#niki owns the shop so its just feel right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwishiwasrichasfuck · 6 months

Text

First time writing anything, so pls be nice 🙏 Constructive criticism is more than welcome as long as it actually helps

enhypen!ot7 x fem!oc (not a xreader! So I will describe her appearance, but feel free to replace it with your own!), kinda Niki focused and I'm going to write from a 3rd person pov. Bold is korean, normal is English. 'This' means thoughts

"I THINK there's a man following me" Esmeralda told her mother on the other side of the line, navigating through the busy streets of Paris. She looked behind her again, just to be met with the same imposing figure that's been following her for the past 17 minutes and 35 seconds, clad in black and a mask. "Are you sure? Have you just noticed? Or has it been a long time? Maybe he's just going in the same direction." Her mother answered her. The woman sighed "At first I thought so as well, but it's been..." she looked at her watch "19 minutes and 2 seconds and he's still behind me even after all of those random turns I took to lose him". She heard her mother let out a "hmmmm" and the image of her frowning made her smile. "Go in one of the shops and stay there for awhile. If he's still there when you go out again, go back in and call the police, ok?" "OK, I'll hang up then". "I love you, call me back later". "I love you too, I will. Bye". She looked up from her phone to fine a decent shop, and gulped when all she saw were expensive looking restaurants. She forgot she was in the 8th arrondissement, the rich district. It's okay, just don't talk to anyone and it will be okay, its okay. She settled on a restaurant that looked less busy than the others and hid herself in a bathroom stall. Then she waited, thanking God for the clean seat. About ten minutes later, she went to take a peek outside, surprised to still see him there. She ran back to the stalls to lock herself in again and after a few minutes, called the police "Bonjour vous avez appelé le 17, quelle est votre urgence?"

"Good morning, 17 what's your emergency?"

Surprised by how fast the operator picked up, Esmeralda raised a brow. 'Guess they didn't have a lot of business today'.. "Oui bonjour, j'ai été suivie par un homme pendant 20 minutes au moins."

"I'm being followed by someone, I have been for at least 20 minutes"

"Est-ce que vous en êtes sûre? Où êtes vous à l'instant? Et comment vous appelez vous?"

"Are you sure? Where are you right now? And what's your name?"

"J'en suis certaine. J'ai pris au moins 5 intersections au hasard pour m'en assurer. Je suis dans un restaurant qui s'appelle L' Arôme, dans le 8ème, à l'étage, au-aux toilettes. Je suis entrée il y a un quart d'heure? et j'ai vérifié il y a 10 minutes qu'il était toujours là. Je m'appelle Esmeralda Adel"

"I'm positive. I took at least 5 random turns to make sure. I'm in a restaurant called L' Arôme, in the 8th district, in the bathroom stalls on the second level. I've been here for fifteen minutes and checked if he was still outside about 10 minutes ago. My name is Esmeralda Adel"

"Bien. Nous envoyons des agents pour l'appréhender. Pouvez vous le décrire?"

"OK. We're sending agents to take care of this. Can you describe him?"

"Il est plutôt grand et a une carrure assez imposante. Il est habillé tout en noir, avec un masque chirurgicale et une casquette. Je crois qu'il a une veste en cuire? Je n'ai pas vu son visage, mais je peux le voir des fenêtres de l'étage, alors j'ai pris une photo."

"He's on the tall side, and has an imposing figure. He's dressed in all black and has a surgical mask. I think he's wearing a leather vest? It's black as well. I didn't see his face, but I can spot him from the windows of the restaurant so I took a picture."

"Ce sera assez merci. Nous vous appellerons une fois sur les lieux."

"That'll be enough, thank you. We will call you once at your location."

With that, the police officer hung up. Relieved, Esmeralda stood up and washed her hands, because even if she didn't do her business, she was still in a public bathroom like come on, ew, gross. She went outside and took her phone to inform her mom of how things went, but was abruptly stopped by a tall body bumping into her.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

In an airplane, a few hours ago

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

They debated and against responsible people's wishes, it was decided that they'd eat out. Their manager protested at first, but then gave in when he saw it was futile to argue and made a reservation for a restaurant. He sent them of with a van and a staff member to drive them. Surprisingly enough, the trip went well enough and soon the group were oooing and wowwing at the fancy looking dishes, rid of their hats and masks and laughing at other's jokes. Maybe they were laughing a little too hard, because Jungwon spilled some water on his seat mate. Riki, the target of his clumsiness stood up after some good natured teasing to dry the mess in the bathroom. He turned around at Jake's call "Hurry up or we'll finish your plate for you!" He replied with a smile "Don't you dare hyung!" and still chuckling, he turned and collided with a smaller object.

Riki yawned. Loudly. Next to him, Jay tapped his thigh. "Hang on, we'll be there in 20 minutes". The youngest nodded tiredly. He'd been sitting in this godforsaken plane for eleven hours, his limbs hurt, damn it. He couldn't wait to get out, stretch and eat. He'd been to France already, and everytime he couldn't help his awe at the gastronomy. He was excited for the concert too. When they went on a world tour, Enhypen mostly went to The United States, so he knew french engene would be happy with their presence. Hybe had conveniently decided to make their concert public last minute, so Enhypen could enjoy two weeks off for tourism and "vacations" without being bothered too much (well, as secretly as an internationally famous band could). Every one still thought they were in Korea, if all was well. On the other side of the private jet, Jungwon and Heeseung watched movies. Jake and Sunghoon were playing rock paper scissors and Sunoo was taking a nap. Riki thought he looked ridiculous with the face mask and pink unicorn headband, and discreetly took a picture for blackmail purposes. Like that, 20 minutes passed and soon all of the members were in Charles de Gaulle (the airport), leaving the plane. They thought the masks, caps and black coats weren't very subtle but it was better than their faces being in plain sight and fans finding out about their surprise too early. They arrived at their fancy hotel without much trouble, save for having to hide one way or another so that they wouldn't be seen. The agency had rented the whole level for them and the staff so they would be unbothered. Sunghoon and Jake shared a room, while the maknaes stayed together and Jay and Heeseung had a room to themselves. When they all settled down, they all reunited in Jay's room on the couch to decide what to do next. "I'm so hungry" Riki whined. "Hmmm" of agreements chimed in the room and Jake suggested they go eat in a restaurant instead of ordering takeout. "It's been a while since we've been here, I want to explore a bit". But Jungwon, always the responsible leader argued "How will we stay out of sight? Everyone will recognise us, and we can't even take our bodyguards"

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Back to us :)

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Esmeralda blinked. Once. Twice. The two stayed like that for a few seconds, just staring at the other. Her eyes examined the features of the man in front of her. They ran over his thick lashes and eyebrows, his dark brown eyes, the elegant slope of his nose amd his plump lips. She drank in his oh so gorgeous face, and the way his black hair fell in lazy waves and blonde highlights on his forehead, how the smooth strands framed his face. When her brain registered who she was looking at, her eyes widened and she started "You're-!" But her sentence was cut off by a big hand that pressed on her mouth to shush her. "Shhh" Riki whispered. "Who are you? What are you doing here? I thought manager-nim rented the whole restaurant for us!" The curly haired woman tried to pry the hand off and when the fucking international superstar complied, she answered in the same tone and to the Nishimura's surprise, in perfect korean "I was in the bathroom, you must've came in while I was still inside. What are you doing here? I thought Enhypen was in Korea!" Riki sighs, "We're having a concert in two weeks and came early without telling engene to have some time off. Since you recognised me, I suppose you're a fan?" Still stunned at the turn of events, Esmeralda nodded. "Yes... I guess I should leave you alone then. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I understand you need to relax." When he thanked her and just as she was going to leave, Riki stopped her "Wait!". She turned curiously. He nervously gulped. "What's your name..?" "Esmeralda" she replied with a pleasant smile. "Well, Esmerlada, umm, now that you know, will you come at the concert?" She chuckled. "Maybe, that depends on the price of the tickets" He sighed "Of course, yes... Um... Well... I hope to see you there!" And he turned and ran off to the bathroom. Still surprised, Esmeralda left the restaurant hastily to call her mother.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Riki's pov ;)

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"Oof". He caught the poor thing before they could fall and stared down at what was in his arms. The woman had caramel skin and long curly hair. Long lashes framed pretty green eyes, and made way to a cute nose. Niki found himself counting her freckles, and staring at her plump lips, the way her cupids bow shaped them, and how her bottom lip slightly pouted out. He found himself looking at every little dent, every little detail of her face. He was mesmerised, like under a spell. She was... pretty. Really pretty. Beautiful really, but not necessarily conventionally pretty, at least not according to korean beauty standars. But her wide, slightly flat nose complemented her face so well, and her chubby cheeks were so adorable, he melted. Her beauty was refreshing. He couldn't help but want to hear her voice, he wondered if it was as stunning as her. Then suddenly he remembered where he was, and that Sejun-nim had rented the whole restaurant for them. It seemed that the beautiful girl recognised him at the same time, because she tried to talk "You're!" But he cut her off with his hand. He didn't want the hyungs to hear her, what if they thought she was a sasaeng? He'd interrogate her himself (he didn't want to admit he didn't want his hyungs to see her because he knew they'd fall under her charm like him) "Who are you? What are you doing here? I thought manager-nim rented the whole restaurant for us!" He let her answer, pleasantly surprised when she replied in korean "I was in the bathroom, you must've come in while I was still inside. What are you doing here? I thought enhypen was in Korea!" Riki sighed, "We're having a concert in two weeks and came early without telling engene to gave some time off. Since you recognised me, I suppose you're a fan?" When she nodded, he mentally cheered 'We have such a pretty fan'. "Yes... I guess I should leave you alone then. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I understand you need to relax." "Thank you". But then she turned to leave and Riki just wanted her to stay a bit more, to know her more, so he blurted out "Wait!" 'Shit, what do I say?..... Ask for her name you idiot!' "What's your name?" "Esmeralda" 'Wow... Even her name is gorgeous. She has a beautiful smile' "Well, Esmeralda, umm, now that you know, will you come at the concert?" She chuckled. "Maybe, that depends on the price of the tickets" He sighed "Of course, yes... Um... Well... I hope to see you there!" And he turned and ran off to the bathroom. 'Stupid, of course she can't come without a ticket!'. He looked at himself in the mirror and leaned on the sink. 'She was so pretty...' he blinked and held back a squeal 'A pretty girl talked to me! She's even an engene!!!' He smiled at himself, still dazed and lovestruck. He wanted to see her again. But he knew that if he did, it would be at the concert. And that meant that the other members would see him act like a teenager in love (which he was, but he had his own pride). He was reluctant for that to happen. And there was no way they would be immune to her charm, she was just too... everything. When Heeseung called him, asking if he was okay, he was reminded of why he went to the facilities in the first place and hastily wiped his shirt, yelling back an "I'm fine! I'll be there in a second!" When he returned, Sunoo hyung mentioned absently "I thought I saw a girl go downstairs a few minutes ago, do you know who that was?" Niki blushed and looked down, shaking his head. Sunghoon noticed and loudly teased him "Niki-aaah, do you have a cruuuush!?" Jake took it upon himself to help his friend embarrass their maknae "Wow, Niki, did you get her number". They all took turns teasing him, but he just rolled his eyes 'If only you had seen her, you wouldn't be laughing'.. The day ended and as he fell asleep back at the hotel, he could only dream about the beautiful girl with emerald eyes and a name to match.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen niki #niki x oc #enhypen ot7 #heeseung x oc #jungwon x oc #sunghoon x oc #jay x oc #jake x oc #sunoo x oc

2 notes · View notes

ao3feed-crimeboys · 2 years

Text

Night Shifts With Ghouls

by Szparagus

“Looking for someone?” A woman’s voice unexpectedly called from Tommy’s left, where just a second ago there was absolutely no one, causing him to jump and shield his heart from escaping from his chest. He could feel his heart beating against his ribs like a little bird in a cage, fluttering its wings against metal bars. Thankfully his bones were a good cage or Dream would have to clean a lot of blood from the floor. And probably do a fuck ton of paperwork. Tommy wouldn’t envy him if that happened. But thankfully for all of them, his heart stayed right where it belonged.

When Tommy looked to his left there was standing, and leaning on the counter, exactly who he was looking for. Right next to the lady’s hand on the counter, was also a paper cup with a lid, filled with who knows what. Drugs? Coffee? Ice cubes? Secret government information about aliens and monsters being real? Inside that cup could be everything and anything in the world and it was just standing there, tempting Tommy to break about every customer service rule and take a look inside it just for the sake of his own curiosity.

Or: Tommy works at an almost perfectly normal cafe. But when he starts working night shifts stuff gets wild.

Words: 5960, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP, Video Blogging RPF

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Relationships: Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Noah Brown | Foolish Gamers & TommyInnit, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Foolish & tommyinnit, Niki | Nihachu & TommyInnit, Jack Manifold & TommyInnit, Jack Manifold & Niki | Nihachu, Ponk | DropsByPonk & Sam | Awesamdude, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Ponk | DropsByPonk & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, another cafe au but this one has a twist, not every customer is a human, and tommy has to deal with both, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Break (Video Blogging RPF), Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson is Called Philza (Video Blogging RPF), Soft Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot is a Menace, Toby Smith | Tubbo is also Menace, monst characters are menaces to Tommy, but it's fine cause he is also a menace, Niki is unhinged, Amputee Ponk | DropsByPonk (Video Blogging RPF), They/Them Pronouns for Ponk | DropsByPonk (Video Blogging RPF), Awesamdude has a dog named Fran, tags might change but this is a chill au, no dying here folks, Good Friend Jack Manifold, Clay | Dream is So Done (Video Blogging RPF), like most retail workers, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Immortal Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Minor Violence, Mentioned Kristin Rosales Watson, Mentioned Michael the Piglin (Dream SMP)

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/40461387

#IFTTT #ao3feed #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #crimeboys #crime boys #crimebois #crime bois #mcyt #This is

1 note · View note

duckugou · 2 years

Text

chilly

Kirishima x gn!reader

cw: angst, drinking, finding yourself, happy ending but not in the way that you think, unrequited love, big self love talk, lil depression but gets better, not proofread

!!come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in! Requests are open!!!!

song to listen to: chilly by niki!!!

do you ever think about me? when she ain’t around, is your bed cold without me?

Its been a few weeks since you admitted your feelings to Kirishima. Meaning its been a few weeks since things started to get awkward and weird.

You were best friends- inseparable. You went to his house seemingly every day. You had your own apartment but it was always cozier at his place. Maybe it was the fire place. Maybe it was his arms. Who knows.

What you did know was that you always slept better in his bed. And now that things are awkward, you didn't exactly feel welcome in his home like you did before. Not since he turned you down and left you in the middle of your own living room. So you weren't sleeping in his bed to say the least.

In other words, you havent sleep right in weeks.

does her love feel just the same? is she the one to take your last name?

Walking into your usual coffee shop, you had your hood up due to the rain- and your bad hair day. And it was a good thing you did. That way, Kirishima didn't see your face of disappointment and sadness when you saw him with her. Whoever she was, she was in your place. She was sitting with Kirishima at a table, sipping a drink and laughing at his jokes.

When did he find a girlfriend? How long had you been hiding yourself from the world?

The barista called your name, and you turned away just in time for Kirishima to miss your eyes. What did he expect? Sure, it was his favorite coffee shop that he frequented- but how could he forget it was yours as well?

whatever the case, i'm glad you're happy

Sure, it was nice seeing Kirishima's smile again but damn did it kill you to not be the reason.

Was she nice? Was she funny? She was obviously pretty- but could she handle Kirishima's sad spells? What if she couldn't handle the stress of the responsibility of being his shoulder to cry on? What if she wasnt letting him express his feelings the way-

The way you did?

He must be happy without you. You hadnt talked in weeks and yet here he was happy as ever with someone else. Did the whole friendship mean nothing if he would let it all go from just one stupid admission? Maybe you shouldve said it was a joke. Anything to have him back at this point.

Whatever the case would be in the end, you couldnt stand to hear he laugh any longer.

Thanking the barista, you turned and walked out the door, convincing yourself that this was for the best. It was time to move on.

-------------------------------

december's feelin chilly takin' shots at the club to warm up and distract me from feelin empty

Four months later, it was snowing. And you still hadn't talked to Kirishima.

You were used to sleeping alone, finding that it was easier to sleep with rain sounds and a pillow by your side. You didn't need a fire place, you had a heated blanket.

You caught up with old friends but didn't get the same comfort as you did with him.

On a snowy saturday night, you found yourself trudging through the snow to get to a bar a few blocks over. Walking through the door, you looked around at the low attendance, probably because its so cold. Taking your beanie off and hanging your jacket on the back of a seat at the bar, you ordered a shot of whiskey. At least then you 'd have a reason to still be numb- plus it would make you warmer.

You sat for a half an hour, not drinking much but a couple of shots. Listening to the music playing and the few conversations around the bar, you allowed your mind to empty.

Your attention was taken by someone sitting next to you, making you look to the right.

"Kirishima?" You asked quietly, watching the person take their hat off, and shaking the snow off of his jacket. A sharp smile found itself on his face.

"Hey Y/n."

every now and then I would remember how you made me feel

No words came from your mouth. For months, you'd wanted to talk to him- to tell him you were sorry and you missed him.

But now that hes in front of you, no words found themselves in your mouth. You just looked at him.

"You good?" He asked, getting comfortable, ordering a drink.

"Um- yeah. How've you been?" You asked, mouth dry.

"I'm okay. Things have been... quiet." He admitted, looking into your eyes.

"Yeah. Same here- bored a lot." You said, dropping eye contact and asking the bartender for a drink instead of another shot.

"Its uh... nice to see you again, ya know." Kirishima said sheepishly.

"You too." You said, not daring to say anything else.

After a few minutes of silence, Kirishima spoke up.

"I miss you, Y/n. A lot. I dont know why I-"

"Its okay, Kirishima." You interrupted, not wanting the excuses.

"Kirishima huh? No more Eijiro?" He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah we uh- we're not close like that now I guess..." You admitted.

desolation and thrill, maybe I should try love again but I don't, no

"You waiting for someone?" He asked, trying to get to relearn your life.

"No, just by myself." You admitted. "Are you?"

"No. Just wanted to get a little tipsy." He chuckled, thankful that you weren't with anyone- then remembering he has no right to be hopeful about your love life- or lack thereof.

"Have you uh-" Kirishima began, trying to avoid another silence. "Been seeing anyone at all?"

"No. Havent even tried talking to anyone since- well." You sighed, taking another sip, wondering why he cared.

"Yeah- hey. Can we like talk about that?" He asked, his turn to not make eye contact.

"What's there to talk about?" You asked, exhausted.

"I feel awful... I mean I turned you down and then just stopped... talking to you. And the next time you saw me I was with someone else and I-"

"Kirishima it's fine. You dont have to explain it to me. I suck at boundaries and reading people I guess. Its no big deal." You said, pushing your real feelings down. You didnt feel love when you saw him now. You saw someone that walked away and left you without any hope. Someone that didnt care. Someone that never cared you suppose.

"You said you thought we were like... meant to be though. And I just-" He wanted to fix it. He realized it too late, but he felt the same. He got with someone else to make it go away but it made everything worse. He loved you and he was too late.

"Left. You left. And that shows your true character I think." You didnt feel like sugar coating it anymore.

to hell with "other halves" that's bullshit, I'm already whole alone

"I needed you. Well I thought I needed you." You sigh, making eye contact with Kirishima, his breath hitching. "I thought you were my soulmate. I thought we were meant to be- but I was wrong."

"No- you werent I-" He stumbled over his words.

"I was. If we were meant to be you wouldnt have walked away so easily. Thats the truth. And honestly Kirishima, you did me a favor." You said, still maintaining eye contact.

"What?" His heart stung.

and no, I don't want you back we've grown older and apart

"You made me remember who I was before you. I thought I needed you. But after seeing you with her- in OUR spot? I let my love for you die. I moved on alone. I learned to love myself. I can sleep alone now. I started painting again." You admitted, pride filling your chest.

"You did?" He asked quietly.

"Yes. I did. Because I dont need someone else to hold my happiness. I control my own happiness." You said, feeling strong.

"I uh... I guess youre right about that one." He said, chuckling lightly.

"What happened?"

"She left me after we had sex." He admitted, not caring anymore.

"Kirishima."

"Yeah?" He finally met your eyes again.

rediscovered myself, took back my heart

Putting your hand on his, you squeezed lightly.

"You dont need anyone. Youre a good guy- you'll figure it out. You always do. I hope you realize that soon." You said sincerely, tears in his eyes as he felt you slip out of his grip emotionally and you keeping him in your grip physically.

"Youre going to be okay. Find yourself. Promise me that. And then call me, okay?" You said, giving his hand a squeeze, letting it go, and turning away from him as you finished your drink.

Standing up and putting your jacket and beanie back on, you gave Kirishima a final smile and your words echoed in his head.

"Find yourself. Then call me."

He swore that night that he would do just that.

---------

taglist: @maggiecc

!!come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in! Requests are open!!!!

#mha imagine #mha fanfic #mha angst #mha comfort #mha x reader #kirishima #kirishima fic #kirishima angst #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #angst fic #song fic #mha fic #kirishima x y/n

100 notes · View notes

lillian-nator · 3 years

Text

Ranch AU

Or, as we all call it, The Cowboy AU

Essentially, this was something that I created, and it’s gonna be purely fluffy, with a small bit of angst here and there. Any of the angst will be hurt/comfort. It’s meant to make us all feel better after those fucking harsh lore streams. I started it, based off of some shit in the Dad!Schlatt AU, and after that I honestly didn’t write most of it. It had really been a project in the discord, because we were all sad and shit, so if you have some fluff to offer, please do! I am happy to make almost anything canon - and we could always use more ideas. :)

I hope you enjoy some mindless farm boi fluff!

BASIC INFO:

It's SBI's Ranch (Phil is Dadza, Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur are his sons)

Phil, sells to the local stores, and manages the crops. He doesn't do too much labor anymore. He hired his boys for that.

Dream, SapNap, Purpled, Tubbo, Callahan, and Punz are all hired farm hands

George, Niki, Ranboo, and Fundy work at the shop where they sell their products; Niki makes all of the dairy products, Fundy and Ranboo stock, label prices, and keeps track of sales, and George works customer service with his Gogy magic.

Wilbur works with the sheep, the goats, and he trains the dogs (Collies - they herd sheep), he also works with the crops a lot

Schlatt isn't hired but he might as well be. He can be found wherever Wilbur is, and is probably drinking a beer he stole from Phil. He doesn't get paid, but he eats all of their food.

Tommy works with the cows, the pigs, the chickens, the horses (sometimes), his goose, and the dogs / cats that they own

Tubbo works with Tommy. Essentially. But he also works on the crops, and the bee farm that they have set up.

Techno works with the horses, and is currently training to be a veterinarian.

Dream works on horses with Techno - they race the horses competitively - but otherwise, is where ever he is needed (usually crops)

Purpled works with Tommy and Tubbo. He mostly works with Tubbo on crops and his bee farm.

Punz and SapNap haul things. As your resident Chads, they are in-charge of moving heavy things and doing manual labor.

Callahan is their repair man. He fixes tractors, and machines on a daily basis.

SOME HEADCANNONS:

HENRY, a saga:

that henry has a matching bandana to the one Tommy has so that everyone knows thats henry. Tommy doesn't like it when people touch henry so henry gets a bandana - Shark -

when Phil first started raising Tommy, he would've never guessed that he would turn out the way he did.

He was loud, and brash, and hit his brothers, and made fun of the neighbor's kids, but then Tubbo became Tommy's best friend, and then Phil introduced Tommy to the cows.

The cows are Tommy's everything.

When a Bred Heifer is due, he sits with them everyday past their due date - he sat with Betty for 5 days when she wouldn't birth a calf. He was so fucking worried.

When one of his cows are sick, he sleeps in the barn until they get better. His last days with Harvey fucked him up.

Tubbo, Tommy, Purpled, and Ranboo spend long nights at the farm, and Tommy always leans against Henry as he stares up at the stars.

Henry who his best girl (all cows are girls and Tommy doesn't give a shit about gendered names). Henry who wears a matching bandana. Henry who is fluffy, and warm, and Tommy's everything. -

Sometimes when Tommy had a bad day, whether it’s stress, or school, or just whatever, Tommy sleeps in the Henry’s stall with her. Phil has so many pictures of Tommy curled up with Henry. From when she was first born to now. - Eye

Tommy hates winter because that’s the one time of year Phil won’t let him sleep in the barn. Even with the layers and heat lamps it’s too unsafe. Tommy always gets up extra early in the winter. Both because he has to check and break ice in the water troughs but also because he misses his girl - Eye -

Henry's mother, Betty, was the first Cow Tommy had helped during birth. He sat with her for 5 days when she hadn't gone into labor past her due date. It took 9 hours for Henry to be born, and Tommy was there through the entire thing -

Well, almost the entire thing. He was at school for the first hour of labor, and was so pissed at Phil when Phil knew and didn't immediately come get Tommy from School.

It always felt like Tommy and Henry had a special bond because Tommy literally raised Henry from birth. -

They didn't think Henry was gonna make it when she was first born, but Tommy was fucking determined, and bottle fed that cow every single day and night. When she was slowly weened off milk, Tommy got unironically sad that he didn't have to bottle feed her anymore.

He still visited her every morning, and milked her mother at dawn, right after he got eggs from his hens. -

Henry waits for Tommy at the end of their long ass drive way when he gets home from school. She knows that when the bus pulls up that her boy is back and so she’s always there waiting lazily for pets and a nice walk together back to the house. Even when it’s cold and someone is waiting for the kids to get home in an ATV or something Tommy always walks back to the house with Henry - Eye

Thinking about how long these fucking country roads are. And how Tommy and Tubbo have the same bus stop even though Tubbo and Tommy's houses are a couple of miles away. Tommy has to walk a mile to get to the beginning of his driveway, and seeing his favorite girl there is like a reward at the end of a journey. Tommy probably keeps a bag of feed in his backpack, which is just a mixture of grain, hay and corn, and gives Henry a handful to thank her for waiting for him.

Clementine, The Goose:

Tommy has a goose, and names it Clementine.

He found her in the woods one day, when she was very young, and he decided he was going to keep Clementine.

Clementine is only ever nice to Schlatt and Tommy. No one knows why.

Clementine follows Tommy around. Very endearing.

Phil doesn’t question it at this point

NEW MILO, the sequel:

OG Milo is a kitten that Wilbur found on the side of the road, in the rain, and he took the kitten in, trying to save him. Wilbur immediately got attached.

Techno pulled an all nighter, half spent trying to save OG Milo and the other half comforting Wilbur. "You couldn't have helped, he was too starved and out in the rain for too long." Phil adds that if Techno can't save something, it can't be saved. - Ethan

Wilbur's next cat was named New Milo in honor - Ethan

Anyway, New Milo has three kittens. Blood God, Boots (given to Fundy), and Bumbles (given to Tubbo). They're called the Bees and they were born Christmas Eve - Ethan

BLOOD GOD, the pussy:

Blood God is Techno's cat. Its just a ferall little molly that loves techno too much. - M -

After Techno helped New Milo have her litter, he wasn't originally gonna keep any of the kittens, but he saw this tiny thing with the orange muzzle and just: stole her.

He is also nicknamed Blood God, for both his skill in hunting and healing

He originally named her Piglet because the orange spot looked like a pig snout [the main reason he chose her and not her stronger littermates] but called her Blood God teasingly when he first adopted her

Wilbur didn't realize he meant it as a nickname and told everyone her name was Blood God

Techno still calls her Piglet, but everyone else calls her Blood God because that's the name on her collar.

Most of their cats aren't collared, but Phil made her a custom collar because he was worried she'd get lost hunting with Techno and Dream - Ethan -

Blood God is such a batshit cat. She's a runt, really, oddly small compared to her siblings, and she's their best mouser

She's the cat that everyone leaves scraps for, but never tries to pet out of fear

Often she'll climb up people's legs and sit on their shoulders, and it's the only time you can pet her.

She is very, very affectionate with Techno and he loves her very much. He has her very well trained, and she comes with him and Dream when they go hunting sometimes alongside a terrier.

She's a little itty bitty calico molly and she has an orange patch right over her muzzle - Ethan

TOMMY'S HENS, the chicks:

He gets real defensive of his hens. They lay eggs for him. They deserve to be treated well. -

Tommy does in fact have an egg incubator; Sometimes it's just better. Tommy prefers letting his hens care for their own eggs, but he does still use the incubator - Ethan -

Some chickens enjoy being thrown so they can flap and shit. A few days after passing ownership of the hens to Tommy, Phil is going down to the crops and just sees Tommy chucking his hens and watching them rush back to be thrown again

he feels a hint of "what the hell" but he notes the gentleness tommy does it with and how the chickens seem to be enjoying it and he shrugs and keeps walking - Ethan -

Once Wilbur was helping Tommy with the chickens and he dropped an egg

Unfertilized, of course, but Tommy looked like you'd just punted a toddler

Three years later, Wilbur isn't allowed to touch the eggs anymore

Tommy's paranoid he'll hurt a live one

"Get out." "What - Tommy it was an accident, it was just one egg." "If you aren't gonna treat Phoebe's eggs with care; You can get the fuck out." "Tommy -" "Out." -

the quality chicken eggs depends usually on how the chicken feels. While under his care, the eggs the chickens produced were really good.

Under Tommy's care? Phil's eggs tasted like horseshit in comparison - Ethan -

They have their like, main barn and to the side of it is a little pond. The chicken coops are a little beside it, with the singular duck coop (he only has four ducks) closest. He calls the area the Business Bay

AGES:

Tommy - 16 Tubbo - 16 Purpled - 17 Ranboo - 17

Techno - 19 Wilbur - 21 Schlatt - 19 Phil - idk like 45 or some dad shit

Fundy - 18 Niki - 19

SapNap - 18 Dream - 19 George - 20 Punz - 19 Callahan - 20

RANDOM HC’S:

Tubbo, Niki, Ranboo, and Fundy are siblings. -

Whenever they eat meat they talk about who they're eating.

They tell stories about their day and such but they always start dinner, when its meat, saying "rip lmao" and telling stories about them

...they don’t do it when they eat beef

Everyone sitting down with their plates of ham Wilbur: so who was it? Phil: Fern Tommy, already eating: rest in peace fern Techno: he shat on my boots once -

Each of the boys get a few animals that aren't allowed to be butchered.

Wilbur has Friend, Enemy, and Skit the Bull. (Wilbur wanted to name a Bull "Shit", but Phil said no because Tommy was 11 and already swearing too much for his liking)

Techno has none of the livestock. He only cares about Blood God, and his horses.

Tommy has a pig [currently unnamed], his Hens (6 or 7 of them, that lay eggs), and his dairy cows -

Phil is ALWAYS chewing on straw. -

Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur all call Phil "Pops" or "Pop". They all used to call him "Papa" though. It's like a coming of age thing for the three of them, when they stop calling him "Papa" and start calling him "Pop".

Phil may or may not have cried when Tommy started calling him "Pop" at the age of 12.

ALTHOUGH, all 3 boys know that if you want anything, you call Phil "Papa". Phil can't resist it. -

Techno and Tommy with starry eyes: pops Phil: no Wilbur: Papa Phil, with slightly less confidence: n-no - Ethan -

Tommy holding a baby calf in his hands that he walls to bring inside for the night because hes in love with her: papa please!! Phil, practically in tears: fine. - M

476 notes · View notes

genesisrose74 · 3 years

Text

Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!

Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…

I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.

Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…

He was way too involved in your conversation to notice

He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general

Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why

You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.

No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.

“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”

“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”

And he’s like: oh shit—

But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.

The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.

“Wanna get food with me tonight?”

And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.

And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…

^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube

Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.

Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.

Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.

Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.

Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.

“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”

You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”

“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”

A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.

“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”

Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.

“You want me to?”

You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”

And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!

Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.

The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.

You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.

This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.

#genesisrose 1k event #milestone event #matchup event #aesthetic matchup #senku x reader #c!sapnap x reader #dr stone matchups #dsmp matchup

44 notes · View notes

tetsuroyaoyaoya · 3 years

Text

It was night by the time you arrived in Nakano, even with the express transport of Kenma’s fancy company helicopter, but you simply didn't have time to stop and admire how the colours of the vibrant neon signs reflection on you skin as you walked through the district.

Despite being just outside of the centre of Tokyo and only a few train stops from your apartment, you had never visited the place before, and the fact that you were wasting your opportunity to do exactly that by searching for Semi was really putting a dampener on your mood.

Kuroo had transferred the data from the ~ totally legal ~ software on your computer that he used to hack into and track the boy onto your phone instead, which you were now using to navigate the streets. Although, it wasn’t easy as you had hoped, seen as said streets were crammed to the brim with as many shops and stalls as possible, and the cluster of signs didn't make it any easier to pinpoint the studio either.

That was, until, you noticed a familiar tuft of silver hair duck into one of the buildings not too far away, and you had to rush to catch up with him before the door closed and locked you out. You just managed to catch it, the frame being centimetres from crushing your fingers.

Of course, your faux counterpart had already disappeared by the time you made it inside, but you pulled yourself up the stairs as quickly as you could manage, hoping to reach him before you lost him completely.

“Oi! Coward!” Being the only one in the hallway, Semi paused, turning his head slowly. He swallowed heavily when your image entered his peripheral, and finally decided to turn and face you fully. Even though it had only been a day or so since you saw him last, he looked so much different than you were used to, and you could almost feel your anger towards him dissipate right then and there.

The bags under his eyes were the things you noticed first, only being made even more prominent by how pale he seemed. You were hoping that it was just the light, but it concerned you none the less. His shoulders were slumped and his back was slightly hunched, as if he was curling in on himself. All in all, he looked exhausted, and you couldn't find it in you to dig into him as you had planned to.

Instead, you merely stared at him for a few moments, until he sighed, turning back and continuing on to his destination.

He was expecting you to follow, of course, and you did, all the way to the end of the hall before stopping at a door that Semi already had his keys in. He quickly unlocked it before stepping aside to let you in first. You were hesitant, but made your way inside, walking forward far enough to allow the man to slip in after you and close the door.

The ‘studio’ Semi owned was more like a studio apartment than an actual music studio, but he had clearly adapted it for his purposes. The only thing missing was a bed, in its place was a whole bunch or recording equipment that you probably couldn’t even name, let alone use.

The walls were covered in soundproofing blocks, but you guessed that was more for the acoustics than the actual noise, seen as there didn't seem to be many actual residents in this particular apartment block.

Semi placed a bag that you didn't even realise he was holding onto the kitchenette counter, before squeezing passed you to get further into the apartment. His hands landed on your hips as he brushed around you, but his touch was gone before you even processed it was there, leaving you with just the faint tingle where his fingers had rested.

You followed him with your eyes for a moment, unsure of what to do with yourself since he hadn’t actually spoken to you yet or given you any indication that he even wanted you there.

You wandered over to him as he sat on the floor and began to shuffle through some papers, slipping your shoes off before you walked out of the entryway. Peeking over his shoulder, you realised the papers were actually sheet music - heavily scribbled-on sheet music.

“Ah yes, because you ran away from Miyagi to write a song, I forgot.” He gave you the side-eye, but you merely plopped yourself down on the sofa behind him, still being able to see what he was doing from this angle.

“It’s important.” You scoffed, sitting back and crossing your legs.

“More important than your fans? Than your band? Than-” Me?

You hoped he hadn't noticed your slip up, and continued to glare at his back. He stayed silent for a moment, still engrossed in his sheet music. He reached for his guitar, pulling it over his lap and running his fingers over the strings a few times, making sure each one was in tune.

“So... what? I came all the way to Tokyo and you have nothing to say to me?” He chuckled lowly, ceasing his strumming.

“I never asked you to come and find me.” You patience was wearing thin, and no matter how sorry you felt for him, you had come to Tokyo for a reason, and the anger you held was still burning uncontrollably at the forefront of his mind.

“You disappeared with no warning! We were worried about you!” Even with his back turned to you, you could tell he rolled his eyes, his hair swaying with the slight shake of his head.

“Sure. Like you care.” You gaped at him in disbelief, but he merely continued to strum his guitar, adjusting the pegs as he saw fit to tune the instrument.

There was clearly no getting through to him, at least not today. You stood, taking in the way he didn't even look as you walked towards the door.

“And I never asked to fall in love with you, but here we are.” Without waiting for a reaction, you left, slamming the door behind you. Unbeknownst to you, Semi sat frozen on the floor, hand mid-strum, the vibrations of the strings creating a low hum throughout the room, a sound worse than silence at that moment.

And he stayed there, until a few moments later when there was a sharp knock at the door.

Thinking it was you, he was on his feet faster than he thought possible, his guitar having been carelessly thrown to the floor.

“Y/N-” Semi stopped as he laid eyes on the figure on the other side of the door. It was definitely not you, and most definitely anyone he ever thought he’d see there.

“Kuroo?”

TWENTY-ONE - COWARD

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* updates every monday *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Just a reminder for anyone that didn't see - no update on the 28th!!

I'll still be active so feel free to send in asks, questions, or maybe even requests that I'll try to get to at some point.

Enjoy the holidays and have a great time!! Hopefully everyone starts off the new year at least a little better than this one’s been <3

previous || masterlist || next

taglist: @chaelysian, @mybbysugawara, @jeez-niki, @reyya-rea, @xathxnax, @4kaashl, @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl, @kac-chowsballs, @celamoon, @eitadesu, @kingkagss, @macchiatoast, @lexysclubhouse, @cowward, @sun-daddy-yoriichi, @bbyouamazin, @flrtykawas, @attixca, @introvertatitsfinest, @sadcosmicdoggie, @keijikunn, @amberalisa, @a-moon-fairy, @missalienqueen, @mirikusashes, @ohayoposts, @sunflwrsandprettyskies, @tarasaoristark, @mxngy, @akkaso, @xstormiii, @haikyuufairy, @simpforkurootetsu, @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney, @cluelesspurble, @tamaguchi, @vicassa, @leinnah, @stinkybitch1919, @agaashesmilktea, @atsunflower, @sugawater, @quiche-inoya, @hoekageyama, @darkangeldesignstudio, @angrylittleriri, @tsum-tsxmus

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq #hq smau #smau #semi #semi eita #semieita #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader #shiratorizawa smau

146 notes · View notes

in-somnis-veritas · 4 years

Text

Characters

(This is for an AU currently in the works! This is one of the only available posts for it right now, but make sure to drop by the page and follow us to stay up to date! More in-depth info will be released soon about the world of Adrestia)

Name | Age | Race | Status Mod Paragraph

Tommy | 16 | Half-elf | Commoner

Tommy was born and raised in the town of Alnwick, living with his mom for the first few years of his life as his father worked in the capital city of Somritas as a knight. He was raised completely unaware of his status of being a half-elf or the fact that his mother was, in fact, an elf. Now, 16 years old with a dead mother, he continues to live his life believing he’s human--not even showing the telltale signs of being a half-elf because of a pendant he’s worn since he was a toddler. Not that he knows that’s what it does. Loud, rambunctious, mischievous--he always finds the time to harass his friends or flirt with pretty girls who happened to be nearby. Best friends with Tubbo and with a brotherly relationship with Dream, he’s out thriving as an extrovert. Though it’s safe to mention he’s completely banned from the capital city,

Tubbo | 16 | Druid | Knight

Tubbo's entire existence is illegal, pretty much. Born to two druids, he himself is also a druid. When he was 6, his camp was attacked. All of his people were killed. The only survivors were him and his baby brother. After fleeing, they survived on their own for a week. They were soon picked up by another camp, which Tubbo lived in for 9 years. When he was 15, his camp sent him to the city. His brother stayed behind, while Tubbo made the three-day long journey to the city. Soon after his arrival, he became a knight. He has served ever since. Despite being magical, he appears fairly human. The only true way to tell he is a druid is the triskelion tattoo he has, which is just below the crook of his elbow on his right forearm. Within the city, his closest friend is Niki. She was the first one to find out about his magic, and he genuinely trusts her with his life. Outside of the city, his best friend is Tommy. Considering he can't go inside the city, Tubbo usually goes outside the walls to visit. Tommy was the second to find out. Saying he trusts Tommy with his life isn't true, mainly because he would be the one endangering it to begin with.

Dream | 19 | Human | Prince/Royalty

Prince Dream von Galatea the 1st, born August 12th, 1599, is the sole male heir to the well known kingdom, Somritas, in the northern Adrestia region. He is a very respected and competent prince to his royal adversaries and renowned across the land as an excellent warrior. Dream trains almost daily and vigorously, so much so that many outsiders try their hand at challenging him but have yet to beat him. The man greatly idolizes the old “fairy tales” of the human hero saving others from the monstrous non-human races. Though, this then causes the prince to have a bit of a Hero Complex. When a situation involves or pertains to someone he cares for and is emotionally invested in, he’s generally a very impulsive and sensitive man that will end up following his feelings in the heat of the moment rather than his rationalized thoughts. Other than that, however, Dream’s quick at adapting to new situations and thinking on the spot, especially when placed under pressure. To add on, he’s fiercely protective and compassionate to those under his kingdom’s rule and is seen often interacting with the townsfolk in the Town Square, thus his subjects adore the kind prince wholeheartedly. In order to rise to his rightful place as King, he must venture outside the castle walls and vanquish countless magical non-human races, thus proving himself capable to his father. Subsequently along the way, Dream’s close minded beliefs will get upturned as he begins to discover not everything in his kingdom is as fair and just as he once thought.

George | 20 | Changeling | Upperclass Tailor

George Pruitt is a fairly upper-class tailor born and raised in Somritas. Both of his parents are tailors, and he is one of the most skilled tailors in the city. Many members of royalty favor him and ask specifically sew their clothes for important events. He is Prince Dream's favorite tailor as well. His upbringing was regular and nothing strange happened, but around 14 years old, he started getting signs of magic. He withdrew from people and really only socialized with Dream, which is why they're so close. He tries to seem as human as possible, and hates that he's magical.

Niki | 18 | Human | Commoner

Niki lives in the northern Adrestia region in the kingdom of Somritas as a baker. She owns her own shop where she she sells breads, pastries, cookies, and the like. The unofficial hub of all mysterious strangers, Niki seems to know everyone and everything. While raised on the culture of magical non-humans being bad, her encounters throughout the years change her mind to be more open and welcome to everyone. She makes friends very easily and her shop is one of the most visited in the kingdom.

Techno | 19 | Cursed Human | Prince/Royalty

Technoblade is the prince of the kingdom of Strata, a kingdom in the Adrestia region and one that is allied to the kingdom of Somritas. He was cursed the night before his fifteenth birthday by an unknown intruder in the castle and was shunned by the general public in the kingdom because of his now ‘monstrous’ appearance. He left the kingdom even though the king and queen wanted him to stay and is now searching for someone to undo his curse, which brought him to Somritas. He stays out of the actual kingdom because he would be burned if he ever went inside due to his appearance, so he just camps out in the forest close to it and only goes to the very outskirts of the marketplace and the black market to find someone that can break the curse. Techno is extremely blunt and he’s not afraid to call someone out for being an idiot, but only when he’s comfortable with that person. He hates interaction with people that he doesn’t know and pretty much never talks to anyone unless they talk to him first. He kinda bounces around in different groups of people, but stays with Dream mostly.

Wilbur | 25 | Cursed Human | Outlaw

Wilbur was born in a family that practiced magic. One day, they were caught and the royalty put them up to be executed, but Wilbur able to escape. He would steal things on the streets and retreat to the woods at night. He did this for a couple of years, but when he was 21 he got caught and was scheduled for a public execution. He got one of his eyes removed but was able to escape by setting something on fire as a distraction. He retreated to the forest once again where he practiced witchcraft and lived somewhat peacefully. Then he met Tommy.

Fundy | 20 | Silver dragon-touched human | Traveling Healer

Fundy is a mysterious traveler that works as a healer for money, slipping in and out of towns and leaving little more than a healed patient or two and fleeting memories of him behind. He leaves little opportunity for anyone to get close, and he always carries a wooden fox mask.

Philza | Ealy 30s | Aasimar | Commoner

Phil lives outside of the kingdom, on the edge of a forest with his wife. Aside from tending to his animals and small farm he makes furniture for the more wealthy members of society. He’s an all around kind and genuine normal guy, he’s always willing to lend a helping hand. Sometimes though, when the light hits right, an ethereal glow seems to take form in the shape of a ring above his head. Despite being a regular ol' guy, rumors seem to follow him wherever he goes. Many stories spread about a winged figure slaying beasts either in traps or by their own sword, swooping out of the sky to defend people, leaving nothing left of once feared monsters. Sadly, absolutely none of the rumors are talking about him, couldn’t be. Phil’s just ordinary.

Eret | 20 | Cursed Human | Noble (Court member)

Eret is from a small town on the northern coast of Somritas. They was raised there for the first 17 years of their life surrounded by elves and magic users the entire time. It was a hidden safe haven for elves within the kingdom, a vast majority of its population being the magical creatures. The village was full of so much magic that it ended up causing the humans who lived alongside the elves to become magic sensors, hence why Eret is, well, a magic sensor. They ended up doing something, that something never being disclosed as Eret refuses to explain. It ended up with the high council of elves within the town to be LIVID. They became petty. They cursed him. They made the kid appear magical, ruining Eret’s humanity and forcing them to look similar to an elf with glowing eyes. But it backfired and destroyed their retinas, completely blinding them. So, fueled with the want for revenge, Eret turned on their village and ratted out the magical population. It just so happened to be that they ratted the village out to a royal court member. This gave them a pardon and an audience with the king who gave them an offer. They could help the king as a magic sensor and spy and continue to sniff out the magical congregations or they could burn with the village. Eret chose to stay alive, so they helped the royals torch the village.

281 notes · View notes

viseralantlers · 3 years

Text

old friend (c!karl jacobs x reader)

takes place in episode 5 of tales ! The wild west one !

warnings: Injury, swearing, character death

Request: nope!

note: using Kit as the alternate name to avoid confusion and follow how the time travel thing works kinda !!!! If you don’t like it feel free to pick another one and fill it in ! I was mostly trying to keep it gender-neutral !! Sorry if it makes it difficult to understand : (

John led Karl around the small town to pick up people to help stop the hostile bandits he had the pleasure to meet when he first entered the saloon just a few hours ago. Now an eccentric band of characters were leaving William’s shop to head to their last stop, the bakery.

“Alright, so this is Kit!” John spoke with a slight drawl as Karl watched hesitantly as a head peaked up from behind the counter that had been covered in fresh loaves of bread. Karl paused at the sight, it was y/n. It couldn’t be, they had died on doomsday. He felt frozen to his spot as he studied their every move. Karl knew deep down that this wasn’t y/n. He’d seen these past versions, relatives of sorts. of his friends, but he’d never seen anyone that had looked like y/n. It had always been sapnap or technoblade, it was as if y/n died not only in the present but in every past he traveled to.

“Huh” they said as they wiped the flour from their hands on a black apron that had been tied around their neck and torso, stepping around to the group.

“Hey, Kit!” John was cut off as y/n jumped into a question.

“John, I thought you already picked up your stock for this week?” John scratched the back of his neck feeling Percy’s stare digging into the back of his head due to his newly revealed spending habits. Y/n, now Kit, continued talking before abruptly pausing when they finally noticed the crowd that had accumulated in their small bakery. “What’s all this about?” They said with a hint of anxiety slipping into their voice.

“Nothing to be worried about!” Karl jumped into action at the sign of y/n’s trepidation “We just wanted to ask if you wanted to help us take down those old democrat haters.” Karl nervously laughed.

“Oh! Yea, for sure bucko, I hate those guys as much as the next one of y’all.” They smile, a steady joyful expression breaking their former nervous demeanor. Karl felt strangely sick at the sight, at how much it reminded him of his old friend, or more so crush, before their passing. Though he also noted the change in your speech as a strong southern accent slipped in every once in a while, even using the word y’all.

“Good to hear, Kit!” John said happily as y/n and William shared a small conversation talking about stock and sales in the recent weeks. Karl trailed behind the group as he watched y/n converse with the crowd, their face filled with a wide smile, even daring to talk with Crops as if he wasn’t a convicted cannibal. They seemed as kind as ever, as an addicting presence as they used to be when the two lived together in L’manberg.

“Hey Karl!” y/n practically beamed at him as he passed them on the wooden prime path as tommy affectionately called it. “Niki and I made this new bakery together wanna come check it out!” They singsonged already reaching to grab at Karl’s sleeve. They smelled like freshly baked bread, their face dusted with a soft blush from the exertion of baking.

“Yea, sure!” Karl granted them his hand letting y/n pull him in to waste an entire day tasting pastries and sweets. He went home that night with flour handprints on his back and a warm feeling in his chest.

“Great shot!” Karl was pulled out of his trance as he watched Michael whiff the target by a few feet. Shaking his head he studied each member shoot with varying success. Though what really caught his eye was an aim that only rivaled y/n’s own coming from who John had called Kit, the baker that smiled exactly as y/n had every time he whispered a bordering on senseless joke into their ear on party island. He struggled to solidify the name Kit in his head as he watched Kit stick out their tongue as they focused their aim and hit a perfect bullseye. Kit smiled to themselves before they followed the party to the tents surrounding a warm crackling fire.

“Hey, Kit, right? Sorry I’m just never very good with names.” Karl said as he settled down beside the sweet-smelling baker.

“Yep!” They chirped with a relaxed face as they studied the flicking fire as it reached up towards the open sky. “Need something?” They asked turning to Karl. Karl blushed at the eye contact not knowing why he started the conversation in the first place.

“No, no, no,,, uh nothing, I just wanted to say good shooting back there I guess.” He laughed to himself playing with the ends of his sleeves.

“Thank you very much, kind stranger! Just a little hobby I picked up after they built that old shooting range. You know, I don’t think I ever caught your name back in my store?”

“It’s Karl.”

“Karrlllllllll” Kit drew out with a goofy face focusing on the l “Pretty name!” Karl felt stuck in time as the interaction mirrored one he had had with y/n.

“Kaaarrrrrrllllllll! Did I ever tell you your name is pretty?” Karl looked at y/n confused.

“No, but ,,,, I wouldn't quite call it that.” He blushed looking down at his feet.

“I would.” y/n nodded affirmatively “cause it’s Karl, not Carl, it’s pretty,,,,,, your pretty,, really.” y/n laughed at they looked up at the lazily passing clouds with a gentle smile plastered on their relaxed face.

Karl laughed away the small compliment after he looked back up into Kit’s e/c eyes as the group broke into talking about the coming showdown between the two sides.

“Kit, I think you should fight, Mason. You have the best shot out of us aside from me, of course.” Sherif Thompson spoke.

“That’s okay with me! Anything to stop those guys from ruining my pastries really.” Kit said as their interest was engulfed by the warmth from the fire once again. Karl felt fear dig its way into his chest as he looked at Kit’s side profile remembering the last time he had seen them like this.

“Karl go to your library, please. The grid can’t reach it” y/n called to Karl over the never-ending sounds of explosions and falling rubble. “I’ll be okay, I got my bow and my charisma.” y/n chuckled sadly.

“Come down with me! We can be safe together. This isn’t worth it, y/n!” Karl begged as he yelled over to their figure standing tall knowing they were on their last life, knowing that they were not going to go with Karl, knowing this could end in tragedy. Y/n turned with fresh tears trailing down their cheeks.

“This is my home, Karl.”

“I know.” Karl resigned to the fact that you weren’t gonna come with him. Weren’t gonna cower as L’manburg breathed its final breath full of smoke. “I love you.” He yelled as they gave a brave smile jumping down to join the fray. He had imprinted the side profile of their face as they stood solemn, lit by the cloudy sky and the flashes of explosions.

Suddenly it was high noon. Tension building in Karl’s chest as he called out the paces studying Kit walk away from Mason. The track record had been 2-0 he could only hope it would remain so positive.

Y/n had died from an arrow.

An arrow through the chest.

It had been thought to have been shot from Dream’s grid.

No one knew who did it. There was no way to know.

They bled out at the bottom of the crater,

alone,

As Karl huddled in the library,

Eyes shut tight.

Karl knew that in some twisted way, he might as well of fired that arrow himself.

FIRE!

They both fell to the ground, Mason dying upon impact due to the arrow directly piercing his heart. Kit wasn’t as lucky, the arrow had hit it’s target, but not quite a bullseye, the tip was lodged into their upper thigh.

“y/n!” Karl called out in a panic, the strange name not lost to the group around him. He rushed to Kit’s side as tears freely flowed down his face. “Does anyone have a potion?” Kit stared at him in confusion.

“Hey, I’ll be fine, not an artery or anything, just hurts.” they gave Karl a soft smile trying to reassure him of the small injury not being lethal.

“Yea, yea, sorry, I just.”

“y/n’s dead, Karl.” Quackity said as he walked into the secret room of the library that was hidden behind the bookshelf full of y/n’s favorite classics. Karl was frozen in fear as he studied Quackity’s face for any sign of this being some sick sadistic joke. He only found sorrow and loss.

“No, no, y/n, will be here any second! The fight is over, and they are okay, right? Right?” Karl begged Quackity as he felt his hands begin to shake, his breaths becoming ragged. Quackity sat down beside him letting Karl curl into his side. Karl hand’s gripped to his shirt as he sobbed. Quackity knew he couldn’t stop Karl’s pain, but he could comfort him through it.

“I guess, you just reminded me of an old friend.”

#karl jacobs x y/n #karl jacobs x reader #karl x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt insert #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

chrysalizzm · 3 years

Note

Do you have fic recs or head canons? please ramble for paragraphs im bored and looking for something to read.

oh boy do i have some fic recs for you (and everyone who sees this), my friend! this one is quite long because there are a lot of fics i like and this isn’t all of them, so if you’d like more, you can check out my bookmarks page ^^

The Run and Go by Numanum

“That’s not fair,” Bad protests. Dream raises an eyebrow at him and jerks his tied hands in emphasis, clearly saying that none of this is fair.

“Look, you keep running! Who runs if they’re not guilty?” Bad challenges, staring him down with obvious distrust from the generous distance of exactly five feet. It’s fair, as much as Dream hates to admit it; it’s not like he’s been the most honest hostage in the past, with all of his escaping and running and framing himself for his own murder, apparently.

“Only the good die young, and only the guilty run,” Technoblade chimes in, holding his own potato and sitting in the snow like it’s not cold at all.

A hot flash of irritation burns through him.

“Someone being chased?” he counters sarcastically, jerking his tied wrists up again to wave them in front of the group. Sapnap laughs so hard that he almost chokes on his potato, but it dies off when Dream gives him an icy stare.

Or: Dream is having a hard time, and the hunter just want to adopt him like a stray puppy that bites you at every opportunity.

multi-chapter, ongoing.

a manhunt with plot-style fic! exquisitely written, visceral in the emotions it evokes. it’s the kind of fic that makes me feel all shaky with anticipation, the kind that i have a physical reaction to; you can’t put it down.

pain. all-consuming pain. this one feels bad, man

and as he fell (you walked away) by Teahound

Once upon a time, there were three hunters.

They were good at what they did. If you wanted something-- or better yet, someone-- found, discovered, or destroyed, they were the people you asked. They didn’t have much to their name, besides a formidable reputation, but they were a team, and that was enough for them.

Once upon a time, there was a king in the forest.

He wore a mask, but it didn’t matter. That deep in the forest, in a hidden fortress, buried behind leaves and monsters and broken stone, no one could see his face anyway. He had been there a very long time, and he was alone.

Being a king can be a very lonely thing. So one day, the king left the fortress.

A Minecraft manhunt AU, with a fantasy twist. Dream is a cryptid, and Hunters are idiots.

multi-chapter (11), complete.

tea’s fic!! a manhunt-with-plot fic, featuring a forest spirit dream and circumstantial hunters and friendships that feel both intensely real and desperately melancholy because they can’t last.

or can they?

The Real World by Cinammonzoa and Fire_Fly464

"Ten, paces fire!"

Time stopped.

Tommy’s entire body went numb. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but his body was determined to keep him silent. His vision went dark, and he could no longer feel his headphones over his ears. The mouse in his hand. The slight breeze of his ceiling fan. For a few seconds, he couldn’t feel anything.

His senses came back to him all at once. The first thing Tommy noticed was the weight in his right hand -- a bow. His nostrils stung with the lingering scent of gunpowder. In front of him was a masked figure. Their right arm was bent, their elbow by their face. In their left hand was a bow, aiming directly at--

~~~

Aka Dream and Tommy get transported into the SMP world and have no idea what the fuck is happening

multi-chapter (23), complete

you’ve probably seen this one if you haunt the video blogging rpf/minecraft tags of ao3 often! an irl!dream and tommy replace their smp counterparts type of beat, very upbeat in dynamic and fun to keep pace with, great read.

staying alive (though the city is dead) by Alice_Not_In_Wonderland

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Schlatt smirks, his words lilting, almost song-like. His eyes seem to glow brighter. "Tell me, Dream, when did you realize that you could talk and talk and talk and no one would ever believe you?"

---

or: if dream's damned to be a villain in every story he's in, then he's going to show them exactly how much of one he can be

one-shot, complete.

the gratuitous greek mythology references are truly everything and this fic is such a good dissection of dream and schlatt’s motivations and how their goals intersect, and dream’s likening to cassandra really hits different

Green & Gold by HognoseSnake

George’s legs ached.

His lungs felt tight and too small.

His breath was loud in his ears.

His pack bounced uncomfortably on his shoulders.

George, homeless and adrift, is an outlaw of the Mad King's reign. He'd spent the last two months being hunted across the wilderness at the fringe of society by a ruthless killer in a smiling mask and bright green coat. This, he understood.

What he didn't understand is why such a ruthless killer kept letting him go.

multi-chapter (8), complete. sequel ongoing.

a breathtaking pseudo-manhunt-with-plot fic, with george and dream running from a kingdom that wants them dead for perceived transgressions. this shit hurted, and the sequel hurts even worse ;-; snake please i beg

We’re Only Young series by ImperialKatwala

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

collection of both one-shots and ongoing multi-chapter fics.

((bangs on table)) please read this series it is dream and techno friendship fics that alternate between lighthearted and heartwrenchingly comforting and imperialkatwala’s characterisation of them and their respective groups of family and friends is so frickin’ good i read this series when i’m not having a good day and it never fails to make me crack a smile

kept promises and old ruins and names carved into stone by verecundiam

"Would you... would you want to stay here?" Bad wrings his hands, looking away. "Like, like actually stay? I know it's not, ah, not exactly comfortable, or all that homey, but I don't want you two to get hurt out there on your own, and I just... I think maybe you could stay? If you want?"

"That sounds nice," Sapnap says, because it does.

(Or: How four kids managed to build a family, against all odds.)

one-shot, complete.

muffinteers found family that makes me want to go to the smp writers and beg it to be made canon. unbelievably soft yet excellent at parsing out the younger counterparts of the four and creating backgrounds that feasibly form them into the people they grow up to be.

in the age of icons by BananasofThorns

“Yeah, keep digging,” Tommy crows.

The pickaxe hesitates on the downswing. The air shifts; Dream’s aura bursts into visibility, brilliant green and jagged. Ozone hums on Techno’s tongue and Bad stutters in the middle of his sentence. Up on the wall, silhouetted by the sun, Dream stands frozen and furious.

L'manberg messes with something it shouldn't. Techno watches the repercussions and tries not to laugh.

one-shot, complete.

i love deity aus (figures, i wrote one myself akjdfh), and this one hits. there’s something exquisitely delicate about how dream and the repercussions his godhood both on himself and on the people who are exposed to him in that moment of unbridled rage.

that's how we keep going (we make the best of things) by lieyuu

[ i can’t decide if this is heaven or hell. the walls keep closing in and we’re running out of space, but you’re pretty cute ]

“So, do you want to build a flower shop, a cottage, or a coffee shop?” Puffy asks, smiling like just Niki’s presence is enough to light up her world.

Niki looks at her, thinks, I want to bend nature to my will and weave tapestries in your name, says, “I think I might like the flower shop best.”

one-shot, complete.

a niki/puffy fic that crushed me in its hands in just six hundred words. the delicate love and wonder and beauty of this fic killed me softly and i welcomed it. it’s girls in love rendered by lieyuu’s masterful hand, what more could you want

i need it to be known that as i was typing up my thoughts midnight love by girl in red started playing from my playlist if that’s not a shining endorsement i don’t know what is

did i ruin the moment? by itisjosh

Ranboo drags himself through the snow, burn wounds going up and down his body. His suit is crumpled, half of it discarded as he crawls along the ground. His eyes are firmly pressed shut, and he refuses to open them, just in case he sees him, Dream, again. Ranboo sobs as the snow melts on his skin, the water scalding him as it trickles down his arms and chest.

one-shot, complete.

it’s character death, i do need to put it out there because it felt like i was punched in the stomach at the end even though i knew. josh knows exactly how to drag his readers kicking and screaming into angst hell, as always - a ranboo is rescued by phil fic wherein ranboo ends up convincing himself that the only reason for his presence in the nearly-empty anarchist commune is because phil sees him as a placeholder for his sons ;-; pain

Frame The Halves, And Call Them Brothers by MusicallyActive

"Let's go!" Quackity roared. "Let's fucking go!"

The anvil dropped, and Techno reached for his totem of undying. This was going to hurt like a bitch.

Phil screamed something, and instantly a crushing force struck Technoblade's skull. It rattled him to the core, doused his vision in red, and then all he knew was black.

He gasped awake moments later to the sound of his communicator pinging softly at his bedside table, and when Technoblade opened his eyes, New L'manburg was nowhere in sight.

one-shot, complete.

a techno timeloop fic that shows off the unintentional cruelty of the children who run l’manberg and techno’s own inability to allow the people he tries so hard not to love to come to harm. techno’s rendered in painstaking detail; this one was cathartic in the best way.

on i go (move to move) by Aenqa

If you ask someone whether they’ve ever experienced real, severe physical pain, you’ll learn a lot from their response.

Techno knows what it means to be in pain. He’s accepted it as a necessary consequence of keeping his family safe. But when the pain he's experiencing starts to become too much to bear alone, it takes his family to show him what it might mean to feel better.

one-shot, complete.

chronic pain fic featuring sbi!! it’s really good - aenqa wrote chronic pain well, and incorporated respawn mechanics into it well, and the dynamic between sbi is impeccable.

Yellow and Blue and- by nic_takes_Ls (nic_L)

It’s another gorgeous day in New L’Manberg. Tubbo’s stilted streets of deep toned spruce and honey-touched oaks are warm under his feet from the sun, and a sign and a small banner proclaim the country’s name in front of his face. Wilbur is so happy to let the ‘L’ roll of his tongue as he says it, ‘Manberg’ was harsh and too guttural, but the two extra syllables make it something that could fit on a melody, a four-note beat he could set the pace of his unbeating heart to.

The citizens of New L’Manberg track him with cautious eyes at first, until Tubbo changes his eyes to slightly sad ones, listening along to Wilbur’s rambles, warming up to the truly soot-grey sight of his face and sunshine yellow of his ever-present sweater. The rest of the population soon follow, laughing at Wilbur’s strange innocence and telling him what he’s done with only a little bit of spite in a pitying mask and fixing their mouths in a line when he suddenly forgets what he’s doing or stares into space or laughs at nothing.

But all the people who get sad when Wilbur starts laughing after shock-still silence are dumb.

Because Wilbur’s not laughing at nothing.

one-shot, complete.

a ghostbur fic from quite early on! it includes references to wilbur and schlatt’s older videos/smp experiences and has a super interesting take on the nature of wilbur’s amnesia i enjoyed this fic a lot ^^

east of eden series by subwaywalls

Philza protects his home.

(An angel with a singing blade of fire guards the gates to paradise.)

two one-shots, one ongoing multi-chapter fic.

READ IT READ IT READ IT. the eoe series is exquisite in both content and presentation, centering around sbi and the powers they all respectively have but also bringing in people like grian and dream, and subwaywalls is a master of packaging her words ever so delicately to create an experience that is ethereal.

#long post #fic recs #chrys rambles #asks

55 notes · View notes

luxrionne-sakamaki · 4 years

Text

I finally finished this one~ Thank you for being patient!

This hasn’t been proofread since my proofreader has been busy recently.

11/10 I bet Rinne hugs are really nice

Rinne Amagi x Reader

Rinne has been walking around the building, looking for a certain someone who has yet to appear,

“Niki! Have you seen (F/n)??” Rinne asked the male who had just finished serving a plate of wagyu cubes.

“I think she’s heading out to a nearby café to work on somethin’” Niki replied. Rinne thanked him before running off. Niki walks back behind the counter as HiMERU approached.

“They haven’t been really seeing other recently, right?” HiMERU asked as he sat on the high chair. Niki hummed and nodded as he began to prepare HiMERU’s usual, a cup of coffee.

“He’s been buggin’ me ‘bout that too” Niki served him his coffee which HiMERU thanked him for.

Rinne rushed out as soon as the elevator doors opened at the ground floor. He looked around to see if you were anywhere in that area but failed to locate you. He pouted but composed himself and walked out of the building.

“Which direction to take…” Rinne mumbled. He brought out a coin and flipped it. Once he caught it, he opened his palm which showed the coin on its tails.

“The right it is then. The God of luck better help me out” Rinne put the coin back in his pocket before turning right to search for a coffee shop with you in it.

While Rinne was searching for you, you had just placed an order at the counter and sat down a comfy chair by the café window. You placed your laptop on the table before you leaned back, shut your eyes and let out a soft sigh.

You took in the quiet buzz of the people, the noise of the machines, the smell of pastry and coffee, the knocking on the glass beside you-

“…Knocking?” You opened your eyes, lifted your head and stared outside. Your eyes widened as your eyes met with bright and mischievous electric blue eyes.

“Rinne!” He grinned and gestured to the entrance, indicating that he’ll be joining you soon. Just as soon as he left, you left to get your order and place another order for Rinne.

You picked up the tray and turned to start making your way back to your table. Rinne already sat there, waiting for you to return.

“What brings you here?” You asked as you placed the tray down before returning to your seat. Rinne stared at you for a moment before smiling.

“I wanted to spend more time with our lovely producer ya know?” Rinne said

“You’re so busy lately I can’t even spend time with my own girl” He added as he crossed his arms and frowned.

“I’m sorry, school and producer workloads are piling up recently” You sighed as you took a sip of your coffee.

“Is there anythin’ I can help with?” Rinne asked

“The last thing I want is you overworking yourself” He added as he moved to sit on the armchair of your seat.

“I have the other producers helping with some of the things. I can’t really let you help me much since you have idol work to do” You told him as you took a slice of your cinnamon roll and brought the fork up to Rinne.

He ate the slice before slinging his arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to him.

“Still, let’s help each other, yeah?” Rinne said as he pressed his lips against your head. You let out a hum before nodding and eating a piece of cinnamon roll.

“…” You could feel Rinne’s eyes on you so you turned to face him.

“What’ is it?” You asked. He said nothing as he cupped your face to examine it. You started getting anxious and even more confused.

“What are you doing?” You asked

“Hold on, there’s something on your face…” He looked so serious so it made you concerned.

“W- ehm, what is it?” You asked him. He gave you a quick peck on your lips before moving back with a huge grin on his face.

“It was me.” You stared at him in disbelief before turning away to hide your embarrassed and flushed face.

“Hmm? Are you embarrassed? You’re so cute!” Rinne happily said as he wrapped his arms around your shoulder. You refused to face him as he placed his chin on your shoulder.

He opened his mouth to say something but got cut off when your name got called for your order. You were about to get up to retrieve it but Rinne pushed you back down.

“I’ll go get it! You just sit there and we’ll continue on this little date~” He got up and left to get the order.

“What a mischievous man”

Request Status: CLOSED

~Izumi x Reader (2)

~HiMERU x Reader Soulmate AU

~Ritsu x Mao pt. 2 the day after NS~FW

~Dragon Tamer! Ritsu x Princess! Reader

~Ritsu x Barista!Reader

~Ritsu x Reader

~Kaoru x Reader

~Natsume x Reader

~Natsume x Aoba

~Kohaku x Reader

~Madara x Kanata angst

~Jun x Reader

~Hiyori x reader

#rinne amagi #rinne x reader #ensemble stars imagines #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #enstars #ensemble stars #rinne amagi X reader

127 notes · View notes

suca-loca · 3 years

Text

it’s been a long year since we last spoke (how’s your halo?)

Read on Ao3

Words: 11.5k

Tags: Hurt No comfort, Angst, No Happy Ending, No beta we die like Wilbur

Warnings: Body horror, Blood, Death, Suicidal Implications/Thoughts, Mentions Of Torture, Beating/Fighting

Author's Note: I tentatively present you all this fic as my ticket to board the Dream SMP Fandom. I took some creative liberties with this, such as hints of Niki and Wilbur being childhood friends, as well as Niki living near Techno's cabin, and making Niki respawning to restock her hunger bar during her spiraling/villain arc one of her canon deaths. Also, despite Niki wearing a new skin she has stated that her character still wears Wilbur's coat. Just adding that in here so people don't comment that I got her outfit wrong during a certain scene. And finally, even though I feel this is obvious, this is about the characters and not the streamers themselves. With that out of the way, enjoy the fic!

Summary:

"Time down here is like stars, Niki. We're dead, dead for thousands of years, but to them," he points up, "we still shine. It'll take light years for them to realize they are staring at just a memory."

She tries to take a step back, but she's rooted where she stands. "Wilbur," she weeps. "How long have you been down here?"

He laughs.

(There was a time it made Niki's heart stop. It still does, but for different reasons now)

"Eleven years."

Niki covers her mouth to stifle a broken cry.

or; Niki tries, unwillingly may she add, the whole being dead thing. Oh, and Wilbur is there to "help"

The worst part about it is that Niki's whole life doesn't flash before her eyes. It doesn't happen in slow motion and neither is there some comforting, bright light for her to walk towards. It's simply this: one second she's at Church Prime and the next she's falling into pitch blackness.

Then again, she should have known better than to expect any of that dumb cliche stuff 'cause it's not like she died or anything. Not really. Her communicator may say she did, but she knows the truth. She was teleported.

So why does this feel like dying?

foolish girl breaking at the seams from using the same stitching of a burning flag to put yourself back together again. you think the afterlife cares how you arrive? the entry fee is the same for all

She comes in screaming and doesn't stop even when that's all she is anymore. Her body is unrecognizable to her, turned inside out, muscles stretching and bending and snapping in an attempt to mimic the shape she once was.

(She wishes her muscles luck in regressing back into a memory because oh primes, oh dear primes did she try, try again to be the girl wore a white and blue uniform with pride, but that girl only exists now in dreams and sometimes nightmares)

But they can't, for her organs and bones and flesh do not know what it means to not be confined (but they should know, they really should, because she still finds it hard to breath in small spaces ever since Schlatt caged her between iron bars and dirt and Sapnap left her in a hole in the ground over a fish) and so they shake. Convulsing and spasming until she is just sound, just an echo of shrieks that are happening in the past or the present or the future depending on how fast it travels down this tight, narrowed cave she lands in.

Wait, lands in?

She finds herself laying flat on the ground. She blinks. Then does it again for good measure to make sure she's not imaging having eyelids.

She touches her face. Feels the crook of her nose, the curve of her chin, and her soft round ears.

It's all skin. No muscle, no tissue, just her.

Still her.

(For now)

Her body is back. Not whole though - never whole - for she will always be a walking empty space within a solid object, but for now, her body is right. Her body is here. She closes her eyes in relief.

Someone is staring down at her when she opens them again.

"Hello Niki," Wilbur says. "It's been a while."

(It's Doomsday. His name shows up on your communicator and so you become a lit match. The fire eats you away just like the bark of a tree, like the walls of a bakery, two things you once loved most, and you're watching them both burn with his coat over your shoulders, which doesn't help you ignore who you must look like, who you're acting like, whose footsteps you're following in; and doesn't it hurt to know that what's before you isn't just a friend but a reflection?)

She's already scrambling back before she's even fully sat up.

She doesn't get very far, not with the way her wrists twist and bend before finally buckling under the pressure, and she can't find the strength to stand up and run. So all that's left to do is hyperventilate at the way his eyes land on her face, roaming, analyzing, absorbing, trying to read her like a book, unaware she's ripped out the pages long ago. At the way his shadow covers her and maybe once it felt like a blanket, but that time has passed, now all it is is heavy, suffocating, pinning her down. At the way he wears his Pogtopia outfit, pressed and cleaned when the last she saw of it it was covered in ash and black feathers and red, so much red.

But it never comes. In fact, her lungs don't move at all. Almost as if she doesn't need to breathe. As if she hasn't been breathing since she's been down here.

Is that why it was so easy to keep screaming?

"You're not here," she whispers. "Not really."

Wilbur tilts his head to the left.

(Does it in a way a predator would while observing its prey from afar, waiting for the right moment to strike)

"Oh? Where am I then, Niki?"

"My head," Niki responds, practically blurting it out. "Yeah - yeah, that's right. This is just my head playing tricks on me again. A horrible horrible trick, but that's all it is. I - I know it."

Wilbur hums. He sits down as if this will take a while. As if she won't blink and he'll be gone. "Well, that's a damn shame. I was hoping it'd be a beach. Mexican Dream has been talking a lot about La Jolla lately. Sounds like a nice place."

He smiles, suddenly.

(No, not smiles, more like baring his teeth. His very normal teeth that give off the impression that they should be very sharp and very large and very deep in her throat right now)

"Let's hope I don't blow it up."

(Niki is shouting for Wilbur over the chaos when her communicator pings in her pocket. It gets hard to breathe as she reads what it says, and it isn't because every inhale of smoke and pulverized concrete from the tumbling buildings poison her lungs. There's a ringing in her ears, and it isn't because of the TNT that just detonated in front of her. She feels broken, and it isn't because the force of the explosion knocks her back and she skitters across the field, hitting rocks and choking on dirt until she stops on her stomach, limbs bent at weird angles. Her communicator lands right beside her, the screen shattered and static flashing, but she can still catch glimpses of what is on the screen, as clear as day, like a taunt: WilburSoot was slain by Ph1lza)

Niki scrambles to her feet, presses herself as much as she can against the walls, and maybe, just maybe, she'll glitch and go through it and suffocate in a block.

She immediately throws herself away from it when she realizes what she just thought.

Wilbur stands with her. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he says. "I thought it would lighten up the mood. So, how are you?"

"How am I?" Niki echoes. "I'm imagining my dead best friend even though I thought I was getting better and I could have sworn I was, I was I swear I was, and this place, this place, I don't know where this is but it, it just feels - I don't even know why - so familiar and so - "

She pauses.

She looks around.

She was so busy panicking from Wilbur's presence that she never took in her surroundings. She stares at the smooth stone walls, the occasional hanging vines, the little aquarium in the corner right next to the entrance, and, finally, the stand. The stand with two signs on the front that read -

No. It can't be. It just can't.

She won't believe it until she's seen the whole thing.

She walks further in, each step hesitant.

And she notices the way everything around her seems so devoid of life. Almost colorless. Close to numb. She thinks it's her body shutting down, the stress finally getting to her, but no. This is worse. Something's going on. She doesn't know what it is exactly, but she knows it isn't her that's wrong here.

(This time)

Wilbur follows closely behind and, as if to prove her point, his footsteps sound muffled, distant, apart from him, like in the way you hear something underwater.

Maybe she is underwater because everything is getting blurry and her face feels wet.

(Or maybe the better comparison is like hearing something behind glass. She's been tapping against the window of a caravan for months as men in suits discuss a country she bled for just as much as them, if not more, without her. The tapping turns to banging, but it is not the glass that shatters. Not the glass that breaks)

She stills as she catches sight of the small wheat farm in the back room, dried and frail and unkempt.

(Like a flower shop)

It really is her bakery.

"No," she mumbles. Then, more stern, as if it'll blow this place away, as Wilbur should have done the first time. "No no no no this can't… this can't be true. I, I shouldn't be here I - it doesn't make any sense, how how how - "

She whirls on Wilbur, the tears coming in waves now. "What are you doing to me?"

(It's his fault she's back here. It has to be, he's the reason you wanted to burn the memories why this is all gone why this should be gone why isn't this gone gone gone gone)

foolish girl who has become like the nation she despises, you are a crater, there is a hole inside of you where a soul once was and it was caused by your own hands because the only destruction you're good at is your own. you couldn't even kill a child with a nuke, so what makes you think you can end a small room on the side of some hill?

"What do you see?" Wilbur says, and the voice in her head disappears. She can't remember what it said. She shakes her head as if the words will fall out her ears.

Suddenly she can't remember why she's shaking her head.

Her next words come out frail.

"My… my bakery. But how? This shouldn't be possible I, I destroyed it - I - "

"Limbo is different for everybody," Wilbur interjects. "For me, it's a train station."

"Limbo? What are you talking about? What is going on? I was nowhere near L'manburg I was - " Niki's mind blanks.

(Smooth quartz all around her and she feels safe there, that she remembers because there is no killing here, the one place bloodshed does not haunt her, and then crushing disappointment that turns into actual crushing as her body gets shredded, mangled, undone like a ribbon except it does not look pretty)

Wilbur gives her a slicing smile. It cuts her down. "This is the afterlife, Niki."

She blinks. She tries to take a step back, but she's rooted to the spot. "What?"

"The afterlife," he continues, eyes sparkling. "Hell. The void. Eternal darkness. Whatever you wanna call it. I call it home."

"Home?" She repeats, shakily.

foolish girl with no place, no one to call home because she's an expert at finding comfort in things that don't stay, of course he sees this place as home. Although if he really wanted to surround himself in emptiness so bad then he just needed to wait a few months for you to become just that

"I'm not dead," she mutters. She attempts to laugh, because if she laughs then this will sound like a joke. Wilbur would joke about such a thing. After all, he poked fun at exploding L'manburg just a while ago. So of course this is a joke. It has to be. It is, and she will not allow her breakdown to be the punchline.

At Wilbur's unflinching smile she says it again, with more conviction. "I'm not!"

"How else do you think you're talking to me? How your bakery is still in one piece? Sorry to be your grim reaper Niki, but you're dead. And now you're here, in the afterlife, with me!" He leans in close, close enough that she should feel his breath on her.

There is nothing. He is nothing.

(And maybe, so is she)

"Isn't that great? We're together again! You and me, just like the old days. And look," His eyes glance at what she wears. It's the coat. Specifically, Wilbur's coat, wrapped around her shoulders.

"We're even matching," he coos.

She thinks she might scream.

She throws herself away from him, almost throws the coat too, but into the furnace next to her.

('I gotta burn the memories I need to destroy it I need to destroy it I need to destroy it,' she once screamed to no one but herself. History repeats itself)

How she ever found comfort in this ratty, old coat she'll never know. And she'll never care to find out. Not when Wilbur is acting like this, like before, like a loose city wire, all dangerous and unpredictable, each word an electric spark, and Niki is trying not to get stung. She remembers how that story ended.

But her's will not end. Not yet.

"I can't be dead," she argues. "I don't remember that I would remember something like that so I - I can't be dead, and I have two lives left so, no, no I can't be I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive and I'm in bed I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive and you're not real, just a nightmare. I'm alive I'm alive I'm - "

"It's really me, Niki," Wilbur says, and the fire from the furnace roars in response as if his words fan the flames. It's the first time something in this wicked place has felt alive. "In the flesh. Or, rather, a close imitation of it. I think my corpse must have liquified by now, swelling up for months before bursting open, leaving nothing but a skeleton behind. What about you? What did you leave for them to find?"

She covers her ears. "Stop! Stop it stop it stop it!"

"Remember it. Remember your last moments."

"Wilbur, please - "

"Feel your wrist," he says. No, orders. And she does. Because she, at her core, is still his soldier.

(She says that she is loyal to him and he responds by saying he wants her to be loyal to L'manburg. She remembers being confused, for she saw them both as the same. Wilbur is L'manburg and L'manburg is Wilbur, one cannot coexist without the other. A few months later, amongst the wreckage of her nation and a father's anguished screams, she'll realize too little too late how true her statement holds)

She doesn't find her heartbeat.

For a second she thinks she made a mistake. That she has her fingers in the wrong place, but no. A soldier knows where to look for life so that they may snuff it out. She can't be making a mistake.

Still, she presses her fingers down, harder this time, nails first, that blood draws, and sobs as she's still met with nothing.

She has no heartbeat.

She is dead.

She chokes. She clutches her chest, not because it hurts to know what she lacks in her chest, but because she remembers. Remembers it so intently, remembers it happening in the snap of a finger, literally, from a smiling God (and maybe it is quite a fitting end, for she goes out the same way she lived, giving second chances to men who don't deserve it) and how the world tilted as the ground slipped away.

But what's worse is the realization that comes after.

"I didn't leave anyone anything to find," she says.

Wilbur raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"I didn't leave anyone anything to find because I didn't die," she says again, but weaker. More horrified. "I was teleported. I was on the holy lands when - "

"Teleported?' Wilbur interrupts. His features, just a second ago, eccentric and mad, turn curious. "Wait wait wait, hold on a second, are you telling me you were sent to Hell, Hell, on the fucking Holy Lands? "

Niki weakly nods.

It goes silent.

Suddenly, a snort. A snort that does not sound like it once did, back before the war for independence, before the election, before banishment, before it all, when all there was was a caravan and the worst of their worries was getting Sapnap a vegan hotdog. It's meaner, more shrill, and laced with a madness that seems to roll off his tongue so easily nowadays.

If she weren't watching how hard Wilbur's shoulders shake she'd have never guessed such a sound would come from him.

But there's something else about this snort that chills her to the core. Although she never could have imagined it coming from Wilbur doesn't mean she hasn't heard this kind of laugh before.

It's almost breathless, almost like something left on a stove, steaming, almost like the sound of -

(Dream and Wilbur worked together, both wanted L'manburg gone, both almost killed a kid, both cut off attachments, both lost trust in others, all things Niki has done too, and if Niki is like Wilbur and Wilbur is like Dream then that means - )

(No. Please, no)

"That is -," Wilbur wheezes, wiping away a tear. "That is horribly ironic."

"DreamXD!" She shouts, head tilted up. "Take me back! Take me back right now!"

Wilbur shakes his head. "Oh, no need to try that. I've been there. The whole shouting for help thing? Yeah, will do you no good. No one can hear you down here."

"DreamXD! I'm here!"

"Scream all you want, prime knows you don't need to breathe down here so nothing's stopping you from doing it for forever, but when your screams are all you hear for eternity… well, it'll drive any person mad."

"DreamXD," she shrieks. And her lungs don't shake, don't even give a small quiver, she knows it. Nothing in her does, for the gears don't need to be turning to keep this machine of a body that's been on autopilot since an explosion knocked her off her feet alive anymore. "Please!"

"You stop talking after a few years of just endless screaming for your voice becomes a reminder of your entrapment. But then the silence itself, after a few years, is unbearable. Yet you don't dare speak or make any noise, so it's just madness of a new kind."

She pushes her way past him and makes her way to the exit of her bakery. "I - I liked the magic trick, DreamXD! I really did! You - you can teleport me back now!"

"Too scared to make a noise, but too scared to keep quiet. So you stand still. Your body deteriorates, muscles numb from lack of use, and all you do is use your nails to scratch marks onto the walls to mark how many years have passed since… since absolutely nothing."

She stills. She slowly turns around.

(L'manburg is surrounded by a wall. A wall so mighty and tall she never thought she'd see the day it'd be torn down, much less by its own inhabitants. But this wall right here, the one between her and this old friend, this is a wall that will never meet the same end as its predecessor)

"Wilbur," she whispers. "What do you mean by years?"

Silence.

Wilbur has a far-away look in his eye.

(That look was born in a dirt hole on the side of a small hill and Niki doesn't learn that lesson for she builds her bakery in a similar place. Two places, so small, so cramped, started with hope, have become their worst downfalls, their unfinished symphonies. She parallels him in all the wrong ways)

She tries to take a step back, but she's rooted where she stands. "Wilbur," she weeps. "How long have you been down here?"

He laughs.

(There was a time it made Niki's heart stop. It still does, but for different reasons now)

"Eleven years."

Niki covers her mouth to stifle a broken cry. She was paralyzed before but now, with fear pumping through her veins, she runs. Fear is a more dependent motivator than strength or bravery could ever be, for fear, unlike any other heroic emotion, can't be beaten out of you. Can't be threatened out of you by a friend on your birthday as you try to stop him from pressing a button. Fear only grows, like a weed, you can try to get rid of it all you want, but it multiplies the more you struggle.

She finally gets to the exit, nearly throwing herself at it, only to find a stone wall staring back at her. It's been cemented shut.

She's trapped.

(She is in a cage, a zoo animal for Manburg citizens to point and laugh at. It is cramped, it is humiliating, and it is her home, her everything in wake of becoming nothing to people she once considered friends, Schlatt tells her. Until Quackity frees her. But there is no one to free her now. Except herself)

She pulls up her sleeves and begins mining with her bare hands.

She's been torn apart before, but at least it was quick. This, the way her flesh slowly peels off at each scratch is its own kind of torture. Not because it's painful, but the torture in knowing what you're willing to do to yourself just to see the sky again.

She keeps going.

(She does not throw up at the sight of chunks of flesh dangling where nail once was because she is a soldier and she has seen worse. Seen a child trapped in a box screaming for help and she's unfortunate enough to have a seat in the splash zone. Helped patch up Ponk's wound where his arm should be, afraid she might lose him to blood loss because whoever chopped his arm off didn't cut across the joint to avoid the bone and therefore had to hack again and again and again to get through the bone. Sewed Fundy's head back together from when Schlatt beat him over the scalp with a beer bottle before dying in the caravan; it took a couple of hours to finish because his fur made it hard to spot the bits of glass sticking out his skin. This is not the first or last time she will wash blood off her clothes, she just has to hope it will continue to be someone else's and not her own)

Wilbur comes up beside her. He doesn't even try to stop her, much less flinch at all the red on the wall. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Tommy did."

She snaps her head to him, her clawing ceasing. "Tommy was here?"

He nods. "Arrived a few years ago. I have to admit, when a space opened up here I thought it would be him again, not you. Not that I'm complaining. Don't get me wrong he's a good kid but, well, you know how Tommy gets."

(Everyone you've ever hated, everyone you've ever sworn to end; Schlatt, Tommy, and although you do not hate Wilbur or Jack you're relationship with them is complicated because they remind you of when you spiraled, you lot are all connected now, bound together from sharing the similar experience of death. She can never separate herself from them. Will be rever grouped in with the people she can't stand most)

"How long was Tommy here for?" She asks softly.

Wilbur clicks his tongue. "Two months I think."

She closes her eyes.

(She wanted to look deep into the crater Tubbo's nuke made and confuse Tommy's charcoal, burnt body for obsidian. She wanted to catch Tommy's choked last breaths in a bottle and get drunk on it every night. She wanted to leave spruce wood on his grave as a sort of flag marking her latest conquest. She wanted to stop thinking that if Wilbur was wrong for believing in Tommy then that means he might have been wrong for believing in her)

She doesn't want Tommy dead anymore and although they're still not friends even she wouldn't wish this on him.

"Two months," she says, and it sinks in.

Is that how long she'll have to wait until someone comes looking for her?

That is if someone even cares to look.

(Puffy doesn't respond to any of her messages after their first date. She turns Jack away when he tries to pull her back into the obsession of caving Tommy's head in. Everyone grieving L'manburg remembers her setting L'mantree aflame. Anyone in the Eggpire is too far gone to even care about themselves. She doesn't have a Tubbo. Isn't anyone's disk. She's just Niki, forgotten, ignored Niki, the first ghost of the server before Ghostbur. Why spare a glance at someone transparent? Someone, not all there?)

No one will come for her.

Wilbur cracks his fingers, and Niki winces, for her bones are still on flesh display and slowly repairing. "Well, now that we've played twenty questions let's move on to a new game. You up for some solitaire?"

She rises to her feet and numbly nods. She might as well have something to do to, to try and prevent the inevitable insanity with a card game.

Might as well accept her fate.

Wilbur reaches into his pocket and pulls out the cards. He sits down on the ground. "Sorry," he says. "I'd offer we play on a table but there are no tables in a train station and I doubt your bakery has one either." He hands her half of the deck. "Help me set it up."

But Niki doesn't take them, for she's focused on the word table because -

(There's a table, a weird table, made up of this block she's never seen before. It's sponge-like, with a hole on top decorated by a blueish-green frame, and she's about to ask where they found it when Phil suddenly apologizes for exploding her bakery. At her shocked expression, he explains he'd like to air out all possible tensions before starting their first-ever official Syndicate meeting so that no past grievances keep them from working as an effective team. Techno merely snorts, saying it's not their fault her bakery was on government land, and Phil responds by shooting him a glare fit for his title as Angel of Death. She'd have laughed, she'd have cried because such a look was once how Phil got Wil to eat his vegetables if it weren't for the fact she tells them they have nothing to apologize for. Tells them she left the oven on the day before the attack and by next sunrise, it was already burnt to the ground. Ranboo doesn't blink once from where he sits across from her as she talks. She sees in his eyes that day, how her laughs and her wails blend in with the chaos around her, as if it belongs there, as if she is one with it. And maybe she is, for the fire that consumes her bakery grows and grows and grows but Niki just gets smaller and smaller and smaller as if she has to sacrifice bits of herself to keep the fire going. Perhaps she is, for every monster requires an offering, and her bakery is that. A representative of the old her burning alive to make room for the new, merciless, unhinged her. Good. She looks down at the flint and steel in her hand and in the reflection of the metal she sees a boy with mismatched eyes standing behind her, staring. And then he takes out his book and writes. It feels like Ranboo has placed a noose around her neck. The memory fades and she holds her breath. She waits for him to say something, to call out her lie. This time, Ranboo undoes the knot. He looks away)

Because she needs to tell Ranboo she appreciated his silence that day. Needs to joke about how all this snow reminds her of an ice cream shop and watch Ranboo nervously laugh as she lightheartedly punches him on the shoulder.

Because she needs to know how that story Phil was telling her about his adventures with Techno on another server, something about an Antarctic Empire, ends. Needs to feed the crows with him to make sure he doesn't stare at their wings for too long.

Because she needs to braid Techno's hair one last time while they talk about how pink is clearly the superior hair color. Needs to thank Techno for giving her these becauses, for they wouldn't exist in the first place had he not offered her a place in the Syndicate.

Ironically enough, she always knew she'd die before she could give back all that she owed them. But only because what she owed them was too long a list, too difficult to be expressed in any way that captured what they deserved.

(Somewhere, in a snow biome, there is a family. They're different from each other, too different at times, and yet Ranboo and Techno could wear each other crowns, each fitting perfectly on their heads and no one would know of the switch, except for Phil of course. Right now they're probably looking at their comms around the dinner table, confused by the last message. 'Nihachu fell from a high place.' They aren't worried. Not yet. But in a couple of days, months for her, they'll start to pace. Phil will stand at the edge of the roof, ready to step off, only to remember he doesn't have wings, can't look for her high up in the sky like he used to when she was a kid. Ranboo will force himself through experiments, lose sleep, break himself in, trying to learn how to teleport so as to cover ground faster in the search, to do more than just let his powers go to waste when they could be what brings her home. Techno will grab her rainbow sweater and put it to Steve's snout, but the trail will go cold every time until eventually all of Niki's clothes don't smell like her anymore. They'll do this every day. Nothing will change but their hope, dwindling away each day. So will they just stare at that last message, her unintentional goodbye, looking for some sort of explanation? For some secret message? Some coordinates until they go mad? They won't think she's dead until they've found a body. Won't stop looking, won't leave a corner of the server untouched. Won't stop till they have something to bury)

She can't do that to them.

She slaps the cards out of Wilbur's hands.

"No," she growls, trying to sound tough and less like a kid throwing a tantrum. Perhaps slapping the cards away was not the best start. "I am not going to waste my time playing Solitaire when I could be spending it finding a way back home. And I will if it's the last thing I do."

Wilbur frowns. Niki has the inkling suspicion it has more to do with the cards being all scattered about than from her declaration. "There is no 'last thing I do anymore.' You dying was the last thing you'll ever do. All you have now is this. This is your forever. Our forever."

She turns away from him, just for a second. Away from the sight of his furrowed brows and the crinkles in the space between them where her index finger would go to poke as she teased him. Away from the scrunch of his nose she would joke made him and Techno finally look like twins. Because despite everything, despite all the months that have settled into their bones since the last they saw each other and the wars they've fought on land and in their minds, it's still Wilbur's face. But only in the physical sense. After that, he stops being her Wilbur.

This would be so much easier if his face had physically morphed into a stranger, to prove to her how much he's changed, what he's become over the months, is not all in her head.

Somehow, she finds a way to start.

"You know, not too long ago I'd have stayed with you here. I wouldn't have even put up a fight. I'd have just laid down, closed my eyes, and let the vines on these walls grow over my body until I was just moss. I was… I was so tired, Wilbur. A part of me always will be. I understood. I finally got why you acted the way you did. There was a time I was on half a heart and instead of eating I would - "

Her body begins to shake so hard she almost expects to look down and she cracks in the ground from an incoming earthquake. The only cracks see she's are her own.

She can't say it. Not like that. Not yet.

" - I would respawn to restock the hunger bar," Niki chokes out instead.

(She respawns with dried blood on the back of her head and bones still rattling from the fall. Along her jutting spine, in an almost perfectly straight line that could be confused for an unkempt path lost to weeds and drought, are bruises. She doesn't feel them. All she feels is the urge to do it again)

She blinks and her hand is in her hair, looking for the bump. She pulls her hand away as if it's a hot furnace. "But I can't stay. Things have changed. I've changed. This is not the first time something dark has tried to consume me, but I can't let it win this time. I can't let this place turn me numb and unhinged, or worse, content. Not when I have people to go home to. Not when - "

She looks down at her hand, the one that traced her scalp, and sees it has clenched into a fist.

(At the count of three, Niki throws rock. She groans as she notices all the other hands make paper. Ranboo and Techno exhale as if the losing sentence wasn't shoveling the front lawn, but death. Or worse, going shopping with Phil for a refrigerator to put in the Syndicate meeting room. Ranboo lost that one. Niki points at Techno's hooves and says it's cheating since they can't ever tell which shape he chooses. She demands a rematch with the same tone one uses to declare war. A few minutes later, they're shouting, going over the rules of rock, paper, scissors, and they only stop when Phil comes home and pulls out the dad voice. They begrudgingly agree to do a rematch another time, once they've cooled down. That was yesterday)

She holds her fist close to her heart. The hand was never her rock, it was always three men in a snowy cabin, handing her a mug of hot cocoa. "Not when I have a lawn to shovel."

Silence.

Then, Wilbur sighs. "You know," he says. He places his arms behind him and leans back to get a better look at her. Somehow, even on the ground, he looks to hold all the power. "Years ago your determination would have been a sight for sore eyes, but here's a reality check. I've been here for almost a dozen years. Eleven years of letting the passing train rip right through me in the hopes it would send me to another layer of hell or maybe propel, heck, even drag my body to the next station. But every time I'd wake up back in the train station as if nothing had happened. Like my body breaking under the wheels was nothing."

He is an avalanche, growing and picking up speed with each word, and Niki realizes, too little too late, she's about to be buried alive. She tries to step back, but Wilbur is up quick and approaching. "There is no escape. The limbo is our stage and we have our lines, our cues, but we do not have a curtain call. We just keep going and going, an endless loop. You can't not play your part. It won't let you."

"I have to at least try," she says.

"Why? What's the point? They'll never know you tried."

Her fear turns to disgust. "Is that why you think I'll try? For the sole reason that one day they'll know what I've done for them? That's far from the truth."

(People built statues of Tommy, for all he's done, for all the influence he had on this server. Niki knows they will not give her the same treatment. But that's fine, more than fine. All she needs is a grave in the snow, beside a little cabin)

She didn't want to look at Wilbur's face before, but now, glaring at him straight on, all she sees staring back is Phil.

The day they found out Wilbur didn't inherit Phil's immortality was the day Phil looked like he should, centuries-old instead of thirty-three, the age when angels stop physically aging. Niki will never forget how deep the lines on Phil's face ran. They might as well have been cracks. And maybe it was, for Phil was breaking as he held his dying son - not dying now, but for an immortal, every second a mortal breathes is just inevitable death - in his arms.

But what still haunts Niki the most after all these years are his eyes. They carried the weight of the world in them. She could feel it, even now, pressing down on her shoulders. All the wars, the fall of cities, the birth of them, children with big smiles and even bigger graves.

Niki was not a soldier yet. She was just a nine-year-old girl who wanted to sleep over at her best friend's house.

She threw up in their sink and they mistook it as her reaction to the news. She didn't correct them.

The only reason she slept easy that night was from the knowledge she would never see those eyes on Wilbur's face. And yet, lo and behold, here it is, like a punch to the gut.

Except now, Niki has had time to numb herself to it. It's hard to get surprised by such a dead look when it's on the face of your roommate.

(Phil's screech - no, not a screech, a caw, high pitched and grief-stricken - is like an alarm clock. Except, instead of Niki waking up to the rising sun outside her window, it's to moonlight and blinking stars. This is the fifth time this month she's met Ranboo and Techno outside Phil's cabin, armed to the teeth, ready for war. The door creaks open, loudly, but they don't wince, for they know it won't wake him. Nothing really does when he's in this state, except for one thing. Techno holds him down and it's weird, will always be weird, to see Techno use such force, such retaliation, on Phil of all people, and then Phil nearly throws Techno through the wall with just a brush of his fingers, and she remembers it's necessary. This isn't Phil they're dealing with, it's the Angel of Death. It takes a while until Techno can get all of the Angel's limbs down, but even then they know it won't last long, and that's when Niki throws a slowness potion on him. Ranboo, meanwhile, turns around all the photos of Wilbur in the room, a safe distance away. They told him it's best he handles that since he's built like a stick, putting him anywhere near a powerful avian would be an accident waiting to happen. It definitely has nothing to do with them freezing up whenever they see Wilbur's smiling face, all happy, and so very alive. Phil's movements turn sluggish as the potion kicks in and Niki holds his face, murmurs soft words, and Techno gives his own weird, but comforting, comments. Something about how Phil can't afford to lose sleeping beauty to these night terrors, what with his old age. Niki snorts. Phil's eyes open immediately. Phil sucks in a sharp breath, like he's forgotten how to breathe, his fist clenching and unclenching. The eyes are back. Based on Techno's face Niki knows then she's not the only person that has seen them. They look at each other, nod, and hold him as he cries. They don't need to ask. There's only one person that could cause such a look. They force Ranboo, who is awkwardly standing to the side, to join. Eventually, they break apart, and Techno coughs. He says he hates them for making this all emotional and bans such an awkward event from ever happening again. And yet, when Phil keeps waking up with eyes too dark around the corners, Techno is there. And so is she and Ranboo)

She will not be the reason Phil's eyes age another year.

"It's about Phil, Techno, and Ranboo deserving someone who will never stop trying to find their way back to them," she says, with conviction. "I'm sorry you're too twisted to see not all actions stem from reward or acknowledgment."

She expects a laugh, a glimpse at his forked tongue spewing words so sweet she could use them as sugar in her desserts, only to take a bite and realize it was salt all along. But what she gets is silence. The type of silence before a storm.

"Phil?" Wilbur whispers.

Niki closes her eyes.

She should have never said their names.

She also should have never opened her eyes again, because Wilbur is looking more like Phil each second. Not because of the eyes. No, worse. Because she sees a boy, a boy with his arms spread open wide and flapping about in an attempt at mimicking his father's wings, and they're both running around in circles in the backyard as he tells her how she'll never have to walk anywhere ever again. He'll carry her when she's tired, when she's not tired, whenever she wants wherever she wants. They stop running around in circles flapping their arms when too much time has passed and his wings still haven't grown in, but the acceptance that it never would did.

She blinks and the memory is gone. Slipping through her fingers like sand.

"How is he?" Wilbur says. His voice wavers a bit. He hides it quickly with a cough, but Niki catches it. Niki thought she always would.

(But then a button was pressed and she realized just how untrue that was)

Niki hesitates. She thinks about the night terrors again. She almost mentions them but falters as she remembers Ranboo telling her how it was Phil who gave him a place to stay after L'manburg was blown up for the last time. How as Technoblade hibernates there's a blanket over his shoulders that wasn't there before and a stick missing from the fireplace. How he always places Niki's plate of breakfast down before the others, as if he knows of her first canon death.

He is a kind man, but that is not why he does these things.

"He misses being a father," she settles on.

Wilbur's shoulders slump. Somewhere, in a different life, Niki's hand is there, squeezing comfortingly. "Is he… is he mad at me?"

"No." She answers quickly. "He's just tired, Wilbur. We all are."

Wilbur laughs. It sounds defeated. Mournful. "Understatement of the fucking year."

He slumps against the wall and Niki is sure it's the only thing keeping Wilbur on his feet. His head hits the smooth stone when he suddenly throws his head back and laughs. Niki doesn't know if she winces from the loud crack the impact makes or from the shrill, unhinged laugh.

"I told him to kill me," Wilbur chuckles. His eyes are blinking rapidly. "I told him to fucking kill me."

(The diamond sword has collected dust. Sometimes, everyone jokes, Phil looks like he has to. Playful teasing about how he's a walking antique that should be displayed in a museum. Phil always laughs them off. But it's moments when he stands too still, alone in his thoughts for too long, that Niki wants to put him behind glass with signs that say 'do not touch,' because all it takes is one gust of wind for an artifact to shatter. But that is no way to live and Phil is not so easily breakable. Worn down a bit, rusted from the loss throughout the eons, yes - who hasn't on this forsaken server? - but not breakable)

Niki thinks she might throw up. "I know."

Wilbur looks at her. His eyes are red, but there are no tears. "You said you understood me. You get why I had to ask him to do it."

"Wilbur - "

" - And so you also understand why you have to stay here."

"What?"

"We've changed Niki," Wilbur starts. "For the worse. Don't you feel it? How that server has destroyed every cell in our body? A slow painful death eating us from the inside out until we've just withered away into someone new, someone unrecognizable?"

(Niki feels she's in a never-ending house of mirrors. Constantly encircled by reflections that are her and not her staring back, each representing different points in her life. Some are unrecognizable, stretched, or squished beyond identification, like a fuzzy memory of a girl carrying a backpack, skipping down a path she was told by a best friend would lead to a nation with yellow and black walls. Some are too terrifying, demonizing her features, giving her slits for eyes and claws for nails holding flint and steel over TNT. All of them she wants to smash)

Wilbur either ignores the horrified expression on her face or doesn't see it. "We killed our old selves as a sacrifice, an offering, to the monster we saw lurking in the edges of our mind. And once you let the monster in there's no going back. All we know from then on is to destroy, to rip apart all we once held dear with no remorse until there's just ash and dust. We thrive, no, revel in it."

(Nemesis, she names herself. Goddess of divine retribution and revenge. Maybe that's who Niki sacrifices herself to. Why she felt such an attachment to the name. A remorseless Goddess said to have led Narcissus to a pool, knowing full well he'd be too captivated to leave his reflection for food or warmth. He died there. It's no coincidence a few weeks before she lived the story herself, leading Tommy to his death in the form of a hot blast of air at the speed of light and seeing it as justice)

"I'm not having this conversation with you," she says, voice shaking. She whirls around, nearly tripping over her feet, fully willing to ignore him as she looks for an exit.

But his next words make her go still.

"Phil didn't know what I'd become. That's why he had to be the one to do it."

She winces. "Don't."

"He didn't even pull out the sword, his arms were too busy holding me, holding me, as if the shape of me still fit against his chest even though I felt so hollow, so much thinner - "

"Wilbur - "

" - he stroked my hair too. Even though it was dirty and unkempt and a mess like everything else about me and I'm pretty sure his fingers got stuck a few times he just wouldn't stop untangling each knot with such care and precision that I remembered my last thought being - "

"Wilbur - "

" - could he have brushed away all the knots and twists in my soul like this? Cleaned me up on the inside like he's doing on the outside? I thought I went crying, Niki. Maybe I did. I'll never know because all I felt was his tears ricocheting on my face - "

"Stop - "

" - he tries to wipe them off. He's cursing at himself, apologizing profusely through hiccuping sobs and, and I don't understand why he's so sorry when it feels like, like when he'd lick his fingers and scrub the grimes of our faces after we played outside too long. Do you remember that Niki - "

"I don't wanna - "

" - because I do. We'd screech so loud, saying it was disgusting and unsanitary as we slapped his hand away and ran, but he'd always catch us a second later because of his wings. I don't wanna run away this time. I'm relishing it, craving every stroke because I'm starting to go cold - "

"Please - "

" - and I wish you weren't teleported here. I wish you had died instead - "

"Wil - "

" - so you would know, so we could relate to what it feels like for the limbo to claim you. To mark you. It's like, it's like being mutilated over and over again. A mallet to your bones, a hole in your brain, everything from your skin to your tendons unraveling before you - "

"Wil listen - "

" - spilling out and about like confetti, and you, you are confetti! You're shredded pieces, everywhere and nowhere all at once, and just as the mangling begins it stops, replaced by the limbo trying to put you, no, force you back together again. It's the same sensation, but in reverse, almost a loop, a tunnel with no light at the end, and all you can do is scream - "

"WILBUR SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!"

Something shatters

Wilbur falls silent.

Niki looks down. There is a puddle, slowly growing at her feet. She looks to her left. Her hand has punched through the aquarium. Blood trickles down her hand, some get over the glass. She doesn't pull her hand away.

"You never listen," she mumbles, but it seems so loud to her ears. "No one does. No one wants to. I talk and I talk and I talk and yet no response. Not even from the wind. I am a voice box stuck on rewind, repeating myself as life moves on without me."

Niki can hear her voice ring down the bakery, bouncing around with nowhere to settle. Until it does, in Niki's chest, rattling, crackling like a fuse has been lit, and perhaps it has, for her anger feels sizzling. "You used to always say how words were powerful. How they could stop wars, how they could build nations." She lets out a laugh. It burns her throat. "But what would I know?! You and everyone else never gave me a chance to use my voice! Always talking over me whatever chance you could. Even before Pogtopia you walked all over me! Even when I was screaming at top of my lungs you'd - "

She gasps. The glass presses deeper into her skin as her hand trembles. She does not feel it. "Oh primes, oh primes Wil, didn't you hear my screams? I came here screaming, Wil. I, I do know what it feels like for the void to take you. I still feel it, even now, why, why do I still feel it - "

Wilbur staggers to his feet, so quick he promptly falls. He catches himself halfway on Niki's wrist.

His hand scratches on the glass. He doesn't even flinch. Their blood mixes.

(They are one)

He doesn't even grip too tight, and yet it hurts. Stings. "You do understand," he grins. Wide, too wide for his face, that she almost expects his nose and eyes to sink into his skin to make more room. "You do, you do oh thank primes. I'm not alone in this. I've been alone for so long but now, now you're here and you understand! Oh, Niki, I'm so happy you're here."

"You're… happy, I'm here?" She mutters. "You're happy I'm dead?"

He nods frantically. "It's more than that Niki," he says. "DreamXD, whoever that man is, he's my hero for sending you here."

(Parallels between Wilbur and Dream and her and now Wilbur and Dream and DreamXD no no no she can't be them she can't she can't she won't she won't - )

"You don't mean it," she cries. "You don't mean that Wil. Say you don't mean it."

The grin, somehow, becomes wider. She realizes then his eyes don't have to disappear. They're already gone. Replaced by a black hole, too dark in the corners and its gravitational pull making it hard to look away even though she knows staring at it too long will get her sucked into an endless void.

He leans in close like he's sharing a secret. "I only wish he had sent you here sooner."

(Wilbur's life, Niki is realizing, is like a house of mirrors too. Except Wilbur has smashed every mirror. No, actually, not true. Niki sees, if she squints, that Wilbur has abandoned the sledgehammer and is observing a still intact mirror. He didn't keep the mirror depicting a little boy sitting on the steps of a home, their home, trying to play a song and failing because the guitar is too big for his body, but he refuses to buy a smaller one because "this is my Dad's guitar Niki! So, therefore, it's by default the best guitar in the world". Or the one of a father panting heavily on a couch, cursing his human legs while Niki is doubled over laughing because there is a baby fox is running on all fours around the house at 45 miles per hour who doesn't want to be put to bed. Nor the one of a leader, handing out purpose and meaning in the form of a blue and white uniform with a soft smile. No, it's the one of a man who's just pressed a button. Who long before L'manburg's destruction, always felt like he was breathing in smoke, but now kept warm by the ash and dust of his nation flying up to the red sky, it feels - for the first time in a long time - easier to breathe. Niki can't believe he didn't destroy it. He's… preserving it. Why is he preserving this version of himself of all things?)

foolish girl with dreams for a better nation, better server, better future, too much better somethings, you've ruined reality for no one but yourself. think for once about what is and not what was or could have been. he is different. changed for the worse. he's preserving it because he doesn't care about you. can't you see how happy he is over your death? how there's light in his eyes for the first time over yours being snuffed out? how he shows no sympathy in your entrapment here, forever away from Techno, Phil, and Ranboo because it benefits him. so give in and fight fight fight fight

She sees red.

Her fist collides with Wilbur's nose.

She doesn't even wait to hear the crack before she's already reeling back her arm for the next hit.

This time she aims for the jaw. She feels something split. It could be Wilbur's lip or bone. Maybe her mind. She doesn't know and she doesn't care.

What she does know is how familiar this is, having something break under her knuckles. It's easy, familiar even, throwing punch after punch, like some sort of autopilot response. Perhaps it is, for every punch is instinctive, out of body almost. No longer is there a before in the blows, only an after.

Except, that's not true. Not entirely. Because Niki is realizing why there is no before. Because before each blow there is always a struggle from your opponent. Flailing limbs trying to make contact with something, choked wheezes, an attempt to curl into a ball, and, sometimes, begging.

Wilbur does none of that. He's silent the whole time.

It's almost like he takes it willingly.

clever girl with hands too bruised, too scarred, too violent to ever be held so gently. a finger trained to pull the trigger is not meant to bear a promise ring. who's fault do you think that is? you've held back for so long, don't stop now. so give in and get revenge revenge revenge revenge

A swing at his eye. A swift kick to the ribs. A fistful of his hair so tight she could yank his scalp off if she twisted her wrist just so.

It's all a flurry of movements really, too fast for even her own eyes to catch. Half of the time she's lost on where the hits land, totally dependent on wherever the blood leaks the most and the bruises that weren't there a second ago to tell her. Eventually, the damage starts to blur, too much of his face has swelled up to spot any new marks and too many limbs bend at weird angles to differentiate what is and isn't broken, so she stops trying to guess.

Which is why she doesn't know which strike finally gets Wilbur to fall, all she knows is that he does. He doesn't even sway. One second he's on his feet and the next he's on his back.

It's kinda pathetic really, that this was her general.

For a second he's still, too still, and then he spits out a tooth. He licks his gums with a grimace, looking for the gap before finally speaking.

"I see Technoblade's been training you. Do you feel better now?"

clever girl who's seen her fair share of men with livewire tongues, spitting rogue sparks at your skin in the form of harsh words to quiet you down. do not be silenced once more. you let him speak before and it cost you a nation. this time silence him, and I will secure you a limbo without him. so give in and maim maim maim maim

She screams. She thinks she does. It's hard to tell over the deep reverberated banging of Wilbur's head against the stone floor.

The first slam simply causes blood to trickle down his forehead.

The second one caves in the front of his scalp.

The third one he's unrecognizable.

The fourth one there's nothing left to bash.

She keeps going anyway.

"Shut up," she pants between each crack and occasional splat. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP."

Wilbur tries to say something. All that comes out is a gurgle, wet and sharp and loud. So very loud. And it keeps going, stringing along and along and along longer than the large chunks of skin and brain on the pavement. It shouldn't be possible, his mouth, along with everything else, is practically gone. Nothing but a small pit inside a bigger pit.

Yet it continues, getting increasingly louder in pitch.

And then she gets it.

He's scared.

clever girl of never-ending war zones, jumping from one horror to the next. this is the last one. and I know that's been said before but you can trust me. just end it and you can finally rest. wouldn't that be nice? so give in and kill kill kill kill kill

She smiles. It hurts her face.

She picks his head up from the ground one last time. She's humming, like a lullaby. Maybe it is. She's putting the baby to sleep. She knows he can't die again, but wherever he goes after this, if the limbo keeps its promise, it can't be pretty.

"I said," she laughs. "Shut up."

She brings his head down.

She blinks.

Her empty hand meets black stone slabs.

"Niki?"

She looks up and immediately regrets it. Everything is too bright, scorching, a burning gaze on every inch of her skin, but what really hurts are her eyes. She thinks they're sizzling, like actually sizzling, because her sclera feels as if it's bubbling and her iris is definitely melting into her brain and there are so many spots dancing behind her eyelids.

And then the voice, soft and familiar, speak's again.

"Do you have your stuff?"

It takes a while, and a lot of blinking, but her eyes eventually readjust.

She gasps.

The first thing she processes isn't that George and DreamXD stand just a few feet away or that it was George speaking. No, it was how absurdly colorful, everything was.

Here there was life. Life. It was like she poked her head through a kaleidoscope, what with how the specks of a rainbow illuminated itself in the clear blue water of the fountain and the sight of shimmering white quartz glistening under the sunbeams that poured through the purple-tinted windows. No longer was everything dulled around the corners and drained at the center like anything in her dreadful, cramped space of a bakery she shared with -

Oh primes.

Her bakery.

This isn't her bakery. This is Church Prime.

"She's back," DreamXD exclaims. He turns to George, bouncing on his heels excitedly as if expecting some sort of reward, but George pays him no mind/ He's too busy looking at Niki, or, more so, through her.

"What happened?" He asks.

She opens her mouth, then slams it shut.

She's alive. Dear primes, she's alive and she's back and she should be happy, cheering, jumping up and down to feel the livelihood ache in her bones but…

She looks back down at the floor. The floor should be covered in blood. Wilbur's blood, and his bits of flesh and tissue and muscle and -

Oh primes. What has she done?

Or better yet, what didn't she do?

"George," she whimpers. "I don't know what's going on. I, I don't know what's going on here."

She hopes it was her imagination. It had to have been. Otherwise, she hosted Wilbur's head up by the splits of his hair, pushed down as hard as she could and -

She wouldn't. She couldn't, not anymore at least. She left that side of herself in a gate full of slaughtered chickens as Jack demanded they try and kill Tommy again. That side of her is as dead as those chickens.

Right?

She prays so, for this is a church after all, and that means prayers have to be answered here. They have to come true. They have to.

There's a smile in DreamXD's voice when he speaks again as if he knows how much this torments her. "I sent her to hell and then I brought her back."

No.

She sobs. She looks down at her hands. Their bear and yet they feel so heavy. As if the ghost of Wilbur's blood and gore is still there, a new thick-coated layer of skin.

She tortured him. Broke him brick by brick again and again and again even as he tried to beg. Her best friend, her general, her family, begging at her feet, and she kept going, would have kept going too, with an ear-splitting grin, like it was some sort of game.

And it had felt so good to finally get a checkmate.

Wilbur is not a demon. He's just seen too much in too little time. Too much pressure on too little shoulders. Too tired to be all there. It's not an excuse for all the pain he's caused, far from it, but it shows his actions didn't come from a place of malice, but rather a cry for help. Niki knows this, she gets it, and she'll say it time and time again. But all she could think about at that moment, before the final strike, was how happy Wilbur was about her death. He deserved a piece of her mind, but not like that. Never like that.

What is wrong with her?

No, no it wasn't her. It was that place, that voice. It was a parasite, burrowing deep within her brain and planting itself in the center, telling her what to do and what to say. Telling her to slaughter left and right. It was so loud, rattling around in her head and echoing like war drums. She couldn't just ignore it, it was too much. So, no, she is free of guilt, free of responsibility, hands all clean.

But she knows that at the end of the day the host still needs to be somewhat conscious for the parasite to thrive.

Oh primes. Is this what Techno deals with every day?

Then, she jumps to her feet.

Techno, Phil, and Ranboo.

It's coming back now, that memory of fury in her eyes, that fire in her voice as she told Wil she had people to go back to. How she was willing to claw her fingers down to bone to make an exit. But that voice, that stupid stupid voice, it told her she could rest, could get revenge, and against her better judgment she listened. It caught her at a moment of weakness, Wilbur's words of memory lane, of Phil, of everything that came before and after his death, she was at a low point. And like a moth to a flame, she was there one moment and gone the next. Back to the old her.

She thought she had left that version of herself behind when she joined the Syndicate. She was so sure she was getting better with Techno, Phil, and Ranboo around.

But all it took was one voice to ruin all her progress.

Her chest constricts and her head feels heavy.

She needs to find them. She needs to tell them what she saw. She needs to tell Phil. She needs… she needs…

She just needs them.

"What did you see?" George says, snapping her out of her thoughts.

This time, her mouth has no problem moving. "George," she starts, voice trembling. "I have seen things. I... I... I have seen things. I don't know what's going on here but I don't know if I should - "

Niki gulps. It's getting so hard to breathe. She should feel thankful that she can breathe in the first place, but every inhale stings as her lungs try to remember to do a motion so foreign to her.

How long has she been down there?

She doesn't want to know.

She just wants to go home.

She walks away, backward, from the two, eyes fixated tightly on them and barely blinking. She remembers the last time she let her guard down around DreamXD. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry George. Good luck with him but I - "

She doesn't finish, because she's already out the door. She wants to run, but she's so sure her lungs would explode at the first push forward of her heel. So she walks.

And walks.

The world walks with her, with each rotation. As if they’re friends taking a stroll. As if it hadn’t cracked open and swallowed her whole, chewed up everything good in her and spat her out when she turned bitter. Returned her back to a world that didn’t change one bit while she was gone, despite her herself changing so much.

It’s like what happened to her didn’t happen at all.

And then she realizes a horrible thing.

Everyone on this server is going to see today as a normal day.

Is it bad that a part of Niki wishes something like the Green Festival could happen right now, so that they could all feel the monstrosity of today?

She stands still. Stationary, like this Earth wants her to be. She thinks she could do it, stay like this forever. She feels numb enough.

Somewhere above, a crow caws.

She burst into tears.

#dream smp #fanfic #fic #niki nihachu #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ranboo #the syndicate #the syndicate are found family because I said so #dsmp #niki #niki fic #niki nihachu fanfic #niki fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #dsmp fanfic

14 notes · View notes

dramaticsnakes · 3 years

Text

The Revived - Chapter 11: A walk

This is chapter 11 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @rainbowbutterfrosting and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Tubbo, Ranboo, Michael

Word count: 3205

Cw: guilt, mentions of violence, worry, mentions of death, mentions of bruises, mentions of food

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

Wilbur considered himself quite the genius when it came to politics and creating whatever he wanted from the ground up. It was one of the things he was proud of, all things considered, and it had left its mark on the world.

Now, Wilbur was standing in said mark and was increasingly uncertain of what to do. His genius encompassed that, but not so much fixing something as fragile as social connections. He didn’t mind this perhaps and had accepted before, that happiness was not the sort of thing he could create. Though Ghostbur, goodhearted Ghostbur, filled Wilbur’s mind with faint whines and cries, that really shouldn’t get to Wilbur the way they did. In short, Ghostbur wasn’t very helpful as of now, and neither was the pit of guilt in his own chest, and the feeling of blood pulsing through his hands.

Wilbur was a genius, but every once in a while when he allowed regret to take a hold, his mind became so foggy, that he couldn’t even hold onto that part of himself. Instead, he was left a numb mess of a person, but he’d tried it so many times, that he knew how to keep such a mess together.

He was walking around, absentmindedly looking at the ruins of the fallen nation, the sight suddenly reminding him of an empty train station that went on forever. Drowning in the lack of air underground, his only escape leaving him behind time and time again.

That was when something slammed into Wilbur’s leg, gripping it tightly. His eyes widened, all instincts telling him that it was time for battle until he looked down to see a familiar toddler.

Although his body didn’t relax much at the sight of Michael, his mind did. He let out a small laugh and kneeled down. “How ya’ doing, little man?”

Michael snorted and rubbed his face into Wilbur’s leg. Wilbur smiled and gently patted the top of the child’s head.

Ghostbur’s quiet voice intruded, “Wait, you didn’t tell me you were going back to the mansion. I- I’m not upset or anything, I just thought… you said you would tell me before you went to the nether.”

Wilbur pursed his lips, but any words he could have spoken were interrupted. “Oh hey, Wilbur!” He looked up and saw Tubbo. He looked slightly out of breath, but fine nonetheless. Ranboo stood next to him, grabbing a red rope from off of the ground. Wilbur tilted his head at this, even more so when he saw it connected to something on Michael.

“Nice to see you again, Tubbo!” Although his voice showed the enthusiasm it normally would have, Tubbo winced from it. Wilbur furrowed his brows in confusion, expecting an explanation.

After a moment of silence, Ranboo spoke, “Where did you get the bruises from?”

Wilbur’s confused expression stayed until he remembered his encounter with Niki. He doubted his interaction with Tommy would have bruised yet, but he still gently held his throat. He didn’t know why, but the action felt reassuring to him.

But what should Wilbur even tell them? ‘I was kidnapped by one of the kindest people I know and she hit me repeatedly because she thought I was someone pretending to be me,’ wasn’t exactly a conversation he wanted to have. After a few seconds he settled on, “It’s a long story.” It wasn’t the answer anyone wanted, but it would have to suffice. Besides, he wasn’t exactly lying to them. Part of him reasoned that it was a lie of omission, but he shoved that part of him deeper than the hole of L’Manberg was. He tried to change the topic, “How have you guys been?” He stopped patting Michael’s head in exchange for rubbing his back gently. Michael looked up at Wilbur, and he almost melted from the adorableness in the toddler’s eyes.

Tubbo answered, “We’ve been good. We were just taking Michael on a bit of a walk, typically no one’s in L’Manberg due to it being all… yeah. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like?”

“Oh… I…” Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, all things considered. The interaction from before lingered in his mind, but he tried his best to push it aside. “I mean,” he swallowed, “I guess I’ve got fuck-all else to do, huh.” he chuckled, though Ghostbur made a strange noise, that caused it to falter.

“We’re… We’re still by L’Manberg?” he asked, breathing deeply, “Okay.” he still didn’t seem too cheery, though he hadn’t commented on the fact that Tommy hadn’t returned. Perhaps he’d forgotten, and Wilbur wasn’t sure why that thought filled him with all sorts of feelings that weren’t relief.

“Cool!” Tubbo said, and his smile was there, but the hesitance of the time apart was clear, and Wilbur wasn’t too fond of it. There was something grim, and disconcerting about the simple fact, that Tubbo still seemed to believe in him.

Wilbur watched as Michael grunted and smiled at all three of them. The toddler reached out for Wilbur’s hand, and for a mere second, Wilbur felt a strangely comforting feeling rush through his body. He accepted the hand, partially expecting it to be drawn away immediately, but the toddler’s hand lingered.

Wilbur Soot, the genius behind L’Manberg and its destruction, a semi-collected mess of a person, and the one who cheated out of death, was holding the hand of a toddler. Tubbo laughed warmly at the sight. “Michael’s been going on and on about you since you left, you know.”

“What’s this feeling in my hand?” Ghostbur asked curiously, though he let out a calm breath, “It… It feels nice.”

“Has he now?” Wilbur asked softly, his eyes not leaving the child. “I suppose I am a bit unforgettable,” he said slightly louder.

That provoked a laugh from all of them, and perhaps Wilbur could take this moment for his own as if he had the right to something this simple. Just for now, while he was waiting for a chance to continue on with his plans, or until he was left alone to his thoughts again. Or well, as alone as you could be when you had a ghost inside your head.

The three of them walked through L’Manberg, and Wilbur took in the ruins of buildings he had never had the chance to see when they were complete, a strange melancholy stinging his throat. Eventually, they made it to Church Prime, a building Wilbur remembered quite clearly, and that still seemed mostly intact.

“We were going to go visit Puffy for some flowers,” Tubbo explained, but before Wilbur had the chance to ask who the hell Puffy was, Ranboo butted it.

“Actually… Yikes, some of the flowers might be yellow. It might not be a good idea to bring Michael in for that.” he laughed awkwardly.

“Oh shit, yeah!” Tubbo said, “You may have a point.”

Wilbur exhaled sharply through his nose, as he watched the two ponder the situation.

“I can just go into the flower shop myself.” Ranboo said, with a smile, “You guys catch up!”

Before they knew it Ranboo was heading off to a little building across from Church Prime, that Wilbur hadn’t seen before, and Michael looked distractedly in that direction.

If Wilbur could see his ghost counterpart, he feels like he would have seen friendly waving as Ghostbur spoke, “Bye Ranboo!” Ghostbur gasped in realization, “Oh, he’s probably coming back with Tommy!” Wilbur ignored the second comment.

“Hey hey, Mikey.” Tubbo said, walking into Michael’s line of sight, “Dad’s doing fine, and there’s nothing interesting over there. Uncle Wilbur is right here.”

At the words, Wilbur froze on the spot, almost enough for his hand to slip out of the toddler’s. He let out a disbelieving soft breath. “Uncle?” he said, chuckling lightly, almost as if he was mocking the title, but if someone glanced at him for too long, something genuine would probably show.

“Oooh,” Tubbo giggled a little, “We’ve been calling you that to Michael, just because it felt right, you know? It’s easier for him to understand that way.” he looked at Wilbur, “Do you mind it?”

“I mean, I guess not.” Wilbur looked at Michael, “I would make a very cool uncle.” He felt something in his chest when he said that. It wasn’t the typical regret, but rather a warmness that he welcomed eagerly.

Tubbo scoffed, “You mean the creepy uncle everyone has?”

Ghostbur seemed confused, “Wait, do I have a creepy uncle? I don’t think I’ve ever met him.” Ghostbur’s saddened tone almost made Wilbur laugh.

Wilbur lightly shoved Tubbo, moments from his and Tommy’s interaction flooded his mind, but he pushed them away. “You mean the cool uncle that plans on giving Michael so many presents.” His voice transitioned into a warmer, slightly higher pitch near the end as he gave Michael’s hand a little squeeze. Michael jumped up at that, excitement filling his eyes.

Endearment found its way into Wilbur’s voice, “What kind of stuff does he like?”

Tubbo laughed quietly, “Literally anything yellow. Prime, he goes crazy for anything that’s yellow and metallic.”

“Oh yeah, it probably reminds him of gold right?”

“Yeah- well at least that’s what we think.” Tubbo thought for a moment, “He likes golden carrots or golden apples. But aside from stuff that’s yellow, he really likes books.”

“He also likes doing stories too! What’s the word called…” Ghostbur mumbled some things before snapping his fingers, “Roleplaying! Michael loved pretending he was a dinosaur. Sometimes I was the dinosaur though. It depended on the day.” Wilbur enjoyed the thought of little Michael roaring and trying to be threatening. Perhaps he’d roleplay with Michael one day.

Wilbur found himself releasing a quick noise, that might’ve been amusement, and might’ve been recognized. “Really?” he said. He thought of declarations and nations. He thought of signatures and speeches, and vaguely, somewhere in his mind, where Ghostbur’s memories lurked, he thought of history books, and yearning to understand the world. He thought of writing and observing, and feeling more and more accomplished with each stroke of the pen. “The little man has good taste,” Wilbur said, grinning at the child, who looked up with glee.

“Takes it after his father.” Wilbur didn’t bother asking which one- the twinkle in Tubbo’s eyes already told him.

Tubbo seemed happy. It wasn’t new of course, Tubbo always had quite a positive demeanor, though there was something different about this happiness. His back was less straightened. While he lacked the suit Wilbur had given him, the clothes he wore seemed to fit him even better, the more Wilbur looked. The two of them walked, and Wilbur occasionally glanced at the boy, who was still young despite everything.

Who was married and had a child. Married to someone, who appeared to have little to no idea what he believed in. But Tubbo was happy.

“I was a bit worried about Michael when the egg stuff started happening.” Tubbo said, “He isn’t quite as crazy about red, but he sure is fond of it.” he said with a warm chuckle.

Wilbur nodded but paused in the middle of it, his face scrunching up confusedly. “I’m sorry, did you say egg? What egg?”

“Oh, Tubbo likes cooking! Maybe he was making some breakfast earlier?” Wilbur almost felt jealous about Ghostbur’s ability to feel satisfied with his own answers.

“Oh!” Tubbo said, realization spreading across his face, “Shit, you really did miss a beat huh. It was this uh, it’s kind of hard to explain.” he laughed awkwardly, “To be honest, I don’t even think I ever learned what was going on with that.”

“Is it still a problem?” Although it had been implied that not many wars happened without him, images of a new government called “The Egg” flooded his mind. He gripped Michael’s hand a little tighter, but realized it immediately and loosened it. Michael took it as a friendly squeeze and squeezed back. Although Michael was trying his hardest to squeeze, the zombie piglin wasn’t very strong so it came off as reassuring cuteness rather than a hurtful action.

“I don’t think so,” Tubbo thought for a moment. “It uh… I think it controlled people? It’s still sort of messy in my head. I just remember heading down there with Tommy once and… feeling different afterward.”

“What do you mean by different?” Their lighthearted conversation shifted towards Wilbur worrying about this thing that apparently controlled people. Was Tubbo still controlled? The air seemed to grow tense between them.

“I don’t remember any of it myself. Apparently, I was crying and not leaving the egg. If I try really hard I can remember for a bit, but it’s too much stress for too little reward.” Tubbo shrugged it off, “I think it’s mostly handled though.”

Although most of his worries were dealt with, a question lingered in his mind. “Is Tommy alright?” The words were quieter compared to his earlier ones, but not by much. Just enough for Wilbur to notice.

“Yeah! Well- from the egg he’s seemed alright. Right now, I don’t think he’s doing too swell.” Tubbo looked over at a random bush. Wilbur understood the cloudiness of the boy’s mind.

“He seems the same to me.” Sure, the child was quite rude to him, and frequently dismissed him, but Wilbur figured it was from him being a teenager and trying to explore his boundaries of freedom.

Tubbo hummed in acknowledgment, “Maybe it’s just me then. But-” Tubbo cut himself off with a sigh, “Part of me says it’s the Ghostbur stuff getting to him.”

“Wait, what does he mean? I thought you said they couldn’t hear me like you could?” Ghostbur’s confusion collided with the warmness that came across Wilbur’s head.

Not a good warmness, but one that invaded the mind and makes your thoughts mixed together. He quickly stated, “I mean he was only here for six months at most. I’m still him in a way.” Wilbur thought he heard a hurt sound from Ghostbur, but he reasoned with himself that Ghostbur probably didn’t know what they were talking about.

Hesitance showed through Tubbo’s expression. He pursed his lips, “I mean- yeah I guess so. It's mainly... seeing him 'die' in front of him thing, most of it being Tommy's plan as well. It doesn't help that it was him who did it.” Tubbo met Wilbur’s gaze at the end, although the need for approval still shined in his eyes.

Although pity hummed in the back of his mind, most of it from Ghostbur, curiosity consumed his thoughts, “Who’s him?”

Ghostbur whined in his mind, mumbling something he couldn’t quite pick up. Tubbo inhaled deeply. He breathed out, “Dream.” Ghostbur’s breath hitched at the mention.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, partially at Ghostbur’s reaction and partially at what Ghostbur was reacting to. How much more was the ghost not telling Wilbur? How many more details of his life did he not know? Wilbur couldn’t think of a response, so he simply responded with a hum of acknowledgment.

Tubbo gladly continued, “I… I just feel really bad for him. I somehow feel bad for saying I wish I could take some of it off of him.” Tubbo let out a somber laugh near the end.

“Yeah, the wars were pretty stressful, to say the least.” An odd chuckle left Wilbur. It wasn’t one that he meant to do, but one that came in because it seemed to fit best.

Tubbo sighed, “No I mean the- I don't even know all the details. I've just heard that Dream did something to Tommy while he was in exile. Then the whole beating him to death thing…” Tubbo’s silence spoke for both of them. “I'm glad the guy is in prison, but at the same time, I feel like he deserves worse. Y'know?” Tubbo held a hand over his mouth with embarrassment, “I mean, I don’t want to sound like a bad person when I say that. Spending the rest of your life in prison sucks- of course it does! It’s just the fact that he’s ruined so many people’s lives.” Tubbo’s quiet voice contradicted Wilbur’s loud thoughts.

While vague memories from some exile Wilbur barely remembered briefly entered his mind, the loudest thought ran with the words ‘beating him to death,’ but he shouldn’t have been surprised. He saw Tommy in limbo. He played cards and joked with him for months. Yet, he never wanted as tragic of a death for the poor kid. Perhaps a gunshot or a high fall to make it quick and painful instead of the agony he went through. During his first few years in limbo, he got more phantom stabs in his abdomen than he could count with all the hands he’d ever seen.

Tubbo squinted concerningly at Wilbur’s silence, “I’m guessing he didn’t tell you… sorry.”

Wilbur closed his eyes for a moment, “No no, it’s alright. I’m just processing it… it’s a lot to take in.”

Tubbo awkwardly laughed, “Yep.” The air felt constricting to Wilbur, but Tubbo seemed to be breathing fine to him. Perhaps it was the punch Tommy gave him earlier. Finally giving him the understanding it couldn’t before.

Wilbur couldn’t stand the silence, so he focused his attention on his first thought. Michael. “So what’s the thing around Michael’s chest?” Some kind of red thing was around Michael’s chest. It looked like a vest, but it clashed horribly with his outfit.

“Oh! It’s a… please don’t call us bad parents, it’s a harness for kids that tend to run a lot.” Tubbo avoided Wilbur’s gaze sheepishly.

Wilbur managed to laugh at the situation. Yet, he would never know if he was laughing for Tubbo’s comfort or genuine happiness. He could hear that it sounded drier than it usually would. “A leash? I’ve never seen a leash designed for children.” A small smile found its way onto Wilbur’s face.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, “Ranboo was the one to originally offer the idea. Apparently it was something designed by the Americans. But I do have to admit.” Tubbo looked at Michael with a sense of confused astonishment, “It’s been working pretty well so far. Michael likes taking walks, and we like him not running into a ravine. Plus, he’s not really used to the overworld yet.” When Michael heard his name, he let go of Wilbur’s hand and ran in front of his father, doing ‘grabby’ hands up towards the air.

Tubbo chuckled, “Alright, M.” Tubbo lifted Michael up, the toddler squealing along the way. Tubbo hugged his son, and looked back to Wilbur. “We even made the harness thingy red so he would be a little happier with his temporary prison.” Wilbur's eyes went to the harness that was connected to a red rope that he saw Ranboo holding earlier.

Wilbur nodded, “Makes sense.” His gaze drifted towards the direction Ranboo ran off in. “When’s Ranboo gonna be back?”

Tubbo thought for a moment, “I would think soon, but we could check on him.” He gave Wilbur an apologetic glance, “He gets a bit indecisive at times.” Wilbur barely resisted rolling his eyes.

“Lead the way, Tubster.”

#dream smp #dsmp #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #ghostbur #revivedbur #alivebur #tubbo #c!tubbo #ranboo #c!ranboo #michael_beloved #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #The Revived

7 notes · View notes

pandoraborn · 3 years

Text

THROW ME TO THE GROUND (and watch me fly)

Chapter two (Part one on AO3) word count: 3566 words Characters: Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot, Niki Nihachu, JSchlatt Content: mention of depression

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It feels like an ordinary, stupid day. Tommy’s phone alarm goes off, and he wants to hit snooze so he can go back to sleep. When he reaches out to hit the button, he sees what time it is.

It’s almost eleven in the morning.

With a loud groan, he flings his phone across the room and places his pillow above his head. If he can shut out the day, it won’t happen and he can go back to sleep. For a second, he even forgets why he’s in a bad mood until he hears a knock at his door, followed by Phil telling him to get up. Tommy lays there until he’s sure Phil’s gone back downstairs before he finally drags himself out of bed. The reality of today settles in, and as he kicks the blanket off his feet, he can feel the foul mood settle over him like a mini storm over him and him alone.

It’s been like this for a few days, since the election results. Tommy knows he can’t keep moping over the loss, but he can’t pull himself out of his funk either. No one’s confronted him about it either; it’s like they know he’s miserable and sad, and they’re letting him be sad about it. He half wishes someone would snap him out of it so he can move on, but he’s also glad for the space. The chance to really process his emotions is therapeutic in its own way.

It’s not like it’s easy to turn depression off anyway.

Stumbling for his dresser, he grabs a change of clothes before walking toward the bathroom. It’s unused right now, which he’s grateful for. He can’t tell if his brothers are home or gone, but it doesn’t matter, the bathroom is all his. He closes and locks the door behind him, turns up the shower radio, and proceeds to spend the next hour cleaning himself up. For this hour, he can forget about the outside world as he belts along to a few depressing songs. When he’s done, he turns the radio off and lets himself shiver in the chill air for a moment before putting his clothes on. It’s harder when his wings are still wet, but he manages, finally.

It isn’t until he gets out of the bathroom that Tommy has the sense that something about today is going to be different. He doesn’t know what that means, but he can’t shake the feeling. Maybe it’s the fact that Wilbur isn’t pounding on the door begging to be let in. Maybe it’s the fact he can’t hear Techno yelling from downstairs about something or other.

Come to think of it, he can’t hear Phil anymore either.

He makes his way downstairs, wings dragging on the ground behind him. The house feels eerily empty, which isn’t helping his mood any. At least there’s leftover snacks in the kitchen that he can eat, but Tommy isn’t all that hungry anymore. The food itself doesn’t even look that appetizing, mostly some sandwiches. By the looks of it, there’s only a couple remaining.

He forces himself to eat what’s left. He checks his comms as well, looking for any messages. Other than random public messages that don’t interest him, he doesn’t have any private messages to read through either. There’s no note in the kitchen to tell him where the rest of his family’s gone. He doesn’t feel like searching anywhere else for some note, either. As far as he’s concerned, everyone’s just left him alone for whatever reason. The silence isn’t helping his mood, and Tommy finds himself wondering if he can get away with going back to bed.

Probably not, as he’s already showered and dressed for the day. He might as well go outside and let the outside world know he’s still alive. There’s also the fact that he still can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Well, not wrong, but that something is different about today. Everything feels slightly to the left and sideways, if that makes any sense. His brain agrees with his logic, so naturally, it must be true. He nods absently at his brain.

There’s only half a sandwich left, so Tommy pushes the plate away. He’s done eating, and he’s not bothered with dealing with the food. In his mind, Phil’s the one who left it out to begin with, so it can be Phil’s problem later. Tommy turns away from the kitchen, pocketing his communicator and exits the house, locking the door behind him.

L’Manburg is already bustling with life. Neighbors are out and socializing, the streets are busy, and shops are crowded. Already it feels too noisy for Tommy, and he takes a step back, regretting coming outside. He doesn’t want to deal with so many people, he knows that anyone he runs into is going to shoot him looks of pity, or offer their condolences, and the mere thought is enough to give him a headache.

He’s about to turn right back around when a distant voice calls his name.

Blinking, he raises a hand to shield his eyes against the sun to see who’s calling for him. In the distance, he can see Wilbur flying toward him. Next to Wilbur is Niki, who’s running in an attempt to keep up with Wilbur. The sight would be hilarious if Tommy wasn’t already in a bad mood. He doesn’t want to deal with either of them, but he remains in place, making some attempt to pick his wings up.

“Tommy!” Wilbur looks far too excited for Tommy. Scowling, he crosses his arms and waits for Wilbur to land on the ground. “Tommy, I tried to get a hold of you.”

“Liar,” Tommy scoffs. He pulls out his communicator and wiggles it with a raised eyebrow. “I have zero messages, Wil. Are you sure it was me you were reaching out to?”

“Oh, I thought he messaged you,” Niki cuts in. She looks out of breath, doubled over with her hands on her knees. She, too, is wearing a smile on her face and looking far too excited to be legal. “We were wanting to get ahold of you earlier, but Phil mentioned you were sleeping over the comms.”

“Do I look like I’m sleeping now?” Tommy scrunches his face up. No longer does he feel depressed, now he’s simply irritated. “Because I’ve been up and showered for…” He pauses to check the time. “Just over an hour now. You had plenty of time to reach out to me, and it would have saved you both the trouble of running all the way back here just for me.”

“Okay, maybe I forgot to message you in my excitement, but I’ve got news for you.” Wilbur stretches his wings out to shake them out, before folding them back. “You’ll love this.”

“He’s got big news,” Niki adds, not at all helpfully. Tommy wants to cover her mouth with duct tape. He doesn’t even know why she’s here; isn’t she supposed to be working at the white house? He can’t imagine there being much free time; it’d been hard enough with him and Wilbur in charge.

“Are you both going to keep me in suspense, or have you come here just to rub shit in my face? Because I have important things to do today.” He leans back when Wilbur moves closer, still looking obnoxious. Tommy has never wanted to punch his brother more than he does now.

Wilbur rolls his eyes as he grabs at Tommy and spins him around. Tommy sputters, trying to pull away from Wilbur, though without much success. The man has an iron grip when he wants to. “What the hell, man? What are you doing? Don’t touch me.”

“I’m making sure you look presentable, Tommy.” Wilbur picks at his clothes, humming to himself. “You have a big meeting coming up today. Sooner, rather than later.”

Tommy swats Wilbur’s hand away in another attempt to put distance between them. “What are you on about, Wilbur? Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on? Stop touching me, my clothes are fine!”

“I can’t just tell you, because you won’t believe me. Here’s what I need you to do though. Are you listening to me?” Wilbur finally pulls back, giving Tommy the desired space. He crosses his own arms and peers down at Tommy.

Tommy makes a big show of rolling his eyes, it includes rolling his head as well. “I have no choice but to listen to you, big man. You’re keeping me pinned down in our front lawn, and I’ve barely started my own day. Where is everyone, anyway? Why have they all left?”

“Oh, I don’t know where Techno went. I think he went somewhere with Skeppy and Bad, and Phil was with- this is all beside the point, Tommy. Okay, listen. This is a big day for us. For you. I need you to pick your wings up, put a smile on your face, and fly on over to the white house. I’ve arranged a meeting between you and Schlatt.”

Tommy scowls. He doesn’t like how any of this sounds, he especially doesn’t want to talk to the president. Tommy can’t keep being happy for the man, no matter how close he is to the family, just because he won an election fair and square. Tommy still hates the idea of the election to begin with. He feels like he’d lost everything because of it.

“I don’t want to talk to Schlatt,” Tommy mutters. “You can stop trying to force me to be happy, because I don’t want to be.” He turns around, deciding to head back inside. He’s blocked by one of Wilbur’s wings, so Tommy just grabs at bone, trying to push the wing out of the way. The gold seems especially brighter this time around, and even though Tommy knows it’s the sun glinting off of the feathers, it’s still irritatingly Wilbur, which means the man is going to go all soft on him.

“Tommy.”

There it is. That gentle, comforting ‘I’m about to cheer you up’ voice that Tommy melts at every time. With a sigh, Tommy slumps forward, letting Wilbur’s wing go as he turns to face his brother.

“Tommy, I know this hit you harder than most people realize.” Wilbur’s wearing a smile that’s just as bright as his wings. Tommy can feel himself tearing up just at the sight. Not because Wilbur is there, but because Wilbur’s digging at wounds he wants closed. “I know this hurts you. I can see it in your eyes, it’s the way you slouch when you walk. It’s the way you don’t sleep much at night. I know you’re depressed. I know better than anyone how much you’re hurting, which is why I’ve talked to Schlatt to begin with.”

“Don’t, Wilbur.” Tommy tries to pull back, but he bumps into Niki. She has to know too. He realizes that’s why she’s here, is to offer comfort of her own. He’s torn between pulling away from both of them, and seeking out comfort he wouldn’t normally get. “Don’t try to cheer me up, okay? We lost, and I’m okay with that.”

“It’s okay Tommy,” Niki says. Her own voice matches Wilbur’s, and now Tommy’s cringing. He wants to plug his ears and not listen to this. “You’re allowed to feel things, you’re allowed to be sad. Your brother just wants to help, you don’t have to feel obligated to listen to him.” She reaches out a hand, as if to offer physical comfort, but after Wilbur’s manhandling, Tommy pulls back.

“Don’t touch me, just...stop. Wilbur, stop. You don’t have to do anything for me, alright? I’m a big man, I can handle myself just fine.”

“You might think you’re okay, but we all can tell you’re not,” Wilbur says. He’s no longer sounding so gentle. It’s still there, but it’s now laced with a firmness that Tommy only hears when Wilbur is annoyed. “You’re going to this meeting, alright? I don’t even know what Schlatt has planned, I just wanted him to help you feel better. Let’s go. Pick your wings up and fly with me.”

“What about me?” Niki asks. She frowns at Wilbur. “You can’t leave me behind.”

“I’ll carry you, of course.” Wilbur snorts. “I told you to stay behind in the first place, it was your choice to chase after me.” He playfully pushes her before reaching out to grab at one of Tommy’s wings. “Let’s go big man.”

Tommy swats at Wilbur’s hand again before taking the initiative to spread his own wings out, letting the sun hit the blues and whites just right. “Fine,” he agrees. “Lead the way, Wilbur.”

Wilbur wraps his arms around Niki and flaps his wings, hoisting himself up off the ground. He hovers in the air, watching as Tommy follows suit. It’d been a few days since Tommy had flown, so he feels rusty, but he’s lifting himself up after Wilbur. It takes another few flaps before he can stay in the air.

“You got it?” Wilbur’s watching him with another expression of concern. Tommy shrugs before lifting himself higher, feeling more confident in the air.

“Yeah, lead the way.” He motions Wilbur ahead. Wilbur turns, adjusting Niki in his arms, and soars off, rising higher into the air. Tommy exhales when the wind hits his face, relishing the feeling of being in the air again. He’d forgotten how nice it feels to just fly, and for a brief moment, he feels all the uneasiness and sadness melt away. He even manages a genuine smile when he sees Wilbur doing flips in the air, just to watch him. Niki’s even waving at him.

He can’t remember why he’d been so down to begin with. Or rather, he wants to forget being in a bad mood. When they finally land in front of the white house, everything settles back in like a heavy blanket, and he feels negativity washing across him again. Wings drooping, he considers planting himself down right here, but Wilbur is grabbing his arm anyway.

“Come on Tommy, don’t be like this. You were fine a second ago. Call that feeling back, yeah?” He’s still smiling, so Tommy leans against him for comfort. He expects Wilbur to push him away, but instead, Wilbur is wrapping an arm around him and guiding him inside. “I’m here, I’ll stick by you the whole time, okay? It’s just Schlatt, so we’ll be okay.”

They make their way up to Schlatt’s office. Tommy keeps his head ducked the whole time, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone else who works here. Office worker, cabinet members and...

“Tommy!” Schlatt’s booming, cheerful voice cuts through his thoughts. Startled, Tommy reels back. Schlatt is walking toward them, already gesturing toward his office. “Tommy, just the man I wanted to see!”

Even Schlatt is wearing a bright smile. It’s hard for Tommy to be depressed when even Schlatt is radiating warmth. Why does everyone have to be so nice to him? He knows he’d been that obvious, but he doesn’t know why today of all days, everyone is treating him so nicely.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Tommy asks. Schlatt places a hand on Tommy’s back, right between his wings and pushes him into the office. “What are all of you up to, what sort of meeting is this?”

“Tommy, Wilbur was telling me you’ve been depressed,” Schlatt continues. He sits in his chair, gesturing for Tommy to sit down on the sofa along the wall. “Please, have a seat.”

Tommy looks around before sitting down. It’s just him and Wilbur in the office; Niki had disappeared somewhere, probably to go back to work. Wilbur’s shutting the office door, so Tommy resigns himself to following orders. He folds his wings carefully and sits carefully on the edge of the couch, resting his hands in his lap.

“Tommy, Wilbur was telling me you’ve been sad,” Schlatt repeats. “So I have an offer for you. I haven’t even told Wilbur this, but I’ve been contemplating something for a few days anyway.”

“What, you’re going to hold a parade in my honor?” Tommy scoffs, briefly making eye contact with the president. He looks back down, not able to hold it for long. Schlatt is still staring at him; Tommy can feel the stare boring a hole through his skull and it’s making him uncomfortable.

“I ran by myself, Tommy. I don’t have a second in command.”

Schlatt really doesn’t beat around the bush. The news is significant somehow, but Tommy’s cold. He’s not sure why he’s cold, but it’s as if the heat had been sucked out of the office all at once, leaving him shivering. He has a brief flashback to when he’d stood shivering after his shower. At the time, he didn’t know why he chose to be cold, but now everything is starting to feel important. Everything is flipping sideways and left all over again, and in confusion, he stares back up at Schlatt.

“What?”

He hates that his voice is small and uncertain. But he can’t raise the volume, he can’t bring himself to move. Hell, he’s struggling to breathe. “What are-”

“Breathe, Tommy.” Wilbur’s rubbing his back, pressing his knuckles right in between his shoulder blades and working his way up. “Tommy, you need to relax.”

“Tommy, listen.” Schlatt lifts himself from the chair and perches on his desk instead. “I know this probably should go to Wilbur, but I was there with you both when you built this country. I know how much work and sacrifice you both went through to make it what it is today. What Tommy sacrificed to Dream.”

“We’re cool with Dream I think,” Tommy whispers. He’s trembling. “Schlatt I don’t… I’m not…”

“Tommy, I’m asking you to be my vice president. My second in command. No one knows this country better than you do, no one else loves this country more than you.”

He blinks back tears. “But… Wilbur…?”

Wilbur shakes his head. “I had my run. I had my run for months, and it was great. But I lost the election, Tommy. It’d be really awful for Schlatt to up and make me vice president. You get a pass because you weren’t running for president, and he’s well within his rights to choose someone who would help him.”

The urge to say ‘no’ is strong. He wants to spread his wings and jump out the nearest window, to get away from this. It’s pity, that’s what it is. Schlatt is only offering this because they all want Tommy to stop moping in his bedroom. Tommy wants to stop moping in his bedroom, and he doesn’t know how else to turn it off.

What would be the harm, anyway? Who is it hurting if he accepted the position? Quackity would support him, Niki would be ecstatic, everyone would support him.

And Tommy?

Tommy would be elated to have some semblance of control over this country. Slowly, he gets to his feet, still feeling numb. Half of his mind is screaming no, the other half is screaming yes. To be vice president would mean everything though, he’d be an idiot to refuse.

“Yes,” Tommy finally says. His voice cracks on the single utterance, but the grin is reappearing on his face. Schlatt’s grin is bigger now as he offers a hand for Tommy to shake.

“Glad to have you aboard Tommy. We’ll make a formal announcement soon to let everyone know.”

“I promise I’ll…” he trails off, trying to find the right words to say. What does a vice president even say? It’s time to sound professional now, and he even straightens his posture, letting his wings spread. He’s too caught up in the moment to notice the way Schlatt is staring at his wings.

“I promise I’ll help maintain this country’s dignity,” he finally says. “I do my best to...um. To… to uphold all the values we established.” He glances sideways at Wilbur, who beams.

“Very fitting words Tomathy. I’ve taught you well.” Wilbur ruffles Tommy’s hair before pulling back. “I’m so proud of you. Both of you; my best friend and my little brother, running the country together. You’ll make me so proud.”

“Yeah?” Tommy giggles. Neither of them notice the frozen smile on Schlatt’s face, or the way his eyes are wide, or the way he’s clenching one hand into a fist.

Or the way he’s still staring at their wings.

When Tommy turns back to him, Schlatt instantly warms again, patting Tommy on the shoulder. “Right, Mr. Vice president. I’ll expect to see you at work soon. Better come prepared and dressed for the job, right?”

“Of course.” Tommy feels so much better than he’s felt in days. “I won’t let you down.”

“Go on, get out of here. You and Wilbur can go celebrate. I have things to tend to here. I’ll see you in a day or two though, ready to work.”

Tommy and Wilbur wave goodbye as they leave the office. The teen feels lighter all over again, and this time when he walks, his wings don’t drag on the ground. He may be sixteen years olds, but he’d been saddled with a very important position, and he’s not about to let his country down.

13 notes · View notes