#so i kept learning and researching in hopes of find either something else that could be affecting my mental health

[8rujaa]

i think i’m autistic… it has sent me into a major depressive episode not because I’m sad i might be, but because i’m sad that no one including myself realized… literally 100% of my being feels so validated when i realized it could be. i never even considered i could be autistic until i discovered what “masking” was. I’ve realized, everything I do is a mask, and the reason it’s difficult for me to live and coexist with my partners sometimes, even though i love them and wouldn’t want to be away from them, is because i’m masking 100% of the time trying not to seem cold or rude or unaffectionate bc i’m hyperaware of how i can come off…..

[itstimetotheorize]

Otto's past, his descent into madness, and the Ferryman's schemes.

In the sounds of nightmares, Otto presented himself as a psychologist devoting his life to helping children who suffered from a number of mental and sleeping disorders, but behind this image was a past he now saw as both shameful and insane.

We may not yet know to what extent, but Otto was once greatly interested in the field of parapsychology and metaphysics, the reason being was of course because of his big sister Sisi. As a boy, Otto faced the tragedy of losing his big sister Sisi, however, he never knew what happened to her, and odds are, no one else did either. The only thing he had left in regards to Sisi's possible whereabouts were the bizarre "dreams” she spoke of and the figure she would claim to have seen within her dreams, the Ferryman. As a result of Sisi's mysterious disappearance, we theorized Otto only involved himself in the field of parapsychology and metaphysics because it was the only field capable of giving him a chance at finding what he was desperate to find ever since he was a little boy…answers.

Otto wanted to know what happened to Sisi, and so long as there was no body, it was almost as if Otto retained this small sliver of hope in which he couldn’t help but think maybe, just maybe...Sisi was still out there somewhere...and yet... it was precisely this hope which quickly spiraled into an obsession. Throughout the sounds of nightmares, we see Otto's dedication to finding Sisi grow so extreme, he was even willing to disregard his own health and the well being of another child like Noone...but all the while I and many other theorists noticed Otto's descent into madness, we realized something...was this the first time such a situation happened with Otto?...or has his mad obsession over finding Sisi been something he retained for the majority of his life, to the point of it deciding every decision and every path he took? Even during his time in the field of parapsychology and metaphysics? If so, then...what happened in his life to finally make him push it all away and put an end to it all?

Somewhere along the line of his career, Otto had made the decision to put his experiences in the field of parapsychology and metaphysics behind him, refusing to rely on what he previously learned as he tried to convince himself it was all wrong, all so he could try to remain balanced over the years in an attempt to instead focus his career and life at the counties psychiatric institute, prioritizing logic and reason above all else.

However, amidst his former research in the strange and supernatural, Otto created a device with the capability to not only allow him to see into the dreams of others, but also experience them for himself through mutual dreaming. Through his device, Otto could connect his mind to another person and share in their dream... and yet... upon acquiring his new position at the ward, he never completed it, but why? He said he viewed it as fools work, but what led him to come to this realization after what could have been years of work and research? Was it just because he left the field and viewed it as ludicrous? Did he gradually lose interest?… or did his motivations for building such a contraption slip away as time went on?

Had the trauma and grief he faced over losing his sister truly become his drive for the paths he took in life, then it may have also been his sole motivation for building such a device, he merely needed to be reminded of his end goal to keep himself focused on completing it, the end goal being of course... finding Sisi and the one who took her from him….the Ferryman.

Otto explained how the Ferryman was no stranger to his world, he had been documented in various cultures around the world for hundreds of years as a sort of gatekeeper within dreams. Now, it’s not as if this was all new information to him, it was all documented in journals by his former colleagues, journals he kept. To hear his sister speak of the Ferryman was one thing, but to discover this being was known throughout many cultures around the world as a mythic entity guarding the entrance to another world, well, what more could Otto do but try and figure out how to see for himself if such a creature existed, through the only place he was believed to hide...dreams

So then...what finally made Otto leave his former field, lose contact with all those he knew and abandon his work on the device he once promised himself to finish? …unless….maybe it wasn’t that he gave it all up so suddenly, maybe what drove him to pursue such things finally came to a halt. Had Otto truly struggled over his sister’s disappearance for much of his life, then what if maybe …just maybe…the grief he felt everyday of his life finally led him down a path he did not want to face, but had to acknowledge nonetheless ....the path of acceptance. Before Noone arrived to his ward, Otto appeared to be someone who was content with his life, and although it still hurt anytime he thought of his sister as he mentioned her to someone else, like Noone, it was at this point in time where his entire life was no longer revolved around Sisi, almost as if at some point in the past....Otto simply accepted he would never find the answers he wanted, leaving him no other choice but to come to terms with one painful realization.... Sisi was gone... and she was never coming back. Had he truly come to terms with his loss, then there would have been no point in continuing the crazy idea of pursuing a mythical being who was only ever heard of in stories.......wait a minute.

If Otto truly came to terms with his loss and made steps to move on with his life, then…of all the things to occur in his life, how was it a child like Noone, a child with a direct link to the Ferryman, the very being whom Sisi saw, wound up walking into his life to seek treatment?...then again...what if it was no coincidence Noone found her way to Otto

In chp.5 of the sounds of nightmares, Otto was certain Noone’s next visit to the Nowhere would be her last, he did not have hope of her returning just as she did many times before, which is why he decided to take his chances and went against his promise to Noone (the promise was to not use his device on her for one night), and used his device on her anyway to see into her dreams and finally take a glimpse into the Nowhere. Sure enough... his machine worked...as he gazed upon the eye entity hiding within the halfway place. However, in chp. 6, despite his assumption of Noone being lost forever, to his(and our) surprise, Noone returned the next morning…but why?

Otto thought the Ferryman let Noone return as a way of toying with him, to make him feel powerless, but…was this truly the reason?….no…something's wrong… the way Noone spoke about finding the yellow raincoat in her previous visit to the Nowhere, the very same yellow raincoat which once belonged to Sisi, it was almost as if…Noone was being used to deliver a message, as if...the Ferryman wanted Otto to know there was a trace of Sisi within the Nowhere.

In chp6. it is revealed the Ferryman knew who Otto was, he could hear Otto, he responded to Otto's questions, he knew Otto desperately wanted to enter the Nowhere...but exactly how long has the Ferryman known about Otto? In chp. 4 Otto realized much like how he was often behind a two way mirror to observe the ignorant children within the reunion room who never knew he was there, it was always the Ferryman who was behind a veil similar to a two way mirror. The veil separated their two worlds, but it was always the Ferryman who could observe everything and everyone. The ferryman could see and hear everything, while Otto could not, and if the Ferryman was always there...watching....then...what if he was always watching Otto...since the day he targeted Sisi all those years ago, but unlike Sisi who would be swept away to the world of the Nowhere...what if...there were other plans set in store for Otto...

Otto was no normal man, he was the man who defied the impossible and created a device which could be capable of forming a link between the waking(human) world and the Nowhere. Sure his former colleagues and professor speculated the Ferryman and another world(the Nowhere) existed, and sure the Ferryman was documented for hundreds of years in various cultures from around the world, but the way the Ferryman and the Nowhere's existence were known, one could even say...the Ferryman and the eye entity wanted the humans to know they and the Nowhere existed. Amidst his struggles, Otto was certain the Ferryman was determine to keep him out of the Nowhere...so then why would the Ferryman tell him there was another way to enter the Nowhere? If what we theorize is true then...could it be the Ferryman wanted someone like Otto to find him and the Nowhere?...maybe

Through Otto, we know many people researched and speculated in the existence of the Nowhere and the creatures which resided in it. In regards to how information of the Ferryman and the Nowhere's existence was available throughout the world for other adults looking to learn more of this mythical place and being, well, perhaps Otto was not the only one willing to listen to a childs bizarre "dreams". But if there were other adults... did they ever come close to proving the Nowhere's existence or even sensing the Ferryman's presence?...honestly who's to say.

Still, out of everyone who could have pursued this mythical place, could it be none of them ever came close to proving it was truly real, let alone were capable of catching a glimpse of it for themselves? If so, then does this mean the only one who has thus far been capable of accomplishing this, was Otto?....but that's just it isn't it...it was always Otto...it had to be Otto, because unlike everyone else...it was Otto who had the drive to keep pushing to discover it all..no matter the cost. What am I trying to say? Well, if Otto is truly the only human being who was capable of creating a device to connect his world and the Nowhere, if he was truly willing to make any sacrifice to accomplish his goal to find his beloved sister Sisi, then what if maybe...just maybe...this was always what was expected of him...its what was planned for him from the start.

As previously stated, for Otto to have a child like Noone suddenly walk into his life, a child who saw the same being Sisi saw was.... suspicious. After everything he experienced and let go of in his life, and knowing the content life he had working at the ward before the drastic spiral into madness he underwent the more he learned of the Ferryman, the Nowhere, and Sisi's presence in the Nowhere through Noone, it wasn't long before I and many other theorists realized something...Otto was being led on... someone...or rather something was trying to pull Otto back into the path he strayed from, the path to finding Sisi, the Ferryman, and the world they disappeared too.

We have always known the Ferryman targeted numerous children to bring to the Nowhere, but we have always theorized certain adults' could also be targeted...if they were worthwhile... if Otto was truly one of them and if what we have theorized is true, then everything Otto did, everything Otto accomplished, and everything Otto was willing to sacrifice(including Noone) in his goals to find his big sister Sisi, was never for his benefit alone...Otto is being led to pursue his research by the very creatures which took his sister away. The only question now is...why does the Ferryman want Otto to continue his research?, is it just to obtain more innocent children to offer to the eye entity and its world...or has something bigger always been planned, they just needed a human who would help make it possible, but what could it be?...maybe we always knew...Despite his loss near the end of the sounds of nightmares, Otto became more determined than ever to find the other way into the Nowhere the Ferryman spoke of, and with a child like Ethan walking in through his doors, its as if someone...or rather something...is once again bringing forth yet another child with a link to the monsters who took Sisi away. If what we theorized is true then, Otto may very well have his wish granted...but not in the way he had hoped...but hey...it’s just a theory...a Little Nightmares theory.

[hb-writes]

The Force of Friendship

Summary: Charlie is upset to learn the man she thought of as an older brother…a partner in crimes against Harvey…a best friend…is a fraud. Mike has been lying to her for years, and so has just about everyone else she considers family. In the wake of the discovery and with Harvey trying to force some type of reconciliation, Charlie seems willing to do just about anything to get away from Mike. And Mike cares too much about Charlie to just let her go. 

Characters: Mike Ross, Harvey Specter, Ray Benghazi, Charlie Specter (OC), Louisa (OC)

Request: The prompt wasn’t requested, just sort of something I came to on my own. I tried to work in another request about Charlie having a severe allergic reaction. The original request was specifically for a nut allergy, but Charlie loving peanut avocado rolls is canon as per The Usual Order, so I had to find something else.  (I couldn’t find the original ask/ I thought I knew who it was from but can’t find your name either anywho hope you see this and enjoy!) 

Content Warning: Angst, thinly researched descriptions of allergic reactions and subsequent EpiPen usage, insect stings, giving past me lots of credit because I’m not looking this over at all!

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there.

Angst Celebration Masterlist

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

“Look at that. Lucky, lucky. You get Ray and Harvey—” Charlie groaned at Louisa’s announcement, but Louisa wasn’t nearly finished. “—and Mike today.” 

“Mike’s here?” Charlie glanced up at Louisa’s words, setting her pen in the book’s crease as she looked to the street where Ray, Harvey, and Mike were all waiting for her, the latter two outside of the car, loitering on the sidewalk. 

“What the hell?”

Charlie had only been expecting Ray. She’d been looking forward to having just Ray to contend with. She’d been looking forward to an easy conversation and a little quiet when she got home. Harvey was supposed to be working late and that meant she would have the apartment to herself for a few hours. She could be in bed before he arrived home and avoid him altogether if she wanted.

Charlie had recently made a project out of avoiding both Harvey and Mike to the full extent possible. She passed any of her time at the firm buried in Pearson Specter Litt’s file room or over in the library, more familiar with Harvey and Mike’s schedules than she’d ever been in her entire life—all for the sole purpose of making sure they didn’t match up with her own, that she didn’t accidentally meet either of them in the hall or Conference Room C or the staff kitchen. 

And while it wasn’t easy avoiding either of them, especially the brother she lived with, Charlie had done a fair job of it until last weekend. She’d remained strong and stubborn until having to pass forty-eight unencumbered hours with Harvey, the two of them trapped in the apartment by insistent downpours.

She’d done something close to forgiving him over the course of the weekend. She’d done it tentatively, reluctantly, but some part of her had needed it. Charlie needed her brother, even if they weren’t talking about the issue at hand. Even if they were pretending things were fine. And Harvey had, for a few days at least, seemed neutral about how she was dealing with Mike.

Charlie should have known that wouldn’t last. She should have known Harvey wouldn’t simply let things go.

“Oh,” Louisa smiled. “Who do we hate this week?” 

Charlie rolled her eyes. She hadn’t told Louisa or Noah anything about her feud with Harvey and Mike. She couldn’t. And it felt like there was no one for her to talk to because anyone she actually could speak to about it...well, they’d all already known. They’d kept it from her. Lied to her. Donna, Harvey, Mike, Rachel—all of the people Charlie normally confided in—had been keeping it from her, keeping the fact that Mike was a fraud. He wasn’t a lawyer. He’d never gone to Harvard.

“Not Ray, of course?” Louisa prompted, pulling Charlie from her thoughts.  

Charlie shook her head, dismissing Louisa’s suggestion. “No, it’s not Ray.” 

It was never Ray. He was a neutral party. Ray was the only one who didn’t push, the only one letting things lie while everyone else was working on strategies to get Charlie to forgive Mike, or at least to get her in a room with him, to get her within listening distance without her hands clasped tight over her ears, an obnoxious trill of, “La, la, la. Can’t hear you,” shouted out from between her lips. 

They were all trying to avoid a repeat of that performance.

“Harvey, then?” Louisa continued.

Charlie gave a noncommittal movement of her head as she spotted her brother step away from the car. “Can I stay with you tonight?” 

“Yeah, of cour—Oh, Harvey, hello.” Louisa smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “A pleasure to see you as always.”

“Hello, Louisa.” Harvey spared his sister’s friend an obligatory smile and greeting. “Charlotte, let’s go.” 

Charlie shook her head, recommitting her attention to the open text in her lap, scratching out some pointless words in the notebook she had set on top. “I’m staying at Isa’s tonight. Forgot to add it to the calendar.”

“It’s a school night,” Harvey said.

“And we have a paper due tomorrow, Harvey. For school. It’s worth 40% of our grade this semester and—” 

“The history paper you emailed Donna three hours ago to print off for you?” he asked. “Mike and I proofread it for you on the way over. It’s in my briefcase.” 

“Great, so it shouldn’t be a problem for me to stay over at Isa’s, then.” Charlie closed her book and gave him her full attention. “Homework’s all done. Makes no difference where I sleep.”

“Not tonight. Come on.” Harvey pulled the books from her lap and shouldered her bag before guiding her up from the bench. “You’ve got plans. Let’s go. Nice seeing you, Louisa.” 

“You, too.”

Charlie shrugged at her brother’s grasp, trying to get Harvey’s hand away from her. “You don’t have to lie to him, Isa. He knows people don’t actually enjoy seeing him.”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s go.” 

Charlie pushed Harvey’s hand away as he clasped it on her shoulder, guiding her towards the sidewalk. As Charlie approached the car, she reached out for the handle of the front door, groaning when she found it locked. Ray lowered the window. 

“Hi, Ray. Let me sit up front?”

Ray gave her a sad frown. “Sorry, Charlie.” 

Charlie turned her stare on Harvey as Ray rolled the window up. Harvey wasn’t looking at her as he held open the door to the backseat. He just assumed she’d get in. Because she’d forgiven Harvey, or done something similar to forgiving him—something she really had no choice in considering he was the only permission-granting and caregiving adult in her life—Harvey assumed forgiveness of Mike would follow along just after. It was only natural. 

But Charlie wasn’t ready and she had so recently forgiven her brother that she was almost surprised by how much Harvey was pushing this—pushing her towards Mike, towards the lie they’d kept from her for so many years, especially when he was so insistent on Charlie always telling him the truth.

“I’m not sitting between two liars for forty blocks during rush hour.” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll take the train.” She glared at her brother though she couldn’t really even tell if he was looking at her, not with those dark sunglasses Harvey thought made him look cool. Maybe they did make him look cool, but right now they irritated Charlie to no end and she would’ve liked to slam the pretentious frames down on the ground and crush them beneath her heel.

Charlie thought better of it and instead took half a step away from the car, intending to head for the nearest subway station. Harvey grasped her elbow and tugged her back before her right foot could touch down on the pavement. “No, you won’t. You’re not—” 

“Fine. No trains.” Charlie struggled against her brother’s grip. “I’ll walk, then. I’d rather walk all the way to White Hall, take the ferry to Staten Island and back than ride in a goddamn car with you two assho—” 

“Enough, alright?” Harvey snapped, rolling his eyes. “You’ve made your point and now it’s time for you two to make nice. Play in the same sandbox again. You’re friends.” 

The existence of an undeniable friendship between Mike and Charlie was a truth that had at one time bothered Harvey. It had been the bane of his existence on many occasions, that his kid sister and his pseudo-kid associate got on so well, but over the last few weeks, he’d realized that the only thing worse than their allied forces being used against him was them being on the outs.

It was quieter, for sure, but somehow that was worse.

“We’re not friends. We were never friends.” 

Charlie didn’t look at Mike as she said it. The words were almost casual. She could almost make them seem as though they were true, but Harvey knew better. Some part of Mike did too, but the part wracked with guilt was just a bit louder, so he was left with nothing more than the hope that it wasn’t true. 

“I said enough,” Harvey answered. “There’s no need to make this a whole goddamn scene. Just get in the—”

“Hey, Harvey?” Mike cleared his throat, pulling Harvey’s gaze over the top of the car. “I could...uh...I could take a walk.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes as she finally looked at Mike. She was so unused to thinking of him as the enemy, but the hurt and betrayal had made easy work of the switch, seemingly ripping the comfortable, brother-sister-like bond that had been between them to shreds. It didn’t help that Mike had become so tentative in her presence, so unsure how to handle things, so hesitant of overstepping in the face of Charlie’s anger. 

Mike had been staying quiet in a way he hadn’t been since first meeting the Specters, since he was a new associate unsure of his boss and his boss’s little sister, unwilling to insert himself in their conversations, wary of adding in his clever little quips to their banter. He’d been wary of Charlie in general, which only served to prove a point to the girl—that the relationship they’d had before was nothing more than a show. 

It wasn’t real. 

This tentative version of Mike, the one who didn’t know what to make of her, who didn’t know how to fix things, or maybe just didn’t care to try…this was the real Mike. This was the real relationship that existed between them.

“I can walk all by myself, thank you.” Charlie glanced in Mike’s direction, but avoided his gaze, instead setting her eyes on the stream of traffic moving slowly on the street as Mike came around the car to stand beside them on the sidewalk. 

“And I’ll probably beat you there, anyway,” she added.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s the back seat or you let him join you. I don’t care which, but you’ve got about thirty seconds to—” 

Charlie ripped her elbow free and grabbed her bag off her brother’s shoulder in one motion. She marched away from the car, her decision made, little attention paid to Mike’s calling her name as she stalked down the pavement. 

She kept her pace consistent—aggressive and unrelenting—even as Mike jogged to catch up. Charlie could’ve lost him if she really wanted to. She could’ve gotten far enough ahead and turned a few corners before slipping into a store or the subway or a passing crowd of tourists, but Charlie wasn’t keen for more shouting with her brother, so she settled for letting Mike struggle to keep up. She found herself enjoying his quickened steps and feeble attempts to dodge tourists more than she’d anticipated. 

Charlie kept it up for several blocks, stepping out into intersections with perilous timing, unconcerned by the warning of traffic lights as they shifted from red to green. She smirked to herself each time Mike got left behind, separated from her by an MTA bus or a line of enterprising yellow cabs. 

It was a string of back-to-back buses and a well-timed walk sign that changed Charlie’s mind about losing him for a bit, an opportunity she figured she shouldn’t give up now that it presented itself.

She popped into Central Park as the last in the line of buses passed by. She sent a smirk and a wave to Mike as she disappeared through the entrance and down one of the paths. She knew it was more probable that she would get lost in the park than Mike would—he had likely memorized the pathways in all of the city parks by the age of seven, after all—but Mike hadn’t memorized her. He didn’t know where she’d go. A few weeks ago, Charlie would have thought he knew her well enough to guess, but now…now she couldn’t be sure what she and Mike really knew about each other. And the idea of Mike twisting himself around on the sidewalk trying to figure out which way she had gone gave Charlie far more satisfaction than it should have.

Charlie knew she was being childish about the whole thing, not just in running off to the park now, but the whole silent treatment she’d instituted on anyone who had kept it from her and the smart ass comments she’d used as her only means of communication—all of it was childish. Harvey had told her as much, instructing her more than once to cut it out, but Charlie wasn’t ready to forgive Mike. She wasn’t even sure if she’d really forgiven Harvey even though they were technically on speaking terms. There was some part of her that still felt hurt by the years of deceit. She was still hurt by the fact that her friendship with Mike now felt like nothing more than another of his lies. It felt fake, like nothing more than a clever ruse. 

It all did. Most of the people in the world Charlie cared about had been keeping this from her. Most of the people in her closest circle had been lying to her. Some part of her understood why they kept it from her. She knew the legal implications of it and all. She knew she was just a kid. She knew she didn’t need to know, but those rationalities didn’t make the fact that they’d hidden it from her sting any less. 

Charlie glanced over her shoulder, back along the trail she’d been on for a few minutes now. A smarter person might have switched paths, but Charlie knew if she deviated, she’d never find her way out. She could navigate the grid system of New York’s city streets. It was easy enough to count the numbers up and down and traverse the avenues, but Central Park was a different monster—one she had never mastered and knew she never would. She was okay with that. She was okay with letting Harvey or whoever she was with be her guide.

But Charlie was alone now—or as alone as one could be in a city of 8 million people. There was no one on the path ahead of her, and Mike wasn’t behind her, so she slowed her pace to account for that knowledge. She could take her time. She didn’t have to wander much further from the street because her unwanted chaperone wasn’t something she needed to worry about any longer. He probably figured she’d taken a left, moving further into the park, rather than staying straight and staying along the path which stuck closest to the park’s edge. 

It was what most people would do, but Charlie wasn’t most people. And the thought crossed her mind that Mike should have known that. 

Don’t play the odds, play the man. Harvey always said so. They’d both heard him say it enough. And if Mike was really her friend, he would have known…

Charlie felt a wave of something, a painful confirmation of all she’d been thinking in the form of a burning lump in her throat. Her eyes pricked as they started to water and she kept moving forward, barely aware of her surroundings. She took a heavy breath and wiped her eyes before noticing the meticulously landscaped section with flowers and greenery spanning both sides of the pathway. 

She’d never been to that particular stretch of the park before and she took a moment to take it all in, amazed for what must have been the thousandth time by the fact that she could feel so close to nature, so isolated, yet so connected—so alone while still being in the heart of the concrete, fluorescent jungle that was New York.

From her spot, she could barely hear the cars out on Fifth Avenue. She could barely hear the ambient hum of a million air conditioners dotting the windows of the Upper East Side. It was just her…just Charlie Specter and the gentle breeze and the hum of insects brought to life by the warming sun—enticed, drawn to this very spot and singing their thanks to the sea of flowering plants. 

It was beautiful in its simplicity and for a moment, she felt more present and connected with the world than she’d been in weeks. Charlie had been so distracted, so consumed by everything with Mike and it just felt good to think of something else. A nice distraction from it all…

Charlie dropped her bag and waved her hand as something buzzed near her ear. She let out a nervous screech as she tried to shift away from the sound, backing away from the flowers. She flicked a hand through her hair. The buzzing was still there, so close. And then she let out a second scream—this one much louder—as she felt a sudden pinching in her neck, her hand colliding with something small and fragile, but powerful and determined. 

The buzzing sound was finally gone, but it brought her no relief, no comfort, some part of her knowing the damage was done. Charlie clapped a hand down over the spot on her neck. She could already feel the skin pulling taut as it swelled, a burning, itchy pain radiating from beneath her fingers. 

She’d experienced it only a handful of times in her life, though she could only really remember the most recent bee sting. Her father had still been alive then. She’d still been in Riverside. She’d been young, but old enough to understand, old enough for it to scare her. She had refused to go out in the backyard for half the summer after that.  

It surprised Charlie how quickly a simple stinging pinch like that could overtake her, but overtake her it did. She tried to swallow. She tried to explain away the heat flowing through her, the faint tingling in her lips and throat, the building thrum of her heart. 

She had never faced this alone before and it had been so long now—half a decade at least, but Charlie knew what came next. She could feel it already. Her throat tightened, restricting her airflow. Her vision darkened around the edges, the sunny afternoon no longer so bright. 

She couldn’t hear the breeze or the bugs anymore, either. She couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t within her—the pumping of her own blood, the wheezing of her breaths, the internal pleas for something, for someone, for help as she stumbled back down the path seeking the bag she’d dropped. 

She knew what to do. She knew she needed to find the EpiPen stashed in her bag. She knew she needed to use it—to set the needle into her own leg, but knowing and doing were two very different things. It had always been Harvey or her father administering the shot. 

She’d been trained. She’d practiced. Charlie knew the steps and she knew exactly where it was in her bag, stashed deep in the pocket within the outer section of her backpack, largely forgotten. She hadn’t been stung in years. It was there as a precaution, just in case. She knew and yet some part of her was scared of what came next. Even if she wasn’t struggling to close the distance between her and the bag, struggling to make her feet and hands cooperate, Charlie didn’t know if she could do what needed to be done.

A second pair of hands—Mike’s hands—clasped down on her bag as she reached it. She hadn’t heard him approach. She hadn’t noticed him lower to the ground, his pristine suit becoming quickly covered in dirt and dust from kneeling on the pebbled path. His fingers moved quicker than hers as he opened the outermost pocket, digging out the EpiPen she’d told him about nearly two years ago. It was something she’d mentioned to him in passing, but it was something Mike would have committed to memory even if he didn’t have a photographic memory. 

Just like he’d committed how to use it to memory, reading through the directions that day. Just in case. Just as a precaution. A piece of Charlie Specter absorbed and memorized with ease. Nearly unconscious, as natural as them becoming friends over the past few years. Family.

Mike met her eye as he prepared the device, removing the safety cap. 

“May the force be with you,” he said. Delivery of the phrase at that exact moment was another piece of her memorized, this one from a story delivered from Harvey about their trials and tribulations with her fear of needles. Harvey always said it before Charlie got a shot or received the Epipen. It was a joke, something that relaxed her a bit. It was something Mike had also filed away just because, just in case…because, fraud or not, Mike Ross was Charlie Specter’s friend, her family. He cared for her. He listened to her. He listened to Harvey and Donna talk about her. He’d committed a good chunk of her to memory, something he’d have done regardless of his abilities. He knew her allergies and her sensitivities. He knew her likes and dislikes. He knew how to make her smile. He knew how to make her roll her eyes. Mike knew it all. 

And Charlie knew him, too. She’d committed Mike to memory along the way as well, cataloging his stories and advice into places where she maybe should have been cataloging facts about the American Revolution or centripetal forces.

She had come to the conclusion that with a lie as big as they’d been keeping from her, Charlie couldn’t possibly know Mike Ross, but she did. She knew all of the little things that made Mike Mike. She knew him as well as any friend could. 

Charlie nodded and Mike swung his arm, pressing the tip of the device into Charlie’s leg. He held it there for a few seconds as the epinephrine moved into her system, relaxing the muscles in her body—allowing her breath to shift back towards normal.

“Are you alright?” Mike asked, one ear to his phone though his focus was on Charlie, watching for signs that the injection hadn’t worked and his intervention hadn’t been enough. 

Charlie nodded, unsure if she’d be able to talk. Her throat was no longer tight, but she could feel a sob rising, a wave of emotion threatening to overtake her. And even if she’d trusted herself to say something, Mike was busy anyway—talking to the emergency dispatcher, letting them know their precise location in the park and her status. Charlie pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, willing the overwhelm to pass her, to leave her alone so she could get through what came next without becoming a sobbing mess in Mike’s presence. She didn’t want him to see her like that, the tears feeling too intimate now even though Mike had seen them before.

Mike’s free hand moved to the back of Charlie’s head and he drew her to his chest, his chin settling on top of her head as he stayed on the line with the operator. Charlie’s resistance broke with the contact, the tears flowing freely as the force of their friendship drew her out of herself and away from the lonely, all-consuming anger she’d felt towards Mike, her brother, and everyone who’d helped to keep his secret. In the familiarity of Mike’s arms, Charlie inched closer to forgiveness, towards the realization that the situation wasn’t just black and white, right and wrong. It wasn’t so simple. Nothing and no one ever was—not Mike, not her, not the relationship that existed between them. Charlie wouldn’t be able to throw their friendship away, the force of it was too strong, too solid, too true. Mike Ross was a friend. He was family. And as Mike rubbed his hand down her back, holding Charlie close as the wave of emotion and adrenaline passed through her, his arms the only thing keeping her safe—together—Charlie was grateful that the force of her anger hadn’t succeeded in pushing Mike away. While they waited for the ambulance, Charlie was comforted by the idea that maybe no force in the world ever could.

Angst Celebration Masterlist

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

[poisonnxkki]

Witchcraft & Beginning The Journey✨

How I Started:

I spoke about this briefly but I'll go into more detail here. Witchcraft was not something that I just found and dove straight into. I took many years for me to develop my beliefs and at some point I just ended up on this path. I believe that even if I had to redo this life 100 times, I would always find my way back to witchcraft. As a child, I was raised Christian but I never really believed in it or felt like I belonged in that community. Around 12-13 I found alternative forms of spirituality (this was also when I was given unsupervised internet access... coincidentally). At the time, people were posting random beliefs on the internet and I tried to absorb everything (but wasn't really sure what I agreed with). As I got older, my interests began to change as well. I went from reading random "spiritual" quotes to learn about the history of religion and about different ancient cultures. Eventually I stumbled onto witchcraft and at first I thought it was a joke. Of course I loved the idea of witches and potions but I couldn’t really wrap my head around the concept. The idea kept popping up though as I scrolled through my corner of the internet and eventually it was all I was looking into.

Witchcraft became the space that I had needed all those years ago and allowed me to exercise my creative freedom. I could follow my interests, pick up concepts that resonated with me and really tailor my spirituality in a way that other religions wouldn’t allow. Everything felt unique, personal and reflective of what I wanted for myself. There are those who believe health consists of three things, body, mind & spirit. Without witchcraft my mind and spirit were lacking. It has helped me find hope, provided my spirit with a place it can flourish and now provides me with a community I can share my experiences with (& I'm really grateful for that).

Titles & Self-Confidence:

People who call themselves beginners often do so because they are either just starting (in which case the title works) or lack confidence in their skills. Regardless of what you call yourself, there is a lot of fear mongering targeted towards "beginners" in this community. Additionally, the imposter syndrome we face in regards to our own abilities or skills can be just as detrimental to our confidence as the fear mongering. I have named this experience "the beginner’s block" because it feels like something that everyone goes through when they are first starting out in witchcraft.

Most people who enter this community don't want to look foolish and so before experimenting with witchcraft, they try to do as much research as possible. There are even those in the community who recommend researching for x amount of months before beginning. I can't say that I'm a fan of that idea because, like anything else, experimenting is how we learn and grow. It is also how we build confidence in our skills to begin with and no amount of research can teach that.

The reason the title of beginner felt like it was weighing me down is because I used it to cover up my fear of being wrong. If I was wrong about something, if I didn't fully research something, if someone knew more than me on a specific subject, I could just say I was a beginner and not feel ashamed. Since abandoning that title I've realized that there is no need to be right all the time. No need to know everything about every subject and no need to question my skills. Being confident, regardless of how long you've been practicing, and being able to learn from your mistakes are probably the most important lessons I learned from the beginner’s block.

Topics for Your Book of Shadows/Grimoire:

🖤I'm purposefully not going to mention definitions or topics that are used for reference (like herb correspondences) because they are things that you can always look up on demand. I'm focusing on topics that might take a bit more time to really research and maybe point you towards your path. Pick and choose which topics interest you, don't feel like these are mandatory or necessary.

The history of witchcraft

Types of magic/witchcraft (Draconic, Green, Kitchen, etc.)

The history and mythology of your country/background (beware of closed practices)

The 4 basics (cleansing, protection, banishments & warding)

References for divination (personal gnosis, guidebooks, etc)

Ethics in witchcraft (depends on if you follow a structured belief system like wicca or not)

Plants/animals in your local area

The differences between spirits, deities, dragons & daemons (if you plan on doing any deity/spirit work)

Physical witchcraft (with ingredients) vs non-physical witchcraft (& which method you prefer)

Recipes/spells that you want to try

Shadow work prompts (if you plan on doing shadow work)

Social media witches that inspire you (Youtube, Tumblr, TikTok, etc.)

*All images are from Pinterest*

[scoups4lyfe]

Hebi Anon

Yeah that was me hating Jin

As for the Kongu ask. THEN JUST HAVE JIN SAY "I DON'T KNOW EITHER"

Jin has been set up as the exposition character, so the natural assumption is that he knows the most (not all, I really don't expect him to know everything) about what's going on.

Jin could just say (or at least imply in dialogue) that he doesn't understand why Taro has his quirks, just that he learned what they are and accommodated for them as he raised him. That would have satisfied me and have me looking for answers about Taro's behavior elsewhere. But no, just half answers and outright refusal to say more. These people are trying to understand your son. Something no one else (as far as we've seen) has ever tried to do. WHY ARE YOU NOT HELPING THEM!? If it's because there's an important reason it should be kept a secret and there would be consequences for telling to much, TELL US OR AT LEAST IMPLY IT.

You know how half of the enjoyment of the Soulsborne genre is discovering what is going on by story breadcrumbs? It works and I love the genre (despite being terrible at the games) because while it's a challenge to find the info in flavor texts, the information is all there for you once you reach it.

Now imagine a Soulsborne game where 70% of the flavor texts don't give you exposition and just insult you for even trying to ask questions and trying to figure things out and the last 30% isn't enough to make a cohesive narrative. THAT is what Donbrothers feels like to me.

I AM (or rather was, like I said I gave up and now just too angry to care) INTERESTED IN YOUR STORY AND SETTING, STOP SHOOTING DOWN EVERY QUESTION

Confusion is fine, it creates intrigue and curiosity. But Donbrothers just drowns you in confusion after confusion while holding the answers just out of your reach constantly

HEBI ANON

I AM SOOOOO SORRY YO

Bro in your other Momoi ask (that I'm writing up a response to now) I uh,....I wrote a whole a$$ essay/research paper analyzing Momoi and why he acts the way that he does, even down to him beating up his teammates, or kicking Haruka in episode 9.

So the answer to this ask is just (1) absolutely valid thoughts on Jin <33. No idea why he's like that.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(2) Soulsbourne sounds interesting 🤔. I've never heard of it before lol! I'm a big fan of video games too >:)).

So. Lemme just say here,,,

(as a preface to prepare you for the absolute nonsense I'm about to answer in your other ask)

Uh... well let's just say I perceive Tarou *TOO* well now. And I get your frustration.

I think what made it so frustrating for you is perhaps you didn't have the lens you'd need (like with 3-D glasses at a 3D movie) to analyze or interpret why Momoi is such a funny lil freak <33. I didn't quite have the lens either tbh, but I def had a bit more in my arsenal of which to approach his character.

But Nacho -- and I mean this deada$$ honest / 100% seriously

They ARE Sonoi but with Ikki's traumas LOL!!!! We were talking about inner-demons and my homie goes: "With my luck my inner-demon would be Ikki" LOL!!!!

CRYING! Anyways, outwardly and philosophically and just how they think = Sonoi.

And I appreciate Nacho so much because I'm more of an abstract thinker and its hard to ground my thoughts or really give them words, but Nacho is a very grounded thinker and whenever we talk, it really helps me find answers that I didn't even know I was looking for.

Right. So I hope my answer to your next ask helps you maybe understand Momoi a little bit better.

[carnie-calorie-counter]

Day 1 of 90•160

So it's obvious now that I'm planning my death. And some people know that I want to die on my birthday. Well I realize me getting drunk and admitting that was really, really dumb. So, I'm gonna pretend to get better and hope it makes all anxiety and worry about me dying disappear from people's minds.

If I'm successful and everything goes as planned then I'm just gonna keep researching places near me and find a quiet place where kids aren't at and I'm just gonna take some pills and hope the coma route doesn't happen.

I am sad actually since I didn't really want it to come to this, but it's really no ones fault but my own. I mean I was the kid who failed to grow up and I probably deserved the abuse because I was such a hard kid to raise...

I really was horrible and still am.

Anyway, I'm gonna do a diary everyday if possible and just let the days count down. I'll post this accounts name to my main because Lord and Lady knows that Eliza most likely won't say anything lol.

I don't want any of you to try anything after me okay? Because honestly, you all actually have places in life and have the ability to be good people and progress through your trauma. I'm never going to be able to be normal, and after twenty something years I can see it now. Not only that every time I've thought about my death I cry and I think that's incredibly narcissistic, telling and a huge sign that I'll never get better.

The reason I've chosen OD is because I'm too chicken to slice my wrist open and I don't wanna jump off a bridge or building and have someone call a clean up crew.. I don't wanna be THAT much of a burden in the beginning stages of my leave. It defeats the purpose.

It's all very surreal if I'm honest, I'm obviously going through the grieving stages. Of knowing I'll never be normal and knowing what I have to do to lessen the blow on everyone else. I'm happy one day, torn apart the next and then I'm calm. Calm as calm could be.

I've utilized the Do Not Disturb on my phone finally, it helps because I think eventually I'll stop wanting for attention at all. My absence may also really help everyone, you know, get over the person they'll eventually learn was really fucked in the head.

I'm gonna miss my dog, but everyone else will either abandon her like they would have abandoned me if I kept on living or they will be definite better owners than I had been.

I'll miss food, I've already looked up ways to help me decompose better if my friends go the funeral route and I'm gonna be liquid dieting until I completely stop eating/drinking. It'll be nice to be kinda skinny when I die though, that's a mediocre plus I guess.

I never actually had sex either, I mean I'm not a virgin but I don't really think I've ever been able to finish, have anyone else finish, or be able to say I liked any of it. It actually makes me feel like a failure too, I mean I'm supposedly hypersexual so I should just enjoy it no matter what right?

Sometimes I wish I were okay with all I wasn't alright with, maybe then I wouldn't be so insufferable.

I seek attention and I'm gonna start being alone to think about why I seek so much attention. It's not healthy for anyone because no one should have to be around me when I want attention just because I want it. I should earn it honestly. But I'm obviously not earning it and I'm not enough because I'm not getting enough. You know, data tells. Or something like that.

You know I'm really depressed too. Like it sucks knowing I have to die but what sucks is it got THIS bad until I decided "yo, nothings gonna fix so we gotta find out what to fuckin do" and the final fix was death lol

That's so sad and pathetic isn't it?

I chose 90 OR 160 days because I'm either dying on my birthday (161 days from today) or I'm gonna try dying in a cold month if my head gets too horrible to handle. (90 days)

I might have to start biting at people since I heard if you get people pissed at you before you're dead they won't miss you and they'll forget you easier.

Well this is all I can say for today.

It's 5:01 PM and I have work tomorrow

It's Wednesday June 28th 2023

And eventually I won't be here anymore 🪻

[arcadejohn127-9]

Okay so I got a weird request for you 🥸 how would the demon brothers and undateables react to an MC that is turning into a demon? Like MC gets fangs, tail, wings ect from being there for so long or is maybe being corrupted? Could you make it a little bit fluffy, though but I can also see this being funny 🤪❤

This doesn't seem weird at all! The concept is actually really interesting

Lucifer:

Lucifer was going off on you and the other brothers; all of you were caught with his stuff

You just wanted to see what he was hoarding but turns out it was just cursed music and screaming skulls

He immediately charged over and began scolding his brothers

But when levithan made a comment about Mammon already selling his items

He went full demon mode, summoning a whip and began to twist it

"MAMMOOOOOOOON-"

Mammon bolted away, Lucifer hot on his trail

You soon found mammon tied to the chandelier

You glared at Lucifer and went off instinct

"let go off my horns-"

"not until you apologize!"

He kept trying to get out of your grip but you just held on tighter

They brothers were aware you were changing but he didn't expect you to get demon strength so soon

"I will prevent you from becoming a demon if you keep acting like this, this kind of behaviour will not continue-"

"Silence or I'll shake you like a goat!"

Mammon:

You found out about your corruption before anyone else

You've been trying to hide it - unsure if it's a curse or you're actually turning

You were hoping you could get the prince to see you but it turns out fate had a different path in mind

"Oi, I want my shades back, I've let you borrow them for too long-"

He was tired of going for his shades and them not being there

Too caught up in how cute you looked in them he let you borrow them much longer than expected

"Wait - no-"

"YOU GOT DEMON EYES! the hell- you turning into a demon?!"

"uh- suprise?"

He grabbed your face, examining your new eyes

"they're real pretty- not like your original eyes weren't but- forget I said anything, we need to find out what happened to you, dumn hu- uh demon."

Levithan:

The way you both found out was purely accidental

You both noticed your teeth appeared sharper but they both shrugged it off

Believing it to be normal as alot of demon food was meat and had that kind of fleshy tough texture

You were watching some new anime and you got excited

Your favourite character seemed to be on the urge of being killed off but then suddenly - they unlocked a hidden power within and survived!

You jumped up from your seat and cheered

"You're- YOU HAVE WINGS!"

You looked behind you and sure enough, a pair of wings were flapping behind you

"WHOA!!! wait so I can fly now?!"

"But how are you- YOU'RE TURNING INTO A DEMON!!"

You were too excited to care about the corruption of your body, jumping off the walls testing out your new wings

levithan had to quickly rush you to the others to show them what happened

None of them get how you're turning but glad you're taking it in stride

Satan:

When you showed him your growing horns, he was fascinated

Immediately taking you to his room to find his study on demon and human history

"it says here that demon corruption can turn humans into lesser demons but it's normally for those who are already damned to hell and have a bad soul."

You gasped

Wiggling your fingers at him as a wicked grin grew on your face

"so I'm secretly evil, like a villian~"

He just handed you the book, amused by your attitude

He was glad you were fine with your corruption

His eyes wondered and noticing a tail forcing itself out from your clothes

He couldn't help but blush seeing it wag, watching as you read through the process of corruption

"you're the furthest thing from a villian, but if you'll let me - I'll document this, you'll be making history."

"Really? I guess so though - did something just fall out of my body? I'm too scared to look."

"it's just your tail, it seems your body isn't processing the corruption the same so some parts are developing faster than others."

You whipped around, grabbing your tail and began to squeal

Yep, Definitely was the furthest thing from evil

But perhaps it was how open you were to the devildom that it made corruption easier on your soul

Asmodeus:

"Fangs suit you, make's you look more vicious~"

He grinned, a small growl on his voice as he admired your new sharp teeth

You tried not to get embarassed as he prodded at the bottom of your fang

You thought the whole transformation was really cool

This is what most humans want! Or atleast you believed so

When he finally let go, you checked your teeth out in the mirror

"they're so cool! But what's the point it's not like I'm going to be eating anyone-"

"you could always bite me, you know that option has always been open for you."

You ignored his wink and amused smile

You knew he was just teasing but deep down you were happy he was so positive about your transformation

You were scared they wouldn't like you anymore

But they were all supportive, especially asmo

"It's not like you're really changing that much so I don't see any issue, besides I'm curious if you'll be like me and have wings!"

That was a discovery you were yet to find

Your horns were growing steadily and your eyes have changed along with your teeth

But you were yet to get any wings or tail

Beezlebub:

When the brothers found out you were turning Into a demon

First the reaction was panic and wanting to fix you

But you said you were fine with it and the process wasn't hurting you in any way

They relaxed after that

But you actually growing extra limbs such as wings and horns the panic was growing again

"you're going to be alot stronger now, I'm glad."

You flexed your arms, bringing up your fists with a grin

"Oh? You wanna try to brawl or something?"

Beel still easily overpowered you, keeping your little fists at distance from him by pushing back your head

He was smiling, a light blush on his cheeks whilst you were trying to punch him

"No, I'm happy I'll finally be able to hug you without being scared of hurting you."

"oh-!"

You immediately got embarassed

You stopped trying to fight him, looking at him with a smile

"Let's test it out! I wanna see how much stronger my body is!"

Belphegor:

"Get your tail off my tail-"

You glared at him, trying to pull away from his arms, Getting overheated from how close he was cuddling you

You processed his words; wondering what he was talking about

"My tail?! I don't have a -"

He raised his tail to reveal that his and another tail were looped aroulnd each other, clinging

"OH MY DIAVOLO I HAVE A TAIL!!"

You were able to shuffle away, bringing your tail up to your face

You were just staring at it, not expecting to see it

"you're becoming a demon........wanna learn some demon swears?"

"there's special demon swears???!!! TELL ME!"

He chuckled, rolling closer to you and began speaking in a different language, it easily rolling off his tongue

The words felt familiar but you couldn't understand what he was saying

"What does that mean?"

"Let's just say you shouldn't repeat it until you want a demon to die."

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

He was immediately informed about your predicament

Demanding to see you as soon as possible

When he finally saw you, you were barely changed

Less prominent changes were already in effect but you were yet to truely look like a demon

He was both excited and scared

Excited to see this unique change and that you'll be able to stay in the Devildoom

But scared that this is going to be a hard thing for you and you'll regret and hate them all for corrupting you

But he was surprised by your enthusiasm

"What kind of horns do you think I'll be getting? I hope they're cool."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this, I didn't know un-damned humans could turn into demons."

"me either but I practically live here already so there's not going to be a difference."

He laughed, squeezing your shoulder

You were looking at yourself in the mirror

Just trying to find any horn bumps

"I think they'll be unique type of horns, like Barbatos."

He moved his hands to the side of your head, mimicking his butler's horns

You both agreed barb had super cool horns

"Wait- won't I get that special outfit all of you have when you're in your demon form?"

"i- i actually haven't thought about that."

"do those just magic on or were they chosen and now they're just attached to that form?"

You both had to sit down and actually think about this

Barbatos:

He wasn't too surprised you were having a transformation

It was only due time before the life of the Devildom effected you

But when you came rushing in to see him, tears in your eyes

That completely threw him off

"If you don't want this to happen, I'm sure my lord will let me shift the timelines and you'll be back to normal."

"No way! I wanna be a demon~ I'll have big fangs and spooky wings-"

Seeing your tears weren't one of despair

He smiled, cutting you off

"You'll have a tail actually."

You grew more excited, jumping up and down

When asked why you were crying

Turns out on the way to get him you bashed into one of the doors

He had to check if you had any bruises after you told him that

You took it as a good time to ask what kind of tail you'll have

But he just tapped his noses

"it would be better I keep it a secret, it's your corruption after all, I understand I'm doing this not to be mean."

You let him be

But as soon as your demonic features grew in more you were rushing off to see barbatos

Solomon:

"Hey, Solo! Guess what!"

You surprised your giddy up glee

Standing at the end of the stairs to his mini potions lab

He didn't look at you, too focused on his latest project

"What is it? You've turned into a demon?"

He laughed at his sarcasm

You just grinned, bouncing over to the opposite side of him

"yes actually! I'm finally allowed outside!"

His head snapped up SO FAST

when he saw your demon form he was shocked

Never would he assume you would turn into a demon

He's like Satan, wanting to research and document your progression and abilities

"We could make a pact, perhaps then the brothers will finally-"

"I'm not making a pact with you."

You two spent HOURS discussing your corruption

You were excited to learn more about the possibilities and he wanted to figure out how a non dammed soul was able to turn into a demon

"so, I'm going to be immortal like you, it's seems you're never getting rid of me~"

"After the first 10 hundred years you'll get bored of it."

"Oof- I forgot you're old-old."

He was not pleased

Explaining he was wise not old

You just shook your head, letting him ramble about how aging works for immortal beings and how the concept of age blurs

Simeon:

"Is it painful at all? When the brothers fell I know they had to go through a similar transformation like you."

He never saw his brother's transformation, just watched them descend from the heavens

He was looking at the few differences your new form was doing to you

But you seemed fine, smiling as you sat with him

"It feels weird, I know it's happening - it's more like an itch?"

"I'll see if I can get anything that'll help, you seem fine with the change."

You fully turned to him, grinning

"oh yeah! I think it'll be cool, I'll get to be immortal and stay with all of you."

His heart softened at your words

You'll be a peculiar demon, indeed

But that was okay and he was happy you were okay

He started guessing what animal would represent you

Wondering what type of wings you'll get

Or how your tail would look

"I'm excited to see what your demon form will be when it's complete, I want to see if my theories will be correct."

"I think you can see the future, your TSL story was remarkably close to what happened between me and the brothers and their bonds leading up to my arrival."

He just laughed, that secretive glint to his see

"it's but a mere coincidence but we'll see when the time comes."

Luke:

His best friend is becoming a demon??!!!

This is so unfair!

You were his HUMAN friend! His favourite human out of all humanity!

He was so grumpy about it

Mumbling how the demons corrupted you and now you're forced to stay in the Devildom

Meaning if he wants to visit he'll have to be there which he definitely 'doesn't' want because his friends mean demons are there

"Is there no way to reverse it?"

"probably but I don't wanna - I'm happy to become a demon!"

"But why?! Won't you miss your human life!"

He felt very conflicted; he wanted you to feel the way he did so you could understand him

But he knew you were happy and he wasn't too opposed to it

It's just the fear of change and you being upset or regretting your fee decision

You were always so nice to him

He truly believed you'd become an angel like him and Simeon

"nah, the Devildom has made me the happiest I've been in years, besides if get wings we can go fly together."

You wrapped an arm around his shoulder, hugging him close as he finally un-puffed his cheeks

"you- you wanna go flying? I guess I do want that... it'll be nice."

He smiled, calming down but still wasn't sure how to feel

He wanted to fly with you and even if you didn't get wings, he always wanted to show off his growing wings

If you had a tail he'd just find a different way for you to sour into the sky

[mqnasluvr]

skinship headcanons | genshin impact

pairings; jean x gn!reader, amber x gn!reader, albedo x gn!reader

mentioned; kaeya, lisa, huffman, sucrose

warnings; suggestive themes ( jean ), all lowercase, not proofread

word count; 1.7k but half of it is albedo

jean

jean is not the touchiest person out there, but she does enjoy holding you. not too big on pda either; the most you’ll get out of her in public is maybe a quick smooch on the cheek and hand holding🛐 other than that, shes quite reserved.

her hugs are very comforting, but the first couple of times it was awkward on her part. she was used to giving barbara and klee hugs, but this was different. she wasn’t sure where to put her arms, and if anything she got more frustrated the more she hesitated.

once she grows accustomed to it, she’ll be fine. she enjoys the warmth and innocence of hugs, especially if you’re taller than her.

like i said, in public she isnt very touchy. while running errands she does keep you close though, and enjoys holding your hand more and anything.

behind closed doors shes a little bit bolder, but still shy overall. she’s not sure if she’s moving too fast for you so she waits until you initiate any type of physical contact, then takes it from there herself. it took her a long time before she managed to get the courage to kiss you tbh

one time when you two were in her office, amber walked in on you “distracting” jean from her work.

“y/n, i have to get back to work, please,” jean adverted her eyes from your gaze, embarrassed. she kept looking at the door, mentally asking herself if the door was locked or not and getting more nervous as the seconds passed.

you sat straddled on the young womans lap, her hands loosely placed on your hips. holding her face in your hands, you guided her face back to yours. “you work for way too long,” you frowned. “and i’m bored. there’s nothing to do in here.”

“the library is just across the hall—“

“if i read another book my brain will implode.” jean sighed and shook her head.

“please indulge in me just this once? please jean?” she stared at you blankly, her resolve quickly deteriorating. a couple of kisses couldn’t hurt, could it? she looked up at the clock in the corner of the room, then back at you.

sighing for the umpteenth time that day, she nodded. “just for a little while-“

before she could finish speaking, you pressed your lips to hers hurriedly, not wanting to waste any time. jean barely ever separated herself from her work, and refused to accept help from anyone else. you almost never had time alone with the acting grand master— you weren’t going to miss your chance now.

the kiss was not heated whatsoever, just very.. clumsy. and needy. on your part, at least. jean tried her best to slow you down, gripping your hips as her face heated up.

“jean, lisa needs you for somethi- oh,” amber nearly dropped the papers in her hands, immediately covering her eyes with it instead. you whipped your head around and stared at the girl wide-eyed before she spoke up again. “d-did i come at a bad time? i am so sorry, i’ll um. i’ll go now.”

jean couldnt look her in the eyes for WEEKS

it was painful

but overall, she likes physical affection, shes just nervous :,)

amber

amber LOVES touching you!! she’s 100% okay with pda. she isnt as forward as maybe kaeya or lisa, but she’s still rather bold. sometimes she forgets youre in public too, which ends up drawing a lot of attention to the both of you.

when you two go out on dates she is always touching you. hand in hand, arm around waist, whatever. theres always some type of physical contact, no matter what.

it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that you two are dating but for some reason she didn’t think that anyone knew ?? one time huffman saw yall kissing in an alleyway u really aren’t slick🤨

she loves cheek and forehead kisses, but likes receiving them more than giving really. shes a hyper one, and these kisses fluster her enough to make her quiet down. ( it’s so cute )

she often picks you up to hug you, spinning you both around in circles in an almost bone crushing hug. other than those times her hugs are really soft, but the energy is still there. ^^

have i mentioned that she is affectionate?? because she really is. she does respect your boundaries though, but if you feel uncomfortable you’re going to have to speak up on it because she won’t notice.

in private her clinginess is amplified by 10.

“i’m trying to cook, amber,” you mumbled, struggling to stir the paste sauce in the pot. all you were trying to do was make dinner for the two of you, but around 5 minutes ago she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your arms and torso. you could feel her bury her face further into your back.

“mhm, and it smells really good too,” she hummed. you groaned, and she just giggled.

“i’ll be done in like, 20 minutes, amber. you can hug barron bunny in the meantime,” you tried to pry her arms off of you but she started whining.

“that’s too long.”

“no, it isnt,” you turned around with a spoonful of pasta sauce, motioning for her to open her mouth. she slurped the sauce and gave you a thumbs up.

“see? its good, right? well it wont get much better if you keep clinging to me so much,” she stayed quiet, but at least loosened her arms around you so that it was easier to move. you lightly patted her hand. “thank you.”

“whateverrr,” she drawled, and you couldnt help but laugh.

the pasta was in fact very good

in the end, shes the exact opposite of jean, and youll need to slow her down a lot :,)

albedo

as far as physical contact goes, it’s literally the last thing you will ever find on his mind. he’s too caught up with other things to think about physical affection

he does love you yes, but he doesnt show it through physical means. he does more gift giving, like when he sees a pretty flower that reminds him of you while going out to find starsilver shards.

if you want a hug or anything out of him you’re going to have to initiate it first— it’s foreign territory, and it’s not something he’s particularly interested in, so he doesnt feel the need to indulge in it

however the first time you two cuddle you can tell that he’s hooked. and he does a terrible job at hiding it.

now, he insists that you sit in his lap while he is taking notes because it “helps him focus better” and because “he’s so lonely”

we all know that aint true lmfao

he also really likes it when you play with his hair. please play with his hair, especially when you want him to get away from his studies. physical contact is completely foreign to him so something as simple as a scalp massage will make him melt 🛐

whenever he refuses to get away from his work, sucrose always asks you to step in because he wont listen to her

“y/n,” sucrose quietly approached you as you conversed with kaeya. you turned to her and nodded, albiet a bit concerned. sucrose never really needed you for anything, what did she need now that she couldn’t do herself?

kaeya took this as his sign to leave, but not before giving you a quick pat on the head. “yes, sucrose?” you said. “did something happen?”

she nodded meekly, watching kaeya walk off. a little bubble of guilt formed in her stomach from interrupting. “ah, i need your help with something. you see, mr albedo has been doing research non-stop on a new thing that has caught his eye since yesterday afternoon. i’ve tried to get him to put his research on pause, but,” she adjusted her glasses. “he doesn’t listen to me. i was hoping if you could maybe convince him to take care of himself?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. he was doing it again. but you couldnt really blame him, he was terrible at keeping his hyperfixations under control. “i’ll take care of him, sucrose. don’t worry.”

she visibly relaxed at your words. sucrose flashed you a smile of gratitude, then waved and walked off to finish her errands in mondstadt.

—

it didn’t take him very long to notice your presence behind him. you were practically glaring at him, but there was no true anger behind it. wordlessly, albedo turned around in his chair and looked up at you.

you crossed your arms. “albedo,” you started, and it took everything in him not to sigh at the inevitable lecture.

“sucrose sent you, did she not?” he propped his arm up on the armrest of his chair, leaning his face into his hand as he gazed at you nonchalantly.

“of course she did. why aren’t you taking breaks?” he turned his chair back around, but you sat on the desk he was working at. you placed your hand on top of his papers and he shot a glare at you. it didnt phase you in the slightest.

“i have work to do. it’s much easier to do it all at once than stop inbetween.”

“have you at least been taking care of your basic needs? when was the last time you ate, or drank water?”

your eyes softened when he looked away.

hopping off of the desk, you grabbed his hand and pulled him away from his work ( gently, of course ). he barely protested.

you started muttering about how he needs to take better care of himself while pouring him a cup of water and making him a simple sandwich. he was a bit disappointed in himself for making you worry, and ate the food you gave him guiltily.

you pinched his cheek as he ate, giving it a light tug. he slapped your hand away playfully and a bit of the guilt he felt lifted when he heard your laugh. “i’m sorry you have to go through this for me.”

you shook your head. “you just need to learn how to stop yourself. you’re smart albedo, i’m sure you’ll figure it out in no time.”

he finished eating his food and, uncharacteristically, pulled you in for a hug. albedo rested his forehead against your shoulder, relaxing even further when you weaved your fingers through his hair.

“...i’m sorry, y/n.”

“stop apologizing.”

“okay. sorry. oh-”

you laughed.

[tibbinswrites]

Day 3 - Rainbows

They were everywhere. Plastered in shop windows, strung up across the street, at every booth and stall. It seemed like everyone they passed was rainbow-coloured in some kind of way. Clothing, bags, hair, even beards. Flags waved proudly above and around them. People were smiling, laughing, kissing, holding hands. Like Dean. He clenched on so tightly to Cas’ hand that he almost felt the bones grind beneath skin. He expected Cas to say something, but he didn’t, so Dean held on.

It was his first pride. At forty-one years old he was at an event that was full of young people who’d already figured themselves out. Sam (with glitter on his face) looked down at him with a soft expression.

“We can go, if it’s too much.” he said quietly. Whatever was showing on Dean’s face was apparently so pathetic that Sam didn’t have the heart to mock him.

It was too much, and Dean wanted to go. He wanted the quiet of the bunker, of the Dean-cave, where he understood how everything worked. There, neither Sam, Cas or Jack cared that he was broken. They loved him regardless, and Cas let Dean love him too, in a way that he hadn’t thought he was allowed to.

Jack, immediately distracted by the colours and sounds, rushed off towards the nearest stall, chatting animatedly with the… guy, girl? Person, person behind it, who had a multicoloured mohawk and a yellow, white, purple and black striped shirt. They looked briefly taken-aback at Jack’s overly-forward approach (and probably thousand questions), but responded just as eagerly. Jack was beaming. Eileen (with her own glittered face) followed him after a moment and Sam turned to look with a soft smile before turning back to Dean, his ‘whatever Dean needs’ face replacing it.

“I’m fine.” Dean lied, hoping that his shirt was thick enough to hide the sweat he could feel building down his back and under his arms. “Besides, Jody’s brood will be here soon, it’ll be good to see them.”

Sam paused for a moment but nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“That’s what Cas is for.” Dean muttered.

Sam’s smile was fleeting but warm. Eileen called his name and Sam turned to see his fiancee wink at him, holding a free string of condoms. Sam flushed red and went to join her, pressing a kiss to her glittery cheek and signing something back which made her laugh.

Jack was darting from stall to stall, apparently interrogating everyone, but in such a disarming, truly curious way that nobody seemed to be taking any offence.

Cas remained by Dean, letting him crush his hand, standing stock-still barely inside the cordoned off entrance.

His mouth felt dry and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t belong here. Everyone else looked so comfortable. There were couples everywhere, of all kinds, thruples too. There was even a string of six that all kept trading kisses and fond looks to each other. Even those on their own looked relaxed. Either waiting for friends or making new ones.

There were drag queens in the most flamboyant, ridiculous and amazing costumes. Huge feather boas, sequined everything and more glitter that Dean had ever owned (which was, admittedly, not much) on every exposed inch of skin.

“How about we go get a burger?” Cas said after a while, pointing at a food truck that looked a little quieter than most of the other, closer, places.

Realising that he’d spent a good long while lost in his own panic, not moving, he figured he should do something other than loiter by the entrance. This was Cas’ day too and he probably wanted to go enjoy himself with everyone else.

“Yeah,” he said, so, his feet feeling like lead, they made their way over to the truck and got a burger and bottle of water each. There were a couple of park benches set up nearby, so they sat there, next to each other, and ate. Letting go of Cas’ hand was more difficult than he’d expected. It had taken him months to get comfortable with the idea of holding Cas’ hand in public, weeks more to get comfortable with the practice. Cas winced as the pressure was finally released. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Cas shook his hand out before digging into his burger. Between mouthfuls, he went on, “We all convinced you to come here because we thought it would be good for you to break down some of the stigmas you’ve held for years about why you can’t be like one of these people,” he gestured around them, “but I don’t think any of us ever thought to ask if you were ready. This is clearly difficult for you. I’m sorry we pressured you into it. If you want to just sit here and wait for Claire and everyone to come before heading back to the bunker for dinner, that’s perfectly okay. None of us are going to judge you. This is a big experience and we’ll take it at your pace.”

“I love you.” Dean said immediately. That was his gut reaction to a lot of things Cas said, and if Dean had learned anything over the past year, it was that Cas always appreciated hearing it. Even now Cas’ eyes crinkled warm, and the edge of his mouth curled up.

“I love you too.”

They finished their burgers in silence and Dean, bolstered a little by Cas’ reassurance, began to really look around at what few booths he could see from where they sat. One of them was for struggles with high school, another was selling flags, another was about the history of Pride. He was curious about that one, he admitted. He didn’t know much about this community he was supposedly a part of. The kind of community that was so vastly different from the one he’d been raised in. A community that John had scoffed at, disrespected, with only Dean to hear him most of the time. But shifting his gaze from the stalls to the people, he had to admit that it was less overwhelmingly rainbow than he’d first thought. There were people in biker jackets and boots, people his age looking similarly nervous, without an angel of humanity to hold their hand. A teenager who looked close to tears carefully glanced around before darting into the high school booth. There were people on their own, some with an air of defiance, others completely comfortable, still others with a cloud of sadness over their heads; here, but with no family who could, or would, join them.

It was an odd thing to take comfort in, the pain of others in this place of joy and self-love, but this more than anything reminded him that they were all just people. People with their own struggles and burdens. People came to Pride anyway, either in defiance of everything that tried to tell them to disappear, or to find comfort in those with similar stories. He wondered how many people out there had fathers who forced them away from their family to try and ‘fix’ them; he wondered how many were in their forties and only just now ready to admit that maybe they weren’t the person their father had wanted them to be, that that person actually went against the values they’d been taught, and the ones they’d figured out for themselves. He was so used to feeling alone in this aspect of his life that it hadn’t even occurred to him that there would be others. He saw a man who must have been in his eighties holding his partner’s hand and brandishing a sign with fervour. Never too old to come out, and he couldn’t help but smile. He nudged Cas and pointed. “Guess that applies to you too, huh? And I think I’m slow. It took you millennia.”

Cas smiled at the men and then shook his head. “It took me millennia to find you,” he said pointedly. “Gender and sexuality was not something I ever thought about before. They don’t mean much to me. And it’s fascinating to see a celebration that both says ‘these things don’t define us’ and ‘these things are important’. It’s all about being comfortable with yourself and fighting for the world to learn to be comfortable with you too.”

“Kind of the meaning of pride, I suppose.”

“Whoever said that was a sin was sorely mistaken.”

“I mean, Pride of the seven deadly was a huge asshole.”

“Hubris is not the same as pride. I’ve always thought that sin should be renamed.”

“Take it up with Chuck,” Dean said with a grin which Cas returned.

“Thankfully, he has no more say in it than I do.”

“Let’s go look in that history booth.” Dean said suddenly, already standing and holding his hand out for Cas to take. Research was always the best first step after all. And if it was right next to the stall selling pink, purple and blue pins, then that was just pure coincidence.

[enhais]

hi!! could you do a yandere enhypen where they stalk the reader?

thank you so much!

yandere!enhypen stalks the reader

┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄

pairing: yandere!enhypen x gn!reader

genre: yandere

a/n: im making this as a reaction if that’s fine with you!

┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄

jungwon

you were walking home from work, as usual, with headphones blasting the recent hits and jungwon walked behind you from a distance, just like he’s been doing for the past couple of weeks.

you never suspected anything and it didn’t feel weird. whenever you looked behind you there was either a guy with sweet, handsome features or no one. you never thought twice about it since you lived in a fairly crowded area. sure, the recent news was about attempted murders and kidnappings and you were told to not be outside during a certain hour, but it felt safe walking home. the same thing you’ve done for years. why would it be different now?

jungwon quickened his pace as he wanted to get a closer look at you. he’d only been able to zoom in on the pictures taken on his phone, but the times you were in front of him were so much better.

“i must have you. we belong together, i can feel it. i’ve felt it since the first time we met at the café.” he sighed and stopped himself, not wanting to be caught just yet and letting you walk up to your apartment.

heeseung

the two of you had been friends for a very long time. it all started in second grade when he came to school without fruits in his lunchbox (he always had fruits with him instead of candy or other snacks). he began to cry and you, being the sweet hero that you were, handed him some apple slices and grapes, “there you go. now please stop crying, it’s a bit annoying.”

ever since then, he told you he’d make it up to you. and he did. several times. but the one thing never leaving his mind was that he had to marry you, no matter what or who stood in his way.

recently, you’ve been hanging out with his friend jake a bit more often. you didn’t want heeseung to be mad at either of you, so you just told him that you were hanging out with a friend. he didn’t believe you and that’s why he followed your every move after school.

it’s been like this for a few weeks and even though you’ve seen him a couple of times, you haven’t brought it up, thinking he was just there coincidentally. but oh boy how wrong you were.

“jake doesn’t have a chance against me, everyone knows that. im her number one priority as she is mine and i will be the one to get her heart.” he muttered for himself while slurping the smoothie he ordered to stay looking after you.

jay

you were working with enhypen as their stylist, making sure everything was right for the next comeback. jay had known you since trainee days when you took your first steps as a stylist and was excited that you were gonna work with them now. you were still learning things about the industry, but your colleagues had an open mind thinking that they needed someone younger’s thoughts.

just like you, jay had grown up so much since the last time you saw each other. he, of course, never forgot you and had been stalking your social media accounts at least once a week. you never knew that though, and he wasn’t planning on telling you.

stalking on the internet soon came to be stalking in real life. he always kept an eye open on your schedule, planning to “bump into you” by accident and hoping that you were gonna visit them for measurements even though everything was mostly finished.

“oh, hi y/n! what are you up to?” he put his hand on your shoulder and held it there for a moment before letting go, “i have a meeting about the concept in a few, how about you?” you returned the question, not wanting to sound impolite, “just the usual… training.” he smiled and you nodded as you walked off to the meeting, “i’ll see you later, jay.”

jake

you’d never met him in your life, but something told you you’d seen him before.

you were working the late-night shift at the restaurant and were quick to take the orders. you didn’t really care about the guests, just having one goal in mind and that was to go home and sleep.

a guy came in, looking like the lead in a drama, and sat down by the bar. you were immediately caught up in his handsome features, from the way his eyes shone in the dimmed light to his bright smile. “what would you like today, sir?” you asked as you got ready with the notepad. he looked directly into your eyes with that sweet smile, “you.” you burst out laughing, “oh yeah? that was funny.” it took a second before you collected yourself and the guy still didn’t take his eyes off you, “i can recommend the burger and the steak, but if you want more vegetables, i’d recommend the salad.” you explained.

jake ordered the steak and picked up his phone after you left, wanting to take some pictures of the place. of you.

later that night, when he received the tab, he wrote down your name in his phone and wrote you a cute little note on a napkin, “loved the conversation, might have to steal you from work someday.” and added his phone number, hoping you would call.

sunghoon

you were at the ice rink to support a friend and give them some assistance. sunghoon immediately made his way over to you who was standing by the side all alone.

cold air whooshed against your face, making your cheeks a bit more red, “hi, who are you? i haven’t seen you here before.” his smile was sweet, “im here with a friend.” he hummed, “well, if you want to hang out later, i can make some time.” you blushed and gave out a nervous chuckle, “mhm, we’ll see.”

the two of you exchanged numbers and have spent a lot of time together since then. what you didn’t know, however, was that sunghoon had pressured your friend to bring you to the ice rink that day… he had seen you around town before and did his research. you were more difficult to find, so he went for a different approach: kidnap your friend and threaten them to help him get you.

“you’re friends with y/n, right? i want you to get them to the ice rink.” they nodded hastily, trying to respond, but his hand was covering their mouth, “i know the two of us have talked before, i know you usually hang out there, so just do me a favor and get them there.”

sunoo

working at a busy café in the middle of seoul made you see thousands of people every day. sunoo, however, only wanted to see you.

he came in at least once every day to order coffee and have small talk. when he came in your colleagues immediately gave you a heads up, “the sweet sunoo is here again, miss girl.” they laughed and you walked out the storage room with a bright smile, “thanks guys.” sunoo took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you, “hi sunoo.” you greeted as you re-tied the apron, “do you want the usual? or maybe try something different?” he smiled, “the usual, thank you.”

his gaze never left your face and you’d gotten quite used to it. still, what made you a little worried was his lockscreen. you swore it was a picture of you taken from afar. you didn’t dare to question though, thinking it would start something you didn’t want to experience. but, what you didn’t know was that he’d been stalking you for the past couple of months. not only grabbing coffee and having small talk but following you to your home, getting to know your daily routines and who you hung out with as well.

“if you want to visit the company, you know where it is. just call me and i’ll take you on a tour.” he laughed and gave you a napkin with his number on it. you looked at it for a minute before locking eyes again, “thank you.”

niki

as a trainee at belift there are a lot of things to do. practice singing, practice dancing, study for the upcoming tests in school, and so on and so forth. you’d been at belift for about a year and recently gained a lot of attention from the producers as your monthly evaluation really stood out from everyone else.

but it’s not only the producers who are interested. niki from enhypen has been keeping an eye on you from the day you arrived, wanting you in his life one way or another.

you’d just finished dance practice and were on your way to fill up your water bottle as you bumped into him. “oh, hi y/n. you good?” with a black cap and oversized black hoodie, you barely recognized him, “niki?” he nodded with a short laugh, “oh, im good.” you began, “i just finished practicing.” you motioned to your bottle, still waiting to be filled with water, “mm, alright. we’ll talk later, yeah? i have a meeting.” he explained and gave you a wave goodbye.

you thought he was just like any other guy at the company: hardworking, sweet, and motivated, and you were right, but he was hardworking, sweet, and motivated for you as well. taking every chance to talk to you, touch you, making you want to be with him. but that would take some time for you to figure out, he made sure of that.

[when-they-write-stuff]

SterekWeek2020: Day Four (Soulmates)

~

The soulmark appeared on Derek’s skin the day he turned eighteen.

It had been excruciating at first. He’d been in the apartment with Laura grumbling about the store-bought cake she’d picked up, even though he said he didn’t want to celebrate, when he’d felt like his skin was on fire. And Derek wasn’t used to pain. Not like that, at least.

It had taken him back to so many years ago, kneeling in a layer of ash while he watched his childhood home go up in flames. And for the first time, Derek had wondered if this was what it felt like to be burned alive.

But he hadn’t died that day, no matter how much he felt like he deserved it. And when Laura had shaken him awake moments later, a cool cloth pressed against his bare skin, Derek had realized there was a mark left in wake of the pain. One on his back, inked into his skin.

He was lucky, Laura had said after seeing it. Not everyone got a soulmate.

Derek hadn’t felt very lucky.

Kate never had a tattoo. Derek remembered that well enough, from this one night when his skin had been bared to the woman and she’d laughed when he asked. They weren’t meant to be soulmates, Derek knew. But part of him had still hoped.

He and Paige had been too young. And after her death, Derek thought that if it was meant to be, he’d never really know for sure.

So he got his soulmark when he’d turned eighteen. And in the years after that, Derek never came across anyone else with the marking of the Triskelion on their skin. He didn’t really know if he could consider himself lucky for that or not.

But then Stiles Stilinski came along.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

-

Stiles used to have this dream. 

From the moment he met Lydia Martin, decided she would one day be his wife, and spent every moment after that thinking about her, he’d had this dream. That one day, they’d get matching soul marks. Tattoos, inscriptions, symbols, whatever. He’d seen it all. 

His dad still had the inked-mark that he and Stiles’s mother had shared. It was dull grey now, fading with every day, but it was still there. And Stiles knew that one day, he’d have one too. He didn’t know how exactly he knew, but he did.

Or maybe he just hoped. Hoped so hard that at some point, he’d convinced himself it would happen. He had this dream with Lydia Martin. That one day, they’d be soulmates.

It never happened.

Stiles turned fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and realized that maybe Lydia Martin wasn’t for him. It might’ve all started when Stiles stumbled across a certain angry-eyebrowed werewolf, but he’d never admit that out loud. Because some part of him still clung to his childhood dream; one of red hair and sharp green eyes. Something that was safe, sound, and long before werewolves.

Except after a while, Stiles’s dream changed. It turned into one of grey-green eyes that were sometimes red, sometimes blue, and sometimes gold.

Stiles fell head over heels for eyes that never stayed one color. And his dream changed from red hair to that of raven black, a triskelion marked into the skin of Derek’s back. A tattoo that Stiles caught sight of one day, his heart nearly stopping when he saw it.

Because not everyone got a soulmate. But the soulmark meant that Derek had one.

Stiles was seventeen-and-a-half when he realized that once again, the person he loved could never truly love him back. And he thought he could learn to live with that. Eventually.

Derek didn’t make it easy.

The first time Stiles came home after lacrosse practice to find Derek waiting in his bedroom, he’d nearly committed murder. But it wasn’t his fault that werewolves did creepy things like chill in the dark, okay? And it didn’t help that Stiles would have liked to have Derek in his bedroom on literally any other occasion that didn’t involve possible death. 

Which at first, he really thought was going to happen. That the man was actually going to rip his throat out or something. 

But instead, Derek had proceeded to give him a list of ‘research needs’ before leaving. Needs which Stiles very nearly threw away, except he liked having a throat, thank you very much.

So he didn’t. And in the days, weeks, and months that came after that, Derek kept showing up. Kept showing up, hanging around for a few moments, and then leaving.

Like an asshole.

Stiles thought it would be so much easier if he could hate Derek as much as the man obviously hated him. Anytime they were stuck in the same situation together, Derek seemed to make sure Stiles understood his distaste. From when they’d first met to any time after that.

And okay, maybe Derek didn’t hate- hate him. Not as much as he used to, anyway. But Stiles was still pretty sure the man might one day rip out his throat. Just because.

It was like the Lydia Martin situation all over again. Stiles was there, Derek was there, and Stiles was so hopelessly pathetic.

Derek didn’t make anything easy.

“You know one day,” Stiles said, when the werewolf swung through his window for the third time that week. “I’m going to be off at college and you’re going to have to look for someone else to be your precious little researcher.”

Derek paused at that, looking confused. Stiles raised an eyebrow and Derek grunted after a moment, moving forward.

“You’ll come back.”

“Oh, really?” Stiles said. “And why would you think that?”

Once more, Derek looked disturbed. “Because it’s you.”

“Dude,” Stiles said. “I’ve got one more year left until I graduate. One more year of supernatural threats appearing literally every other day. Do you really think I plan on sticking around for even more after that?”

Derek just stared.

But Stiles had thought this through, he really had. He already knew his dad wanted him as far away as he could get, though Stiles had been dubious at first. Except then he’d nearly died by a witch curse the day after, and that had made up his mind pretty quickly.

And it wasn’t like his hopeless pining for Derek had anything to do with it all either. Totally not.

In the silence, Derek’s brows had drawn together. Stiles stared at him, a little surprised the man actually expected him to stick around. Because it wasn’t like it would matter if Stiles left. Sure, the pack would lose one mighty grand researcher. The betas would have to go somewhere else when Derek got tired of their teenage angst and kicked them out. And sure, there’d no longer be any easy human bait to lure in the Monster of the Week.

But that’s really all that Stiles was good for.

“Alright then,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “What did you bring for me to research tonight?”

Derek gave him a long, silent look, face unreadable. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, earth to Sourwolf?” 

“Nothing,” Derek said, turning away. Stiles blinked as the man pulled himself right back out the window, sitting still for a moment before shoving himself up and stumbling after him. But by the time he looked out into the darkness, the roof was empty. So was the lawn.

Stiles blinked again. Then frowned. “Okay then, asshole!”

He didn’t get an answer.

Stiles really didn’t understand Derek Hale sometimes.

-

So many things had gone wrong in Derek’s life, he really should have expected this to go wrong too.

This being Stiles Stilinski, of course.

In the month after his impromptu visit to Stiles’s bedroom, Derek had been drastically cutting back on seeing the boy. Only when it was really necessary did he show up at Stiles’s window, reverting back to the old days when he’d drop off a list of ‘research needs’ before leaving again.

So many things in Derek’s life had gone wrong. He really just didn’t understand why this would fall into the list.

Because it was Stiles Stilinski. Stiles-hyperactive-skinny-annoying-Stilinski. Derek didn’t exactly hate him, not anymore, at least. Maybe not at all. Not since that one night, at least, when Derek left the Stilinski house feeling a little bit confused and a little bit empty for reasons he couldn’t quite place.

It took him a month to figure out exactly what part of their last conversation had shaken him so.

Stiles was leaving.

One day, Stiles was going to leave Beacon Hills.

Derek didn’t think that mattered until it sunk in one night as he watched the pack gather around the TV for the Friday night movie. His gaze lingered on Stiles and when Derek finally put two-and-two together, realizing this wasn’t going to last forever, that confused and empty feeling came back.

And Derek realized that at some point, he’d fallen in love with Stiles Stilinski.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

Some part of him thought all of that sounded about right. Derek had fallen in love a few times in his life and it never worked out. Well, if ‘not working out’ consisted of having his teenage girlfriend killed and family murdered.

So, of course, it’d be Stiles. Stiles, who Derek couldn’t stand. Stiles, who Derek had never been able to shake.

Stiles, who Derek stared at right now and realized with a pang that he was in love with the idiot.

“Uh, hey, Sourwolf?”

Snapping back to reality, Derek realized Stiles was staring at him. His chest suddenly constricted and he felt like he’d had a mini heart attack, earning a strange glance from Boyd. Clenching his jaw, Derek turned away and glared at the opposite wall, trying to figure out when things had gone wrong and why the hell he was feeling like he was about to claw his way out of his skin.

Lucky, Laura had said once. He was lucky because he had a soulmate somewhere out there.

One that wasn’t Stiles Stilinski.

Before Derek’s heartbeat could betray him any more, Derek turned around and grabbed his keys, starting toward the loft door. Stiles sat straight up as Derek passed him, the boy’s scent flaring with confusion.

“Dude, Derek?”

“I’m going out,�� Derek growled, not even turning around. He could feel the others staring at him in confusion.

The door slammed at his back.

And despite it all, Derek barely managed to wait long enough to get outside before he was yanking his shirt over his head and taking off at a run.

-

Stiles turned eighteen a month before he graduated. 

That’s when he woke up to it.

The ink curling around his neck, that is. Stiles went through most of his morning completely unaware, hopping into the shower without glancing into the mirror and stumbling around his room looking for clean clothes afterward. He didn’t even bother to mess with his hair, figuring he was already running late enough as it was.

It wasn’t until Stiles stumbled downstairs and noticed how his dad stared at him like he’d grown two heads, that Stiles realized something was wrong.

“Um, son?”

Stiles blinked at him, but his dad’s attention was fixed solely on his neck. Reaching up unconsciously, Stiles rubbed a hand over smooth skin. “Yeah?”

“Is that a...?”

Stiles stared. Then broke away, stumbling into the bathroom and yanking down the collar of his sweatshirt.

And there it was. Patterns of black ink that curled into three different spirals; a soulmark that Stiles had seen before. But more importantly, a soulmark that Stiles had seen before while being so sure it would never be his own.

For a moment, Stiles just gaped.

Then he had a panic attack.

To be fair, there was a difference between pining over Beacon Hill’s grumpy-growly Alpha werewolf and actually thinking that he stood a chance. Stiles could drool over Derek all he wanted. He’d figured long ago that it would never add up to anything.

And Derek was probably going to kill him for this. Gut him. Rip out his throat before anyone could figure out that Derek Hale was the soulmate of Stiles Stilinski.

He was so dead.

By the time Stiles had finally calmed down, his dad was pounding on the door and saying something that Stiles couldn’t catch. All he could do was stare into the mirror, wondering faintly if he was still asleep and all of this was just a dream. 

Derek was going to kill him. 

Unless Stiles avoided the man as much as Derek had been avoiding him, that is.

The thought struck him like a blow. Stiles blinked at his own reflection and then cursed, yanking his collar up around the mark. Finally unlocking the door, he stumbled out of the bathroom and did his best to brush off his dad’s questions, head spinning. Because until he could figure this all out, Stiles didn’t even want to think about the mark currently on his skin.

It felt like it was burning, but maybe that was just in his head. And oh god, Derek was so going to kill him. Unless— unless— maybe Stiles could skip town. Or the country. Or something.  

He didn’t last nearly as long as he’d hoped. 

Stiles ditched going to school and avoided the pack’s calls, his mind going in circle after circle. He faintly recalled Scott having said something about him going to the loft that night, but Stiles was too terrified to leave his room.

Instead, he waited until his dad left for work, the man still looking unsatisfied as his eyes stayed glued to Stiles’s neck all the way out the door. Then the moment he was gone, Stiles tore off his shirt and raced back into the bathroom, running his fingers over the triskelion on his neck.

The last spiral stopped just above his collarbone. If Stiles pulled his collar up high enough, it almost hid away the entire tattoo, but standing shirtless in front of the mirror, Stiles could just stare, tracing the soulmark over and over again.

He’d been crushing on Derek Hale for years. Years.

He didn’t think Derek felt the same. 

Especially as of late, after the Sourwolf had suddenly stopped showing up at his window. The last straw had been when Derek had stormed out of the Friday movie night three months ago and then proceeded to skip each one after that. 

Stiles didn’t know if it was him or just Derek Hale being Derek Hale. But he might as well have been non-existent every time he tried to call or text Derek to find out.

Groaning, Stiles grabbed his shirt and trudged upstairs. This was it. He was going to have to live out of his bedroom until college. He was going to have to wear turtlenecks until graduation. Stiles was never going to be able to go back to the loft ever again.

That was his beginning thought process, at least. But then his window was shoved open.

Stiles yelped and grabbed the nearest blanket, wrapping it around himself tightly. For a moment, he half-expected to see Scott, because he’d been ignoring the boy’s texts all day. But then Derek pulled himself through the window instead.

And Stiles nearly had another panic attack.

As if he could tell, Derek froze. The man still had one leg outside of the window and he pulled himself all the way in carefully, raising his hands in surrender. Stiles just stood there, blanket wrapped around himself, staring in silent alarm.

Derek’s eyes narrowed as they searched his face. And then they went to his neck.

Instantly, Stiles was bunching the blanket up even higher. Derek raised an eyebrow and stepped forward, still staring at that now hidden spot of Stiles’s soulmark.

“Stiles, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“What is wro— nothing’s wrong!” Stiles said quickly, retreating a step back. “Absolutely nothing is wrong, big guy. I’m just, um, sick. Very sick.”

Derek stopped, his expression going flat. “You do remember I can hear you lie, right?”

Stiles internally cursed himself. “Of course, I do. But I’m fine.”

“Hm,” Derek said, not looking convinced. “What are you hiding, Stiles?”

And now wasn’t that the million-dollar question? If it weren’t for freaking werewolf hearing, Stiles would have continued lying his ass off. But as it was, meeting grey-green eyes that seemed to look right through him, Stiles just stayed silent. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Scott said he texted you.”

“Yes, Sourwolf, he did. Multiple times.”

“So you know the pack is waiting at the loft, then.”

“For…?”

Derek’s left eye twitched and the man’s ears turned a little red. Stiles blinked, confused for a moment, before nearly choking on his own breath. 

“Oh my god,” he said. “I told Scott I was spending my birthday at home!”

“It was the pack’s idea,” Derek defended, folding his arms over his chest. “Not just Scott’s.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Does that include you?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. He didn’t need werewolf hearing to notice how Derek’s face tightened and the man avoided his gaze. “You're lying.”

“I am not.”

“You’re totally lying!” Stiles said again. He stepped forward, but felt a small tug on the blanket. Glancing backward, he spotted where it had gotten caught on the edge of his bed and cursed, trying to maneuver it free.

That’s when Derek yanked on the other side of the blanket.

“Hey, wait— asshole!”

Stiles spun around, clapping both hands over the spot on his neck as if that would do anything. But Derek had already gone stock-still, eyes wide and face pale. The man’s gaze was fixed solely on the spot where the triskelion was.

Stiles’s heart plummeted. For a moment, they both just stood there.

Then Derek stepped forward. Stiles stepped back.

“Okay, okay, I know what you’re going to say…” He said, then paused. “Actually, I don’t. But I have a fair idea and as long as it doesn’t involve ripping this token human’s throat out, I’m pretty sure I can take whatever rejection you’re about to dole out. Just make it quick, big guy, would you?”

Derek stopped too, looking at Stiles like he was crazy. The man’s eyes were still a little wide, but they weren’t red and Stiles didn’t spot any claws, which he supposed was a good thing.

Stiles waited, slowly lowering his hands. Derek stared at the mark for a long moment before looking back at him.

“That’s new?”

Stiles tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Sort of.”

“Today?”

“I mean, I really thought I’d be able to keep it hidden longer—”

“Why?”

Stiles blinked. “Uh, I don’t…”

“You don’t want it,” Derek said, cutting him off. The man looked a little pained. “You didn’t want it.”

And that was the exact opposite of what Stiles expected Derek to say. To be honest, he’d been waiting for something along the lines of ‘why you? Why Stiles Stilinski?’ or whatever else rejection entailed. But Derek actually looked hurt and Stiles had no idea why.

“Um,” Stiles said, once more floundering unsuccessfully for words.

Derek was starting to look like he was about to go for the window, and if Stiles knew he’d probably never see the man again if that happened. So moving forward, Stiles caught Derek by the arm. The werewolf jerked like he’d been burned.

Quickly, Stiles let go. But he didn’t step away, not yet. “Dude, it’s not like that. I’m just so confused.”

“You were going to hide it,” Derek said.

“Because I didn’t want to get my throat ripped out!”

The man’s eyes flashed. “What?”

The conversation was taking so many turns, Stiles didn’t know how to react. So instead of saying anything else for a moment, he just raised his hands. And Derek actually seemed to relax a little.

The silence didn’t last long though, before Derek was clearing his throat. “Did it hurt?”

“Hurt?”

“The tattoo.”

“No,” Stiles said quietly, searching his face. “It was there when I woke up.”

Derek looked uncomfortable for a long moment. Then he dropped his gaze to the bedroom floor, shuffling from foot to foot. “So it’s a bad thing, then?”

Was it a bad thing? 

Stiles was so surprised, he actually could have laughed.

Because he used to have this dream, right? This dream of soulmarks and Lydia Martin. Or maybe it was less of a dream and more of an attraction back then. But then he had this fantasy. This fantasy of glowing eyes that never stayed the same color. 

That too, he’d abandoned before it could break him down.

Was it a bad thing?

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “Nothing about this could be bad, Sourwolf, ever. Unless you plan on ripping my throat out, that is.”

Derek stared at him. Then the man actually rolled his eyes. “What is it with you and getting your throat ripped out?”

“Alright, big guy, you were the one that made that threat in the first place.”

“Three years ago.”

“It was a very impactful moment!”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles blushed, running a hand through his hair. “Not like that, asshole.”

“Hm.”

For a moment, Stiles entertained the idea he was dreaming again. But then Derek stepped forward and there were calloused fingers tracing over the tattoo on his neck. Stiles froze, a shiver running down his spine, and Derek paused for a second.

“Is this okay?”

Stiles closed his eyes, turning his face into the touch. He could’ve sworn he heard Derek growl at the back of his throat to that.

“Stiles—”

“Yeah, Sourwolf,” Stiles said, opening his eyes to look back at the werewolf. The words stuck in his throat, just a little. “This is okay.”

This time, when Derek’s eyes sparked red, it was anything but threatening. He was closer now, Stiles realized. Close enough that Stiles thought if he wanted to, he could kiss the man.

He wanted to. Oh hell, he wanted to.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Stiles swallowed nervously, Derek’s fingers unmoving where they touched his neck. Where they touched the soulmark that Stiles had never expected to show up. Not on him. Not identical to the one of Derek’s skin.

He used to have this dream—

Stiles didn’t even have a chance to finish that thought before Derek moved forward and kissed him first.

[lexosaurus]

Going Angst Week 2021: Family/Friends

Read: [1: Birth] [2: Instinct]

Continuation of the No One Knows AU plotline.

---

Everything had changed since the accident. The biological differences were obvious. He glowed, his hair inverted, his eyes turned green, he had ectoplasm running through his veins, he was cold, he didn’t need to breathe as much in human form—the list went on. 

But the psychological ones were easily more terrifying.

And nothing scared him more than the way his friends and family were treating him as of late.

He knew that deep down he would never be able to match the way he acted when he was fully human. But that didn’t mean that his heart didn’t skip a beat every time someone shot him a worried glance, every time someone asked if he was alright, every time he caught himself doing something wrong. 

He wasn’t human anymore. He wasn’t even sure what he was now, and Vlad seemed to have too much fun emotionally torturing him to give him a straight answer.

“You up for a movie tonight?” Tucker asked, leaning across Danny’s desk. 

“Hell yeah,” Sam said. “My house?”

“Oh, you know me too well. What do you think, dude?”

Danny realized that both teens were looking to him for an answer.

He wanted to stay home. Hanging out with either of them meant there was a chance they would see him slip up, and he couldn’t have that.

“Sure.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too pained.

“Perfect!” Tucker clasped a hand down on his shoulder.

Danny tried not to duck away.

“So we’ll go to Sam’s after dinner. I can bring snacks. Anything you want in particular?”

The thought of eating anything was nauseating. “No. I’m fine.”

“Alright, I’ll just bring the usual then.”

But Danny should have known that something was up. After all, it had been a while since they’d done a movie night. And lately, Sam and Tucker had been acting...oddly. 

Well, that was nothing new. Danny thought that as time went on, they’d forgive him for being a bit jumpier than usual and everything would go back to normal. 

Except, of course, it didn’t.

The past few weeks had been especially hard. It seemed like they constantly had something to say, but never did. The worried glances had only increased, and the silent conversations seemed to only grow.

Danny had been trying his best to act normal, act human, but it seemed like the more he tried, the worse they’d get.

So of course, in between the first movie and second, the elephant in the room finally stomped all over Danny’s metaphorical floor.

“Hey, Danny.” Sam glanced over at Tucker. A moment passed between the two before Sam nodded and turned back to Danny. “We really need to talk to you.”

Dread pooled in his stomach. He knew exactly where this was going. “I can start the next movie if you want?”

“No, Danny. Listen, can you just sit down for a second?”

His ghostly instincts were begging him to run, but his human side forced him to sit down.

“Listen, we know that...well, Jazz told us about the lab accident.”

Danny could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

“She said it was pretty serious? And she was surprised that you hadn’t told us?” Sam fidgeted with her black rings. “We didn’t say anything to you because we wanted you to be the ones to confide in us.”

“That and we didn’t want you to get upset that we were talking to Jazz about you,” Tucker interjected.

“Right, and Jazz only told us because she was worried. And honestly? We’re really worried too.”

Any oxygen left in Danny’s body was sucked out of his throat like a vacuum.

They’d found out. They knew the truth, they knew he was a freak of nature half ghost and they were going to out him, they were going to tell his parents, they’d tell the school counselor, and Danny would have no one and he’d have to run away to become Vlad’s apprentice and he’d change, he’d be corrupted, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

“I’m just wondering why you didn’t say anything?” Sam asked, her violent eyes brimming with concern.

“I…” Danny’s mouth felt like it was lined with cotton. He tried to swallow, but it was like swallowing sand. “I didn’t want you to worry is all.”

“Yeah, and we get that,” Tucker said carefully. “But, I mean, we’re your best friends. And dude, you’ve been...well…”

At Tucker’s helpless glance, Sam took over. “You just have been acting really off lately.”

“Sorry.”

“No!” Sam nearly leapt out of her seat. “Danny, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I mean, hell, if I nearly died in a lab accident I’d be acting off too. It just, you know, it explains a lot. It must have been really terrifying.”

Danny didn’t trust himself to say anything. 

How much of his personality had shifted because of Phantom, and how much had shifted because of the accident? Were his ghostly instincts really creeping up that much into his human form? 

Would he ever be the same again?

Did they know?

“Is there anything you wanna talk about?”

“We’re all ears, dude.”

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t say a word. Not without outing himself as Phantom, and that was bound to backfire on him in the worst way possible.

Oh god, he was acting too suspicious. He needed to save this.

“I’m good.”

There was a beat of silence.

Sam leaned forward. “Danny...I don’t mean to sound like Jazz, but bottling stuff up isn’t—”

“I’m fine!” Danny snapped. “I didn’t say anything and I’m sorry, but you know it’s not every day like you’re nearly electrocuted to death in your parents’ ghost portal.”

“Is that what happened?” Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my god, Danny.”

“Holy shit,” Tucker agreed.

Danny threw his arms out. “Ta da! I survived, I’m fine. Nothing to talk about.”

“Danny, I—”

“No.” His tone was final. “Drop it, seriously.”

Another beat of silence passed, and then Sam finally sighed. “Fine, but I’m telling you as your friend that if you ever need anything, we’re here for you.”

He wished he could have trusted those words. But he knew they were nothing more than a farce.

It would have been cruel to hold onto false hope.

Still, he tried to smile. “Thanks.”

Even though he knew he hadn’t fooled anyone.

---

Maddie’s POV

Maddie watched her son from across the kitchen table, just as she’d done every night for the past several weeks. Quietly, as inconspicuous as possible, always watching.

Ever since the lab accident, he’d been….different. Jack hadn’t noticed, but to Maddie the changes were far too obvious. The dropped spoons, the flash of green behind his eyes, his limbs losing visibility without him even noticing, their ecto-inventions that always seemed to go off around him.

One day, she even saw him walk through his bedroom door.

At first, she thought it was just a simple case of possession. But there were telltale signs of possession, one’s that Jack, for all his enthusiasm, always failed to take into account.

Sure, Danny’s eyes flashed green every so often, but most of the time they were blue. Human blue.

And then there was his personality. In cases of possession, the ghost would be completely controlling the body. But in Danny’s case, he was still very obviously Danny. Still the sweet boy she always knew him to be, but he was just...different. Jumpier. Scared.

Like he knew he was living a lie.

And then, just a few weeks after Danny’s run in with the portal, a new ghost appeared. 

Of course, Maddie didn’t make the connection at first. The ghost was obviously new, and didn’t seem to have a grasp on its powers. Its fighting was laughable, its ectoblasts nearly always missed, and it seemed to constantly forget about its core powers.

Not to mention, its hair was white. Danny had black hair.

But then the ghost gave itself a name: Danny Phantom. And that was when Maddie decided to take a second look at it.

It was Danny’s height and build, its voice sounded similar to Danny’s, it seemed to know all of Danny’s classmates, it used a Fenton thermos, it wore a hazmat suit that looked eerily similar to the ones in their basement closet—not to mention that Danny’s hazmat suit had gone missing recently.

On its own, one small correlation didn’t mean anything. But when the little similarities kept piling up, then Maddie had to draw some sort of conclusion.

Just what was the conclusion though?

The Danny across the table had gone to school like any other human child, he’d eaten his meals like anyone else, he’d hung out with his human friends, he talked with his human family. On paper, he seemed normal.

Human.

But his grades were in a downwards spiral, Jazz had expressed concern about him and his friends, he’d been breaking curfew, and there were times when she’d peak into his room at night to find him gone.

He could have been just experiencing trauma from the accident. Maybe he was rebelling. There were so many explanations for his behavior that didn’t involve ghosts.

But then he’d do something ghostly or a weapon would beep around him or Phantom would fly nearby, and her red flags would be raised once again.

Maddie learned long ago to trust her red flags.

The Danny across the table took a bite of his salad, and his face immediately scrunched up.

Maddie felt sick.

He swallowed, and Maddie could see his eyes watering. “Is there something wrong with the lettuce, Mom?” 

She feigned innocence. “Hmm?”

“I don’t know,” he prodded a carrot on his plate. “Something just seems off.”

“Tastes fine to me,” Maddie said. “I just bought this lettuce today. Jazz, is yours okay?”

“Yeah,” she said.

Maddie suppressed a grin. She could always count on her “facts and research only” daughter.

“It could be the dressing? I used a new brand tonight. It’s healthier than the other stuff.” 

That, or it was the small amount of blood blossoms she’d blended into the vinaigrette. 

“Maybe.”

But it couldn’t end here. She needed to know. She was a scientist, she had to see the experiment through.

“Eat the rest of your salad, honey. I’ll buy the other brand tomorrow, okay?”

Danny carefully put another forkful of salad into his mouth. He gave a small wince, but swallowed. 

“Good boy,” she said. “I have fudge in the fridge for when you’re done.”

“Oh, fudge?” Jack exclaimed. He shoveled the rest of his salad into his mouth. With a mouth full of food, he said, “Thanks, Mads! You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome sweetie!”

Jazz made a face. “Gross, Dad.”

Jack laughed and bantered back at his daughter, but Maddie had already tuned out of the conversation. Her only focus was on Danny, whose face was now just too flushed to be healthy. Still, he forced himself to eat.

There was just no question. No doubt about it.

No matter how Maddie looked at it, this was proof enough.

Danny Fenton wasn’t human. The portal hadn’t nearly killed him, it probably did kill him. And now here he was, pretending to still be a part of the family while using Phantom to distract them from the fact that he was a ghost.

It was a truly elaborate ploy. And if Maddie was anyone else, his plans probably would have worked.

But she was Maddie Fenton. She had a PhD in ectobiology. She’d been researching ghosts for twenty years.

Dinner ended, and the children went upstairs to do homework. Although, if Maddie looked, she was sure Danny wouldn’t actually be in his room. And if she went outside, like she’d done in nights past, there was no doubt she’d see Phantom soaring through the skies.

But she knew. She knew. She knew.

She slipped a white business card out of her jacket pocket, grabbed her cell off the counter, went into her bedroom, and dialed the number. 

It rang once, then twice, then stopped. A deep voice sounded from the other line. “Maddie Fenton? I figured I’d be hearing back from you. Have you made your decision?” 

“Yes.” Her voice was mechanical, as if she’d only called about a malfunctioning weapon. “I have. I agree to the partnership.”

“Excellent. And the terms are to your liking?”

“Yes.”

“Understood. We’ll be in touch tomorrow to sign the official contract. Will your husband be involved in this, or are you working alone?”

Maddie closed her eyes. “The contract will be for my name only.”

“All right, then. We’ll talk tomorrow. You won’t regret this.” 

“I know.”

---

<previous / next>

[holden-caulfield]

s...ongbird (any songs a person sings will get stuck in their soulmate’s head for the duration they decide to sing it). Hii! Hope you're doing well! If it's ok can I get a S with Draco Malfoy? If not, its ok! Thanks anyways!

Hi lovely, thank you so much for your request, really hope you like it!!🥰

(I did write this with the song 'Love Of My Life' by Queen in mind but i think it can work with any sad song really, just ignore the three verses i put at some point!)

Just A Song Away

↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: soulmate au in which one can hear the song the other is singing in their head.

Prompt from this list.

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1711

//

It was strange, really. Draco never heard that song before. It was a rather sorrowful melody and he was sure he had never heard it if not in his head, in that precise moment.

It was melancholic at most, the notes alternating slowly in his mind but he didn't know how they did, the melody completely new to him and nevertheless it was as if he had heard it a thousand times already. Fragile words resounded softly as he desperately tried to think of the origin of the song.

His efforts were all in vain because the song ended just as quickly as it started in his head. The words were always the same, repeating like a tedious lullaby, but never boring.

Oh how he longed to know to whom those words, or better those thoughts, belonged to. He knew that the one singing those doleful verses was his soulmate, that one person that should have been his true love, that one individual that could have accepted him without any judgement, the one that should have loved him unconditionally.

He didn't actually believe in that, he believed those were all lies. At least, that's what he told his friends whenever the topic was brought up: simple disgust evident on his face when dreamy looks were exchanged about soulmates.

He was skeptical and he had his reasons. Who would have loved Draco Malfoy if they knew who he was? The terrible things he had done in the past? And the terrible things he would have done in the future?

No, a soulmate was not possible for someone like him. But he liked to believe. He liked to believe in the eventuality of it, when no one was looking, hope only existing in his deepest thoughts.

The scorn he exhibited towards those who actually, fervently believed in the romantic concept might have been the reason why he didn't even look for his one and only.

The real reason, however, was that he was content this way. Hearing the delicate words in his head was enough for him, the impending prospect of his soulmate actually discovering him was enough to keep him from searching his person.

What made him change his mind, what made him think that maybe, just maybe, he should have begun his research was the sudden change in the periodical words that invaded his head. There were no longer cheerful tunes, instead desolate lines that repeated themselves almost obsessively.

He was worried, worried for someone with no name and no face, only a few sentences that somehow meant more to Draco than anything else. He was worried and he reckoned he could have ended the suffering that was weighing down on his unknown soulmate, but he always chased away those thoughts.

Unlike Draco Malfoy, you very much wanted to find your soulmate and everyone in the whole school had your same idea in mind.

Many tried singing out loud throughout the corridors, hoping that that certain special someone would notice them and finally stop the frantic search.

Others were too shy to actually do that and instead sang to themselves when alone and hoped their soulmate would have been smart enough to figure out who they were.

You weren't so hopeful. No song had been stuck in your head, no melodies, no silly tunes, not even a curt note. The upsetting suspicion you didn't have a soulmate often made his way in your mind, a mind that should have been occupied by songs and not by forlorn ideas.

It was perhaps the growing frequency of those thoughts that made you change musical tastes or maybe your break up. Maybe the latter had lead to the former and, together, they had made you feel undeserving of love.

You knew the guy you were dating wasn't your soulmate, you didn't hear his songs and he didn't hear yours, but a tiny part of you still hoped it was just a mistake, a stupid, silly, sad mistake.

It wasn't. It was inevitable and yet your heart was broken. The only solace you deemed possible was found in music, a new-found low-spirited music.

Wretched, you started listening and frequently humming to your new consolation. No one would have heard it either way.

Your sadness was only amplified by the constant reminder that other students were finding their true love, in the hallways, in classes, even in your dorm since two of your best friends eventually realized they were made for each other.

You felt alone, alone like you never felt before. Your new favourite place quickly became the astronomy tower: it was quiet and reserved, no one actually went there if not for classes since it was the highest place in all hogwarts and no one had the will to go all the way up.

Anyone but you because you had a lot of free time, not having yet found your soulmate to spend some moments with. You often sang in the tower, leaning against the railing with the gentle breeze surrounding you and providing some kind of much needed comfort.

The words you sang were becoming repetitive, particular verses stuck in your head that flowed freely from your lips, coated in honey and tears as they lost themselves in the wind.

Love of my life, you've hurt me

You've broken my heart and now you leave me

Love of my life, can't you see?

Only those words reverberated in your head because your soulmate's surely didn't. If you even had one. Maybe you really didn't, it wasn't as unusual as many thought. However this didn't soothe you in the slightest bit.

How heartbreaking, to know that a person that could love you so deeply, so genuinely didn't exist. For you.

Draco Malfoy felt like you, possibly even worse. He knew this person existed but he knew this person couldn't have loved him for who he was. He was so sure of it and yet he loved this person, whoever it was.

He, too, found solace in the astronomy tower, one of his ever favourite places in all hogwarts. From there, he felt insignificant but it was weirdly comforting to him, knowing that he wasn't that important, no one was in such a vast world.

He liked to sit under the light of the moon and of the starts, listening to the tunes that played in his head. He sometimes thought of repeating them himself, of singing them along with his soulmate, pretending they were together, but always stopped himself before he could.

You were beginning to lose hope, completely. You were resigning yourself to the ineluctable truth. Your heart felt at the same time heavy and light as a feather at the sudden realization, but the desolation that pervaded it never faded.

You strolled along the corridors, it was late and you could have been caught but you couldn't care less at the moment. You began singing, not caring about who might have heard you, maybe the paintings or maybe Filch, earning yourself a detention.

Slowly making your way to the beloved tower, you kept on repeating the same verses of your favourite song of the past few weeks, as if it was a prayer, a tender message you were sure no one would have ever duly appreciated.

Draco was perched on the railing of the tower, head on his arms that were crossed on the cold metal. His gaze lost in the depths of the sky, his head full of the lovely yet dejected sound that he had learned to love and despise.

You kept on making your way towards the stairs of the tower, your steps slow and steady just like your voice, and started ascending them.

Draco listened intently to the tune even though he was very much acquainted with it, the desire to feel close to the person singing it almost unbearable.

You were now halfway up the long flight of stairs and the softest of sounds became audible, a sob perhaps, you couldn't be sure, you had to get closer.

You stopped your singing, climbing the steps so carefully you unconsciously held your breath, but the voice stopped and, with it, you.

You began singing again tentatively, keeping your voice low as you kept climbing the stairs, getting closer and closer to the top. And now you heard something new, something unexpected.

A voice, low, grave and incredibly gentle filled your ears and your head. It was your tune but it was so different. The words were the same, but they sounded so much unalike. They were new just like the sensation you were currently experiencing.

You climbed, ran up the last steps, your singing stopping abruptly and the figure that was once slouched onto the railing turning around alarmed.

Silence filled the space, no words, no songs, no tunes, not even the wind was daring to make a sound, afraid to break the tension that had created.

You didn't dare say a word. What if it wasn't him? But he had to be.

Draco didn't speak, petrified under your gaze. What if it was her? But she couldn't be.

Whispers made their way out of your mouth, delicate, almost inaudible whispers in the form of music.

But Draco heard them. Not with his ears, despite the silence it would have been impossible to hear you, but in his head.

He repeated them louder, but with that gentleness that characterized the voice you had heard moments ago.

Your ears catching the sound that was already playing in your head, sweet and slightly more cheerful than it had ever been.

You could have sworn he had the voice of an angel, that kind of voice that makes you fall in love at the first syllable. His eyes were piercing right through you, showing you that love did in fact exist and that it could be found in those silvery blue orbs.

He could have sworn you were an angel, standing in front of him was the girl he had only imagined for all of this time, your eyes staring at him and burning inside of him, making him forget all of the reasons why he didn't look for you in the first place.

"It's you."

And it was indeed him.

//

This came out slightly longer than i expected and I'll admit I initially planned a rather angsty final, but in the end i went with the fluffy one because who am i to deny draco his true love?

Taglist <3

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[sundayswiththeilluminati]

What Cristabel Did

EXTENSIVE SPOILERS for Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth below. If you haven’t read both books, skip the rest of this post. In fact just get off tumblr and go read them instead. I guarantee they’re better than anything else you’ll find here. 

I think I know why John Gaius didn’t tell his disciples about the perfect Lyctorhood, and I don’t think it had to do with sharing power or with AL. I think it’s the same reason why Augustine and Mercymorn hate each other, why Anastasia was the only one to figure out the Eightfold Word, and why Mercy doesn’t want to hear her cavalier’s name.

tl;dr I think Cristabel and Alfred tried to kill some number of the original disciples, forcing them to try for lyctorhood before the ritual was fully understood, and John kept quiet because he didn’t want to tell them they’d killed their cavaliers for nothing.

The handwritten note at the end of the sermon on cavaliers and necromancers says, “valancy says one flesh one end sounds like instructions for a sex toy. can’t stop thinking about that so can someone stop cris and alfred before the sex toy phrase catches on, thanks.” This early in the Nine Houses’ history the entire concept of necromancer and cavalier is still being figured out. It sounds like Cristabel and Alfred were the main drivers behind the idea of the cavalier-necromancer relationship as a formal, sacred oath, coming up with the phrase “one flesh, one end” in the process. Much much later Silas Octakiseron brands the ritual of lyctorhood a mortal sin and heresy as soon as he hears what it entails, because he treats the cavalier-necromancer bond as a sacrament akin to a holy marriage. To trespass against that bond, he declares, was to sin against the Emperor himself. The sermon before the handwritten note backs up that idea, talking about the combination as having all sorts of profound religious symbolism.

Therefore: what if the disciples were working on the ritual of lyctorhood and hadn’t yet figured the cavalier didn’t have to die, when Cristabel and Alfred decided they had to take action to keep any of them from trying? What if, like Silas in Canaan House, Cristabel decided the idea of the adept killing their cavalier was rank heresy and had to be prevented by any means necessary, and convinced Alfred of it as well? Cristabel was from the Eighth House, though early enough that it may not have taken on its hardline personality - then again, perhaps Cristabel’s actions are why it did take on that hardline personality. Augustine calls her an idiot, but also “a fanatic,” and his own brother someone who “regretted that he wasn’t.”

Augustine says that he became a lyctor “under scrambling pressure,” and when Harrow tells the Emperor that she became a lyctor under duress, he replies, “You aren’t the first.” Then when Augustine is talking to John about Alfred, he says, “I have built an entire myriad on the idea that I could’ve made him come around, given five minutes.” That’s in response to John saying, “No one could make him do anything he didn’t want to.” That could mean either Augustine thinks he could have talked Alfred into willingly dying to perform the ritual, or that he could have talked Alfred out of doing something else dire. The way John phrases it makes me think it’s the latter, because in the context of the conversation they’re discussing Cristabel’s influence, and John knows that the lyctoral ritual can be performed even if the cavalier is unwilling. 

So: Cristabel and Alfred decide that they need to do whatever it takes to keep the other disciples from performing the ritual. Either by accident or design, they put Augustine in a situation where he’s facing imminent death - maybe not intentionally on Alfred’s part, but it happens. Augustine chooses to kill his brother and take in his soul to survive as a lyctor, becoming the first to ascend. This fits with Augustine’s loathing of Mercymorn, who in his mind forced him to murder his brother; of his own immortality, since it was gained at the cost of murdering family; and of necromancy in general. He has to convince himself that he could have talked Alfred into making the sacrifice if there were time to ask because otherwise the guilt will destroy him.

After ascension, Augustine’s probably fighting Alfred’s soul, but he’s a powerful spirit magician. Like Ianthe he may be scattered but he’s still present. So now he rounds on Cristabel and probably mortally wounds her. He means to finish the job but Mercymorn intervenes, alerted to what’s happening by all the chaos. She finds her cavalier dying. Cristabel asks her to avenge her and kill Augustine and, since she’s already dying, to use her soul to do it. Mercy finishes Cristabel off and swallows her soul, becoming the second lyctor. So from the very beginning Mercymorn is absolutely set on Augustine’s death and blames him for Cristabel’s death and, in an indirect way, forcing her to become a lyctor as well.

After that it gets a little fuzzy. Events could go several different ways and we just don’t have enough info. I favor the idea that maybe the rampage continues - or maybe Cristabel and Alfred had set all of them up to be in mortal peril (possibly in space, where an adept’s powers won’t work but a lyctor’s would) - because of Mercy’s quote at Cytherea’s funeral: “I never saw her cry except once. The day after. When we put together the research. When she became a Lyctor. I said, There was no alternative. She said, We had the choice to stop.” Mercy saying “there was no alternative” and Cytherea answering with “we had the choice to stop” makes me think everyone was in duress. Mercy saying, “the day after. When we put together the research,” makes me think that they hadn’t fully pieced together the ritual even though six people had already ascended; Augustine improvised. “The day after” also makes me think that most of the lyctors ascended in a single night. If Augustine through Cassiopeia ascended in a group, only Cytherea and Anastasia would be left. Loveday volunteered for the rite in hopes of curing Cytherea, so that’s a non-distress motive for them to ascend as well. That leaves only Anastasia, who now has plenty of time to figure it out on her own.

Where’s John in all this? Remember what Ianthe said when she was trying to regrow her arm? She thought John would tell her to try it on her own first to build her own skill. Maybe John was letting his disciples work out lyctorhood on their own, expecting that they’d figure out the full ritual in time. If they’d planned to try the imperfect ritual, he probably would have stepped in and said, “No, no one has to die, yes now you’re mad at me because I knew the answer all along but it was a learning experience okay.” But because Augustine had to make a scrambling improvisation, John didn’t get the chance to intervene. So before he can do anything, Augustine and Mercy, plus some number of the middle four, have already killed their cavaliers and swallowed their souls (meaning no resurrection). He’s faced with the choice of telling them that those murders weren’t necessary, or keeping the secret and letting Loveday and Cytherea go through with the imperfect ritual. John tells himself that it’ll hurt them all too much if he tells them they killed their cavaliers for nothing, and Loveday’s willing to die already. He stays quiet.

That leaves only Anastasia. With the benefit of time and the others’ experience, Anastasia realizes the ritual can be done without killing the cavalier. She plays this close to the vest, uncertain of her results and unwilling to traumatize the others unless she’s sure. Just in case she’s right, she bans everyone except John from watching her attempt. If she succeeds and Samael lives, they can figure out how to break it to the others. But something goes wrong - or John sabotages her - and Samael dies, leaving Anastasia thinking she didn’t have it right after all.

A myriad later, John and the other lyctors have yet to allow or invite any other adepts to attain lyctorhood, believing the cost is too high. But now they’re down to four lyctors and three Resurrection Beasts, and those four lyctors are showing the strain. So John invites the heirs and their cavaliers to Canaan House. He knows his first disciples left the necessary information behind to put together the rite - only the imperfect rite, but that’s okay because this time there won’t be anyone making the choice under duress. As he tells Harrow, “I intended for the new Lyctors to become Lyctors after thinking and contemplating and genuinely understanding their sacrifice—an act of bravery, not an act of fear and desperation. Nobody was meant to lose their lives unwillingly at Canaan House.” If the cavaliers are okay with it, he’s not on the hook, he reasons. He’ll keep his secret and get new lyctors without any fresh guilt on his conscience.

Except of course it doesn’t work out that way. As usual, John’s future plans are sabotaged by his past plans coming back to haunt him. He ends up gaining one and a half lyctors at the unexpected cost of one old lyctor, so that’s a net gain of half a lyctor with several heirs dead in the process. And then an even newer plan gets sabotaged by an even older plan, leaving him with one and a half, possibly two functioning lyctors. Meanwhile Camilla and Palamedes are out there probably as a functional lyctor-cavalier pair that he doesn’t know about, because Palamedes has been stuck in freeze-frame hell for long enough to come to the same conclusions as Anastasia. It’s not gonna go well for John, ey?

[adam-banks2024]

Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago. 

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness. 

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say. 

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.” 

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--” 

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.” 

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up. 

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face. 

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path. 

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Temptation (Shigaraki x reader)

Pairing: Shigaraki x gn reader Word count: 2,051 Warnings: noncon, oral (giving), somnophilia, drugging, slight yandere notes: So, this is my first ever 18+ fic. I hope it’s good, I think it is. I honestly surprised myself with how well I did. I also realized while writing it that I could make a gender neutral reader if I wanted to. Though if I were to write more in the future, it would probably be female readers.

~ ~ ~

Tomura is beautiful

you realized. Yes, he was also hot and handsome. But there was just a strange beauty about him that you couldn't deny. Was it his face? His scars somehow adding a different kind of allure? Or was it his hair? You always loved the color. Or was it his eyes? Red that felt as if they were piercing through your soul? Or his body? Or maybe it was just everything.

You actually hadn't realized this until recently. You weren't sure when it started, when you started to notice his attraction. But it was probably when you were all hanging around the bar. Everyone was doing their own thing. Shigaraki was passed out on the couch. The smell of alcohol burned your nose, increasing in intensity when you got closer.

You watched him as he lay there. He was much more relaxed like this. Every other time you had seen him, he'd been tense. Like there was always something on that back of his mind that he was wary of. But there was something odd about this. Something so... peaceful, and vulnerable, about seeing him asleep. You found yourself wishing that Father would evaporate so you could see his whole face.

Your unwavering gaze didn't go unnoticed. Toga asked you what you were doing. You said that you were thinking about drawing on Father and Toga went to go get a marker.

One night you woke up from a nightmare. You weren't sure what you were doing. You weren't sure why you did it. Maybe you had reverted back to your child-like ways, but you went to Shigaraki's room. He must had forgotten to lock the door, giving you the opportunity to slip inside. Your footsteps were quiet. You were sneaky, something Shigaraki always loved about you. Good for stealth and reconnaissance missions.

You had no idea what you were going to do there, but you hoped to find some sort of comfort. One look at his face, and you felt like you'd been sucker punched in the chest. No words could describe how you felt. How he looked. His face on its own was handsome and beautiful, completely uncovered, but the peace on his sleeping face added a whole new level to it. All you could say was that it was angelic. A stark contrast to the devil the media made him out to be.

You were mesmerized, unable to look away. The back of your mind hosted a growing anxiety of what would happen if his red eyes opened. But your wonder outweighed your fear. You so wanted to brush his hair away from his face, your skin gently grazing against his. You wanted to climb into his bed and cling onto him. But you knew better. You weren't that intoxicated by him. Not yet.

You didn't know how much longer you watched before leaving.

It wasn't your fault you kept going back. You tried to resist at first, but you couldn't. You found yourself going back every few nights. Only three times did you gain the courage to stroke his hair. And only once did you ever-so-gently touch the back of his hand. But only once you knew he was in a deep sleep.

No one else would have been able to resist, right? So there was nothing wrong in staring at his beautiful face at night. It filled you with such a calm feeling. Or maybe calm wasn't the right word. Because it filled you with a sort of excitement or joy that you couldn't identify. It melted every ounce of stress right out of you, which was like a precious medicine when you were constantly avoiding heroes. Everyone else would do the same in your situation. You weren't doing anything bad, you were just looking most of the time. No harm. No malice. No wicked intentions.

The only thing that prevented you from going every night, was the fear of getting caught. You couldn't risk being kicked out. You couldn't risk his positive opinion of you. But the feeling, the attraction towards him kept growing.

Once, you had the nerve to carefully pull the sheets off of him. It was a warm night, so he wouldn't wake from lack of warmth. You slowly lowered your hand onto his chest, while readying the other one in case one of his hands instinctively moved onto yours. Your eyes examined him, drinking in the sight. Something grabbed your attention and your breathing hitched.

You saw a bulge between his legs. You licked your lips. Your breathing caught in your throat as you stared. Your heart beat so hard, you could see it beating through your chest. Every nerve in your body seemed to be fixated on it. Your brain wove an image. It would be so easy to pull his clothes down to- no! You couldn't... at least not now. If you did that, he would surely wake up and kick you out of the league of villains. Seeing his subordinate between the legs of their leader, sucking like they hadn't drank in weeks.

You couldn’t, as long as you knew he could wake up.

One day, Toga wanted pancakes, after you had mentioned them in a conversation with her. You let it slip that you knew how to make them. And Toga convinced you to make them for the League of Villains. You learned new recipes, watched videos on cooking. It soon became a normal event for you to occasionally create meals for the league

So no one found it strange when you made dinner that night. No one raised an eyebrow when you separated the food onto each plate. No one noticed when you slipped a sleeping drug into Shigaraki's food.

It had taken a while. Making food often enough so that nothing seemed odd. Doing the research to find a drug that would do what you want. But in the end it was all worth it. Nothing filled you with more triumph than when Shigaraki began eating. None the wiser to what you had put in especially for him. You knew that soon he would start to grow tired. You knew that as soon as he fell asleep, he would sleep like a log. You knew that he would wake up in the morning, maybe feeling groggy, but otherwise feeling like he had a good, long nap.

You could barely contain your joy when he announced he would be going to sleep. Pressing your thighs together and rubbing as discreetly as you could. You waited, until most of the league had left and gone to sleep. You yawned, excused yourself, and snuck into Shigaraki's room.

It was dark, but your eyes quickly adjusted. He was laying there, asleep as he always was. It always gave you a special feeling, but this time there was excitement and anticipation mixed in. The kind that made you want to jump on top of him and kiss him all over.

  Maybe you should have tapped him, checked to make sure he was truly asleep. But you had been patient far too long. Besides, after all of your research on the drug, you were sure he wouldn’t have woken up in a tsunami.

You tore the sheets off, and your eyes fell down that bulge that had tempted you so many times, but you could never have until now. You licked your lips while you cupped the lump. It felt nice. Like it was meant to be there. Your thumb caressing it faster, and faster. You hastily settled yourself between his legs.

You would have liked to feel his cock through his pants a little longer before diving in, maybe actually feel it in your hands, but you had waited too long. You hooked your finger under his waistband and pulled it down until it sprang out. You jumped back like a child scared by a jack-in-the-box. It already had some pre-cum leaking , running down his length and making your tongue instinctively stick out. Your heart skipped, knowing that you already made him this hard.

You lunged forward, your hands on either side of him to hold yourself up. You licked a long line up his cock before taking it into your mouth. It was salty, not quite the flavor you had expected, but you couldn't care less. Almost as a formality, you pulled back and kissed the red tip. Making sure to add a kitten lick before opening your mouth again, swallowing it back down again.

You slid your tongue along the ridges as you bobbed up and down. You tried to take it in as far as you could. You gagged. But you did your best. You could hear your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly forgot to breathe through your nose. And you were loving every second of it as his taste filled your mouth.

You rubbed your thighs together, desperate for some relief. Something to calm the rising need.

His hips bucked into your mouth ever so slightly, causing to sputter. You felt thrilled, honored  that he was enjoying it so much, even when he was asleep.  You sucked harder, determined to make him feel good. Your fingers found their way to his boxers again, pulling the elastic down even further. It was hard with the darkness, but you pulled it down far enough and moved a hand to cup and caress his balls.

You shifted your arm to rest on his leg, to free your other hand to go between your legs. You hastily and clumsily pulled down the clothes concealing your lower half. Exposing your nethers to cool air. You touched it. You were nearly dripping. Your fingers got to work, rubbing and rubbing. Faster and faster, as your body demanded more.

Your moans were muffled by the cock in your mouth. Sending vibrations down it. A small moan reverberated in his own throat. You nearly came when you looked up and saw his sleeping face twisting with pleasure.

You could feel him writhe beneath you, subconsciously thrusting into your stuffed mouth. You were reaching your end too. You were close. Not long now. Not long now. Every atom in your body screamed and begged for it.

He suddenly stilled. You could feel it. Thick ropes painting the back of your throat, spurting into your mouth. Your face felt warm. It was enough to push you over the edge. You trembled as pleasure tore through you. How good it felt was the only thing you could think about. You forgot to breathe through your nose and the lack of air made your mind go numb.

Your breath was shaky once it was over. Excess cum dripped from your mouth. You licked up any that fell on Shigaraki’s skin. You were glad that your pants and panties were still at your thighs. You hadn’t considered the mess you would make and they were catching all of it as it dribbled down your legs.

You pulled your pants back up. You still trembled from the after-tremors of your orgasm, as you forced yourself up. You didn’t want to leave, all you wanted was to curl up next to his body and fall asleep. But then he would wake up, and you didn’t want to answer why you were sleeping next to him.

But maybe if you hugged him for just a second…

You carefully lowered yourself next to him and wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his neck. It was so comforting. Like a warm blanket on a cold day. It took almost all of your willpower not to fall asleep. It was amazing. You stared back up at his sleeping face. He was beautiful.

You crawled up and kissed him. On the cheek, then on his lips. You couldn’t help it. Such a sweet gesture after doing something so naughty filled with you a strange sensation. It was only later when you realized and wondered if that was his first kiss.

With reluctance, you got up. You were satisfied. You already made him and yourself cum. The thought of impaling yourself on his length only barely crossed your mind. No, simply being able to taste him was enough. And you weren’t bold enough for that.

At least not yet.