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#it gets worse before it gets better
thepaleunicorn · 5 months
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becoming an eminator is a hard choice one sometimes cannot refuse
it's alright it's okay aha is totally not a bad person here right
riiiiight?
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xysidhequeen · 5 months
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Equilibrium
So the Dead on Main server caused me to spontaneously spawn an entire outline for an AU because I wanted a Dark Danny fic. So. Here's a snippet of what I'm working on.
It had started out subtly. The beginning of the end. 
The GIW had crept into Amity Park, buying up empty office buildings. Making themselves known. 'Researchers' they called themselves. 
They could always be seen whenever there was a ghost attack. Not running, not helping, not hindering. Just. Watching.
The first red flag that became obvious in hindsight was when they'd reached out to the Fentons. When Jack's long winded rants on ghosts didn't scare them away. When they started taking notes.
The second red flag was the government contract sent to the Fentons a week later. 
But still, the GIW didn't do anything. They bought up the empty buildings, filled them with strangers in white suits. Amity Park gradually learned to ignore them. They were harmless, some weird government branch that had an interest in ghosts. It wasn't interesting after months of idleness from them.
Amity Parkers lowered their guard, answered the seemingly innocuous questions posed to them. 'How long have ghosts been attacking?' 'Have you ever been injured by one?' 'Have you noticed anything strange?' They were simple questions, questions any Amity Park resident could easily answer. 
Eventually the GIW became another quirk of Amity. Something expected, normal even.
Then the 'clinics' started popping up. They were free to use, offering simple health care for any Amity Park resident. Common colds, ear infections, broken bones, vaccinations. You had to do a blood test to use them, but no one minded much when they were free. And injuries were so common with the ghost attacks. Ghosts never seemed to care about collateral, except Phantom. But he was the one ghost who protected them, so that was expected. 
Amity Park became welcoming to the GIW. Open to their questions, freely giving information. Even Phantom was willing to stop occasionally when a question was called out to him by one of the white suited men or women. 
Yet still, the government contract remained. The Fentons handing over blueprints of weapon after weapon, prototype designs shipped off. Research papers handed over by the box full.
The GIW presence increased slowly, over the months that became a year. Their clinics and offices multiplied. Empty buildings and shop fronts were bought as soon as they went on sale. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see a person in a white suit everywhere you went. 
No one ever noticed how they never employed Amity Park residents. How they never hired, how there was never a help wanted sign posted or an ad made to ask for workers. No one wanted to look that deep.
Willful ignorance was easier than admitting they'd been invaded.
So the Amity Parkers kept answering questions. Kept visiting the clinics with their doctors who often asked questions unrelated to the reason for visiting. 'Have you noticed yourself becoming stronger?' 'How much sleep do you need, on average?' 'Have your eyes ever glowed?' 'How long can you hold your breath?'. 
The clinics began offering more services, addressing more issues. All still for the small cost of a vial of blood. It became normal to visit a clinic rather than a doctor for anything. Flu? Clinic. Broken bone? Clinic. A nasty burn from an ecto-ray? Clinic. 
Some people started vanishing, but that wasn't unusual in a city. People ran away or died all the time. It wasn't many, really. Maybe a one or two a month. There was no pattern in the victims, so it was presumed they were unrelated. The cops were stumped. No one paid attention to the fact that every single one of the missing had visited a clinic days before they vanished. 
Then came the blackout. Or maybe it came sooner, it was so hard to tell when it started. When it became impossible for anyone in Amity Park to reach out to someone out of it. At first anyone who mentioned it was called crazy, conspiracy theorists. 
But soon it became more obvious. Friends or family out of the city could no longer find any Amity Park resident on social media. Couldn't even find a mention of the city existing anywhere on the internet. They blamed it on the ghosts at first. They did weird things to technology, it must be them. Right?
Then they stopped being able to call out. Cell phones would no longer make or receive calls from anyone who didn't have an Amity number. They started to get restless. 
Then came the roadblocks. Anyone trying to leave Amity found that all roads out were inexplicably blocked. Construction, they claimed. All the roads at once, yes. There had been earthquakes that destabilized the roads all around Amity. So they said. 
They had been trapped, and they never saw the jaws closing on them until it was too late. 
It didn't take long, once the revelation that they couldn't leave, couldn't call for help, spread. 
The military moved in, penning them inside their city. Checkpoints were placed at every road in or out of Amity. You could only leave if you were in the company of a soldier or a GIW operative. 
'Quarantined' they were told. Because of what they weren't told. Something highly contagious and dangerous was all they were given. Hospitals were taken over by men in white suits. Doctors and nurses were sent away, fired. New ones were shipped in, strangers. 
More people started going missing. They all knew who took them but they couldn't say it. Couldn't admit it. Didn't want to. 
Curfews were enforced. No one was allowed out after sundown, businesses had to shut down an hour before. No one was allowed out until dawn, schools were forced to start later. Anyone found breaking curfew was apprehended, sent to a holding facility. They weren't seen again. 
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jess-fae · 5 months
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MERMAID AU
Note; this is my first time writing fanfic on here so pls if smth is wrong tell me cus i want to improve i maybe wanna write this out one day but i aint promising it
Excuse the horrible britsh accent
Summary; Hobie is a pirate captured by the British navy and one day Y/N a mermaid finds him
Trigger warning; violence, thoughts of death and angst lost of it
✦ Hobie Brown one of the most known pirates in the Seven Seas was captured by the British navy not too long ago for piracy
✦ after they sunk his ship they chained him to the small wooden boat swimming beside the lieutenant's ship
✦were he stayed trying to plan his great escape, yet unbeknownst to Hobie he had caught a mermaid's attention by playing his guitar every night
✦ sure the lieutenant had many men go down there and try to take the guitar from him but they all failed
✦ so Hobie kept playing every night stealing his sleep
✦and every night the mermaid would watch him from afar; you would have eaten the man long ago usually, he was easy prey after all, all men were with your siren song
✦but you didn't know something about him that didn't sit right with you, maybe it was his never-ending rebellion against the bad man's doing
✦or maybe it really was just the enchanting way he played the guitar with
✦You didn't know but you watched him for hours at a time carefully in the comfort of the darkness so no one could see you
✦That was at the least till a bigger wave hit the small boat he had stayed on and Hobie dropped his guitar into the cold ocean
✦fear lay over him as he desperately tried to get his beloved guitar back but the chains on his legs held him tight
✦Don't do it you had told yourself, interacting with humans could end badly especially when helping them
✦ but you didn't listen, instead you swam after the guitar which was way below the water now, and brought it back up
✦that when your eyes meet with his for the first time
✦Now Hobie wasn't an idiot, every pirate knew to stay away from the merfolk but you held the thing he cared for with the most
✦you saw his hesitation and laid the guitar inside the boat before backing off a little
✦eyes never leaving his, you noticed the change within them, you noticed the fear
✦you looked down at the instrument and back up at his eyes, you wanted him to play again
✦meanwhile the pirate had thought these were his last moments on this earth
✦the pirate who was always so sure that he would escape death, was now fearing it
✦Yet he wondered why the mermaid in front of him hadn't ripped him apart and eaten his heart
✦ following your eyes he found what they looked at, "Ya wan' me to play?" the mermaid nodded
✦and he did so, maybe he earned your grace? it was strange after growing up with stories where merfolk was such a cruel folk
✦ for the next nights this would repeat, after some performances, you would bring him shiny seashells and other trinkets you would at the bottom of the ocean
✦however horror had laid over you when you realised why you enjoyed the pirate company so much
✦it was no longer just his songs and melodies, the charm that Hobie had used on countless variants of people had worked on you
✦ the small touches he had allowed himself to after realizing you wouldn't bite his hand off and his glamouring words had cast a spell on you
✦ so much that you became more careless and aware of the dangers caused by others than him
✦so one night you had climbed into the wooden boat again, listing to him ramble about one of his many stories where he ruined the navy plans
✦"If ya wan' to eat me go ahead dove, I've been unda ya spell for long" his hand rested on your cheek watching as his thumb carefully stroked over your cheek
✦ yet there was no spell made from your voice, you didn't even dare use it in fear it might cut him
✦hobies eyes watched as his thumb traced your lips, only shortly connecting with your eyes before they also mimicked his
✦you wondered what he would taste like, not his blood or flesh but the way humans taste each other
✦the distance between the two of you became unacceptable far apart
✦so unacceptable that you decided to close it, not caring about the million reasons to not kiss a human out of love
✦but by the sea it felt so good, like waves crashing against each other
✦air became irrelevant, only needing this feeling to survive
✦"I think I am in love with ya, dove." Hobie said resting his forehead against yours
✦Turning at the same time a seaman walked along the deck of the ship hearing the pirate's voice, he laughed thinking Hobie had gone completely insane
✦so he looked over the edge to have his jaw falling to the bottom of the sea
✦going to wake the captain to tell him about the mermaid
✦they wasted no time to capture the unexpecting creature
✦a net was thrown over the edge and the small wooden boat was pulled up
✦fear washed over you, as you and Hobie tried to get rid of the net so you could disappear into the depths of the ocean but you failed and you landed on the deck of the ship
✦cloth was wrapped around your mouth, arms were tied together and dragged away from Hobie
✦inside the small cabin you heard the captain's cold voice speak "You ever heard the stories of mermaids being turned human?" his toothy grin scared you
✦as he lifted a blade "I always wanted to know if they were true, how about we find out." he threatened as he cut your beautiful tail apart
...
✦days later you woke up again hoping for it all to be a bad dream but as you looked down you saw that your once powerful mermaid tail and fins were now legs with feet attached to them
✦a shrill scream came rushing out of your lungs as you gripped and scratched your legs, hot tears falling down your face
✦ Regret came over you, you should have never come close to that human... but it wasn't his fault
✦The next days passed by, filled with pain and hate. The captain came inside to look at his creation ignoring the horror he caused
✦you didn't feel the same anymore, just a week ago you were feeling such bliss such love but now...
✦you couldn't feel anymore, you listened to the waves crashing against the ship hoping a storm would rip it apart and drown everyone on board
✦the captain no longer cared and you walked along the boat looking for one person only
✦you tightly held the stolen dagger close as you tried to find your way down to Hobie
✦down in the small wooden boat where everything began you hoped Hobie would understand what you were about to ask for
✦the pirate was happy to see you alive, especially after that tormenting scream that could have only come from you days ago
✦ neither of you said anything, you didn't even know how to start this, to begin with
✦"Do you know why Mermaids aren't meant to be turned into humans?" you whispered as you looked at the small waves
✦" 'cus it is cruel?" he answered ignoring how beautifully your voice was, no wonder you never spoke when you were a mermaid you would have enchanted him eminently
✦silence laid over the two of you again before you spoke "Hobie, I- I can feel this mortal body rotting."
✦salty tears came rushing over you again, was this the price you had to pay for falling in love with him?
✦Hobie was shocked and didn't know how to react so he just held you
✦you clenched the dagger harder before sitting up and holding it out to Hobie
✦ "I want you to kill me, I cannot live this life." you looked into his eyes once you would have felt such love but now you felt nothing
✦and even if wouldn't turn into seafoam like you sisters, this would be the only way to end this tragedy humans called life
Note: now don't worry I am working on part two where there will be a happy ending, I just don't wanna make this too long. <3
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kibagib · 3 months
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These are the first 3 scenes I've drawn for @starlightvld's angsty and wonderful fanfic, Broken Bones and Shattered Hearts.
It is a real pleasure to be able to capture this story in some way. Give Starlight lots of love, and I hope you enjoy their writing as much as I do!
More to come!
CHAPTERS 4-6
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six-white-venus · 1 month
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MY FAVORITE WORD EVER
rot
OR!!
gone
you find my corpse on a bright summer morning.
you break into my freezing cabin with a raised eyebrow. unphased. curious. then, a slow smile appears. i am immediately wary.
it has been years since i’ve had visitors in my humble abode and i like it that way. the cold keeps me safe. my body rots like a bruise swells; slow, painful, with withering purples and blues. it stretches the time of my body in this land into an endless limbo that i clutch with my cold, dead hands. my heart is still and i am numb, have been so for a long, long time. i am safe.
you find my corpse on a summer morning and stomp into my home/hell with eyes ablaze and teeth flashing and if i was alive, my heart would’ve seized at the sight. you lug my body to my backyard, unflinching. the sun burns my skin and everything hurts and i want to kick and scream and thrash in your hold because you idiot, you stupid motherfucker, don’t you know the rot sets in faster when life is around?
but dead men don’t scream, don’t move. you drop me on the grass with heaving breaths and all i could do is burn while the cicadas sing of my second demise. then, you start talking.
you tell me about your day and ask me about mine and barrel on when all you’re met with is silence. you tell me of the sky, the wind, and your favourite sundress. you must be insane. out of your fucking mind. don’t you see this rotting vessel of mine? my unseeing gaze and blue lips and cracking skin? don’t you smell the rot, the death? you surely do. then why aren’t you running? no, stop. stop moving closer. you madman, leave me in this wretched place. the warmth of your touch will only make me fester, don’t you see?
but you stay. you tell me how the crisp apple bursts into a delightful sweetness when you sink your teeth into it and pull my head to your lap. you tell me about your mom’s cooking and let my cold seep into your skin. my mouth is sewn shut and you are holding me so gently and i want to scream for mercy, for an ounce of cruelty. give me back my home, you villain. give me back my hell.
ice melts. the heat thaws my flesh and the rot digs into my body with its talons unsheathed and merciless. you pitch a tent next to my body and spend your nights here. night after night, i listen to the lull of your heart and watch the rise and fall of your chest as my body breaks itself down from inside out. i am warm.
and you, stubborn, baffling, ethereal you; you stay. the next day and all the days after that. the stench is getting unbearable now. i can see it in your eyes, in every ragged breath of yours. a corpse will remain a corpse no matter how much it is loved. there are only so many stories you can tell without gagging at the sight of this monstrosity. the sun always sets. stories end. love lives where life does. your kindness never did have a place between my blackened teeth and diseased heart, my dear.
but you come back with a gentle brush of lips against my decaying forehead. your hand cradles my rotten head. my sweet warmth, there you are. won’t you leave?
you won’t, right?
you dig my grave all by yourself. six feet deep, seven feet tall because you want me to be comfortable. what a useless gesture. i learn love feels like the glow of the moon and feather soft touches and a grave dug with bare hands.  you lift me in your arms, careful not to jostle me too much, lest i fall apart. kindness feels like a siren’s lullaby and i can feel my eyes droop. it’s dangerous and so very beautiful.
things are different in my new home. numbness feels so far away. there is life thrumming in my veins and eating away at my flesh. you bring me flowers everyday- chrysanthemums, dandelions and tulips- you tell me they remind you of me. how foolish. how very wonderful.
soon, i will bloom into all the flowers you can dream of from this very earth you laid me in. soon, i will rise, petals unfurling, laugh booming. i will weave myself in your braids and take root in your chest and spread down to the very tips of your fingers. my darling, my sun, my rose; i promise i will find you on a bright summer morning.
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steviesbicrisis · 1 year
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part 1
[TW: internalized homophobia | compulsory heterosexuality]
Eddie doesn't want to have a problem with Steve.
Steve is great, he's one of his best friends, contrary to all predictions, he enjoys his company, he feels at ease around him, and he knows he can always count on him.
He really doesn't want to have a problem with Steve.
When he had come out to him, a few weeks ago, Steve looked so scared and worried about his reaction. Eddie had reassured him immediately that nothing was going to change and he meant it. He hated the look on Steve's face, the idea that he didn't know if he could trust him.
Of course, Eddie was surprised. Never in a million years he would have thought of Steve as a gay - actually, bisexual - person. But other than surprise, Eddie desperately wanted to be cool with it, to be there for Steve.
It wasn't as easy as he thought.
Slowly, Steve begins to be more open about it - as much as a small town in Indiana could let him: he talks about it with Robin, sometimes with Eddie; he comes out to other people, like Dustin, Nancy and Jonathan; he ventures gay bars outside of Hawkins, he tests the waters until he's comfortable enough to actually make a move on someone.
Eddie feels bad every second of it. For every little milestone in Steve's journey, Eddie has an ugly rancid feeling at the bottom of his stomach. "I kissed a guy last night", Eddie wants to puke.
"There was this hot dude, we got out for a smoke and then-", Eddie stops listening because he knows he's close to snapping.
"I told Dustin, you wouldn't believe how cool he was with it!", Eddie feels bad, wishing he was a better friend.
Eddie tries to overcome these emotions, he really does. But sometimes he would make a face, say the wrong thing, huff or roll his eyes and Steve would notice every time.
The last straw for both of them comes on an ordinary Thursday evening. Steve is beaming and sighing as he looks out of the family video door, until Eddie has to ask what is going on.
«I have a date, a guy asked me out last night. Like, a proper date!»
«Wow Harrington, I didn’t know you gave up on women entirely» it is supposed to be a joke, but comes out bitter.
They fight. Steve can’t take any more of the snarky comments and the bad looks and Eddie knows that he’s right, but also he’s doing his best, he just needs time.
Steve tells him it’s better if they stop hanging out for a while and Eddie protests, but he can’t do more when Steve tells him «if you can look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t have a problem with me, then I can go past this and pretend it never happened.»
He tries but Eddie can’t do it, he can't lie to him. Steve’s face falls and Eddie gets out of the store being mad at everything but mostly at himself.
No one says it, but it looks like a breakup. Their friends pick up sides: Robin refuses to talk to him, Nancy and Jonathan are disappointed in him but still hang out with him when Steve isn't around, Dustin doesn’t know what happened but calls him a dick for good measure.
Eddie doesn’t complain, he knows what he deserves.
The only person who's still happy to talk to him is Chrissy. After their disastrous first date -Eddie will never ask Robin for movie advice ever again, a musical about pirates with reincarnations and lightsabers, what was she thinking?- somehow she was still happy to keep dating Eddie.
Eddie likes her, she’s nice, pretty and she isn’t as clingy as other girls Eddie dated before. They mostly talk and do stuff together, sometimes they make out but nothing more, Eddie likes it better that way.
They’re going back to his van after dinner when Eddie spots Steve in his own car, with a guy. Steve is laughing at something the guy says and then they’re kissing.
Eddie doesn’t know where the rage inside of him comes from, but he needs to leave. He realizes too late that Chrissy saw them as well. The rage turns into fear.
«Chrissy, don’t tell anyone what you saw, please» he pleads, worried about Steve.
She takes a look at Eddie’s face, then back at Steve. A thought crosses her mind.
«Uhm yeah, sure… can we go back to your place?»
Eddie is nervous for the whole ride. Half of him is worried about Chrissy saying something about Steve around, the other fears that she plans to have sex with him tonight.
Eddie opens the door for her and follows her inside, nervously.
She asks for a drink but she doesn’t step any closer to Eddie which makes him relax a little.
Actually, she sits at the opposite end of Eddie’s couch and only after they had a good amount of alcohol in their system, she faces Eddie.
She comes a little closer to him, and he feels nervous again. She seems nervous too so he completely misunderstands the situation.
«I don’t wanna have sex tonight!» he blurts out, surprising the both of them. She stares at him for a second before chuckling.
«Eddie, relax» she smiles reassuringly «this is not about us- I mean, also us but- I wanna talk about Steve.»
Eddie looks at her, completely thrown aback by her request. She knew that they had a fight but she didn't know about what, obviously, so she probably connected the dots after what she saw and his reaction.
He tells her about everything, the words come out easily and she is a great listener, mostly nodding from time to time. By the end of it, she looks determined.
«So, I get you wanna get over these ugly feelings because Steve is your friend, right? I think I can help. Drink more» she lends him another beer from the coffee table «and bare with me, okay?»
«First of all, let's talk about gay people. Does it bother you if you see two guys together?»
«Well no, not really» he answers, after giving it some thought.
«So this is about Steve» she concludes for him «it bothers you thinking of him with a guy?»
He doesn't want to admit it, but he also trusts Chrissy «yeah, it does...»
«And, does it bother you thinking of him with a girl?»
«What does that have to do with-» Chrissy interrupts him «just answer the question. If he got a girlfriend, someone that he really liked, would that bother you?»
Eddie gives it some thought. He had seen Steve dating girls before, but all of his dates turned into a disaster. It was something he expected, he had noticed and made that comment about him dating nerds.
What if he found another girl like Nancy? or someone like Robin who liked him back?
Horrified, Eddie realizes he doesn’t like the sound of that either.
«Oh shit.»
AN: the final part is almost done, I thought it would be better to split it and not make you wait too long after the first part, I hope it’s okay! Thank you for the support on the first part, really! If everything goes well I'm posting the last part tomorrow.
If you’re curious, Robin made Eddie rent The pirate movie, please google it if you have time. It’s so bad. Robin is a great friend to Steve, not so much to Eddie.
Part 3
----
Tag list: @funnymagicman-named-dandy @manda-panda-monium
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blaqcats-fics · 1 year
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(He’s) Just a Phase — Part 0
Part 1
It was 1989 when they broke up.
It was quiet. It was quick. It was devastating.
Most of all, Steve knew it was all because of him. If it had been another timeline with drastically different events, Steve was sure that his apartment wouldn’t feel so cold, so empty. In another life, Steve wouldn’t have made the same mistakes, and Steve would be in an apartment that actually felt like home.
That was not a wish that Steve could dream of anymore.
Steve was stuck in an apartment that felt too much like his parents’ house in Hawkins. Nothing in the apartment was his. The apartment held no memories or no warmth. Besides the furniture, one wouldn’t believe that anyone lived there. The apartment was clean — too clean. Cleaning meant that there wouldn’t be a reminder that there used to be something, or rather someone, that caused his heart to beat out of his chest or that caused him to feel safe.
Cleaning merely helped on the surface because underneath it all, Steve knew the truth.
Eddie was gone all because Steve hadn’t been ready.
Steve, now, wasn’t sure he would ever be ready. Even if the breakup left a giant black hole in his chest, the terrifying reality of being out scared the living shit out of him, but despite the terror that courses through his veins at the thought of telling someone, Steve hadn’t been strong enough to tell those closest to them or be proud of their relationship in safe places.
There were things Steve could blame for his hesitation. He surely could blame his parents, specifically his father, but it didn't matter. Steve made Eddie a victim of his insecurities. It didn't matter how patient Eddie had been; Steve would never have been ready for what Eddie wanted.
It wasn't until October of 1993, four years after Eddie left his life, that Steve did an unspeakable act, at least in the eyes of the Party.
Steve signed on to his walkie-talkie, newly bought months prior when his old one started to fall apart, and said his goodbyes. Not forever, but for now.
Robin had tried to show up at his apartment but was met with the sight of the landlord giving a tour of an empty apartment with a door that had an engraving of ‘E+S’ in Eddie’s shaky handwriting.
No one knew where Steve had gone. He had fallen off the grid.
He, however, was just under their noses. It was easy to hide in plain sight when no one had actually seen you in a long time. Sure, phone calls occurred, but life had gone on, and being spread out across the country made it difficult to meet, especially when everyone was an adult working some sort of 9-to-5. At first, not seeing any more made dread curl in Steve’s gut, but now, it was a safety net.
It was best that no one recognized Steve Harrington because he was about to ruin himself to the world, all in order to show Eddie Munson that he loved him more than the universe itself, and he was going to do in the only way that Eddie would listen, and that was with a busted guitar from the thrift store and mediocre voice.
All that Steve had to worry about was how Eddie was going to hear him from the top. After all, just a year after their break up, Corroded Coffin made it big.
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daisy7beauty · 1 year
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The bridge — Yunjin x reader (Part 1)
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summary: Y/n hasn't lived a happy life, but maybe, an encounter at a bridge might change that
pairings: Huh Yunjin x fem!reader
tags: angst, it gets worse before it gets better, non!idol au
word count: 2,8k
warnings: su!cide, sexual abuse (implied/talked about but never described), abuse in general, violence, part 1 is just suffering (I'm sorry)
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When y/n was young, her mother used to say that the strongest people hide their scars the best. Her mom often talked about suffering, pain, scars, and the inability to heal if you didn't try.
Y/n thought it had to do with the fact that her mother was deeply religious, to the point that she pushed her fate onto everyone near her, mainly y/n. When she thought about it now, she realized how obvious it was that all of that talk stemmed from a much different place but cut her some slack. She was just a child.
Y/n realized her misconception about her mother a few days after her eleventh birthday when she found her in the living room after she returned from school. It was Mother's Day, and she drew a picture of the two of them together at a playground just a few meters away from the apartment block they lived in and used to visit frequently. She wanted to ask her mother if she wanted to go there together and maybe get some ice cream after. Instead, she found her hanging body, face purple and puffed up like an overripe grape. She still can't eat them to this day, reminding her of that awful day.
Y/n found it funny now, the age-old saying that the daughter takes after the mother. Her father used to say it every time he got mad. That she looked like her, that she was just as useless as her, just as pathetic…he knew it cut deep. That y/n despised her mother the most out of every living being on the planet.
She knew it was wrong to hold such a grudge against a person that was long gone, but she couldn't help but feel that what her mother did was selfish.
Y/n knew that she was a bad person. Everyone said so when she confessed to what she felt about her mother, but she didn't care. That woman left her alone with her father, and that was enough. 
That sick fuck, oh god, how she hated him. Every night she dreamed of the day she could finally escape from this hell hole, running out and never looking back.
She had a plan written out in her notebook from when she was thirteen. It had been altered and modified to be as effective as possible, but the main goal remained. Get enough money and leave forever. 
Over the years, y/n had learned how to trick her father so that he would remain clueless about her plan. She knew that if he ever found out about what she'd been planning, it would be her end.
She had convinced him that she was taking extra classes after school to get better grades but, in reality, she started working at a cafe far away from their home. It took her around 30 minutes just to get there, but it was better than having her father find out.
The pay was abysmal, but after working there for almost four years and not spending a single won, she managed to save up to around 75,000,000₩.
The money is safely stored in an old backpack she used to wear in middle school. The good thing about her father not doing any cleaning or cooking is that he will never find where she hid it.
It's not as much as y/n would want, but because her father doesn't allow her to leave the apartment on weekends, she can't pick up the long shifts that would make it easier to gain more money. 
“Y/n! Where's the dinner? It's almost eight!”
Speaking of the devil. The apartment door slammed shut with a loud bang. Y/n could hear his feet dragging on the floor, and combined with the slightly slurred speech, she could tell he was drunk again.
“It's on the stove. I wanted it to still be warm for you. I will plate it soon.”
Y/n responded to him, standing up from the small bed she was resting on. Since her mother died, they have never upgraded the furniture, well, her furniture.
She still had to sleep on the tiny bed with pink butterflies she got for her tenth birthday. She had to deal with her feet dangling over the edge while her father bought a new stone bed for himself every year, insisting that he needed it because of his back problems.
“I don't want it soon, y/n. I want it now. Now get your ass here so I don't have to do something I will regret.”
The girl clenched her fists before entering the kitchen, trying to calm down. It was wide and spacious, littered with the newest equipment, a complete 180° from her room that looked stuck in the past. 
Her father was sitting on a chair in the center of the table. His hands gripping both edges, legs spread out as far as humanly possible. His chin was pointed upwards, eyes forming small slits from where his gaze followed y/n as she moved around. It was as if he was trying to show her who was the boss, who ran this household in any way possible.
“What's this?”
He asked as she started placing the food in front of him. Meat in the middle on the biggest plate, and rice in a bowl on the right. Side dishes belonged on the left and were organized by how much he liked them, kimchi always first, followed by the rest. A glass of chilled beer belonged next to the meat, closest to his hand.
“Bulgogi marinated in a sweet soy, sesame, and garlic sauce with-”
Her father cut her off mid-sentence, an irritated look on his face.
“I know what it is, y/n. I'm not dumb. I'm asking because I had the same meal yesterday. Are you getting lazy? No one will want to marry you if you can't switch it up sometimes.”
He scoffed at her, taking a long swing from his beer and placing it back on the table with unnecessary force.
“No…I just bought a bit more and didn't want to waste it. I can make something else if you want to…”
Y/n answered through gritted teeth, trying not to sound too annoyed as she knew what that would cost her. Her father just waved her off, mumbling under his breath how incompetent she was.
God, how much she just wanted to pick up the empty bottle of beer from the counter and smash it on his head, but that would get her nowhere. She just had to remind herself that this would soon be over.
Her birthday was tomorrow. In just a few hours, she will be eighteen. And then she will finally get out of here, the one-way ticket to Busan already in her bag.
As she got ready for bed that night, slipping on the worn-out pajamas that were too short on her, she checked on the hidden bag one last time, making sure that everything was in its place so that there was no way that anything would go wrong.
As she slid under the covers, the door to her room opened. The small crack let the light from the living room in and cast a dark shadow on the figure of her father. 'Enjoy it as much as you can, father.' Y/n thought, clenching her hands together as he removed the thin blanket from her body. 'Because this is the last time you will touch me like this.'
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To her utter horror, when she returned from school the next day, her father was sitting in the kitchen, her 'secret bag' next to him on the floor, its contents spilling out on the pristinely clean linoleum, almost as if they were dirtying it. He had a glass of whisky in his hand, the cubes of ice in it almost melted and he was waiting, waiting for her.
“F-father-”
Y/n's voice trembled. Her expression betrayed how she felt. Wide eyes, mouth slightly open. The deafening silence was interrupted by her school bag falling on the floor, her fingers dropping it from shock.
“Good evening, my dear daughter…I realize that this is quite a special day for you.”
He paused for a while, looking her straight in the eyes. He was smirking slightly. It was the closest thing to a smile that y/n had ever seen from him.
Even before her mother died, he always had that constant look of disgust and utter disappointment reflected on his face. The only exception from this was when he beat her or came into her room late at night.
That look of pure power and satisfaction as he watched his daughter get forcefully put back into her 'rightful place' that he always described. Beneath him in every way possible.
“Happy birthday, y/n. I know you've been looking forward to this day for a long time. Do you even know how I felt? When I found this 'diary' of yours?”
He slammed the small book onto the table. The loud 'slap' made y/n flinch in place, hands instinctively moving up to shield her face. A habit she developed awfully young. 
“I- When- When did you…”
Y/n couldn't will herself to finish the sentence. Her voice was so quiet that she could barely hear it. It felt like she was naked, stripped bare, and presented in front of her father to observe. His piercing dark eyes that have lost their humanity a long time ago, burrowing deep into her flesh.
She wanted to throw up. Not being able to stomach the way he looked at her. She could feel his superiority oozing out of him as she once again proved that he was two steps ahead of her.
“Almost a year ago. You didn't close your drawer properly. I guess you grew too comfortable, thinking I only entered your room at night and when you were there.”
He paused again, letting his words resonate around the room, taking a sip of his watered-down whiskey.
“You have no idea how hard it was for me to stop myself from beating you to death right that day when you returned from school. But that wouldn't be fair. That would be giving you the easy way out, leaving me in this shit hole alone and without anyone to make it more bearable. Then I wouldn't have someone to take my frustrations on.”
He stopped talking, mumbling something under his breath that y/n couldn't hear. Picking up the glass again, he took a long sip, clearing it of any remaining liquid before throwing it in her direction. It shattered against the door, his aim affected by the alcohol. 
“You think you can just leave me here after everything that you put me through!”
His voice was getting louder by the second as he grabbed the bag and threw it at y/n in anger. For a moment, she had hoped that someone would hear the screaming and call the police, but she knew that even if someone did, it wouldn't change a thing.
Her father was a well-respected priest that always got away by saying that y/n was just a problematic teenager that didn't respect her father enough. Most of the police officers in their area attended his sermons and believed everything he fed them, like pigs. 
The money spilled all over the floor, all of the hard work she put in in the last four years being trampled on by her sick son of a bitch father that couldn't even admit to his own faults.
“I don't think so…I don't think so…”
Her father kept repeating as he removed his belt, wrapping it around his hand. When the first hit came, she couldn't even cry out in pain, her body refusing to make noise, trained by the constant beatings and threats to make everything worse if she kept crying.
At first, she just stayed there, curled up on the floor as she took hit after hit, her skin darkening from the bruises. Her father slipped on some of the spilled banknotes and was now kneeling in front of her. She could see directly into his face, that twisted smirk mocking her.
'No, no, I can't continue living like this. What about my future, my dreams, my-'
Y/n's thought ran at a hundred miles per hour. She couldn't live like this anymore. She was an adult, a human being. Someone worthy of love and affection. Her father couldn't dictate her life anymore!
She gritted her teeth and reached for the bag just a few centimeters away from her reach. Y/n had gone over the contents of that bag a thousand times, so she knew a small switchblade rested in the small pocket on its right side. She had put it there as protection if she couldn't find a safe place to sleep at night and had to spend some time on the street.
Ignoring her father's hits, who had now switched from his belt to his hands, she slid the knife from its confinement, tightly gripping it by its base, the silver blade glinting under the fluorescent lights.
Her fingertips had gone white from the lack of circulation as she held it in her twitching hand. With as much force as she could exert in her uncomfortable position, she stabbed the blade into her father's side, holding it there for a short while, before twisting it.
The man let out a horrifying scream as he rolled away from her. Before he could even realize what was happening, she ripped it from him and buried it back inside, ignoring the pool of blood forming underneath him. She repeated her action several times, her face contorting with pent-up anger. 
As he rolled around the floor in pain, she got up, ignoring the dozens of cuts and bruises on her as she ran out of the door, not even bothering to close it behind her. The only thing she had on her mind was to get away as far as possible. Somewhere he wouldn't be able to reach her.
Her lungs were burning, and her feet were in pain, the switchblade still clenched in her hand, droplets of blood dripping from the tip as she ran. 
Y/n collapsed at the beginning of a bridge connecting two sides of the city, divided by a river, quietly flowing into the night. She was so tired it felt like it was lulling her into sleep, her eyes fluttering to a close every few moments as she fought to stay awake.
Despite the bridge being completely desolate, not even cars driving by, the sun was beginning to set, and she didn't want to be so vulnerable in an unfamiliar place in the dark. Her hand finally released the knife, letting it fall on the pavement, the sound reminding her of a bell.
“Oh my god!”
She heard someone exclaim and quick footsteps approaching her. Y/n didn't have enough energy to respond, so she just looked in the direction she heard the voice from.
She could see a tall figure of a girl running toward her, blonde hair almost glinting in the orange sun, making her look otherworldly. As the girl got closer, y/n could recognize the same school uniform she herself had on.
“Y/n? Is that you? God, what happened?”
The girl's face appeared in front of her, a look of genuine concern staring down at her.
“Yunjin…?”
She wanted to laugh. What were the chances of her school's resident troublemaker finding her beaten half to death in a ditch? How fitting.
Yunjin was known around their school for skipping most of her classes and hating any type of authority. She had flunked her senior year and was older than everyone in their class by a year. Her parents were living in the USA and sent her a fat check every month to live off. As long as she didn't get in trouble with the law, they let her do whatever she wanted.
Y/n remembers being so jealous of her. Of how confident she was, how she always seemed so carefree. And oh, what she would give for her father to live far, far away from her.
“Y/n, come on, stay with me. Don't die on me, please! Oh god, what do I do? Hello, 112. Yes, I need help-”
Yunjin's voice faded into the background as she frantically yelled at the 112 operators, not knowing what to do with her. Y/n let out a small laugh that sounded more like a cough as she looked at the older girl pacing in place, casting her panicked glances every few seconds.
“Yeah, yeah…I can do that, for sure.”
Y/n heard Yunjin say as she approached her again. She heard the EMT responders from afar, their siren and bright blinking lights announcing their presence.
Suddenly, Yunjin's hands slipped from behind her, enveloping her in a strange half-hug. Y/n guessed it was more for comfort than for help. But as they waited there, leaning against each other, y/n noticed just how warm the other girl's hands were, rubbing comfortingly at her back.
-to be continued-
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tens-girl · 1 month
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The Spaceman and The Starmaker is now complete on AO3… a heartbreaking and ultimately heart healing journey with Crowley and the Tenth Doctor, working through their traumas, exchanging stories, finding and fixing lost memories, and exploring the very profound connection that exists between them… discovering new depths to their telepathic bond and new heights of pleasure…
Does contain some hard stuff (we’re dealing with the final moments of the Time War and Crowley’s Fall so not easy topics, content warnings flagging the important aspects where necessary on individual chapters) and later chapters also with explicit sexual content.
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angeart · 2 months
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thinking about all the horrible, awful things that are going to happen in hmtb in the future <3
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Tensions Rising - Part 2
Vampire, the all female 80s thrash band, has finally made it big. But not before Dave Mustaine does the absolute unthinkable. Now, on the eve of the greatest achievement of their lives, Vampire finds out that they are going to be intertwined with not one, but both bands that ripped their singer's heart out.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! SHOO! SCRAM! VAMOOSE! GET OUTTA HERE!
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If Dave Mustaine was anything, he was a man of his word. The very next night he came back and you two managed to fuck on just about every free surface on the first floor on your house. This time though, you had managed to ask him, between sloppy kisses and moans, if he wanted to move in with you. He answered by fucking you through three mind shattering orgasms in the shower.
But you should've known that as good as things were with him, things could be equally as bad. And when it got that way, it went as bad as it could go. You remembered his betrayal like it was yesterday. You'd walked in beat from rehearsal and pulling a double shift at McDonald's, only to hear the telltale sounds of someone being fucked upstairs. At first, your mind wanted to simply refuse the notion that this could happen again, but as you forced your feet to move up the stairs to the first door on the right, there was no denying it any longer. Dave had betrayed you in the exact same way that James had.
You stood frozen in the hallway until you heard him moan and suddenly you moved. In one fluid motion, you opened the bedroom door and grabbed the empty beer bottle that was on the dresser and threw it as hard a you could at the wall over his head. The effect was instant, glass shattered and the slut he was balls deep in screamed like she'd been shot. He, however, had flipped around and grabbed the blanket to himself as if he were trying to cover himself in front of someone's relative.
"Who the fuck are you?!" The blond screamed as she pawed at Dave trying to get him back on top of her. When that didn't work and she was forced to meet the cold fury in your eyes dead on, she pulled a pillow in front of her as if that were going to protect her from your rage.
"I'm the bitch that owns this house. I'm the bitch that Dave was dating until today. Now get dressed and get the fuck out." You replied coldly. You watched with a hawk's gaze as the gears turned in her brain and she put two and two together. Thankfully, she went without a fuss. The tension in the air made the room feel like a thunderstorm was about to break, but you didn't care anymore. You listened as she brushed past you and ran down the stairs for the door to close and soon as it did, you locked eyes with Dave. You didn't know how drunk or high he was before you got home, but you could tell that he was sobering up fast.
"Baby-" He began but you cut him off by pointing a shaking finger at him.
"Do. Not. EVER. Call. Me. Baby. Again." You growled. You could feel yourself shaking and you didn't know if it was from the tears you were fighting to hold back or from trying to keep yourself from walking over and punching him square in the dick.
"Listen, I...I thought she was you!" He protested weakly and you glared at him harder. You might have been many things, but blond was not one of them.
"That is the most pathetic excuse I have ever heard come from your mouth, Mustaine, and I've heard plenty. Now, pack your shit and get the fuck out." You hissed before turning to slam the door. But then, a truly cruel thought went through your mind and you smirked to yourself before looking back over your shoulder.
"Oh and Dave? No second chances. All because you gave me no warning." You purred before slamming the door shut. By the time you made it down the stairs, the tears you'd kept at bay so well in front of them were already streaming down your face. You didn’t care anymore though. Maybe if fate saw what it had done to you, it would leave you alone.
You could hear him upstairs slamming things around and you vaguely thought to yourself that maybe you should go up and make sure he doesn't try and steal something to pawn for drugs. But if he was that desperate then he could have whatever he took. You truly didn't care you just wanted him away from you as quickly as humanly possible. Finally, after an hour he came storming down the stairs with his duffel bag slung over his back and his signature scowl on his face.
"You know, that was a fucking bitch thing to say." He growled at you as you sat hugging your knees on the living room couch. The audacity of his statement made you raise your head and look at him as though he had lost his mind.
"Oh, I'm sorry did me using those words against you...AFTER I FOUND YOU CHEATING ON ME IN MY OWN BED...hurt your feelings, Mustaine? Oh, you poor fucking pathetic thing. I don't care. Get out." You growled before laying your head back onto your knees.
Out of your peripheral, you saw him open his mouth to say something back, but then he closed it and stormed out the door. With a final slam, the Dave Mustaine chapter of your life was closed. And holy fucking shit was it ending bloodier than the one with James.
After you'd explained to the girls what had happened, you threw yourself into practicing again and Vampire started making a name for themselves around the LA club scene. A couple of times though, some of the girlfriends of the guys who came to watch would show up with them wearing Megadeth or Metallica shirts to try and get a rise out of you since James had gone on record about what he'd done to you and Dave had been overheard bragging at the Whiskey about how easy you'd been only for you to develop feelings for him. You ignored all of it though, and just committed to playing kick ass shows.
Finally, after a year, the crowd that had started out as predominantly male, started to have more and more ladies show up. You figured it was because the girls that showed up trying to make you jealous actually enjoyed the music and told their friends. This thrilled you to no end because this meant that not only were you getting a larger fan base, but you were also pulling potential groupies away from bigger bands which would cause them to come and see what all the fuss was about.
At least that's what you had figured, but it didn't exactly go down that way. It was the summer of '85 and Vampire had a single on the radio to everyone's surprise. "Do It Like Us" was gaining traction and fast around bigger cities. So, it should have come as no surprise when Megaforce, the very same label that had given Metallica and Megadeth their start, reached out by phone after a month of the single being on the air.
"GUYS, GET THE FUCK IN HERE!" You had yelled after answering that fated phone call. You put the phone to your chest to muffle the sound as you yelled for your band mates once the voice on the other end explained what he wanted. As you picked it back up, you swore you could hear chuckling.
"Ladies, this is Jon Zazula with Megaforce Records and I want to be the first to congratulate you on having a kick ass song. I've heard lots of self-produced songs that sound like hot fucking garbage, but yall did your research and it definitely shows. So, here's what I'm calling for. I would like to send Vampire to Rochester, NY to produce your first album. How does that sound?" The male voice on the phone asked.
Immediately there was a resounding chorus of 'yes' from all four of you that were gathered around the phone and your heart swelled with pride. Not for yourself, but for the other girls. They had stuck with you through thick and thin, through literal hell with James and Dave, and now you were all about to make it big.
"Hell yeah, that's what I like to hear! So, I'm going to book the tickets and call my producers and let them know you're on the way. I'll call this number back as soon as I have the tickets in hand." Jon said before hanging up.
The phone had no sooner hit the cradle before all four of you erupted into screams of pure joy. Maggie had pulled you into a tight embrace and had tears streaming down her face, Lana, the drummer, was jumping up and down screaming yes over and over, and Daniela, the rhythm guitarist, was standing there with the biggest smile on her face.
"Guys, we fucking made it!" Maggie sobbed as she squeezed you tighter. In any other circumstance, you would have been complaining about how hard she was hugging you, but you didn't care. Your dreams had just come true and dammit if you were just as happy as she was.
From the minute the call happened to the day the wheels of the airplane left the ground in Los Angeles and touched back down in New York, was absolutely a blur. You'd immediately called your gran who had screamed just as loud as the four of you had and then began planning a party for the day you all came home. You tried to tell her that you didn't even know when you were leaving yet, but she was already so far into party planner mode that she couldn't be stopped.
It was a good thing then that early the next day, Jon called back with all the information including the address to his LA office so you could pick up the tickets. After the second call, you'd gotten dressed and had your gran drive you over. She had gushed about the interior of the office which wasn't at all what you were expecting. Instead of leather and studs everywhere, it was a light grey and white color scheme. It helped you feel much more relaxed while you were there and you realized that's probably why he chose those colors. Soon enough though, your gran was driving you back home and then in the blink of an eye she was driving you all to the airport.
"Alright, girls. You take care, make sure you drink plenty of water, and remember a man's weakest point is his balls." She said as she hugged you all one by one. You couldn't help but laugh at her advice and you gave her an extra tight hug when she finally got to you.
"I love you, Gran. Thank you for being our biggest supporter and helping us for all these years." You whispered. Tears were streaming down all of your faces, but the goodbye was cut short as the boarding call for your flight was announced.
"We'll call as soon as we get settled!" You called over your shoulder as you sprinted towards the gate. The flight to New York wasn't as dramatic as you had thought it would be. There was no turbulence, no in-flight drama, no anything really. Once you'd finally gotten situated in the hotel that you'd managed to save up for, you got dressed and went sight seeing until time for your first meeting with the producer.
You walked around for two hours in the center of the city then grabbed some lunch before heading over to the studio. As soon as you walked in, you were greeted by a young lady behind the receptionist desk. She was very pretty and polite which calmed your nerves greatly as you and the rest of the band have a seat. A few minutes go by as you look around at the beautiful waiting area. Warm, pastel yellow flowers in ceramic vases were sat out on table tops here and there along with the latest issues of all the heavy metal magazines.
Your eyes immediately fell on one that was slightly sticking out of the middle of the pile and you leaned over and pulled it out. Instant regret filled the pit of your stomach as your vision was filled with a leather clad James Hetfield who had a shit eating grin on his face and a groupie hanging off of him. You put the magazine back in the middle and hoped that no one could see your face. If they could, they'd see that you still weren't over him. Thankfully, the door to the right of the receptionist opened and an older looking man stepped out.
"I'm assuming you girls are the ones that are tearing up the radio waves these days?" He asked with a grin. And with one look at each other, you all answered yes as one. And thus started the amazing six week process of making the first Vampire album that you'd all decided on calling Hell Hath No Fury. Every day when you woke up and went back to the studio, you couldn't help but grin bigger. James and Dave were many things, but unintelligent was not one of them. They would know exactly who the album was about especially since one of the new songs was entitled "Black Heart Blues". That song was a particularly nasty one with thinly veiled references to what the two of them had done to you and the studio surprisingly loved it.
You'd been in contact with your gran every single day, like you promised, but you'd been vague on purpose about when you were coming home. You couldn't help but laugh when she'd told you that she'd been presented with the "Most Metal Granny" award two weeks after the group had left for New York. You found this extremely fitting since she was the reason why Vampire was about to go on tour in the first place. What made you crack up was when you got the clippings she sent to you in the mail of her wearing a Vampire shirt, leather pants, and her signature red pumps and giving the horns as she was presented the award on the steps of the mayor's office.
As soon as you got back to LA once the album had been mixed a few weeks later, you immediately went into Surprise Metal Granny mode. You smiled as the limo you and the girls had hired pulled onto the street your gran lived on. You knew that at least one bat shit insane cranky old bitch lived on this street and she'd be out on her porch screaming in no time. Sure enough, as soon as the driver parked, here came Candy, your gran's neighbor, shuffling out on to her lawn just as fast as she could screaming about whores and the devil.
You was about to tell her to shut her trap when a far louder scream startled you and caused you to turn around. Coming down her steps, still in her robe with curlers in her hair was your dear sweet gran.
"Oh, you cruel girl! You told me you'd tell me when you were coming!" She sobbed as she pulled you into a rib cracking hug. The rest of the girls got their own hugs too as everyone stood around smiling.
"Oh, come in! Come in! I've got news from that lovely Jonny Z fellow!" She said as she pulled her robe tighter then flipped Candy the bird before ushering you all inside. Finally, after making you all some tea and sandwiches, she pulls the answering machine away from the wall as far as I will reach then makes sure the volume is all the way up before hitting play. You all sat in silence as the first few messages about extended car warranty played and then, Jonny's voice came on.
"Hello Vampire and hello to the most metal granny! I've got some huge news for all of you! Not only have I secured you a spot opening for two of the biggest metal bands in the scene, but I've also gotten you red carpet tickets...to the Grammy's! They'll be in two weeks time so you'll have plenty of time to get all fancy for it. I'll see all of you at my office on-" his voice carried on, but what you were concerned about was the look on your grants face.
"Gran, you've already talked to him haven't you?" You asked as you stood up and walked over to her. She nodded excitedly almost bouncing with glee.
"Well, who are the bands? Don't keep us waiting!" Maggie exclaimed almost vibrating with anticipation.
"YOU'LL BE GOING ON TOUR WITH METALLICA DURING THEIR AMERICAN TOUR AND THEN YOU'LL BE TOURING WITH MEGADETH IN EUROPE!" She exclaimed and one by one you felt every pair of your band mate's eyes land on you.
"Well, shit." You whispered as a cold chill ran up your spine.
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Currently writing a modern AU spider centric fic. The boy lives off of thrift store bought clothing, a second hand cell phone- given to him by Lo'ak, and whatever food is left over. Why do I suddenly feel like Jake and Neytiri treat spider like the Dursleys treated Harry fucking Potter?
Oh right because they make it known hes unwanted.
[I hope you are bullet proof this bitch about to hurt]
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dudeguythejohn · 3 months
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I read a lot of 30+ chapter TNTduo centric modern au "it gets worse before it gets better" fics where Wilbur is a flirty bastard for good or worse and Quackity is just- suffering
Which surprisingly is not as niche as you'd think.
The issue is that it is also super niche if it's all you read (it is pretty much all I can get invested in at this point so yeah it's all I read)
Note of clarification: I do relate to C!Quackity more than one can argue that any healthy person should
I can tell you my favorites so far are like complete opposites
I wish I knew how to write out my version.
But I don't
So I'm just going to practice until I can call it an actual story, and maybe then I'll post it.
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mochalottie · 2 months
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“Stay right where you are,” one of them shouts, aiming the barrel of his gun at Spider’s head. “If you move, we have orders to fire.” 
“If you move, I have reason to fire too,” Spider says with some malice, and they tense in anticipation. Drawing themselves up tight and holding their breath, eyes flickering to the deadly weapon in his hands.
The tension turns the air between them heavy as Spider draws his own gun up to his shoulder. 
And blinks again, only to open his eyes to another bloody sight.
Nearly all of them flung to the ground, their blood working its way towards the diving pool and turning the water pink. Their arms and legs spread akimbo, their eyes wide and sightless, staring up at him through the plexiglass when he steps over their bodies. 
He doesn’t comprehend that this is his doing, because it would be too much for his mind. Not when it’s already so fragile. 
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beastkind · 29 days
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Some sacrifices are worth paying - Chapter 19
Loki sat down next to the man, looked at him from close and noticed the black leather gloves. He tilted his head slightly to the side with a smirk on his lips. Thanks to Vaghn, he had some experience in flirting with mortals, but he wondered whether it was really necessary in such an environment...
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fanaticallyfleeky · 8 months
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i’m just gonna leave this snippet here of this fic i’m writing because i’m a delusional girl and i refuse to let go of these two no matter what s6 finale
So that’s how he finds himself in the Diaz living room, furniture pushed aside and Eddie’s hand on his waist. And honestly, maybe Buck should have thought about this a little bit harder before begging Eddie to help him. Because being in this close vicinity of his best friend is definitely not helping his brain to function at all.
“Can you show me one more time?”
“Jeez, Buck, I explained this step to you three times already. How do you still not get it?”
“Well maybe you’re just a bad teacher,” he grins at the offended look on Eddie's face.
“Excuse me, I can’t help it that you have two left feet,” Eddie scolds but the slight smile on his face betrays him.
“Hey, I would like to point out that you offered to help me yourself,” Buck shoves him lightly.
“Yeah, well I started to regret that decision four bruised toes ago.”
Eddie grabs his hand again and Buck’s other hand hangs awkwardly in the air.
“Eh, where did I—“
“You’re leading so your other hand goes on my waist,” Eddie interrupts him.
And honestly, it shouldn’t feel this scandalous to put his hand on Eddie’s waist. It’s not like they’ve never been in weirder positions with their line of work. But Buck’s face still heats up.
“Right, yeah, hand on the waist,” he clears his throat, “wait and why again are you not leading?”
Eddie looks bemused, “because you’ll have to lead Maddie. The man takes the lead, the woman is led.”
“Well that seems kinda sexist,” Buck mutters and Eddie snorts.
“Come on, let’s try again, you can fight the patriarchy another time. Left foot first, then— left foot, Buck–”
“Wait, my left or your left?”
“Your left!" Eddie laughs and drops his forehead on Buck’s shoulder, “Why would it be my left?”
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