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pinkie-pop · 4 months

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"BAD END: REVOLUTION"

Part I Part II

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland x Reader, Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Word count: 4.4k

Synopsis: You're stuck in a time loop.

Includes: Death, Despair, Bad Ends, future Obsessive and possessive behaviors

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Panic. You try your best to ignore the screaming all around you, to calm your mind, and to think of a plan.

You come up empty.

A rose bush is hurled across the garden, its thorns missing your face by mere centimeters. Your mind reels. Before coming to Twisted Wonderland, you had never even heard of an overblot. None of the fiction you’ve ever read had such a mechanic, but you suppose reality is often stranger than fiction.

They were supposed to be rare. They were supposed to happen once every few hundred years. So why is this happening to you? Why now?

Why?

Too absorbed in self-pity and fear, you miss the giant, inky vine heading straight for you. It pierces through your chest, leaving a trail of ink and viscera in its wake as the thorns grip at your insides like barbed wire. The ringing in your ears is deafening, but you ignore it to raise a cautious hand to your chest. Wet. People are screaming around you, and you’re faintly aware of someone picking you up and ripping off your shirt, applying pressure to the wound. It’s no use, though; your vision fades to black, and you fall to your knees, exhausted.

Is it…finally over?

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You wake up with a start.

Something’s scratching on your door.

It’s dark—too dark. What time is it? Is Riddle okay? What about the others? You go to check your phone, only to remember belatedly that you don't have one while simultaneously hitting your head on firm wood. Come to think of it, you aren’t on a mattress…

Are you…in a coffin? Have you already been buried?! But you’re still alive, you’re—!

Your breathing quickens, but it doesn’t last for long before the lid of the coffin flies open, a familiar pair of blue eyes meeting yours. Isn’t that…?

“Myah! Give me your clothes!” …Yeah. That’s Grim, all right. Just like when you first found yourself in Twisted Wonderland, he’s blown open the lid to your coffin, just like when you first met. You’ve heard of people’s lives flashing. before their eyes in the moment before their demise, but this is far more lifelike than you had ever imagined. “Hey, what’re you thinking so hard about? Gimme your clothes right now or I’ll burn you to ashes!” Grim says. You try to ignore him, but it’s impossible to ignore the sudden burst of flames that are hurled in your direction. They miss you, but you know it was only a warning.

“I’ll give you my robe if you really want it,” you say, relenting. “But it’s not going to fit you.”

“Psh, whatever,” Grim says. You shrug and hand it over. Just as you predicted, the robe is far too big on him, the fabric basically swallowing him whole. You try not to giggle at the way he struggles to break himself free from the cloak that envelopes him.

The rest of the night continues the way you remember it. Crowley comes to collect you. The Mirror says you have no magic, and Grim tries to take your place. Crowley tries to send you home, but the Mirror cannot locate it. You stay the night at Ramshackle.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You’re exhausted by the time you reach Ramshackle, so much so that you don’t even bother changing your clothes before you collapse on the bed. When you wake up, you’ll be back in the rose garden, but for now, you just want to rest.

You wake up to the sound of harsh wind and rain hitting your window, a startlling realization on the forefront of your mind. Logic dictates that you should not be able to fall asleep and wake up inside a dream or flashback. This is real. You’ve gone back in time.

Grim is snoring soundly at the foot of your bed, he must have broken in again. Well, no matter. You have other things to worry about…but first, you’d really like to change out of this uncomfortable getup. Really, what were you thinking? You didn’t even bother to take your shoes off before you fell face-first into the mattress. You suppose going back in time must have taken a lot out of you.

You roll off the bed, removing your shoes and socks first, and your pants second. Thirdly, you lift your shirt up, flinching at the way the cold air hits the tender flesh around your wound. You bring a hand to your chest, tracing over the area. It’s mostly healed, but a rather nasty scar has taken its place.

How peculiar. Everything else here seems to have reset, but not this.

You stay up the rest of the night searching your mind for answers but find none. When Crowley comes in the morning and asks how you’ve slept, you lie.

The first day goes exactly as you remember it. When Grim is about to spit fire at Ace, you attempt to stop it, only to get a nasty burn on top of having to clean all the windows. You try to stop Deuce from throwing Ace onto the chandelier, but you’re too late.

When it comes time for you to find a magestone with the help of Grim and the others, you don’t hesitate like you did last time. Perhaps your confidence rubbed off on the three, as things seemed to move along much more efficiently than the first time. You defeated the cavern monster and quickly walked the stone back to the school, where Crowley is once again moaning about how he stayed up all night doing paperwork for your expulsion.

You find it hard to feel sorry for him.

The next few days continue to go as you remember them, though you expend quite a bit of effort to change that. You tell Ace not to go around eating food that isn’t his. It comes across as strange and unnatural, but you don’t care. It doesn’t matter either way, however, as he doesn’t listen to you.

“I’m real slim, you know?!” He says, a familiar collar on his neck.

“The couch is over there,” you tell him.

You, Trey, Ace, Deuce, and Grim all work together to make a pie as an apology for Ace’s actions. You made the mistake of using chestnuts last time, so this time, you suggest using strawberries instead. The pie turns out amazing, and you have to remind Grim (and Ace) that the food isn’t for him.

You hope Riddle accepts it this time.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You tell Ace not to go against his Housewarden every chance you get. You tell him it was a bad idea, that a scolding is the least of his worries. You tell him he could get hurt, or worse, but he refuses to listen. Everything you say seems to do nothing but strengthen his resolve. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. He doesn't know what you know.

The clock ticks, each passing second bringing you to your impending doom until, finally, it's here.

You wake up with a knot in your stomach. Today, Ace is going to challenge Riddle for his housewarden seat. Today, Riddle will overblot, and today, you will die.

Riddle’s overblot form is as terrifying and imposing as you remember. You do your best to fight him off, warning the others of incoming attacks and directing the action. You helped Ace and Deuce with defense magic training throughout the week, but it wasn't enough to stop the onslaught of collars. That was fine, though. Trey’s magic pulled through just like last time, and the shield spell you taught Deuce saved you just when you had died last time.

Things were going well. You could barely bring yourself to believe that you might actually when this time before your defenses and feet slipped. You fall onto a pile of thorns that quickly coil around you like a python.

Dark spots cloud your vision as you pull against the thorns that envelop you. You fight until you are too weak to even think of struggling against your restraints.

The last of your air leaves your lungs, and you die.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You wake up with a start. Your whole body is shaking and covered in a thin layer of cool sweat.

Something is scratching on your door.

You reach up to check your neck, finding thin, raised scars along where the thorns penetrated your skin. You’re sure there are more on the rest of your body, but the confined coffin space makes it difficult to check.

“Myah! Give me your clothes!” Grim says. You ignore him, falling down onto your knees in a fit of despair. “H-huh? What’s wrong? Why’re you crying?! I didn’t even do nothing to ya yet!” Oh, you think to yourself. I hadn’t even noticed. You let the tears fall down your face, uncaring at how strange you might look to onlookers. You’ve died twice now; you deserve to cry a little over it, don’t you?

Grim stands by you awkwardly as you sob, all thoughts of stealing your clothes and setting you aflame seem to have vanished from his furry head. It doesn’t take long for Crowley to come find you, somehow handling the situation with less grace than even Grim. You pay his hollow words no mind and continue on with your long cry. You stay like that for several minutes as the two try to distract you or get you moving along. Finally, you shed your last tear and wipe the wetness from your face.

“Are you feeling better?” Asks Crowley.

“Nope!” You say, giving him a thumbs up and rising to your feet.

The rest of the night passes exactly as you remember it. The mirror tells you you have no magic. Grim tries to take your place. Rinse. Wash. Repeat.

You thought you were done crying, but as soon as you flopped down on your bed, the tears came back with a vengeance. You didn’t bother cleaning up Ramshackle this time. No point in it. Besides, its your work on restoring the place that has Crowley volunteering you as the newest custodian. You want a different job this time. Ideally, you’ll get a job in the library. Not only will this give you a steady paycheck, it’s also the job most likely to help you find a way out of this time looping mess, and perhaps even a way back home. A new job also means treading a new path. With this new job, you don’t have to meet Ace and get in trouble, or meet Duece and almost get fired. You won’t have to tag along when Ace confronts Riddle—if he confronts Riddle—, and you won’t have to die.

One thing’s for sure, though. You can’t get fired this time. You can’t become a student. You have to keep this job. And the only way to do that is to tell Grim he can’t stay with you.

You greet Grim with a heavy heart as he breaks into Ramshackle come nightfall. You’ve actually grown rather fond of him these past two weeks. But what must be done must be done. You tell him that you can’t take responsibility for him, and that he needs to leave. As expected, he puts up a fight, and manages to convince you to at least let him stay the night as you wait for the storm to settle down.

“Just for tonight,” you say, holding out a pinkie to him.

“Just for tonight,” he echos, shaking your finger with his paw. He’s holding the other one behind his back, but you pay it no mind. Even if he decides to break his promise, it’ll become Crowley’s problem, not yours.

As soon as you find yourself settled under the covers, however, you hear a knock at the front door. Right, Crowley had come to bring you dinner. You had forgotten all about that. Begrudgingly, you leave the bed and head downstairs to where Crowley is waiting for you with a bowl of hot soup. You thank him quietly, and he asks if you’re feeling any better.

You lie and change the subject.

“Mr. Crowley,” you say, wringing your hands together. “You said that I could have access to the library, right? To research ways to get home? Well, I was wondering…could you give me a job in the library? I could work as a page, or a librarian, or whatever other jobs are available.” Crowley pauses, a small frown on his face that’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Why, of course. I’m elated to have such an eager worker,” he says, puffing up his feathers. Then, seemingly touched by his own words, says: “Why, my magnanimity knows no bounds!”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Your first day at the library starts out slow. You busy yourself by familiarizing yourself with the organization of the books and the layout of the building. It’s a rather big place, so this task has you on your feet for most of the day.

“Oi, librarian, can you tell me where this book goes?” You pause. That voice…isn’t that…? You turn around. Indeed, Ace stands in front of you, holding a book in his right hand and a pencil in his left. Did he follow you just so he could laugh at your new job, again?

“I’m sorry, but I actually don’t know where that would go. If you hand it to me, though, I can put it into the computer and find it for you.”

“What? Seriously?! You don’t know? Aren’t you supposed to be the librarian?” There it is. This past week has almost made you forget just how mean Ace starts at the beginning. “Librarian’s assistant,” you say. “And it’s my first day so…” Ace spends a few minutes attempting to get under your skin before the bell drags him back to class.

“Phew,” you sigh, sinking down onto the floor. These past two weeks have made you consider Ace to be a friend, but that doesn’t change just how exhausting he is to be around on your first day.

Deuce visits the library next, and you help him find study materials for his classes. Honestly, he'd be better off looking for them without you, given how long it took for you to navigate the twisting library shelves, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems eager to have someone to talk to—his sincerity acting as a stark contrast to Ace’s earlier flattery. You like Deuce. He's honest and hardworking. Perhaps that's why you didn't turn him down when he invited you to lunch later that day.

You spend the rest of the period reshelving books, keeping one on theoretical time travel tucked away for yourself later on. Before you know it, it's time for lunch. As promised, Deuce visits the library again to pick you up, and the two of you head down to the cafeteria together. You both get your food and sit down. The two of you had just barely started talking when the sound of someone else plopping down beside you stills any conversation. Ace has taken it upon himself to join the two of you. You suppose he’s decided he hasn’t bothered you enough today.

“Watch out!” Someone cries from across the room. You all whip around to see none other than Grim, collared with tart in mouth and sprinting across the tables, running from a very angry Riddle.

“Catch that thief!” He screams. You turn back around, fully intent on ignoring the chaos and letting someone else handle it when all of a sudden, Grim stops in his tracks on your table.

…You can’t help but think the scene feels somewhat familiar.

Grim launches himself up onto the chandelier, causing both Ace and Deuce to leap up from their seats.

You think you know what’s going to happen next.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“I must say, I am thoroughly disappointed in the four of you,” the Headmaster sighs. “What in the world were you thinking?” “I’m sorry, but how am I a part of this?” You ask, raising your hand.

“If I recall correctly, this feline here is your familiar,” Crowley says.

“You recall incorrectly,” you say. “We met for the first time at the mirror ceremony.”

“Well, you could have stopped those two from breaking the chandelier,” Crowley argues.

“And how, pray tell, could I have done that?” You ask. The two of you bicker back and forth, but unfortunately, Crowley seems hell-bent on getting you involved. The four of you are all threatened with expulsion and given a task to avoid it: find the magestone.

You suppose that some events can’t be changed.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A beast-tamer, he says. Empty words and meaningless flattery, you’re sure. But why? What does he stand to gain from it? From you?

You don’t know. All you do know is he’s very intent on turning you into a student, and that you’re very intent on not doing that. Every offer he makes to you has you more and more suspicious of his intentions. Though it’s hard to turn down his offer of a higher pay, you manage to overcome temptation. Crowley, surprisingly, keeps his offer open to Grim, who jumps at the opportunity to become a student. Oddly, he still only counts as half a student, and says the offer for you to become the other half will always be on the table. You aren’t quite sure what being half a student means for Grim, but he seems happy with it, so you pay it little mind.

The next few days are grueling. Crowley works you like a dog at the library. Thanks to that, though, you learn the layout and organization at a superhuman speed. The work keeps you busy, at least. Though you find yourself missing your friends. You still hang out with them during lunch, but you miss being able to talk to them between classes.

The loneliness takes over, and soon you find yourself in front of Crowley’s office door, about to ask about becoming a student again when a sharp pain from your lungs nearly brings you to your knees. Intrusive thoughts of your last two deaths flood into your mind. Right, being a student is what led you to your death. You can’t choose to walk the same path again. You have to keep going.

You don’t want to die again.

The day of the overblot comes. Intent on waiting it out, you stay in the library. You have so much work to do that you couldn’t get away even if you wanted to. Which, to be clear, you very much don’t want to.

At the end of the day you hear through the grapevine that Riddle has recovered. You don’t hear anything about any casualties, either.

Good. The day ends, and you head to bed.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You wake up with a start, instinctively reaching your hand out towards the coffin’s lid…except, a coffin’s lid is not what you find. Instead, your hand hits nothing but air. Right, you survived. It’s the next day. You fall asleep to the sound of rain hitting your window, and Grim snoring softly at the foot of your bed.

In the morning, Crowley asks how you slept. Deja vu, but you pay it no mind.

“I slept great!” You say.

“I’m so happy to hear that even in another world, you find yourself adjusting so well,” he says.

…

…?

Isn’t that what he tells you on your second day? Why is he repeating it?

It…it couldn’t be.

No. No way. You didn’t wake up in a coffin this time, you woke up in your own bed. But…

“[Name]? Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” you say.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You’re back in the library. Just as you had feared, you went back in time to after you had asked Crowley to let you work here. You suppose fate won’t allow you to just skip the main event. You sigh. What’s even the point of all this?

“Oi, librarian, can you tell me where this book goes?” Last time, you were unable to answer this question, but now you have a week’s worth of experience under your belt.

“You don’t want to reshelve that. If you take it out, please return it to this cart over here so I can reshelve it myself later.” “Eh? Why can’t I just put it back where I found it?” “You mean aside from the fact that you don’t know where you found it? Because we keep track of what books are picked up to know which are the most popular or in demand. We can’t count it if you just put it back on the shelf,” you say, taking the book from Ace and loading it into your cart as he tries to make small talk. There’s something a little different about his tone and cadence than the last time, but you can’t quite place it.

“Thanks, I’ll see you around,” he says as you wave him off. Weird, you think. He didn’t even make fun of me once. What changed? Perhaps it’s just your imagination, but it seems as though Ace becomes less and less hostile towards you with every loop.

Well, you suppose you ought not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Even so, his change has you feeling uneasy.

Deuce visits the library next, and you help him find study materials for his classes. You remember where they were from the last loop. You suppose it must look rather strange for someone to know the library so well on their first day, but you pay this kind of logic no mind and help him find his things in under ten minutes. You suppress a smile at his look of bewildered amazment. He invites you to have lunch with him later that day, and you accept.

You spend the rest of the period reshelving books, keeping one on theoretical time travel tucked away for yourself later on. Before you know it, it's time for lunch. As promised, Deuce visits the library again to pick you up, and the two of you head down to the cafeteria together. You both get your food and sit down. The two of you had just barely started talking when the sound of someone else plopping down beside you stills any conversation. Ace has taken it upon himself to join the two of you. It’s a little awkward at first, but Ace’s natural charisma soon takes over, and the three of you soon begin laughing around just like old times. It almost feels as though things have gone back to normal.

…

You wish Grim were here, too.

“[Name]? What’s wrong? You’re crying.” Deuce looks over you, his face creased with worry. You raise a hand to your cheek. Sure enough, it comes back wet. You hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just got something in my eye.”

“Jeez, don’t scare us like that,” Ace says.

“What’s scary?” The three of you all turn to see Cater and Trey holding their lunches.

“Hey, freshies, mind if we join you?” Cater asks.

Things are changing again, but you don’t have time to dwell on it before another voice cries out from across the cafeteria.

“Watch out!” Someone cries. You all whip around to see none other than Grim, collared with tart in mouth and sprinting across the tables, running from a very angry Riddle.

“Catch that thief!” He screams. You turn back around, fully intent on ignoring the chaos and letting someone else handle it when all of a sudden, Grim stops in his tracks on your table.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“I must say, I am thoroughly disappointed in the four of you,” the Headmaster sighs. “What in the world were you thinking?” You don’t bother arguing about your involvement this time. Once again, Crowley offers you a position as one of his students, and once again, you decline. You know that in order to break out of this loop, you’ll have to fight and win against Riddle, and you know that you’ll have to be a student in order to do that, but, even so, you can still wait until Crowley offers you better pay and benefits before accepting.

The day of the overblot finally comes, and this time, you’re prepared. You can't believe it took so many loops for you to realize you can't just come into a fight empty handed. No, this time you're ready to fight.

You've been spending a lot of time in Crewel's class this past week, and you have the potions to show for it. When Riddle takes on his overblot form, you'll hand out performance enhancing potions to your allies, buying you some time until you find an opening to test out your explosive concoctions.

…You hope no one asks why you're carrying potion bombs with you.

Regardless, the dreaded duel comes around, and Riddle's overblot takes place mere moments later. You hand out potions as planned and do your best to direct your friend’s attacks, warning them when something is about to hit them, and yelling whenever there's an opening. Things are going well for once, and you find yourself hopeful, wondering if this time you'll finally see victory.

No, you can't let yourself get distracted. You haven't crossed the finish line yet.

Riddle throws a rose bush across the garden. You dodge. He commands vines to come forth and attack. You dodge. You're starting to get tired, but you press on. It's almost over. You just need to find an opportunity to use your potion.

The opportunity comes, and you whisper a silent prayer over the bottle before you toss the concoction at the thing standing behind Riddle. The black ink connecting him to his puppeteer is severed, and Riddle falls to the ground. Color returns, and it takes a moment for you to grasp what just happened.

You…won?

You won!

You actually won!

You fall to your knees, ears ringing as everyone clamors around Riddle. You can't hear anything, but it doesn't matter. You won.

That night, you return to Ramshackle and head to bed early. You're curious as to what the next day will bring.

The morning sun rises on a new dawn. It’s finally over.

For now, anyway.

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 11 months

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Whumpers! This is your two-week head start to the Two Weeks of Whump Challenge commencing on the 3rd of July!

[Image ID/More information under the cut]

Promptsforyourwhumpfic’s Two Weeks of Whump Challenge - July 3rd-July 16th

To celebrate six years and nine thousand followers, I have compiled a small whump challenge.

For each day, you gave been given three items/ways to hurt your chosen character with. You can use just one, or all three for each day! This isn’t limited to writing, you can create gifsets/draw etc. There is no limit.

For those posting to Tumblr

Please tag @promptsforyourwhumpfic and/or use the tags #TWOW or #TwoWeeksOfWhump.

For those posting to AO3:

I have created the Two Weeks Of Whump Collection (thank you for recommending I do this @dollopheadedmerlin!)

You can tag me at @SurroWhump

Prompts list:

1) Poker - Shock Collar - Ashes 2) Bio-Weapon - Isolation Chamber - Needles 3) Car Battery - Scalpel - Alcohol 4) Belt - Gas Mask - Cage 5) Broken Glass - Building Collapse - Necktie 6) Kitchen Knife - Gunshot Wound - Gag 7) Cyanide - False Imprisonment - Blindfold 8) Rope - Nails - Water Inhalation 9) Acid - Branding - Meat Hook 10) Rusted Metal - Phone Call - Hammer 11) Chains - Hanging - Muzzle 12) Baseball Bat - Coffin - Nail Gun 13) Mystery Pill - Gaslighting - Fishing Net 14) Barbed Wire - Scissors - Corkscrew

Remember: tag accordingly, especially when it comes to trigger warnings!

FAQ’S

Why just two weeks? I understand not everyone has the time/stamina to do a huge challenge, so I thought two weeks was a good compromise!

Miss a day? Don’t worry! It’s not the end of the world, you can always catch up in future. This challenge is not limited to these two weeks, if you’re finding this two months after its over, then you’re more than welcome to take part!

How much do you need to write/do for each day? As much or as little as you’d like. If a drabble turns into a full fic, brilliant! If you only have the time for a sketch that's fine too!

Want to know more? Message me/send me an ask!

#can everyone see the graphic?#I’m worried it’s a bit small #whump #whump community #writing #writing challenge #prompt meme #twow #TwoWeeksOfWhump

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blackrosesandwhump · 7 months

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How to Whump Your Hero (or Villain)!

For those times when you have the perfect whumpable hero or villain and don't know what to do with them. Use this generator to get ideas!

You have your character. What do you use to whump them?

Axe

Bandages

Barbed wire

Blindfold

Branding iron

Cage

Chains

Club

Coffin

Collar

Dagger

Drugs

Duct tape

Fishing line

Gag

Garrote

Gibbet

Handcuffs

Hatchet

Knife

Manacles

Operating Table

Oxygen mask

Pistol

Pitchfork

Plastic

Poison

Rapier

Rope

Scalpel

Scythe

Spear

Straightjacket

Stitches

Sword

Syringe

Taser

Whip

Using this random number generator, for example I get #5 Branding iron. Time for some painful branding for my poor villain!

Happy writing!

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cryptidcorners · 2 months

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Fire's Your Friend ~ — Billy Burn x GN!Reader

Description: You meet your boyfriend Billy after weeks of radio silence. Luckily, he's still the bastard you know and love.

# No Request

# A.N: I wrote this before I watched the film and it's been rotting in my notes LOL!!! enjoy

Media: Burn [ 2019 ]

Character: Billy Burn

Tags: Events Take After Burn, Established Relationship, Slightly Suggestive? If You Squint, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, Sweet Talk + Reader is !GN.

Warnings: Mentions of Blood/Injury, Smoking

TOS. Billy Burn Master List {TBW}

The sunset was red in the clouds and cold, ill air was sinking into the emptying lot, while a few silent pedestrians roamed to watch the light flee, it was still lonley in your eyes.

Billy's lighter was busy in your hands, as you found mindless entertainment in flicking the steel trap and running your fingertips in it's maze-like design. Though, toying with a relic from a phantom wasn't widowing away your impatience.

You cupped your face reluncantly due to the ice trailing on your cheeks as nighttime brimmed into the silent square. The wild, warm colors from buzzing advertisements and wasping vehicles flickering like holiday lights on a street a few yards away (which were walled with barbed wire) hadn't even distracted you, since your cocky companion was fresh in your mind.

You set the lighter ablaze, eyes fixed on the fire. It reminded you of your life, reminded you of the outside, reminded you of Billy. He was so dangerous, yet you found yourself on his porch every night enjoying his company. Though, you hadn't entirely gotten used to his trips. He'd pack nothing but a few dollars for gas, a firearm and some fake ID from God knows where. You prayed he'd come back in one piece, hopefully not with mobs on his tail.

"Don't you know it's dangerous to put fire so close to your face?" A voice said with a wry chuckle. "Or, is it nothing you've felt before?" Billy, with a great sigh, sat next to you. He looked breathless, as if he had ran a marathon, twice. Relief filled your bones and you felt weak already, "Billy."

Then, your eyes flickered wildly.

He turned his head, revealing his scarlet soaked side glittering under the moonlight.

"Oh, my God. Is that blood? Billy—" Your concern was icy. Billy immediately tensed and shook his head,

"It's nothing. It doesn't hurt, it's just . . . there." He assured with a sloppy attempt to grap your shoulder. "It's been a while."

You knew he had a short fuse, and he looked tired enough. You bit back another pester, "Yeah, it has."

Billy's warm grasp shock your fingertips as he gently took his lighter back, purposely caressing your hand just to tease. To your annoyment (and his amusement), it had worked and you felt your face warm. Billy sighed and eyed a pack of cigarettes slipping out your pocket. He then shook his lighter in front of you, "Mind giving me a smoke?"

You laughed softly. "Really? You want me to do it for you—again?" Billy groaned playfully, throwing his head back lightly with a low giggle. He then teased, "It's been a long night. And I'm just so tired, you can give me some hospitality, can't you?" Billy added. "I know you're soft for me."

"Careful now." You ruffled his hair affectionately, "I'm just lighting a cigarette." You set the cigarette between his curved lips and you lightly pushed him upwards, nails trailing down blue jacket. He chuckled again, gaze softening. "Don't leave me waiting."

"You've left me waiting for a week." You remarked with a waving the lighter in circles. "I can go as slow as I want to, but I won't—at least not tonight anyway." and you began sparking flashes of firelight on the edge of the coffin nail.

He held back another chuckle behind the smoke, already melting into your touch and leaning more foward than he needed to. Smoke filled the air, and after a long inhale, you pulled the cigarette back and let him flood his pent out exhaustion with the most fragile exhale you've ever heard in your life. You flared as he brought himself dangerously close, "I missed that. Smoking didn't feel worth it without you when I was away, I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Were you feeling sendamental or do you not know how to light a cig anymore?" You quizzed. His cheeks flushed with another cocky smile. You ran your fingers across his red face, which had earned a massive flinch. Your pressure eased and you reeled your fingertips down to his chin.

Billy sighed, speaking between the smoke as his eyes domesticated into something soft. "You know, fire isn't so bad. Hot, dangerous, pretty."

"Are you seriously talking about yourself?" You couldn't help but giggle, tucking his slick locks between his ears as you melted into his gaze.

"Am I wrong?" He teased and you felt his fingertips lightly trace across your cheek. Billy signaled you to take the cigarette back, and he blew a cloud into your face with a devious chuckle. You coughed, "Dick."

He rubbed his neck, "Sorry, I couldn't resist. It's funny seeing your face get all sour like that." and he planted a sweet kiss on your forehead — delicate and short as it was, it still made you feel all fuzzy. Billy noticed, "I'm sorry I've been so absent. There's been so much on my ass and . . . God, I'm sorry."

"Look, look it's okay." You hushed. "I'm just glad you came back in one piece," Then, you mumbled, "But, you seriously need to tell me what happened to you."

He said slowly, "Gas station."

"A gas station? Is that—all you're going to tell me."

"If you light me another, I'll give you three more words for context." He offered. And you didn't even think about resisting.

#🔥 Billy Burn #billy burn #billy burn x reader #billy burn x you #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #burn 2019 #burn #jhutch #writers on tumblr #writing #billy burn fluff #mike schmidt #josh futturman #crazy over him actually!!!!!!!

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softsweetwhispers · 7 months

Text

Asters and Goldenrod were given in abundance, soft dandelion yellow flowers turned brown and rotting, dehydration from their roots to their petals causing their beauty to crack.

Maybe I should’ve been grateful. Maybe I should’ve tried to preserve them, a reminder of one of the worst days of my life, but I didn’t -- as soon as I got home that night, I threw them away, tossing them in the trash right on top of the weeks-old leftovers we’d only just cleaned out. I remember flies, dozens of them, flying up in a panic, their ceaseless buzzing making the ringing in my ears worse. I tried not to think about maggots as they inevitably flew back into the trashcan, and I closed the lid.

There were Asters and Goldenrod given in abundance and maybe I should’ve been grateful, but I couldn’t say anything past the barbed wire tangled in my mouth. My jaw clenched and I remember the familiar taste of blood. All I could think about was how much my mother hated flowers.

It was a memorial service because we’d decided on having her cremated. I didn’t make the decision, didn’t have any part of it – my father did, though. He was the only person who knew her well enough to make the decision, even though they’d been divorced for almost a decade. My siblings and I were too young to know any version of her except the one that had been infected by her own mind. Her father wanted nothing to do with her and her mother couldn’t use the bathroom by herself let alone decide if her daughter would be thrown into a coffin or burned into ash.

People spoke, but I don’t remember what they said. I sat on a cold, plastic chair like the ones in waiting rooms and stared ahead, waiting for it to end. Static echoed in my brain like some secret hidden message and there was nothing I wanted more than to lay in bed and make everything stop. I felt like a ghost – unreal, invisible, outside of the real world. I thought, these people didn’t even know my mother. I thought, how cruel it was to make up a person who never existed for the sake of relieving self-guilt.

My mother’s best friend walked up to the podium – the podium, as if it was some charity or public speaking, as if what was left of my mother wasn't even something I could hold in my hands – she said I can’t believe we’re all talking about how like she’s not here, and I wanted to scream but she’s not! She wasn’t here and she never would be.

When it was over, somebody picked up the strings holding me together and made me walk and talk like everything was okay. When it was over, I stared at the flowers in my hands and couldn’t feel anything except anger curled so tight within me I thought I would snap. It was all wrong. Asters and Goldenrods are beautiful, and the world shouldn’t be beautiful when my mother is dead.

| k. - @nosebleedclub xii. asters and goldenrod

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sims4t2bb · 16 days

Text

weekly update

Hi, hello, and happy Sunday! We hope you've had a very, very good week and that you're enjoying the nice spell of spring sunshine 🌞

The updates for this week can be found underneath the cut. From us, as always, happy Simming — onwards and upwards! ✨

— Expansion Packs

Eco Lifestyle

Cozy Bundled Double, Cozy Bundled Sleeper, Dirty Double, Fabricated Double Bed, Fabricated Kids Bed, Fabricated Single Bed, Knitted Napper by Groovy Grandma Co., and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Snowy Escape

Monster-Free Bed, Traditional Tatami Bed, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Cottage Living

Spring Sparrow B&B Bed and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration has been added.

High School Years

Darling Deco, Luxurious Velve"Teen" Single Bed, Not Too Sneaky Storage Single Bed, Original Bouncy House - by Evolution Inc, The Original Launchpad Bed, The Pipe Dreams Bed, Slightly Sneaky Storage Double Bed, Vintage Double Poster Bed, Vintage Floral Single Bed, Wicker-Work Single Bed, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Growing Together

GreatShapes Great Heights Bunk Bed, GreatShapes Great Nights Bed, Woven Whims Cane Weave Double Bed, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Horse Ranch

Cormac Pine Bunk Bed and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

For Rent

White Lily Canopy Bed bedding conversion by @platinumaspiration has been added.

— Game Packs

Outdoor Retreat

AirKushn Double, AirKushn Single, Glamping Vunderbed, Rustic Sleeper, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Vampires

Aged Wooden Coffin, All Inclusive Luxury Cruiser, Ancient Resting Place, Paul’s Bearer of Bad News, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Parenthood

BroHill Single Bed with Storage, Metal Framed Single Bed, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Jungle Adventure

All Jungle Adventure debug crystals conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Cama de Ensueño, Camita de Ensueño, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Strangerville

The Bunk and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Realm of Magic

The Mind's Eye Twin Bed, Selene's Sanctuary Bed, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Dream Home Decorator

The Beauty of Negative Space Bed, Naturally Nestled Single Bed, Naturally Nestled Top Bunk, The Princess and the Pineapple Bed, Serene Repose Single Bed, Serene Repose Upper Bunk, Single Bed with Knobs, Smooth Single Slumber, Smooth Slumber Upper Bunk, Swingin' Single Bed, Too Cool For School Top Bunk, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Werewolves

Hasty Replacement Palette Bed, Pups & Up Apogee Bed, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

The Moondwood Collective Hangout Tree conversion by @tvickiesims has been added.

— Stuff Packs

Romantic Garden

Delphinium, Hollyhocks, Iris, Lupin, Thistle, Nature's Barbed Wire - Small, and Overgrown Rose Bush conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Kids Room

Beddy Bye Sleeper and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Backyard

Wild Gumdrop conversion by @tvickiesims has been added.

Vintage Glamour

Tufted & Tucked, Maleficent Bedstead, and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Tiny Living

Space-Saving Single and bedding conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

— Kits

Castle Estate

Heirloom Stairs, Heirloom Banister, Cornerstone Castle Foundation, Battlement Frieze, The Embellished Castle Trim, Gothic Spandrel, Battlement Fence, and Heirloom Handrail conversions by @lordcrumps and @tvickiesims have been added.

This kit is now fully converted!

#weekly update

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littlemisspascal · 2 years

Text

The Infinity Cube Part 19

Main Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Chapter Pairing: Javi G x Female Reader

Word Count: 3500+

Series Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

Warnings for the chapter: Language, blood, angst, Reader feeling a lot of negativity, lots of italics + references to past chapters

Author Note: One more chapter to go! I can’t thank y’all enough for coming on this journey. I appreciate every like, comment, and reblog 💝

PART 1 / PART 18 / PART 20

It’s oddly serene, finding yourself sitting in an egg chair on a balcony watching the ocean waves in the distance. There’s a plush pillow propping up your back, a slight breeze keeping you cool despite the cloudless sky. All traces of blood are gone from your clothes and skin and hair. The cube sits in your lap like an obedient pet expecting praise.

Everything’s peaceful.

Everything except you.

You feel like you’ve been cracked open like an egg, all your vulnerable parts spilled on the floor. A puddle of blood, ooze, and pus from unhealed wounds you’ve kept burying deeper and deeper inside yourself.

You’ve survived a vampire assault. You’ve survived giving up a baby you loved as your own. You’ve survived exploding gunpowder and night terrors and violent murders and a meeting with the literal Devil. You’re good at surviving. At putting one step forward. And you’d thought, back in Oberyn’s universe, it was natural for all the negative emotions churning inside of you to disappear just like your surroundings did with each new place. But now, as your hands shake and Joel’s last shuddering breaths echo in your eardrums and the gaping, expanding hole in your chest threatens to eat you alive—you realize it wasn’t natural.

They didn’t disappear on their own. All this time you’ve just been subconsciously locking them away in a box. Another survival tactic to keep you from drowning in trauma, from going insane, from losing another fragile piece of your true self.

And maybe it would have kept working, maybe all those turbulent emotions would have stayed contained in their makeshift coffin if you hadn’t watched Joel…if he hadn’t of…

The word is stuck in your throat, a bundle of barbed wire you can’t swallow and can’t spit out.

You’re abruptly aware of how harshly you’re biting your bottom lip, like your teeth could sink right through the layers of skin and release a gushing fountain of scarlet down your chin.

So tightly wound up, you nearly leap out of your skin when a man steps out onto the balcony. He reacts to your startlement with a surprised jolt of his own, one hand going to his chest. His alarm swiftly changes to dewy-eyed concern once he registers your trembling, like seeing you in pain causes him pain.

“One?” he asks softly, tentatively reaching out a hand. “What’s wrong?”

The strong accent in his voice is unexpected, but there’s comfort in the familiarity of the low, raspiness. It soothes something broken deep inside of you, a tender kiss against the worst of your pain.

The comfort doesn’t last long though. His appearance flickers, memories of Joel and your current reality overlapping, and you see him slathered in blood, wounds seeping as he sways on his feet.

You don’t think, just launch yourself forward into his arms. There’s a clacking, metallic sound when the cube hits the ground, but you could care less, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tight enough he chokes out a gasp. He stumbles back a step from the collision, caught off guard by your behavior, and then he rapidly catches up with the situation, hands holding onto you just as securely. His lips are at your ear, quietly shushing your muffled whines, and he smells like seasalt and sweat and strawberry shampoo, but what matters most of all is he’s here, with you, alive and breathing.

You lean back just enough to look at his face, noses nearly brushing. He’s softer in this universe compared to most other versions you’ve seen. A lightness in his eyes that hasn’t been snuffed out by loss or violence. One of your hands traces over the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, and he watches you do so wordlessly, seeming to sense this is something you need.

“Javi,” you mumble, the name like a prayer on your lips while your palm settles against his neck, counting the steady beats of his pulse.

“Yeah,” he answers quietly, one hand rubbing at your back while the other cups the back of your head. “I’m here, One. Not going anywhere.”

“No,” you say, that tightness in your throat returning. “You never do. I’m always the one leaving.”

He hums a confused note as you untangle yourself from his hold and bend down to retrieve the fallen cube. You’ve tried to outsmart it, tried speaking to it and cursing it. Failure after failure after failure. And your attempts at twisting and turning its sides have only brought you closer and closer to your own self-destruction.

The only thing you haven’t tried is asking for help.

In most universes you’ve traveled to, people tended to diminish the cube’s significance or flat out ignored its existence like it wasn’t even there. It hadn’t occurred to you, in-between dealing with a headful of new memories and simultaneously falling in love with a new Brown Eyes, to ask anyone their opinions about the cube.

And then there was also the constant fear of merging which hovered over you like a shadow wherever you went, urging you to keep moving forward or else risk losing yourself.

That shadow is still there, the fear still near-suffocating, but God you’re so fucking tired of all of this. You’re tired of constantly hopping around universes and seeing every possible version of Marcus except your own. You’re tired of surviving. You’re selfish enough to want to live, damnit. Let someone else deal with this gigantic clusterfuck. Let someone else lose the love of their life right in front of them. Let someone else have their heart pulled apart and trampled until they're hollow shells who have nothing left inside themselves to feel with.

You’re done.

So this is it. A last ditch, go-for-broke Hail Mary plan. One way or another—whether the cube is solved or not—you’re ending this adventure.

“Javi, what do you know about the multiverse?”

He blinks, eyebrows drawing together in silent confusion as he looks between the cube and your face for a connection but fails to find one. “Enough to discuss Marvel movies,” he answers.

You’re torn between gasping and laughing, resulting in a breathy kind of hiccup sound bursting free from your mouth. It can’t be a coincidence, the same words you’d once said to the thief coming back again full circle. Only this time the roles are reversed and you're the one educating him.

“Right,” you say after recovering your voice again, “well–”

“Star Trek— the 2009 Chris Pine one, I mean—also focused on the idea of multiple universes too,” Javi interrupts, confusion turning to thoughtfulness as he rifles through the massive collection of films contained within his head. “And Sonic the Hedgehog, Coherence…oh! How could I forget Everything Everywhere All At Once? I think I like that one the most. Isn’t it amazing to think every choice we make is responsible for creating another universe? I hope other versions of me are as happy as I am with you, my one and only.”

Javi grins sweetly at you then, a dusting of red along his cheeks, and oh, how you want to kiss him then, to pull him in and surrender yourself completely to this universe’s identity. But you owe it to too many people to give this last shot your full 100% effort.

“That’s just it, Javi,” you tell him, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact as you rip off the metaphorical band-aid. “I’m not her. I know it sounds crazy. I know I look like your One and I sound like her, but inside, I’m someone different. Someone from another universe. And the reason I’m here is because of this.” You hold the cube up higher and it vibrates, or maybe it shakes because your whole body’s shaking, it’s hard to tell. “Every time I turn it, I’m taken to another universe. All I want is to go home and to do that I need to solve this and I can’t, Javi. I just fucking can’t.”

There’s a tense moment which follows where you’re not sure what he’ll say, what he’ll do. His body is unnaturally still except for his eyes. They drift over your face, dark and unreadable, and then drop to the cube again.

You can’t move despite the painful, bordering on excruciating instinct to flee, to turn the cube one last time and then throw it into the nearest pit or ocean or volcano you can find. Maybe it's because you're too exhausted to give a damn anymore if this all blows up in your face. Or maybe it’s that last, bottom of the barrel drop of hope keeping you pinned here, waiting for Javi’s response.

“How…” he cuts himself off, shaking his slightly as though to refocus his thoughts. “How long has it been for you? How many universes?” he wonders, and your jaw drops, stunned by his easy acceptance.

“Y-You believe me?”

“I don’t know what I believe.” Javi shrugs awkwardly, like he doesn’t know what else to do. “All I do know for certain are two things: firstly, before today I’ve never seen that thing in your hands and now you’re asking me about the multiverse and saying strange things my One would never say. And secondly, according to the legendary Mr. Nicolas Cage in City of Angels, some things are true whether you believe in them or not.” He nods his head, gaze solemn and face sincere. “I think you are telling me the truth.”

“Thank you,” you choke out, emotions bubbling to the surface. “I-I’m so close to giving up, Javi. You have no idea…what I’ve seen, what’s at stake…and I-I don’t—I can’t—”

“Hey,” Javi murmurs, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze, soft and without judgment. “You’re not alone. I’m here and you don’t have to carry all of this weight by yourself anymore. Let me take some of the load. Let me help you.”

It scares you more than you thought it would—his loyal commitment. He has no idea the mess he’s stepping into. But still he stands there, willing to do or be anything you need.

“I don’t know how you can,” you admit, frowning as you realize it’s the truth. “The cube it’s…” difficult, hellish, a gigantic pain in the ass, “it’s not what it seems like.”

“Okay,” Javi says it so easily, nodding again like this whole thing makes absolute logical sense. He glances away for a second towards the beach and crashing blue waves, before looking back at you like he’s reached a decision. “Tell me about it. Tell me everything.”

And you do.

You tell Javi about your universe. Your universe where you work as an archivist examining stolen goods from art heists; where you’re an introvert who listens to One Direction on loop and knows the menus of the six restaurants near your apartment by heart; where Marcus is your boyfriend who loves movies almost as much as Javi does; where you picked up the golden cube, thinking it was an easy puzzle to solve, and turned your life into a nightmare.

You’ve experienced seventeen different universes. You’ve been to outer space and different countries both real and mythical. Seen aliens, dreamstones, and vampires. Worked as a waitress, a prop assistant, a superhero and a secretary. Your hands have fired a gun, thrown a knife, shaken a snow globe and cradled a baby.

You and Brown Eyes are usually together. Sometimes not yet officially. Once only mere colleagues.

Brown Eyes has loved you, hurt you, protected you, lied to you, looked so much like Marcus and nothing at all like Marcus. You’ve been his girlfriend, his fiancée, his wife, the mother of his child. His love at first sight.

The thief tried to steal a wine bottle from the Devil. (Yes, that Devil.)

The Devil retaliated by capturing the thief’s heart—his physical one and the love of his life, his Dearheart—and trapping them in a torturous cycle.

His Dearheart is you and you are his Dearheart. You’re also Javi’s One, Oberyn's Honeybee, Din’s Cyar’ika, and so, so many more. The only person you want to be is Specs. You’re not sure if she even exists anymore. Smothered by the weight of it all. But there’s a piece of Dearheart which still persists after all this time, all these merges—maybe Specs isn’t totally lost either.

You made a deal with Dio. All you need to do is solve the cube.

But that was before Max’s fangs. Before Marcus’ wife and daughter. Before Joel’s death.

You’ve talked yourself nearly hoarse by the end of it all. You and Javi are sitting inside the house now on a couch that looks like it costs more than six months’ worth of your apartment’s rent. Javi has the cube in his hands, but he hasn’t looked at it the entire time you’ve been talking, only watches you.

Now that you’ve finished, his eyebrows furrow, thinking hard. His silence lasts barely fifteen seconds before he licks his lips, asks, “So, if you turn the cube, that’s it? You’re gone to another universe, everything resets to normal, and I forget this whole conversation?”

You hesitate to answer, not sure you understand his tone. Is he asking to make sure he has the facts right, or is he asking how to get rid of you? You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s changed his mind about helping you.

“Hey,” Javi says for a second time, nudging his knee against yours. His expression has turned hard now, nostrils flared, a look of firm determination. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. We’re going to figure this out together.”

“O-Okay,” you give him a jerky nod, still a bit stunned by his selflessness. “You’re right though. If we do attempt to solve the cube, the second I turn it I’ll be gone and you’ll forget everything.”

“Well that fucking sucks,” Javi says eloquently, a scowl on his lips. “One of the most important conversations of my life and—” he swipes a hand through the air in a cutting motion, “nothing.”

“I think it’s better not knowing,” you reply quietly. “I used to not understand what people meant when they said ignorance is bliss, but now I get it. There are millions of millions of millions of universes out there—a lot of them good, and a whole lot of them bad. I’ve seen seventeen—such a tiny, tiny number in comparison—and I’m barely keeping myself together. On paper it sounds amazing, all those possibilities to imagine, but to actually experience it? Trust me, Javi, it’s too much to handle. Our minds are too fragile.”

He hums a soft note, running his fingertips over the side of the cube, then: “You know you’re welcome to stay, right?”

Shock slithers down your spine before it sinks its teeth into your side, numbness spreading through your body. “I appreciate it. Really. But staying here isn’t an option. You and your One deserve a happy life together without the memory of me ruining that.”

In all honesty, you’d love to stay here. It’s a beautiful place, a beautiful home. And Javi…Even without One’s memories swirling around in your head, you could easily see yourself falling in love with him. One is a very, very lucky girl.

Javi frowns, clearly not liking your answer, but he doesn’t argue with you. Instead, before you can say anything else or move to stop him, he attempts to turn the cube.

Your heart lodges in your throat. Acting on raw instinct, you throw out a hand to wrap around the cube as though you could somehow miraculously keep this moment intact.

Except nothing happens.

Javi’s grip has no effect on the cube, just as the thief’s efforts had failed.

For a few seconds all you can do is stare at Javi’s hands, breathing hard.

“Why–” You bite your lip, looking up at Javi. He blinks back at you, no trace of fear of what might have happened if the cube had actually turned, and suddenly you want to slap the man. You want to shake him by the shoulders and scream at him what the hell were you thinking?!

“It isn’t fair,” Javi says, halting your furious train of thought. “You shouldn’t be the one who has to fix our mistake.”

“Our?”

“If you and Dearheart are the same, then me and the thief must be too,” he counters, looking at you like it should all be obvious.

Something sharp digs into your ribcage, not unlike a knife’s blade. You’d never considered that angle before, that all of the Brown Eyes you’d met were different versions of the thief, because you’d always been thinking of Marcus.

“You’re stuck in your universe just like the thief is stuck in his,” you say, looking down again at where your hand and his are both holding onto the cube. A new feeling prickles along your skin, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “It’s part of the cube’s punishment. You can’t leave.”

“It isn’t fair,” Javi repeats, but he’s missing your point.

“Javi,” you lean closer, the hand that’s not holding the cube tapping his wrist, “you can’t leave.”

His brows furrow, trying to understand, and then you see the exact moment it all clicks. Eyes lighting up with the same little seedling of hope you’re cradling within the fractured pieces of your heart.

“On three?” he asks, voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, not trusting your voice not to crack.

“One…” he starts, positioning his fingers so they wrap around the cube except for the side facing you. “Two…” you steel yourself, eyes on Javi’s face, memorizing all the features you can in case this doesn’t work. “Three.”

You rotate the cube’s segment, gritting your teeth when you hear the quiet telltale click of it locking in place.

For the next ten seconds you don’t move a single muscle, scared to even breathe. Javi stares at you, looking just as anxious as you feel.

But nothing happens.

You’re not sucked into a sudden whirlwind. Javi doesn’t vanish or change in the slightest. The two of you remain seated on the same overly expensive couch like nothing extraordinary occurred at all.

“Wow,” Javi drawls out the word, raspy with stunned disbelief. “That was worse than a fucking heart attack.”

A laugh bubbles out of your throat, almost like a wheeze. “Holy shit,” you gasp, wondering if this is how it feels to win the lottery. This is better than the lottery though, than all the money in the whole world. You’re finally going home again. “It worked. It actually fucking worked.”

“Keep going, keep going,” he urges, nudging you with his elbow like an excited toddler.

You turn another side and another and another. Javi’s hand keeps a steady grip the whole time, anchoring you to this universe, while also moving to accommodate each step. He offers suggestions here and there, the two of you working together to match each of the symbols together. Your determination burns hot, eating away at the negative emotions until they’re nothing more than ashes in the wind, no thoughts in your head except I’m coming Marcus. I’m coming home.

Without warning, several of the hearts light up white all at once, startling you. You think of the dreamstone, of the destruction that followed and Dio’s arrival, and a current of fear slices through you.

Then Javi’s exclaiming “Look!” and you follow his gaze, noticing only two sides of the cube are actually glowing. Just the intertwined hearts and the striped hearts. Because their sides are solved, nine matching hearts in the squares. And after a childhood spent solving puzzles of all kinds, your mind races ahead of your fidgeting fingers, imagining the next step and oh.

Sucking in a quiet breath, you twist the right side of the cube upwards and when it clicks, there’s no denying it anymore. One more turn in the same direction and all the symbols will line up perfectly on all sides. The Infinity Cube will finally, finally be solved.

Your heart skips a beat with anticipation, eyes slowly lifting to meet soft brown ones. “This is it, Javi.”

“This is it.” He smiles, all dimpled and sweet, and his other hand comes up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer until your foreheads are pressed together. “If you see that thief again, tell him he better not fuck things up again, ‘kay? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us. Don’t ever forget that.”

This close, he’s all tan skin and sharp nose and scruffy jawline.

This close, he isn’t only Javi anymore. He’s the love of your lives. A thief. A warrior. A prince and an agent. And so, so much more.

“Never, Brown Eyes.”

You turn the Infinity Cube for the final time, all six sides filled with matching hearts.

You don’t get the chance to see them light up or what Javi’s face looks like in the aftermath of it all. You don’t get the chance to see much of anything, really.

White light immediately floods your vision, swallowing up everything in a flash, and you’re swept away into the unknown along with it.

#javi g x reader #javi g x you #javi gutierrez x reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #the infinity cube #pedrostories #my fic #my writing

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