. He takes care of me and even though he's a stupid loser, he tries a lot. Maybe… Maybe I'm too hard on him."
"It's normal to have expectations from your partner. You need to sit down and communicate, to see what's wrong and find solutions."
"You're right, little morsel ! You're a good friend !"
Obviously very busy, Vee kept in touch with her by calling her almost every night and sending her messages, but never having time to see her.
He used Eddie's phone, while he slept. Before meeting her, Vee had never seen the point of having one, and he contacted her secretly because he found it funny to have a secret all to himself.
"But I'll tell him at some point, because we share everything. We're in symbiosis, we're one."
"That's cute. Do you think he'll be angry ?"
"No. Scared maybe."
"Oh." she wondered. "Is he the jealous type ? He'll be afraid that I'll steal you from him ?"
"I'd rather be afraid that he'll steal you from me, I think he'll love you a lot. And that's why he'll be afraid for you. He'll think I want to eat your brain."
Sometimes she didn't understand everything he said, but she found him funny and considered that he simply had a particular sense of humor.
But after several months of talking to him, he finally ended up running into him while a guy was trying to take her purse in an alley.
Vee jumped from a rooftop, growled at the thief, grabbing him with one hand, before biting his head off. Then he turned to Y/N, smiling.
"Eddie, she's my friend."
"Y/N ?" a voice that seemed to come from inside him asked. "Great, Vee, she's not going to freak out at all because you just killed someone. I already told you to go get some chickens if you were hungry."
"You never let me do anything ! He was mean ! He was attacking my Y/N !"
"Let me talk to her, okay ? So I don't traumatize her more than necessary."
In the end, Venom was an alien, and Eddie his host, a man not as horrible as she had imagined, simply trying to keep his symbiote from doing too much mischief so that they wouldn't be spotted by the government.
They fought often but they couldn't live without each other. Literally for Venom, even if they also loved each other too much to want to be apart.
As he had expected, the human had panicked a bit when he learned that he had a friend, that she didn't really know what he was, and that they were therefore putting her in danger just by talking to her. But Eddie had understood that she was important. He had felt it.
When Vee said that they shared everything, he was dead serious.
"I showed him a picture of you. He got an erection."
"Vee !" Eddie shouted, trying to silence the head floating next to his shoulder. "Shut up ! Those are not things to say ! Excuse him."
"Why ? I like Y/N, and you like her too, and she likes us. Her pheromones don't lie."
"Vee ! You're making everyone uncomfortable, stop."
"See ? He never agrees, he controls everything."
Y/N saw clearly, now understanding many things that had seemed a bit strange to her. She could have run away, but despite this surprising discovery, she really liked Vee, and Eddie seemed as charming as he was.
So she suggested that they spend the next Halloween, all together this time.
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“Meet the family”
Ghostbusters x reader
Warnings: illusions to suicide, reader is dead, strange mother daughter relationship, implied dysfunctional family
Egon has a very carefully planned out Monday, he has a rigid routine that few people he allows to disrupt.
First he wakes up and has his usual hearty breakfast of eggs and some kind of meat, unless he’s had Chinese takeout the night before, in which case he’ll eat the leftovers. Next he quizzes himself with some brain challenging puzzles to keep his brain functioning and active.
After that he’ll arrive at the ghostbusters headquarters at exacting 8:15AM, go on a few jobs, usually around three which will take him to 9PM. At that time he will head down to his lab, do a few experiments before fruitlessly trying to communicate with your spiritual being.
Yes, Egon Spengler rarely let anyone disrupt his perfectly planned out Monday morning routine.
But this strange woman waiting outside ghostbusters headquarters certainly managed to disrupt it, especially when she claimed to be your mother.
———————————————————————-
Egon wasn’t sure what to make of your mother as he offered her a seat at the desk.
She didn’t look like you, from the rare photo he found of you or your ghostly apparition. While your mother was a stubby little woman with a pinched sour expression and a penchant for scowling, your face was like a fox’s with how your smile perked up on your lips and your eyes held a unique light to them.
“Landlord said her boyfriend picked up her stuff” your mother said with a grim look as she pulled out one of her cigarettes, not the elegant kind that most ladies these days used, but the musky smelling ones that usually accompanied established gentlemen in the drawing rooms of their expensive homes “said you took all of it home”
“Yes ma’am” Egon says with a cautious nod as he tried to analyse how this conversation would go “I didn’t realise her family wanted it”
“So you assumed” your mother said quickly with a slight scoff “you couldn’t have called first?”
Egon is taken aback by the woman’s words as his eyes narrowed, wondering what this woman’s intentions were.
“With all due respect ma’am” Egon started as your mother smoked her cigarette “her things had been in storage for well over a month, I assumed she didn’t have any family”
The woman stilled slightly before puffing out smoke with an almost empty expression. This wasn’t a woman who looked like she was wracked with grief, nor did she look like she was happy with the circumstances. The woman just looked vague, with no discernible emotion behind her well put together look and her unmoving mountain of makeup purposely put on to hide the effects that aging had on her body.
“She had something of mine within her belongings, a small locket that was my mothers” your mother spoke stiffly with a tense look as she smoked “I’d hoped she’d give it to her children one day, though I don’t suppose that’s happening anymore”
The brief opening of a vulnerable side was shown like a fast moving slideshow, and Egon knew he’d have to work fast to get anything more out of her.
“Was she your only child?” Egon asked calmly, an analysing look in his eyes as he tried to spot weakness
“Her father had a few more somewhere along the line, but she was the only one in wedlock” the woman sniffed in an almost disgusted manner “rightly so that she was the best one out of the bunch”
“I see” Egon says with a taken aback expression, he’s about to speak again but he’s quickly cut off
“Can you bring her stuff out here” the woman asks almost impatiently “I want to find my locket”
Egon nods with a sigh, this woman wouldn’t get him anywhere in finding out more about you. All she was after was her own little material items.
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The woman shuffled through the boxes that Egon had brought out, hands working almost softly as she grazed them over your various items.
Egon had expected her to treat your items roughly in an attempt to salvage her lost locket, but the way your mother went through your things was almost ritualistic.
She skimmed her fingers over the letters of each of your various awards, reading each one slowly and carefully as if recreating the memory within her mind.
“What was she like?” Egon asked to cut through the tense silence, breaking your mother out her trance as she let go of your awards “when she was younger”
Your mother lets herself think for a moment, almost having to use a considerable amount of effort into making sure she phrased it right
“She was a fidgety child, never stayed in one place for too long” the woman speaks in a hushed tone “her teachers said it was due to her being unchallenged for her intellectual level, that everyday living bored her”
Egon nods thoughtfully as the woman speaks, looking through the various boxes for her locket. Taking in as much information as possible
“She excelled in everything she did, with some pushing from her father and I” the woman explains with a melancholy look “she had the same problem as me really”
“What’s that?” Egon asks curiously as he helped the woman search
“She was born knowing too much” the woman says with a heavy sigh “ignorance can help people escape the dreary aspects of life, she wasn’t able to do that so she’d cause trouble instead”
In that moment, realisation dawned upon Egon. All your mischievous actions and your games weren’t out of malice but out of boredom, at least before them trapping you it was.
You were intellectually stuck in life and in death with no real challenges to cure your eternal boredom, that’s why the ghostbusters attention had been such a respite for you.
And they had punished you for it the moment you had made a mistake.
“I heard from the landlord that she died quickly” your mother spoke quietly as she held onto a prize ribbon for a highschool chess tournament “she was always in such a rush to reach the next goal”
There was a considerable silence that hung heavy in the air as Egon tried to digest her words, to understand them.
The silence ended as the woman’s fake nails tapped against the metal of the newly retrieved locket that laid in her hands, the fine metal work and the small encrusted jewel showing Its extraordinary value.
The woman clutched the locket close to her heart before placing it around her neck, putting it in the same position as you wore it in so many of your photos.
“I brought something” the woman said almost hesitantly as her hand disappeared into her purse before pulling out a small, old stuffed bunny toy “I found it in her old room, I wanted to give it to her but I’m not sure where her remains are”
Egon inspected the bunny toy in his hands and looked at the pure white fur as if it was another piece of the puzzle slotting itself together
“She’s had since she was a baby, it was the only thing that calmed her down from crying” the woman said with a far away look in her eyes “please make sure it’s put with her grave”
“I will” Egon says with a sympathetic look and a quick nod
The woman gets up to take her leave, leaving behind the rest of your belongings. She turns to look at Egon one more time as her mouth opens hesitantly
“My daughter was brilliant in every way” she admits quietly “I think that’s what drove her too it in the end”
And with that the woman left Egon alone with thousands of thoughts swimming in his head.
———————————————————————
You had trashed his lab again that evening, out of anger.
You had seen your mother enter the building but the cowardly part of you that was still human refused to go into the room where she talked with Egon.
Instead all of your resentment was taken out on egons lab equipment, at least the stuff he hadn’t moved out of it to avoid your wrath.
Egon only sighed when he saw your mess, knowing you were in the room only by the temperature drop alone.
Usually he would fit a scolding into his tight fit schedule, but not tonight.
You observed him and his distracted state before watching as he placed something on the slab in the middle of his lab.
Your eyes zero in on the bunny and a flurry of emotions spin around your head like a tornado and you swore that if you’d had a heart still it would be beating out of your chest.
Egon observed motionlessly as your translucent figure became visible and slowly clutched the bunny toy, similar to how your mother had with the locket.
Egon spun around and walked out the room, deciding to give you some well earned privacy. He decided it was time he looked through the rest of your things
Time to figure out exactly who the little ghost the ghostbusters had caught was.
#ghostbusters 1984#ghostbusters x fem reader#ghostbusters x reader#ghost reader#ghostbusters#ghost#winston zeddemore x reader#winston zeddemore#raymond stantz#raymond stantz x reader#egon spengler x reader#egon spengler#peter venkman#peter venkman x reader#fanfic
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Bloodborne is seriously the most beautiful game of all time i think about this every single time i replay it but genuinely. Just exploring yharnam and staring in awe at how gorgeous everything is, its never about graphics, bloodborne has a noticeable stylization i think in a way even stronger than other fromsoft games, and the use of lighting and color palettes is just so good it makes me want to Be there. The game is already so stunning as it is ingame but i think having access to the map viewer on my own to the side made me appreciate it even more i love seeing the way everything is constructed and put together with just the flat textures before applying any engines and even as flat surfaces you can just feel the cohesion in the backgrounds, even textureless stripped of everything that makes it "beautiful" it still feels so unique and already gets the vibe across and that explains how the game feels the way it does visually, which is something i think a lot of current gen "high fidelity" games struggle with. Hard to explain what I mean but I feel it. Also i love the slight like chromatic aberration effect bb has on the edges of the screen it adds such a nice touch to the atmosphere honestly. Sighs dreamily
#like every single location is so unique and has its own style separate from each other#but in a way thats really cohesive and still makes it feel like part of the same thing#and theyre all so beautiful in their own way#ppl dunk on the forbidden woods and nightmare frontier a lot for what i think are#just gameplay reasons but their blind hatred of those areas extends to the way theyre often excluded when#people talk about all the 'prettiest areas' and whatnot. but i think they deserve the love just as much as anywhere else#when youre not panic running through it the woods are really beautiful and well crafted#its all so skillfully put together to give exactly the atmosphere it needed#theres so many parts of it that feel iconic to me or at least could be#and the nightmare frontier i think genuinely has some of the most stunning environment designs#that were introduced by it later reused in the hunters nightmare. so it should#have its own little pedestal as The OG i think. like all the spirals and etchings that feel like#a naturally occurring phenomenon but also does not look like one. you know what im talking about?#and the strangely bright sky and fog in the distance... so so good#i have paragraphs upon paragraphs to say about each area obv but these two feel so underrated#do the fucked up graves in the woods mean nothig to you... does the little cave you spawn in in the frontier mean nothing to you...
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re: the music rant I tagged you in I am so sorry for tagging you in my double-dose caffeine fueled haterism explosion post. truly was off the shits and did not realize how much random garbage talking points I was ready to spill on the first person to ask
but i love haterism…..
#truly i really don’t care if ppl like those artists. they do so for good reason#but it’s just impossible to see it as like. particularly noteworthy and countercultural or anything anymore?#like obv it’ll never be on the same mainstream level of like taylor swift or w/e#but as far as being ‘weird’ or ‘fringe’ it’s like. safe weird. safe fringe#mainstream weird or mainstream fringe to use an oxymoron#there’s nothing wrong with enjoying something with a large community that makes you feel something#but it just isn’t particularly striking as far as making a statement about how unique you are#not that you need to be unique to be cool#but i think a lot of people truly do see it as a thing that makes them special or even superior#it’s not harmful at all just a little silly#and truly when every young neurodivergent well-off internet dweller is doing it. well it’s not totally weird is it#safe and sanitized weirdness#either that or to get back to the point if it is true weirdness then it’s like yeah are you sure this goes on that character playlist LOL#maybe the other bigger threat is when stuff is genuinely good and raw and unique and strange#art that’s screaming something out#and it gets watered down into something incredibly generic#like this lament about the singer’s very real life is like ‘woagh this is just like these two fictional white men who have never met’#less ‘morally wrong’ and more ‘hardcore cringe at best and in poor taste at worst’#or like. what if it is an EXTREMELY specific situation genuinely#why is it on every playlist 🤔#the answer is bc it goes hard of course so who am i to say they’re wrong for having fun#but behind the scenes in secret i’ll be laughing sinisterly#like everybody in the world thinks Their Artist is the most freakish unique and special artist. including swifties#fact of the matter there’s always something weirder. even the stuff i listen to i am well aware could be so much freakier#is there really any point in making it a competition of how weird you are#just listen to what appeals to you and stop acting like you’re the main character idk#asks#dj-of-the-coven#ok i’m done now. hope none of this sounded too bitter and judgmental
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combining all my flags and making a copia pfp with them. i’m insane.
#i say that as if this is a unique and strange thing to do. i know it’s not lol#i always love when i find a character and i’m just like aaaaaaand he’s just like me#and that character can do nothing about except morph into what i want them to be in my head pffffrrr#papa emeritus iv#the band ghost#all the visible white lines…. graphic design is my passion
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you're assuming a lot about binary trans people, and if anything it makes me think that our understandings of our genders aren't actually that different? Not every binary trans person wants to pass as a cis person. I don't want to pass as a cis woman, I want people to understand me for what I am, a collection of internal beliefs and thoughts that I've constructed an identity with. It sounds like we both have created identities for ourselves! If you think that non binary people are the only people capable of creating their own identities and striving to be seen as them, that's on you
im gonna try one more time. i cant really tell if youre being sarcastic or not so im gonna assume youre being genuine when you say you think we have similar understandings of gender. but to me it sounds like you are deliberately ignoring the Actual Words i am saying.
we need words to describe our experiences, both different and common ones. those words may be in themselves faulty or somewhat inaccurate, but they are what we have to discuss important concepts, and they function well enough if they have a generally agreed-upon meaning. right?
so. the dominant culture of the imperial core is one of strictly binary sex. anything that breaks this, is deviant of the "rules of nature", to this dominant culture. right?
so then we call people who are NOT of this binary system multiple different things depending on cultural context and personal identity and personal circumstance. right?
'nonbinary' is only one of those words. to each individual it may mean any one of hundreds upon thousands of different things. everyone has their own personal identity, and while we may use the same word to describe said identity, no two people will have the same definition.
this is true of 'manhood' and 'womanhood' as well. every individual, cis trans both neither intersex perisex and so on and so forth, every single one of them has different PERSONAL interpretations of these words and the concepts they are meant to describe.
but 'woman' has to mean something in order to function as a real concept. it has to have some semblance of shared meaning, shared experience, shared conceptual feeling and vibe, for it to work within the imperial core as a means of systemic control and oppression, for it to work as a communicable identity, and for it to function as a word in a language.
in the same vein of thought, 'binary' is a word we are using to describe someone whose gender, in some way, shape, or form, fits into the schema of 'man and woman'. your internal definition of your own gender does not actually matter very much to other people who do not know it exists.
for me, it matters that i am percieved as a binary gender no matter what i do. it matters, and hurts, a lot. and for some people, it matters and hurts less. for some people, it matters and hurts not at all.
whether you consider yourself binary or not is entirely up to you and how you interpret your own navigation of the world. its very strange to act as if im saying anything otherwise. YOU defined YOURSELF as binary in your responding to me. you said you were also agender, so, like i said in my prev tags, i dont think youre the target audience. but the way youre reacting, it seems you think you are. i am also going to reiterate that 'binary' is not a bad thing to be - binary trans people and for that matter, binary cis people, are not my enemies. but i deserve to have the language to talk about my experiences as they compare to binary people. that's all it is.
#if we cant reach a resolution here i think itd be best if we block and go our separate ways also lol#i also think its strange to assert that theres no such thing as a binary trans person bc that sort of fundamentally spits in the face of ge#derqueer and nonbinary trans identities imo?#there are certainly people who identify as binary to whatever degree that they do#nonbinary identities arent 'complex inner gender feelings' they are quite literally genders that DO NOT FIT WITHIN THE MAN/WOMAN SCHEMA THA#S IMPOSED ON US#which again this is sorta what i was talking abt in the original post#i cant talk about things that are unique to or uniquely affected by my gender as a not-binary gender without binary (or again 'binary-adjac#nt') people being insulted that i would dare try to talk about exorsexism as it affects nonbinary people#which is exactly why i need to use the word binary#its genuinely really frustrating how every time ive tried ive met the same resistance#the first person i met who didnt was in fact a binary trans man lmfao#and we talked abt the differences and similarities between being a gnc man and having 'pansy' be your desired presentation and what my desi#es were presentation wise. that i couldnt be an effeminate man or a masc woman bc either of those are still recognized as men and women#and i really dont understand why more binary trans people dont make that same effort to meet me and talk w me abt these different ways we a#e treated by the patriarchy#and instead essentially say that nonbinary identity doesnt actually really exist bc Everyone is nonbinary/No One is binary#like thats kinda shitty
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consider
to be clear, i'm not saying it's impossible for someone to make a full recovery from an injury like that but i'm like. well if you're gonna do that. make it count dude
#psy's no punctuation posts#aa tag#Amara is a very interesting character to me and i wanna explore her cause she's just so damn STRANGE#and she has a lot of unique potential#also re: the spiritual power with Nahyuta: i actually do think he has some spiritual powers and it's just reticent/hasn't come out yet#he isn't a man anyways but whenever i say Nahyuta is a man i mean functionally in the canon story#but personally i think he has a small pool of power. it isn't to the insane level Amara has and it isn't to Rayfa's level but it's there#and was never explored or acknowledged bcs he grew up never knowing it was there or having the outlets to explore it#but like. clearly he has powers right. like canonically.#not /spiritual/ powers but i think yes he could have spiritual powers#it'd be awkward for him to acknowledge now because only women are supposed to have the powers and he transitioned a while ago lol#he's not a woman. but he sure does have the power#also the fact only women can do it is interesting. why. what about women causes it. could trans women also have the power.#can people assigned female at birth who transition (like nahyuta) have it. many such things to consider#it has weird gender implications once you get trans characters involved and idk the answer sincerely KRKFJN
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my masks
hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.
im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great.
lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is.
unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.
the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.
ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield
anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum
when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned.
later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.
HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.
anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’.
when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.
one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’
so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?
my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)
from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept.
the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.
eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.
lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.
this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.
the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.
a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual.
fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist
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trapped
READ THE FULL FIC HERE
pairing: hotel owner!heeseung x reader
genre: reincarnation au, supernatural themes, horror
synopsis: a road trip with your parents gone wrong lands you at a mysterious mansion in the middle of nowhere. after it turns out to be a hotel, your parents decide to stop over. everything about this place screams deja vu to you which is strange because you've never even heard about it. the hotel was not the only weird thing though, its handsome yet mysterious owner who looked like he stepped out of the 1920s is way too enthusiastic about your stay. every encounter with him leaves you feeling weirded out yet enamoured. but he is not who you think he seems to be. he will be the one to decide the duration of your stay here and it looks like it will not be ending anytime soon.
warnings: horror themes, suggestive content, slight yandere themes, manipulation, possessive!hee, more to be added!
note: let's ignore the fact that i have so many reports and essays to write for school rn !!!! because i HAD to release smth for halloween. this should be out by next weekkk
word count: 24.2k
comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist
ᨓ READ THE TEASER BELOW
heeseung’s words seemed to echo in the cavernous dining hall, each syllable hanging in the air like a weight pressing down on your chest.
you shifted in your seat, suddenly aware of how isolated you were from everyone else. your parents were somewhere outside, wandering the sprawling gardens with sunoo, oblivious to the tension brewing in this room. and you were here—alone with heeseung, who was studying you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.
he leaned back in his chair, a slow, deliberate movement, his eyes never leaving yours. “this mansion has a long history,” he began, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “it’s been standing for centuries, long before this area became what it is now.”
you swallowed, trying to keep your unease from showing. “centuries? that’s… impressive.”
heeseung nodded, his fingers tracing the edge of his plate in a casual, almost absent-minded way. “impressive, yes. but also… haunted by its past.” his eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t quite place. “you see, many who come here find themselves drawn in by the allure of the unknown. they come seeking something different, something unique. and often, they find more than they bargained for.”
you felt a chill run down your spine. the way he spoke—so calm, so composed—made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. it was as if he was telling you a story he had told many times before, one with a punchline you wouldn’t like.
“what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice quiet but firm. you didn’t want to seem rattled, even though you were starting to feel like the walls were closing in around you.
heeseung’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “let’s just say this mansion has a way of revealing things… about the people who stay here. things they may not even realize about themselves.”
your pulse quickened. “that sounds a little ominous.”
heeseung chuckled, the sound soft and unsettling. “it’s not meant to be. it’s just… the nature of this place. it has a way of bringing the truth to the surface. you’ll see, in time.”
you didn’t like the way he said that, as if you were going to be here long enough for the mansion to work its mysterious magic on you. you were only supposed to stay until the car was fixed, and then you and your family would be gone. the thought of staying here any longer than necessary made your stomach churn.
“i don’t think we’ll be here long enough for that,” you said, forcing a small smile.
heeseung’s eyes flashed with something—disappointment? amusement? it was hard to tell. “you never know,” he said quietly, his gaze intense. “sometimes, plans change.”
you glanced away, focusing on your barely touched plate. the food that had once looked so appealing now seemed like a burden, something you had no appetite for. you just wanted this conversation to end, to find your parents and get out of this place as soon as possible.
as if sensing your discomfort, heeseung leaned back again, his demeanor shifting ever so slightly. “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, though there was a glint in his eyes that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. “it’s just that… guests here tend to stay longer than they anticipate. this place has a way of… captivating people.”
the word captivating sounded too much like trapping for your liking.
before you could respond, the door to the dining hall creaked open, and you breathed a silent sigh of relief as your parents entered, laughing and chatting with sunoo, who was still wearing his unsettlingly bright smile. their carefree demeanor was such a stark contrast to the tension you’d been feeling that it almost made you dizzy.
“sweetie, you should see the gardens!” your mom exclaimed as she approached the table, oblivious to the undercurrent of unease between you and heeseung. “they’re absolutely gorgeous. i’ve never seen anything like it.”
your dad nodded in agreement, beaming. “it’s like something out of a storybook.”
you forced a smile, trying to match their enthusiasm. “that’s great. i’m glad you had fun.”
sunoo’s eyes flicked to heeseung for a brief moment, something unspoken passing between them, and then he turned his bright gaze back to your family. “i’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to explore the rest of the estate before you leave.”
you stiffened at his words, catching the subtle implication. you weren’t leaving any time soon.
heeseung stood then, smoothing down the front of his suit, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat too long before he addressed your parents. “i’ve arranged for the mechanic to give me an update on the car shortly. in the meantime, please, make yourselves comfortable. feel free to explore the mansion further if you’d like.”
your parents seemed delighted by the prospect, but you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this place was trying to keep you here, that every step you took deeper into the mansion only tangled you further in its web.
heeseung’s gaze slid back to you, his smile as charming and unsettling as ever. “i’ll make sure everything is taken care of. don’t worry.”
but worry was all you could feel as your family began to follow sunoo out of the dining hall, leaving you to trail behind, your thoughts spinning. as you exited the room, you couldn’t help but glance back at heeseung, who stood by the door, watching you with that same piercing gaze.
there was something about the way he looked at you—something that made you feel like a fly caught in a spider’s web.
and you weren't sure if you could escape.
𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr
˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱
#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen fics#halloween 2024#enhypen x reader#heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines#heeseung fics#heeseung oneshots#kpop fics#enhypen horror au#heeseung horror#enhypen horror#horror fics
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Yandere!Shapeshifter x Reader
Featuring a clueless Reader and the grotesque "dog" she found in a cursed forest, yet this time they're joined by a strange man. Where did he come from, and why does the dog run away whenever he comes by? Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, mildly NSFW [Part 1] | [More Monsters]
You couldn't help but stare a little at the stranger who so persistently knocked on your door. His eyes had a peculiar color - one similar to the little dog who followed you home from your hiking trip. You bit your tongue from saying such nonsense, worrying it might be taken as an insult. He extended his long, bony fingers and lowered a wallet in your open palms. "You must've dropped this somewhere", he remarked with feigned worry. "I used the address on your ID card."
Whatever initial suspicion weighed on your shoulders had instantly dispersed into thin air. You thanked the man profusely, and invited him in for a drink. "Careful with my dog, he's-" you begun warning, but the quadruped creature was nowhere to be seen. Mysterious. You led the benevolent soul into your living room with a smile.
One thing led to another, and the polite meetings for coffee turned into steamy nights in the retreat of your bedroom. Around the same time you stopped having your bizarre wet dreams involving some deformed monstrosity ramming into you. Perhaps a loving partner was all you needed. To your great shock - and delight - the stranger never abandoned you the morning after, unlike all the previous flirts. This is the one, you told yourself. For once, you had company. You had consistency.
Unfortunately, your friends don't agree with you. Your dreamy retellings are met with grimaces and horrified shivers. "He has such an unique appearance", you'll argue. "It's uncanny valley", your friends will counter, embracing themselves in a fearful, shielding manner. They claim he must be yet another curse brought by the damned devil of a hound you keep as a pet.
Every discussion regarding your beloved will turn into a back and forth. "The voice is inhuman. A broken record, as if he's copying the rest of us, with jarring interruptions and words randomly patched together!" You wave your hand in dismissal. "He's just a little shy", you say with a faint blush. You've always had a soft spot for introverts. "He's insane! Last time someone complimented your outfit, he begun chanting at the dinner table!" You puff out a chuckle. "He must be religious, or something", you defend him ardently. No one dares to mention the flickering lights, or the fact that the targeted friend never left the confines of their room after that encounter.
You will admit one thing: your dog seems to avoid this man like the plague. You've never seen the two of them together in a room. Could your friends be right? They do say dogs can sniff out bad people. You shake your head. It can't be. You get out of bed, rub your eyes, and check the time: 2am. The space next to you is empty, sheets ruffled aside. Out of curiosity, you head outside the room and follow the faint light in the kitchen. The stranger stands before the fridge, face smudged red and fingers stained and glossy. He's holding what seems to be a half-chewed heart, probably taken out of the raw organs bag you keep for your dog. "Heh. I see you like late snacking, too", you joke, dragging out a chair. "Pass me the cheese, will ya? But...maybe wash your hands first."
This isn't right. Sure, he's fucking you better than anyone else ever did, and you find his mysterious aura endearing. Yet you can't help the guilt eating at your innards, knowing that your dog cannot coexist with this man. Something has to be done, so you call out your partner and pat the sofa you're sitting on. "We must talk", you tell him. "What might be troubling you", he inquires quietly, frozen in the doorframe. "I'm afraid my pet comes before anything else", you confess. "And he seems to be scared of you...I'm not sure our current situation is sustainable." Ah. That's what it was. The man lets out a whistled laugh, as if remembering something.
His bones begin to break in wet, fluid succession, as coarse fur takes over his skin. He lowers himself to his fours, snout wide open in a sharp, toothy grin. "You mean this dog, yes?"
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#horror#monster x reader#monster romance#monster boyfriend#terato#teratophillia#monster fucker
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they dont know about us | c.hansol
pairing : vernon x reader
WHAT ! - being the only person able to read vernon is a strange concept to others, i guess your relationship is unique (in which, your the only person able to read vernons expressions
warnings : kisses, petnames, mentions of the other svt members, mention of dead people, slight skin ship, not proof read, established relationship au
-
WHEN HE HAS A ATTIUDE
seungkwan, vernon, and you were sitting in the middle of seungkwans living room playing uno. things were getting heated since vernon gave you 3 plus 4 uno cards in a row. so in return to help you out, seungkwan gave you a swap card to swap his stack with yours so you could win
“hey, youre suppose to give the stack to me if your gonna place it down” vernon said, to anyone else his tone would be monotone and blank, but to you, you could hear the slight disappointment in his tactic of teaming up on you.
“my house, my rules” seungkwan replied rolled his eyes at vernon protest as he put down a plus 4 card on vernon. vernons mouth slightly opened in shock, after a few seconds of processing he looked over at you.
to the normal eye this wouldve been a man looking over at someone, but to you this was vernons attitude come in. you could read him perfectly, being able to read anything his face shows from visibly to hidden. no matter how he presents his emotions it seems like you could always tell what hes feeling
“dont give me that look just because you wanted me to lose” you yelled slightly, he laughed and shook his head knowing he was caught
“what look?” seungkwan looked up
“you didnt see the reaction on his face after you put down the plus 4?”
“yeah the face of a dead person, he didnt make a face it was just…blank”
“yeah i didnt make a face” vernon teased making you groan
“he did make a face! he was giving me attitude” you defended yourself to a lost seungkwan and a happy vernon
“you both are so weird”
-
WHEN HES SAD
“i dont know where it could be” vernon ran his hand through his hair as he sat down on the couch frustrated, right now, he thinks he has his eyebrows furrowed, a pout and a slight redness to his cheek. but in reality hes just blanked out. like a mannequin, just sitting there with a blank stare
“its fine you could always buy another” dino said sitting on the floor eating off the coffee table in front of vernon.
vernon sighed as he slumped himself into the couch even more. “yn bought it for me, i cant replace it”
“i mean they could always buy you another one”
“but its not the same”
just then you walked in through the door saying hi to dino and vernon. as your eyes drifted to vernon you see him slumped on the couch with a very (in your eyes) big pout on his face. sitting right next to him you caressed his cheek “whats wrong? whats with the look on your face?”
“what look?” dino said as he chewed his food puzzled
“you dont see the big pout on vernons face?” you turned to dino
“no”
“its right there” you pointed at vernons lips where the pout evidently laid
“i think youre seeing things yn”
-
WHEN HES SCARED
vernon had his arm around your shoulder as the movie wrapped up. you could feel the gentle grip he had that tighted at times a jump scare came up.
when the movie finally ended, vernon got up and gave you a hand to help you up, as you held his hand you looked over and saw his scared face, automatically you busted out laughing making dokyeom and joshuw look over at you two
“whats so funny?” dokyeom asked smiling in amusement as he put a piece of popcorn in his mouth
“look at vernons face, hes so scared” you laughed
dokyeom moved his head to look at vernons face and furrowed his eyebrows while looking over at joshua, joshua was just as confused raising his eyebrow.
“yn, vernon does not look scared at all” joshua chuckled observing vernons expression closer
“what do you mean? you dont see his lips quivering?” now it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows
“i think thats your eyes moving really fast…i dont think its his lips” joshua said making dokyeom laugh
-
WHEN HES IN LOVE
all the members sat around the dinner table with their partners at the house party you and vernon were hosting. vernons finger caressed your thigh in a comforting way letting you know he was there. you laid your hand ontop of vernons fingers and whispered to him
“lets go start on the dishes as they talk”
he nods and lets you get up first before following you to the kitchen. the kitchen gave a view of the dining room to you both as well to everyone else. he washed dishes as you dried them, but something about vernon doing dishes in a basic t shirt with his hair down was doing something to you. you stared at him with your pupils dilated as he looked at you with his brown eyes. at this point vernon probably wss scrubbing the same spot 50 times but that was the least of his priorities
“vernon ah, yns looking at you with love and youre looking at her as if she crashed your car” hoshi joked making you and vernon look away
quick to defend him you spoke up
“what do you mean? he was looking at me with love?”
“that isnt love, thats him turning you into stone” scoups laughed
“i swear you guys have to be able to see the expression on his face”
looking around you see no one siding with you
“is vernon gaslighting you?” jeonghan questioned
looking back over at vernon, he was already staring at you just as confused, he shrugged his shoulders and you both continued washing the dishes.
-
WHEN HES VULNERABLE
“i dont get it, why cant they see the emotions on your face like i do?” you complained slightly annoyed as you laid on his chest
vernon hummed as his fingers ran through your hair. “i dunno
but i kinda like it”
“you do?”
“yeah” he replied simply
“it reminds me that youre special to me, that we have a special relationship. youre the only one who can read my emotions, the others cant and dont understand me like you do.
they dont know about us,
i like that its your special superpower
i dont want them to be able to read me like you can
just a me and you thing”
as you listened to his words you looked up at him and could see it in his face that he meant every word. how he cherished each special interaction you both had that no one else understood. because he liked being different, he liked how no one could get him, but he liked it even more how you were the only one who could
so maybe his friends cant read his emotions on his face and maybe they find him weird , but you can and dont
and thats all that matters to him
#serejae#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen#svt fluff#svt angst#svt#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#seventeen vernon#svt vernon#vernon x reader#chwe vernon x reader#chwe hansol x reader#hansol x reader#vernon fluff#vernon angst#chwe vernon#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop#Spotify
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One of my pet peeve misinterpretations of Les Mis— which I see in both adaptations, analysis, and fandom— is that “the criminal Justice system’s mistreatment of Valjean was wrong because Valjean was innocent. He was not like other criminals, he was a special exception, a good person who was arrested by mistake.”
The implication is that if Jean Valjean were not innocent, if he were a “real criminal,” the abuse and persecution would have been justified.
One example of this is in the 1935 American Les Mis adaptation. The judge who sentences Valjean proudly says that he is “guilty until proven innocent”— implying that the reason he was arrested was because 19th century France was savage and uncivilized in a way that the very wonderful fair equal society of 1935 America was not, and that Valjean would never have been declared guilty in a country with a proper court system. (Never mind that people are still given inhumanly long sentences for petty crimes even in 2024 America.)
Essentially, rather than analyze the way Les Mis criticizes the cruelty/inhumanity of prison,…..the novel gets framed as a simple story of mistaken identity. Jean Valjean is framed as a good person who is “falsely accused” of being a criminal, when in reality he never actually did a crime, or he “expiated” it, and should be considered wholly innocent ……Unlike Those Other Dirty Criminals Who Deserve What They Get.
This really stands out to me because of one of the things that separates Jean Valjean from Thenardier/Javert is is his unwillingness to betray other people from his class in order to save himself. He refuses to say “I’m not like other criminals” and to claim that he is a unique exception. He is tempted to do it— ex, when he briefly tries to convince himself that his life is worth more than Champmathieu’s, and that his life of theft and poverty isn’t as valuable as his own— but he recognizes how cruel and wrong the idea is. He is an ordinary John Doe that happened to be given a life changing act of grace and mercy; he’s not an innocent angel who was sent to the galleys by mistake.
As a character, Jean Valjean is marked by his refusal to declare himself the “deserving poor” and the others as “undeserving” criminals, so it’s strange that take rears its head so often.
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"You Don't Own Me."
pairing : Alastor x overlord!reader
summary : A new overlord has came to play in Hell, you. Alastor took notice in how many souls you've accrued in such a short time. He has to let you know where you stood in the overlord hierarchy, however things don't go the way he originally planned.
warnings : slight blood play ig? Idk. Author trying to edge the reader :)) not proofread
word count : 900
You hadn't been in Hell for long but it felt as if you belonged. It didn't take long before you started catching the hearts of the sinners. A lot happily giving up their souls to simply breathe the same sulfuric air as you. The way you used these souls was unique. You weren't mean or evil in anyway shape or form. In fact, you were often seen as an inspiration.
The overlords in Pentagram City were a different story. None of them liked the way you shot up the hierarchy without even trying. Instilling fear was what got them where they were at and they weren't going to give up their seat to a goody-two-shoes like you. Your methods interested one overlord in particular, Alastor. Despite literally being stuck in the past, he was quite the open-minded demon.
He didn't know whether or not to applaud you or challenge you. Your talent would be useful. He wanted you for himself. And for years he fought to claim your soul and make a deal. And not once out of the hundreds of proposals did he convince you it was a good idea. The two of you slowly started to develop a strange relationship. Nothing romantic but there was definitely tension. While he didn't own your soul, you were often in each other's company.
It was like mutualistic relationship. He staved off the overly pushy overlords constantly offering you a job; jobs that would obviously make you uncomfortable. In turn, you offered your assistance in a lot of his business. It came with pros and cons like any other agreement. He was extremely possessive of you. You were treated like precious property. You had enough. There was no reason for this behavior. Typically it didn't bother you, but something snapped.
"Alastor. You do not own my soul. I'm not property that you can toy with. I should be allowed to go wherever I please." You crossed your arms in frustration hearing him explain why he didn't want you in the Vees territory.
"Darling, you know I hold you with upmost respect. It's got nothing to do with you being property. I understand you are immune to Vox's hypnosis spell. It's not him I'm worried about. My worry is of Vox's plaything, Valentino." He gripped your wrist, leaning ever so slightly to place a kiss on your knuckles. "Understand that you are a sight to behold in the entirety of Hell. Valentino, is not honorable in his job as I, my dear. Without the proper protection, you might as well be an easy target." His breath ghosted your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
It's like he forgot who you were, what you were capable of. It was time to show him how that talent of yours has affected him over time. And trust when you say, it did.
"Oh Alastor, I think you forget as to how I became an overlord in the first place. The feminine charm that you oh so fear backfiring on me is why you have been by my side after all these years." You wrapped your fingers around his bow tie, pulling him down to your level. An enchanting smile creeping up on your face as Alastor's expression glitched out from the bold action. The other hand running through his hair making him let out a soft purr. His eyes focused on yours trying to determine your next move before you could decide.
To his surprise, you gently pressed your lips against his. His head was dizzy with confusion and guilty enjoyment. Your lips trailed down his neck, biting down a bit. Enough for his blood to trickle down. Your hands were now trading between playing with his hair and drawing small circles on the back of his neck. Your lips returned to his, smearing the blood from your tongue as if it were a beautiful crimson lipstick. The poor guy was so touch starved, he gave in to the sudden intrusion of affection. He couldn't do anything but allow you to press his buttons.
Your tongue ran over your lips, swallowing whatever blood was left on them. You took a step back to view the obvious mess you've made. Alastor's eyes were dazed as if he was in another world. His face beet red nearly matching the color of his suit. It was such an unusual sight to see on him. And you managed to do it.
"My my, Alastor, you look like you would be willing to sell me your soul just readingthe look on your face." You held your hand to your lips to cover the laugh attempting to escape. "How the tables have turned, dear." A joke of course, he would never actua-
"Yes." His ears dropped to the back of his head, still standing at your level. No sign of humor on his face.
"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked dumbfounded, mouth agape.
"I will give you my soul, but only if I'm the only one to experience that from you." Your face flushed from his proposal. Alastor had actually submitted to you because of a single kiss? But it wasn't JUST a kiss to him. It forced out desires he had been holding in for a long time. Now more than ever was he determined to have you be his. It didn't matter as to how anymore.
"You've got yourself deal, Al."
a/n: I know this one is short, it was more of an experiment because of a dream that I had. However if you like this concept, I'd be more than happy to build upon it in the future.
#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin#the radio demon#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbinhotel#alastor imagine#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor smut#alastor x y/n#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor angst#alastor fanfiction#alastor oneshot
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Hsr characters in a Soulmate au
warnings: sunday backstory, implied Gopher Wood being a bad father (Sunday), implied stellaron hunter Sunday, discrimination (aventurine, not said by reader), debt (aventurine), firefly backstory, 2.0-2.2 penacony spoilers
characters: Sunday, Aventurine, Firefly
a/n: it's so obvious who's my #1 fav in this
Sunday: writing
Throughout the world, everyone had the ability to communicate to their soulmates through writing on their own skin.
Sunday doesn't remember much about his childhood. His home-world was entrenched in war. The only constant in his life was his own sister, and the strange symbols on his wrists.
After being taken in by Gopher Wood, he would be taught that those symbols were words, and they came from his Soulmate. Excitedly, he'd take to the books to communicate with the person on the other end. At first it was little doodles, then broken sentences, and then full on conversations.
He wrote about his sister, the charmony dove, music and literature. One day, the writing stopped. You'd jot down messages in concern, so worried to the point your hand writing looked like illegible scribbles. He never did tell you his name after all.
After years, finally you got a response.
'Meet me at Dreamflux Reef, here, at 8 pm.' You couldn't help but notice that your soulmate's penmanship had improved after all these years. The once poor excuse for cursive wasn't just printed letters attached to one another, but font-like in it's neatness with broad loops. Despite the brief words written on your skin, your stomach rolled. Was it nerves or excitement?
There was a little hand-drawn map, taking up a portion of your forearm, with an 'X' on the location. You approached the streetlight ahead of you. It was five minutes before 8 pm, at the exact area he told you to be at.
There was somebody there. In the darkness, it was hard to see. The streetlight offered little brightness. Just a faint glow upon whoever it was. They were clearly halovian, a light bounced off their halo, providing a shine in your line of sight. Contrarily, they stood in dark clothes. And seemed to be fidgeting...as if waiting for someone.
As if on cue, the figure straightens up and turns to look at you. Those grey feathers and yellow eyes were unmistakable.
"Mr. Sunday?" The man hasn't been seen since the Order was chased out of Penacony.
"I didn't expect you to show up early," Sunday gives a halfhearted chuckle, then he calls your name, "you are them, right?"
"Yes, but-" You look towards your arm where the writing is located.
He sighs and shakes his head, "I...I'm the one who's been writing to you all these years." Sunday lifts his sleeve, on it is your reply to him, asking where he's been, and saying you'd be there.
Your soulmate was Sunday. The former head of the Oak Family. An MIA criminal. But also your childhood friend, who you never met.
There was so much to say, but the only thing you could think to ask was, "Why? You've been gone for so long..."
"I'm sorry. My fa-the dream master, prevented me from reaching out to you. He wanted me to be 'the chosen one' for The Order. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to-"
Gently, you put your arms around him.
"I was so worried. Please, talk to me. About everything."
He would, but now, all he wanted to do was rest in your embrace.
Aventurine: eye color
Everyone has one of their eyes the same eye color as their soulmate’s, until they meet.
It’s something that’s so arbitrary and meaningless to most people. There are only so many colors in the universe after all. But not yours.
“Sigonian.” Disdain.
“Poor child.” Pity.
“Whoever your soulmate is, you’re better off not meeting them.” Disgust.
Sigonia. A far off planet somewhere in the galaxy. Lightyears away. Where a people known for their unique eyes resides. Or used to reside.
Looking into the mirror, your right eye looks back at you, it’s a purple tinged with blue. You wonder what your soulmate’s would’ve looked like. You’ve long since accepted that any possible soulmate would’ve died years ago. Not even baseless rumors could settle any feelings of loss.
Knock Knock
Debt collectors.
The gentle knocks turn into bangs. The person standing outside takes a full walk around your house, peering inside any windows in search of you. The IPC was relentless when it came to debt. They'd make constant calls, tell your neighbors, blackmail their debtors, tack on more and more money, all to collect as much money as possible.
Just as your nerves calm down your phone rings. It's from a family member.
"Hello?"
"Hello, I'm calling from the IPC." That's not them. The voice is male with a smoothness to his voice. He disguised his number.
Just when you're about to hang up, "Don't hang up yet, I have a proposition for you." He instructs you to open the door.
You follow his instructions. Each step you make, the pit in your stomach gets wider. The door creeks as you turn the knob.
Two purple eyes, with a blue ring around the pupil. Sigonian. His eyes mirror your right one. But, within his reflection you see your own two regular colored eyes. Wait-
The man's mouth drops in shock, but instantly pulls into a grin. He hangs up the call.
"I see what's going on here. This time, the charge is on me," Aventurine insists. He's covered in designer clothing from head to toe, with golden rings lining each finger. You know right then and there that anything you say will get you nowhere. You're just glad he seems to be on your side.
"...Thank you."
"Mmm, but I never said it was without recompense." Shit. "In return, I'll provide you with a better place to live. This place is a bit...run down," he takes a glance around your home, and you can't help but feel embarrassed.
"Thank you, Aventurine, but that just sounds like I'll be in your debt."
He waves you off. "Debt? No, friend. What kind of partner would I be to let my soulmate fend for themselves?"
Firefly : timer
Every person across the galaxy has a timer leading up to the meeting of their soulmate.
4,000 years. Approximately 35,040,000 hours.
That was what Firefly had.
When she first awoke in her incubation chamber, it felt like she could wait forever. Their purpose was to devote their entire being to Glamoth. She did not dream. Not of the warmth of someone’s hands in theirs. Not of someone telling her that she was more. That was not a right of a weapon.
Yet, under the ashen sky and fields of smoke, not a single light shone through. Glamoth would never see the sun again. That was no place for a firefly.
For the last time she broke all protocol.
They unfurled their wings and chased the light. Finally, Unit AR-26710’s heart fluttered for a purpose that wouldn’t destroy.
24 hours = 1,440 minutes = 86,400 seconds.
They’d be landing in Penacony soon. She looked at her wrist, where the countdown was located. 1 day. She could feel her heart beat in her throat; she was so nervous.
Love. Kafka taught her that emotion. She’d never felt it before. Not that way.
Her eyes never left the window.
5 minutes = 300 seconds.
299, 298, 297, 296… Thinking in seconds was faster than minutes. It made time go faster. Minutes felt like eternity.
120, 119, 118, 117… Were they standing in the same area? Could she be looking at them right now? How far apart were they? Would they be tall or short? Would they be the time to put milk before cereal? Would they even like her?
10, 9, 8, 7… She watched the time tick away. She didn’t dare to look up least she burn up from the inside. It felt like her propulsion accidentally activated.
4, 3, 2, 1—
A figure crashed into her from behind. “I’m so sorry!”
0
She turned to look, and there you were. Yet, there was no celebration like she imagined. No hugging. No holding each other in an embrace. Instead, your face was pulled into grimace. Your arm gently interlocking with hers. Your posture was tight and hunched. All the signs of an uneasy person. Two Bloodhound members trailed after you.
“Did we do something wrong?” Firefly moved to stand in front of you
“That’s classified information,” one of the bloodhound guards say, gaze shifting off to look at you.
“I really didn’t do anything.” You look at Firefly with a pleading look.
The girl looks back at you and nods. She grabs your hand, the one the countdown is located on and charges for the alleys.
You hear the slap of their shoes against the concrete. The hurried pants of the guards. The footsteps behind you get louder and closer. In spite of the danger, all you can think about is the girl whose fingers are intertwined with yours. It brings a rush to your cheeks that only a breeze can soothe.
When your soulmate rounds the corner of the alley, her warm hand laced with yours turn a cold metallic. Her other hand placed around the small of your back in support. The suit of the armor is cold against your skin, but there’s a heat that radiates from the chest of the mech. It soothes your nerves. The lack of heat from her hand interlocked with yours may be replaced, but it was welcome.
When she unwraps her wings from behind her suit, a warm air erupts around you. Suddenly, you’re in the sky. The wind ruffles your hair, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when it dawns on you that you’re in your soulmate’s arms.
‘How would the other hunters react if they knew she blew her cover? Kafka was definitely going to tease her."
a/n #2: aven's was so hard to write. he feels like such a sleazebag in this but its only because he's in work mode I promise !! I want to do more of these bc it was fun.
#꒰ა fic#hsr x reader#hsr x you#sunday x reader#sunday x you#firefly x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#hsr
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Give us your thoughts on Jason and how he views the idea of domesticity 🎤
of course, anything for you! this isn’t too on par with canon but then again i prefer my canon…where he gets to heal 💋ྀིྀི
send in a request !
at a glance, JASON is rather indifferent to it all. especially after the pit. he has a unique blend of seedy mental health and issues trusting people—let alone trusting them enough to be domestic.
this isn’t to say he doesn’t long for it. he’d never admit it but he can’t shake that sense of yearning for home. the most of it he ever got was a wayne manor—and that was a lifetime ago. he’s not sure how or where to even seek it out now. does it count as domesticity when he grabs breakfast with dick and babs? when he attempts to help damian with his homework? (the boy doesn’t need any help, but he lets jason sit beside him in silence) he’s not sure he’s doing it right, his visits to his family are infrequent and tense—not the easy comfort he so desperately desires.
enter you, kind and gentle with him. you’re not pushy or dull—it’s like you were made for him. and that’s so utterly strange to him. he won’t vocalize it, but he is somewhat scared by it. he doesn’t know how to maintain stability—chaos, sure. he desperately doesn’t want to fuck it all up, but he’s also not at all sure how to sustain it.
his best bet is mimicking you. all the domestic things you do for him, he’ll return the sentiments. it’s all he knows. if you make him something after patrol—the next morning he’s waking you up to a full breakfast. if you turn on your favorite comfort show/movie after he had a bad day—he shows you one of his when you’re down.
sometimes though, he gets a tad uncomfortable with an uncomplicated relationship, the normalcy of it is undeniably jarring for him. he has better days and worse. he’s never experienced intimacy this freely. he’s not used to simple things being so special.
because to him, everything is special if it’s with you. watching the news, making coffee in the morning, starting each other’s showers—it’s nicer than jason can find the words to explain. there’s also a bit of guilt behind every sweet action. he’s not driven for the same reasons he used to. he’s not as angry anymore. so he feels guilty instead. about what exactly, he can’t pinpoint. but he has you. he doesn’t have to explain himself to you or bend over backwards for you to acknowledge him. it’s the purest thing he’s ever had.
so at the end of the day, JASON TODD is more than willing to fade into domesticity with you.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd#jason todd x y/n#jason todd thoughts#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#redhood x reader
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how about Octavinelle students with a half shark!reader headcanons who is just intimidating but nice towards them , looks like they have insane bloodlust but they're really nice , they don't talk to anyone but them cuz they're scared of accidentally hurt them (cuz when they accidentally feel someone else's blood they're mouth breaks into massive fangs)
If thus is too hard , ignore it , goodluck on your studies
Octavinelle with a Shark! Reader (HCs)
hi, i loved the ask its so cute <3
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul first meets you with his usual shark-like grin—until he sees the sheer predator energy radiating off you. He freezes mid-sentence, giving you the most awkward, watery smile. The only thing running through his mind is "I might have miscalculated."
But then you flash him the smallest, softest smile. The disconnect between your terrifying aura and kindness breaks him completely. He's staring, struggling between his business instincts and his desire not to get eaten.
“You’re quite… unique,” he says, trying not to sound nervous. “Thanks. You, too.” Azul.exe has crashed.
He soon realizes you’re not out to maul him, which makes him infinitely curious. He tries to study you, politely of course—like he’s about to offer a very lucrative loan agreement.
When he notices you only speak to him and the Tweels, he secretly feels way too smug about it. If anyone else tries to talk to you, you just give them this blank, shark-eyed stare until they flee in terror.
Azul loves it. He may be business-minded, but your intimidating presence is great for his stress levels. No more annoyances!
However, the day you accidentally get blood on your hands while eating, you smile—full shark fangs, gleaming and sharp—and he almost faints. He looks at your monstrous grin and says, voice cracking, “I-It’s… uh… a lovely smile, truly...”
You’re so worried about scaring him off, but Azul low-key thinks it’s kind of awesome. You become his VIP intimidation service—though he swears he only uses your friendship “for mutual benefit.” (Sure, Azul.)
Jade Leech
The first time Jade meets you, he knows something is off. Your posture is way too relaxed for someone exuding that much bloodlust. It intrigues him immediately. You smell like danger, but you talk like a librarian.
Jade is completely unbothered by your scary vibes. In fact, he leans in closer whenever you give off that silent, intimidating energy, like he’s trying to encourage it.
“You’re quite the curious one, aren’t you?” he says, tilting his head with a sly smile. You just blink, utterly confused by his calmness.
When he realizes you only talk to him, Floyd, and Azul, his interest skyrockets. It’s not every day someone ignores the rest of NRC while picking him as their favorite conversation partner. He takes it as a compliment, in his strange Jade way.
One day, you accidentally get a whiff of someone’s blood. You’re trying so hard to hold back, but your mouth stretches into a horrifying grin—rows of massive, sharp fangs on full display. Jade just stares in pure, gleeful fascination.
“Incredible,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you were capable of such expressions. Show me again sometime.”
You panic. “Jade, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”
“Hmm. I disagree.”
He is not even remotely afraid of you. In fact, he makes it worse by offering you little challenges—like opening oysters with your teeth or biting things just to see your fangs pop out. He probably offers his hand as a joke to see what you’ll do.
“Would you like to try it?” he says, stretching out a finger. You choke on air. “Jade, I’m not biting you.”
He just smiles, not withdrawing his hand. “How tragic.”
Floyd Leech
Floyd immediately latches onto you the moment you meet.
“Whoa! You’re like a shark! A big scary one!” he says with a grin, not remotely intimidated. In fact, he gets right in your personal space, poking at your cheek like he’s sizing you up for a fight.
When you don’t react aggressively, just awkwardly shuffle back, he finds it hilarious. You’re big, you look like you could eat people whole, but you’re nervous around others? It makes you even more interesting to him.
Floyd becomes obsessed with you. He’s glued to your side, acting like you’re his personal shark pet. He drapes himself all over you, throws an arm around your shoulders, and teases you relentlessly.
“C’mon, show me the teeth! I know you’ve got those big chompers in there.”
One day, you accidentally taste blood after someone near you scrapes their hand. Your fangs break out in full force, and you’re grinning like a nightmare creature. Floyd stares for a beat—and then bursts into laughter.
“There it is! Ahahaha! I knew you had those! Do it again!” he yells
“I-I can’t just do it, Floyd—”
“Why not? C’mon, chomp! Chomp!!”
He’s utterly unhinged about it. Floyd starts trying to coax out your fangs like a maniac, probably waving his hand around, daring you to bite him just to see if he can provoke you.
“Bite me, bite me, bite me!” “Floyd, no!” “Floyd, yes!!”
Despite his chaos, he’s weirdly protective of you. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, he switches moods instantly—grinning one second, deathly serious the next.
“Hey. Don’t bother my sharkie, or I’ll bite you.”
In the end, Floyd loves every part of you, terrifying fangs and all. If anything, he thinks you’re the coolest friend ever, and he never misses an opportunity to drag you into trouble—because, hey, what’s better than two scary creatures teaming up to terrorize people?
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul#azul ashengrotto#jade leech x reader#jade x reader#jade leech#jade#floyd leech x reader#floyd x reader#floyd#floyd leech#Octavinelle x reader
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