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#late night fic read

crybaby-bkg · 8 months

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asking nerd Bakugou to give you a ‘pearl necklace’ and he starts grumbling about you tryna drain him dry but instead of pulling out his cock, he pulls out his phone to actually search for a pearl necklace </3

and to both his surprise and embarrassment, his phone is quickly tossed away in favor of you showing him what you’re actually asking for. he’s not mad though—not when you end up looking so pretty covered in white, grinning, and asking for another necklace <3

#I wanted to write this full out but my head actually feels like it’s gonna explode #I’ve been feeling a little more inspired lately tho which is great!!#I’ve been reading and watching (more watching) a lot of creative works/media #and I always forget how much it helps inspire creativity #I wrote a poem last night for the first time in a month I think #and now I wanna continue writing my original story and my tengen fic #I just hope the academic week doesn’t drain me too much this week #bc I would love to write more ;-; I miss it!!#bakugou treats! 🍬#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#my tags r still gone tho I hate this shit

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rustyarcade · 7 months

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None of you will ever understand Wednesday, Enid, and Bianca friend group like I do NONE OF YOU GRAHHHHH!!! (A reuploaded 🧵 from my twt)

They lay on the roof of Ophelia Hall and stare at the stars above them like once a week to talk about literally everything and nothing at the same time

They have the constellations memorized at this point and talk about them like they’re old friends

They talk about their moms a lot. And the night when Crackstone was revived. Or whatever other internal issue. It usually ends up with one of them crying. Almost always Enid. But there were times where Bianca cried. And Wednesday did once too. But no one likes mentioning it

It’s the one time a week where Bianca doesn’t have to keep her bossy, queen bee demeanor, Enid doesn’t have to keep her peppy, always happy attitude, and Wednesday doesn’t have to completely shut out the world around her

Sometimes when it’s a rainy night, they run into the forest and just chase each other for hours. When they get tired, the sit up against a tree and talk. But as soon as that energy returns, they go back to running and giggling

They consider each other closer than Yoko is with Enid, Divina is with Bianca, and Eugene is with Wednesday

They are each others biggest supporters no matter what and are willing to sacrifice themselves to make sure the others are happy

Their friendship isn’t loud to the world it’s more of a winky thing. Not that they’re hiding it, but there’s no need to announce it either. But at the same time it’s so obvious that they’re friends

They tease each other so much. It’s their love language. They’ll make comments to each other. They’ll pretend to throw each others’ stuff to make each other laugh

When fencing club is over they’ll talk for HOURS in the club room afterwards and even do some more spars if they’re up for it

Bianca was the third ever person Wednesday hugged (first being Enid, then Eugene) but it was after such a vulnerable moment that as much as she’d love to brag about it to everyone, Bianca will take it to the grave just for Wednesday

Enid loves buying them all subtle matching gifts. From plushes to bracelets to anything really, Enid will find one for each of them and theme them accordingly

She especially loves getting them powerpuff girl themed stuff. Bianca is Blossom, Enid is Bubbles, and Wednesday is Buttercup easy

If Yoko is wenclair nation president, Bianca is vice president. She loves their relationship and is honestly so happy for them. Both reached out to her for advice. She felt like a proud mother watching them realize their feelings right in front of her eyes.

Wednesday and Enid’s relationship isn’t overbearing in their friendship. Bianca is never treated like a third wheel and Wednesday and Enid have the absolute respect and comfortability being themselves around Bianca

They were the first people Bianca told about her being Poly and Pan. She was terrified and so nervous but they accepted her immediately and let her know that she could tell them anything

They’re the biggest biayokovina Stans as well

Everyone at school knows they’re the most powerful trio in the universe and they love each other so much UGH-

Ok thanks for reading goodnight feel free to add ur own ideas/headcanons abt them cuz I love them so much

#wenclair #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #wednesday 2022 #bianca barclay #headcanon #I remember crying while writing this #and now I’m crying while reading this #BiaYokovina #I NEED to write fics based on these headcanons soon istg #can u tell I think about them alot #cuz I do #late night arcade posting #I love them sm #it’s not even funny

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eshithepetty · 2 years

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Concept: after the events of the manga, Mob, now seeking to accept all of himself, becomes looser with the usage of his powers. His vast strength, once so tightly kept to himself, dense and suffocating, expands. As a result, things start happening that he doesn't exactly mean to happen. Little things, little accidents - tying his shoes without thinking, flickering the lights when he's upset, the plants around him standing taller when he's happy. And they pile up, little things becoming big things, until the whole of seasoning city is pretty much coated in his aura. A gentle presence now that it isn't so concentrated in one place.

The espers in the area can obviously feel it, but the non-espers come to notice it too in other, subtler ways - the plums beggining to bloom earlier in spring. The weather forecasts becoming more unreliable, as sunny days come when it was meant to be cloudy, or wind sometimes picks up out of nowhere, or rain arrives sooner than expected. A lot of car accidents get saved from a lethal end just from seemingly sheer luck. The creepy sounds that one and another have been haunted by dissapear suddenly. And at times, out of nowhere, more than before, people stop to think, just how lucky they are.

From this, new urban legends arise, and the common consensus that believers arrive at in the end, is that a benelovent spirit has entered town to bless it with small miracles. But at the center of it remains, in truth, an unintentional protector - just one small boy, named Kageyama Shigeo.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #kageyama shigeo #headcanons #late night rambles #i've been reading 'the trolley problem' on ao3 recently...#REALLY recommend esp to those who love mobs character. it explores the after effects of the final arc so intrestingly #and i love how it approaches those changes as just another chapter in mob's life - he still has challenges. they're just different ones now #I LOVE that <3 #we're never done growing #and i appreciate the strange existentialist elements in it too... its neat :)#anyways this is just something i thought of while reading that so not exactly related. but i wanted to ramble about the fic series anyways #jfjdkfjgh #my own post

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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in which eddie is semi-nonverbal and steve notices despite eddie’s best efforts. cuddles ensue | 1.8k

They’re hanging out at Eddie’s, just the two of them, when Steve notices it for the first time. He’s not known as the most perceptive guy ever, but he’s actually rather good at these things. And he’s starting to get good at getting a feel for Eddie, too, even though it’s made harder by his dramatics and his flourishes and all those exaggerated gestures, mimics and mood swings. Eddie is fluent in all things sarcasm and drama, both of which Steve had issues reading in the beginning but is now pretty good with.

After fighting an interdimensional monster wizard creep, nearly dying a few times and spending time together almost every day because we stick together now, Steve knows Eddie.

He’s not sure if they’re friends, exactly, but that doesn’t really stop him from knowing all of his tones, his moods, and even most of his music these days. Steve just watches. Listens. Remembers. He’s shit at talking about himself much around anyone but Robin, but he always makes a point of knowing as much as he can about his friends. And Eddie.

Which is why the sudden strain in Eddie’s voice catches him off guard. It’s not the I didn’t get any sleep last night because all I can think of is how I almost died kinda strain. Nor is it the It’s 5pm and I haven’t eaten yet and I don’t want you to find out kind. Steve still makes sure to make them sandwiches as he listens to Eddie rambling off about something or other.

And that’s the thing. Steve listens. He always does, but Eddie is rambling. And he sounds almost miserable about it. The words don’t make sense, they lack their usual enthusiasm when Eddie talks DnD or music — which, he’s doing both? There’s no connection. And when Steve turns around, sandwiches secondary to that fucking strain in Eddie’s voice, he sees that his eyes are dull. The smile forced. And he keeps talking even though his tone indicates that he’s done.

Steve frowns slightly and watches Eddie, who’s walking mindlessly, aimlessly, pacing and stopping every few seconds, looking a little lost every time he does.

The thing is, there is no reason for Eddie to talk. No point to his words. No calculation in his movement, no burning off of excess energy, no kick in his step, no stomp for emphasis.

Steve notices. He sees. He listens. And thinking back, Eddie’s reaction time to just about anything Steve said today was either close to nothing, or very delayed.

It dawns on him then, as he looks Eddie up and down, noticing the fidgeting hands, the tense shoulders, the stiff grimace of a smile. It dawns on him because he knows this look, this behaviour. Not exactly like this, but close.

He has a hunch and hopes that whatever they have built over the past weeks is strong enough for Eddie not to freak out on him over this.

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts him, and it shouldn’t be this easy. It wouldn’t be, normally, but today Eddie just shuts up immediately, mouth closed, eyes on Steve.

“Yeah?” Four seconds. That’s how long that word took.

Steve hopes the expression on his face is kind, not patronising. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Eddie blinks. Swallows. Two, three, four. “Do what, Steve?” And immediately he is defensive, taking on an act because maybe that’s makes this easier for him, but even his performance is strained.

“You don’t have to talk all the time,” he says, and only realises once the words have left his mouth that they sound wrong, like he’s annoyed with Eddie’s constant babbling and needs some silence. Which he doesn’t.

Eddie scoffs before he can take it back. He scoffs, spins in a circle and sighs deeply, expertly bridging the four seconds it takes him once again to open his mouth and speak.

“Oh, that’s new! That’s new, Harrington, I’ve never heard that one before. What’s next, you gonna call me a Freak? Maybe tell me the bands I listen to aren’t music? Really sorry, man, and I hate to break it to you, but if you wanna hang out with someone who doesn’t ‘have to talk all the time’, I’m not your man!”

Even the anger seems dull, the little speech far from what it could have been, like Eddie’s brain isn’t quite there, like it doesn’t work today, like the words just won’t come and decide to leave him hanging with his failed dramatics.

Still, Steve approaches him slowly, his hands raised in a placating motion. “That’s not what I meant, and I’m sorry it came out wrong, Eds. I don’t mind your talking, you gotta believe me. But…”

How does he say this next part, this next assumption, without accidentally insulting Eddie again? Without sounding like a complete and total jackass?

“You know El, right? The one with the superpowers?”

Eddie nods.

“Well, when she came to us, she could, like, barely talk. Her vocabulary wasn’t there yet, sure, but that’s not the only reason. And now she’s made wonderful progress and her vocabulary is pretty decent, but still she gets those days where she just… She can’t talk. Or won’t. Maybe both. Sometimes both, yeah. And on some days she will, like, force herself. But I can tell when she does because she’s miserable about it and it sounds like hard labour and she’s always on the verge of tears about it. And… I don’t know, Eds, but you kinda look a lot like her now, and even if you don’t, which is fine, sorry for bringing that up, but even if you don’t have days like that, just know that you don’t always have to talk, yeah? One way or another, there’s not a price you have to pay in stories or running commentary just to be part of the group. You could never talk ever again and we’d still stick together, yeah? That’s what I meant. Sorry if that’s a jackass kinda thing to say.”

Steve hates how he’s always out there fumbling for words and can never get them to sound right. Especially now, when he needs Eddie to understand. He always needs Eddie to understand. It’s a bit of an urge lately. He just wants him to feel safe.

It’s more than four seconds now, and Steve stops counting at ten, acutely aware of the silence this time. He lets Eddie have his silence, though, leaves him room inside it.

“That’s not a jackass kinda thing to say, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, and Steve swears he has never heard his voice in such a quiet, vulnerable tone. The quiet always helps El, too. Make all those words she can’t say a little less loud and imposing, make it all a little more okay. Not so scary.

“Good,” Steve whispers, and maybe that’s one step too far, but Eddie sags a little bit and for a moment Steve fears that he’s about to sway forward. Not that he wouldn’t catch Eddie.

“What do… How. Do you help El through it?” Small, vulnerable, confused, and Steve heart breaks a little for him.

“I do,” he says, equally quiet, smile on his face. “We always lie down somewhere because you only have to talk when you sit or stand, right? Lying down, no one can make you talk. So we lie down, she’s usually resting on top of me, and either I talk to her about, well… Anything, really. Or I shut up. Sometimes there’s music. Really, there’s many ways to get through it, but the main two things are lying down and not talking on her part, y’know?”

And the way Eddie looks at him makes Steve think that maybe they are friends, because you don’t let just anyone see you this vulnerable. You don’t look at just anyone with your big brown doe eyes like they’re opening a whole new world for you.

“Sounds great,” he croaks and that tension is back in his shoulders, so obvious that Steve wants to reach out and massage it away.

He smiles and searches Eddie’s eyes, absolutely sure of the situation now, and maybe having a cure for it. “Eddie Munson, would you like to go lie down and not talk for a while?”

Eddie stares at him as though he’s calculating the risk, as though he’s weighing his options. He could still tell Steve to go and he’d be out of here in a heartbeat if being alone is what Eddie really needs. But then he nods.

“I think maybe I do, yeah.”

“With El, I only ask her yes or no questions. You can just nod or shake your head. Okay? Don’t know if that works for you but, well, we can find out I guess. Yeah?”

Eddie nods, and Steve smiles. He goes to the kitchen area to grab the sandwiches he made earlier and then lands back right before Eddie, smile still in place.

“Not to be weird or anything, but I think this might work best on your bed. Is that okay for you? If that’s not okay, we can just lie down on the couch.”

Eddie looks back to his room, then back at Steve. He nods.

“Your bed?” Steve asks again just to make sure, and Eddie nods again.

And this is how they find themselves lying on Eddie’s bed, Eddie’s head resting on Steve’s chest. His fingers find their way into the metalhead’s locks at some point and Eddie purrs, which makes Steve laugh for a moment. He doesn’t take his hand away, though.

Steve doesn’t talk like he does with El sometimes. With Eddie, he just basks in the silence and lets the other boy soak up as much of it as he needs. There’s a smile on his lips the whole time, and he didn’t think he could smile so much around Eddie Munson, especially on one of his bad days.

But he does.

They even fall asleep like that, Eddie lying on top of Steve, cuddling into him. Steve lets him. Even the next morning when they’re both awake but not willing to break the silence yet even though Eddie looks much better already, he doesn’t make any moves to get away from Steve. He stays there, head on his chest as they both just bask in the moment.

Bask in the company.

Bask on the threshold of something just to the right of friendship. Something more.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #i have to stop writing shit late at night it’s almost 4am send help #all those writers who write wonderfully short stories that give me all the emotions without useless words?? rip to you but i’m different 😔#(that’s me saying i wish i could be brief but what was meant to be a drabble is now 1.8k words and ugh. why am i like this)#dio words #this fic contains a lot of words for a nonverbal fic I’m such a fake fan huh #is the entire beginning of this just me projecting and could i easily cut it and have the fic be better? yes. but i don’t write to be good #i write to be a little less insane. we’re not winning yet girlies #i should read this before posting but frankly it’s almost 4am i am barely awake

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paragonrobits · 6 months

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Shut Out

(It was something Marceline yelled at herself a lot about, later. Something she'd remember for a long, long time, even after Finn passed on and didn't come back, when the world moved on and forgot him, and after Simon was gone, and after there was so little holding them together that she was gone from Bonnie's life, for a while, and it was this:

When Finn spiraled, he spiraled inward. From the outside, it looked fine. But from the outside, you didn't hear anything about it just like the time he almost ate the food of the Fruit Witches on purpose, or the tower he built into space and almost didn't come back, or all the other times he very quietly and serenely did... something extreme.

It would be nice, she thought, to say she never felt like she screwed it up and wasn't there for him when he needed it, like he always was for her. It would be nice to say so. It just wouldn't be true, inside her heart.)

-----

From the outside, people said later, Finn didn't abruptly stop talking to everyone. He just slowly started slipping away.

A gradual process. He talked less and less to people. He didn't ask around for interesting puzzles or dungeons to delve, or asked around for monsters to fight, he just went and did it.

Marceline and Bonnie both heard less and less from him. He was an increasingly rare presence, he wasn't on the phone as much, he didn't show up at the places he used to hang out with them, movie night didn't happen...

(Marceline didn't know the particulars then. She just knew something was wrong, but she dismissed it.)

Finn spent a long time, thinking about it, when the coughing fits started to get worse. Jake was gone, by then. It didn't feel the same anymore. He started thinking a lot about cessation, and inevitability.

(Marceline found out later.)

He thought: "Will Bonnie and Marceline be sad when I'm gone? Will they care?"

There's a follow-up thought. It's sharp and bitter and the sort of thing you think after too long spiraling inward, too much time spent blaming yourself, and too much time spent smiling around them while thinking a lot about how ugly you are compared to them; how unwholesome, how brutish and rough and just out of place.

You start thinking maybe they're just humoring you. The goofy kid that solved all their problems and was probably more invested in... whatever this relationship was, then they ever wore. You start thinking a lot about how horrible the word 'humoring' starts to look.

(Marceline spent a good, long while upset about it.)

You think: No.

You think: Why would they?

Sometimes you think loud and angry about it, in bitter and painful thoughts that you'll never say to them so it comes out twisted and bloody. Its stuff that's had years to percolate and bubble up, that you never said to them and just kept privately wondering why they bothered with something that didn't belong anywhere anymore.

(Later, Marceline wonders if it would have been enough to just SAY how important he was; how important he had always been. That just about everything good in her life was because she'd met him all those years ago, and decided to hang out with him. Simon coming back into her life, her and Bonnie talking again, her finding peace with her mother's memory thanks to BMO... all of it was, in some way, because of him.

It didn't make her feel better, though.)

And sometimes it just leaves you in a tired whisper, and when the coughing starts, and you see the blood on your hands, and you know what the cost of having fought the Lich is, and you decide: maybe its easier this way.

He lies to himself and says they'll forget him fast, if they even care that much.

He knew better, deep down. But it was harder to see that.

-----

And its later, honestly not that much later but feeling too long to her, when she comes floating down to the places where someone matching his description has been hanging out, and her hand bangs against the door, so hard the windows shake. She could just break her way in, but somehow she's scared to just do that, like it will break some kind of spell and make everything come falling apart.

She just bangs her fist on the door, almost hard enough to smash it right off the hinges.

"Come on! I know you're in there!"

Bang-bang-bang.

She's not exactly yelling yet, but her voice is taking that slightly hoarse quality that feels worse; like seeing the cracks in glass before it actually explodes all over your face, or feeling the fractures in your bones from too much stress for too long about to make your whole body cave in from that final tiny bit of Too Much-ness.

"Finn! Please! It's me! You know its me!"

Bang, bang-bang. It's almost thundering now.

"Open the glob-damned door and TALK to me already!"

It's almost a scream.

And now, the next time she speaks, its after a soft noise. It might be something like crying. It might also be the noise a door makes when someone places their head against it, past the point where desperation is winning so hard there's nothing to do but feel the cold hopelessness slide its way through you.

Marceline Abadeer has been through a lot. She has seen centuries come and go; she saw the last great civilization disappear overnight, and she's seen too many kingdoms grow and wither away so fast that it was hardly worth acknowledging them at all.

And she's seen friends come and go; ashes on the wind.

'This is your fault' is in the back of her mind, no matter how much she knows that's not really fair to herself.

Somehow, this feels so much worse.

When she talks next, her voice is ragged, and her hands shake. She has slain tyrants and monsters, she has survived the impossible without blinking, and she has been the fixed presence around which the world turns onward. And now she feels like a child again, alone and lost and hurting.

Again and again, she thinks of people that she thought could have been her family, only for her to drive them away somehow, on purpose or not. Everything stays.

"Dude. Don't shut me out. Don't do this." And then, she almost can't say anything at all, a horrible miserable croak making the word come out small. "Please."

There's no response.

Again, she gently puts her head against the doorway.

An unfamiliar voice from behind her says, "You know the weird human thing?"

Marceline turns; too quickly to make it casual. Hope and fear and a bit of outrage at whoever THIS was intruding on the moment all cling together. She stifles it all down, puts on a serious face.

She wonders who this person is; it looks like a small stone, with tiny arms and legs. It's not anyone familiar, but she's too scared to think straight and just says, "Yeah? Who're you?"

The stone person shrugs. "I'm just a rock. Came to life about seven years back during some thing with wizard and meteors. Think I saw the blonde guy then. You know him?"

She doesn't bother thinking about the time frame of if she knew anything Finn had been doing at the time; not important. "Yes. Where is he?"

The stone person blinks. It's a surprisingly emotive response. There's sadness and helplessness and even a small bit of 'good now someone ELSE can deal with it' that makes her want to bite. The stone person says, "It's a long story," they say. "I'll show you out back."

-----

Marceline had seen the grave when she'd flown in. She hadn't paid much attention to it, with other things on her mind, and perhaps she didn't want to think about it. She can't think about it now. As soon as she saw it, and the stone person leading her towards it, everything shut down.

Everything went gray. A cold and numbing incomprehension oozed in, and she moved like she was on automatic.

"You see that kind of sickness now and then," the stone person says. "The walking death, some people call it. You get it worse when you get near the places the, uh. the Lich King used to have," and they trail off. The Lich has been gone for a long time, and still people don't like talking about it, or the places it's been.

Marceline is not thinking about it right now. She is not thinking about anything. There's just awful dread all around.

The stone person continues. "I don't really know who he was. He just showed up here a few months back, before I came here, and I guess he was a roommate or something." Marceline silently does the math and works it out; after Finn had talked less and less to them, like he was... ashamed of something. And some part of her keeps looking at the times they did talk; she's asking herself 'Was there something I could have done?'

She doesn't know.

"You cough," the stone person says. "You get weaker and weaker, like... the sickness eats something in you. And you start-"

"Coughing blood," Marceline says tiredly. She remembers a phone conversation with Finn, before he had completely dropped off the map. She remembers the coughing.

'Could I have gotten him, if I'd tried?'

She doesn't know.

The stone person glances at her. Marceline remembers her mother, and thinks about Finn. The same sickness. Somehow, she's not surprised. Her life is a closed circle, and the people she drives away without meaning to go out of her life the same way. "Yeah," the stone person says.

They start talking more, and Marceline isn't really listening. She's reacting, yes; she is speaking and responding to the lines she feels she is supposed to, but inside, she isn't thinking anything at all.

Some part of her, the greater Marceline, is peering out and going through all the times she was around Finn before he went off the map, and studying it for signs. For moments she should have noticed, that she WOULD have noticed if she'd cared, or if she was worth a damn, or if she even really DID care about him as much as she thought and, and it is too much.

She wants to scream. She wants to dissolve her body in a stew of nightmares, she wants to rip off her skin and run to the farthest places of the world with her monstrosity exposed for all to see, and she just keeps thinking monster recited over and over, a magic spell announcing what she's done to the whole world.

Huntress Wizard didn't notice it; Bubblegum didn't, not Flame King or any of the other people who could have, and somehow Marceline feels that her not seeing it makes it worse.

Her fingers slip. The umbrella falls down.

She barely notices. The sight of the unmarked grave, forgotten by the world, hurts a lot worse than the sun.

------

She talks to the others about it. That makes it better, in some small way; the world doesn't notice or care, but she can carry the news to everyone and see if that makes a difference. It does. There are tears, and there is mostly a stunned disbelief.

Somehow, Huntress Wizard hurts a lot more than some of the others. Flame King is calm, and you would have to notice the flames around the court of the flame people erupting to see what she was really thinking; she's not sure Lumpy Space Princess entirely gets what's happened, since she just keeps insisting Finn was in hiding somewhere, pulling some kind of a plot. "You'll see, he'll be back any day with some grody thing on his belt." Marceline doesn't say anything, just leaves. But Huntress Wizard's face remains calm, and composed; its a mask, Marceline knows.

She sees a flicker of expression, and when Huntress Wizard gravely thanks her, it says much that Huntress Wizard, normally so composed and so completely in control of herself, has to sit down.

Simon looks lost. He politely says 'No,' as if he can just deny it. There is a lot more to it. She doesn't really remember much. She remembers a feeling like a dam inside herself started breaking more and more as they spoke, and then it all came smashing apart, and there's just words, and hurt, and it was her fault and she did this and-

And he is just there, he sits there, and only around him does she let it all out. Later, she remembers the terrified incomprehension on his face, the denial, and it reminds her so much of when he had started losing himself to the crown that it hurts in too many ways to fit inside her heart right now.

-------

Bubblegum is technically the first she tells.

She first tells her, before anyone else, over the phone. And she is struck by how Bubblegum takes a long, long time to reply, and it is a very quiet "Thank you for letting me know," and the call cutting off which such violence that it punches through the gray misery. She finds out later that they had to fix the official Candy Kingdom phone, and works out clues from there.

Bubblegum cares. She was the first one of them to meet Finn, to care about him, to tie him to the world. She was always first for him, one way or another, and some part of Marceline thinks that Bonnie should have been the one to bury him. Whether its true or not, she has an image of him as a young boy being carried into the threshold of Ooo by her; as a young man, it should have been her leading his body out of Ooo.

And Bubblegum calls her down, and Marceline knows something with her is... wrong.

Her eyes are twitching. Her glasses are askew. Her hair, usually a shiny mass of bright pink, is dulled and somehow twitching here and there; she doesn't look right, with filth and grease and the faintly acrid smell of substances unknown to human scientific knowledge. She twitches a little more whenever she moves, and when she directly looks at Marceline, there is a terrible feeling in her.

Marceline knows desperation, and grief, and something that might be called madness. Bubblegum's eyes suggest things Marceline doesn't want to think about, desperate and clinging to a horrible possibility.

"We don't have much time," Bubblegum says. "We need to do this now, before any more decay sets in."

Marceline knows what she means, somehow. Shock cuts through the apathy she falls into with grief, and she says, "Do what?"

Bubblegum tells her. And she indicates a shovel.

"Hurry up, if you want to help," she says.

-----

The following night, they go to the place Finn had been crashing at, and where he had wasted away, letting himself be forgotten. Simon is there with them, and from the glances he shares with Bubblegum, Marceline wonders: did they talk about this in private? Where they planning something?

Did they start this as soon as Bubblegum heard?

The three of them have shovels. The three of them have a willingness to do what must be done.

She doesn't think it'll work. But she has to hope.

They leave that night. The work goes quickly with three of them, and Marceline all but rips the ground apart for all of them.

They leave an emptied grave.

-------

Afterwards, they don't talk much about what they did. Either the grave robbing, or what happens later.

There are bargains to be made. There are acts of genius too horrible and frightening to consider, and yet it's so easy for Simon and Bubblegum, and Marceline has to wonder how long they were planning for something like this.

"I've done something like this before," Bubblegum says as the procedure happens, taking its time to... do its work. Simon is there, watching it happen with a morbid solemnity that is somehow worse than anything else. Some part of her sees a shadow of the Ice King in it; not the madness or forgetting himself, but the willingness to do something she'd rather not admit he could do. "It's different with candy people. The mind plays a process; it's really like just waking them up?"

"And a human mind?" Marceline says. She hasn't spoken much. She remembers moving around in a daze, as though she were the dead one instead.

Bubblegum is quiet. The only noise is her machines working, of strange fluids sluicing through pipes, chemicals being electrified, and a portal to somewhere else opening up.

"I don't know," Bubblegum says, carefully, like someone trying not to scream.

"The soul has to want to come back," Simon says. His voice is quiet and tired.

All three of them are quiet for a long time.

They stare at the revivification machine. Lights flash, fluid gushes into a central chamber large enough to hold a single human form (a very large one, admittedly), and arcane energies Marceline doesn't want to understand reach out to some other world.

Atop of this, like a lightning rod, is a capsule containing a badly woven, threadbare pink sweater.

Marceline wishes she had something more tangible to give Finn a road home besides feelings and wishes and the desperate longing to tell him how much he means to her.

-------

None of them really talk that much about what happens at the end.

"I had to fight to bring it the rest of the way," Marceline says, when she is asked. She does not tell who she fought, or where, or why it had to be done. Her eyes are distant and tired, and its too exhausting to explain the how's.

Simon had arcane knowledge. Bubblegum had scientific understanding, and the two of them built something impossible, beyond the scope of her original de-corpsinator serum. Marceline had something else: authority.

Whatever price there was to pay, or that she made some thing out in the world do, she would pay it without hesitation.

And in the depths of the aether, at the very boundary of life and death, so close to a point of no return she couldn't dare have hope it would work out-

Doing the one thing she had to offer, to fix this, to save him-

(Marceline reaches across, holding up love and memory and all the things she wanted to say shining like a spotlight into the Dead Worlds.

There is a long moment of silence; too long, and too late.

And then.

And then a single hand, shaped by memory and stubborn self-image into a human arm, clasps her hand as she pulls him back in.)

And so Finn the human took his second breath.

-------

There was a lot, after that. Too much for her to remember as much more than a distant blur.

Lumpy Space Princess bragged about to everyone; that she had seen it coming, that she knew it was all a big scheme by Finn to fool some bad guy or another and boom he'd GOT THEM. Probably.

There were words, between her and Finn and Bubblegum, and some just between him and Simon, and a lot between himself and Bubblegum.

She doesn't know exactly what, between them all. There is something intimate and close and raw between himself and Bonnibel Bubblegum. It's friendship, yes. It's love, too, but its hard to say if it is romantic or not, or if putting a term to it would cheapen something that's too hard for either of them to spell out. But it feels private, and Marceline does not intrude.

She is there, all the same, when he meets again with Flame King, and the other people close to his heart in one way or another. There is relief, and there's anger, too. Sometimes people get enraged when the finality of death winds up not being a factor; lashing out is a part of that. But they still have time to make amends afterwards, once the anger is gone.

Marceline is not there for the things Huntress Wizard says to him. She leads him to Huntress Wizard, and departs, but she remembers the look Huntress Wizard gives her; grateful, not quite believing this was happening.

It said 'Whatever you did; what cost you paid. Thank you."

(Afterwards, she is not so shy with her feelings, or so unwilling to be honest about them. It is sad, that it can take a lot to say so, but such is the nature of love.)

And then, there is what happens between Marceline and Finn.

She and him, yes.

(She hugs him, afterwards. "I'm sorry," she says, over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

She isn't sure what for, exactly. Just a generalized wave of sorrow and grief and relief, all mashed together and spilling out. She remembers crying.

She remembers the look on his face. She remembers the sound of him crying, too, and for a moment she felt as if they were a pair of children, alone on the world, scared and hurt and alone and making their own ways to live.

Everything stays. Perhaps it's not so bad, every time.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, and he has many words for what exactly; for not saying anything, for thinking they didn't care, for letting himself get beat down by the Lich's curse, for all the things he wanted to say but didn't or couldn't because he didn't have the words for it.

It shouldn't be real, she tells herself. Monsters like her do not get a do-over.

He hugs her, and it is real. He is there, alive again, his arm still gone despite the regenerative process, and that somehow feels like it makes it all feel more real. One arm solidly built and warm, the other smaller and colder metal.)

------

And so, time moves on, and they can almost forget that this happened.

Finn died. And now he wasn't. It was easier to pretend he never had.

But they remembered. And the inevitability of the future weighed down on them.

They spoke often, after that. Finn about his feelings; about feeling that he was... too awkward to be around them. That they were just better than him, that for so long ever since he'd been a kid he'd felt like they were humoring him, or when he was really upset and thought he was just a joke to them, or a tool that wasn't fun anymore.

Bubblegum sits there. She stares silently at the ground, and at the sky, and the weight of years moves. Memories of pajama parties and being like the child she never had the chance to be and always feeling happiest and freest around him dance on her memory, and in his.

Softly, she says, "Do you still feel that way?"

He looks down, and again, he says it: "I'm sorry."

"If something happens to you, if you start hurting, or think that you're a bother or that I don't care, that we don't care-" Bubblegum stiffens up, the weight of the things she wanted to say too much for her, and her face freezes up in an awful cluster of grief and anger and shame for everything she wanted to say, but couldn't until it was too late.

It wasn't too late anymore. She had brought him back; they had brought him back. But even so, she still trembled in the shadow of that grief.

"Please," she says. "Please don't do that again."

Marceline softly says, once more, "Dude, don't shut me out. Please."

(Behind them, Simon watches, part of them but in his own sad way feeling not exactly part of things. He turns his face away, and only later does Marceline realize Simon didn't agree to not do any of that, at least not then.)

Marceline and Bonnie put an arm around a broad shoulder each, and they lean into him, and each other. This time, he does not shrink away.

His robotic arm goes around Marceline's waist, his human arm around Bubblegum's shoulder; prosthetic of genius around the one invincible by birth and deed, the beefy arm around the one who was so completely built differently. There was a poetry in it.

He hugs them both, and they give voice to the things they wanted to have said, that they should have said.

And just for a moment, it all feels okay.

It's not something they can repeat.

"We can't do it again, can we?" Finn says, tiredly.

Bubblegum understands what he means. "I tried to bring Jake back."

His expression doesn't flicker.

"I don't know if it was because Jake was... gone longer, or if, well. I think you have to WANT to come back, and Jake..."

Finn sighs again. "Jake was ready to move on anyway."

Bubblegum nods again.

Marceline quietly says, "If its old age that gets you... I don't think there's a lot we can do about that."

Finn lifts his head up and stares into the sky.

"I miss him so much," Finn says quietly. "It was easier to just... let myself go, hoping I'd find him right away. And you found me. I guess... I guess I have to hang on, as long as I can, for you."

Marceline wants to say 'glad to hear it', or something like that. It sounds insincere.

She knows, one day, he will be gone, and this time, he won't come back.

She wants to accept the inevitability, but she has gotten so much back when it should have been past a point of no return. Somehow, it doesn't seem fair.

She closes her eyes, and listens to the sound of his pulse.

Things don't feel gray anymore.

----

(Across the multiverse, upon the brow of the All that knows it is One, it does not pass unnoticed.

It makes an alarm go off. It's not an important alarm, in the broad scheme of things. It's simply an indication of an unusual event. Few powers would care.

The Scarab did, in his role as an auditor of the cosmic powers, and it was not a point in his favor.

He turned his attention to the world of Ooo, and the universe it resided in. His expression flickered balefully as he contemplated that Prismo the Wishmaster had taken an interest in that world for some time.

Well. Perhaps that was an opportunity.

He would have to pay attention to this world, then, and bide it's time. No doubt an opportunity would come up.

----

Time passes, as it does.

Goodbyes happen, as they must.

Finn breathes a last breath, and that is the end of Finn the Human, as he enters the Dead Worlds.

And as he leaves them, too.

A thousand years later.

Marceline Abadeer returns to Ooo, on business of her own, and she meets a small cat-like hero named Shermy.

And across the span of time, across a thousand years-

It is a reunion.

"I think I know you," he says.

Everything stays, she tells him later, and thinks that it does not need to be a gray thing, or a sad thing to say.

#adventure time #fics #my writing #finn mertens #marceline #princess bubblegum #finnceline #not expressly romantic but you can read it that way for sure #this was the product of me having Sad Thoughts late at night and going #'yknow what i want to see if other people get as sad about this as i did!!'#queued

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fandomsmeantheworldtome · 5 months

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In my opinion Furfur has to be asexual but i can't get out of my head a really wonderful fic i read recently of him making love to Shax wispering seductive words in french

#furfur #good omens furfur #whoever wrote that fic you are a genious #late night thoughts at 3:00 #gonna read it again tonight

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anerol152 · 6 months

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There is a beauty in tragic endings

Was reading a fic and it got me thinking, There is a beauty in a story that you know has a tragic ending.

The story will always end the same way no matter what happens before that breaking point. It will never change no matter how many happy scenes you put before the inevitable end.

Maybe you'll read about the characters having a nice lunch with their family of choice; a quiet night in spent watching movies and goofing off. Maybe the two best friends will go on an adventure, ride a roller coaster, or make a promise to be together until the end of time. Maybe the young lovers will fall in love. Maybe they'll grow old together and keep holding hands until the very last time they see each other. Maybe they'll all just have one good day, where nothing bad happens and they're simply happy to be alive and be with the people they love and care about.

They'll keep looking into each other's eyes and making promises about the future, unaware of the sword of Damocles hanging above their head. Unknowing of tragedy just waiting to strike.

Maybe the story was a tragedy from the start.

But just for a moment, even if only one moment, everyone got to be happy.

And I think that's beautiful.

#fandom #late night thoughts #jjk #ptn #hannibal #whiskey trio #dcmk #found family #satosugu #zelda #link #fudge almost everything I like really #fanfiction is great #canon accurate fics tho #they make you cry when you think what happens after the fic ends and that's what inspired this post #makes you think of all those what ifs #what if there was a happy ending?#anyways I blame this mood on listening to melancholic songs at 11pm while reading fics

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perpetualproductions · 1 month

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Guys...

In a very sleep deprived state at around 4 am I wrote over 2k words of a Jordan Li Vampire fic and I don't know what to do about it.

I honestly don't remember writing it, lol. Just woke up and I was like, what's this?

(...My sister has been talking to me about her watching the vampire diaries for the first time recently. That's probably where it came from.)

#that late night creative anxiety #send help #i wrote a Limoreau fic at 4am #i just read it and i don't hate it #;-;#limoreau #jordan li #i made Jordan Li a vampire #and Marie's just her normal bloodbender self #hmmmmmm

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sophieswundergarten · 9 months

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We need someone who's good at reading aloud to make little fanfic audiobooks for us because A) I'd like to delude myself into thinking I can be productive while listening to them as I go about my day, and B) I want to be able to listen to them at night like bedtime stories :)

#Late night thoughts #My brain is tired and my eyes are tired but I want to reread all of my favourite fanfics again :(#So this is the solution I've decided #Kidnapping someone to make audiobooks out of all of your guys' amazing amazing fantastic fics #So I can experience them over and over again even if I can't actually read them all the time

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