#screaming DO YOU STILL BELIEVE IN LOVE I WONDER at the kettle because everything is AWFUL but guess what

[lancewiththeantlers]

yes existing is hell but there are folk metal covers of pop songs to play on loop and gay demons to write about while I do that so maybe I can survive the morning actually

#average lance behaviour #blasting Hey Brother by D'Artagnan #is my life crumbling around me yes very possibly but there's nobody but the hounds in the house and I can yell WHAT IF I LOSE IT ALL #screaming DO YOU STILL BELIEVE IN LOVE I WONDER at the kettle because everything is AWFUL but guess what #there's tea to brew and Per Aspera to write #you know when you're SO sad and hear a song and suddenly you are actively in the mindset of your character who is striding out to #defend all he loves against an enemy far more powerful than himself and he WILL meet his fate head on because despite the certainty that he #will fall and fuck knows if it'll buy his husband and child enough time but THERE IS NOTHING IN THIS WORLD HE WOULDN'T DOOOOO -BAGPIPE SOLO #I'M IN SUCH AN INTENSE MOOD THIS MORNING NOBODY LOOK AT ME I am FINALLY writing this FUCKING THING OH MY FUCKING GOD #per aspera shitposting

[writefightandflightclub]

A little burnt(out): Moon Boys (Steven Grant + Marc Spector) x fem!reader

Summary: you are feeling a little bit “useless”, and your Moon Boys are there to prove to you that’s categorically not true.

Genre: hurt/comfort with emphasis on the comfort - predominantly fluffy.

Rating: teen (but my blog is 18+ / minors DNI)

Author’s note: this is self-indulgent and I’m not even sure it counts as a fic per se, but I’m sharing as there’s a chance someone may enjoy it! This fic is a riff off of (recent/current) personal experiences with what I believe is autistic* burnout, but it’s kept quite general so might be suitable for anyone who is experiencing a whole range of things with similar symptoms (to oversimplify - fatigue, overwhelm etc. etc.). For obvious reasons, I chose the Moon Boys for this one! Written super quickly on my lunch break so don’t expect too much lol!

*that’s a whole other very long story as someone who is trying to get a late diagnosis in my thirties but anyway…

Warnings: maybe read the a/n to get a sense of the themes this tackles and see if it’s for you? Thx!

Gif: by @jenwallters

You had even failed to make coffee.

How?!

The thing you do on autopilot several times a day.

Well… Somehow, you had.

There is oat milk languishing in the microwave.

A boiled kettle which is now cooling, and three empty mugs sat on top of the kitchen counter.

“Er. Are you alright, love?” Steven probes gently, evidently seeing your failed attempt at making coffee for him and you and Marc (he likes it differently to Steven) as he emerges from the bathroom.

You simply pull the duvet more securely over your sarcastic, throbbing head. “Yeah. Clearly.” You ball your fists up and dig them into your eye sockets, scrubbing away the embarrassment of bubbling tears suddenly crowding your eyeballs.

Still, as much as you hate yourself for being unable to function the way you generally can, you have to admit it feels sort of nice to hide under here, in the dark and the quiet. To leave the demands -however small- behind. To be honest with yourself, and listen to your body. For once.

You ignore your body far too often. Shush what it’s trying to tell you - until it’s too late. Until your body has to scream or snap to make itself heard. Too much. Too loud. Too tired. Too long.

You can do plenty. And because you can do it, you often ignore the toll it’s taking on you, particularly when the outputs exceed your inputs. When your life isn’t set-up in the best way to make sure you can function sustainably. For the long-haul. Instead of this boom and bust cycle you seem to have found yourself trapped in, each “bust” growing harder and harder to drag yourself out of.

You refuse to listen to your body, but it always catches you up eventually - and this time, it feels harder than ever to spring back from.

Progress is slow. Whatever “progress” means anyway - an endless pursuit for more, better, faster, and perhaps you’re tiring of that. Perhaps you want things to be slow and light and easy. Soft.

Truly, lying here is just about all your body has the energy for today, even if -in contrast- your mind is racing, as per usual. Urging you to do everything.

You hear Steven sigh, and eventually, you hear the wobble of the heating kettle and tinkle of the tea spoon as he kindly finishes your task for you.

Next, you feel his weight gently dip the mattress next to you, those hefty cheeks making quite the impression. “Coffee, love,” Steven offers, in an attempt to coax you out from your duvet den. “Come and get it while it’s hot, yeah?”

You sigh, but not at him. Only because you’re fed up with yourself. At how long it’s taking to recover. So long, that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to operate like you used to. At the same time, operating like you used to fills you with a sort of dread, as you know that was precisely the problem. That it was precisely what pushed you too far in the first place.

“Come and get these lips while they’re hot, Marc says,” Steven relays on his behalf. “Got a big fat kiss waiting for you, yeah?”

Alright. Well you can’t resist that, now can you?

You abruptly shove the covers down with your forearms, squinting against the assault of the gentle light. Even these subdued sensations prove too much with your currently reduced threshold of tolerance, apparently. Regardless, you allow your grumpy face to pop into view.

Despite your grumpiness, though, Steven looks endlessly happy to see you, a soft, angelic smile lilting over his mouth. He dips to kiss your grumpy mouth, the tender, lingering press of his lips dissolving the frown from off your face like sugar stirred into sweet tea. “Morning, my goddess.”

“Pfft,” you protest, as if you could possibly be anyone’s “goddess”. Goddesses don’t cry so much in the shower, do they? Don’t have a meltdowns over report deadlines? Right? “Can’t even make a cup of coffee right anymore.”

Even so, you can’t help but notice that Steven is gazing at you like you hung the stars.

Steven’s eyebrows rise up, his expression still soft and open. Free of judgement. “That’s alright. Got your ol’ boyfriend to do it for you, ain’t you?”

Despite his sunshine -or perhaps because of his disarming brightness - your eyes close tiredly. You feel drained already, even though you’ve just woken up. Even though you’d tried to get an early night last night. Even though you’d already pruned your schedule to within an inch of its life to try and aid your recovery. “I’m just tired, Steven. Really tired.”

You feel a mess of scribbles suddenly animate in the pit of your stomach.

Full of calm, Steven sets the steaming mug down on the coaster to your side, and he reaches to tuck the duvet more closely around your chest, making you all comfy-cosy.

Still, the light frown which settles on his brow shows that he knows. That he understands. Knows you don’t mean that you need sleep. That your tiredness goes deeper than that. He’s been in that place before, after all. Has plenty to say about that.

Steven doesn’t respond in words, though. Instead, he settles his warm hand on top of yours and he nods slowly, demonstrating he’s hearing you. Validating you. That he accepts that when you say you are tired, that’s the truth. It sounds simple enough, but you’ve had an unfortunate pattern of people dismissing you throughout your life. Dismissing your challenges and struggles whenever you have spoken up, which has made it harder to trust now that your assertions will be taken at face value.

The truth is though, that by the time you actually express that you can’t continue, you’ve likely already pushed yourself far beyond your ideal limit. That it has been some time since you found yourself unable to continue, but that you “stubborned” your way through it anyway.

Steven and Marc and Jake understand. They have shown, through their words and actions, that they believe what you tell them - and after a lifetime of being sidelined, that’s no small thing.

You watch his expression shift as his eyebrows knot and travel up, his eyes shining with concern. His whole being a picture of receptiveness. Eager to listen. Promising to hear you.

You are grateful.

That openness provides you the space to say it. “I want to be better, Steven. It’s just… taking so long. I don’t even know when the last time I had energy was. Like, proper energy. I’m talking enough energy. Even tiny things seem so overwhelming. And… I can’t… I don’t think I can do it anymore. I can’t keep up.”

It’s true. Even the most basic of routines feels too much for you right now. And meanwhile, all your usual tasks and responsibilities have been piling up. So many deadlines looming. An ever expanding “to do” list. But, try as you might, you simply can’t manage to pull it back. It seems the harder you try the further you dig yourself down into this pit. The more depleted you feel. The less you are able to do the more you try to scrabble your way out of it.

You’ve tried, but you’ve been so overloaded and overwhelmed for so long that all your resources are just… gone. Right now, it knocks you into the red just to perform basic tasks, and you feel like you’ll never be in credit with your energy again.

You’re trying to go easy on yourself and allow yourself the space to recover - Steven and Marc and Jake have been supportive every step of the way too - but this coffee? That was the final straw. One of many final straws, it seems, as you keep finding yourself surprised by how many straws there are left to draw. An abundance of straws appearing from nowhere when you least expect them. How it keeps getting a bit worse without getting better.

Meanwhile, everything else is there waiting for you. Expecting you to carry on as “normal”. Your job, friends, family. You’ve told them. You’ve said, I can’t keep doing this. But they see you keep going anyway, and assume you’re fine.

Well, sometimes that is normal for you. To go go go a mile a minute. But, you are trying to accept that this is also a part of your normal too. Sometimes you can go full pelt, and sometimes… you can’t. It’s like… every activity has a cost, but unfortunately the price tags remain hidden from you. That is, until your bill hits the mat with a thud, and then suddenly you’re expected to pay up all at once. What’s more, you can never quite predict when that day is going to come.

Your boyfriends are different though, and for that, you are grateful. They know your experience is real and valid, and they acknowledge what you need. Even if you can’t always do that yourself - after so many years of masking and pushing aside your own needs until you couldn’t even recognise them.

“It’s okay,” Steven soothes, and you take a moment to admire the specific shapes the coils of his hair are making today - everyday a new delight. You’re trying to mindful of all the little things which replenish you. There is something to cling on to. “S’alright if you can’t do it for now, love. I mean… It’s okay if you can never do it again, to be fair.”

Your eyes brim with sorry tears. “I feel useless.”

Steven looks positively affronted on your behalf. He doesn’t like it when you’re unkind to yourself. You know it breaks his heart, but you can’t help it. He clamps both his hands around yours now, squeezing tight. “Aww. Come on. Look. You’re definitely not.” He brushes your face tenderly with the crook of his finger, and you know you must still look sceptical. Steven tries again, a truly valiant effort. “Anyway, you don’t even need to have a use, sweetheart. You’re a human being, not a bloody JML gadget.” Steven laughs lightly at his own attempt at kitchen-appliance-themed humour, and you manage a watery smile, at least.

“Steven…”

You shake your head, about to protest further, but he is having none of it. “How about you drink your coffee, darling, and we make it nice and dark and quiet in here, yeah?”

That does sound nice. Sounds like what you need so desperately. Still, it’s hard to allow yourself to rest. To say no to things. “We’re not going to do anything today? We need to do a food shop and I told Max I would help her with the-“

“Ssshhh,” Steven soothes. “Forget all that, yeah?”

He stands and efficiently flips the blinds. Dims the lights, before returning to you.

You take a deep breath, basking in the relief of having fewer things on your plate. Steven, for his part, scoops up the warm squashy covers and wriggles in beside you, fitting his body around yours - securely, like a big spoon.

You feel his next words warmly against the back of your neck. “You’re a human being not a human doing. Remember, love?”

You can’t help but scoff fondly at that. “Christ. You’re so cheesy, Steven.” Still, you wiggle yourself closer to him, and settle your arms on top of his where they loop around your middle.

“Maybe. But I make a mean coffee though.”

You snicker at that. “No. No, your coffee is sweet, Steven. I doubt you could make a mean thing even if you tried.”

He exhales a gentle laugh into your skin, and you feel and hear the soft wet smack as he plants a gentle kiss right behind your ear.

“What about those biscuits I made last week? They were pretty bloody offensive, weren’t they?”

You laugh. “A little burnt,” you admit, smoothing your hand over his.

You breathe in deeply, remembering. You hold your breath for a moment before you let it go, and when you do you feel a modicum of the tension eke away from your body. Steven simply nuzzles happily against you, seeming perfectly content with just this.

Today, this is all that matters.

You simply get to be.

No rushing. No expectations.

Only rest.

And that is more than enough.

You feel a little better already. More able to cope with the day, even as your eyes wander to the scene of your prior failure, Marc’s mug still steaming on the counter.

Wait.

Actually…

“Oh. Shit. Tell Marc not to drink his coffee would you, honey?”

“Too late,” Marc’s voice sounds against your neck, startling you just a tad. “I already tried it.”

Yikes.

You swivel on to your back to greet him and he remains on his side, propping his head with his elbow to get a better look at you. You slide your palm up his face by way of greeting - and apology. “Shit, sorry.”

His mouth slants into a lopsided smile. “Flour instead of sugar? Now that’s a mean coffee, babe.”

You snicker, facepalming at your slip-up, and Marc strokes his hand over your hair, studying you with a gentle vigour. Tracing nonsense shapes along your arm with his fingertips.

“Listen,” he says after a while and you tense up, his voice weighed down and a tension settled on his brow. “You’re not useless. I just needed you to hear that from me too, okay?”

You knew he’d been listening. Knew that he’d have something to say on the matter. No way he was going to let that one slide.

You can hear from the weight in his words that Marc never wants you to so much as think anything like that about yourself ever again.

“No?” you ask weakly. “Even taking into account the, um, flour in the coffee situation?” You suck air through your teeth.

Marc bends to press a lingering, soft, slow morning kiss to your mouth, and even after he has pulled back your lips still tingle. “Even then, honey.”

Marc looks down at you then with such sincerity that you could swear that -between him and Steven showering you in love- your heart grows three sizes.

Maybe it’s true - all that the boys have been telling you.

Maybe it’s not your fault that certain things seem to take a harsher toll on you, on occasion.

Maybe it is as real and valid as you’ve always suspected.

For years, you’d wondered if you had been making it up. Wondered if you should simply be able to… manage. But, pushing your discomfort away and extending yourself beyond your personal limits again and again -attempting to just manage- was exactly what had pushed you into this pit, over and over and over.

Besides, each time you found yourself here, it was proving harder and harder to crawl out of it.

Something has to give, you think. And you can’t change the world and you can’t change your wiring. Maybe all you can change -apart from the practical structures and features of your days, deciphering what support you may need - is believing you are enough, just as you are?

After all, Marc and Steven and Jake seem to have no trouble at all believing that.

Your chest tightens with the feeling of being so loved. So understood. So accepted. Your voice splits apart with a raw emotion. You could say a million things, but you only have the energy for three little words. “I love you.”

Marc’s full lips curl up at corners, his deep brown eyes glistening with emotion. “We love you too, Princess.”

Eagerly, he sinks his mouth to yours for another slow kiss.

You focus on just being.

Being here with him.

With them.

This is not just enough.

This?

This is everything.

It will all be okay.

#Marc Spector x reader #Steven Grant x reader #moon knight x reader #Steven Grant #Marc Spector #imposter syndrome: activating *****

[huneekrispee]

Where is my lover?

Pairing: c!Dreamwastaken x gn!Reader

Summary: Living outside the Dream SMP, far from the war and chaos, Dream was able to find comfort in you. One day, he leaves, promising to come back to you. It's been months, now you're left wondering... where is my lover?

Warnings: cursing, use of dream's real name, spoilers for the Dream SMP Finale, tiny bit of fluff at the start, angst

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been watching Attack on Titan recently, and the song 'Call Your Name' has me in the feels :( Sorry for being away for so long :( School has been an ass to me, I hope you enjoy it!! -Hunee <3

Also! Please don't mind the pronouns in the song! This is a gender-neutral fic, I merely just wrote the song lyrics as they are :)

She lost her brother a month ago

His picture on the wall

And it reminds me

When she brings me coffee... her smile

I wish I could be with her until my last day

In the forest, a cottage lays peacefully in a secluded meadow near a running stream. The tall trees lay their shadows onto the grassy floor, leaving marks from the sun. Water solemnly runs along, moving to its next destination through the stream. Grass rustles and a soft sigh is heard.

Stretching his arms above his head, a man clad in green slowly sits up, emerald eyes darting around. He yawns. "(Y/N)!" He's now standing up, searching for his lover. Dream's hand reaches down to grab his mask left abandoned on the grass, quickly putting it on.

Preparing his sword, his hand on the hilt, Dream slowly steps toward the cottage. He rests a hand on the door, waiting for something, anything.

A scream is heard.

He now slams the door open, netherite blade on full display, ready to attack. Looking around, he notices no one but (Y/N) in the cozy home, with a kettle on the ground next to them. Lowering his guard, sighing with relief, he sheathes his sword once more, walking over to his distraught partner.

"Are you alright?" Removing his mask, he takes their hands in his. Dream looks at them. (Y/N) looks down, taking their hurt hand out of his. Sighing, Dream quickly leads them over to the sink, running the tap. "What happened?" The coldness of the water helped soothe the burn. "I just, accidentally burnt myself with the kettle. It's okay, I'll live, Clay."

The man remained silent. The only sound heard in the cottage was the running tap water. After treating the burn on their hand, Dream leads (Y/N) to the chair on the side of the room. "You. Sit. I'll finish doing whatever you were doing. You just sit there and take it easy, you just burnt your hand." Bending down to their height, Dream stands face to face with (Y/N). He narrows his eyes slightly. He was always like this. Whenever (Y/N) got hurt in any sort of way, Dream was always on it, almost suffocating them with his overwhelming protectiveness.

They sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I- I was just... I just wanted to make you a coffee this morning. I know you're going to be busy later, so I wanted to make sure that you were energized for your work." Fiddling with their bandaged hand, (Y/N) smiled gently. "I see how you're always so dedicated to the stuff you do, and I wanted to return the favor, even if it's just a cup of coffee."

Dream's eyes softened. It was true, he was dedicated to his work. Running an SMP was hard, especially with some people interfering with his plans recently. He had plans to take power over the server again. Finding and taking everything his people were attached to was difficult, but at least he had (Y/N) to come home to. It was all for them. It was worth the hard work and pain just to see (Y/N) smile at him, showing him their love.

"It's okay. Thank you for wanting to do that, but you don't have to." Running his hand up to their cheek, he smiled. "I do all of my work for you, to help make a safe place for you. Once I sort out the rebellious people, I promise, I'll come back to you, and we can live together in my SMP." (Y/N) gazed up at him, looking into his eyes. They smiled, beaming at the idea.

"Alright! I promise I'll wait for you! I'll always wait for you. I love you, Clay."

"I love you too. I promise I will come back to you. Always."

He would do anything to see that smile on their face all the time.

She said she gave all her love to me

We dreamt a new life

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

It had been two days. Two days since Dream had left. (Y/N) had since then tended to the flowers and read a few books Dream had gotten them from a faraway village.

'I wonder what he's doing now?' Looking up at the sky, (Y/N)'s mind began to wander. What was dream doing right now? Maybe he was still on his way back to his SMP? Or maybe he was trading with villagers for resources?

They smiled. Dream had been one of (Y/N)'s lifelong friends turned partner. They had met when (Y/N) used to live in a village as a child. (Y/N) was nine and Clay was ten. Dream had gotten into a rough fight with two skeletons and a zombie. He was stumbling around, trying to find help for his injuries.

That was when (Y/N) appeared. Hearing the boy's cries, they ran out of their family home, taking Dream into the house to be treated, screaming for their parents to help him.

They had grown up together as best friends after that. Meeting George and Sapnap, the group loved to go on little adventures together and play their favourite game: manhunt. Dream would always insist on running, with George and Sapnap chasing after him. Sometimes, (Y/N) would join them, but they quite enjoyed seeing the trio panic during the game. It was fun.

A couple years ago, Dream visited (Y/N), saying that he was starting up his own SMP, a place where he and his friends could have fun and just be themselves all the time. The two of them spend hours in (Y/N)'s room, talking about their big plans and ideas for the SMP. Dream wanted to build a cottage near a stream, and live there peacefully with (Y/N). They were shocked, Dream wanted to live with them? "Why?" They asked.

"Well, because of... I'll just show you."

That was the day Clay had kissed (Y/N) for the first time.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

A month had passed. Nothing from Dream. Usually, he'd send a message through on their server communicator, asking how they were and informing them of his journey and new discoveries. But that didn't happen, not this time.

It was hard. Clay had been such a big part of their life that sometimes they found it hard not to worry about him. They knew he was strong, he could take down armies of people, but everyone had their limit.

Raising the iron hoe, (Y/N) swung down, making way for the new seeds of crops that would grow over the next few months. Wiping their forehead with their sleeve, they sighed.

All they wanted was for Dream to be safe, and for him to come back home once he finished his business in the SMP.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Heavy pants of breath echoed throughout the underground bunker. He was panicking. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The plan was to kill Tubbo and make Tommy give him his disks.

It all went to shit when Punz showed up with backup, showing the people of his SMP that had turned against him fully.

"W-woah! Okay! Tommy, calm down!"

The blonde boy didn't listen, hands gripping the axe of peace and lifting it high above his head.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you Dream, right here, right now."

Dream silently gulped. For once, his plan failed. It backfired on him and blew up in his face. 'Sorry (Y/N). Guess I'm not coming back tonight.' He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted to be back in the cottage near the stream, sitting with his lover.

His green eyes darted around to everyone in the room. They looked disgusted, some disappointed, others angry. He knew this would never change. He would never get his SMP back. They hated him. Wanted him gone.

"Does Y/N know you're like this?"

His breath hitched. Eyes went wide.

Sapnap had stepped forward, sword out, pointing it threatening at Dream. "Do they know just how bad you are? How corrupt you've become?!" He was yelling at this point. Sapnap was upset as well. It was hard to believe that his best friend would do all of these bad things, it hurt to betray him, but he had to do what was right.

"S-stop. Stop talking about them."

For once, Dream was vulnerable. He hated it. He was always so soft when it came to them. When it came to (Y/N). Sapnap knew that. He had seen it when they were together, how happy dream was when he was with them, following them around like a lost puppy, longing for their love. It went both ways, (Y/N) was the same.

"Who the fuck is- Nevermind. Dream. Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn't-"

"Tommy stop." Sapnap stepped in again. "This is important to not just me but for another person as well." Tommy stepped back, axe still prepared to lash out just in case. Tommy kept muttering to himself, something about a green bastard.

"Dream. Where is (Y/N)? You said they would join the SMP with us, but they're not here, nobody has seen them, probably besides you. You said that they changed their mind about the SMP, or was that a lie too?"

Dream gulped, words caught in his throat.

"Tell me, you bastard! Where is (Y/N) and do they know?!"

"No. They don't know. All I wanted to do was protect them from something I knew would happen. The wars, the chaos of the SMP. They didn't need to be a part of that. I didn't want them to get hurt."

It was almost like a plea. Dream's voice was quiet like he didn't want them to hear what he was saying. Sapnap stepped back, somewhat satisfied with his answer. He was also upset, he hadn't seen (Y/N) in years, not since before the SMP started.

Tommy finally stepped forward.

"Now. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Dream."

"I can bring people back to life. I can bring Wilbur back."

I said I gave all my love to you

We dreamt a new house

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

Three months. It had been three long months without him. (Y/N) would spend every other night crying in their bed, missing him. They missed everything about him. No messages from him on their communicator. No death messages about him either.

They had never thought that three months could feel so long.

Surely he was busy doing stuff that would mean the world was safer for them. That's what he always said. He said that he worked for them and that he promised that they could settle down and make a new cottage near a different stream, closer to the SMP.

He said he needed to dig out the rebellious people and make his SMP a better place.

All (Y/N) could hope for was that he was safe and doing okay.

We don't know what is wrong tonight

Everybody's got no place to hide

No one's left and there's no one to go on

All I know is my life is gone

Dream was not feeling safe and right now he was feeling anything but okay.

Tommy had just broken his mask. Split down the middle, from the axe of peace.

He didn't want anyone to see his face, no one but (Y/N) and the people who had already seen it before he started wearing the mask.

His mask was his safe haven. A facade he could hide behind. With it gone, there was now no place for him to hide.

All he had done was tell Tommy that he could bring people back to life. When he mentioned Wilbur, Tommy seemed shocked, but then he seemed to come back to his senses after remembering what Wilbur was like before he died.

He went crazy. Insane. All because of Dream and his stupid motives. He only fueled Wilbur's change, encouraging him to blow Manburg up after Jschlatt took over. Thank God for Karl destroying the button the first time. The second attempt was successful and sealed Wilbur's fate as a psychotic, destroyed ex-president swayed by the masked man into committing destruction.

Tommy was angry at that. At the fact that Dream would even think about bringing back Wilbur.

Enraged, he brought the axe down onto Dream's cowering figure.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

Sitting up, (Y/N) slowly looked around the room. It was the same as always; no Dream insight. They woke up every day with a feeling of hope that they would turn around and see Dream at the door, back from his trip.

The situation was too much. (Y/N)'s breaths quickened, eyes blurring up with tears, the salty water slowly dripping down the sides of their cheeks. They let out a dry laugh, bringing up their sweater paw hands to their face, wiping the tears.

They stared at the sleeve of the hoodie they had on. It was green.

It was his.

He always left a spare here, just in case.

It always came in handy when (Y/N) missed him.

They sighed, flopping back down onto the bed, curling into themselves and the hoodie. It smelt like him. He always smelt like a run through the forest, with a hint of saltwater and citrus.

It was comforting.

He was comforting.

The tears wouldn't stop. Every time (Y/N) wiped them away, fresh ones would keep coming. Where was he? Was he okay? It was all they could think about.

(Y/N) hugged themselves, hoping to recreate a hug like his. It didn't work. It never worked.

Nothing could ever compare to his hugs.

Still sobbing, (Y/N) cried themselves back to sleep, despite it being morning.

Not like they had any motivation to do anything without the assurance of him being okay anyways.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Beep.

(Y/N)'s communicator went off.

Dream was slain by Tommyinnit.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #huneewrites #dsmp x reader #dream team x reader #dream x reader #dream x reader fluff #dream x reader angst #dreamwastaken angst #dream imagine #dream fanfic #dream x gn!reader #c!dream x reader #c!dreamsmp x reader

[hubbie22]

Here is an ask well half an ask from the lovely @meddowscrl please don’t hate me 🥺 I just can’t do happy endings. I tried, I just couldn’t. I can only do angst. I like to suffer ~nervous laughter intensified~ Also, please excuse the writing, I have a respiratory infection and am heavily medicated.

You were happy, weren’t you?

“I want a divorce.”

You stare at him, you had only asked if he wanted to change the drapes. And the answer, turned your world upside down. He had been your boyfriend since 1968, your husband since 1972 and yet with one sentence he was now nothing.

“The drapes, I just wanted to change the drapes.” You mutter out like a hapless child.

“We haven’t been good for months.” He looks at you, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

“We haven’t?” Since when haven’t you two been good? Since when haven’t you two shared one brain cell? That was news to you.

Roger stands firms, flicking his long hair back. “No, Y/N.” He sighs, “We haven’t been us for months.”

“Is there someone else?” You look at him, searching for something. “You promised me. You promised me.” The words come out like a chant or mantra, what you held onto when he was on the road. A promise from another lifetime ago.

He sighs, as if he wants to tell you the truth. But he looks at you, and he sees the brokenness he caused. And he can’t bare to make it worse. So, he lies.

“No.”

You walk past him, and he grabs your hand and you think for a moment he will tell you he change his mind. But he hasn’t, and you tear yourself away from him trudging up the staircase.

“Y/N, this has been a long time coming. I’m not happy…. I’m not happy with you anymore.”

“A long time coming for who?” You can’t even look at him while you are packing your things. Most of which, he bought you. So, you only bring what you can into this relationship with yourself. “For you? Because I was happy.” There are tears streaming down your face, like a waterfall, “And I thought we were happy, it’s news to me that we aren’t. And that’s we haven’t been for sometime. Or maybe that you haven’t been.”

You sit across from him in a London high-rise, a wood table between you two and armed with a divorce lawyer. It happened fast, or maybe you were out of it the last few months.

You looked over at Roger, his hair was shorter the last time you saw him.

He stopped by your new apartment to drop off things you left, you could remember his shocked face when you open the door. You heard rustling outside and curiously you opened the door to see Roger crouched down, putting a box by your door. Blue eyes meet yours, and it was like time hadn’t passed. And maybe that’s why you treated it that way, maybe that’s why you went with the old routine. And you wonder if it was the gleam in his eyes, that let you believe that there was something to hold onto; that hope remained.

“Just some bits and bobs of yours.” Roger said, fumbling his keys in his hand.

“Thanks, Rog.” You can’t move from the door frame, the gaze y’all shared unbroken. Years of memories dancing between tha gaze. The squeal of the kettle you put on earlier makes the both of you jump.

“Cuppa? I still have your favorite biscuits.” You couldn’t stop yourself from buying them. It was just normal. And sometimes normal in this new word you didn’t know, was what you needed to sleep at night.

“Really?!” His blue eyes light up, and you motion for him to come in. Staying for tea was a dangerous thing, an old and easy routine. It was weird being so comfortable with someone, who was leaving you behind. Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Maybe it was because of the easiness of it all, that you left yourself fall back into the comfort of it all. As of you two were old friends, not two lovers frayed at the seams. Because of that easiness, you let yourself entertain a thought that maybe you could save your marriage. Put back the broken pieces into something recognizable, but it wasn’t enough. The yearning, the reminiscing of old times through the stuff he brought to you somehow turned into fumbled kisses and clothes thrown around haphazardly. It was something you thought would change the course of where your life was going. Instead of reconciling, it turned into Roger sneaking out when he thought you were asleep. It turned into your lawyer, letting you know Roger wanted you to have more than you asked for. It turned into more resentment and hurt from you, how he could use you and then leave you. How could he so easily but all those years together aside? It turned into something that shouldn’t have happened. And it turned into something that would stay with you forever. A funny word forever, because forever never is forever.

“Sign this, and your divorced will be finalized. All assets obtained during the marriage have been split, due to Mr. Taylor’s wishes.” Your lawyer says looking at you, sliding the papers across, while Roger’s lawyer speaks, “You will be comfortable, and well off Y/N. My client has been more than generous. In fact, I’ve never seen a settlement this amicable from the side of the main breadwinner .”

You sign the papers without any words, you don’t even look at Roger. You realize as you sign on the dotted line, this will be the last time you will use the surname you used for years. Funny how something you thought would never change, would be stagnant in your life just fades away. You then pass the papers across the table back to Roger’s lawyer, you watch as the lawyer slides the papers over to Roger for his signature.

And when Roger takes the paper, you stop breathing you wonder if his mind will change at the eleventh hour. But, he signs it without any hesitation. It’s a fluent and flawless movement, very unlike Roger- really. Part of you breaks at that, it was like he didn’t care he was closing the door on years of his life. Closing the door on you.

You stand up, smoothing out your wide legged pant suit. After the divorce, you had dipped your toes back into the world of working for a living. Putting that masters degree in business to use, and now it was time to separate yourself from the last of the rock n roll lifestyle you loved. And you turn to walk away, high heels on the marble floor when someone grabs your wrist turning you around.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.” Roger looks at you with concern in his blue eyes. And you wonder if it’s for the friend he was losing, and not the marriage he let go of so easily.

You look at him, “I will. Don’t forget to wear your glasses, we both know you are blind. Don’t forget to call your mum once in while, she misses you. And try not to get so angry at the boys, they mean well.”

“Even after everything I’ve done, you don’t hate me.” You spot something in his eyes, you can’t put a name too. An emotion that seems out of place, it was almost looked like guilt and forlorn.

“I told you a long time ago, I could never hate you. No matter how much, I may want too. I just can’t.”

“You are too good, Y/N. I’ve forgot to remind myself of that. Maybe that’s why…” he drifts off, “Even those daft band mates of mine agreed. Never let me forget it. But, Im sure they are out to drive me mad!” He says with a small smirk.

“With the drum sets you destroy, I doubt the plan to make you mad.” You make a small sound, something between a strangled “hmph” and snort in retort.

“Same old, Y/N.”

“By the way, I have something to-”

“Roggiee!” A voice like a bell cuts through the hushed words you tell him.

You both turn to see a girl, or really a woman bounding toward y’all. And you look toward Roger, and you see the look in his eyes. A look that used to be reserved for you. And it clicked, the guilty look etched in his eyes, not even moments ago. The guilty look he wore that night. The whole reason your world was being upended and ruined. It was for her.

The bitterness filled you up, the way he could so easily toss you aside. The look you threw at Roger was one of pure resentment and unbridled rage.

“You lied.” Your hushed words, that come out through clinched teeth drip with a malice.

He looks at you with wide eyes, as if he was trying to shelter you from the truth. And you see that damned look again. “Y/N, please. I just couldn’t tell you.”

But before you can answer, she comes up with a smile on her pink lips and a twinkle in her dark brown eyes. “You must be, Roggie’s lawyer! I’m Gwen.” She smiles at you. And her smile is sickly sweet, and almost innocent.

It makes you want to scream, to throw something, to do something other than what you are doing.

“I’m Y/N, actually.” You extend your hand to her. Her eyes go wide, and she looks at Roger, who goes to her side immediately.

“Y/N, please listen.” He hold onto her side, and the whiteness of his knuckles against the material of her dark dress don’t go unnoticed by you. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with her.”

Gwen chimes in, “We honestly tried to stay away from each other, we just couldn’t. We were drawn to each other.”

If you weren’t so bitter, hurt, and angry perhaps the romantic side of you would find that notion tragic. You had read about it in books, and always rooted for the star-crossed lovers. But, now you were the collateral damage, you were the woman scorned.

“When we decided that what we had was something, I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you that I was in love with someone else, when you were there from the start. I just didn’t want you to find out after I got back from tour-”

“He couldn’t see you broken like that.” Gwen finishes for him.

You can’t even begin to comprehend the information given, you were gobsmacked. You were completely barred raw, for everyone is this godforsaken lobby to see. And because of that, you selfishly did not want to see how genuinely happy he looked with someone else. Someone who wasn’t you. So, you used the words you knew would cut him to the bone. “So, you thought it was better to make me believe it was my fault you weren’t happy. That I was ignorantly living in one sided marital bliss, while you were falling in love with someone else? While you were planning to leave, I was planning for a life with you?” Your eyes are blazing, your face hot with rage, “You thought it was better to make me believe I was the problem? I can’t believe you! After everything I did for you? After putting my life on hold for you?! This is how you repay me? I deserved the truth, but you, the both of you took that from me.”

“I just-” He sighs, “I just wanted to be happy again, and when I’m with Gwen I’m happy. And I was going to tell you, I was going to tell you that day with the drapes. But, you then you uttered that damn promise. And what was I supposed to do? How could I break my best friend? I’ve always been the asshole to everyone, but you.”

“I love you.”

You look at Roger, his long blonde hair disheveled with bright blue eyes. “I love you too, you are my friend. My very best friend.” You bump your shoulder against his, and let out a giggle.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You stare at him wide eyed, “Oh.”

“I have been for sometime.”

“Rog, I love you too. But, that doesn’t mean I want to date you. I know how you are, you will grow bored of me and find someone else. And love is sweet, but it’s not your nature. I don’t think I have it in me to me hate you, or to lose you. Please don’t make me lose my best friend.”

“You don’t get it, Y/N.” He looks at you like you hung the moon, and you like it. You crave that look. “I don’t want anyone else, it’s you. And I think it’s always been, and always will be you.”

“You promise? You promise it’s only me forever?” You bite your lip and stick out your pinky finger, like you had done so many times growing up.

“I cross my heart and hope to die.” He says as he raises your intertwined pinkies up to kiss it.

“And in that moment, I was back in Truro laughing with a curly haired little girl, and then I was in uni with that same girl, who was my best friend, I saw that girl. And, I couldn’t do that to her.”

You look at him, your face cold as stone. “I’m still that girl, I haven’t changed. You have. And that’s okay, it’s okay the change that’s life.”

That is how it ends, with a look of heartbreak on your face as the elevator doors close on the sight before you. And when the doors open, and you are greeted by the sight of the lobby. You realize, you didn’t even tell him what you wanted too.

Would it change anything?

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen imagines #roger taylor

[lonely-lost-soul]

Where Loyalties Lie

(Technoblade X reader) 

Request 3: Can we get a little angsty fic or headcanon of Techno trying to get the reader to leave L’manberg?

Requested By: Anonymous

~~~

     “Tubbo please take a deep breath,” You followed him around the rubble as he paced restlessly. 

     “I’m president of a crater (Y/n)!” The boy pulled on his ears with a loud whine, “What am I gonna do. I can’t believe Wilbur blew it up-” He felt your hands touch his own and gently pull them away from his oversensitive goat ears. “What am I gonna do? I-I’m a kid…” You frowned, moving to cup his cheek with your hand. He nuzzled into it desperately, welcoming the comforting touch of someone who he considered family. 

     “You’re going to get through it because you’re strong.” You told him, “and so brave little ram.” He flushed pink letting out a whine of protest especially because he was still surrounded by most of his friends. 

You watch as Quackity walked over to the both of you and placed his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder squeezing it, “We’ll rebuild. We’ll be right behind you Tubbo.” He smiled at the kid and you couldn’t help but smile over at him. 

     “Thank you both. Truly.” 

There was one thing that had you were worried you may come to regret, and that was not taking Technoblade’s hand as he fled from the country. You were close almost touching it, he looked like he wanted to beg for you too but one desperate cry from Tubbo had you pulling away. He looked heartbroken but at the same time, you saw understanding in his deep red eyes. 

Family came first. 

That day he pulled you close pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be back for you.” 

You murmured a soft I’m sorry, turning to find Tubbo to make sure he wasn’t injured or dying. The thoughts of the festival replaying in your head, you couldn’t go through that...not again especially because now Tubbo was officially on his last life. Tommy couldn’t fathom how you didn’t blame Technoblade for what happened that day, but to you, two things were clear: one was that Tubbo didn’t blame him which made it easier on your end to forgive him; two Schlatt was manipulative and overwhelming as fuck you can’t blame someone for something they were peer pressured into doing. Speaking of Tommy you ended up finding Tubbo and him in the rubble that day, the taller male was pressing cloth to Tubbo’s bleeding arm desperately, when you took over and Tommy seemed grateful. 

However, you had to push your possible regrets aside and focus on the new nation you’d help build, and build it you did. You worked endlessly for months on end creating a lovely new nation for people to live in, Tubbo had dubbed it New L’manburg. You felt his pride and happiness, he just loved seeing everyone together again and happy once again. Finally, the server felt somewhat normal after all that destruction, even if there was a Techno-shaped hole in your heart. Things changed rather quickly when Tubbo was, in your eyes, manipulated to exile Tommy by Dream. You had tried to argue for the boy saying that not only was he Tubbo’s friend but just a kid. You were shut down harshly by not only Dream but Tubbo as well, the look in his eyes was filled with so much loathing and frustration. It’s the first time he ever snapped and was harsh to you, you felt your own frustration bubble up in your chest. You turned on your heel and marched back up into your house, you were not going to put up with this behavior. When you slammed the door shut, and turned around to find Technoblade standing in your living room,  with your cat purring fondly on his shoulders; you almost screamed.

     “Heh- why are you scared it’s just me?” The hybrid complained his nose scrunching up, “Don’t be cringe- oof-” Techno grunted as you threw your arms around his waist, the man flushed to the tips of his ears and looked away from you, Taffy hopped off his shoulders disgruntledly, “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” He pet the top of your head tenderly and you looked up at him with a smile. 

     “What’re you doing here Tech? If Tubbo finds out he’ll have your head.” 

     “Then I guess we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find me then huh?” He mused lips, quirking into a smile, and you nodded in agreement. “Other than that just running some errands. I’m in retirement now you know. I have to say that ‘New L’Manburg’ is certainly a name.” He did air quotes around the name and you nudged him, 

     “Be nice.”

     “Boo Cringe. I’m a Blood God starlight. I don’t do nice.” 

     “Bullshit,” You punched him in the arm, “Tea?” 

     “Please.” He cracked a smile as you walked over to your tea kettle heating the water and grabbing some tea bags. 

     “So, you came here to run some errands huh? I almost thought you missed me?” Technoblade shuffled a little behind you, how could you read him so perfectly? It was complete and utter bullshit. You heard him click his tongue distastefully behind you and you couldn’t help but smirk cheekily,

     “Get off my back woman.” He stated gruffly as you laughed, “but I guess I do miss you a little bit.” You smiled fondly and softly cooed at him and he let out another scoff, 

     “A little bit?”

     “What is this interrogation? You a cop now?” You placed his tea in front of him and he took a sip,

     “Yeah, we’re gonna need to do a strip search. Drop your pants.” Technoblade choked on his drink, face turning the darkest shade of red you’ve ever seen from him. You howled with laughter sliding down in your seat beside the man. 

     “I changed my mind. I didn’t miss you at all, you’re a terror.”

     “You love me, admit it.”

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He murmured looking at you with a sudden softness that was out of character for him. You didn’t notice the change but it was there, oh if only you knew how much of what you said was true. He did love you. He ran his tongue across his teeth and reached out to interlock your hands within his own. 

     “Come live with me.” 

     “Tech…”

     “I’m in retirement now. I’m going to get some turtles hopefully, maybe some other pets while I’m at it. There’s a lot of room...It gets lonely all alone you know. It’d be nice to have you there with me.” He watched hesitance flicker across your face again just like the day Wilbur blew up L’Manburg. Your thoughts went to Tubbo and how much he needed you, especially now that Tommy was exiled. However, you were also brought back to a few moments ago where Tubbo snapped at you for trying to help. You took a ragged breath and pushed his hand away, he frowned sadly bringing his hand back down to his lap. 

     “I need to be here for Tubbo. He’s a kid Tech...way over his head. Dreams sniffing around him like a dog looking for his next victim to manipulate. I can’t let that happen, not to him. I know he’s President of this nation and you hate him for that, but he’s my brother and I love him. He’s a tough kid with a lot of fire, but I can’t just leave him in the dust. I love you,” You reached up and cupped his cheek and Technoblade felt his cheeks burn at the implication, “but I can’t leave until Tubbo is safe.” 

     “I’ll convince you one day.” Technoblade shot back even though his heart ached, that you wouldn’t be coming home with him. But Technoblade wasn’t known for giving up. He was stubborn as hell, he’d win you over yet. You’d come home with him, he’d confess to you and he’d make you the happiest person in the world. You just...didn’t know it yet. 

     “I’m excited for the day you do Tech.” You snickered softly, you both were startled by harsh knocking on the door.

     “That’s my cue. See you soon Starlight,” Technoblade hummed slipping right out the window, you watched him go longingly. You shuffled towards the door and opened it slowly, on the front steps stood Tubbo who was rocking nervously on his feet. 

     “Hi…” 

     “Hey LR...you okay?” Tilting your head to the side,

     “Is LR supposed to stand for little ram?”

     “Problem?”

     “No…I suppose not.” He murmured before clearing his throat and straightening his back, “I wanted to talk with you.” 

     “Oh?” You raised an eyebrow watching him nod his head sternly, you walked outside and closed the door behind you so you could lean on it. “Shoot,”

You watched as Tubbo swallowed thickly, “First off I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. It wasn’t fair of me to snap.” He watched you nod a little urging him to continue, “however, I am the President now and you have to respect my authority.” Eyebrows furrowing together in frustration you opened your mouth to counter him but he held up his hand, “Dream has an idea of how to rule. He can steer me in a better direction-”

     “Pardon me?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, “A better direction? Tubbo, are you forgetting everything we all fought for, we fought him for independence. He killed us!” 

     “He might’ve changed!”

     “He exiled Tommy!” 

     “He deserved it!” Tubbo shouted back as your nose scrunched up, “He’ll steer me in a direction that you never could!” He snapped before realizing what he said, he slapped his hands over his mouth eyes widening to the size of saucers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-” 

     “Go home Tubbo.” 

     “(Y/n) please,” He reached out towards you and you held up your hand, 

     “Go reset the day. You need rest,” You frowned, turning back into the house “see you tomorrow.” Inside the house you shut the door on him and slid down onto the floor, you brought your hands to your mouth and swallowed thickly. A part of you wished Technoblade was still here just so he could tell you to get over yourself, he wasn’t skilled in the art of comforting others, but he could make you laugh. To keep yourself sane you reminded yourself that Tubbo was a child and needed you now more than ever, especially if he thought Dream was dishing out good advice. But you were hurt and a selfish part of you wished you could just go live in retirement with Technoblade and not worry about the new country forming, but you couldn’t ditch Tubbo. 

Running a hand through your hair you sighed loudly, one might wonder what exactly could Tubbo do to make you listen to Technoblade’s offer. Honestly, you had no idea if anything would make you do that unless of course they just started executing people or something ridiculous like that. 

Restless was how you’d describe the rest of your night, you tried to sleep but after a few hours of tossing and turning you gave up. You decided to make yourself a ‘healthy’ midnight snack, a small bowl of mac & cheese, you didn’t care, you were sad. You sighed softly scratching behind your cat’s ears, “It’s just you and me against the world Taffy isn’t it?” Her purrs rang in the air as she snuggled against your hand, distracting you just enough to swipe a noddle from your bowl. “You fat bitch!” You hissed as she ran off back up the stairs, you leaned back in your chair and sighed, literally nothing was going your way today. Just as you finished up your snack you heard a soft ping upon your window, turning to the sound you noticed your neighbor Phil awake in his house. He held up a hand and waved at you through it, and with a small smile, you waved back. He shuffled back into his home, I guess you both were insomniacs together, Techno knew how to pick a certain type of friend it seemed. 

You walked back up to your bedroom and slid under the covers once more, maybe you were wrong and things were going to get better. 

Months went by and nothing seemed to change much to your disappointment. Tubbo and you were still a little rocky, you had forgiven him for his harsh words but he always put Dream’s and even Quackity’s opinion before your own. When you came back from visiting Niki one day and saw wanted posters of Technoblade all around the country you almost had a stroke. You confronted Tubbo about it and only half answered you before running off when Quackity called him. That worried you, he normally didn’t like lying, especially not to you. 

The same day you were walking into the market to get some fresh fruit when a hand shot out from the wanted poster and pulled you behind it. You were held flush against someone’s chest who chuckled gruffly, you recognized that chuckle anywhere. “Techno! What’re you doing here?” You asked looking up at him with eyes filled with concern, “don’t you know you’re a wanted man?”

     “I think that just makes this all the more exciting.” Techno mused running his fingers through your hair, “Plus it’s not like anyone here can catch me.” 

     “Wrong I could catch you.” He dared to laugh in your face, 

     “Sure you could, and I’m half sheep.” Technoblade mused and he watched you huff cutely, “Don’t get all huffy at me you know I’m right.” You only waved him off, “seriously though I’m here to do some trading with Phil.”

     “Oh…” You gave a nod, “Will I see you more frequently then?”

     “You could see me all the time if you moved in with me.” Techno joked again and was surprised to see your face fall a little. Are you serious? Was he getting you to crack? “Starlight?” 

     “Ask me again in a few months and I might say yes,” You teased brushing the question off swiftly, Technoblade didn’t pry but he could tell you were almost convinced. Just what was going on in this country to make you want to leave your little brother? “Now shoo, go see Phil before he gives up on you.” You gave him a little shove and he stumbled off with a huff sticking his tongue out at you in the process. 

After that encounter, you didn’t run into Technoblade for another very long stretch of time. About a month or so after that encounter, Tubbo had shown up at your doorstep a complete nervous wreck. He begged you to help him, claiming he needed diamonds for an upcoming project and wanted you to acquire them for him. “Tubbo I don’t understand why I need to go on this trip? I have diamonds I can just give you. You know I don’t care.” 

     “But I feel bad about it,” Tubbo argued with you “please just do this for me.”

     “You know I’ll do anything for you. If you want me to get them this way I’ll do it. I should be back tonight is that okay? Do you need them sooner?” Tubbo looked relieved as he took your hands in his own, 

     “No tonight is perfect!” The boy chirped sounding more like himself than he has in months, you couldn’t help but smile. You ruffled his hair a little before kissing his forehead, 

     “Then tonight you shall have them, Little Ram.” 

Tubbo helped you gather the materials you needed for a trip down into the mines, Tubbo even gave you some fire resistance potions. You thanked him for the potions before putting on your armor and heading down into the tunnels. As you were down in the mine the concept of time was always an illusion, so when you finally found diamonds for Tubbo and you left the cave you were surprised to see the sun was just setting. You hummed softly to yourself walking back into New L’manburg excited to show off to Tubbo you couldn’t help but wonder what he needed them for in the first place. However, when you entered town you were greeted by a gathering going on at the center. Everyone seemed to be there clad in what looked to be butcher’s outfits, your vibe was immediately thrown off eyebrows furrowing in concern. Quackity was giving some sort of speech and that finally drew your eyes towards the podium, locked inside a cage was a fuming Technoblade. You rushed towards the group, pushing past Ghostbur and a blue sheep, and grabbed tightly onto Tubbo’s arm. 

     “Tubbo what the fuck is happening?” He tensed turning towards your face. It was no secret that you and Techno were friends, this wasn’t good at all.

     “(Y/n)! You’re back early!” He spoke nervously rubbing his hands together as Quackity turned towards you, 

     “Welcome back!” Quackity hopped off the podium with a smirk, “Fundy grab them.” 

     “Quackity hey wait a minute-” Tubbo started as Fundy roughly grabbed onto your arms pinning you in place, 

     “Ow hey! Watch it! Let go of me!”

     “Get your hands off them!” Technoblade snarled nostrils flaring grabbing the bars of the cage tightly. 

     “Quackity you said we’d leave them out of this!” Tubbo argued and your jaw dropped staring at Tubbo, “You promised!” 

He waved Tubbo off with a scoff, “they’re just as bad as Phil, Tubbo. She needs to be punished. We can't play favorites when trying to run a country. We’ll execute Techno then deal with the other traitors.”

     “Execute?” You choked, “you can’t be serious! Tubbo you cannot be serious, since when are you okay with public executions?” He refused to look at you, his hair covering his eyes, he only nodded his head in Quackity’s direction. 

     “Do it.” 

     “Tubbo!” You shrieked watching Quackity grin maliciously, moving over to pull the lever that would allow the anvil to fall and crush the man below it. 

What happened next was a cluster fuck, someone began trying to set off TNT, and Quackity pulled the lever. It fell rapidly towards Techno and he pulled something out of his pocket, in a flash of bright colors and bursts of light Technoblade was ripped apart and pulled back together again. He was alive, Technoblade really doesn’t ever die. He hopped on top of the anvil and jumped the bars of the cage, Fundy had long since lost his grip on you, he noticed Dream ushering him inside a cavern and he paused a moment. The hybrid turned towards you holding out his hand one final time, the world seemed to stop a moment and it was just you and him. His face held a desperate look in it, almost pleading you to take his hand within your own. You flashed back to the day Wilbur blew the country up, Tubbo called your name you glanced over your shoulder once towards Little Ram. You reached into your bag and dropped the diamonds you found for him on the ground, you grabbed Technoblade’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Technoblade smiled and yanked you forward, leaving a heartbroken Tubbo in your wake.

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #technoblade x you #technoblade imagines #dream smp #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp drabbles #dreamsmp imagines #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x reader #minecraft x you #minecraft youtubers #minecraft youtuber x reader #minecraft youtuber x you #platonic tubbo x reader #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #drabbles #imagines

[elysianslove]

for my 🐬 anon, as promised, happy birthday my lovely <3 

the bed is cold. 

it’s your first realization when you wake up, early in the morning. you’re facing his side of the bed, as you usually do when you spend the night. different to every other night, though, issei’s not there. he’s not there, quietly snoring to your side, or half awake and squinting at you lovingly, amusingly, or attempting to sneak a picture of you with your mouth half open. the bed is empty, and it’s cold. awfully so. 

despite never having the energy to get up so soon after waking up, you will yourself to climb out from beneath the comfortable and somewhat warm, thick blankets, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and slowly standing. you scratch at your hair and brush it down, fixing your shirt and and stretching languidly as you walk to the kitchen. maybe he’s there. if he’s not in bed with you, waiting for you, he’ll be in the kitchen, no doubt. he’ll be in the kitchen, preparing the same meal he always does because he’s both too lazy to learn another and he’s perfected this one. he’ll probably have some coffee brewing or water boiling for some tea, a plate and a cup and utensils set out readily for you. if he’s not next to you, then he’s there. 

he has to be.

except, he isn’t.

the kitchen is empty too. it’s cold and dark and empty. it’s void of everything you thought it wouldn’t be, and a shiver crawls up your spine, goosebumps riddling your skin. issei always runs warm, a gentle touch of his palm against your skin would sooth the goosebumps and rid you of the inescapable chill.

except, he isn’t. 

perhaps you were overthinking, as you always do, as he always scolds you about and against, but maybe that’s really all it simply was. the bed that felt too cold and the kitchen that was too quiet. it didn’t mean much, didn’t mean anything at all. even if as you rose with the sun, he disappeared, and even as you sit at the kitchen counter and watch the steam rise from the kettle, an ugly, dark cloud hovering above you, with no one to warm your skin. you tell yourself that he doesn’t mean it, that he wants to be there every moment he can, that it’s not his fault, but rather his work unpredictably calling for him, but the less you see of him, the less you believe in your words. 

there’s nobody you love more than issei, nobody that you would give your all to the way you do issei. and of course, you believe it’s mutual. you’re sure of it. it’s clear in the way he kisses your cheek and in the way he knows exactly how you like your tea, how you like your coffee. it’s also in the way he still sends you ridiculous pick up lines over text like you’re yet to graduate from high school and he’s trying to impress you, and it’s also in the way he sees a shirt and buys it because he knows you’d love it, he knows it’s your style. issei knows all of you, and issei loves all of you, and for the longest time, you believed that it was enough. that although there came nights where the weight was visibly heavy on his shoulders as he returned home to you, or nights where he could barely return your kisses, nights where he felt so far away, everything the two of you had gone through and everything that you were would belittle those nights. would make them seem insignificant. 

but as time heals, it also deepens the wounds. 

you just miss him so much. 

you will your thoughts to fall silent as the kettle finishes boiling your water, as you tip it over to pour it into your awaiting mug. it’s deafeningly and suffocatingly quiet as you dip the the teabag into your cup and stir your sugar. you miss him. you miss him. you miss— 

“what are you doing?” 

you scream, spoon clanging loudly against the mug as you flinch. standing at the entrance to the kitchen is— well, it’s him. he’s laughing, one hand lifted to his chest and his head tossed back lightly in glee as he laughs and laughs, loudly. in his other hand, by his side, is a small, brown bag. 

“why would you do that?” you gasp out, trying to catch your breath as issei continues to laugh. 

slowly, he walks towards you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter and coming around it to stand before you. his hands, now both free, reach out to cup your face, to gently coax you closer to him as he beams down at you. “good morning,” he whispers, before leaning into you, lessening the gap between you as he finally presses his lips to yours in greeting. you can feel him smile into the kiss, like his happiness can’t possibly contained that it’s infectious, and against all odds, you smile back. when you pull back, you’re positively happier than you were a moment ago. 

“good morning,” you easily return, hand coming to rest against against his. 

“what are you doing up?” he wonders, and you frown. 

“why?” 

sighing, he replies, “well, i was planning on— surprising you.” 

surprising— what? 

“what?” 

with a low chuckle, issei’s hands drop from your face, and he leans towards the counter to grab the paper bag, opening it up and pulling out its contents. “i went to that breakfast place down the street to get this,” he explains, showcasing the food. at the sight of the food, and finally recognizing the symbol on the paper bag as the cafe’s logo, your eyes widen, and your mouth parts to protest. except, he beats you to it. “don’t even mention that it’s too expensive or whatever. today’s special. and— if i could get you this every day, i would. you know that.” 

as you duck your head, his eyes try to find yours. “what makes today so special, ‘sei? you really shouldn’t have.” 

at your words, his own eyes widen, and he stares at you in confusion. “what?” 

“what?” you innocently ask, a little confused yourself. 

“did you forget— do you not know what day it is today?” 

you look at him curiously, looking for any sign across his features, anything that could give away whatever the hell was going on. your mind clicks suddely, and your heart sinks as you question, “oh no. it’s not our anniversary is it?” 

“baby, did you check the date on your phone?” 

“why would i check the date on my phone? i thought i had our anniversary memorized!”

thankfully, he doesn’t look angry with you. instead, he seems amused, and a little shocked. genuinely shocked. “what were we talking about last night?” he asks you, lifting up his hands to rest them on your shoulders. he leans close, looking you right in the eye as he waits for the gears in your brain to move and click. you think, and think— what were you talking about last night? — until, finally, a sheepish smile paints your lips, and you shy away. 

when he sees recognition appear across your features, issei smiles, and whispers with a laugh, “happy birthday, doll.” 

you roll your eyes at the teasing tone, slapping at his arm as he pulls you into a hug. “shut up.”

he laughs again, squeezing you to him and wrapping his arms tighter around you. as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, he mumbles jokingly, “it’s okay, i know you just woke up.” you hum, leaning into him. it feels as if you had never missed him, as if he’d never been gone. you feel his chest vibrate as he speaks, deep and so, so beautiful, and you sink deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in the feel and smell and sight of him. 

he always did give amazing hugs. 

“let’s eat breakfast cause i’ve got a lot planned for today, yeah?” he adds, pressing a final kiss to your head as he pulls away from the hug, reaching once more for the food. he moves easily around the kitchen, grabbing plates and utensils and tapping the kettle open once more to reboil the water. 

curiously, carefully, as you watch him, you ask, “what about work?” you prepare yourself for any possible response, every one of them, the good and the bad. but the one you receive is— unimaginable. 

“i took today off,” he simple says, turning around to face you. when he spots the look of relief on your face, he smiles softly, sadly, and reaches out for you. “today’s just for the two of us, i promise.” 

you accept his hand, and squeeze it. “okay.” 

he smiles wider, steadier, gentler, reassuringly, and lets go of your hand to go back to preparing breakfast. you aren’t alone in the kitchen after all, and it’s not too quiet, not too cold, not too dark and not too empty. goosebumps no longer riddle every inch of your skin, because issei really does run warm. and as you move to help him, you think of how warm the bed will be tonight, so you press a kiss to his upper arm, gently, and whisper, “i love you,” to which he easily replies, “i love you too,” with the brightest smile on his lips. 

i really hope you like this!! and happiest birthday, my love! i hope this year is good to you, and that it’s filled with nothing but happiness and blessings and success. love you so, so much, and i wish you the absolute best. mwah <3

#haikyuu x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #mattsun x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu comfort #matsukawa angst #matsukawa comfort #matsukawa fluff

[skellebonez]

16 & 26 with Huntsman X Sandy, LET'S GO

I HAD TO WRITE THIS IMMEDIATE AFTER EPISODE 8 I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS. YOU AND @kitkat1003 DID THIS TO ME. I WROTE THIS PAST 3 AM. I finished it in 30 minutes after I got online again. I want to write MORE so consider this just the start of another ongoing series of prompts I guess.

Obvious SPOILERS for S2E8.

I let you win./You don’t hate me.

Huntsman could not believe that he was doing this. But... everything was off. Nothing about what had happened since the Lunar New Year Festival had felt right to him, and after he retrieved the Demon Revealing Mirror his bad feelings about the entire situation was just farther confirmed. Now, however... now he had next to no trust in the person who was pulling all their strings. Not after her non-answer to his questions.

So now he was here. Out in the open. Back at the docks where he first got a good look at the man he had a recent encounter with. On the boat where he saw him and in front of his door. Huntsman knew he was inside because he had watched him come home.

He wish he knew what his name was, at the very least. He'd just been calling him Blue or Big Guy or something similar in his mind. Said as much during their last encounter. Hopefully what he had found after he had returned meant that there was at least still some good will in his direction from the larger man. Enough to make up for the fact he would have to ask for his name at least.

The door was right in front of him. He just... had to knock now. He knew how to knock, he could do it so quickly. He just... had to raise his arm...

And then his vision was a wall of blue and he let out a very unbecoming scream of surprise.

"It's you," Blue said, face a picture of... confusion. Not the immediate anger or suspicion that Huntsman had expected. It came after a moment however, a glower and a crossing of his arms. "It's you."

The spider demon couldn't help himself from tensing up for a moment, despite his best attempts at avoiding that, but it was only for a moment. He instantly stood up straight, clearing his throat before flourishing his arm with a chuckle. It came out shaky, more awkward than he had intended.

"Is that, heh... offer still on the... table?" He reached into his coat, pulling out the single teabag he had found stashed away in his pocket after their last encounter.

It took a hot second for Blue to react, but when he did it was instantaneous. He grabbed Huntsman by the coat collar and pulled him inside without so much as a word. Huntsman's first reaction was to pull back, fight back at the grip on his collar and then at the large muscular arms picking him up like he was as light as a rag doll, but he didn't. Instead he let himself be picked up, carried through the house boat and deposited on the couch before Blue sat across from him with a stern expression with his palm open.

Huntsman sat awkwardly for a moment before he realized what Blue wanted, and he held out his hand slowly. So slowly. He hovered above Blue's hand for a good few seconds, watching his expression before biting the bullet and opening it to let the tea bag fall into the large hand.

Before he knew it Blue was off and back again with a tray that held two cups and a hot kettle of water, and there was no way he boiled water that quickly he couldn’t have so he must have been making some already. He placed the tray down and began pouring water into the cups that held two identical teabags, one tag more torn and worn and dirty than the other so that must have been the one he had on him. Huntsman sat in silence, unsure of what to do aside from what this happen.

There were cats on the boat. Many cats, more than he could count. They didn’t come close to him, barring one. One that matched his owner in both color scheme and hair style, who sat on Blue’s shoulder and hissed at him threateningly.

Huntsman was not threatened by a cat.

“What’s your name?” Blue asked suddenly as he sat back, a wide smile with a hint of suspicion in the very back of his eyes. But the smile, the open expression, the willingness to give him another chance, that was far stronger. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you.”

“Uh... Huntsman,” he answered slowly, watching the steam lift from the slowly brewing tea between them.

“I’m Sandy,” Blue, Sandy, said without missing a beat. “What are you doing here so late at night, Huntsy?”

The spider demon froze, looking at Sandy incredulously. He had half a mind to tell him off then and there, to object to his name being shortened to something so... so... SILLY! But he didn’t. Huntsman was not stupid, he knew he was not a genius like Syntax (but, then again, how smart could the ex-human really be if he had believed that Spider Queen would not double cross him and bring him into the fold eventually), but he wasn’t stupid.

He remembered their fight. How strong this large demon was. He put Goliath to shame despite being of similar stature, there was something about this man that was hidden deep down somewhere that Huntsman could not see and when he admitted it to himself he had been terrified that Sandy would kill him at that time. He could have killed Huntsman. He saw what he did to the scenery around them. But he didn’t.

He let him go.

So Huntsman took a deep breathe and began to talk.

~

It didn’t take long for his explanation. Just long enough for the tea to finish steeping. He didn’t reveal everything, but he did say enough. Told him about Lady Bone Demon (Lady White Bone, White Bone Spirit, whatever name she was going by these days) and how she had been doing... something. How he had his suspicions for a while. How he was worried for his Queen.

“Do not misunderstand my intentions. I have no stake in your Monkie Kid group and quite frankly if Bone Lady wasn’t in the picture I wouldn’t be here,” Huntsman said firmly, picking up his tea cup as Sandy picked up his. “But I care for my Queen. And I believe she is in danger. I am no fool, I know we are enemies, but they do say ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’..” He paused, looking up at Sandy and maintaining eye contact with him. “And we have a common enemy.”

The cats that were hiding in the shadows had begun to slowly come out. Some were watching him from the shelves and cat trees. How in the world did everything in this house boat stay standing when he drove it?

“That we do,” Sandy agreed, again so fast and so simply. His willingness to listen to the spider demon put him off in a way, but in others... it felt nice to be listened to. As much as he loved his Queen there were times she just did not listen to him at all, Syntax and he did not see eye to eye on much, and Goliath... well, he listened usually. But he was even more loyal to Spider Queen than he was. He put total faith in her working with their extra member so talking to him had not gotten him far. “And after what happened at the festival and Monkey King’s island and all the other stuff? The others are going to take a lot of convincing. But I believe you.”

“You... believe me?” Huntsman asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “... You don’t hate me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. One he could not believe he was saying.

“Nope,” Sandy said as he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t hate you. But that doesn’t mean we’re allies, I know that.”

“... you’re weird,” Huntsman said with a scoff, rolling his many eyes.

“Says the spider guy who let himself be dragged into his enemies home at 1 in the morning to be sat down for ‘a cuppa’,” Sandy shot back with a small smile. There was the smallest bit of amusement behind it. “We’re both weird.”

“Touche,” Huntsman could not help but reply as he looked down at his drink. He couldn’t help but wonder in the back of his mind if it was poisoned. That’s partly what he thought when the last cup was offered in the forest. But Sandy seemed to heartfelt in his offer to have done something like that. He didn’t seem the type to boast about getting alone and not wanting to fight only to poison someone. So Huntsman kept hold his his tea and brought it up to his face. “But that still begs the question. Do we trust each other enough to do anything more after this?”

“Oh, I don’t trust you nearly as far as I could throw you,” Sandy laughed out as he drank the rest of his tea. “But I trust myself. And I trust my own judgement. And I think I can trust myself enough to work with you for the better of both of our friends.”

Huntsman didn’t say anything at that. He sat, staring at the tea for another moment. He... did not trust Sandy, not fully yet. He trusted him enough to not kill him, and so far that trust had been rewarded quite well. But much like Sandy he trusted himself. He trusted his own judgement. And he had chosen to come here of his own volition, by himself, to protect his Queen.

A cat wandered over, a calico, and jumped onto the couch next to him. It stared up at him with bright brown eyes, watching him intently.

“Why did you let me leave?” He asked after a moment. “I let you win, by leaving. But you could have beaten me regardless. Why?”

“I wanted to give you another chance. Everyone deserves that much. Everyone.”

Huntsman gripped his teacup tighter at this, staring at the torn teabag with Sandy’s face on it. It must have been his own special blend. His own special blend that he had given to him as an olive branch. A sign that he would listen. And he had listened.

Huntsman gulped and raised the teacup to his lips and gulped.

It was smooth. Bright. Slightly bitter but not unintentionally.

It was the best tea Huntsman had ever had in his life.

“... How much tea does that second chance get me?”

Sandy smiled, a different kind of something that was brighter and softer and less in his face, and something in Huntsman's chest jumped of it's own accord.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #huntsman #sandy #ship fic #silktea #this possessed me and wrote itself #I WANT TO WRITE SOMETHING MORE OVERTLY SHIPPY ASAP

[itsyourcupofcoffee]

“Please hold me tight, I think I’m going to break”

Ok, this is kind of sucky, but Dazai is bae. If you feel you are going through a tough time, please feel free to send us a dm!  

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTION OF SELF HARM, SUICIDE, DEATH, DEPRESSION .

The crimson hue of the Yokohama sky heralded that the dusk of night was about to make its appearance

 Your fragile eyes stared as the clouds grew increasingly darker, that sensation came back up throughout your body, you called it grief, and lately you had no idea how to keep it under control. You wore out your tears many moons ago.

 You inhaled the air around you, trying to find a way to ease the anxiety that this feeling made you feel.

 To be honest, you weren't happy, at night you cried until your eyelids were exhausted and sleep invaded your entire body, in the mornings and in the afternoons, you displayed a carefree face; the agency was a workplace where work abounded, and you really didn't want to worry or 'bother' anyone with your problems.

 Your figure began to shake gently, sobs decorated the walls of your room. Your hands were covering your face.

 You can' t seem to remember the last time a razor was pressed against your flesh, but in that moment, there was a strong urge to feel that sensation.

 This way, you thought, you wouldn't have to think about the real agony you were experiencing.

 Your steps were directed to the bathroom, the cabinet was opened and a punctured element was found, you sat down on the edge of the tub, pulling up the bottom of your skirt to gain more access to your thigh, you took the object and pressed it against your epidermis, tears streamed from your face landing directly on your s/c skin.

 Your sobs turned into desperate cries; how could a human being feel so much pain?

 Your mind wandered around the corners of the tiles, until you reached the ceiling "WHY? Give me an Answer to this!" your throat screamed until your voice was slightly shutting off. 

Your sight penetrated the bathroom ceiling, as you waited for an answer which you knew would never arrive.

 A knock on your apartment door woke you up from this trance, it wasn't like you to have visitors, and you thought you weren't psychologically well enough to answer and pretend anymore. At least, not tonight.

 You let the knocking stop, but to your agony, that noise never ceased, the thud was still present, and you didn't understand why. Sighing as you got up from the floor, you washed your face, fixed your skirt and headed towards the wooden material.

 " Yes?" was the first thing you said as you opened the door, there before your eyes was Osamu, his bright smile shaped on his handsome face, you were confused, why would he come over to your house? 

"Y/n-chan, I decided to stop by your house to have a nice tea with these wonderful little cakes that I bought!" You always wondered how he managed to keep up such an exhausting act, but in him, it looked charming.

 "Osamu, I think this is not a good t-" without being able to even finish your sentence, he walked through the door and thus entering your apartment

 "Nonsense Y/n-chan, you're just saying that because you've never tasted these little cakes!" You were more than confident that they were either a discount cake or an expiration promotion.

 He took off his shoes and made his way over to your kitchen, grabbing the kettle in his hand and pouring in enough water for both of you. Your figure leaned against the door frame, watching his movements, a surprising smile graced your lips.

 His eyes directed themselves to yours, both glances met and for a moment you felt how your cheeks were decorated with a light rosy shade. You never managed to confess to anybody the feelings you felt towards Osamu, because you knew that not even, he himself would take them seriously.

 Suddenly his gaze became inexpressive, as if he were angry, surprised you asked him

 "Osamu, is everything all right?" he approached your body and grabbed your wrist somewhat firmly. Jolting to the sudden movement, your e/c orbs analyzed his face "What's the matter?!"

 "I knew you were hiding something, I felt it every time you faked a smile, but I never knew you were dealing with this too, why? 

"I... I don't know what you're talking about" 

You didn't know what kind of illusions you believed if you thought that Osamu hadn't discovered you way before and pretending to be incredulous wasn't going to work, not this time, not with him. 

He lifted up your skirt, a small squeal made his attention focus on you for a few seconds "This needs to be treated before it gets infected". 

You didn't know how to react, you were about to generate some kind of sentence, but Osamu grabbed your hand and took you to the bathroom. You sat on the edge of the bathtub, the surface was cold; meanwhile Osamu checked your medicine cabinet, in search of some kind of disinfectant and some gauze. 

Your eyes simply observed his figure, as soon as he found what he required, he took the necessary materials to disinfect your wounds. 

He bowed down before your physique, Osamu's knees touched the surface of the ceramics, he took a moment to analyze the wounds, which in total were three shallow cuts.

 He picked up some of the saline solution, and poured it over the wound. The cold contact of the liquid on your skin caused you to jolt. 

"Does it hurt?" his coffee-colored orbs, which were the loveliest shade of coffee you'd ever witnessed, all you wanted to do was get lost in them and never leave. 

"A little, but it's nothing unbearable" a smile spread over your face. 

"Osamu dried the wound with a gauze and applied a lotion so that the skin wouldn't get infected. 

Once he finished healing you, he only remained silent, staring straight into your eyes, trying to find something, you don't know what, but by the sigh that came out of his lips, you could tell he couldn't find an anwser to what he was searching for . 

"Y/n, please take care of yourself, I don't want you to injure yourself anymore" you felt that all that performance he always maintained was not present at that moment. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't want you to know, nor did I want you to worry about me... it's not worth it" 

Osamu took your hand, they were cold, empty, but when they met yours, they brought life to it, they complemented each other. 

"Don't say that, believe me I care, I knew there was something going on" 

There at that moment, you felt a knot form in your throat, as the tears were making their appearance in your eyeballs. All you managed to do was to hold him, to cling to him as tightly as if he would never disappear again. 

"Osamu, please hold me tight, I think I'm going to break" the words came out broken, as silent as a whisper, you were afraid the air would carry them away without ever reaching his ears. 

"Sh... easy y/n, I am here" his arms tightly wrapped around your form.

 "I don't want you to leave me, I don't want you to go, I don't want to forget you, I want to see your face every day, I want to feel your cologne whenever you walk near me, I want to listen to those bad jokes you make all the time, I want to hear your laughter, I need it to keep going"

 His body tensed as he heard your words, his arms lost strength as he embraced you, he gazed straight at your visage. 

" I' m here, I won't leave, and you won't leave either, do you hear me?" with his fingertips he wiped away every tear that fell out of your eyes.

 "Oh, and by the way, my jokes aren't bad," he said confidently.

 You laughed, and sat down on the floor, wrapping your arms around Osamu's chest, as you sank your face into the crook of his neck, closing up your eyes as he gently stroked your hair, leading you into the dream land.

 --------- Morning --------- 

The alarm on your cell phone rumbled on the walls, your eyes slowly cracked open, your head was spinning, you felt a headache - it must have been caused by all the crying that went on the night before. 

You looked around; you fell asleep leaning against the bathtub's back. 

Osamu... there that feeling came up again, your chest was trembling due to the sorrow, you didn't want to get up, you didn't even want to keep on going. But you promised him you would do your best to keep living. 

It has been six months since his death, and yet you still feel his presence near you every day. You believe this is due to all the feelings you had for him, all the love that you once wished to demonstrate towards him, but couldn’t manage to do so. 

You stood up from the ground, approaching the sink to freshen up your face and then you headed towards the kitchen, there were two cups of coffee sitting on the counter, and next to them inside a bag, two little cakes.

 Another day without Dazai.  

#dazai osamu headcanons #bsd #anime #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #osamu imagine #Mod Hikari #Sorry #Not fluff

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

40. “Have I ever lied to you?” With Janus and Patton?

I've finally written it! 😄 This one is slightly longer than planned, but I had fun finishing it after a few days of writer's block! I don't know how good it is, but I hope you like it! 💚🖤

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 (If anyone would like to be added to the general taglist, let me know!)

Read it on Ao3!

Have I Ever Lied To You?

Pre-romantic Patton/Janus

Janus stared out of the window, watching the rain hit the glass drop by drop before streaming down and pooling onto the balcony of his apartment. He sighed as he held the hot coffee cup in his hands looking at the steam as it fogged up the glass, he drew a smiley face in the condensation, but it didn’t improve his mood. He hated the rain, primarily because it made his hair all messy. It was also what the weather was like when his best friend Patton left five years ago, and he never heard from him again. It didn’t help that he started developing a crush on him not long before he had to leave. Janus tried to shake that thought out of his mind, he never stopped feeling guilty for not being there for Patton… but there was a good reason. He always clung onto the hope that they would be reunited again, but as every year passed, that hope began to flicker and burn out.

He grimaced as he took a sip of his now cold coffee and walked into the kitchen to pour it into the sink. He boiled the kettle to make a fresh cup; but opened the cupboard and sighed once more as he realised he was now out of coffee. He slumped down in defeat wondering if this day could possibly get any worse. Janus dragged his feet as he slowly grabbed his coat ready to head out. His mind was too full of memories of the past and regrets, needing to go out was the last thing he needed, especially when he wanted to just wallow in his emotions. He took a deep breath and opened the front door with the minimal amount of enthusiasm possible.

As he locked the front door and turned around, he heard a crash, and it took him a few seconds to realise that he was on the floor. Not only that, but he was pinned down under a guy who was roughly his age, to say he was baffled was quite an understatement. Janus had to admit, this guy was pretty cute. His auburn hair sat on top of thick rimmed glasses, he couldn’t help but notice the light covering of freckles on his cheeks and the bright blue polo shirt. He was too busy staring to notice that the guy was frantically trying to talk to him.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay? Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to hurt you; I was too busy watching the rainbow made by the rain!” It took Janus a few seconds to figure out where he had seen this person before, the puzzle pieces slowly came together and when the last one slotted into place, his eyes widened in shock. He knew that he had just ignored everything that he had been asked, but he needed to check before he made a fool out of himself.

“… Patton? Is that you?” He had to hide the smile from his face just in case it wasn’t him. The shock on the other guys face was enough to confirm his suspicions as he smiled with such vigor back at him.

“… Janus?! Wow, what are the odds huh?” He got off of Janus and held out a hand to pull him up. He gratefully took the opportunity and lingered holding his hand for as long as possible. He smiled at Patton before he was nearly knocked back onto the ground again with a forceful but endearing hug, something he’s been longing to experience for so many years now. He sank into the hug and clung onto Patton like he was some kind of cruel apparition taunting him. Patton broke the hug first but kept his hands on Janus’ shoulders and at this point, he honestly didn’t care that he was getting drenched from head to toe. He was right where he wanted to be.

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while, huh?” Janus couldn’t help but notice that Patton was kicking a small stone, refusing to look up at him. He must still remember what happened the day that he left, and he felt his heart crack just a little bit. The only consolation was that he could explain his actions from that day.

“Ehh, yeah. I’m doing good. Pretty busy which isn’t unusual for me. Believe me, I’ve been thinking about seeing you again for the longest time. How are you doing?” He saw that Patton was slowly looking up at him, almost in relief that he hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Yeah… I’m good… Do you really mean that? You’ve been thinking about me?” There was an uncharacteristic glint in Patton’s eye, like he was fighting the urge to either laugh or cry, trying to find a lie in Janus’ genuine truth. He used to lie a lot and hide truths behind sarcasm, but he grew out of that over time.

“I meant every word, Patton. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you… Have I ever lied to you?” He stepped closer to Patton, he knew that question would lead to the thing he both wanted to confront but wanted to run and hide from at the same time. The fact that Patton’s eyes were tearing up and glimmered in the rain showed that he was thinking the exact same thing.

“Only once… The day I had to go, move away with my parents… Where were you? You were the only person I wanted to see before I left, but you were the only person who wasn’t there… I’m sorry. That’s not fair, but you meant so much to me. You still do, and you always will.” That small crack in Janus’ heart was breaking more and more with every word, with every shake in Patton’s voice as the hurt he must have been harboring just poured out into the street and merged with the falling rain. He wrapped Patton up in a hug, and he felt the desperate clasping on Patton’s hands around him. He whispered to him how it was okay, that he was sorry, that he wasn’t going anywhere again. It didn’t take long for the sobs to turn into quiet sniffles and Patton pulled himself out of the warm embrace with a grateful smile on his face.

“I can assure you, Patton. There’s no one that feels worse for what happened that day. I have beaten myself up every single time it rains, the guilt and sadness has consumed me constantly. The thought of never seeing you again made me want to scream and search the world to find you.” He had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying, there were too many tears for what should be a happy reunion.

“Look, I can explain what happened… I had ordered a gift for you, but I had to go into town to get it because it was custom made. Then the bus didn’t turn up and traffic was a nightmare since the rain caused the road flooded. By the time I finally got back to your house… you were long gone.” He could help but think how cute Patton looked again as he started to get excited and bounced on his feet slightly while covering his mouth with his hands.

“You… You were getting me a GIFT?! Oh my goodness, I love that!!” Janus took a deep breath in, he had kept it all of this time, just in case this miracle ever happened. He clasped the small square box before slowly removing it from his bag. He took Patton’s hand gently and then placed the box on his palm delicately.

Patton looked over with a look of surprise on his face. Janus nodded, urging him to open the box. He lifted the lid off as carefully as he could. Patton gasped and Janus had to admit, he forgot what it looked like after all of these years. It was a bracelet combining their two favourite colours. The body of the bracelet was a mix of blues, some light, some dark like the night. Then threads of gold were wrapped around, creating a beautiful combination of the two colours which symbolised their bond. There were three charms that summed them up too. A paw print for Patton, a small snake for Janus, and a heart in between them. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he saw how stunned Patton was.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life… This is gorgeous Janus. I love you! Can you put it on for me?” Janus’ brain was buffering for a second… Patton just said what? Did this mean that he had feelings for him too? He could think about that later, he needed to hide the blush spreading across his face and he delicately took the bracelet and tried to open the clasp. His hands were too wet from the rain, and it kept slipping from his grip. He laughed and smiled when Patton giggled too.

“It’s way too wet out here, how about you come into my place? We can dry off, get some take out, watch some Disney movies, and catch up on everything? I think we have a lot to talk about.” He held his hand out and Patton nodded before taking it. Hopefully, this would be the beginning of a happy ending for both of them. He looked behind him briefly, Patton was stood perfectly in the middle of a fully formed rainbow as the sun broke through the clouds. He took out his phone with lightning speed and snapped a photo while Patton wasn't looking. Maybe rain wasn’t so bad anymore. Janus turned back, and as he unlocked the front door, he couldn’t help himself from whispering under his breath.

“I love you too, Patton.”

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic #patton sanders #janus sanders #fluff

[walter-boswell428]

Mission Recover

The Tower

“Alex?” Eliza Danvers asked, “Anything?”

“We are trying, mom, I swear we are trying?” Alex answered through gritted teeth.

“Alexandra Danvers,” Eliza said quietly, “I’m not upset with you, it’s the situation.”

“I know, mom,” Alex sighed, “we are all working on it.”

“I’m headed up to National City tomorrow, is there anything I can bring?” Eliza asked?

“No, but if I think of anything, I’ll let you know,” Alex relaxed, smiling. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” Eliza smiled as well, “give Kelly a hug for me.”

Alex disconnected the call, placing her phone flat on the conference table and layed her head on the cool table top.

>>>

Forty-five minutes later she felt a hand rest on her shoulder and looked up into the weary eyes of Lena Luthor. “Kelly said your mom is coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, she--she’s really worried, and I think she wants to help,” Alex explained, her voice hoarse and heavy with sleep.

“Does she have a place to stay?” Lena asked warmly, taking a seat in Kara’s chair, “I can put her up at my condo.”

Smiling, Alex patted Lena's hand, “she is going to stay at my place, I’m not using it right now.”

“You can’t keep sleeping here,” Lena pouted, “you need to get some real sleep.”

“I believe that would be the pot calling the kettle black, Ms. Luthor,” Kelly Olsen smiled tiredly as she entered the room. “You haven’t been home since you quit Luthor Corp.”

Alex blinked, surprised, “you quit?”

Lena hung her head, “I couldn’t work with him anymore, not after--not after what he did.” Her eyes lifted when she felt Alex squeeze her hand, “I couldn’t go home. Too many bad memories.”

Alex squeezed harder, “I understand. Hey, you want to--you want the key to Kara’s place?”

Lena’s eyes bulged, and she quickly shook her head, “no, no, no…” She turned and quickly walked away, heading towards her lab.

“She still blaming herself?” Alex asked as she looked to Kelly, her tone calm and relaxed. “She’s part of the team, none of us hold her responsible for what her brother did.”

“She’s--she’s complicated, Alex,” Kelly turned and looked at the door, a small frown forming on her face, “and she’s scared that she and Kara are going to be…”

“Broken? Again?” Alex spoke quietly as she laced her fingers into Kelly’s. “We really need to find Kara, before we all fall apart. Especially her girlfriend there.”

“Don’t say that out loud to her, she’s so brittle right now, it won’t take much for her to break, and Kara is her breaking point,” Kelly squeezed Alex’s fingers. “All her fears, hopes and dreams are about Kara.”

>>>

Lena’s Lab

Lena’s fingers flew over the keyboard, checking readings and double checking everything again. “Dammit, Kara!” she swore, “where are you?” Her fist slammed down on the panel.

“Lena?” Nia asked as she opened the door. “Are you okay?”

Lena took a deep breath, and rubbed her hands together before turning to face the young hero. “Sorry Nia, I’m frustrated.”

A nervous laugh escaped the younger woman’s lips, “that could be because you are taking all of this...” The Naltorian swept her arms around, “you are blaming yourself for everything.”

“Kara is lost, because I didn’t outsmart Lex! We are working alone because I am here and the other heroes don’t want to work with me!” Tears started to stream down Lena’s cheeks, “I have never been strong enough. I am here now, because I wasn’t strong enough to save her.”

“Lena, Kara doesn’t blame you. She never did,” Nia whispered.

Lena collapsed to her knees, ‘n-n-not Kara, I failed her, I-I-I failed my mother.” She raised her head and screamed.

Nia rushed to Lena, arms outstretched, wrapping them tightly around the woman, “I’m sorry, I am so sorry. Shhh, it’s okay.” Nia crouched down, taking Lena with her. Nia leaned against the desk, still holding on as Lena cried. In a soft whisper she started to sing, a Naltorian lullaby her mother had taught her.

The exhausted woman in her arms lowered herself slowly, sliding beside Nia and resting her head on her shoulder. “I’m so tired, so tired.”

Nia smiled, slowly weaving her power into the words as she sang. It had the desired effect, and Lena’s eyes slowly started to close, and her breathing eventually evened out. Within a few minutes, she stretched and slid her head down onto Nia’s crossed legs.

A few minutes later, Kelly and Alex entered the lab and found the two women sleeping on the floor.

“I know it looks uncomfortable, but maybe?” Kelly shrugged towards the two women.

Alex nodded, surrendering, and she and Kelly made their way over to the sleeping pair, joining them and dozing off quickly.

>>>

At Luthor Corp

Lex Luthor looked out over the city from his office, smiling as he looked into the sky. His computer beeped and he turned, talking to himself, “the Girl of Steel, waking up again.” He waved his hand and a hologram of the Phantom Zone appeared in space at eye level, a red dot marking the location of Kara Zor-El.

>>>

The Phantom Zone

Kara stirred slowly, moving stiffly as she stood up. She shivered as she approached the cave entrance pulling her cape around her shoulders. It was the first time she had slept without nightmares in several days, and she couldn’t help but think that it was because her father was not around at the moment.

She watched through the hazy, half-dark skies as a figure approached. It was Zor-El and she found herself disappointed that he had once again found his way back to her. She huffed out a deep sigh and turned back into the cave.

As she took a seat against the back wall, she wondered what her friends and family were up to at the moment. ‘How long have I been gone? Have they given up? Have they moved on? Has Lena?’

“I have returned, inah,” Zor-El’s hollow voice called out from the entrance of the cave.

Kara rolled over and rested her head on her arm, pulling the cape tighter around her as she ignored the call, and fell back to sleep.

>>>

The Tower

As blue eyes slid closed, green and brown burst open at the same moment. “We need her DNA!” Lena and Alex yelled at the same time.

Kelly and Nia jumped as the two women screamed at each and stood up, running towards the bank of computers on the wall. Alex was pulling up the schematics for a scanner while Lena was entering in hypothetical information to start modeling the software. She slowed down for a moment then, staring at the screen, then turned to Alex, “where are we going to get Kara’s DNA?”

Alex turned to the whole group, a grin splitting her face, “mom.” Then she turned back to the computer and activated the program she was working on.

>>>

Alex’s Home

The next morning, Alex and Kelly met Eliza at the front door of the apartment. She peeked in and noticed a third person, and smiled brightly as she recognized the small blonde woman. After hugging Alex and Kelly, she stepped through the door and walked directly towards Cat Grant, “didn’t think I would be seeing you today.”

“Well I figured since my ‘source’ for all news involving Kara and Supergirl was going to be in National City, I should make an appearance, especially since no one in Kara’s group, other than you, Eliza, notified me that Kara would be working with me on a special story,” Cat smirked as she looked over Eliza’s shoulder at Alex and Kelly. “Now, would you two like to tell me about the secret you have been hiding all morning. I am assuming it has something to do with your mother’s arrival.”

Alex scanned Eliza’s neck, “mom, where is the necklace that Kara and I got you for mother’s day?”

Eliza looked at her daughter, confusion obvious on her face, and reached into the collar of her shirt, pulling the small gold chain and heart-shaped locket from her neck. “It’s right here, where I always wear it.” Alex’s hands came up, and she stopped as Eliza held up a single finger and unclasped the necklace with practiced ease and placed it in Alex's outstretched palm. “Want to tell me what this is all about?”

On the back, there were raised Kryptonian glyphs, and Alex smiled as she remembered Kara’s fingers fumbling with the gold as she shaped the locket with her hands. She found the small imperfection in the glyph and pressed lightly, causing the back of the heart to pop open with a resounding click. Her smile grew even larger when she saw the braid of hair, four each of hers and Kara’s hair, pulled from each other’s head just before Kara’s first Earth haircut. She reverently removed the hair and inspected the roots, noting that all four of the lighter colored hairs were all intact. “Yes, yes, yes!” she yelled as she slid the hairs back into the locket and yanked out her phone, dialing Lena. She only had to wait less than one ring, “we’ve got four complete hairs, will that work?”

The four women stared at the phone in shock at the sheer scream of joy from the other end.

>>>

Early the next morning, Lena looked at the screen, her vision blurry, and saw what she was looking for. Reaching out, she grasped Alex’s hand, “We did it! Oh my god, Alex! We--we found her!”

Bleary-eyed, Alex looked at the screen, and there they were, the lifesigns they were seeking, one Kryptonian signature. “You did it Lena, you found her, you found her,” Alex ran to the door, screaming into the hallway, “Lena did it, she found her, she found Kara!”

Rushing back into the lab, she grabbed Lena in a backbreaking hug, “you did it, we are going to get her back.”

Lena stiffened, “you are, you’re going to get her back, Alex.”

Alex stopped, and took a step back, taking Lena by the shoulders, “we--we are getting her back, Lena. All of us! Do you understand, ALL OF US!”

Alex watched as something dawned on Lena, she felt the younger woman relax, “We are, we are going to get her back, Alex. All of us--all of us together.”

“That’s the Lena Luthor I know, the woman I admire. The woman Kara lo--cares for,” Alex smiled. “We need to prepare, we need weapons, and a portal.”

“I believe I can help with the portal,” Brainy said as he entered the room, causing the two women to separate. “The top two floors of the tower are set up for interdimensional travel and flight,” Brainy smiled, “something J’onn failed to mention when we all decided to use this location as our headquarters.”

“Up until this point, we had no use for the technology, I apologize for keeping it a secret,” J’onn explained as he and Eliza joined them.

“You really found her, Alex? Lena?” Kelly called out as she and Nia ran into the room.

Alex reached over and grabbed Lena’s hand, “we did!”

Lena smiled, “yes we did.” She started to giggle, and it was suddenly contagious.

All the superfriends were laughing, when Cat Grant peeked in the door, shaking her head at the scene. “Can we go get her now?” the reporter asked, “Now?”

Nia froze for a moment, as blue mist swirled around her. She seemed to be staring into space, but quickly recovered, “we can’t go now, in the morning, we must go in the morning. And we have to be prepared for anything. Kara is in danger from two men, one from our dimension and one is a ghost.” The young hero shuddered, as her vision cleared.

“Alex, you and Lena, need to get some rest. Brainy you too. I’ll take care of the prep work, each of you make a list of what you need, and it will be ready.”

“I’m going too,” Eliza spoke up.

There was a resounding no from the room, except for Cat, who smirked, worried for the group of Superheroes who had just told Supergirl’s mother, no.

“Oh really, and you are all experts on Kryptonian physiology and the mental aspect of what, MY DAUGHTER, is going through?” Eliza snarled, “which one of you thinks you can stop me?”

“Mom? Be reasonable,” Alex swallowed, realizing her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

Eliza walked up to her daughter, “Alexandra Michelle Danvers?”

Alex felt the world slowdown as her mother grasped her wrist, spun Alex around and flipped her daughter onto her back. “Oof,” escaped from Alex’s lips and as she breathlessly rolled back to her stomach, taking Kelly’s hand and standing up as everyone applauded. “I--I guess you are--are going,” she grunted out.

“Yes, I guess she is,” Cat Grant laughed, “I on the other hand will stay behind and wait for this team to recover our girl.”

The team filed out, each heading to his or her own bedroom, still laughing as Alex limped down the hallway. Lena stopped, and headed back to the lab, stopping in front of Eliza, “I haven’t had time to--I didn’t set up--we don’t have sunlamps.”

“Lena,” Eliza said, “I created the sunlamps, I will make sure they are ready by morning, okay?”

Lena nodded, afraid to speak. She swallowed, and opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. She closed her mouth and stared at the floor, and suddenly found herself gathered into Eliza’s arms. Soft sobbing sounds escaped Lena’s mouth, “it’s my fault, this is all my…”

“Shh, hush, Lena,” Eliza cooed, “it’s not your fault, sweetheart.” She pressed the woman into her chest, holding her gently and letting her cry. “She won’t blame you either, she believes in you Lena, she cares for you.”

“I don’t deserve her, or any of you,” Lena stuttered, settling into Eliza’s arms.

Eliza smiled, “you are absolutely just as hopeless as Kara. She loves you, Lena”

“Eliza?” Lena looked shocked.

“You are her sun, you are her everything Lena, remember that, because she is going to need us, all of us when she comes home,” Eliza said with a smile. “Go, get some sleep so we can go rescue your girl.”

>>>

The Tower

Lena stood outside the door guarding the top two floors of the tower, her hand hovering over the handle, self doubt crushing down on her shoulders. She didn’t hear the approaching steps as the rest of the Superfriends came up the hallway.

“Lena,” Alex smirked, “if you really want to go get Kara, you have to turn the handle.”

Alex watched a small smile find it’s way to Lena’s lips. Watched as Lena’s hand closed around the handle and turned, and listened as steely determination rang through Lena’s words, “let’s go.”

They all took their seats, each seemingly knowing where they should sit. At Lena’s station was a large button, obviously the one that would activate the transdimensional portal. J’onn and Eliza arrived a few minutes later taking their seats at the pilot’s station. Eliza looked over the controls, and pressed the launch button. “I wasn’t aware that you spoke Martian, Eliza?”

“I started practicing last night, I also speak French, German, Japanese and Kryptonese,” Eliza smiled. “Lena, would you be a dear, and activate the portal.”

Alex suddenly looked mortified, and Kelly felt her tense up, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“Mom speaks Kryptonese,” Alex said in a whisper, staring at the back of her mom’s head. “Kara and I used to talk to each other thinking that she and Jeremiah couldn’t understand.”

“Mother knows all, Alexandra,” Eliza said, peeking over her shoulder and winking.

Then the world broke, and the portal opened…

>>>

Luthor Corp

“Mr. Luthor,” the computer’s synthesized voice spoke through the speaker, “a portal has opened over National City. Based on your sister’s studies, the portal appears to be…”

“Shut up! Shut the hell up!” Lex growled. “Prepare my armor!”

Within minutes, Lex was suited up and launching himself towards the portal that Lena had created.

>>>

The Nightmares

Nia (A New Power Rises)

The bridge was dark, everyone was gone. Nia took a shaky breath, shivering in the cold blackness. She took another breath, then another. As her body relaxed, she tried to pull on her power. A blue glow started to emanate from her fingers, casting soft shadows throughout the dark bridge. One of the shadows came to life, walking towards her, wearing the face of her sister Maeve.

“You will fail, Nia Nal,” the shadow hissed, as it slid from shadow to shadow. “You carry the power of our mother with no knowledge of its use. You will fail your family…”

Nia tried to focus, to draw on more of her power, when out of the shadows walked Yvette's attacker, “keep trying Dreamer, you failed Yvette and it took everyone but you to find Supergirl,” the shadow’s words slid from it’s throat. “You fail, again and again…”

Nia started to raise her hands to her ears, when a final shadow appeared. “You aren’t worthy of the power Nia,” the words flowed from the mouth of the creature as its eyes opened and Nia realized she was seeing herself.

She dropped to her knees, a silent scream coming from her opened mouth. She pushed, her light slowly dimming, allowing the shadows closer and closer.

“Nia, Nia,” she heard a soft whisper in her ear, “you have always been a hero, it’s always been inside you…”. She heard the words in the voices of her family, and with each speaker her powers continued to grow, pushing against the shadows. Her eyes opened wide as Kara’s voice reached her ears, “you got this, little sister.”

With those words, a mighty roar spread through the darkness as a lioness made up of Nia’s light burst forward and destroyed the shadows.

Brainy (Form Own Destiny)

Sitting in his throne, Brainiac looked out over the destroyed planet that had once been Earth. With his enhanced powers, he could see the remains of the heroes of this petty planet, Guardian’s shield, Sentinel’s jacket, Martian Manhunter’s boots, Supergirl’s cape. Then he looked down into his hand, where he held Nia’s mask.

He sat staring at the mask for hours, running it between his fingers, relishing it weight, trying to remember the eyes that had been behind it.

“What have I become?” The words escaped his mouth in one breath.

“You have become that which you were always meant to be, offspring of Brainiac,” a shadow whispered, “you have become death, and the universe will be better for it.”

“This is not who I am?” Brainy panted, “I…”

“Ehehaha, you speak as if you can fight destiny,” the shadow laughed. “You started on this path as soon as you allied with the Earthling named Lex Luthor. He stained your soul, and now there is no turning back. You will kill them all.”

Brainy’s eyes got wide, tears started to fall, “no, I--I refuse to believe this fantasy.”

“You act as if you have a choice,” the voice whispered.

“All sentient creatures have a choice,” Brainy spoke with confidence, then felt an invisible hand take his own. “We make wrong choices. We use them to make us better, stronger…”

“IT IS YOUR DESTINY!” The voice screamed.

Gripping the hand tighter, Brainiac stood up, “logic does not dictate destiny. My friends…” the hand squeezed back, “my family forgave me, you are not by destiny.”

The lights came up, and Brainy found himself staring into the glowing eyes of Dreamer.

J’onn (Protect Your Family)

Green lidded eyes opened slowly. The Martian Manhunter shook his head, and looked around, trying to get his bearings. ‘DEO Headquarters?’ he thought to himself and attempted to move, but found himself unable to move.

Susan Vasquez and Alex walked into the room and the corner lit up showing Winn sitting at his computer. J’onn tried to speak, but no words would come. He couldn’t even move his head. Then from behind he heard booted feet approaching. He tried to turn, to fight whatever it was that had him trapped.

The first bullet struck Susan in the back of the head, the second hit Winn in the chest. The third and fourth hit Alex in the arm and then the leg, dropping her to the floor, screaming in pain and firing at her unseen enemies. The bullets passed right through him and J’onn realized it was him, he was the unseen killer.

Kara entered a moment later, shielding her sister with her body, as her heat vision fired through him over and over again.

A green round shot out, catching her in the chest, and J’onn started to breathe even harder, panic pushing him to move, but he couldn’t.

He blinked back angry tears, and felt himself starting to rise, to float away. He could see the enemy and it was Lex Luthor.

The balding man looked up at him and sneered, “running from another fight, J’onn.” Then he turned his attention back to Kara and Alex who looked up at him, fear in their eyes. Lex took a step forward, raising his arms, the noise of cycling rounds was deafening as he locked on J’onn’s earthbound daughters.

His scream gave the girls a moment but it wasn’t enough as Lex started to fire, his rounds getting closer and closer.

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” J’onn started to say to himself, “it’s not real,” He cringed in horror as the rounds got closer and closer. “IT’S NOT REAL!”

The lights came back…

Kelly (Guardian Shines)

The doors slid open and Kelly Olsen slipped in silently, moving from shadow to shadow watching and listening as an obviously controlled Lena and Eliza studied a caged phantom zone demon. As she slipped from one hiding spot, the creature spotted her and the woman froze in place.

“Kelly,” the creature hissed from the mouths of Eliza and Lena, “you should not have come here, Kelly Olsen.”

Kelly took a deep breath, getting her breathing under control, ‘this isn’t real, Nia warned us, Alex warned me, it’s all a nightmare.’

A familiar voice sounded in the woman’s ears, slurring slightly, like she had drunk one beer to many before bed time. Kelly turned towards the sound, her eyes opening wide with shock, as Alex approached, her eyes red, “Hello, Kelly.”

Stumbling back, Kelly stuttered, “what, Al--Alex?” She shifted away from the woman, holding her hands out to keep the thing that was her Alex at a distance. “Alex, this--this isn’t you, fight it, if anyone can, it’s you, honey.”

The creature began to hiss through Alex, Lena and Eliza’s mouths again, “why would we fight, we are stronger, physically and intellectually than you could ever hope to be.”

Kelly’s eyes closed tightly, ‘it’s not true, Alex would never say that.’ She opened her eyes back, and looked at the demon creature, “Alex, this isn’t something you would say. The Alex I know asked me to move in with her, she wears her fuzzy socks on a cold night in the winter. She shared her deepest secret with me and her deepest fears,” The Alex creature’s eyes flickered a moment and Kelly smiled softly, “remember the first time we met, at the hospital, how we butted heads? How we were so sure we were right and the other person was wrong? I knew then that I wanted a part of your life. All the ups and downs Alex, I can’t think of anyone else I would rather be with right now.”

Alex’s eyes closed, almost as if she was in pain, then they opened and Kelly smiled, relieved to see the brown eyes of her Alex. “Kelly, I--I didn’t mean any of that, I swear it wasn…”

Kelly smirked, “you sound just like Kara when you ramble.” Then she pressed their lips together and pulled Alex into a tight hug.

“He’s coming back, Kelly, you need to listen to Nia, let her help, trust her,” Alex said as she pulled away. “Save us, Kells. Save us…” Her eyes closed again and when they opened Kelly was once again staring into the blood red orbs of the demon.

“Nia?” Kelly gasped, backing away slowly.

“You can do this, Alex knows it and so do I,” she heard Nia’s voice whisper in her ear. “Be the Guardian your brother could never really become. Be the hero we all know you are…”

As the voice faded, Kelly saw a blue mist swirl around her, felt armor start to form on her frame. Looking down, she found herself wrapped in blue and gold, a helmet formed around her head and she watched with a smile as a gold shield appeared on her left arm.

The creature picked that moment to attack. Kelly leaped back, pressed off the wall and jumped into the air, spinning as she lifted the shield's cutting edge level with the demon’s neck. She heard it scream, landed in a crouch and turned, watching with satisfaction as it dissolved into mist.

“Good job, Guardian,” Nia said as she took Kelly’s hand and the darkness faded…

Eliza (A Mother’s Love)

Eliza stepped into the clearing, listening as Alex begged Kara to come back, to not die. Her heart clenched and she stopped. The sunlight in the plants started to move towards her adopted daughter then stopped as Snowbird swooped down from the sky and attacked Alex, driving her oldest child to the ground. The woman stopped, hovering over her girls. A growl rose in Eliza’s throat as she gathered herself up and moved out of the shadows, “get away from my girls, you bitch.”

She stopped as the creature looked up at her, red eyes, dead and uncaring staring at her. “You are weak, Eliza Danvers, not even worth my time.”

Through gritted teeth, “try me, I’ve faced nightmares worse than anything you can conjure up. Bring it on!”

The creature tilted its head away, ignoring Eliza completely and lowered itself over Alex and Kara again.

Eliza swung a tree limb at the creature's head, “I said get away from my girls!”

The creature recoiled and lost the shape it was holding, transforming into a phantom zone ghost. Eliza growled again, swinging once again at the monster’s head. She grunted as it connected with something solid and the creature howled in pain.

“Still think I’m not worth your time?” Eliza threatened.

The girls stirred and Eliza turned her head. The creature picked that moment and attacked, but Eliza was prepared and waited, raising the stick like a spear, watching in satisfaction as it impaled itself and began to dissolve into mist.

“Never doubt a mother’s love,” Eliza snarled as the light returned…

Alex (A Sister’s Bond)

Alex slowly opened her eyes and looked around. Her breath caught in her throat, as one thought came to her, ‘Kara’s apartment!’ She watched her sister’s dark shape, shooting her heat vision at the rack of clothes in the corner of the bedroom. Rushing forward, she grabbed a fire extinguisher, pulled the pin and put out the fire. Kara turned her back and strutted towards the window. “Kara?”

“Don’t even Alex,” Kara didn’t turn around, she just continued to talk, “jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

Alex shook her head. She’d been here before. She looked around the room, at Kara’s black uniform. ‘Astra’s dead, Kara’s--she’s been exposed to--to Red Kryptonite,’ Alex’s brown eyes opened. She was reliving one of the worst nights of her life.

Kara opened the window, “how does it feel, Alex? How does it feel to be less?”

“I failed you Kara, I should have been with you, I should have protected you…” Alex cried out, interrupted.

The Kara creature turned around, now longer wearing the black, now she was beaten and bruised, “you have always failed me.”

Alex’s breath caught, it was the night Reign had beaten her. The coma, Kara’s heart stopping. “I…”

The creature stopped again, and Kara was lying in a forest clearing dying as Alex struggled to remember, to save her.

“Kara…” Alex’s breath caught, she was losing it, losing control.

Kara was trapped in the fortress, the kryptonite leaching into her system. “You always arrive too late, Alexandra Danvers.”

Now Kara was against a white wall, as kryptonite slowly killed her. She was fading away, disappearing into the phantom zone.

“NO!” Alex screamed, “I haven’t failed her, not like this. Show me the times she didn’t get hurt, show me the times I held her hand and supported her. Show me the times she held my hand and supported me. WE ARE SISTERS, we fight, we hurt each other and then we get up, wipe our hands and face the world. I will save her, she will save me, and together, WE WILL KICK YOUR ASS!” Alex shook with tears, took a deep breath and stepped forward, “you will not stop us from getting her back, so GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

She fell to her knees as the darkness faded and Kelly wrapped her arms around her…

Lena (For Better or For Worse)

Lena could feel herself falling, plummeting through her own memories.

She was standing by the lake shore watching her mother’s hand sink beneath the surface.

She was standing in the hallway of a dark house, looking into the face of a woman who would never love her.

She sat alone in the cafeteria at the college, too young to understand why no one wanted to eat with her.

She was sitting alone in the courtroom, listening as Lex was sentenced.

She was always alone, until one bright light forced its way into her life.

“She’s Supergirl,” Lex said as she pulled the trigger.

Kara was standing before her then, her blue eyes hidden behind the red of the creature from the Phantom Zone, “she betrayed you, she doesn’t trust you, she is scared of you and you left her alone to suffer by your brother’s hand.”

Lena fell to her knees, a crushing sob rushing from her throat, “no.”

“It’s your fault Lena Luthor, all of it is your fault,” the creature said over and over again as it took the shape of all the Superfriends, Sam, Andrea, Lillian and Lex. Then it took Nia’s form and it’s red eyes shifted to purple.

“It wasn’t you Lena,” Nia spoke in a confident whisper, “she never doubted you, she never thought you failed her, she believes in you. We all do.”

Lena stood up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, “Kara?”

The creature screamed as it took the shape of Kara Zor-El. Blue eyes peeked out through the fingers on its face.

“Kara?” Lena’s voice cracked, “we are coming, we are coming to get you.”

“Lena? Lena, you found me?” Kara responded, her eyes brightening and her voice sounding strong.

“We will be there soon, darling. Just hold on a little longer. We are all coming for you,” Lena promised, her green eyes shining.

“Lex is here, Lena. Don’t trust my father,” Kara warned, her blue eyes slowly fading and returning to red. “Be safe Lena, be careful my Zhao.” And then she was gone.

“You failed her again, Lena Luthor,” the creature growled, and floated forward. “I will end you now,”

Lena stepped forward, “do your worst?” She held her hands out, palms facing the creature, but she wasn’t alone. Nia was standing beside her holding her outstretched left hand. She felt a grip in her right and Alex was standing there. Then Brainy, Kelly, J’onn and Eliza stepped forward.

The creature emitted a low growl and continued to move forward, expecting the Superfriends to retreat. When they failed to do so, it stopped and screamed. But the team held its ground, raising weapons and hands, all their considerable power came to bear as they fired away. Dreamer’s energy captured the monster, wrapping it in unbreakable bands of dream energy. The rest continued to flay the creature with whatever weapons they were carrying, watching as it dissolved into mist and disappeared.

>>>The Rescue

The phantom closed in on Kara, forcing the hero to duck and roll towards the other side of the cave. She stood quickly and bumped into Zor-El forcing both of them into the wall. The phantom turned, and was rushing towards them.

Kara pushed her father to the side, shoving him away, as the ghost slammed her into the stone wall, the force of the blow caused her head to crack against the solid surface, which brought stars to the Girl of Steel's eyes. She slid down the wall, the small cavern spinning under her feet. She felt the stone slice through her uniform, hissing as it ripped into her back.

The creature reared back, slicing its claws towards Kara’s face. She ducked, dropping to her side, but in doing so she caught her arm on a rough outcropping, tearing a huge gash in her arm, and leaving a huge smear of blood on the wall.

Lex Luthor stepped behind and grabbed her by the arms, wrenching them up behind her back. “I should have just killed you back in the fortress, but I guess this way, I get you and your friends.” He lifted Kara over his head and tossed her through the opening of the cave.

Kara landed on her back, the pain lancing throughout her body. She rolled over and tried to crawl away, rising to her hands and knees.

Lex, the phantom and her father closed in on her, moving purposely out of the entrance and spreading out.

Kara backed against a large outcropping, pushing herself to her feet. The phantom creature closed in and Kara locked eyes with it, daring it to enter her head. The creature froze, it had never had a willing victim. The pause would be it’s last thought.

Kara looked up as a strange shaped ship blasted through a tear in the void above. Her eyes followed a strange device that plummeted from the sky, landing about fifteen feet away. Lex and her father were so busy watching the ship, they failed to notice how close the device landed and were completely unprepared when it went off…

Pure sunlight washed over Kara and she smiled as she watched Alex and Lena drop from the ship followed by someone else. She felt her cuts start to heal and her muscles stopped aching for the first time in what seemed like forever. She stood tall as Alex dropped in a crouch at her side, the Hand of the Soldier shaping itself into a spear of some sort. Her smile grew even larger as Lena landed, wrapped in some sort of alien armor with her arm wrapped around, Eliza? Kara’s brow crinkled as she shook her head. “Eliza?” She asked, confused.

“I’ll explain later, Kar,” Alex said as she scanned her sister, noting the rips and tears in her uniform, and the blood stains.

The four women turned to face their enemies as Lex spoke, “how nice that you brought the whole family, little sister.”

Lena swallowed, speechless that Lex was actually here, her breathing sped up and her eyes were wide. “Shut up Lex, Lena’s with us, and there is nothing you can say that will ever change that,” Alex growled, as Kara stepped forward and took Lena’s fingers in her palm.

Lena stood up straighter, “Activate!”

Kara looked on impressed as Lena was wrapped in a blue suit of armor, stepping in front of Kara and Eliza.

Alex stepped up beside Lena and the fight was on.

>>>

Zor-El’s eyes became bright red orbs as he focused on Kara and Eliza, his feet lifting off the ground as he floated forward.

“Kara!” Alex yelled, “keep mom safe, Lena and I will handle Lex.”

Kara immediately stepped in front of Eliza, as Lena and Alex shot forward to take on Lex.

“How about we take care of each other, honey?” Eliza asked, as she pulled a collapsible staff from her belt, pressed the button and smiled wickedly as it extended.

Kara dropped into a crouch, her body preparing for the onslaught. “We can do this, he can shapeshift and get into your head.”

“They already tried. They’ve got no power left over us, and you just need to believe in yourself and your family, okay Kara?” Eliza responded, her eyes never leaving the creature, as she started to spin the staff in her hands.

On the other side of the field, Lex fired a rocket at Lena, and watched in anger as Alex brought up her arm, as the Hand formed a shield, deflecting the missile back at him. “Learned that one from my girlfriend, Lex,” as she rolled out of the way.

Lena rolled her eyes inside her helmet, allowing the computer to aim at the Phantom Zone projector on Lex’s back. As the tone sounded, she launched four shots, four different rockets that zoomed towards Lex at high speed. He ducked each one and rolled up to take a shot.

“Missed,” Lex laughed.

“Did she?” Alex said as she came up in front of him and sliced through his missile launcher, watching in satisfaction as it bounced away.

Lex looked confused, then shocked as all four rockets crashed into his back, detonating and tearing the projector to shreds, along with a portion of his armor.

Zor-El shot towards Eliza and was caught by surprise as Kara fired beam after beam of her heat vision at him, burning portions of his robes away. As the last shot struck him in the chest, he veered away from Eliza and focused his attention on Kara.

Kara shot forward to meet him, catching his clawed hands as he brought them down towards her face. “Never underestimate them,” she said as she held the claws back.

“Never underestimate?” the creature asked.

The staff, charged with Nia’s dream energy, came down on the monster’s head, slicing through it and turning it to ash.

“Never underestimate my family,” Kara smiled, then fell to her knees as her energy gave out. Eliza caught her and both women watched as Lex was surrounded by Alex and Lena.

Lex growled, swinging his fist, first at Alex and then at Lena. “I’m going to kill you all, do you understand, all of you.”

Lena placed a kick at the ankle of his suit, listening to the sound of crushed metal, as the boot shattered around Lex’s foot.

The Hand of the Shoulder continued to change in Alex’s skilled hand, removing power supplies with a knife’s edge and blasting away energy cores and other important components one after another.

Lex’s forward momentum stopped as his suit froze, and the maniac found himself trapped as Kara and Eliza joined his sister and Alex. He continued to spit insult after insult at each of the women, until Eliza took a deep breath and walked up to him, reared back and punched him in the nose.

Lex’s head lolled in his suit, his breathing sounding haggard through his broken nose.

An exhausted Kara looked up at the three women, “can--can we go home now?”

All three women smiled at the hero and shook their heads, leading her to the slowly descending ship.

>>>

Reunions

As the group entered the ship, they were approached by the rest of the team. Lena, still suffering from self doubt, broke off and headed towards her station. Eliza watched her go, her eyes full of concern.

Kara was barely holding herself up right, but at the sight of her friends, she opened her arms.

Brainy was the first to reach her, tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms tightly around the Kryptonian. “I missed you, Kara.”

Smiling into his shoulder, Kara whispered, “Me too, Brainy.”

Kelly was next, gently pulling Kara forward, “I took care of her for you.”

“You took care of her for both of us, Kelly. Are you mad?” Kara asked softly.

“Mad about you being Supergirl? No. Mad that you got yourself into this, a little,” she smiled. They worked their way apart, “It’s good to have you back, Kara.” She leaned in and placed a light kiss on Kara’s forehead, “love you, Supergirl.”

J’onn came forward next, and everything he needed to say was conveyed in strong protective arms as they wrapped themselves around the woman he thought of as his own child. Tears fell from his eyes as he kissed the top of her head.

Nia stopped a step away, opening her mouth to speak, tears streaming down her cheeks. Kara stared back, smiling slightly, “come here, little sister.”

Nia crumbled into Kara’s arms, heaving sobs sounding from her throat, “it was you, you came to me.”

“You called, I came,” Kara said into the top of Nia’s head. Her lips brushed the other woman’s temple, “whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you.”

The hug could have lasted hours, when in reality it was just a few minutes. Then it was Eliza’s turn and tears flowed from both women. The older woman crushed the hero to her chest, pouring as much love into the hug as was possible in the moments they had.

Sniffling, Kara looked up into Eliza’s eyes and in that moment, she thanked Rao for the family she had found when she came to Earth.

Alex approached the two women next, wrapping her arms around them both, feeling her sister snuggle closer to her as Eliza pulled away, giving her daughters a moment of their own. The sister’s collapsed to their knees, refusing to let go of one another. Alex peppered Kara’s head with kisses, “she did it Kara. Lena found you. Everything you said about her was right.”

“I get to be right occasionally,” Kara smiled through her tears. “Thank you so much for not giving up on me, for coming after me, for being my big sister.”

“Always,” Alex smiled, her tears streaming down her cheeks as Kara gripped her harder.

>>>

And Then There Were Two

Kara stood up from her knees and made her way towards the striking brunette sitting at the control panel on the far side of the bridge. Unshed tears were filling Lena’s eyes as she focused on the blue eyes that were moving towards her.

Kara finally reached Lena, her breathing and heartbeat loud in her ears.

Lena stood, her hands folded in front of her, fingers twisting, her lower lip grasped tightly between her teeth.

“Hey you,” Kara whispered. “Thank you.”

Words spilled from Lena’s lips, “I’m so, so sorry. I should have known, I tried to find you, Lex is staying. I missed you so…”

Kara chuckled lightly, as tears ran down her cheeks, “Lena, I’m going to kiss you now, and if you will have me, I’m going to spend the rest of my life kissing you and saying thank you for saving me.”

Lena sucked in a breath, but once again words failed her and she simply nodded. Parched lips met hers and she snaked her arms around Kara’s neck, pulling her forward, and deepening the kiss. Kara smiled and sighed as Lena’s tongue flicked over her teeth and pushed its way deeper.

“I missed you, Kara,” Lena smiled as they broke apart.

“I missed you too, Zhao,” Kara said as she leaned in for a second kiss.

>>>

The Tower

The ship docked with the tower, and the crew disembarked, everyone heading towards the medical bay.

As Kara reached the doors, a huge grin came to her face when she noticed Cat and M’gann waiting for her to walk through...

#supercorp #kara x lena #karlena #karadanvers #lenaluthor #fanfiction #comment please #hope you like <3

[pepperpills]

The Harvest - RE8 Fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Notes: heey, so here is Part III, hope you all enjoy it! i'm thinking of starting a new story soon, once this is ended, probably focusing more on world building and Karl and reader relationship hehe

Warning: NSFW content

Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2) Part II - The Lord

Part III – The Hunt

Getting to know the factory turned out to be a fantastic experience. You had never seem so many different paraphernalia in your live, the closer you had ever got to that was when you were a child poking around your dad’s storeroom, but there were only some tools, agriculture products and inherited ornaments from your cabin family – these last ones were your absolute favourite.

Heisenberg’s factory, on the other hand, was full of interesting things, some of them you had no idea what were used for. You even found a suspicious “torture” room, but couldn’t dig into it, once he was nearby. Still, you found his journals narrating his experiments, his audio reports and some guide books on mechanics that had you intrigued for a long time while reading them. He was a madman, you were convinced, but at the same time, that secluded part of you was growing a little each day you explored his life.

Lord Heisenberg was nicer and quieter than you would imagine. He basically lived in his various offices across the factory, mostly he would be trying new mechanisms on bodies and seeing how they reacted with the Cadou, the strange parasite the villagers mentioned only on rare and veiled conversations. As far as it wasn’t you, or your family, lying cold on one of the stretchers, you didn’t care. As a matter of fact, you felt tempted to try some things with the gears yourself as you deepen your studies in his books.

At your first days there, you got worried you would have to share the bed with him, which would be much more proximity than you had ever had with another person. The man had already seen your half naked and that was enough. However, he didn’t sleep there with you and you wondered why, once he so enthusiastically mocked you about it when you arrived. Actually, you started doubting he ever slept at all.

You were still a bit scared, though, never knowing if he would play a prank on you, so you were very careful to avoid him for a while - that didn’t endure –, believing you should give him space to get used to your presence after the mood he got into after your reception.

He was disturbed, indeed. His work was getting closer to a crucial point that involved Mother Miranda. He musted be discreet, but it was proving to be a real trial with Soldats activating and running around as lost beasts. Also, having you around actually gave him a new problem.

Lord Heisenberg would walk around the factory looking for material, testing the Soldats and cursing a lot, some of these swearwords you didn’t even know, but started liking how he used them, almost cartoonish. It was never directed to you, of course. He acted like you weren’t there most of the time, in others, when he was more chilled, with less work to do, he asked “how is the mess at the wing, buttercup?” laughing at you blushing at his indiscreet platonic flirts.

You had to find your way around the factory. That place was a labyrinth and a map would come handy, so you drew it on some clean papers you found lying around, loving not to get lost anymore. You hadn’t been face-to-face to one of his creations yet, just saw them on the production lines on the overview of the factory and on some specific rooms. You also avoided it due to fear.

He told you where the wing to be cleaned was and you found it after an hour. It was so incredibly packed with mechanical parts that you could barely come inside to take a look. Huffing, you thought that he could solve that without moving a muscle. It made you mad, but also made you wonder what you were doing there. You cleaned it anyway, as it was your duty and used that waste to build some minor projects.

At the end of your expedient, your hands were orange because of the rusty irons you were moving all day long and you had little cuts here and there, but nothing really bad. As it was going, it wouldn’t take long for you to finish cleaning and could even decorate it for him, making it feel more like home to you too.

You were liking it there. Of course, it was dusty, grey, sometimes rusty and hot all the time, but it was also very different from everything. Once you said goodbye to the cabins, then to the Village and maybe being away from Miranda’s dominance made you feel lighter.

You found some red fabric lying around somewhere, appearing to be forgotten, made some nature sketches on blank papers and put yellow lights on the bedroom and on Karl’s soon-to-be new working room. It looked cosy. You hoped he would appreciate it when he met the reformed wing, until then, you would keep quiet not to bother him.

Though, shortly after you finished decorating the bedroom, an event destroyed your plans of avoiding Heisenberg. On your daily route to what you would now call your wing, you crossed the kitchen and found an overcoat-less Karl trying to prepare a sandwich. He had any chef’s nightmare happening in that place. There were blunt knives flying around, a metal cup chasing the kettle spilling hot coffee all over the floor as he tried to open a bottle of whiskey and, finally, hot coffee hit Heisenberg’s chest and he screamed and cursed like a sore animal.

“FUCK!” He thundered, his word echoing in the corridor where you stood.

You couldn’t ignore that scene even if you tried. You were getting tired of not talking to him, you lived together now and all your few friends were slowly becoming distant memories. You would be happy to hear his voice, something else than gears rumble, even if it was cursing your predecessors.

As a powerful person, he would try to use his powers to do simple things and do a real mess instead. You felt compelled to give him some support, maybe it was a part of your mother’s care for others that lived in you too. You entered the kitchen headstrong, holding a laugh at his misery looks. Now he was stroking his shirt with a cloth and only noticed you when you were getting around the island.

You didn’t know, however, he never “never noticed” you. He felt your presence at the corridor before you saw him and he felt ashamed of you seeing him failing at a stupid task, and so forth his reaction was to be boorish.

“What?” He asked in a rude tone.

“Just let me help.” You offered, placing your hand in the air between you two. It wasn’t really an offer, you were just being polite, you would help him one way or another, you would have your small talk, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. “Please.” You asked, making the sweeter voice you could.

He huffed and threw the wet cloth on the sink. You took another cloth from one of the drawers – you were getting used to the utensils’ places –, wet it a little with water and looked at him, your head slightly tilted to the right.

“What is it, kitten?” Heisenberg questioned, roughly playful then.

“It is your shirt.” You pointed.

“Yes, it is dirty. Weren’t you trying to help?” He started to lose patience.

“Yeah, I am. It is just… You will have to take it off.” You let it out unpretentiously, although in your mind you were revengeful.

“Oh.” He understood and immediately took it off with so much easiness you wondered how many times he did that when you were so uncertain of it at your first day.

You had never seem him shirtless. To be quite sincere, you hadn’t seen many shirtless men in your life. The Village was a very cold town, once it was deep into a forest in the mountains, so even in the summer there wasn’t a hot weather, so people tended to keep their clothes on. Because of this, when he took it off you instantly blushed at his scarred chest.

He has what you would call a dad body. It isn’t really sinewy, although still very strong with thick arms and defined muscles. He has some belly, which means he isn’t a skinny person, but he isn’t fat also. And maybe you took too long looking at him like that and feeling weird feelings you would think about later that night.

“You’re almost drooling there, buttercup.” He teased you and when you quickly, but gently, started cleaning his chest with the cloth, so you wouldn’t have to answer, he gave up a deliciously loud laugh.

You laughed with him, making him laugh even harder. You didn’t want to admit it, but you liked it, this casual connection between you two. The laugh died a gradual death and you started moving you hand on his chest, feeling its warmth below the cloth. You could almost swear his breathing was getting faster and you saw he was biting his lips, maybe because you were taking too long. You didn’t want to finish, but you both know there wasn’t much coffee on him anyway.

You put the cloth with the other one in the sink and as you watered them, you saw him going to get his shirt that had been laying on the island.

“No, no, no.” You said, taking it from his hands kind brusquely, making him confused. “I need to wash these.”

“I see.” He said, raising his hands to show he wouldn’t try again, as a peace offer that made you grin.

“I can finish your sandwich for you, it will only take a minute.” You added, embarrassed to be so bossy with him.

“I will be at my office.” He told you and left without looking back.

You thought he got mad at you because of the shirt situation. It made you sad, you started having a nice approach. To compensate you made him a really good sandwich with the meat and vegetables you found in the refrigerator. Searching for food there you considered asking him to go see the Duke and buy supplies, maybe even hunt, because you didn’t have enough provisions. Anyway, you also prepared the coffee, poured a glass of cowboy whisky – sipped one, two or three times yourself – and cleaned what was there to be cleaned. It took more than one minute, but less than teen.

You were heading to his office when you heard a muffled noise. It sounded guttural and made you shiver. Electricity running through your body, making you feel hopelessly exposed, only that countered by the alcohol it felt good. You stepped carefully as you got closer to the door. You considered not knocking, but the noise made you knock.

“Just…” He gasped. “Leave it at the door, please.” Heisenberg was painting, but he asking “please” was what made up your mind, that politeness wasn’t usual, so you did what he requested.

You wanted to be around him on that day, but chose to respect his privacy. You didn’t imagine that his mind was blowing with you, he desperately wanted to continue the kitchen talk, but couldn’t give himself the chance once he was so close to perfecting the Soldats.

To ease your thoughts, as you were no longer requested at the factory, you tested your stealth skills and slipped to the forest behind it, caring your bow and arrows determinedly.

You were familiar with that area as you have hunted all around the Village, thus, you knew where to go to find good preys. It was by the lake were the deer stopped to drink water. It was far from the factory entrance, but again, you knew exactly what you were doing. When approaching the lake, you climbed a tree and waited.

It didn’t take long until a lonely deer appeared, unsuspicious. It leaned its head so it could reach the water level and started drinking it. You positioned one arrow, held your breath and did the physics magic. The arrow nailed its left eye. It didn’t scream, it was over very quickly.

You climbed the tree down, came closer to the body and tied it with the rope you brough from the factory. Your way back wasn’t effortless, you were slower due to the extra weight and the lycans sensed its blood, their sounds were all around you. They wouldn’t hurt your, though, somehow, they knew you were with Heisenberg.

It was past four in the afternoon when you reached the factory, panting with the effort of bringing the deer. Heisenberg was poking around for something in his front yard. He noticed you just as you appeared in his peripherical vision. He walked towards you, with an intrigued expression that transformed into an impressed one when he saw the deer.

“Some gifts you have there, kitten, ain’t gonna lie.” He commented, squatting to take a good look at the animal. “How did you do that?” It was clear he didn’t mean to offend, quite the opposite, he was genuinely curious.

“A girl has her secrets.” You answered, when you finally stop panting, shrugging when internally you are fulfilled someone knew about you hunting and didn’t seem mad at you.

He wasn’t even angry you left the factory without his permission, which made you happier. He stood below you with the animal for a few seconds more, than got up on his feed, laid his hands on your shoulders, well, on your skin hunting jacket, and said “You are really something, kitten.”

You fell for his words. You never wanted to feel that dependant on someone’s appreciation for you, but with him it was lighter. Karl took the weight of the world off your shoulders by bringing you there and kind off supporting you even though you had only spent little more than a month together.

“Thank you, my lord.” You spoke.

“Stop it. Call me Karl.” He said roughly, but good hearted. “Now, do you know how to clean this deer?” Heisenberg asked.

Usually, Duke would do it for you, although you knew the theory, you hadn’t much practice.

“I was hoping you could help me with it, Karl.” You suggested, toasting him a malicious smile.

“For fuck’s sake.” But he cursed laughing.

He cleaned this table at the garage and disposed the deer there. You helped him doing the messy job, learning with him what you only saw the Duke doing. It wasn’t pretty, but you were comforted by his presence and obstinacy. He probably did it often as it showed, but didn’t bother to take it slower so he could teach you.

Heisenberg enjoyed that night more than you could imagine. He didn’t care for the Soldats, they could wait, it was nice being around you for a change, not running away from your hair, your smile, your presence. For the first time in his life, he actually had someone who wanted to be around him.

Later your prepared venison, demi-glace, potatoes, a fresh arugula salad and both of your enjoyed dinner at the kitchen island with bottles of dark beer. He was funny, he was tripping over words a little, due to the alcohol, but his stories, oh man… He was a real brat. You told him about the cabins and the hunting. He listened carefully, never judging you and laughed at your silly manners, at your etiquette and, over all, loved your cook.

He slept in the bed with you, tired, amused and drunk, he sunk in his dreams. You stayed up a bit longer, resisting your lazy eyes temptations just to appreciate his scent, it would smell like burned wood.

#resident evil #re8 #karl heisenberg #re village #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 village #heisenberg #heisendaddy #heisenberg resident evil #resident evil viii #resident evil 8 fanfic #original post #resident evil village #re8 karl heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #fanfic #re fanfic #the harvest

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

Jim was startled awake by the buzzing of the intercom and could barely keep back a yawn as he dragged himself off the sofa and sloped towards the front door, his “quick kip” having turned into an hour-long nap. He wondered who would be visiting this time of the day. Freddie was away doing a photoshoot and Khaleel was at school, so he hadn’t been expecting any visitors.

‘Who is it?’ He mumbled sleepily into the intercom.

‘It’s me.’ A familiar voice replied.

Mary had started making a habit of popping around in the afternoon, even if she knew Freddie wasn’t there. Jim would make her a cup of tea and they would sit in the kitchen or the garden, chatting for a couple of hours. It seemed to be her way of extending an olive branch, and as odd as he sometimes found her, Jim was happy enough to oblige; having Mary as a friend was preferable to the hostility that once existed between them.

But when Mary stepped through the front door, Jim immediately sensed that something was amiss. The woman looked nervous, clutching a large carrier bag in her hands as her eyes darted around the hallway with uncertainty, like she was expecting a tiger to spring out of nowhere.

‘It’s lovely to see you.’ Jim took one of her hands in his own and pressed a kiss against her cheek, which seemed to pacify her, if only slightly. ‘Is everything alright?’

Mary hesitated, before giving him a rather forced smile. ‘Yes, everything’s fine.’ She glanced around again. ‘Freddie’s not here, is he?’

‘He has a photoshoot today.’

‘Oh, yes. Of course he does.’

Jim frowned, his thumb extending to gently stroke her knuckles reassuringly. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

She seemed tempted to lie again but must have realised that doing so would be pointless. She sighed and gave Jim’s hand a squeeze. ‘I need to talk to you about something.’

Jim took her through to the lounge, calling for Phoebe to put the kettle on for them all. He sat on one of the sofas beside Mary, noting how she fiddled with the carrier bag before setting it at her feet. Whatever was in it seemed to be the source of her discomfort.

‘Freddie’s parents have been in contact with me.’ She finally announced, taking Jim by surprise.

‘Ah.’ The Irishman now understood why she had been so wary about Freddie being present. ‘I see.’

‘I didn’t say anything because I knew Freddie would hit the roof if he found out I’ve been speaking to them. But they were desperate for my help and I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘You could have said no.’ Jim muttered, though he immediately felt like an ass when he saw Mary cringe with guilt. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But he’s cut them off for a reason, Mary. They almost cost us our son.’

‘I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Jim.’ Her cheeks went pink and for a moment Jim was worried she might cry. ‘What they did to you and Freddie was unforgiveable. But they really regret their actions. They just want to talk to Freddie, tell him they’re sorry, explain.’

‘I don’t want to hear their explanations and neither does Freddie.’ Jim replied firmly. ‘There’s nothing to discuss. They did what they did, and there’s nothing they can say or do to redeem themselves. I know you’re just trying to help, Mary, but they’ve hurt Freddie enough. I won’t stand by and let them do it again. You tell them that if they truly care about Freddie, they’ll stay away.’

Mary nodded sadly. ‘I had a feeling you’d say that. I can’t say I blame you. Jer and Bomi have always been good to me but sometimes I think they blame me for not keeping Freddie “in check” so to say. Honestly, at times it felt as though they expected me to wave a bloody magic wand and just stop their son from being gay.’

‘They’re products of their time.’ Replied Jim with a sigh. ‘They’re good people, but if they can’t accept Freddie for who he is, then they can’t be a part of his life. Freddie’s tired of leading a double life, having to pretend he’s something he’s not for their comfort. His illness made him realise that life is too short to live by other people’s standards. I had hoped his parents would understand that but clearly they don’t.’

Silence overcame the pair, only interrupted when Phoebe walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits. The three of them fell into pleasant conversation for the next few hours, though Jim could tell that Mary had been upset by the whole ordeal and he made a point of holding her hand to comfort her. After Phoebe cleared away the dishes and retired to the conservatory, Jim escorted Mary to the front door, his eye falling upon the plastic carrier bag that she was still clinging to like a lifeline.

‘What’s in the bag?’ He enquired, ignoring his mother’s voice at the back of his mind reprimanding him for being nosy.

With great hesitation, Mary reached into the bag and pulled out a large baby blue quilt, holding it up so Jim could see. It appeared to be hand-knitted, embroidered with floral patterns and tiny white birds. In the middle, the word BIJOU had been sewn in thick, calligraphed letters.

‘Khaleel’s blanket.’ Jim observed, feeling his heart sink to the bottom of his ribcage.

‘She wants him to have it.’ Mary said softly, her eyes slightly moist. ‘In case she never gets to see him again.’

Jim knew that he should turn it down. He wasn’t going to be manipulated into feeling sorry for his in-laws, especially after everything that had happened. But he remembered the look of excitement on Khaleel’s face whenever he came back from Dādī and Dādā’s house and gleefully updated him on the progress of his new blanket. The child would sit and watch Jer knit for hours, following every rise and dip of the needle as if he was in a trance. Even two years later, he still asked about the blanket, confused as to why Dādī hadn’t finished it yet, why they never went around to Jer and Bomi’s for tea at the weekend anymore. Denying his poor boy the last remaining tie to his beloved grandparents seemed unacceptably cruel.

‘Thank you, Mary.’ Jim took the blanket, folding it up with the greatest of care. ‘I appreciate you telling me. I wish this could have turned out differently.’

‘Me too.’ Mary replied. ‘I’m sorry, Jim. Please, tell Freddie I’m sorry too.’

--

Jim had just sent Khaleel up to brush his teeth when he heard keys turning in the front door and the familiar sound of his husband’s voice calling, ‘darling, I’m home!’

He sighed, pulling out the blanket from where he had hidden it in the drinks cabinet and smoothed it out on the sofa, preparing himself for the row that was inevitably coming his way.

‘You won’t believe the day I’ve had.’ Freddie drawled as he glided into the lounge. ‘Roger came in with a raging hangover, so we all had to wait until he’d drank a litre of coffee before we-’

He cut off as soon as he noticed the blanket, the smile immediately disappearing from his face. Jim expected him to start screaming and shouting right then and there but he didn’t say a word. He seemed frozen, so shocked he couldn’t utter a syllable.

When he finally did speak, his voice was low and dangerous. ‘What the hell is that doing here?’

‘Mary brought it over.’ Jim said calmly. ‘Your mother gave it to her to give to Khaleel. She wants him to have it.’

More silence. Freddie wasn’t often left speechless, but right now he seemed genuinely lost for words. Jim could only imagine what was going through his head; all the suppressed memories that were suddenly resurfacing, coiling around his brain like a venomous snake.

‘Get rid of it.’ Freddie whispered.

‘We can’t keep this from him.’ Jim replied, being mindful not to raise his voice. ‘You know how much this blanket means to Khaleel. If he ever finds out we kept it from him, he’ll never forgive us.’

‘I want it gone!’ Freddie snapped, hands balling into fists like a stubborn child. ‘Why the fuck did you accept it? Why the fuck did Mary bring it? Who the hell does she think she is?’

He abruptly turned and started marching towards the phone, grabbing the handset, and stabbing at the buttons furiously.

‘Freddie, what are you doing?’

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ Freddie growled, ‘I’m going to give that backstabber a piece of my mind! Hello, Piers? Put Mary on the phone. I don’t care if she’s asleep, put her on the phone right now-!’

‘Freddie!’ Jim snatched the handset and slammed it back on the receiver, startling the Persian man. ‘Don’t blame Mary for this. Your parents put her in an awkward position, and she did what she thought was right. I understand why you’re upset, and you have every right to be! But don’t take it out on her.’

Freddie scoffed. ‘Since when are you two the best of friends? She knows what my parents did to us, yet she’s willing to do their dirty work for them.’

‘She was just trying to help. She thought this might help you reconcile with them if you saw how much they care.’

‘If they really cared about me, they would have come themselves; instead, they’re using my ex-girlfriend as a fucking middleman!’

‘You know I resent them as much as you do, but we can’t go on lying to Khaleel forever. He hasn’t seen his grandparents in two years, Freddie. He’s always asking when we’re going to see Dādī and Dādā again, and I can barely look him in the eye when I use the old “they’re busy” excuse. One day, he’s going to find out what really happened, and he’ll resent us for not telling him the truth.’

‘And how the hell do you explain to a seven-year-old that his own grandparents don’t value him as much as his cousins because he’s adopted, and his parents are poofs? Please tell me Jim because I’d love to know! You don’t think I want to tell him the truth? Do you think I enjoy lying to his face whenever he asks about them? I’m so glad you have such a high opinion of me, darling!’

Freddie’s dark eyes swivelled to the blanket, sparkling with tears, and filled with hate; he suddenly grabbed it, making a beeline for the fireplace only to be intercepted by Jim.

‘Freddie, don’t.’ Jim begged, his grip firm on the blanket, though he made sure not to pull it in fear that it might tear. ‘Don’t do it. You’ll never forgive yourself.’

‘Fuck off!’ Freddie spat, tugging in an effort to get it out of Jim’s hands. ‘I don’t want any trace of those people in my house! If you truly loved me, you’d understand!’

Jim froze, his hold on the blanket loosening. Then he released it altogether.

‘Fine.’ He said coldly, in a voice that made Freddie feel like a ghost had passed through him. ‘Go ahead. Burn the damn thing. But when Khaleel asks me when his blanket is coming, I’m not going to lie to him anymore. You can explain to him that you tossed it into the fire. So, go ahead. Do it.’

Freddie stared at the flames determinedly, Jim’s words doing somersaults in his head. His fingers itched to just throw the quilt and watch it burn but picturing the look of heartbreak on Khaleel’s face deterred him from doing so.

‘Fuck.’ He hissed, tearing away from the fireplace, and fleeing the lounge.

Fucking Jim, he thought as he tore up the staircase, swearing under his breath as he made it to the landing and stormed towards the airing cupboard, fucking fucking Jim.

He threw open the cupboard door and was about to bundle the blanket behind the towels when he noticed the words that had been sewn into it.

BIJOU

Tears pooled into Freddie’s eyes. Almost instinctively, he brought the blanket close to his face and softly inhaled. It smelled of lavender and the spices Mama used for cooking. It smelled like home.

Freddie furiously wiped his eyes and shoved the blanket right into the far end of the cupboard.

Part 34 of the Jimercury kid series

Oof, you weren't lying when you said that angst was on its way for our favourite family. Firstly, Freddie's parents reaching out to Mary and trying to make her act like a pacifier, instead of say, Kash, is very plausible, especially after Kash's indirect involvement in the entire fiasco.

This is honestly such a tough decision for Freddie, and Jim too. No matter how big an olive branch his parents extend, the shadow of their actions will always loom over their relationship. I really feel for our two dads. And it's definitely not an easy thing to explain to Khaleel, either. But should they give it a shot? Or is it better to keep from their son the fact that his grandparents were the cause of his trauma?

I just love how well you're able to convey the emotions of your characters in such few words. I could not only see, but also feel their pain, and oof... hats off to you for being so evocative with your words.

I really cannot wait to see what happens next💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #anon writing #freddie and jim and their baby

[felidaefighter]

What Fate Cannot Burn

[Written before Niki had the news broken to her by the Syndicate; starfate is a platonic soulmate/best friend relationship, coined from @ufuckingpastry and their amazing fics! My wonderful friend and beta-reader @voidofthestars​ also has amazing fics with the term!]

Niki and Fundy don’t want to call themselves starfated, thinking it too cruel with their pasts. But someone has to break the news about Wilbur’s revival to Niki. They have a chat.

     Fate, it seemed, had always been against Niki and Fundy. Perhaps that was why they had always danced around their courtship, never solidifying anything as pale, never calling themselves starfated. The two had grown up together, embraced by the blackstone walls of L’Manberg. They had fought for their freedom and pets together, they had survived famine together-- they had, despite all their hurt, forgiven the traitor who raised them together. They had campaigned together, side by side, sharing ideals and morals and an understanding that they refused to color. They had also watched everything they’d been raised as, the ideals they were taught, had believed with all their heart, crumble with the walls to reveal the harsh truth of what was buried underneath, deeper than the TNT that waited amongst its foundations.

    Manburg did horrible things to its people. One of the worst things it did was destroy the pale courtship of Niki and Fundy. Fundy, coddled yet abandoned, desperate for love with no cornerstones to ground him, stayed loyal to the place that had been promised him, rather than its ideals. Niki fell the opposite way, and had screamed to the sky as the trust for her moonstruck-companion evaporated into the sky with the smoke of the flag she had sewn with her own two hands, with the symbol of everything they had ever fought for. Even the steady, parental hand of Eret could not calm the pain she had felt as she lost the relationship she never dared to name to a tyrant’s command. Eret could never understand. Only those in L’Manberg knew true betrayal. As it had always been.

    After the war, L’Manberg just wasn’t the same. And neither were two of its youngest citizens. Not just for the way that Niki couldn’t so much as look at Fundy without seeing the burning flag, or the way that Fundy couldn’t look at Niki without knowing she truly thought he would be so willing to side with Schlatt. Because Wilbur was dead, and Wilbur had been everything. Wilbur had been the embodiment of L’Manberg, and he had killed it, just as he’d killed himself. Because he was Fundy’s dad and Niki’s friend and he would rather destroy himself and the nation he had built than let them have it. Neither of them really knew who to blame or where to turn. But they didn’t turn to eachother. No matter how much their hearts ached and how they could read one another in a single glance, even now, they turned away. Fate had never been kind to them. They refused to give it one more thing to tear away.

    Even amongst the crowd after Dream had promised annihilation on L’Manberg, they didn’t speak to one another, didn’t make eye contact. And as the next day they watched their home, the place that bore every footprint and memory from their childhood, turn to rubble beneath their feet, they exchanged not a word, but a silent understanding as the two stood together and Niki herself burned the last roots they had to the doomed nation that would never again fail them as it had so many times before. Together they mirrored one of the men who had raised them, and saluted in heavy silence as a final goodbye.

    And with no more roots to hold them to a place they could no longer call home, Niki and Fundy parted. Niki tried to tell herself she didn’t care where Fundy had gone, and in time her moonstruck feelings were buried under the mountains of rage and grief and resentment that had piled on over the years with no true outlet. To Niki’s surprise, she found a companion who shared not just her resentment, but her childhood home-- it seemed that she and Jack shared a quartz-colored heart, so they claimed themselves a duo and started working together. It was nice. It was almost starfated. They shared goals and even acknowledged it as courting.

    But as Niki started to find herself and move on from the endless pain, no longer focusing on the harm of others but on the healing of herself, she found what everyone who seeks a cornerstone relationship eventually finds to be true: When resentment for the same thing is the only thing shared, there can never be true peace or trust or understanding between them-- not when one moves on and the other sits in their pain and anger. After a heartbreaking discussion, Jack and Niki ended their courtship, all the more pained for having known it as such. Niki’s pale heart sang for the loss of Jack, and she found herself missing the quiet understanding that she and Fundy, even at their worst, even angered to the core at one another, had shared. It was a feeling that could not be replaced. She ached for all she had lost, but knew she could not sit in her pain. She moved forward. She found ideals that suited her and were not thrust upon her. She harvested wheat, made flour, made dough. She baked.

-----

    Niki had stopped work on the city for the night, closing the door to her own living space within the cavern walls and sighing. She put a kettle on the stovetop, preparing to relax. Most of her day had been spent acclimating new refugees from other areas of the land into the city, cataloguing how many of the pre-made apartments had been taken and attempting to calculate what would need to go into the expansion. The city and citizens were getting used to one another, so to speak, and Niki was rather proud of how beautiful it all was. The only thing they really needed more of was chunks of ice; caves were kept at such a consistent temperature that any baking or cooking needed an outside interference, since they couldn’t just open a window to cool off their apartment. Niki was so wrapped up in her thoughts about the day that she almost didn’t hear the short, timid knock on her door.

    “Coming! I’m coming!” She called, rushing up to the door. In her defense, she hadn’t exactly been expecting visitors-- she opened the door and stood in minor shock-- especially not this one. “Fundy…?” Niki asked softly, surprise coloring her words. Ears flattened back against his head and fidgeting with his own padded fingers, Fundy stared at the ground, hardly even glancing up at her. “Hey, Niki.” She… she didn’t know what to say. This was the first they’d spoken to one another in what seemed like years. She knew what to do, though. Niki opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Please, Fundy, come in!” Fundy hesitatingly stepped inside-- he finally looked at her, and it was with such a pure expression of feeling lost that it made her almost want to take him into her arms, run her hands through his fur and soothe his aches-- a feeling that startled her, that she hadn’t felt since she broke off her alliance with Jack.

    She couldn’t bring herself to do that, though. It had been too long and there was too much unspoken. Instead, she decided on practicality. “What brings you here, Fundy? Do you need a home? We still have a few apartments that aren’t taken,” Niki said, attempting to anticipate his needs. “Nooo, it’s not that…” Fundy replied, drawing out his words, and Niki gave the fox hybrid a patient smile. He’d always had trouble articulating bad news-- that was okay. She didn’t have anywhere she needed to be for the rest of the night. She gestured to the sofa, and Fundy took a seat, sitting on the edge as if he didn’t belong and might need to bolt at any second. Niki was grateful she’d started making tea; there wound up being just enough for one cup each. She handed one to Fundy and his ears flicked in silent thanks.

    Niki sipped her tea as Fundy stared straight into his. “I wanted to find you because, well, I think… I think you should know.” Niki gave a soft questioning hum, encouraging him to continue. “So… y’know Wil… my dad… your friend… he died…” Niki frowned a little. If it had to do with Wilbur-- her heart ached, and she felt a kinship with Fundy in that moment. She knew. She did. “Yes,” Niki answered quietly, “I know. It’s been-- it’s been a long time since his death. It’s been hard. What happened, Fundy? Has something new come up?” Fundy’s yellow eyes flicked up and met Niki’s own, filled with grief and confusion. His gaze softened, remembering that they had, in fact, been-- almost been. He relaxed a little more into his seat, but he kept his hesitant and uncomfortable expression.

    Foxes don’t like to go in straight lines when they travel, and neither did Fundy like to speak in one. “So… something happened, at the prison, with Wilbur’s ghost… he was there with Tommy… and Dream…” Niki stiffened a little bit at both the names, and decided to hold off on her confusion about a ghost. “Because Dream has this revive book, right? So Dream… he threatened to Tommy to bring Wil back… apparently Sam fucked up…” Niki furrowed her eyebrows, desperately attempting to not become aggravated. It was a lot of non-information. “Fundy, what are you saying right now? What happened?” She asked, needing clarity. Fundy sighed, straightened up, and looked at her with a sudden focus to his gaze. “Dream… Dream brought Wilbur back. Wilbur is alive again. Tommy and Tubbo and Ranboo have all seen him-- I told Phil and I think he might be with him now.” He stared at Niki, tail twitching nervously.

    Niki was frozen. She held her teacup in a strange, mid-sip position, as if time for her had stopped before she took the action. “Wilbur is… back?” She asked, voice shaky in disbelief. “How?” Fundy shrugged helplessly. “I… the revive book, I guess. It’s real-- apparently Dream guinea pig-tested it on Tommy and it’s real. And now Wil is back. He’s alive again. Good ‘ole… Wilbur…” Fundy trailed off as it sank into both of them. Wilbur. God, what had he become? In Pogtopia? The dark ravine where the resistance gathered, the desolation that drove him to destroy his own home and force his father into an assisted suicide. Wilbur, when he had died, was not the man they knew and loved growing up in the safety of L’Manberg’s blackstone walls. Niki set her teacup down and watched it grow cold.

    Screwing together her eyes, Niki took a deep breath to steady herself and made a decision. She picked her teacup back up and took a sip-- it wasn’t yet lukewarm. Fundy, seeing her do so, did the same. “I don’t know how I feel about that,” Niki finally admitted. “Yeah,” Fundy agreed-- there in his voice was the telltale shake of an almost-laugh, done in nervousness, and it dawned on Niki that it was a family trait that he shared with Phil. “Phil will be happy, at least,” She posited, and Fundy agreed. “Yeah. He seemed hopeful. Wil-- he said Wil lied to him about the elections. I don’t really… know what that means.”

    Niki put a hand on Fundy’s shoulder. “Maybe… maybe you aren’t the only one who just wants his dad to be proud of him,” Niki offered with a small, empathetic smile. Fundy let out a very strange noise that was partly a sigh, partly a groan, and partly a sob. “I guess.” But she could tell he knew she was right. “Wilbur is…” Here, Niki tried to piece together her own thoughts. “Wilbur is a very complicated man with very complicated morals and relationships. He was our friend, and he hurt people-- but he was hurting too. I don’t know what death is like. I don’t know what being dead for so long would change him to be like.” Fundy, despite the somber mood, was relaxing a little-- and Niki, to her own surprise, found herself doing the same. He enthusiastically agreed with her description of complexity. It was definitely true.

    Niki took another big, courageous breath. One step at a time. She knew how to do this. “But if there’s anything I’ve learned lately, it’s that we cannot stop living our lives because of something like this. We can’t let ourselves become overwhelmed and paralyzed because of one big emotion. It isn’t good for us. It isn’t good for anyone.” Her grief, the loss of L’Manberg. The rage at Tommy and the feeling of entitlement, that if they just got an apology they could move on-- but not before that, never before that. The ache she felt, that shooting star that almost could have been before Jack sank himself so deep into rage it made him mad that she wasn’t drowning in it too. All of it came pouring out of her in that moment, like an overflowing cup that had finally finally been allowed to spill over. She might have been crying. Fundy’s eyes, too, shimmered with the same pain and understanding.

    “What do we… what do we do, then?” He asked, voice ragged as if he’d been holding back the tears that were now being blinked away for years (he had). “What do we even do? What can we do?” He nearly shouted it, desperation leaking from his voice. Niki sniffled, wiped away her eyes, picked up the empty teacups and brought them into the kitchen. Fundy followed, a familiar feeling to it all. “We can… well…” She set the cups down gently, turning to Fundy. He looked ready to listen to anything, about then. Gods above, the two of them had missed eachother more than they’d ever be able to put into words, huh.

    Suddenly, Niki smiled warmly, and Fundy picked up the nostalgia on her mind. “Do you remember, way back in the old days? When L’Manberg had its walls?” Fundy looked at her inquisitively, but his ears were perking slowly as realization started to find its way into his head. “I remember a lot of things from back then,” He said-- and it was true, they both did. The phrase pale danced around her head, the word starfate itched at her heart. “When I was stressed out,” She recalled, opening cabinets and drawers and handing things to Fundy-- who was arranging things in a specific way, but didn’t seem to realize he was operating on muscle memory or he would’ve known where she was going with it-- “Or when I wanted to create something. I would go down to the docks, because--”

    “Your bakery,” Fundy realized. “I do remember that.” Fundy looked down at his paws, realizing he was mid-measure and, subsequently, losing his place. “Oh god I think I fucked it up,” he muttered under his breath-- and Niki laughed, pleasant and happy. “You were doing fine, Fundy. It’s the last scoop of flour,” she reassured him. As Fundy muttered about the quality of the cake and Niki started measuring the other ingredients, she tried to clarify what she had initially been getting at. “For a long time, I was swallowed with anger,” she explained. “Anger about everything that had happened, because it was so unfair. But it wasn’t anyone’s fault. There was nobody to be angry at. The only person it was hurting was me.” And Jack. Jack’s own anger was hurting him, too. She swallowed down the broken shell of quartz that memory made her feel.

    “So you just… stopped being angry?” Fundy asked, genuinely trying to wrap his mind around it. Niki shook her head. “I don’t think it’s quite like that. I just needed to focus on myself, instead of what others had done. Do what I like and try to think for myself instead of just believing everything everyone else told me to.” What Wilbur had told her. What Wilbur had told them. She shook her head a little to clear her thoughts. L’Manberg had been good, but… it was never perfect. Not the way they were taught it was. “I guess I get what you mean,” Fundy said, and Niki felt enveloped by the sense of understanding that came with being with Fundy. He knew her just as she knew him, and even limited in their words they could communicate to one another what they meant. Even after all this time, it seemed they wouldn’t fall apart that easily, that they were two of the same according to fate.

    “It seems hard, though,” Fundy said, setting a glass bowl on the counter. Niki furrowed her eyebrows again thoughtfully. “It is hard. It’s better than being miserable all the time though.” Fundy jiggled the bowl as Niki poured the mixture, evening it out so it would cook properly. Fundy opened the oven door, and Niki slid the cake in. “I guess I am pretty tired of being miserable,” Fundy agreed with a hesitant chuckle. “That’s the spirit!” Niki exclaimed, grinning at him. Fundy laughed properly this time, three short bursts that sounded from his chest, and grinned back at her. “Hey, if you say so. It’s not much though. It’s really, really not.”

    “Nooo it’s good, it’s a good start! You have to start somewhere, Fundy,” Niki encouraged, and Fundy just shook his head, laughing ever so slightly. “I dunno, I mean… kinda hard to do when I don’t have a home and none of my friends talk to me anymore and Wilbur is suddenly alive again.” Niki looked at him sympathetically. “You could start by doing something that makes you happy. What do you like doing, Fundy?” Fundy stared awkwardly around the kitchen. “...Eating cake,” He offered with a hesitant giggle. Niki giggled in turn. “Well,” Niki said, “Lucky for you, if you stay here for a little bit you can do that pretty soon.”

    “I don’t know what I’m going to do after that,” Fundy said, turmoil in his heart too easily stirred, “But yeah. I’d like that.” He absently started wiping down the counter, old routine still embedded into them both, and Niki stared at him, gaze lingering for a moment. Looking at him now, she could see how his ginger fur didn’t shine the way it used to, how his ears were in a constant flicked-back state of distress. They’d both been uprooted when L’Manberg was destroyed, but it seemed he may have been left far more unmoored than she had. She wanted to groom his fur. She wanted to hold him until his tension was gone and his ears perked up bright and happy. She wanted to get rid of the ache in her chest and the ache in his. She wanted to get rid of the way her heart sang moonlit songs around him, despite it having been years. She wanted-- she wanted him to stay. Just for a little bit.

    Niki started to get out the frosting. “Stay here for a few nights,” she said unprompted, “In the city I mean. While you sort out your thoughts. I know I’ll need to sort out mine too. Maybe--” And here, she hesitated-- “Maybe we can try and sort them out together.” It was an invitation of vulnerability that neither of them had in a long, long time. Fundy stopped what he had been doing to stare at her; Niki vehemently ignored his gaze to continue focusing on the task at hand. He thought for a moment, and she hoped desperately he wasn’t thinking about the implications. “I’d like that,” he finally answered, quiet and truthful. “That would-- yeah. That would be nice.”

    “Well,” Niki said to fill the awkward silence that had sprouted after that, “One thing at a time. First you’re going to help me frost this cake when it’s ready.” Fundy laughed and agreed. And Niki thought about what she’d said to Jack, and what it had really meant. Baking again. Trying to heal despite it all. And she thought about the fox hybrid next to her, who, despite all his troubles, was baking too. L’Manberg was gone forever-- it was never coming back. Even if Wilbur did. And, well. Neither of those things had been quite what they had seemed. Places were gone and people had changed. Some for the better. Some for the worst. Some just… different, in inexplicable, unattainable ways. In ways that couldn’t be reached.

    But Niki was slowly realizing that not everything was gone. Fundy was still here, in her kitchen, baking with her. And in as many ways as she couldn’t figure out how to feel about Wilbur being alive again, she was grateful for one tiny thing about it. That it had brought Fundy to her doorstep. That she could share cake with someone who shared a quartz-colored heart with her. Maybe-- maybe it was fate.

    With the quiet hum of the oven being the only sound in the small apartment, Niki leaned against Fundy’s shoulder, feeling the soft fur of his neck against her cheek and hearing it squish against the fabric of his jacket. Fundy carefully put an arm around her and placed his chin on her head. “Yeah, I missed you too,” He murmured. Niki let out a heaving sigh and let herself sink into the warmth. And they still couldn’t call themselves starfated-- not after everything. Not yet. But for a moment, tucked away in a small apartment, hiding in the rising scent of cake and the warmth of an oven, they could feel it; they could know it. They understood one another. And, just like when they were kids-- for now, that was enough.

#mcyt fanfic #niki nihachu #fundy #long post #dreamsmp #they write #it is slightly angsty but i think it has a sorta happy ending at least

[unsaidholland]

we’ll be alright | h. holland

surprise?

was this inspired by still by niall horan? yes, yes it was. stream heartbreak weather.

warnings: sad (we been knew)

somehow everything had gotten out of control. it was as if they were trying to guide a tornado into a mason jar. everything was destroyed, broken, and neither of them were seeing eye to eye anymore. nothing would ever be the same to them, not as she and harry were on the verge of breaking up. 

there was nothing left to salvage but broken bits and pieces of a love that was once so strong and immensely passionate. maybe it was broken to begin with, a small hairline fracture being the only damage they started with, but it didn’t erase the ending. it killed the both of them to endure this fighting. the living room had turned into a warzone, and there was no ceasefire being called. there was just the two of them, on opposite sides, both physically and in battle. they were both too full of pride to apologize, but they still wanted things to end happily.

harry couldn’t believe how angry the two of them had become and how quickly everything had escalated. they were so far away from how tranquil the relationship was, so far away from the beginning. they were getting closer to the end, and both of them knew it was coming. though, neither of them wanted to escape from the pain they were inflicting on each other. 

“it’s like nothing i do even matters to you anymore,” she said, voice shaking from the tears threatening to spill. she didn’t even know what they were fighting about anymore, and neither did he, but neither of them wanted to admit that maybe they both were overreacting, that maybe they miscalculated each others’ words. 

“of course everything you do matters to me,” harry responded. he didn’t even know what the argument was going to leave him with, but he was hoping that he’d be left with something. 

they went back and forth for hours, only giving up when they both decided they were tired. the one-bedroom apartment felt much smaller, no escape from the arguments, but with harry set to sleep in the large queen-sized bed, while she was laying on the grey couch, it felt like they were miles and miles apart. it felt like they were only getting further and further away from their destination, taking every wrong turn, leading them to the middle of nowhere.

harry’s eyes wandered across the ceiling, trying to rearrange the thoughts flowing through his mind. he wondered how he was going to make it up to her. sure it was going to be difficult, but he would find a way - he always found a way. 

as harry was searching through his mind for ideas of how he was going to make it up to y/n, she was sat on the couch gazing out of the window. the midnight sky was dark and cloudless, allowing the stars to shine. she couldn’t help but notice that the stars weren’t shining as bright as they used to, maybe it was the argument bringing her mood down, or maybe they never shone as bright as she remembered. with the white sherpa blanket covering her legs, and her elbows resting along the back of the grey couch, y/n continued to wonder what she and harry had turned into. it seemed as if they were constantly fighting. maybe the house they had built was made of paper, so fragile that it was never supposed to last, or maybe they were destroying everything from the inside out. y/n couldn’t figure it out, and she supposed she wouldn’t ever figure it out. 

y/n wanted so desperately for them to just go back to the basics, he loved her, and she loved him. she wanted to rid their relationship of the complications of travelling for work, their schedules, and how they just didn’t align anymore. if they loved each other, then why were they constantly fighting? y/n stayed up until the twilight adorned the sky once again as it did every morning, and she got no sleep, too stressed about what she and harry were turning into.

•••

harry woke up midday. the sun was well up at the apex of the sky, and harry’s brown eyes adjusted to the light that was shining into his bedroom through the sheer white curtains. he rubbed his eyes, blinded by the light, and immediately realized the first step he needed to take to make it up to y/n was making her food. he knew it was the key to getting time to just sit with her and spend time with her, so as soon as he was awake enough, he strolled to the kitchen and got the ingredients out for their meal. though it was midday, harry knew she would want breakfast food, so he got out their waffle maker and began on the batter.

their meal was almost done when harry realized that she would’ve wanted tea to go along with it, so he boiled water in the kettle, and making her the tea that y/n saved for special occasions. she loved tea, and their cupboards were filled with different brands and flavours, many unopened. she collected them for when she wanted to spice things up, but in this case, harry knew y/n would need something to cheer her up. 

he set the dining table up so they were sitting across from one another, hoping that y/n would want to have a meal with him and pretend they were okay. maybe if they pretended hard enough, it wouldn’t feel fake and they would go back to normal. 

as harry placed the cups of tea down in front of their respective place settings, he looked over to where his girlfriend was sleeping, just meters away from where he was standing, but he still felt so far away from her. how did they get there in the first place? how did they leave each other stranded on separate deserted islands, left with nothing but their love the want for each other. to harry, y/n felt so out of reach and the good parts of the relationship too felt out of reach. he wanted to get back there, but he just didn’t know how. 

y/n looked at peace as she slept, and it was one of the first times harry had seen her so calm, but he also couldn’t help but notice the tear stains that adorned her cheeks. the copper, curly-haired boy couldn’t help but notice the guilt that was running through his veins. she was so calm when she didn’t notice he was around. he hoped that she was dreaming of him. harry hoped she was dreaming of the house they wanted to buy, the dog they wanted to adopt, and the life they wanted to have - but they couldn’t have that life, and harry was no stranger to that realization. in admitting that, he realized they had to have that conversation. the conversation that could either rebuild everything or destroy it further. harry hoped that the latter was just an option and not their fate, and he said a quick prayer to whoever was above that he wouldn’t lose the best person to have ever entered his life.

harry was blessed with so many opportunities. getting to travel around the world for his work, and always being away from the place he called home was one of the reasons the relationship had began to crumble in the first place, and he knew that. he just couldn’t give up his home. he knew that home wasn’t supposed to be a person, but a place where you could truly be yourself, but harry couldn’t help feeling at home wherever he was so long as he was with you. 

he began to wake her up, thumb caressing her cheeks. harry watched as her eyes began to flutter open, the confused expression painting her face.

“it’s half past noon, but i made us breakfast,” he whispered for her to hear, a hopeful smile appearing on his face. she nodded and sat up. harry sat next to her, wanting to hug her, but not knowing how y/n would feel about that.

“what’d you make?” she asked as she pulled the blanket closer to her body as if it was her final layer of protection against him. the ceasefire had been called, but for all y/n knew, they were still both at war, and she wasn’t planning on taking any chances.

“made us waffles, put some fruit on the side the way you like it, and then i also made bacon and tea.” he was quick to add, “ i made you the special one you always save for special occasions because i know you would’ve wanted it if i didn’t make it.” a soft smile appeared on y/n’s face, the small gesture already seeming to make her feel better.

“well come on then.” she got up and began to make her way to the kitchen table, harry following behind her. 

•••

by the time they had finished their meal, they were just sat in silence. neither of them wanted to break the calm moment they were just having, but harry just couldn’t help but ask, “where is our relationship going?”

after breaking the silence he wanted to take his words back, erase the fact that those godforsaken words had ever left his mouth. while he was tearing himself apart over his brief action, y/n was contemplating where their relationship was going. that was the only thing running through her mind through the early morning as the sun was rising, but she never found a clear destination. neither of them knew where they were going, it was as if the windows were rolled down, and the map had flown out. thought they wanted a happy destination where all that mattered was each other, it seemed the car was taking them somewhere that was quite the opposite. the relationship juxtaposed their desires, and they didn’t know how to make the two align again.

“i don’t know,” y/n mumbled quietly, pulling the sleeves down her hands so her fingertips were just peeking out, her yellow painted nails contrasting against the purple jumper she was wearing. the anxiety flowed through her veins as she was wondering where this conversation was heading. she was sick of all the yelling and screaming that constantly occurred between the two of them, she wanted it all to stop, but y/n didn’t want to lose him. 

harry couldn’t help but sense the anxiety flowing through the both of them, so he reached across the table to grab her hand, silently letting y/n know it would be okay in the end, but he wasn’t just comforting her. the longer they sat there, the eerier the silence became. the unknown became more and more frightening to them, and they just didn’t want to lose everything. they had a feeling that they were soulmates, and they couldn’t bear to lose each other.

the minutes passed and turned into an hour of them sitting in silence, both trying to organize their thoughts and figure out what to do. the conversation had taken a pause, both of them knew that, but it was better than them yelling at one another and getting nowhere. this was progress, and harry was starting to be glad he had let those words leave his mouth. he was hoping his mood wouldn’t change. on the other hand, y/n sat on the other side of the table fearing the worst. she was terrified that the conversation would end with them breaking up, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes from just thinking about it. harry couldn’t ignore the tears that were threatening to spill down y/n’s cheeks, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. what was he supposed to do when he didn’t even know where they were heading?

they sat at the kitchen table all afternoon. the sun had begun to set when y/n decided to make herself busy by collecting the dirty plates and cutlery and started to do the dishes. harry followed suit and began to wipe down the table and the countertops, hoping that this distraction would help them figure out how to fix themselves. 

•••

y/n watches as the suds swirl off the white porcelain plates and down the drain. too distracted by the thought of her and harry breaking up, she just swirled the plate around, making the water reach all edges of it. how were they supposed to fix whatever was going on when they couldn’t figure out the problem?

“should we break up?” she asked herself. y/n didn’t expect the words to come out, and truthfully, she was praying that they were just mumbled so harry couldn’t hear them, except he did.

“what?” he responded. y/n knew he was baffled that she would ever ask something like that, and she was as well. her mind was running marathons trying to figure out the right answer to their situation. though she was terrified of what harry was going to say or do next, she found the courage to look at him. all she saw was fear running through harry’s body, and she was no stranger to that fear. y/n could feel that they were terrified for the same reason - letting go - but she wanted to do anything before she had to let go of him.

“i don’t want to break up, but what if it’s the only thing that’s going to salvage this relationship? i’d rather break up now while i still love you than break up hating you.” it was a touchy subject for the both of them, but who really wanted to break up with their partner that they were still so madly in love with? maybe it was the right decision, but she couldn’t tell, blinded by how complete she felt with him.

y/n looked out the window only to notice that the twilight had left the sky and the stars were shining yet again. she hoped that the events from the previous night wouldn’t repeat, but as she focused on how bright the stars were shining, she didn’t see a difference. 

“be honest with me,” she paused to look back at harry. looking into his brown eyes for some sort of sign that things would get better. “do you think the fighting is going to get better?” she hoped that he would say yes. she hoped that he would say he would do anything for things to get better, but part of her just wanted an end to the fighting, whatever that looked like, she just wanted the fighting to stop. she couldn’t take it anymore. she hated crying almost every day, she hated being so far away from him, but she mostly hated how they were together without seeing eye to eye anymore.

“you want me to tell you the truth?” harry asked, y/n just nodded, scared of what he was going to say. “i am still so madly in love with you, and it scares me because i don’t know what i’d do if we broke up.” she looked away from him, too scared of what was to come next. he cupped her face, making her look up at him, and for the first time in a long time, she had never felt such pure love from harry. “everything is going to be alright, we’ll be alright because we love each other darling,” he said softly, staring into her eyes.

“i love you haz,” y/n murmured, scared that if she spoke any louder, the tranquil moment between them would break.

“i always love you even when we fight, you know that right?” harry asked, his hands slipping down to her waist, holding her against him. his hands on her waist sent sparks up her spine and she felt the passion that they held for each other all over her body. 

y/n rested her head against harry’s broad chest, eyes closed to fully savour the moment. she memorized the way he felt against her, the weight of his hands resting on her body, and the way he smelled. y/n memorized the way it felt when his thumb would rub circles onto her hip, never able to ever stay still, and as she opened her eyes to look up at him, she memorized the soft smile that appeared on his face as he looked down at her. she was terrified that this would be the last good moment they would ever have, the last moment that was argument-free, the last moment where they weren’t yelling at each other or ignoring each other. 

harry leaned down to kiss the top of y/n’s head, and as he pulled away, she pulled his head back towards hers, capturing his lips with her own. the feeling of his soft lips against her own slightly chapped ones felt like home to her. he was where she belonged, and the kiss only reminded her of what home once felt like. 

•••

later that night, harry and y/n were laying in bed together watching a movie on netflix. the feeling of her in his arms without any ill-feelings between the two of them felt brand new to him, and he didn’t want to ever forget how perfectly she fit in his arms. his brown eyes stared at her arm resting against his abdomen, and he wished that he could take a picture of the moment to keep it to memory forever. he knew that one day these little memories would be overwritten and wouldn’t last forever, but he was hoping that there would be more memories like this for him to keep.

y/n had quickly fallen asleep on harry’s chest and he was quick to notice her change in breathing. 

“i genuinely don’t know what i would do if i’d lose you,” harry said quietly, speaking mostly to himself and not to his girlfriend laying partially on him. he continued to ramble, “it always kills me whenever we fight, you know that?” he pushed some hair out of her face and watched as she furrowed her brows at whatever was happening in her dream, y/n’s face then relaxing to one that was so peaceful.

“i was telling you the truth earlier when i told you i still loved you despite all the arguments we’ve had. i’m still madly in love with you even when i’m mad at you.” harry knew she wouldn’t hear him, but he still liked talking to her, despite her being asleep.

that night harry realized they had quickly gone back to the basics, to their love being the only thing that mattered, but harry knew in just a few months he would have to leave again, and he was terrified. he loved his job, but he knew that y/n hated being away from him. she was his home, and he had a feeling that to her, he was her home, but he needed to go on this press tour with tom. maybe he could bring her along, travel the world with her while working. harry was quick to push that thought aside, remembering that whatever ends up happening, it would be alright. 

“whatever happens, we’ll be alright,” y/n murmured in her sleep and harry smiled. somehow, she knew what to say even if she was asleep.

-

anything and everything taglist: @hollanderfangirl​ @hxrryhxlland​ @ohmy-moonlightx​ @musicalkeys​ @notsosmexy @writertoo18​ @icyhollands​ @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​

harry holland taglist: @euphorichxlland

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland x you #harry holland x y/n #harry holland fic #harry holland imagine #harry holland imagines #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst

[toothpastecanyon]

Dreams That Walk, Nightmares That Talk, Chapter 7

Ben's been visiting the Mindscape every day since he was born. Once he brought something back, and twenty years later, Marie García is still picking out the pieces.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

                Another time. Marie would admit she’s never been able to choose a good moment; she’s not really sure what that even means. She’s gonna have to say it at some point, so

                “Hi Marie!”

                                why not

                “Sorry I’m late, had a… rough summons. Ready for chess?”

                                                right now?

                “I need you to go into my mind and fix whatever’s wrong with it.” Marie gets out the chessboard, hesitates, and looks up at him. “What?”

                “Wh-what?” He’s staring at her like she’s grown a second head. “What do you mean?”

                “Like you offered before. You can still do that, right?”

                “Go into your head?” Alcor rubs his eye. “I mean, yeah, but… sorry, this is just kind of sudden. I thought you didn’t want me to-”

                “I didn’t forget, I know what I said.” She snaps, and then makes a face at his flinch. “Sorry. That came out harsh, sorry.”

                Quietly, Alcor takes a seat next to her. She can feel him watching her set up the pieces, can sense him waiting for her to go on. It takes a second, and then:

                “Look, I… I don’t like… I don’t like admitting when I need help.” She lines up the castles. “But I think I do, and I think you’re the only one who can. Help me, that is. God knows I’ve tried getting it from anywhere else, but half the time it doesn’t work and half the time I can’t be honest without getting Ben hauled off by demonologists.”

                “Sorry,” Alcor says, and she gives him a strange look.

                “What do you mean-? Oh. Oh, I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about…” Marie stops herself. She sighs. “Well… that’s why I didn’t want anyone rooting around in my head. Obviously I didn’t want you at first because I didn’t trust you, but... I don’t want anyone in my mind. I don’t want anyone rooting around in my secrets. I still don’t.”

                “That’s understandable.”

                “But this isn’t sustainable. Not for Ben.” She picks up the king, runs her thumb down the grain. “I’ve been going in circles my whole life, I’m used to it, but after… after Ben ended up in the hospital, I promised him I’d get help, I’d get better, I’d stop pinning everything on him, or…” She hesitates, grips him tight. “He’s the only thing that matters to me. I can’t lose him. So I have to do this.”

                “Are you sure?” Alcor leans forward. “It, uh, really doesn’t sound like you want to do this. You don’t have to do this for Ben.”

                “Well, if Ben ends up cutting me off, there’s not much point carrying on. So I guess that means I’m doing it for me too, right?”

                Marie chuckles at that, but the look on his face tells her that didn’t come off as a joke. She clears her throat.

                “No, that’s not - I was just exaggerating. Don’t worry about it.”

                “Marie-”

                “Look, I’m not saying I don’t want to do this. Believe you me, I’d love to fix whatever’s wrong with me too. It’s just that, well, I have a lot of things I’d rather keep to myself. I mean, I like you, but there’s things I’ve never told Ben.” She places the king, then the queen. “Or Santino.”

                “Santino?”

                Marie looks up sharply at that, and then lets out a dark chuckle. “Yeah,” she says, and shakes her head. “You don’t know anything about me. Maybe that’s why you seem to like hanging out with me, right?” She keeps chuckling. “And then I let you in, and you’ll know better, right.”

                She trails off, and for a moment it’s all too quiet. Then there’s a sound: Alcor places a pawn. Nothing’s changed, but Marie feels something shift, like the air got a few degrees colder, the silence got a little bit more unsettling. Alcor places a pawn, and the sound is jarring.

                “There’s a lot you don’t know about me either.” He looks up at her with the same eyes she’s gotten used to, speaks in the same, casual tone she’s heard before, but underneath that is something… else. Something that sends a shiver down her spine. Alcor places a pawn, and she notices there’s dried blood under his claws. “Whatever you’ve done, Dr García, trust me when I say that I can’t judge.”

                Marie can only nod to that. It seemed when she first met Alcor, it’d be impossible to forget what he is, but the more she gets to know him, the more… unsettling it is, to be reminded.

                “Right,” She says, and clears her throat. “Well. It’s good to know that. So… will you do it?”

                “Of course I will.”

                “What would you like in return?”

                “What I’d like?” He looks at her… and then cracks a smile. “Do you want to play this game first?”

                “That’s it?”

                “I mean, I just came from some demonic weirdness; I’d rather take a second before diving into the next one. If you really want to do it right now, though-”

                “No, no, that’s okay. We can take a break.” She rose to her feet. “Do you want some tea? I was going to put the kettle on.”

                “Oh, yeah, thank you! And-”

                “Extra sugar?” She snorts as he nods. “Yeah, figured. I’ll get that going.”

                “Thanks!”

                “Thank you, Alcor.” Marie gives him a smile. “Thank you.

                They didn’t play one game; they played several, and then ended up on the couch together watching one of Alcor’s strange pre-transcendence movies. Marie isn’t really a TV person, but she did notice how he hadn’t been joking around so much today. It seemed like he really did need the break.

                (And of course she asked him on a bad day. She really couldn’t pick a moment, see?)

                Even though she isn’t focused too much on the movie, she does feel pleasantly warm and sleepy; her eyes are drooping, and she sinks into the couch and lets them. The dialogue dissolves into a distant murmur, the action into a gentle glow against her eyelids. She might even have started leaning against Alcor because she feels something like fabric against her cheek, but she can’t bring herself to mind. She drifts off, drifts away…

                “Do you want to do this now?”

                It’s a gentle voice, almost like it’s afraid to wake her. She opens her eyes, and suddenly she’s a little surprised about how awake she feels. She sees Alcor standing in front of her, blocking the television.

                “Oh, I’m ready if you are.” She frowns. “Don’t you want to finish your movie, though?”

                “Eh, you already fell asleep.”

                Marie blinks at that, and then looks around. Suddenly it strikes her how grey everything is, and when she looks down she feels a jolt at the sight of herself still resting on the couch.

                “Wha-”

                “Don’t panic!” Alcor holds his hands out. “You’ll wake yourself up. Everything’s okay.”

                “Is this my mind?”

                “No, no, I wouldn’t do that without your permission. This is just the Mindscape.” He gave an awkward smile. “I promise there’s a difference.”

                “I… see.” Marie looked down, and saw herself floating a little ways off the ground. Her leg was clipping through the couch. “Interesting.”

                “Yeah, it takes some getting used to.” He reaches out a hand. “Are you ready?”

                Marie nods. “I am,” she says, and takes it. “Let’s go.”

                She watches him close his eyes, and put a hand on her head. Nothing happens for a moment, then there’s the distinct, unsettling feeling of his hand sinking into her forehead-

                But only for a heartbeat. Marie blinks, and now Alcor’s standing beside her, and she’s somewhere else.

                Somewhere… dead.

                Ash rain is all Marie can make out at first. A thick cloud of grey surrounds her, settles on her, kills any sound but for the beating of her heart. It’s hard to move through, like the air is made of syrup, and Marie imagines that staying still for too long would bury her under this, that she’d reach a point where she couldn’t move at all, couldn’t see, couldn’t scream-

                “Let’s get moving.” Marie says.  She looks for Alcor, and finds him waist-deep in the grey. “Alcor? Do you need help?”

                He says something, but she can’t make it out. She grabs his arm and starts pulling him up.

                “Come on, Alcor. We need to get to my mind.”

                “This is wrong.”

                “What?”

                Alcor looks dazed, scared. The ash is up to his neck.

                “What is it, Alcor?”

                Slowly, he turns that expression on her, and she feels a shiver go up her spine.

                “This… is your mind.”

                “Okay. Is this not normal?”

                “Not normal? There’s nothing here!” He gestures, and shreddings of her mind follow the wake. “I don’t - I don’t even know how you’re alive right now! I feel nothing here, no thoughts, no memories… n-no soul!”

                That strikes a chord in Marie, but she tries to keep it contained for now. “Huh,” she strokes her chin. “But you felt souls within me. They have to be somewhere.”

                She looks down at Alcor, sinking into the ash, and then at her own feet. They’re a little buried, and she can feel a… warmth, the further down she lets them go.

                “Hmm.” She glances over at him again. “I think you have the right idea.”

                Alcor doesn’t reply; she can only see the top of his head now, and as she watches it’s swallowed up into the sea of ash. That left her standing there, trying not to extract herself as she sinks down to her shins.

                “Just do nothing. Let it happen.”

                Marie stands there for a moment, staring out into the grey. With nothing to do, she can pick out vague, dark shapes; a little unsettling, and the ash feels slightly… sharper, than she first thought.

                She wonders if this is a good idea, and that’s when a hand grabs her ankle. Marie jumps and kicks herself free… and finds herself right back on top of the ash. She pauses, then frowns.

                “Huh. This is literally my own mind playing tricks on me.” She kicks at the ash. “Fuck you, let me through already.”

                The ash is barely falling now, and she rolls her eyes.

                “Great. Maybe there’s another way through.” Marie starts pacing. “Or I could ask Alcor for help… would summoning work here? I wonder where he even went.”

                There was a mumbling from the ash. She looks down, and sees Alcor surface.

                “Marie!” He looks relieved. “There you are! I thought I’d lost you!”

                “Yeah, some mind guide you’ve been so far.”

Alcor makes a face. “Sorry. I was just… shocked.” He reaches out a hand. “Come on. You’ll want to see this.”

                “Something tells me I won’t, but sure.” She takes it. “Lead o-”

                He dives beneath the ash, and she manages only a gasp before- darkness. Worse than darkness: stillness. She breathes the weeks she spent wasting away in her bedroom, feels the stale air and stale thoughts scratching across her whole being. And it’s getting worse, getting hotter, getting to those nights when the air conditioner wasn’t enough and the sun was glaring down at her through the blinds and still she couldn’t even summon the energy to kick the fucking covers off of her-

                Light. Blinding light. Marie stumbles forward, eyes squeezed shut, and it’s all she can do to hold onto Alcor. She can feel his arm raise up to point.

                “Look.”

                “A little, little warning next time, thanks…” She blinks open her eyes, and then frowns. “Okay, I’m looking. What is it?”

                It is coming out of the centre of this narrow chamber. It is thin and narrow, pitted with holes like a termite mound. It has a dark, rocky hide to it, but small fissures reveal something underneath, something pink, something pulsating, something alive. She looks to Alcor, and sees he’s gone sheet white.

                “What is it?”

                “It’s…” He takes a step closer. “You. Your mind. Your soul. Everything that you are.”

                “Okay. How do we fix it?”

                “Wh- Marie, I-” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been asked to heal souls before, but this is…” Another step closer, and he’s eye to eye with its peak. “I’ve never had so little to work with.”

                “Well, you’ve still got something to work with. What’s the first step?” She rolls her eyes at his bewildered expression. “Come on, Alcor. Walk me through how you’d usually treat something like this.” A pause. “Well?”

                “I’m sorry, I just…” His voice is faint. “No wonder I can barely feel your aura. I don’t know how you’re talking to me right now, I- Ow, you pinched me!”

                Marie draws her hand back. “Okay, the first step is to stop panicking. Now that you’ve done that, can you tell me what you do next?”

                “I, uh…” He tries to gesture to the mound. “Well, usually I’d step inside their mind to figure out what’s wrong, but-”

                “Okay. Is that possible?”

                Alcor pauses. “I guess… size is a lot less defined in the mind.”

                “It’s worth a shot, then.”

                “Yeah. Yeah!” He moves towards the mound, and shoots her a grin. “You’re good at this!”

                “At not panicking? It’s half my job.” She nudges him forwards. “Let’s go.”

                Alcor nods, and then lifts up his foot. He’s taller than the mound, but he steps his leg into it and seems to fit into one of the tiny holes. He offers his hand to Marie, and she takes it.

                “Ready?” He says, and she nods. “Alright. This is it.”

                He leans down, and Marie feels the world shrink around her as she’s led into the hole. She looks behind her, and there’s no opening where they came through. Before them, though…

                “Huh.” She raises her eyebrow. “It’s the old hospital I used to work at.”

                And it is… mostly. It’s the same mint green hallways she’d worked in for years, but there’s definitely something off about it. There’s no sound. The lights are dimmer. When she tries to read the room numbers, the words shift and twist and refuse to make sense. Stranger still, there’s something long and thin and red nestled against the baseboard, trailing into the darkness.

                “Doesn’t look so bad.” Marie turns to Alcor. “What do we do from here?”

                He looks uncomfortable. “Marie…”

                “What?”

                “It’s… I just…” He hesitates, and then shakes his head. “I’ll ask you later. What did you say?”

                “Where do we go from here?”

                “We, uh… well, we find where the extra souls are.”

                “I see.” She eyes the blood vessel as it gently pulsates. Cracks have formed around where it’s dug itself in. “Anything we should be cautious of?”

                “Doors are common mental representations of memories.” He makes a face. “Probably shouldn’t go around opening them, if we can help it. Or anything else that looks... significant.”

                “No, we shouldn’t.” She takes a step forward, and then motions for him. “Come on.”

                “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

                They walk forwards, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. There’s far more crossroads here than there are in the real hospital, Marie notices; it feels like every five steps they come across another path, and, for lack of a good reason to turn, they go straight every time. As they continue, she can pick up a faint hum… or a beep.

                Beep, beep, beep.

                                beep, beep, beep.

                                                one two three.

                The blood vessel in the corner branches off at the next intersection; they look like they’re going in all directions at first, but she blinks and-

                                                right right right

                The right path. The only path. It’s covered from floor to ceiling in hot wet viscera, and she feels her heart skip a beat.

                                                right right right rightleftright RIGHTRIGHTRIGHT

                “I guess we know where we’re going, huh?” She can distantly hear Alcor’s nervous chuckle. “You okay?”

                “I’m fine.” Marie takes a step forward with her right foot. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

                Make it right. Now that she hears the beeping it’s deafening; now that she notices the right path, it compels her to go that way every time. They take three more rights, and she can start to feel Alcor’s worried eyes on the back of her head like she doesn’t know that she’s just leading them in circles now. She’s not an idiot.

                Another intersection comes up, and she eyes the path straight ahead. She’s not an idiot.

                                (shes-(shes-

                She steps forward, and suddenly the beeping is screaming, the ground is shaking, the walls are pressing in around them. She can hear Alcor shout something as her feet give way beneath her and she’s falling, falling, falling…

                “Hey.”

                Marie feels a hand on her arm. She recoils.

                “Are you okay, mi cielito?”

                “I…” She stares at the kettle she’s reboiled five times now. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

                “Okay.”

                “I look like an idiot, don’t I.”

                “No, you don’t.”

                “I do. Of course I do, I-”

                “I’ve never thought that once.” She can feel him standing next to him, thinking. “Is there anything I can help with, today?”

                “I… I don’t know.” A chuckle. “You could boil this for me over and over again, heh… no.”

                “I can’t help you do that to yourself.”

                “I know.”

                A pause. Marie blinks, and looks at her hand. It’s smooth, devoid of wrinkles.

                “How about if you go to the living room, and I make you some tea?”

                “Santino?” She watches his eyes disconnect from her, wave at where she once shuffled around the corner. She backs away. “This isn’t real, this is - memory. I need to get out of here.”

                “Is there anything I can help with, today?”

                That came from Santino. Her head whips up, and he’s picking out a mug. No one else is in the room.

                “What?” She steps closer. “Santino?”

                A heartbeat later, she feels something grab the back of her scrubs and pull. She stumbles back into the hospital, and Alcor breathes a sigh of relief.

                “I found you!” He laughs nervously. “Again. Are you okay? Everything kind of broke apart for a second there.”

                Marie nods. “I’m… okay. I-“

                “Oh, whoa.”

                She watches his eyes go wide. “What?” She asks, and follows his gaze to…

                The doorway. Or doorways - it looks like it’s duplicated inside of itself, and the frame’s taken on a W-shape. Right in the centre, fitted like a keystone, is something small, something glowing, something that makes her heart skip a beat.

                “A soul,” she breathes. Through the doorway, she can see Santino taking a mug of tea into the living room. “What happens now? Alcor?”

                Alcor steps forward, and with one hand he reaches up to the soul. She can see him frown, and then before she can speak again he steps back and tries to yank it out; a pain shoots through her temple at that, and her blood runs cold.

                “St- stop! Stop!” She pushes his arm. “You’re gonna break me, stop!”

                “Marie!” There’s hands on her shoulders. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

                “I’ll be… fine.” She rubs her head. “As long as you don’t start yanking parts of me out again. What was that for?”

                Alcor makes a face. “I’m sorry. I thought it’d work - souls don’t exactly like being in close proximity to each other.” He sighed. “I’ve never… I’ve never seen this. I don’t know how it got integrated into your mind, but you’re right. It’s not going to come out easy.”

                Marie stares at the soul. She reaches up, touches it, feels along the edges. There’s a definite seam there, but it’s thin.

                “Huh. I wonder…” She looks over at him. “Scalpel.”

                “What?”

                “Hand me a scalpel.”

                He raises an eyebrow, but he digs in his pocket and draws one out. Marie positions herself over the soul, and gently traces the blade along the edge. When nothing breaks, she slides it in a little deeper, and feels the soul loosen.

                “Forceps.”

                “Huh?”

                “Forceps?” Marie looks down at him. “Oh, just hand me some tweezers or something, I don’t want to drop this.”

                She feels him slip a pair into her hand, and she gently holds the soul in place while she runs the scalpel down the other edges. It’s very, very loose when she’s done - just the slightest tug, and it comes away.

                The soul is gently glowing between her forceps. The door before her shifts in her absence, straightens into a regular doorway. She looks at the memory, and it’s from her point of view, in the living room. She looks up at a gentle knock, smiles as Santino comes through with a cup of tea.

                She looks down at the soul cupped in her hands. It’s warm, and she feels a tap on her shoulder.

                “You did it.” Alcor smiles. “Give it to me.”

                “What are you going to do with him?”

                “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt it. I just want to release it back into the cycle.” His smile shrinks a little. “It’s where it wants to go.”

                Marie hesitates, but she can feel a sort of restlessness to the soul; little arms of light are trying to worm their way through her fingers. She holds him out, gently places him into Alcor’s hands, and watches him blow on the soul. He fades away, leaving nothing behind.

                “There.” Alcor dusts off his hands. “It’s at peace now. When there’s enough of it back in the cycle, it can reincarnate into someone new.”

                “I see,” she says, quietly. She stares at his hands a moment longer… and then tears her eyes away.

                Turns to look at the hallway of embedded souls stretched out endlessly before them, glittering like the night sky.

                “I see.” She says. “I have a lot of work to do.”

                “Marie-” There’s something in Alcor’s tone that makes her glance at him. He won’t look her in the eyes. “I… uh… listen, I don’t want to pry, but…”

                “You want to know how this happened, don’t you.”

                “I just - I’m sorry I was… less prepared for this, than I made myself out to be.” He stared at the hallway of souls. “Truthfully, I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t want to make you feel weird, like saying you should be dead or something, but- you should be dead. I’ve only seen damage like this in ancient ghosts and - I don’t know, souls I’m halfway through eating.”

                He barks a laugh. It isn’t a funny sound.

                “So I guess I can’t lie, I wanna know what happened. If you want to tell me.” He blinked. “And I mean, if you even know. Do you?”

                Marie pauses, and gives a grim smile. “Oh, of course I know what happened.” Her eyes trail back to the door, to Santino sitting with her on the couch. Her expression darkens.

                “The time I killed my husband. I could never forget.”

#transcendence au #Ben Can't Sleep #Ben #marie #toothwrites

[liemonyellow]

i couldn't hide from the thunder (happy end)

read on ao3

Ship: romantic anamoceit (patton/virgil/janus)

Word Count: 5000

Warnings: implied attempted suicide (no one dies, but it’s not really discussed either - the end is almost pure fluff), lots of italics

Summary: It was cruel, the way Virgil’s heart belonged to someone who would never love him back. It had to be karma, because hadn’t it been Virgil who pushed him away? Virgil, who lashed out and locked out everybody in a moment of hurt, who was too afraid to admit his feelings, forever destined to see his beloved love someone else?

Notes: This is the HAPPY ending. If you prefer sad endings where the ship doesn't get together and someone dies, there is a tragic ending version. The story is exactly the same up until the line, “From you? That would be nice, yeah!” and diverges from there.

---

If you're here for the alternate ending, click here to skip to the diverging point.

---

Virgil didn't understand how things had gotten to this point.

He drifted vaguely into the kitchen, taking in nothing, trying not to think about how tired Patton looked when Virgil checked in on him only five minutes ago. Despite Virgil’s insistence that he rest, he was adamant on staying where he was, though he did ask if he could bring up something warm, like tea, or soup. Apparently it tasted better if it was handmade instead of summoned.

"Can you bring up two? For when he wakes up?" He had asked, eyes red with exhaustion, his normally exuberant smile timid and watery.

Virgil didn't want to. But he saw the tremor in the moral side's hand as he tried and failed to rub away the tiredness of his eyes, the other clutching Deceit's cold, unresponsive arm like a lifeline. So he agreed, of course he agreed, because Patton had asked, and it was important that Patton was happy. And if making Patton happy meant making Deceit happy…

Virgil sighed, rubbing his own eyes, pinching his nose as he tried to focus. He opened the cupboard to check what they had and spotted a tin of Patton’s (and Deceit’s, his brain unhelpfully reminded him) herbal tea. He figured it was a safer - and quicker - bet than food and grabbed a couple of tea bags and put them in some mugs, then filled the electric kettle and started it.

It was taking a while.

Wasn't there a saying about pots and boiling water or something?

If Patton was here, he'd probably make a pun, his grin bright and shining as Virgil rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn't amused.

If Deceit was here, he'd probably shoot back with a snarky pun of his own, in that silky-smooth voice of his, all arrogance and smirks.

…

If Deceit was here, Virgil wouldn't be doing any of this.

Virgil didn't know what had possessed him to go and confront the snake the day prior. He was just so frustrated, unable to get the concept of Deceit charming his way into Patton’s daily life - and his heart - out of his head. Virgil was sure that the deceptive side had to be manipulating Patton somehow. And the sight of Patton, after everything he’d said, looking at Deceit with such fondness and affection whenever he saw them together, and Deceit doing the same - it made Virgil’s blood run cold and boil all at the same time. Virgil couldn’t stand it, the thought of the two of them, together. Deceit had to be using Patton to gain more influence over Thomas, because Virgil refused to believe the lying serpent could love anyone more than he loved himself. Because if he could...

Perhaps it was because no one had seen him in the last few days. That had Virgil worried, and the longer he failed to make an appearance, the more antsy Virgil got. Patton’s own fretting was driving him up the wall, but the other side kept saying something about “respecting his boundaries”.

He expected a fight. He expected the usual snark and sass and sarcasm. He didn’t expect to find Deceit’s room dark and freezing, or the side’s cold, dead-looking body curled up and slumped over in a pile on the ground.

Virgil wasn’t sure what happened after the others arrived. He hadn’t even been aware he was screaming until someone had grabbed him and sunk them both out into the commons, because even Remus knew that leaving Virgil anywhere near his own room in that state would have been a bad idea.

Whatever they did or found out, they had eventually managed to move Deceit to his bed and warm him and his room up without too much trouble, or so Virgil had discovered after he had calmed down.

Patton hadn’t left Deceit’s side since.

The shock had worn off completely then, replaced with renewed ire when Virgil realized Patton wouldn’t leave until he woke up.

If Virgil was frustrated before, he was incensed now. What if this was part of Deceit’s plan? What if it was all just another plot to get them to trust him? What if it was all just another lie? Patton, bless his forgiving heart, was dangerously close to falling in love, if he hadn’t already.

And Virgil had tried, so, so hard, to convince Patton to let him take care of Deceit. At least then the moral side could get some rest, and Virgil would have a 24/7 watch on the serpentine side. And watch he would.

Virgil had to admit that Deceit was very convincing in the way he looked like he was falling just as hard for Patton, likely plying him with some sympathetic sob story designed to reel in the fatherly figment. Every little glance, every lingering stare, every miniscule twitch of Deceit’s eyes were focused on Patton, when he wasn’t mocking Virgil with forlorn eyes and damn his acting abilities for making it look so genuine that Virgil couldn’t stop himself from glowering back, trying to catch him slipping up, to the point that every detail of his face, down to each and every scale was ingrained in Virgil’s mind.

The anxious side honestly didn’t know how he could keep up the act. But while Virgil had years of experience with Deceit’s smug goading and flirtation, Patton was falling for it all, hook, line, and sinker. (But why him? Why not-)

Virgil didn't have to like it, but Deceit was one of them now, and Patton would defend his acceptance to the bitter end. Such fierce loyalty, directed at the worst possible target. But however admirable Patton’s newfound devotion to and defensiveness of Deceit were, Virgil was determined to put a stop to it before the situation could change even more.

Now was probably the best time, given Deceit’s unconsciousness. The first thing to do was stop them from spending so much time together, before they actually got together; it was a slim chance, given their recent closeness, but Virgil had to try something. He was running out of simple options - Patton would only worry more once separated from his not-yet(?) boyfriend, and asking him to just hang out would just be tactless and suspicious at this time. Virgil had even offered to stay there with him and Deceit - so many times it sounded pathetically desperate even to himself - just so Patton could eat or sleep or simply stretch his legs for a minute, but Patton wouldn't budge. He hadn’t so much as drunk a glass of water unless someone put it into his hands.

Right, the tea.

He hadn’t noticed the kettle click off, but there was still steam rising from the spout so he poured the water into the mugs. He hesitated before putting the kettle away. Maybe Patton would let him stay a little, if he brought his own cup, and then Virgil could maybe convince him to leave Deceit alone with him for a few hours? Virgil would stay with Deceit for as long as it took.

He grabbed another mug and tea bag and poured himself a cup and grabbed both the other mugs with his free hand before carefully heading back up the stairs, focusing solely on not spilling anything as he walked.

He was just outside the door, wondering how he was supposed to get in when he heard a raised voice. It sounded like Patton.

Glancing around and finding no help, he ended up setting down his one mug on the floor and opened the door with his newly free hand, and slowly tilted his head inside.

“-ease, Janus!” Patton was kneeling next to the bed, clutching Deceit’s hand between his as if in prayer, his head turned away from the door, focused solely on the bed’s occupant.

Deceit was awake, just barely, eyes cracked open just enough to reveal a sliver of yellow and amber. As soon as Virgil had peeked in, he’d noticed and stared, expression unreadable. Virgil’s blood chilled at the sight of him, pale and pitiful and hardly able to keep his eyes open, looking so vulnerable and weak. Then Patton bowed his head, bringing their joined hands to his brow as he trembled, and Virgil’s blood burned in his veins. It was an act, he reminded himself. It had to be. Because if it wasn’t… then they...

Deceit mumbled something too soft for Virgil to hear, and Patton spun around to see him standing in the doorway, wide-eyed. He scrambled to his feet and gave Virgil an obviously fake smile, wiping away his tears. Virgil could feel his heart squeeze at the sight of him pretending he wasn’t hurting.

“Virgil! Janus is awake! Um,” he glanced at the bedridden side and back, spotting the mugs Virgil was holding, “oh, right, the tea! Thank you so much!”

He walked over quickly and grabbed the mugs, saying, “I’m sorry, kidd- uh, Virgil, but I don’t think Janus is really ready for more people right now. I’m really sorry!”

Virgil’s heart dropped, but he managed to nod mutely, step out, and close the door behind him. He heard Patton cooing apologies to Deceit before the heavy wood cut off his voice with a finality that unsettled the purple side.

Virgil stood there for a minute.

Picked up his mug.

Made it all the way to his room.

Shut and locked the door.

Stood there another minute.

Started shaking.

Then, he threw the mug, tea and all, against the wall, splattering the hot liquid all over the posters and shattering the ceramic.

Virgil sank to the floor, hugging his knees, tucking his face into them.

It was cruel, the way Virgil’s heart belonged to someone who would never love him back. It had to be karma, because hadn’t it been Virgil who pushed him away? Virgil, who lashed out and locked out everybody in a moment of hurt, who was too afraid to admit his feelings, forever destined to see his beloved love someone else?

He didn’t know how long he stayed there. Eventually, he managed to drag himself into bed and into sleep, so exhausted that his anxiety had no chance to keep him up before he was unconscious.

For the next week, Virgil settled into a vague routine of bringing tea to Patton (and Deceit) in the evening. Deceit had recovered rather (suspiciously) quickly and was able to get up and walk for a bit. Still, Patton refused to leave him alone. If anything, he’d gotten more protective. Logan, Remus, and even Roman would also pop in during the day to see how the two were doing, but they did not seem all that concerned with things, at least not as much as Virgil was.

The worst part was how carefully the others would tread around Virgil, like he was some pitiful, pathetic creature or something. It was no secret that he had a huge crush on Patton. (Was that why Deceit chose him? Or just a spiteful twist of fate?) Roman had teased him relentlessly about it before… recent events, but Remus had only gotten worse, ribbing Virgil about making a little threesome with Patton and Janus, after years of mocking him about Janus’s “flirting”. And while Logan didn’t participate, the logical side also talked about Virgil’s crush as a matter of fact while chastising the twins for their teasing. So Virgil had taken to just staying inside his room and taking a nap during the day and going out in the dead of night, when everyone else was sleeping.

The evening of that fateful night, Virgil drifted awake the same way he fell asleep, vaguely aware that he was in a state of transition before his mind caught up to whatever was happening. He pushed himself up and stretched, checked the time, then flopped down, eyes drifting closed again...

Why had he woken up so early? Usually he wouldn’t get up for at least another hour, unless he was being summoned for something. God, he was so damn tired these days, no matter how long he slept.

Virgil’s eyes snapped open and he bolted up.

Fuck, Thomas was getting anxious about something.

Virgil swung himself out of bed and ran his hand through his hair to hopefully smooth it out some, then sank out and appeared in usual place at the foot of the stairs.

Thomas was staring at his phone, frowning. He didn’t seem too aware of Virgil’s presence.

Virgil reviewed the situation: Thomas was anxious. Obviously. He was about to text a friend. They hadn’t talked in a while, and left things off in a weird way that no one was happy with. Thomas missed him. He just wasn’t sure he missed him back.

Thomas sighed. He looked up and over to the blinds where Patton (and, now, Deceit) usually stood during discussions, then back down to his phone again. It had locked from inactivity. He huffed in frustration as he keyed his passcode into the screen.

Virgil decided to cut to the chase.

“Tell him the truth.”

Thomas practically leaped, his head whipping back up to see his anxious side leveling an accusatory stare at him, one eyebrow raised.

Thomas sighed again. “It’s probably too late...”

“Look, I’m sure he misses you, too.”

“Yeah, right. Clearly he does, or he wouldn’t be constantly avoiding me.” Thomas frowned at his phone again.

“You don’t know that. Not for sure. And being sure means you can move forward.”

Thomas gave an empty chuckle, then he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands, as if denying he could see anything would help him avoid talking about it.

“Pretending you don’t miss him isn’t going to help. Just tell him the truth. Doesn’t he deserve that much?” Virgil asked.

Virgil knew that neither option felt any better than the other. Thomas glanced at Virgil from the corner of his eye. The side slouched even more, eyes flicking between Thomas and a random spot on the floor, almost pleadingly.

“Of course he does. But what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Then you apologize. And… you move on.”

Thomas shifted his glare to Virgil. “You’re saying that?”

Virgil hid his face. Of course he’d be called out. “We all have to try something new at some point, right?”

Thomas’s glare lost its heat. He looked back down again. “I want to apologize, but I feel like-”

“Like no matter what you do, you do the wrong thing. I know.”

Thomas sighed again, frowning at his phone. He hesitated, then deleted his text and wrote, “I’m sorry for how we left things. I still care about you. I want to apologize. Can we talk?”

He stared at the words for a good minute. Then he hit send.

It was the truth, at least. Thomas didn’t feel all that much better, and for that matter, neither did Virgil. Thomas set his phone down and buried his face in his hands again.

“Thanks, Virgil. For being… gentle? Patient? Understanding? Usually you’re the one giving me a hard time about this stuff.”

“I figured you could use a break. I am trying, you know. To help. To be less… aggressive.” Virgil shrugged, looking away. “I’m just filling in for Patton, really. Y’know, what he’d say in this situation and all.”

Thomas looked up and glanced at his- their spot again.

“I figured he would have shown up. To help me, like you just did. Where is he?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “With Deceit.”

“Why-”

“Just- don’t ask, Thomas. Now’s… not a great time.”

“When is?”

Virgil couldn’t look at Thomas. Thomas rubbed his eyes.

“I just don’t get it. Up until a couple of weeks ago, things were fine. Then, it’s like, I don’t know, it’s like I stopped caring. About my friends, my family, my own life. I was supposed to do laundry, and take a day off to hang out with everyone, but I totally flaked on everything!” Thomas leaned back, sliding a little down the couch. “And I know it’s not Janus’s fault because Janus told me self-care was having clean clothes and spending time with my friends.”

Virgil held back a growl. This was absolutely Deceit’s fault. ‘Janus’ this and ‘Janus’ that, could the snake leave him alone for five goddamn minutes?! He already saw him day after day (Virgil could think of only one reason for wanting to see him more and he was already doing the best he could on that front) and he couldn’t even get away from him in his dreams!

“Why don’t you ask the Lord of the Lies himself?”

“I tried! But he didn’t show up either.”

“So you summoned me instead?”

“Not really… I guess I just got more anxious the longer I waited.”

“You know what? I just- I can’t with you right now.”

And with that, Virgil sank out, refusing to answer Thomas’s summons afterward. He appeared outside of Deceit’s door.

Now that he was here, though, he hesitated. But he brushed it aside, too angry to think at the moment. He knocked and let himself in.

“Thomas wants to talk to Deceit.”

Patton was already half-standing, looking back and forth between the side in the bed and the side who just entered.

“But, Janus isn’t ready for-”

“He can walk now, can’t he? It’s not like he’s a real human, it’s not like he’s going to disappear without you around.”

Patton made a pained sound, but Deceit laid a hand on his arm and said, “It’s fine, Patton. I can go and see what Thomas wants to talk about.”

Patton shook his head. “No! I’ll go!”

“Patton-”

“I’ll go,” Patton said.

Deceit looked into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded gravely before adding, “Then Virgil can stay with me tonight, and you can get some actual sleep.”

Patton’s face scrunched in distress. “Janus-!”

“Thank you, Patton. For everything you’ve done for me. But you need rest.” Something they both agreed on, not that Virgil would ever admit to it.

“Will you…?” Patton glanced worriedly at Virgil.

“Yes, Patton. I’ll tell him. It will be fine, Patton. I promise. Go to Thomas.”

Patton glanced a moment at Virgil, then bent down over Deceit. From his angle, Virgil couldn’t tell what he was doing, but it seemed like he was whispering something in Deceit’s ear. Deceit whispered something back, and Patton stood back up, tears forming in his eyes. They were both smiling softly. Virgil felt a pang of jealousy throbbing in his heart, knowing he’d never be the recipient of such fondness. Patton wiped his face on his sleeve, then walked over to Virgil, expression somber.

“Virgil,” he said, voice low. “Please, please, don’t let Janus do anything… extreme. Please. I know you don’t like him much, but I’m begging you.”

Virgil sighed, but cracked a small smile. “Darn, there goes my plan to secretly help him enter the Olympics.”

Patton didn’t laugh. Virgil’s smile fell, and he said, “Yeah, sure. I’ll try.”

A corner of Patton’s mouth quirked up. “Thank you.”

Patton sunk out slowly, maintaining eye contact with Deceit until he was gone, leaving the two of them alone together. Finally.

Deceit immediately spoke up. “There’s no need for you to actually stay, Virgil. At least, no longer than you’re comfortable with staying.”

Virgil fixed his stare on the reptilian side. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? No, you’re not getting rid of me that easy. I told Patton I’d stay here, and that’s what I’m going to do. And so are you. You said you were going to tell me something?”

Deceit sighed, rolling his eyes and looking away. He looked deep in thought. That never meant good things, in Virgil’s experience.

“Do you remember what it was like? Before you left?”

The question caught Virgil by surprise. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. As much as anyone remembers things that happened years ago.”

A corner of Deceit’s mouth twitched up, not unlike Patton’s had some minutes ago. Virgil wondered who’d picked it up from whom.

“I suppose it’s too much trouble to ask if you ever missed it?”

What was his angle here? Trying to trick Virgil into reminiscing? For what purpose? Virgil’s glower deepened.

Deceit sighed. His shoulders slumped, just a fraction. “I’m only wondering, Virgil, I’m not going to bite you or anything.”

“Why do you want to know?”

Deceit met his eyes, staring levelly. Neither one said anything for what felt like ten minutes, but couldn’t have been more than ten seconds. Virgil broke away first, face flushing from such direct, intense eye contact.

“Can’t a side be curious about what it’s like to be accepted?”

“You are accepted. Sort of.”

“Sort of,” he agreed, nodding.

Virgil bit his lip. The motion drew Deceit’s eyes to it, but they snapped back up to continue boring into Virgil’s. “Honestly? Not really. It was different, back then. Harder. And don’t get me wrong, it’s still hard sometimes, but it’s also easier? ‘Cause now Thomas knows how to, I don’t know, work with me? We work together now, and it’s a lot better than it was when we didn’t.”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, fixating his gaze on the pattern in Deceit’s rug.

“When you were one of us.”

Virgil looked back at Deceit. His expression was, as usual, unreadable. “Well, yeah.”

Deceit looked away. He took a deep breath. Then he got out of bed.

“What are you doing?!”

Deceit snapped his fingers.

“Baking a pie. What does it look like I’m doing?”

He was now dressed in his best attire, though not quite fully. Virgil was reminded of the courtroom. Whatever Deceit was planning, it couldn’t be good. Virgil could feel his panic rising.

“Patton said-”

Deceit frowned and snapped again, conjuring a pair of yellow socks.

“Patton doesn’t control what I do.”

He put the socks on.

“I said-”

Pulled out a pair of shiny shoes from beneath his bed.

“You said you would try. You tried. It’s not your fault you didn’t succeed.”

Put on one shoe.

“What are you even going to do?!”

Then the other.

“Take a walk.”

Deceit stood up, straightening out his suit and checked his inner breast pocket for something, patting it for extra measure.

“What?”

He stood in front of Virgil. He looked shorter without his hat. His hair was a mess of curls. They looked soft.

“I left my favorite hat in the Imagination. I need to go fetch it.”

Virgil blinked incredulously.

“Why now?”

“Patton would hardly let me out of his sight, let alone this room.”

“Ask Roman or Remus to get it.”

“Alas, I hid it too well. Neither of them would be able to find it.”

“Ask one of them to make you a new one!”

“Are you going to let me go or not?”

“Give me one good reason I should!”

Deceit gave him yet another unreadable expression.

“You want the truth?”

“From you? That would be nice, yeah!”

Virgil was getting frantic. He could feel, somewhere deep within, that if he let Deceit walk out the door, he would never see him again.

The thought was unbearable.

“The truth,” Deceit scoffed, “is that you win.”

Virgil froze, uncomprehending.

“Wh- What?”

“Patton loves you. He says he loves me, too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. So we were a secret. He said he was fine with just me. But I’m not fine with just him.”

Virgil could not believe what he was hearing. It had to be a lie.

“I also love you. I’ve loved you for so long.” Tears were streaming from his eyes. “I thought- maybe you-” He had to stop to stem the flow of tears trailing down his cheeks and take a deep breath.

Virgil was frozen. He could not think of a single thing to say, or even think. His mind was stuck on three words.

“You made it very clear that you don’t feel the same. You don’t want anything to do with me. And you’re right. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He wiped away a stray tear. Virgil wanted to do it for him, and to punch whoever had hurt him so much he’d started crying.

Oh. That would be him.

“And don’t think no one’s noticed how hard you’ve tried to separate Patton and me.” He sniffled. “So I’m giving you what you want. Removing the unwanted leg of the love triangle. You want Patton? He’s yours. You want me gone? I’m gone.”

Gone? What did he mean, gone?

“I mean you don’t have to worry about me ‘manipulating’ Patton anymore. I’m honestly surprised you found me in the first place. I thought for sure no one would notice until after everything was settled.”

No. What…

“Were you upset that I survived? Just one more day and all your problems would have disappeared. Well, here’s your chance. I’ll leave you and him and everyone else alone. Forever.”

Forever? As in...

“Yes.”

No. No. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t mean...

“What do you want from me, then?! Stop giving me mixed signals, and just tell me!”

Virgil looked down at the serpentine side, at the tears in his lovely, long lashes, the anguish in his eyes, obscured by the red puffiness of his eyelids, the pained grimace that didn’t belong on his lips. Anxiety stood there, watching in slow-motion as his racing thoughts came to a conclusion that he’d known for so long but never truly acknowledged.

Why he’d been so jealous not only over Patton spending time with him, but over him spending time with Patton. Jealous over the fact that Patton was the one being flirted with, being teased, being stared at with such wistfulness. Jealous that they were together, without Virgil.

Why he’d been terrified, just as Patton was, that if he didn’t constantly have him in sight, that if he’d so much as blinked, he’d be back there, screaming over the cold body of someone he loved.

So he did the only thing he could think of, the thing he’d been wanting to do for the last few minutes, hours, days, years, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t.

Virgil grabbed Janus by his lapels and pulled him into a kiss. It was sudden and unexpected, and the impact kind of hurt his teeth, but if this was the only way he could get through to him, so be it.

Janus melted into it, after a moment of shock. Virgil pulled him closer, wrapping an arm behind the smaller side’s neck possessively. Janus embraced him tightly around the chest, almost falling backward from the way they were leaned over.

After an eternity, they separated. Virgil loosened his grip, but did not let go, resting his forehead against the shorter side’s head, eyes still closed.

“You love me?” he asked, voice small.

He said nothing, but Virgil could feel his nod. For the first time in what felt like forever, Virgil smiled, albeit with a bittersweet joy.

“I love you, too, Janus. I’m sorry. I’m so- I’m so fucking sorry it took you wanting to die for me to say it. But I want you here, with me. With Patton.”

They stood there, holding one another. Virgil didn’t want to let go. But he did.

They needed to talk. But they could do that later, with Patton. Janus needed rest. They all did.

Before they could do anything about it, the door opened and Patton took one step inside before stopping. He looked from Janus to Virgil and back.

“Janus? Why are you dressed like that? What’s going on?”

Janus shared a glance with Virgil. They both looked back to Patton.

Then they both burst into laughter.

“Guys!?”

Janus stumbled backwards to sit on his bed. Virgil doubled over, his own knees threatening to collapse from the emotional roller coaster this night had been.

“Patton, dearest, come here,” Janus said, holding out a hand as he wiped away his tears. Tears of joy, this time, and the thought swelled Virgil’s heart.

Patton gave Virgil a worried glance as he crossed the room toward Janus, only to be pulled, yelping, into the latter’s lap.

“Janus! Virgil-”

“Has something he’d like to say to us. Doesn’t he?” Janus’s eyes were so warm, so mirthful, and yet there was still some hesitation, some fear. It was time to put a stop to that doubt, once and for all.

Virgil shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and hid behind his bangs. Despite knowing the likely outcome, he was- surprise, surprise- anxious about actually voicing it. He never thought he’d ever have to actually say it, and the last few minutes didn’t count, because Janus said it first. He gave himself a moment to compose himself.

He stared at the two of them, the two he’d fallen deeply and wholly in love with, and took a deep breath.

Then another.

One more-

“Virgil,” Janus said, his voice tender and gentle and oh, how Virgil loved that it was directed at him, “if you don’t want to do this now-”

“No,” he said, shaking himself out, “this ends here. Or, begins, I guess.”

Patton looked between them again, comprehension dawning as he looked into Virgil’s eyes. No doubt he’d noticed the eyeshadow by now.

“Patton. Janus. I, uh, I like. You?” Virgil cringed. “No, wait! I can do better!”

They waited patiently, with watery eyes and tender smiles. God, Virgil loved them.

“I love you. Both of you.” Virgil exhaled, eyes closed. There. It was over.

There was whispering, then the sound of cloth and springs and movement and footsteps. Virgil opened his eyes to see Janus and Patton standing side-by-side and hand-in-hand in front of him, holding out their free hands toward him.

He took them gratefully and they pulled him in to plant a kiss on both of his cheeks. His face burned.

“We love you, too, Virgil.”

---

@mimssides look what i did! happy ending! (don’t read the other one lol)

#sanders sides fics #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #moxceit #my fics #implied attempted suicide #no one dies #this is technically an alternate ending #the tragic version came first #but i thought a happy ending might be nice too #especially since someone very dear to me cannot read my more tragic stories and i would like them to know that they inspired this happy one #i posted them separately bc idk a better way to do alternate endings with major triggers #i am really getting into these poly ships lately #honestly as long as janus is in it i'm happy #and probably obsessed lbr #reblogs help i guess but i mainly write for my own enjoyment #leave a comment if you want to