Price Gesturing To The Burnt Porridge: So Tell Me About It

Price gesturing to the burnt porridge: So tell me about it

Y/N: Started to make it.. had a break down- bon appetite

The Most Humane Monsters

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Yandere!Mold Ethan Winters x GN!reader

Summery: Childhood friends of Ethan Winters you watch as the blond man grow into a fine adult, someone caring and devoid of any malicious capabilities. As time grows you soon realize that you love the adorably dumb man, Ethan was everything in your eyes. So when he marries another person by the name of Mia it tore you to pieces, especially when you come to learn her true nature. Cruel, manipulative, and cold, safe to say you hated her in every way. Regardless, Ethan loved her whole heartedly and you did your best to support him. One day Mia goes missing from her "babysitting job", days turn to week, and week to months, Ethan was a wreck from the anxiety. And despite all feelings for Mia and for Ethan you buried them alive, stepping in as the supportive friend Ethan always knew you as. Apparently that was not enough as without any notice Ethan was gone, out on an adventure to save his wife. This left you alone with no idea of what happened to the man you loved, left alone for weeks and months. Just you and your thoughts.

That is until Ethan returned, changed by the experiences in more than just emotional trauma.

Tags: Heavy Angst, some fluffy moments, yandere themes (lighter side), Ethan being turned into a mostly mindless mold monster, character violence, mentions of abuse, jealously, mentions of depression and eating disorder, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers (?)

Please don't like my posts, if you like and want to support me as a writer do not like. Instead reblog, comment, or just leave a nice message in my inbox. Likes are discouraging writers from writing; there is more info for people who are interested here.

So much time passed ever since Ethan ghosted you, you just hoped he was happier now. Slowly you started to move on, eating again. Going to therapy, seeking help and bringing the colour back to your life. It wasn't easy by any means, certainly not cheep either. Damn American healthcare. But for once in your life things were just okay, to most that wouldn't even be close to a quality of life but for you it was improvement. The best type of improvement where things were just good enough for you not to be in constant misery. It surprised you, but you were indeed moving on. You even started to date again, met a few people that were nice but it wasn't the same as Ethan.

It would never be the same.

Obviously things were still pretty difficult but you did the only thing you could do, take it a moment at a time. After a lot of thinking you planed to move, maybe a fresh start will finally stop reminding you of Ethan. You weren't just planning to move state but country, somewhere you can just wipe all those little shops that reminded you of your past away. All the bars with his favourite beer, or the nerdy comic book shops, gone.

You took a deep breath in, you were going to be alright. You already found a new place across the borders thanks to a friend and now you just needed to pack and pull out your emergency funds, you'll figure out work when you get there. Let the wind pull you were you need to go, maybe your friend across the border would advise you somewhere. Either way you were still pretty young and you could do it, the business maybe being the thing to finally stopping all your thoughts of Ethan. It was a dark night as heavy rain fell against your window, it sounded like it was trying to break the glass. Looking at the weather report it said there was an atmospheric river, a.k.a a few days of heavy rain. You didn't mind, it would give you time to re-write you resume, you last boss gave you a really nice reference and you intended to use that to its full extent. Prepare to write your application to the new house you were going to move to, start to organize all the things you need to pack, budget. You stretched before sitting down at your computer and started typing, calm music in the background to help you focus. Maybe a few hours passed before thunder struck in the distance, lights flickered before it all turned off. You screamed as all your progress has been lost, maybe if the gods were merciful enough your program auto-saved not too long ago. Either way your power was completely out, maybe this was just a message for your work to be finished today. It was already 7:30 pm and you haven't even eaten dinner yet, standing you fumbled in the pitch darkness for your flashlight. Finally finding it only to discover its dead batteries, cursing you pulled open a drawer with pillar candles. These would have to do, lighting them it was enough. Collecting them you started placing them around the kitchen area and one by one you lit them with the one in your hand. In a strange way this made you happy, a little romantic moment for yourself. Maybe you could make a nice fancy soup, some fresh bread, then take a warm long bubble bath and go to sleep at ease.

Self care.

You hummed at the idea as another strike of thunder echoed in the distance, you were glad you were inside. As much as you loved the rain if you were to go out there right now you would be soaked to your bone marrow in the icy needles down pour, anyone out there for more than a few minutes could get hyperthermia. Its late fall almost winter at this point, nights got close to -1 C often hovering around 0 C- 5 C. Disregarding your thoughts you started with your soup, chopping onions, carrots, celery and other veggies, pan frying meats before adding them to the broth you made. Humming a small tune as you moved back and forth in your warm house, peacefully oblivious to the person who opened your front door. Despite it being locked they knew exactly where you kept your spare, quietly they walked the halls with their muddy boots still on. Silently down towards the living room before turning to the dining room with the open kitchen. The figure stood behind you at a distance, just silently watching you as you hummed and cooked.

The tasteful aroma filling the house, gods was he hungry. When was the last time he eaten? Slept? Done anything aside from walk?

He was just glad he was home again.

You felt a draft suddenly wash over you, was the house always this cold? You turned curious before screaming and dropping your wooden spoon, there was a figure of what looked like a man in the darken dinning room. Just standing there, staring. Looking down the hall you saw your front door open, the dark blue outside with inky black drops pouring from the sky. Muddy foot prints trekked by this 'guest', like there was any suspicion that it wasn't the figure who made them. How did they get in though, you lock your door, you always locked your door! Looking at this figure you couldn't see them clearly with the low light, but they were dirty, very dirty. Covered in what looks to be a black mud? It coated their clothes and body, hands completely black and continuing up to their elbows were it slowly transitioned back to pale white skin. They looked like a ghost with how pale they were, a ghost with a black gradient of mud. They were wearing kaki office pants and mud covered boots, but strangely a brown mud. What once was a white shirt with the same mix of brown and black mud, you eyes trailed back to the figures hand to see a single key in it.

Oh, that's how they got in.

You were completely frozen in fear, they found your spare key?

The figure didn't move either, just standing and staring at you. What did they want, why were they here, how did they know where you kept you spare key? A flash of lightning illuminates the room for a split second and it gave you enough time to see the stranger's face, Ethan Winters.

Audibly you gasp before moving slightly closer, "Ethan?"

There was no response as he stood there, "Is that you, you're freaking me out!"

Slowly Ethan walked towards you and you felt your heart leap in your chest, something was wrong, clearly wrong. The man looks like he's been through hell and back, dirty, grimy, hair a mess and clothes beyond ruined. What the hell happened to your old friend- ex friend.

Slowly he walked until he was in front of you and all you could do is stare into his face, towering over you never before have you felt threatened by Ethan but now you were. Gods were you scared, has Ethan lost his mind, was he here for revenge or something? The dim candle light finally caught onto his face you could see the calm almost solemn expression, a type that you figured originated from a sort of relived exhaustion. You watched as Ethan slowly reached between you arms to turn off the stove before leaning down to embrace you, you still felt so paralyzed and yet still you eased into it. All those years of working on your feelings breaking through to the front again, seeing Ethan clearly in some form of distress just opened the flood gate.

Against his chest you could smell almost a mildew scent, that along with the one that comes from having clothes in storage for too long. Underneath that you could barely smell that warm musky scent that you loved so much, buried under what hell Ethan had to live through.

Slowly you pushed away from his embrace to look up at Ethan, "What happened to you Ethan?"

You were met with more silence, peeking between his arm you saw the door was still open and letting in the cold air. You went to squeeze out of his embrace to close it went he suddenly tightened his arms again, you let out a surprised squawk not expecting such an action. "Ethan, I need to close the door." You voice was quiet as if not to scare him.

Almost reluctantly Ethan let go and you made you way down the hall, closing and locking the door. You turn around to see Ethan looming right behind you which causes you to yelp in fright again, how many times was he going to jumpscare you? "Jesus, personal space."

He didn't reply again, something was seriously wrong with Ethan. It was like he was confused and in auto pilot, following you around like a lost dog. You looked down at his hand and still saw Ethan was holding the key, "Here, why don't you give that to me?"

You reach for the key as Ethan followed you with his eyes, still gripping it you carefully open his fingers to take it before setting it on a table in the mudroom. Ethan's hand instinctively grabs onto yours as the only thing he was holding into was taken away, that same black mud now coating your hands.

"You must be freezing, I think I have some spare clothes for you to wear. Maybe you can take a hot shower to warm yourself up first, get that dirt off of you at the same time." You were met with that same soft blank stare as Ethan continued to look through your eyes, it was slightly unnerving.

"Take off your shoes, I can help you with finding some clothes first." The tall man obeyed, still dripping wet you pulled him down the hall towards your bathroom. You lead him inside before holding your hand out signaling to 'wait here' before opening your drawers to find some spare sweat pants and an oversized shirt, only then did you noticed that black substance on your hand. It was strangely warm, like if you were touching someone's skin. You walked back to the washroom, past Ethan and to the sink where you turn on the water, Ethan slowly walked over to continue to loom behind you.

"What is this stuff anyways?"

No reply.

"It's weird and sticky, warm too."

Ethan still made no move besides looking down at you, you caught his stare through the mirror and felt a shiver ripple down your spine. "You should probably wash that gunk off too."

More echoing silence pierced the air between you two, Ethan was clearly not functional at the moment and you needed to help him through whatever happened. You took his hand and put it under the warm water, scrubbing it with your own trying to get as much as that substance off. It was surprisingly difficult, yours came off easier than Ethan's though. You suppose it was because it was on him longer, Ethan didn't seem bothered at all and was still trying to hold you as you scrubbed. Eventually it seemed like his hands were clean but they were still pitch black, the only way you knew they were 'clean' was by the fact you no longer could feel that weird texture of the mud.

"I guess that's good enough for now, why don't you take that shower now. You must be freezing." Tender eyes stared down at you before Ethan nodded, he was cold. So cold.

You turned on the water before leaving the room to find him clothes again, meanwhile Ethan couldn't help but feel anxious at your leave. He wanted to open the door and find you, Ethan really hated the idea of being alone again. He doesn't remember much but what he does remember was the feeling of being so lonely and scared, lonely and scared for too long. Somewhere cold, damp, dark. Gunshots and screams. Black mold.

Ethan opened the door and walked towards the other that was half opened, pushing the door open annouced his presence as the hinges screamed in a long winded protest. You turned with a oversized band tee in your hands, confused. "Ethan, what are you doing?"

"Is the water too hot or something?"

You were met with more silence as the man slowly walked towards you again, embracing you and keeping you against his chest.

"Ethan, I know your cold, I can feel you shivering. Go take a shower, you'll feel much better after." The man still didn't move.

"Come on, I can help you get the water right." That seemed to do the trick as Ethan released you, leading back towards the washroom.

The water was still running, fogging up the mirror and area. You put you hand under to find it perfectly warm, maybe a little on the cooler side if anything. "The water is nice, I don't see anything wrong with it."

Still Ethan just stared at you, "Go on, feel."

You urge the man, he squeezes himself past you to put his arm under and doesn't react much to it. Backing away you start to leave but get caught by Ethan again, eyes telling you something you couldn't quiet understand.

"What, I'm leaving so you can shower." Voice smooth and small as if not to startle him, Ethan shook his head to your answer.

"You don't want to shower?" Ethan shook his head again.

"No, do you not want me to leave then?" He nodded.

A part of you wanted to protest, this was all so strange but it was apparent the man was traumatized. Leaving him alone would probably only cause more unesscary anxiety, setting aside your own feelings you turned your back and faced the wall. "Okay, I'm looking away so you can undress."

The sound of rustling clothes filled the air as you focused on it, you stood still against the wall trying your best not to see anything. The water's sound became slightly quieter as Ethan stood under the water, you could hear a sign of relief. Moving away you sat down on the sink and allowed Ethan to take his time cleaning, enjoy the warm water and not worry about anything else.

"The clean clothes are on top of the toilet with a towel, I can take your dirty clothes after.". Much to your surprise, Ethan hummed in response acknowledging you, a little progress.

Whenever Ethan found you got too silent for his liking he would poke his head out to check you were still there, and every time you would give him a comforting smile. It didn't take long for Ethan to get clean, taking all the black gunk off of his hair and skin leaving hind stains in his skin. At least his soft blond hair was back, Ethan did feel much better now warmed up.

When you saw his pale leg come out of the shower you quickly turned to face the wall, Ethan could've least given you a warning. You don't understand why he decided to step out of the shower to dry and get dressed, but at this point you were not going to question him.

"Are you hungry?" You asked still facing away from the man.

"I still have the soup I made, its probably still warm." Ethan snaked his arms around you and rested his face on your shoulder, you could feel him nod against your skin. God was he so affectionate right now, was it because he needed comfort or another reason? You didn't know.

"Come on, its downstairs. I know I am starving."

Ethan followed you as you lead him back to where you found him, sitting him at the dinner table before turning to grab a bowl. Toasting some bread and setting it down for the man you watched as he tore into it like a starving animal, maybe he was one. Sitting across from Ethan you noticed the black stain on his limbs, surprised that they did not wash off. What was that mud?

"Did the mud not come off?" Ethan stops his messy eating to stare at you curiously.

"The black on your skin, is it a colouration or something else?" The man dropped his spoon as he turned to look at his arms like it was the first time he noticed the difference.

You sat there in silence as anxiety bubbled in your stomach, did Ethan not even realise he was covered in whatever that was?

"Does it hurt?" You finally spoke again, and he shook his head.

"Maybe we should get that checked out, I can call a doctor." Ethan shook his head again this time with a more stern and serious expression.

"What if it is a type of necrosis, like something eating your skin and flesh. If we can treat it early we could prevent damage before it happens."

Ethan suddenly slammed his hands on the table causing you to jump at the sudden noise, he didn't seem to like that answer. As Ethan saw your tension he calmed down, he didn't want to scare you. Furthest from it, he almost got up to comfort you but you spoke before he could. "Okay, then maybe another day." Hands up trying to show innocent intent.

You didn't eat much, having enough to satiate you. Ethan on the other hand ate both his and your own portion, you knew he always had a larger appetite than you but it surprised you. Once finished he looked at you with a happy smile, he must have felt better now with good food in his system.

"Feeling better?" Ethan nodded

One part of you wanted to ask Ethan what happened but you also knew he would need time, maybe tomorrow morning would be better. "Are you tired?"

Ethan nodded

"Well there is the spare room, you can rest there." Ethan got up and started to walk down the hall, quickly you took the bowls and placed them in the sink to deal with later. Trailing behind Ethan as he went towards the bedroom, instead of turning to the spare room he went straight into yours. "Wait, Ethan!"

You jogged after him only to find Ethan already crawling into your bed, "Ethan, this is my room." He didn't respond as Ethan further tucked himself under.

"That's my bed!" You raised your voice a little louder and indignant but still no response from the man.

You huffed out your nose in annoyance, "Okay, I guess I will take the guest bed then."

Like incantations to a spell it worked its magic as Ethan sprung into life once more, a darkened arm jumping out from the covers to grasp onto you and pull you back with him. You ended up falling on top of Ethan with a frightened yelp, the man under you smiling gently like how you remembered him doing. Well one thing was for sure, Ethan was defiantly better than how you found him. But why he was acting this way was beyond you, sure its probably a trauma thing that he doesn't want to be alone but this felt different. You couldn't put your finger on it right away, and frankly you were too happy with Ethan being back in your life that you probably brushed most red flags away.

By now Ethan tightened his arms around your middle and now was slowly rolling the both of you to your sides, nuzzling in and relaxing it was clear he was about to go to sleep. You allowed this to happen, it seemed so harmless, confusing sure but ultimately harmless. Ethan was always a more physically affectionate man, even with his friends he liked to show that he cared for them. Either way maybe tomorrow morning thinks would be cleared up, by then maybe Ethan will be able to talk again. You were too tired

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2 years ago

The Most Humane Monsters

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (WIP)

Yandere!Mold Ethan Winters x GN!reader

EDIT: I was going to do this as one massage oneshot but after checking the word count (5889) I think it would be better to break it down, don't want a repeat of Stay With Me. Therefore this will be the first part.

That is until Ethan returned, changed by the experiences in more than just emotional trauma.

Please don't like my posts, if you like and want to support me as a writer do not like. Instead reblog, comment, or just leave a nice message in my inbox. Likes are discouraging writers from writing; there is more info for people who are interested here.

Late light illuminated the hallow room of your bedroom, an auburn colouration of the dim light painted the side of your face as you stared at the celling. By the Gods so much has happened, you don't even know how it all arranged in the way it did. Like the natural chaos of pulling threads of a rug, it unfolded everything taking the neat patterns and pristine image made of a thousand little strands carefully weaved.

The slight pull of a inky black arms grounds from your thoughts, encasing your waist in a comforting matter you turn to face the man who owns them. Sound asleep, like a delicate angel despite his current... disfigurement.

Ethan Winters could never be dirtied in your eyes, he was always beauty to you.

Many months earlier, news of the greatest misery for Ethan cursed his ears. Mia was missing, all the man knew is that she went overseas to 'babysit' some rich spoiled brat. You didn't buy that bullshit story for one second, Ethan on the other hand the story was a hook-line and sinker. It blackened your light heart even more than this blood-feud of jealousy Mia caused you. How could such a perfect man end up with such a horrible woman?

How cruel were the gods?

You thought that Mia was going overseas to sleep with other men, sugar daddies or something along those lines. It seemed to fit her character, especially when she would 'work' for days on end and not even tell Ethan. The amount of times he'd call you in an anxious panic asking for your advise.

"should I call the police?", "What if she's hurt and not contacting me because of that?!". The echo of the fearful words reverberated in your mind like a hollow cave, every time you would have to calm down Ethan from jumping off the rails. Ethan was never the fearful or anxious type, but there was one thing about those he loved and that was protective and giving to a self-sacrificial fault. The perfect combination for someone who was manipulative and the 'taker' in a relationship. You hated every time Ethan retelling the newest issue with Mia, how even before they got married there were so many issues. And despite all of that he stayed with her, Ethan was so forgiving and blind with 'love' that he didn't see the countless red flags or your disapproval. You tried your best to gently lead him to his own conclusion of how abusive Mia was but Ethan never did, for a man so smart he was also so fucking stupid. The breaking point was when Ethan called you about Mia being cold and snappy at him again, this time she worked for an entire week without ever coming home or telling Ethan where she went. Then when she got home avoided Ethan completely like he wasn't even there, you were reminded of how Ethan could barely articulate himself through snot-filled tears.

Full ugly crying, hick-ups included.

She wouldn't even let Ethan touch, hug, or kiss her. This, as unfortunate as it is was "normal" behavior, what finally pissed you off is when Ethan told you when he went to hug her anyways because he was so thankful Mia was back unharmed, she scratched him across the face. Years, upon years broke out in less than minutes as you finally spilled out all the hate you had for that woman. Going from a silent ear that listened to Ethan occasionally offering physical comfort and advise, to spouting how abusive Mia is and how she has been taking advantage of Ethan for YEARS! No longer could you try to delicately allow Ethan to come to his conclusion, he needed a reality check. Now.

But as fate has it the opposite affect happened than what you were aiming for, Ethan became defensive which caused you to become for offensive and reticule Mia even more. Ethan dug his heels and defended her actions tooth and nail, which caused you to get more frustrated and angry. This soon turned into a full argument where the both of you were crying as you yelled at each other, you desperately wanting Ethan's safety- emotionally and mentally, while he wanted you to stop slandering his wife!

In hindsight you should have seen this coming, of course going out with teeth and claws was going to cause Ethan to become defensive and therefore do Mia's work of legitimizing her abuse. Regardless of innocent intentions the actions had consciences, negative ones. Ethan yelled at you to leave his house at once, heart broken and frustrated you obeyed out of respect of your friendship. Ethan didn't talk to you for weeks, what used to be a bright and bubbling friendship with the two of you talking almost every break turn into agonizing radio silence. You waited by the phone just hoping he finally understood what you mean, harshness and all, and come to... say anything. Apologize was not the right word, just validate your words or at the very least say he didn't hate you.

But Ethan never did.

Weeks turned and passed like breaths in the vastness of unwavering time, taken and gone.

You knew what you had to do and you fucking hated it, but it was for Ethan. Always for Ethan. Picking up for your phone after another sleepless night you opened and started texting him,

Hey, 8:34am

Do you have time to talk? 8:35am

You stared into the screen as the moments passed by, moments into minutes. Minutes that made another string of silent tears slipping through your closed eyes, pressing your forehead against the glass screen of your phone silent praying to every deity you know by name for something, fucking anything.

Nothing.

There was nothing else you could do, nothing but wait. You didn't want to get up out of bed, you didn't want to get dressed, and you most certainly didn't want to bother bathing or eating anything. But this would be the fifth time already if you ignored all basic needs, with lead in your heart and tips of your limbs you swing your body into action, using their own heavy weight to start the motion. Groggily you start to move towards the bathroom, turning the water to a boiling hot temperature before removing your clothes and standing under the water. The hot water felt like it was melting the matts and knots inside your flesh and bone, leaning your face right into the stream stung but felt nice at the same time. Your phone played music as you washed yourself, taking the scrubby trying to get the weeks worth of anxiety sweat and depressive neglect out.

The music is interrupted for a moment which you didn't may much mind to, engrossed in the enveloping sensation of warmth of your ever-cold soul. However, once you did step out you check your phone and saw a single message from Ethan.

I don't want to talk. 9:15am

Quickly your fingers start typing as water still dripped of your naked body.

Please Ethan, I want to apologize 9:17am

In person 9:17am

You bit your lip in anxiety as you waited for a response, you just got his attention and if you lost Ethan now you would never forgive yourself. Losing Ethan because of your lack of control when it came to Mia, if your friendship ended this way you would never forgive yourself. Your phone pinged.

Okay, I can talk 10am before work 9:19am

You collapsed by the sink as tears of joy started to fall, water pooled around you as you stayed down. So much anxiety, relief, stress collecting and releasing all at the same time. You were going to set this straight or at the very least try.

10am rolled around and you stood in front of Ethan's house having the same dread building inside since the text, this was it. You already wanted to break down and cry but you can't, not yet. You needed to be strong and face this, for Ethan.

Three strong knocks to the door echoed out and the silence was painful as you waited, slowly the sounds of footsteps came muffled from inside until they were at the other side of the door. Slowly the door opened to a solemn looking Ethan, you smiled meekly before greeting him. He didn't respond, obviously Ethan was still pissed at you and it shattered you more. Already so close to breaking,

He steps aside and allows you to come in, taking your jacket in the process you set it on a chair before speaking. "Don't worry, I wont stay long. I just need to apologize and I'll be out of your hair."

Ethan didn't respond, just stood where you could only see his back. You mind echoing and circling with all the most negative thoughts, like a stream that couldn't end. A dam with a crack that turned into the tsunami that came crashing on the unexpecting town, unable to do anything but watch and death approached with a speed that was impossible to outrun.

Ethan sat down on the couch and stayed silent, you cleared your throat and opened your bag to uncover your gift. A loaf of bread.

"It the rosemary garlic sour dough you like, I figured I'd have to come with a peace offering at least." You smiled timidly again as Ethan's eyes scanned you again, there was something going on behind then and the worst part was you had no idea of what it was.

Awkwardly you set the still warm loaf on the coffee table and sat down, "I came here to apologize, that much is obvious so I'll just start."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry being an asshole of a friend, I'm sorry for slandering your wife and worse yet in a time that's already so stressful for you." You start the long winded apology, staring at the ground too scared to see what Ethan is expressing during it all.

"I know you know I don't exactly have the best of feelings towards Mia, and as your friend I should be setting that aside because she's your wife. If she makes you happy then that's what matters." There was a moment of silence as that same anxiety burned black in the bottom of your heart, you knew the next part wasn't going to be easy.

Ethan went to say something but stopped as you continued, "But that's not the only thing I came here to say, I feel like you deserve a little more than that. You deserve an explanation."

"I've known you for so long Ethan, and the truth is I've had a crush on you since graduation of highschool. As the years went by that crush turned into love." You finally turned to face the man, he had this vacuumous look on his face.

"When you married Mia I was bitter, jealous. Still am. I did my best to support you while hiding my feelings and well, you know how well that went." Your voice started to waver.

"The point of telling you this is not to guilt trip you or make you feel worse but rather to just get it off my chest. I know how awkward it is to have your friend around when you know they have feelings for you, especially when your wife is not far away. So if you want to end our friendship because of it I won't blame you, I won't fight it, I'll go and you don't have to feel any guilt."

"But its your decision, I just ask you do me the common curtesy of telling me."

Silence screamed between the two of you.

"That's all I wanted to say," You start to stand, pull your coat and bag from the chair you set it on and opened the door. For some reason you stopped and almost turned back to Ethan but you stopped yourself halfway, one part of you wanted to say goodbye knowing fully well this might be the last time you ever see the man you loved. Another part told you already said enough, to say anything else would be more cruel.

So, you didn't.

You silently closed the door behind you and walked down the pavement back to your car, got in closed the door and drove off. Silence filled the air and nothing beyond the constant rubble of the vehicle was heard, only by the time you were halfway home did the tears start.

And they did not stop.

There was nothing on your end for weeks, you assumed Ethan took the logical conclusion and ended your friendship.

Only he didn't tell you anything,

'That's fine, its understandable' you lied to yourself. The deep depression you fell into begged otherwise, it was the only voice of truth in your ever-spiral of lies. You woke up, got dressed, sometimes bathed, ate the most pathetic breakfast, went to work, got home, and stayed in bed until you fell asleep. Often skipping dinner you lost a lot of weight, quickly, unhealthily. Other people at work complimented you on that unhealthy habit, saying you look so good because of it and that you weary complexation was just a 'adjustment period' of you diet. Because clearly you were on a diet and not starving yourself because you were in the deepest depression you have ever been in your life. One part of you was so bitter at the at the mouth-breathing morons around you, all praising your clear withering body because of their equally abusive mindsets. The other part so engrossed in your misery that you can't even expend the energy further than a rough sigh through the nose before going back to that chaos.

Meanwhile with Ethan he thought about your words, all the little puzzle pieces that he never bothered to look at before finally fell together to finish the image. It all made sense suddenly. He wanted to say something, talk to you and tell you he still likes you. Ethan still wanted you around and be with him, but he couldn't say anything yet because his own guilt eating himself alive. This entire time you supported Ethan with his issues with Mia and never once spoke of how you felt, his own best friend in love with him and he was talking about his relationship issues. Ethan wanted to punish himself for all the years he made you suffer in this misery, in silence. What was it, since highschool? That means you've been suffering for thirteen- fifteen years?

Gods, Ethan felt horrible.

Thinking of your words during the argument made so much sense now, and the worst part was that Ethan was finally starting to understood what you meant by Mia 'not being the best person'. This entire time Mia was mistreating him and Ethan was so engrossed with having the 'perfect' life that he never saw it, he just wanted to have a happy family he willingly ignored it. Tears started to pour out but for a different reason,

More time passed as weeks grew longer, that was went he finally received a message from Mia. At first he was so thankful but then Ethan reminded himself of everything he learnt- or rather finally discovered, but she was in trouble. It was an email with nothing more than a video where she talked to the camera clearly dirty and terrified, despite everything Ethan still felt a little love for her. He didn't want to see this woman suffering, he wanted to save her. Ethan finally came to a conclusion, he would go out to help Mia with whatever is going on. Once things settled down he'd devoice her and then talk to you, Ethan didn't know what else after that but he knew that he wanted to still be with you. Not that he had much time to think about it as Ethan quickly packed his bags and got ready to return to Louisiana.

Things never went as plan did they, being captured by the Baker family, Mia going psyco on him, the infection, the mold. The entire time though all Ethan could think about was you, how you were always there. When he was sick and Mia was out 'working' you'd come over and offer some soup you made, it was always delicious. When he was bed ridden you stay and help out so he could recover, listen to him mope and whine, then sleep on the couch. You were always there to celebrate his promotions as a software engineer, take him out drinking and do what he wanted to. Be the shoulder for him to cry on.

Ethan wanted to make things right again.

@thatgoblin @piers-wifey @starblazer124 @sebbytheraccoon @chaoticlovingdreamer @notgalaxii @germvity @sirpeanutthethird @clusterfuck-yandere @frogge-lol

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2 years ago

actually no one is allowed to make fun of transmasc names anymore. i dont care if it's a 13 year old trans boy named after his favorite cartoon or whatever you're not allowed to make fun of trans guys' names

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2 years ago

can we have more hcs w young!reader :o they were so cute, do u think you could write like sparring w them or something, ty!!

✎ of course omggg <3 i love this concept whenever i see anyone else write this kind of thing with platonic young reader i eat that shit up !!! also merry christmas and happy last day of hannukah to all who celebrate!!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, written with 19 y/o reader in mind, all platonic relationships, fluff, young!reader is stereotypical gen z kinda, this is probably the most light-hearted thing i've ever written but there's separate angst at the end because i can't stop myself, as usual it's not really proofread

Can We Have More Hcs W Young!reader :o They Were So Cute, Do U Think You Could Write Like Sparring W

♡ so of course it takes awhile for you to come out of your shell around the rest of the 141. the previously youngest one of the group, kyle, is 7 whole years older than you, so it's a bit awkward at first.

♡ but once you're comfortable around them, you let your guard down a little and start letting your "regular" personality show instead of the "work" one. this involves bouncing-off-the-walls levels of energy and constant jokes and references that only kyle gets, and that's only sometimes. the other three guys just exchange a look and move on.

♡ you're constantly doing little dances and just fidgeting around, playing with anything you can get your hands on and always bouncing a leg (also never actually sitting like a normal person, price doesn't understand how you're comfortable most of the time). once, when it was just you and soap, you taught him a dance he thought looked fun, but made you promise to never tell anyone else. you told ghost as soon as you saw him next, and that was the first time you ever saw ghost smile (under the mask, of course, but you could tell).

♡ you don't really respect the more "arbitrary" boundaries; you would randomly take food off of the other guy's plates without asking and you always had to be invading someone's personal space. after lots of scolding and you acting like they were denying you a fundamental human right, they learned that it really was easier to just accept it and give up. you don't take food from ghost's plate, because you may be a little dumb sometimes but you aren't stupid. sometimes he shoves his leftovers in your direction if he notices you aren't eating as much that day.

♡ when you aren't terrorizing one of the 141 members, they keep an eye on you while you focus on whatever your latest interest is with an intensity that they'd only expect from you on actual life-or-death missions. it always causes soap some actual concern for you, but you just think it's because he can't sit still, ever.

♡ once, after you had all returned from a mission, you went into your room to shower, came out, got something to eat, then went into your room and proceeded to spend the next 3 days completing the newest pokemon game. full pokedex, awesome outfit, full level 100 team, you had it all, and you proudly shoved the switch screen in their faces to show them your achievements once you deemed yourself done. they learned you were a perfectionist pretty early on, while they took turns checking on you every few hours.

♡ you'll do the thing of casually dropping something horrible that happened to you into a conversation, as if it was just some silly thing that happened the other day. they all just kind of do a double take, because none of them actually talk about that stuff. you just look up from whatever app you were absently fiddling with on your phone and wonder why everyone went quiet; they just move on, as usual.

૮ ’• ˕ •` ა here, have some sparring headcanons now!

♡ when you and ghost sparred for the first time, you swore up and down he was out to break every bone in your body. he told price that it was the easiest he'd went on a recruit in years (he did also say you did much better than he expected). despite your complaints, you got back up every single time he knocked you on your ass, and you quickly adapted to the way ghost fought. you still didn't win a single round, but that was more of a him-being-really-big thing.

♡ soap only goes easy enough on you to not break any bones, but it doesn't take much to get him fired up, and sparring is no exception. you spend the entire session on the defensive, just trying to keep yourself all intact. you always lecture him that you aren't the actual goddamn enemy before you spar with him now while he rolls his eyes and says you're being dramatic.

♡ kyle claims he isn't going easy on you but everyone knows he is. he can't help it; usually he doesn't care that much when he accidentally actually hurts someone when sparring, but the thought of leaving a scar on you rubs him the wrong way. he doesn't ever tell anyone this, but everyone sees how he always acts like an older brother to you.

♡ you only actually spar with price once, mostly as a joke, after you're all more acquainted. you're acting all cocky, basically just saying he's old and you'll put him in the retirement home a couple years early. you're on your back in less than five seconds with him looking down at you, a loud laugh booming out of his chest.

♡ one time, ghost must have been sick or something, because the match ended with you making what would have been the killing blow in a real fight. you had stared in amazement at your achievement, then started yelling at the other guys to ask if they had seen what you had done. ghost let you have your victory, finding your astronomical excitement funny (on the inside, of course).

♡ kyle is your easiest target. usually he doesn't even want to spar with you anymore, because he knows you'll probably end up throwing him to the ground with your full strength and saying you don't need to go easy on him, he's a grown ass man. you've mastered how to use his weight against him, and he knows it. he also knows the look you get when you're walking up to him to ask to spar, and at this point he just points you to soap or ghost and shoos you away. one time he actually said "go on, git!" to you; his british accent made it much more funny than he had intended.

♡ fighting against soap kind of has 50-50 odds of you winning. if you're not afraid to start bleeding in multiple areas that day, you'll most likely be able to pin him. if you don't feel really like it, then you pretty much just have to run away. your before-sparring lecture for him eventually gets accompanied by an after-sparring lecture from you while he helps you put band-aids on the new cuts and scrapes.

₍ᐢ.᎔.ᐢ₎ okay a couple angsty ones because i can't help it,,,

♡ price knows how young you are, and you know he does without him having to tell you, because sometimes you catch him looking at you with sad eyes that see a lot more than you do. usually, if the conditions are just right, you're all for attempting to get the team members to open up to you, but this is what you and price don't talk about. instead, you tell him not to worry, that you'll at least outlive him.

♡ they're all waiting for that one day that, on one of their missions, you'll see something or have to do something that you won't come back from, because it's inevitable in this line of work. but you find a way to smile, even after the worst days, and you always say it's because someone has to.

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2 years ago

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2 years ago

i can see the devil in your eye

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2 years ago

Ghost x Soap x Male Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Sorry it took me quite long lmao TToTT School and work deadlines are killin' me.

Summary: Male Reader is traumatized and refuses to open up to 141. Soap found out something horrible going on with him and told Ghost about it.

Word count: 1910

Warnings: Smoking. Mention of attempts to self-h@rm.

The next morning you woke up with a throbbing headache. It was so bad that you felt like hundreds of needles were jabbed into your eye sockets and every time you blinked, those needles plunged into your brain, sending a sharp and chilling pain to the crown of your head. This was by no means a strange occurrence for you though, given the fact that every night the base celebrated a party you always indulged in this self-sabotaging habit.

Still, no matter how bad the situation was, you still had training to attend to, tasks to get done, reports to compile, and a miserable life to live. You turned your head to look at the clock, silently praying that it wasn’t too late.

It was 13:00 in the afternoon already.

“Shit!” You threw an arm over your forehead. Nice, you missed the morning training session. It was your responsibility today to train the new recruits and now you messed up the whole Task Force’s schedule once again just because you could not handle your pathetic emotions properly. The thoughts of giving up flooded your mind yet again since it was no use in waking up anyway, it was too late to do anything useful. The other team members were already aware of how irresponsible you were as you continuously failed to be on time for training the newbies. And what about the newbies’ impression of you? Probably an unreliable man who was no longer fit to be a member of a special Task Force that was particularly famous for its efficiency. Or maybe you were never fit to be one to begin with.

Why didn’t the others wake you up? You had worked here long enough to know how scary and irritated Ghost could get when people missed his training session. There were even times when he immediately had the unpunctual soldiers pack their things and get sent to another department because he couldn’t fuckin’ stand people disrespecting his schedule.

“Maybe they forget about my existence. Maybe I wasn’t that big of a part of this Task Force.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to pull your tired body out of the heavy blanket. As much as you wanted to give up, the desire to be important to someone, something, or some organization, …just anything, urged you to wake up and keep trying. You wanted yourself to be seen.

Upon opening the door of your stuffy room, you instinctively covered your eyes as they were attacked by rays of blinding sunlight. Your room was too dark and gloomy, doors and windows tightly shut all day and night, no wonder you would react so unfavorably to the bright sunlight that is often associated with positive moods by most people.

The base was unusually quiet. You didn’t meet a single soul on your way to the kitchen to fill your hungry stomach. No Soap cracking stupid jokes with his heavy Scottish accent and laughing loudly to them himself, no Gaz cursing at his jokes, no Roach laughing at the two dumb manchildren, no Price sighing and telling them to at least be less raucous. You tried to shrug the nasty nagging feelings off, but it soon became unbearable when you walked into the kitchen and saw all the dirty dishes in the sink.

“They have finished their lunch.” And they had it without you. The people you considered to be your own family, much closer than the biological family that you had cut all contact with, didn’t wake you up from your drunken sleep, totally forgot your existence, and enjoyed a meal together like there wasn’t anything missing. You knew damn well that you were overexaggerating the seriousness of the situation, but you just couldn’t help it.

‘What am I to them?’ That question kept spiraling inside your brain, worsening the headache that you were already having. In a brief second, all the nagging feelings were anthropomorphized into a disgusting creature with multiple heads and mouths by your ailed mind, shrilly screaming out your deepest thoughts that were fraught with insecurities. Your legs were rendered weak and you collapsed on the floor. Supporting your weakened body with all four limbs, you took heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

A few minutes later, you managed to put yourself together enough to stand up and get out of the base, on the way you didn’t forget to grab a pack of cigarettes. You felt stupid to resort to nicotine as a way to fight against all those feelings, but you didn’t know a better way. There were times when things were so bad that you had no energy left to hide your conditions from your teammates, and Price was concerned. He used to have you talk to some therapists, and not surprisingly to you at all, they could not handle you for long. No one ever could.

You were now standing in the parking lot with a cigarette in your mouth. You sighed, clearly satisfied with how strongly its bitter taste stimulated your taste buds. When you first arrived here as the newest member of Task Force 141, Soap and Gaz always joked that you’d become Price’s smoking buddy, but that did not happen. The image of you standing with Price awkwardly because you two couldn’t find a mutual topic for a conversation made you feel too uncomfortable to even try, so you kept avoiding the older man or pretending to not hear his offer until he just stopped inviting you. It was so obvious that the men wanted to get closer to you, they wanted to earn your trust, to make you feel at home and be yourself among them, yet you kept pushing them away. And now perhaps they had stopped trying all together. It was not their fault. It was yours.

But why it was so painful? You were supposed to feel relieved that they had given up so that you didn’t have to blame yourself every time you turned their kind offer down and saw the sadness drawn on their faces. ‘Why do I keep feeling like shit no matter what I do?’

Feeling that the intense emotions that were barely suppressed by the nicotine started to get out of hand again, you cupped your head with both hands, the half-burning cigarette fell to the ground. Suddenly, your eyes caught the red burning tip of it, together with how the paper wrapping around the nicotine was slowly burnt to black. At that very moment, a dark but familiar thought popped up in your mind. You bowed down to pick up the cigarette, blankly staring at it resting between the two fingers of your right hand. Then, your eyes turned to your left hand, examining your spotty lower arm. It was full of the small round scars that were caused by burning your arms with the burning tip of a cigarette. You had noticed Ghost looked at these scars of yours many times; luckily he never asked about them. The army was a place filled with people who had different background stories and bore numerous scars, so it wouldn’t be abnormal for you to have some that were a bit funny-shaped.

‘Should I do this again?’

Maybe you should. It helped with the emotions. Well, temporarily, but that was good enough.

Just as you were about to press the burning tip into your lower left arm, someone threw their whole weight into you. You were hugged by two strong arms and the cigarette was again dropped to the ground.

“There you are! I’ve been finding you everywhere!” It was the Scot man. “Are you smoking? Gosh, I hate this smell! Price’s cigars are much better!”

‘The ones that smell good are never bitter enough.’ You thought to yourself.

“Have you had lunch, pretty boy?” Soap pinched your dumbfounded face.

“Not yet.”

“What? Unbelievable! Get to the kitchen with me right now, Sergeant.” The man literally manhandled you straight from the parking lot into the base, leaving you no time to object.

As you two arrived at your destination, Ghost was already sitting there, sipping some coffee. Soap forced you to sit down right next to him while he proceeded to walk to the fridge and pulled out a dish, putting it inside the microwave oven.

“Here you are, babyboy~” He put the hot meal in front of you. You chose to ignore the pet name and his flirtatious voice simply because he had started doing it to you ever since you start working here. It was just one of his signature thing, you should not fall for it and mistake it as a sign of interest that could develop into romantic feelings.

“Thanks, Soap.”

“Aw, don’t be so all worked up and formal, babyboy. Ya’ welcome~”

Silence fell over the three of you, until you just felt so awkward that you had to speak up, “So… how was this morning?”

“It was fine. Ghost stepped in your place and took care of the training.” Soap replied.

You carefully glanced at Ghost, just to find that the man already looked at you, which made you tremble slightly. The skull mask on his face made him too difficult to read, you couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or he just gave up on expecting something greater from you.

Soap laughed at your reactions, “It’s okay. You were drunk so Price agreed to let you sleep. Also, Ghost volunteered to help you with the training so he probably doesn’t hold a grudge. Am I right, Ghostie?”

The masked man didn’t answer; instead, he turned back to his cup of coffee.

You quickly finished your meal and left, saying that you should do training by yourself. The truth was you couldn’t stay there any longer, you didn’t want to disturb Ghost and Soap’s rare peaceful time together. You had already made too terrible an impression on Ghost, it’s best that you did not mess up again. As a result, you also missed their conversation. It was not intended for you to listen to anyway.

“You’re right. He did it.” Soap’s voice was solemn, with no sign of flirt or unseriousness like a few minutes before.

“You mean the scars?” Ghost looked up at him from the cup.

“Yeah, the round scar marks that you’ve told me many times.”

“It was just my guess. How do you know he really did it?”

“I found him in the parking lot. He was holding a burning cigarette and about to press it into his left arm.”

A few minutes of silence passed until Ghost spoke up, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“I asked Price about his past, I know it’s a nosy thing to do, but I wanted to help. Unfortunately, Price knows nothing either. Y/n… the boy never opens up to us.”

The two men sat quietly, exchanging worried looks with each other. If only you could know how much they cared for you, maybe you would find it easier to accept their love and help. Yet, even if they told you, even if they desperately showed you so many times that they cared and loved you so much, would your brain allow your heart to welcome them just like how it used to welcome other people you had met earlier in your life, the ones who left you wounded and made you the way you were today?

If someone asked you that question, you’d just offer them a weak smile and simply say: “No”. You're now too tired to hold on to any crumbles of hope left in your broken soul. You'd like to give up.

to be continued i guess :")

Taglist: @aphroditeslovr @prestigeghoul @edgyboi10000 @c0nny3917 @peter-the-pan @lovecats123451

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