#I thought a minute ago about the puppets being sick thing

[sweetest-honeybee]

I was gonna say "wait how do puppets sweat" and then realized that doesnt matter at this point because these puppets are sentient and one of them is being bullied by a house

hA

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Golden Cage

Summary: Money really does not buy happiness…

Pairing: Elijah Kamski x afab!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Content Warnings: Emotionally Charged PWP 18+!, Elijah Playing Mind Games, Mentions Of Self-Harm, Mentions Of Alcohol, A Brief Moment Of Crying, A Clearly Toxic Relationship, Choking, Degradation/Praise, Unprotected P In V, Elijah Talking Reader Through It, Breeding Kink, No Aftercare Because…Elijah

A/N: This might just be one of the horniest things I've ever written…

Also, you know me, of course I've put together an Elijah Kamski playlist by now!

Tagging those who might be interested: @spookyorchid @blueberrypancakesworld @herprivateisland @queer-crusader

Half algorithm, half deity

Glitches in the code or gaps in a strange dream

Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy

Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen

- Ascensionism by Sleep Token

Calm, nearly silent breathing was the only minuscule sound that filled the darkness of the bedroom around you. With your eyes forcefully shut, you tried to fall asleep, had been at it for at least the past 30 minutes but your racing mind always flung back to the dull ache emitting from the palm of your right hand. The fresh memories of clasping too tightly around a delicate glass of champagne completely on purpose until it shattered into sharp smithereens circulated in your thoughts, taking lap after lap, whilst you sought to calm the still raging anger in your chest.

Although the worst part of your desperation-fueled tantrum was over, the leftover flickers of outrage still prevailed. By whatever god out there, you were so sick of it. So sick of being stuck in this mansion with the world very much at your fingertips but no way to get out. No way to leave this designer-architected hellhole to lead a normal life and just be one of millions again, no. That train left the station years ago when you had started out as a simple intern at CyberLife and Elijah Kamski, the prodigy high up above, the demi-god of modernization himself took an interest in you and you greedily grabbed the hand of opportunity not only by its pinky. Back then not even the sky seemed to be the limit but now you found yourself trapped between silken duvet covers and marble-tiled rooms.

“Would you listen to me for a moment?” Elijah’s calm tone from behind pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Uh-huh…” It rolled over your tongue in an exhausted murmur.

“Does it hurt badly?” You felt him scooting closer, his tall frame cupping your backside.

“So so…” You huffed, shrugging your tense shoulders.

“Let me see.” Elijah’s fingertips snaked along your waist down to your hips, tracing your elbow from there on upwards until his palm wrapped itself around your wrist.

In a gentle and slow movement, he pulled your hand closer to his face.

“It’ll be okay.” You tried to dismiss it.

“Eventually.”, Elijah agreed right before you felt his plush lips planting soft pecks along your knuckles, “I’m sorry it came to this in the first place.”

"Are you?" You inquired with a carefully aimed edge to your tone.

"Please, don't be like that now. Of course I'm sorry that you're hurt." Elijah groaned quietly, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand.

His slight annoyance gave you a little kick, because it was exactly what you wanted to coax out of him. A reaction, an acknowledgement of your discomfort, your seemingly endless boredom.

"Yet I also wonder why nothing I offer you ever seems to be enough…", Your senses perked up at his words because you knew what was about to happen and you really needed it to, "Haven’t I given you everything, love? Am I not spoiling you rotten?"

Every little bit of his accusations went straight to your head and you let them in, craved for Elijah to get into your mind like that because it brought you a twisted sense of comfort in the way it belittled your needs.

"You do." You agreed, the slowly building blame gradually covering the biting loneliness stinging in your chest.

"So what more do you want?" Elijah hummed against the shell of your ear, lulled you in further with his warm breath breezing along your neck.

"Your attention. You left the company but you still don't seem to be here…with me.", It trickled from your lips in an honest answer, "You're everywhere all the time but not here."

The latter sentence felt like clawing its way out of your lungs, leaving you raw and sore on the inside for letting slip how much you really needed Elijah to throw you but a morsel of his affection every now and then. With that, you sensed your facade slipping away. The anger and pretentious pride had failed to cover up the puddle of hurt you felt yourself being drenched in and for a split second you pondered whether you really crushed that dainty champagne flute to gather his attention or if that had been you, punishing yourself for still craving his attention.

Whilst trying to take a deep breath, you noticed your chest trembling and your bottom lip quivering dangerously. You were unmistakably about to lose it completely but bit down onto your tongue harshly enough to keep yourself from falling apart at the seams.

"Turn around. Can you do that for me?" He withdrew his hand from your wrist to give you enough space to shuffle around underneath the expensive duvet.

In an haphazardly executed attempt to pull back the burning tears gathering at your lower lash line, you slowly turned around to look straight into an unexpectedly calm expression on Elijah’s face.

Calm or indifferent? It crossed your mind but you banished that thought right back to where it emerged from. Instead, your eyes slowly roamed over his features, from his lips that were slightly curled up into a hardly even there smile to his striking blue eyes and eventually up to the vagrant strands of his darkish blonde hair framing and softly falling into his face.

Looking at Elijah like that damn near killed you from the inside out because it reminded you of the version of him you had fallen in love with years ago. The witty and incredibly sharp CEO that worked alongside his developers instead of secluding himself in an ivory tower of vanity. The man that had even conducted the interview for your apprenticeship himself whilst cradling a cardboard cup of coffee in his hands, the fuzzy sleeves of a blue zipper pulled up to his knuckles, his eyes sparkling at you with endless excitement.

Now, barely anything of that warmth was left. With the years it all went down the drain of multimillion dollar deals over hordes and hordes of androids. Sometimes you felt as if Elijah grew a little colder with every android that sold and a part of you had started hating them for seemingly taking him away from you, eating away at his own humanity piece by piece. You couldn't decide whether or not those thoughts and speculations had anything to them, really, yet you couldn’t stop them from crossing your mind every now and then.

"Some days I wake up wishing to be just another android so you'd tend to me, Eli." The words bubbled out of you in an unbridled gush of emotions, just like the first burning tears spilling over your lash line.

"Come on now, that's nonsense. You're irreplaceable and you know that." Elijah’s brows arched up, closely knit together in a borderline scolding expression, disdain over your utterings washing across his face.

"Do I?", You sniffled, his harsh and cold response cutting right through you, "It's getting quite hard to hold on to that, Elijah, when the only thing you get reminded about on the daily is how utterly invisible you are."

"Stop that right there. You're not invisible to me and now you're just throwing around words." Elijah's eyes narrowed down on you in growing irritation.

"Throwing around words, yeah?", His dismissal came like a ladle full of ethanol to the embers of your rage fit, actively making you spew the most hurtful things that were waiting right at the tip of your tongue, "Do you fuck them?"

"Excuse me?" For a split second it seemed as if Elijah’s jaw was about to drop.

"Do you fuck your robots?" You repeated yourself, a surge of pride for having rendered him dumbfounded for the blink of an eye tugging at your lips before the mere thought of it turned you blind with jealousy.

"No." Elijah stated bluntly, his teeth slightly clenching.

"Oh?", You mocked, pushing it further, "How come?"

"Because none of them…", He sneered, his hand darting upward for it to grab you by the throat in a firm grasp, "None of them could ever be as feisty as you are, love."

You heard your breath hitching and felt Eli's thumb brush over your pulse point as he leaned in, his lips almost touching yours.

"Because I can't feel their pulse picking up or see their pupils widening like yours right now, getting so terribly worked up and flustered over being talked to like that, hm?", You were painfully aware how the heat crept into your face with every word of his, "Because my androids don't need to be put in their place because they wouldn't get so catastrophically mouthy and bratty, now would they?"

"No, no.", He answered his own question with a sly smirk playing around his mouth whilst the clasp of his hand grew tighter until he could feel every quickened pump of your heart right underneath his skin, "They follow a script, a code, they are boring…so unlike you."

Elijah leaned in further, eventually closing down on the tiny bit of space left between your bodies, his lips eagerly pressing onto yours for the first time in days. His proximity, the bare presence of him sent your mind reeling, it soothed the boiling anger in your chest but it wasn't enough, not enough in the slightest to still your aching need for his affection.

A slightly pained mewl of yours got muffled by his tongue snaking into your mouth as your hands practically clawed onto his sides, the brutalized one, with its countless thin cuts, flaring up anew.

"Ouw, does that hurt?" He cooed into your mouth, his free hand shooting towards yours resting on his hip and pressing down harder.

"I'm afraid that's what you get for being naughty, acting up like that. Poor little attention whore." The unmistakably derogatory tone in his voice jolted right amidst your thighs, causing you to clench and throb around nothing.

" 'M sorry…" It fell from your lips in a breathless moan, your words sincere.

You truly felt sorry about being so whiny and bitchy when Elijah gave you everything you could possibly dream of.

"Oh, shut up. I don't want to hear anything from you right now. Not a single fucking thing. You got that?" You nodded and choked back a whine as Eli latched his teeth at your bottom lip, pulling and dragging your head along until he let it slip again.

"There you go, looks like you can listen after all." To reward your silence, he freed your throat from his tight grasp but only to lean himself on his elbow whilst shoving himself on top of you.

On instinct, you spread your legs for him pathetically fast, calves wrapping around his waist in an instant.

"Good girl.", Elijah hummed against your cheek, nearly coaxing a whimper out of you as his other hand slid between your bodies, slender fingers playing over your trembling stomach and eventually down to align himself with your entrance, the tip of his cock prodding against your already oozing cunt, "I'd never fuck an android and you know why? Because they'd never just get oh so hot and desperately wet like you do, love."

His breathing rendered more labored with every inch of him that spearheaded into you, stretching you out to accommodate him properly. With furrowed brows, you bit down on your bottom lip, hiding your flustered face in his shoulder to shut down every possible sound that might come out of your mouth upon feeling Elijah drilling into you.

"Wouldn't waste a thought on it when I can just be balls deep inside your perfect pussy." His hushed voice intoxicated you as he started rocking his hips into your lap at a reckless pace right away, a heavy moan threatening to erupt from your lungs.

God, you wanted to groan and whine out your hammering arousal so badly but shoved it all back down your throat as hard as you possibly could. It almost felt like a sore, dry lump forming right behind your tongue that you couldn't do anything about but to swallow it over and over again.

"Not even I could build something so magnificent as you are." Eli's hot breath stroke over your jawline and everything in you clung onto these words, although, for the blink of an eye, you found yourself wondering if that was just him getting increasingly drunk on your body with each and every hard roll of his waist, not pulling out fully before hammering into you again.

"Maybe I should just knock you up sometime soon, huh?", In a weak attempt to steady yourself, you clawed at his back, fingernails digging into his skin, "Actually creating a life, I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

Instead of words, your body delivered the answer to that. To silence everything that was just on the brink of shooting out of your mouth, your body convulsing and shuddering in a quiet orgasm, you bit down on your bottom lip so hard that you were almost sure to draw blood.

"Fuck, pulling me in so desperately." In a frantic rut, the rhythm of his movements gradually faltering, Elijah pressed his lips to yours again with a nearly bruising force.

"Such a good girl, trying to be obedient and quiet for me." He noted you violating your bottom lip whilst shoving himself into your spasming cunt as far as he could one last time before his own climax took over.

You felt it spurt out of him, filling you up that extra notch and it took every last bit of self-control to not just let your head loll back into the satin-covered pillows and whine out at the sensation.

"Fucking hell…that was so overdue, I give you that." With a low groan, Elijah pulled out of you, moving his body to collapse next to yours.

Letting your abused bottom lip finally slip from between your teeth, you felt the emotional whiplash washing right over the blissful release you experienced just moments before.

"Next time just tell me, no need to squash a glass with that pretty hand of yours."

[toaster-hair]

There’s a Human In The Neighborhood! (i apologize in advance)

chapter 2 babeyy

you get sick and snotty and someone comes to take care of you!

(if you havent read chapter 1, this series is NOT nsfw but does talk about bodily autonomy) 

It had been a few days since you moved into your new home. Thankfully, you have a toilet now, everything has been unpacked and organized, and your new neighbors even helped you paint your house! Unfortunately, after your little situation with the lost toilet, the word spread quickly across the neighborhood. Our new friend is a human! They poop! They need a toilet! They just kept asking you questions, of course. 

“Do you need multiple toilets? Are they one-use only?” Julie asked. You told her no, they can last for quite awhile. 

“Is pooping fun?” Sally asked. You told her that it might be fun for some weirdos, but it's not fun for most people.

Howdy made sure to get some toilets in the shop, just in case you ever needed another one. He would always offer a free one everytime you bought from there. Like as if you collected toilets. You actually thought about getting another one after he offered a golden toilet, but you ultimately declined.

All this talk about human anatomy, you barely had anytime to question puppet anatomy. They didn’t poop but they still ate, Wally in particular would eat with his eyes, which kind of freaked you out. Your house came with a shower, so they did shower, but why did they need to? Wouldn’t they get soggy?

With all of this questioning, you didn’t even notice you were sick! It was only until one particular day where your friendly mailman Eddie asked if you were okay. You looked pale, apparently.

So, you were staying in for awhile. You tried to mostly stay in bed and cuddle with your cat, but you kept having to get up to go blow your nose. Sometimes, you would blow it for 5 minutes straight. You hoped all the blowing wasn’t too loud, you didn’t want to disturb your neighbors. Your throat also felt dry and raspy. It felt like the word “hasty”, colored an icky beige and with the texture of chicken scratch. Despite being incredibly dry, taking at least 4 cups of water before it felt normal again, you could still feel all your snot running from your nose to the back of your throat, coating it in a disgusting film. 

You were in the bathroom, wiping your nose, as you felt what little food you ate that morning come back up in your throat. You quickly got to the toilet, throwing up in the bowl. You could feel all the little chunks spilling out. You were just glad that it ended as soon as it started. You watched it flush away as you grabbed your tooth brush, cleaning your dirty mouth. As you spit out the toothpaste, you heard a knock on your door. 

You slowly made your way to the door, the knocking doubling. You opened it and saw your town’s personal big bird Poppy Patridge! You greeted her, “Oh! Hello Poppy!” she looked relieved to see you “Do you need something?”

She shook her head “No, it's just that you haven’t come out of your house in a while. Everyone was worried sick, especially me and Wally.” she analyzed your face, looking to see if there was something wrong. “What’s the matter?”

You sniffled your nose. You didn’t know your neighbors liked you so much! You only moved in a few days ago. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just sick is all. Threw up a couple of minutes ago, haha.” 

“Oh my, are you okay?” she asked as she forced herself in “I thought that might’ve been the case, so I brought some chicken soup!” you didn’t even notice the large bag she brought with her, watching her unpack a lot of different care items, from the previously mentioned chicken soup, to pain medicine. Wait, chicken soup? Why would Poppy have that, if she’s a bird…

Next thing you knew you were being tucked into bed. “I’ll go warm it up. You just stay and rest, ok?” you obliged. Your kitty cuddling you closer as you feel your nose bubble up. It was only a few minutes until Poppy ran back into your room. “Here, I have some warm chicken soup, some cold medicine, some tea, a bucket in-case you threw up again, and tissues!” you watch her organize everything quite quickly. “Oh wow, thank you Poppy.” she shook her head “Oh, no need to thank me.”

You picked up the chicken soup and slowly ate. Poppy sat on a chair next to your bed, watching you with caring eyes. “Do you feel any better?” you shook your head slightly “No. but it tastes good.” then you thought about it again. “Hey, um, Poppy? You’re a bird.. Why do you have chicken soup?” Her head tilted. You continued, “I mean, a bird eating another bird.. Wouldn’t that be cannibalism?”

She laughed. She laughed right in your face. You felt a bit humiliated. “Oh honey, of course it’s not cannibalism! I mean, first of all, don’t birds already eat each-other? Secondly, puppet birds and human birds are much different!”  you were confused. “Human birds?” you asked.

“Well, yes. I’m a puppet bird, but the chicken in your soup is a human bird. Howdy is a puppet caterpillar, but the ones you watch turn into butterflies are human caterpillars! It’s like how Wally is a puppet person, and you’re a human person!” she explained as she gestures with her hands. “Oh, speaking of Wally, I should probably go tell him you’re alright.” she reaches out her hand and pets your cute little kitty. “Hi little kitty.. You keep your owner company as they regain health, alright? Well, I’ll be off then. Goodbye!”

You watched her get up and leave. Hey, wait a minute, she didn’t ask you what getting sick was. So, puppets get sick? Did you pick up something from one of your neighbors? You’ll have to ask them later. You just continued eating your chicken soup.

(A/N: still trying to figure out what kinds of things i can write about without getting into nsfw territory)

[iris-writesx]

the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me | stede x ed x izzy

read it here or read it on ao3 <3

i’ve spent about a week writing down details and plans for this au that i’m starting, and i planned to introduce it with a fluffy christmas fic, but i had a bad mental health day and projected my heart and soul into stede and this is the result. i’m sorry if this was a rambled mess or if some of it doesn’t make sense, most of it is based on my own experience. sending love to anybody who can relate <3

but first au!!! yay!!! i love these guys with my whole heart and the idea of them in love and living together is just *chef’s kiss*

let me know if you like it! and if you want to see other things! i feel like this isn’t the best opener to the au as things i have planned are more lore heavy but i kinda like this so here you go akdnwkf

title is from “peace” by taylor swift x

4.6k words — modern day au, hurt-comfort, anxiety, dissociation, panic attacks

more from this au; and now i see daylight

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Stede didn’t know why.

He didn’t know why it happened — why sometimes, the pit inside of him opened up wide enough to swallow him whole. Didn’t know what caused it, why he felt that way, he just… did.

And he hated it. He hated not being able to talk to people, zoning out, barely able to do anything other than listen to music and cry. He forced himself through the motions of the day — breakfast, drive himself and Izzy to work, do work, eat lunch, go home, have dinner, shower, sleep — but on days when he didn’t feel good, it seemed mechanical. Like following instructions. Not like… not like life.

He could tell when he woke up to an empty bed that it was a bad day. Stede was usually the first one awake, and unless he’d been up late the previous night or sick — and he was neither — then it was going to be a bad day.

He was zoned out as he sat up, pulling on one of Ed’s shirts and his joggers, barely focused on anything as he sipped from the water he kept by the bed. His head felt like it was underwater, a little numb and a little thick, and by the time he had made it to the kitchen he felt like a puppet on strings.

The first gut punch of the day was that Ed had already left for work.

Usually, they all woke up together and had about an hour until Ed had to leave first, as the garage he worked at opened at eight o’clock. Stede knew that people wouldn’t be going to a library that early, so he chose not to open his shop — his shop, would have usually made him smile, but it did nothing to cut through the fuzz in his head — and instead opened closer to ten o’clock. Though, he and Izzy got there an hour earlier to set up for the day.

Stede stopped in the doorway of the living room, blinking. Izzy — already dressed and sipping his morning coffee — was in his armchair, and the spot where Ed would usually be was empty.

Part of Stede was upset that he hadn’t come to say goodbye, or Izzy hadn’t woken him up, but he knew they wanted him to get enough sleep. Probably just thought he was tired.

“Stede?”

Stede blinked, eyes back on Izzy, face a little flushed when he realised he must’ve zoned out. He cleared his throat and put on a smile, one that didn’t even feel convincing. “Morning, darling. When did Ed leave?”

“About ten minutes ago. Was just about to come wake you up, are you okay?” Izzy had that look — the one he got when he was worried, looking for whatever was wrong.

Stede put more effort into his smile that time and nodded, forced himself to walk further into the room and over to his partner. “I’m perfect, was just a little tired last night,” he leaned down to kiss Izzy, felt his partner’s hand squeezing his waist lightly. “Did you sleep well, love?”

—

Stede mechanically followed through the rest of his morning.

He had a tea with Izzy, before he went to get dressed in the first clothes he could find, didn’t spend half an hour putting an outfit together like he usually would. If Izzy noticed he was quick, he didn’t mention it.

He skipped breakfast, told Izzy he just fancied a pastry from the café tucked away at the back of his library — the café that Izzy worked at, so really, it was a terrible lie because he’d know if Stede didn’t eat anything. The thought of eating made his stomach turn, he didn’t want anything.

He got his bag for work, made sure Izzy had everything he needed, before going out to the car and drove them there.

He unlocked his shop, and busied himself getting set up; put new books out, organised shelves, greeted the staff as they all showed to work. He let Lucius talk away to him behind the counter about his date with Pete — who coincidentally worked at the garage with Ed — but Stede couldn’t really recall much from the conversation. He hadn’t really been listening.

It was a Sunday, so the saving grace there was that they could get out early, and Ed would be home before them for once since he got off work at lunch time. But they barely had many customers on Sundays, people preferred to be cozy at home.

That’s where Stede wanted to be. Curled up in bed, not thinking, not conscious.

The morning dragged, and by the time twelve o’clock rolled around Stede couldn’t take the silence of the store anymore. The lack of customers and the silence meant that he had time to think — about how much of a failure he was, and how Izzy and Ed probably preferred each other over him, and how he couldn’t be normal, how he couldn’t, he just-

Stede put the stack of books down that he had been carrying and dug into his pockets, pulled out his phone, and his other hand searched for his earbuds.

On days like that, he learned that music helped a little. And a little was enough to keep him sane enough until he could go home.

But his other pocket was empty.

“Lucius?” Stede looked over at him, forced a smile. “Could you stay by the desk for a minute? I need to go out back for something.”

Once Lucius had waved him off he quickly walked through the door behind the desk and into the staff room, searching for where he had put his bag. He found it next to Izzy’s, and every moment that passed as he rooted through it and didn’t find his earbuds, the more worked up he got.

He even resorted to digging through Izzy’s bag, just in case he had dropped them in there by accident, but he couldn’t find them.

He hadn’t brought them.

It was such a silly thing, but it was enough for Stede’s eyes to well with tears, huffed out breaths as he leant against the wall and tried to keep from crying.

But he was so… so strung out, and tired, and overwhelmed, and he couldn’t even stop his stupid brain from overthinking he just-

He choked on a sob and, mortified, covered his mouth with his hands in the hopes that Lucius hadn’t heard him.

Once the damn had broken he had no hope of mending it again, so he stood like a child in the corner of his office and cried.

On days like that Stede wished he could just… stop existing. Disappear. Not have to deal with- with whatever this was.

He was still trying to muffle his crying into his hands when the door opened, and his eyes widened when he looked up to see who had walked in, expecting Lucius or Frenchie — the two who predominantly worked in the library section of his shop with him — but it was Izzy.

He looked just as shocked as Stede did, he clearly hadn’t been expecting to see Stede breaking down in the staff room.

“Stede?” Izzy pushed the rest of the way into the room, shut the door behind him, and wasted no time in going over to hold Stede’s shoulders.

He couldn’t tell if he was more comforted by Izzy’s presence or embarrassed.

“S-sorry-” he sniffled, looked anywhere but at Izzy’s face. “I- god I’m okay, I just- fuck I’m sorry, Iz- Izzy-”

“Stede,” Izzy squeezed his shoulders, his voice hard and grounding. “Take it easy, okay?”

But he couldn’t, not now that he had opened the barrier. Stede all but fell apart, choking on his tears and mumbled apologies and just- he couldn’t help it. He felt so embarrassed and stupid and ugly, and there was nothing he could do.

He only registered the familiar ache in his chest when he felt Izzy’s grip tighten, and he shook him a little, and it was only then that Stede realised that Izzy was talking to him, he just hadn’t been focusing enough to hear it.

The only thing he could focus on was the drumming of his heart against his rib cage, the ache in his chest that was there because-

Oh god he couldn’t breathe.

Izzy shook him again, a little more violently, and Stede blinked at him, eyes wide and choking on his sobs and not getting enough air in-

Izzy grasped one of his hands and pulled it forwards, laid it upon his chest. And though his drumming heartbeat and the buzzing in his ears stopped him from hearing Izzy, he could see what he was doing — he had exaggerated his breaths and kept Stede’s hands firmly planted on his chest, allowed him to feel the steady rise and fall, to let him copy it.

It took a little bit of time for him to fall into the rhythm of it. By the time he had stopped crying heavily enough to actually make a decent effort, he had both hands planted on Izzy’s chest and his eyes screwed shut, just let himself focus on the rise and fall of his chest.

Rise, inhale, fall, exhale; over and over and over.

Stede couldn’t tell if they had been at it for minutes or hours, but eventually he had calmed enough to breathe steadily. The tears were still falling but they were merely silent streams, nothing as- as dramatic as before.

Stede’s hands slipped from Izzy’s chest, and with what little energy he had drained, he opened his eyes to look at Izzy. And the expression he had on his face was so… so mortified. He hadn’t meant to worry him, or freak him out. Just the thought that he had upset him made his eyes brim with more tears.

Izzy sighed, and didn’t say anything as he took Stede into his arms, let him melt against his body. His arms held Stede tightly, and despite himself he felt good. Izzy had always been a firm presence, a stronghold for Stede. Where Ed tended to be better with words, Izzy made him feel safe.

He stood there for a while longer. Felt Izzy’s hands as they dragged up the length of his back and back down rhythmically, like they weren’t both missing their shifts by being shut away in the staff room.

Stede was the one to pull away, and the next time he looked at Izzy he still looked just as worried.

“Sorry,” his voice was hoarse as he lifted his hands to wipe at his eyes, took a deep shaking breath. “Sorry, Iz- thank you, you didn’t need to- that was very nice of you.”

Izzy frowned. “You want to tell me what has you so tightly wound?”

“It-” Stede hesitated. He’d never really… vocalised how he got on those days to Izzy and Ed. They knew he had anxiety, and that sometimes he had bad days, but he’d never told them what it was like, what to look for. And, in the middle of both of their shifts, it certainly wasn’t the time to get into that discussion, so he settled on, “I left my earbuds at home,” Stede paused, suddenly embarrassed at how silly he sounded. “I know that sounds stupid, I’m not- I mean, I’m okay I just- I think I’m a little stressed and I just wanted to listen to music but without the buds I, well, can’t.”

“That’s not stupid,” Izzy shook his head, like he knew something else was wrong. “But you won’t need them anymore.”

Stede frowned. “Well I- I mean, we’re working until four so I hardly think I’ll survive the shift without them,” he exhaled deeply, wiped his eyes again, before looking back at Izzy. “Do I look okay? I don’t want customers to tell I’ve been crying.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Izzy scowled. “You aren’t going back to work, Stede, you almost just fucking collapsed.”

“…that’s a bit of an overstatement.”

Izzy glared at him. “We’re going home. Come on.” He left no room for argument as he stepped around Stede and collected both of their bags, tossed Stede’s jacket at him, and hung his own over his arm, before he was shepherding Stede back out of the office and into the library.

“We’re going home,” Izzy announced to Lucius as they walked by, and Stede made sure not to look up at him so he couldn’t see the tears on his face. “Stede feels unwell.”

“What?” Lucius groaned. “That leaves four of us to run this whole shebang, Iz.”

“This place is fucking empty, shut the shop. Go home early.” Izzy didn’t let Lucius add anything else as he just pushed Stede out of the shop and out towards the car park.

The cold air felt nice on his tear stained face, and Stede made sure to take some more deep breaths as they walked to the car. He didn’t even ask to drive — just let Izzy direct him to the passenger seat, where he got all buckled up and just let himself sit.

Izzy got into the drivers side and connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth — which had taken literally months for Stede to teach him how to do it — and once they were driving he called Ed.

“Izzy,” Ed’s voice came through the car’s speakers. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We’re on our way back now,” Izzy informed him. “Stede had a panic attack…”

Stede let himself zone out as he watched out of the window at the cars and trees that whipped past.

It was sat in his own thoughts that Stede realised how truly embarrassing the past hour had been. He was an adult, why did he need music playing to keep it together? Why had he gone into a panic attack over it? And Izzy… he’d probably made him so worried. He made him shut the store for him, all because he couldn’t keep it together.

Nothing was even wrong it was just… just his fucking mind, if anything was wrong it was him, him and his stupid thoughts and his-

There was a tight squeeze on his thigh and Stede jumped, startled, and whipped his head around to see Izzy looking at him.

“Sorry,” Izzy winced at his scare. “We’re home now.”

Stede looked back out of the window, actually focused, to see that they really were back home. The front door opened and he watched as Ed walked outside, giving a wave to the car, and by the look on his face — the poorly masked worry — Stede could only wonder what Izzy had said to him on the phone when he had zoned out.

Izzy took the bags again, so when he got out of the car Stede only had to grab his jacket. All of his movements, again, felt mechanical. Didn’t feel natural.

The only thing that did feel a little closer to normal were Ed’s arms around him once he was out of the car.

“Hey love,” Ed breathed into his hair, and Stede just sunk himself into his embrace. Ed was warm and familiar, it felt like hugging Izzy; good. “Iz said you had a bit of a moment at work. All okay?”

Stede clenched his jaw and nodded. A familiar feeling had built up in his throat, and he knew that if he spoke then he’d just cry.

“I made you some tea, that herbal shit you like. It’s in the living room. Thought you might wanna wear something comfy, too, so I got some clothes out for you to change into, that jumper of mine you can’t keep your hands off of-”

Ed cut himself off when Stede sobbed. He didn’t even know why he was crying at this point. It was just… his partners were so kind. He didn’t deserve it.

“Oh babe,” Ed squeezed him tight, rubbed his back. “Let’s get you inside, okay? We’ll get you all cozy, you’ll be okay.”

Stede nodded — he couldn’t say anything because he couldn’t stop crying — so he let Ed tighten his arm around his shoulders before he led him into the house, just behind Izzy who, Stede realised, had been waiting by the door worriedly. Between the two of them they got Stede over the threshold and into the house, where he was guided to just sit on the sofa in the living room. The change of clothes could wait — Stede didn’t even know if he had the energy to change.

He felt like he had been awake for a week straight. He felt like he wasn’t really there.

Ed had planted himself on the sofa right beside him, and when Stede focused on it he realised that he was rubbing his back, long firm. He let himself focus on that, dragging in breaths in time with the movement.

“You’re alright, mate,” Ed murmured beside him, pressed kisses to Stede’s shoulder in between his words. “We’ve got you, you’re okay.”

“Stede,” he only looked up when he heard Izzy’s voice in front of him, and realised he had a mug in his hand — the tea that Ed had promised. “Here.”

Stede forced a tearful smile as he took the mug in his hands, blinked through the blurriness of his vision as he sipped from the drink.

He wasn’t even sure if he was tasting it.

Instead of taking up his usual seat in his armchair, Izzy sat himself on the coffee table in front of the sofa, in front of Ed and Stede.

“What do you need, love?” Ed murmured from his side, voice soft, and to be completely honest Stede just wanted to stop being so useless. But he knew Ed wouldn't take well to hearing those words.

Stede shrugged, glanced between Ed and Izzy, but when he felt his face burning from the shame of his actions that day he just shrugged and locked his eyes onto his tea. “I don’t know,” he whispered, sniffled through his tears. “I- I’m sorry I don’t- I’m okay I just- it’s silly-”

“If you fucking say that one more time-” Izzy started grumbling in front of him, but shut himself up when Ed gave a swift nudge to his leg.

“What Izzy means to say,” Ed rubbed his back again. “Was that it’s not silly, mate. You’re having a bad day.”

Stede nodded, though didn’t look up nor did he speak. He just sipped his drink slowly, let the embarrassment swallow him whole.

It really was shameful, the whole thing. He was a grown man, he shouldn’t have days where he was so out of control of his own emotions — toddlers had days like that, not- not men. If his father could see him he’d be even more disappointed than usual—

His heart was thumping in his chest again; he could feel it as it sped up, drumming loudly and too fast and almost too forcefully—

What made it worse was that it clearly had such an effect on Izzy and Ed, and Stede hated that; hated that Izzy had to calm him down from a panic attack over nothing, that he had to leave work early, that Ed had to worry and make him a drink and lay clothes out for him like a child. He knew, he knew, that they cared — Stede had never felt so cared for in his whole life, he truly felt like it was the first time he had people who saw him. But that didn’t mean he had to make them worry, had to burden them. Their lives couldn’t revolve around him—

He could feel his heartbeat in his head, in his ears, against his rib cage—

Stede just needed to grow up, needed to-

“Stede-”

He flinched when his cup was wrenched from his hands, tea slopped over the side of the mug, and his eyes were wide as he just stared at Izzy, who was just staring back, holding the mug.

“I-” Stede inhaled, his hands started to shake. “I was- I was going to drink it, Iz, I’m sure it’s lovely-”

“You almost dropped it,” Ed supplied from his side. “You just- fuck, man, you were just staring at the floor for a while and then I thought you were gonna fuckin’ pass out on us.”

He looked at Ed — Ed, who was usually so cheery and smiley, who looked almost gaunt with his worry — and at Izzy — Izzy, who had that look on his face again — and Stede had to swallow through the sudden nausea that clenched in his stomach.

He was being too much for them. He didn’t need to bother them.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m sorry, loves, I didn’t- didn’t mean to worry you-” Stede breathed, before his bottom lip trembled and he forced out, “I- I can go and stay at Lucius’, he w-won’t mind, I can just-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Izzy blurted out. “Why would you- do you want to stay there?”

“No!” Stede choked out, his heartbeat quickening again. “No I- I want to be here but I’m just worrying you both because- because my mind is so stupid and won’t work today and I just-”

“Okay, okay, we get it, easy love,” Ed brought his arm around him and tucked Stede into the curve of his side, pressed his lips to the crown of his head. “You aren’t going anywhere, okay? We want you right here.”

Stede sniffled into Ed’s shirt, utterly exhausted. All he had been doing for what felt like the past few hours was just cry, and he wanted to just stop. His eyes squeezed shut, not quite sobbing, but he did huff out through his tears, mumbled, “I’m so tired.”

He felt a hand as it squeezed his knee, and he didn’t even look, knew it was Izzy. His hand dropped down to cover it with his own trembling fingers.

“What’s going on, hm?” Ed was just murmuring against his head, and it felt nice. His breath was something Stede could focus on, felt it as it hit his skin with every word. “Did something happen at work? Shitty customers? I’ll come down there, Stede, and feed them their fucking teeth I swear-”

“No,” Stede let out a quiet wet laugh, shook his head. “No, it’s not… it’s not anything, really.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Izzy grumbled, squeezed his knee again.

“It’s…” Stede sighed, blinked through his tears and looked between the two of them. “It’s hard to explain. I’m sure you don’t want to be bored by my silly little story-”

“Hey,” Izzy squeezed his knee a little harsher than before and Stede jumped, looked up to meet his eyes. “If it’s causing you this much grief it’s not silly, okay? Stop downplaying this shit, Stede. It matters.”

Stede blinked at Izzy, swallowed the lump in his throat, and forced a nod. “Sorry,” he breathed. “I’m just…” he inhaled, unsure how to put it, and gestured between them all. “I’m not used to… to people caring.”

Both Izzy and Ed seemed to deflate, then, and Stede almost wished to take it back… but Ed kissed his temple and Izzy pulled his hand up and kissed his fingers, and maybe he didn’t need to take it back.

“Well we certainly care, so tell us what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Ed punctuated his words with another kiss to his head.

Stede looked down at his lap, curled his fingers of his spare hand into the material of his sleeve. “So… um, so, you both know how I can sometimes maybe get… well, how I do get — quite often actually — um, anxious,” he watched as both of them nodded before he continued, “well, sometimes it… it really overwhelms me and it just… it sticks and doesn’t go away and I don’t know what causes it, but I just feel really detached, but at the same time overwhelmed, and- and there’s nothing that helps I just feel… I just feel really shitty.”

There was certainly a lot more that he could have said, explained it better, but from the looks on his partners faces they seemed to get the gist of it.

Stede was expecting one of them to say something, whether it was something good or something bad — realistically he knew that wouldn’t happen, but nothing about his thought process that day had been realistic — so he momentarily froze in shock when Izzy leaned forwards and kissed him. It took him a moment for his body to catch up with his brain and Stede reciprocated, felt a little lighter by the time Izzy pulled away.

“…that was very nice, dear.” Stede whispered, unsure of what to say.

“Stede,” Ed spoke, then, squeezed his side and didn’t continue until he met his eyes. “Nothing about that shit is silly, okay?” His hand cupped Stede’s cheek and he leant into the warmth. “It’s… it’s a lot, fuck man I’d be a mess if I dealt with that, so you’re already doing better than I could have.”

Stede shrugged, eyes dipped down. “It’s not really an appropriate reaction-”

“Hey,” Ed lightly pinched his cheek, startled him into looking back up. “It’s okay, you can’t help any of it, can you?”

Stede shook his head slowly, glancing at at Izzy before back at Ed. “Suppose not.”

“Right,” Ed nodded, stroked beneath his eye with his thumb, before he leaned in to kiss the spot gently. “It’s okay. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

For the first time that day Stede felt like he could finally breathe. He deflated a little, glanced between them again, murmured, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Apologise again and I’ll chuck this tea over you,” Izzy threatened, and Stede laughed a little, and it felt nice. “You have nothing to be sorry for, just… when it gets like this, you can tell us.”

“Right, yes, you can,” Ed chimed in. “Or if you feel like you can’t say it then you can, I dunno, write us a note. Stick it to the fridge or something, I’ll see it.”

Izzy turned to glare at Ed. “You never read anything on the fridge.”

“Yes I do, thank you very much.”

“What about the shopping list?”

“…handwriting was too small-”

“Or the bills? Or the letter from your mother-”

Funnily enough, it was listening to them bicker that made Stede’s eyes fill with tears again. He just- he had been so frustrated over it, and so overwhelmed by the bulk of his anxiety, and now that they had talked the relief was emotional. He felt loved and cared for, and even if he didn’t feel alright in the slightest, he knew there wasn’t a better place for him.

Their bickering was cut off when Stede threw his arms around both of their shoulders, pulling them all into a hug. It was at a bit of an awkward angle with Izzy on the coffee table, but all of them tucked their arms around one another and they all fit nicely into place.

“I love you both,” Stede choked out softly. “Very, very much. Thank you, loves.”

He felt kisses against his head as their arms tightened around him, and maybe for the first time in his life, Stede truly believed that he might, in the end of it all, be okay.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

comments would mean the world <3 requests are open!

[sinistersinister]

dragula finale liveblog, under the cut. i'll just make one post and type in it as i watch.

warning: spoilers ahead

first thought: a lip-synch? may the best monster win? this is just goth rupaul i guess.

second thought: the boulets are gorgeousssssss i LOVE their headpieces. anna-varney CUNTodea more like

skipping most of the confessionals. i want to be surprised. but i did catch nio's and it's like hoso's, part 2, but it's an important message and it still feels fresh.

love throb's filth idea.

ork remains colombian tommy wiseau. "my filth look is inspired by this... fucking GROSS slug... i found one time in a bathroom."

ork is such a sweetheart. i do not get why the fandom on reddit seems to hate him. i think it's probably classism and maybe a bit of racism. he's like what jay kay said they were-- up-front and honest and 'telling it like it is.' unlike jay kay, ork can actually dish it out AND take it, it seems like. (i do not dislike jay kay, but the way they were portrayed on the show made it seem like they were immature but not in the fun way. i do love a shit-stirrer but i like someone who's more incisive and self-aware about it.)

throb is very sincere and a bit socially inept. which i find charming.

i would have loved to see more of blackberri beyond 'nicey cutie with a beard.' like that weird tangent a few episodes ago about the christian traveling puppet show. like what? hello??? that was FASCINATING? she spent too much time being the producers' friend and not enough time being blackberri. imo.

at this point (~20 minutes in) i think nio's taking the crown.

FILTH TIME!

first thought: ork needs more goop for his slug to be gross. it's just cute, not filthy.

second thought: oh. oh THERE'S the slime. i am literally gagging so that's a good indication this was a 'successful' look. not the first time i've seen that pose from ork tho. nonetheless i would have liked more slime. it's a 'fucking GROSS slug,' so i want slimes and goops!

first thought: blackberri doing some christian puppetry callbacks with that suit. i think that's a good idea. playing to her strengths. it's kind of cute and menacing in an '80s mascot costume that was left in a warehouse and is now mildewed and spooky' way.

second thought: insufficiently filthy. ohhh you ate a raw fish. and? and? put more gross trash in your mouth! nose fell off too!

first thought: throb is also not sufficiently gross. but i love the lewk.

second thought: nvm i am again litcherally gagging. i have a thing about bubbly fluids and i was never more glad for 'switching tabs and looking away.'

fist thought: NIO OH GROSSSSSSSSSS. nio proving that the filthiest thing......is racism U___U. also slopping around in rotting food. that is also very nasty.

second thought: idk there was more potential for nio being gross. she came out so strong and i was underwhelmed by how gross she didn't get. make soy sauce come out of the pig foot strap on!!!!

winner: throb. i think a filth look is successful if it makes me feel sick.

post-show: oh, i didn't know ork was trying to literally puke. it would have been SO good if it had worked. next time put some ipecac on that tail, ork!

HORROR TIME

woah ork has great taste in obscure scary movies!!!! blackberri has a great taste in classic horror movies!!!! the girlies have done the reading!

nio: this could have been a glamour look. giving TITTYcut follies. i think the bodysuit was underwhelming though. same with the hairography.

blackberri: LOVE the idea and i think the execution is 80% there. the glittery blood is SO good. i just wish the skin looked more like skin and less like a trash bag? also lol at the silly little heels.

ork: jesus christ

throb: eh, whatever. why the pregnancy? i liked how unwholesome and distended the belly looked. maybe they could have leaned into that more?

winner: ork. i mean. come on. runner-up: blackberri based on concept alone.

GLAMOUR

oooh i just noticed the boulets' glove nails. we looooove

nio: best face, absolutely the most glamorous face. the bodysuit is good but i think it needs more rhinestones, or encrusted jewels from the sea, or something.

blackberri: nice but not especially glamorous? idk. i need more. and i haaaaated the necklace. it felt so out of place and like something i could get on aliexpress for 10 bux (and not in the ork "make something that cost next to nothing into art" way).

ork: i don't think it's uhhhh glamorous in the conventional way. i like it but i don't get 'glamour' from it. i think the number one ork critique (he can only do one thing) applies here.

throb: lmao this IS goth rupaul. complete with rose petal reveal. weird chest piece too. but unarguably glamorous. face was so good. also, they had the best performance. you can tell they were a burlesque performer. also, their gags finally worked :3 yaaaaay!

the music reminds me of the birthday massacre. nostalgic, to me.

winner: tie between nio and throb. this glamour section was probably the weakest of the three sections.

alright. all the sections are over.

based solely on the floor show i stand by my original assessment that it's nio's show to lose. throb (not memorable but quite good at what they do) and ork (one-trick pony, but that pony can fuckin PERFORM) tied for second. blackberri should not have made it this far. i do not think there should have been a top 4.

judging panel boulets again steal the show. i adore the wigs with the spiky sparkly gelled (?) points, and the luxurious big fluffy (feathery?) collars.

why tf are they hyping blackberri so much? what kind of dirt does she have on them? did something get lost in translation? is it something you have to see in real life and you're missing something otherwise?

aw at the boulets being nice to nio.

love the final lewks. my favorite is ork's because it's a callback to the dbz-looking thing he had for the blacklight challenge. nio's underwhelms me but it's a smart choice for if you're dunked in blood. the makeup is killer. throb's is ehhhh. blackberry's is quite glamorous and put together but insufficiently goth/weird for me. i do like the face pearls though!

YAAAAAAAAAY I WAS RIGHT NIO WON. and ork clapping his flippers in delight again :3

anyway. good season i guess. i hope jarvis is in a mental space where he's good to compete again for titans. and i hope there's nothing terrible that happened between nio and ork.

[sh4dowsdi3]

Interview: 2 (Llydia)

Word count: 974

Content warnings: Implied abuse

Synopsis: Llydia tells us about the strange man (or rather, thing) she met in the bathroom.

[8:30 am; We’re in a coffee shop on campus at the request of Llydia. She’s sitting across from me, sipping on a cup of iced water. She’s looking around the shop and hasn’t made eye contact with me at all.]

(Okay, let’s get started. Tell me about yourself.)

My name is Llydia Summerton. I’m 23 years old and I like reading and writing poetry.

(Okay, now, tell me your story.)

Well, I’m kind of a paranoid person. I’m very cautious when I’m in public; always checking my surroundings, making sure someone knows where I am, all of that stuff. Being a woman, I’ve learned the hard way that the world isn’t kind. When I was 15 my boyfriend used to… I was in an abusive relationship. Ever since then, I’ve been more reserved and a bit paranoid. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy or that I just imagined this because I’m 99% sure that this really happened.

One time, a couple months ago, I got out of class late because I needed to talk to my professor about one of our assignments. By the time I actually got out, the hallways were dead silent and empty.

(Can you tell me about what time you got out of class?)

It was around 6pm. I usually eat dinner at around 6 so I was starving at that point. I get anxious when I’m hungry so I went to the bathroom to wash my face and calm down. Then I ended up actually needing to pee.

I really hate that bathroom. There’s no lights above the stalls so it’s dim and creepy. Anyways, as I’m sitting on the toilet, I can hear the faucet dripping slowly. I wasn’t even peeing, I was just daydreaming. It was so silent that I could hear the lights buzzing. It was really cold too. I started breathing through my mouth to see if I could see my breath. For a solid minute I was just focusing on my breath. In and out, in and out, in and out…

Then I heard someone else breathing.

When they inhaled it was harsh and had a slight wheeze. When they exhaled it was soft and slow. I was frozen. I didn’t hear the door open and I was sure that no one was already in the bathroom when I came in. My eyes were getting dry from not blinking. Without moving my head, I looked below the stall door. Two bare feet. They didn’t look dirty and the toe nails were neatly cut. Then, slowly, I raised my head and looked above the door.

(Note: Llydia is picking at the skin on her fingers. Her ring finger on her left hand has started bleeding slightly.)

It was a head. It looked like a man but he looked weird. Do you know anything about the uncanny valley?

(I’ve heard of it, but please explain it to me.)

It’s basically when something looks so much like a human, but not quite. That’s why so many people are afraid of dolls or mannequins. There was something off about that man. His expression was blank. His eyes weren’t focused on anything and his smile… It was too wide. Like something was stretching his lips back.

Then he started climbing over the stall. I practically fell off the toilet trying to put my pants back on. He moved like a puppet. His arms were impossibly long and moved sporadically but his face kept that same bizarre expression. No person’s body should bend the way his did. He was hanging over the door and was reaching out towards me. I was huddled at the very back of the stall and his fingers still managed to graze my lips. I just- I couldn’t-

(Do you need a moment to compose yourself?)

Yeah. I’m sorry, I just feel sick.

[Llydia takes a big gulp of her water and chews on the ice.]

I couldn’t even scream for help. All I could do was cry. Snot and tears were running down my face. I didn’t know what to do! I cried so hard that my chest hurt.

Then he went limp. The feeling of his fingers falling down my body made me sick. I thought I was going to vomit. Everything was still for a second then his body flopped back over to the other side of the door. It was like someone was dragging him away. He made a fleshy thud when he hit the ground.

I didn’t hear the door open so I sat there for at least ten minutes before I checked to see if he was gone. I kind of peeked under the stall door on my hands and knees. No one was there so I just… got up, washed my hands, dried my face with some paper towels, and fixed myself up. But yeah… that’s my story.

(How did the rest of your night go?)

I didn’t eat. I just went back to my dorm and lied in bed. I didn’t eat breakfast the day after, or lunch, or dinner. I was so tired and starving. At some point during the night I ate some granola bars then I fell asleep. I remember that because I woke up feeling so groggy and sick.

Nothing like this has happened since though. I feel like I’m going crazy. Maybe school just isn’t for me. Maybe I should just drop out and go home… I don’t know what I would do back home though. Thank you for letting me get this off my chest.

(Thank you for sharing)

I’m so tired. I know I’m not going to drop out though. Crazy people can live somewhat normal lives right? I doubt that something this freaky will happen twice. I’m just going to keep my head down and graduate.

[End]

[shokami]

pairing : geto suguru x reader

warning(s): unresolved heartbreak. major character death. mentions of dislocating, and alcohol. jjk manga spoilers.

word count : 1.2k

time was a fickle thing. if you blinked, it felt like you were suddenly missing days, weeks, months, years. time was such a concept these days, that nothing felt real. how long had it been, now? a few seconds? or a few minutes? no. it had already been hours like this. sitting on the floor, and staring off into the distance. the sun once shone through the curtains and you hated how it reflected off of the window, feeling as if it stung your eyes and blinded you. now, it was gone. only the dim hue of the moon's glow graced your features.

everything felt as if it was slipping through your fingers. just like he had. it all started when he left the school, leaving you behind. his words still stung you, like a bee trying to defend itself. no. it was more like poison injected into your veins, the more you thought about it. the memories of him haunted you. unable to escape the dreams and nightmares of him that embedded themselves into your head, you sought to stay awake for days on end- but it didn't silence the thoughts or the moments you once shared together.

at one point, suguru was your everything. you couldn't have been happier than you were when you found yourself in his arms. nights were spent wrapped around each other, laughter filling your ears as you spent your time secluded from the outside world together. every part of you yearned for those times to come back to you… but now he was just a ghost of a haunted memory. sweet nothings turned into words of spite. soft touches, turned into hating the way his flesh burned against yours. nights spent alone, turned into being in groups; sick at the thought of spending time alone with the man. suguru hated what he was turning into, and how it forced you further and further away from his tight embrace.

those tender moments became ones of hate, and anguish. when the nights began to twist into something you both hated… you still couldn't bring yourself to truly rid yourself of him. no, you were foolish enough to believe you could rescue him from the darkness consuming him. too naive to believe that your best friend, and partner in this cruel life was turning into someone unrecognizable. before you knew it, he slipped from your grasp, and was gone forever.

where had the time gone?

just a few years ago, you were held firmly on the couch as you watched the stars peak through the windows. no words shared, as you sat in silence, other than the occasional soft spoken 'i love you'. in that instant, you hadn't known he would leave you behind with nothing but a 'i hate you'. in the last days before his disappearance, he tried desperately to get you to join his side. filling your head with thoughts of the two of you ruling the world together. his ideals were selfish, self centered, and filled with hatred for a species that you belonged to.

what irony.

geto suguru hated the human world, seeing them only as something that stood in his way of bettering himself and the sorcerers he held so dearly to his heart. never had he known he would fall in love with the one thing he despised the most… a human, too fragile for their own good. had you just been a ploy to him the whole time? surely, that's what you thought. he however, always tried so hard to reassure that you weren't like the rest of the 'monkeys' he sought to destroy, and have control over. despite it all, he loved you. yet, when it came down to it? you couldn't be the person he needed you to be.

the universe had no right to treat you both the way that it had. was it a kind of sick joke? for you to fall for a sorcerer, in a world you could never be a part of? you were nearly a puppet, being controlled and contorted into loving a man that was doomed. a man who would be left for dead. a man who soon expressed his rage and anger over how stupid, and fickle of a creature you were.

you didn't deserve his love. you never did. that's what he told you.

how could a moment of love turn into this?

after months of coping, drowning yourself in his words, and numbing yourself to the world of lost love… you finally moved on. then you heard the words slip from his best friend's lips. geto suguru was dead.

i don't relate to you… 'cause i'd never treat me this shitty.

the sun was rising once more. was it really another day, already? you sunk further and further away from reality. what were his last words? did he mention you? had he thought about you in his dying moments? did he feel remorse, or empathy for how he left? stuck between the feeling of yearning to know, and understand-- or hate the taste of his name in your mouth, and despise him for the person he had become.

you made me hate this city.

rising the glass to your mouth, the burning sensation returned once more to your aching throat. between the alcohol, and the screaming and crying of anguish; you were exhausted. on impulse, you picked up your phone and began quickly typing to a contact you knew would never reply again.

'i don't talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad. 'cause that shit's embarassing, you were my everything… and all that you did was make me fucking crazy. —you haunt my dreams now, you know that? i can't even sleep without thinking about your arms around me, or the way you kissed me, and told me i was your reason for simply existing… you broke me, and i hate you for it. i hate that i loved you. i hate that i was naive. i hate that i ever met you.’

tears rolled freely, and it stung your skin with each drop. you typed, and typed. running out of space over, and over again. pressing send over, and over again. god you hated this. why did it all end so suddenly? why were you not born into his world?

'i hate, that i don't hate you at all. i hate that you're gone. i hate that i can't scream at you for how reckless and stupid you were. i hate that i never left with you. you ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood…'

you wrapped yourself into the last thing of his that you owned. a sweater, that no longer held his scent. the same one you wore to bed for the past year. a sweater that now held your tears, from broken sobs. the same one he wore the day he told you his first 'i love you', and the same one he wore the day he screamed 'i hate you'.

'i love you… even when you made me miserable'.

'ERROR: the number you have tried to reach is no longer in service.'

i wish it wasn't true. . .

© All rights reserved by SHOKAMI. Do not modify, repost on any platforms, plagiarize, or claim as your own.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

As It Was (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello, everyone!

Summary: Everything has fallen apart in Westview, will Wanda be able to piece it back together? Will you be there to help her through it? With some surprise guests.

Song used: "As It Was" by Hozier (2019)

The anxiety in Wanda’s chest grew as she watched the twins struggle under Agatha’s magical hold. Despite the anxiety and fear clawing at her chest, Wanda kept her expression calm. She refused to let the twins think they were in danger and she'd be damned if she let Agatha see her fear.

“My powers work out here, or did you forget?” Wanda sneered.

Agatha smiled menacingly. “No, dear. I’m counting it.” The twins quickly attempted to escape only to be pulled back and thrown to the floor by their necks under Agatha's hold.

Wanda’s eyes widened in horror as she immediately sent a blast of energy at Agatha’s chest. The force of the blow sent the witch flying back and away from the twins. “Go home!�� She shouted to the two as the red energy flared around her hands.

Billy and Charlie rushed over to their mother's side.

“We’re staying!” Charlie insisted.

Billy nodded in agreement. “Mom we can help!”

Before Wanda could utter a word, Agatha rose from where she had been thrown. A smirk growing on the other woman’s face. “Yeah, Wanda. Let the kiddos help.”

“Now!” Wanda shouted, leaving no room for argument. Charlie wearily took Billy by the arm and flew away, both of the twin's eyes wide with worry. Wanda’s shoulder dropped slightly in relief knowing that at the very least the twins would be safe.

As Agatha approached, Wanda sent another blast of energy at her. She was stopped in her tracks when Agatha seemingly absorbed the energy. Her blood ran cold at the sight as her nerves grew.

The unease she felt fill her bones caused an unexpected spike of nervous energy to burst from the tips of her fingers and run a gap into the sky above her and into the far distance. After realizing what she had done, Wanda took a calming breath and the gap was repaired immediately.

“I take power from the undeserving. It’s kind of my thing.” Agatha explained mockingly when she saw Wanda scramble. “And you are the definition of undeserving.”

The red energy faded fully into Agatha’s hands and Wanda felt weakness appear in her own hand. She watched in horror as the color was drained. Almost as if the hand itself was dying out. Before she could fully process it, she felt a force push her chest and heave her down the street. Her body skidded to a stop, but the energy continued to linger around her.

“Look, Wanda, sweetheart. You have no idea what you’re doing. Clearly.” Agatha taunted as she moved closer. “So, why don’t you just surrender your magic to someone who actually deserves it. Like me. And I’ll let you keep this sick little fantasy all to yourself… What do you say?”

Wanda rose to her feet, her jaw clenched as the red wisps danced angrily around her fingers. With a small waggle of her fingers, a car was summoned and thrown into Agatha.

Breathing heavily, Wanda made her way over to the car to inspect only to find Agatha missing from the scene. The weary feeling in her chest grew.

Until she looked into the reflection in the cracked glass of the window to see you approaching from the distance. The fist that was clenched around her heart loosened at the sight. “Y/n.” She breathed out as she made her way over to you. “I was so worried about you.”

Silence was all she received as you continued to stare blankly back at her. Wanda fidgeted nervously. “You're upset. I-… I will tell you everything, I promise. But first, I love you, Y/n.” Wanda whispered, tears shining brightly in her eyes.

Your hand rose slowly to caress her cheek. “Wanda.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she easily leaned into the touch, her own hand rising to rest over yours. Desperate to disappear into the comfort you represented.

Wanda felt your fingers flex slightly on her cheek before the energy from your hand threw her into the street. You slowly walked over to her and her eyes widened in fear when she saw empty eyes staring back at her.

Something was obviously very, very wrong.

“Y/n. Y/n, it’s me.” Her words were shaky as you hovered over her. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t lose you. If she lost you, you there would be no point in fighting.

Amelia suddenly appeared at your side, a smirk on her face. “And I thought you were powerful.” She turned away from Wanda. “Y/n. Finish her off. I don’t think she’ll fight back.”

“What did you do to her?” Wanda demanded as she attempted to stand. Amelia nudged you and you waved your hand, the earth moving to manipulate itself around Wanda’s legs, effectively pining her down.

Amelia tutted. “I’m just helping her back on the right track, Wanda. With me she’d be so powerful. We would be unstoppable.”

Wanda’s eyes never strayed from you, nervously observing the way you stood without emotion. A stark contrast to the woman who had always been so expressive. “You mean with you she’d be a puppet.” She gritted out through clenched teeth.

Ellie laughed. “Oh, please. You mean like she isn’t already one now? Like you didn’t make her your perfect little house wife? She shouldn’t even be anything other than a shell if it weren’t for your manipulation.”

“That’s not true.”

As Ellie opened her mouth to respond, a voice suddenly appeared in the distance. “Y/N! WANDA!” Wanda turned her head, surprised to see Steve and Natasha running over.

Ellie groaned in annoyance. “Y/n, deal with them. I’ll deal with her.” Wordlessly you walked off, your hands rising at your sides as pieces of the street began floating in the air before you flicked your wrist and threw the objects at the two running Avengers.

Wanda closed her eyes and allowed the energy to destroy the strong earth that was wrapped around her as she leaped to her feet to chase after you.

“Leaving so soon, Little Red?” Agatha called out as she reappeared. Wanda stopped in her tracks and turned to see Agatha smirking back at her. “Everything is going according to plan.”

Wanda nervously watched Steve and Natasha get closer to you out of the corner of her eye. “What plan?” She demanded.

“That’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. I think Amelia here will take care of you.” The woman replied cryptically. In the blink of an eye Agatha disappeared into a purple haze once more.

“I think you should be more worried about the fact that I’m taking your wife.” Amelia taunted before her fist connected to Wanda’s jaw, sending her sprawling out on the lawn.

The pain in her jaw went unnoticed. Wanda’s eyes began to glow angrily as she got to her feet at the mention of you. “You won’t touch her.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that.” Amelia winked suggestively, and Wanda’s hands clenched at the implication.

If looks could kill, Amelia would be six feet under. “Tell me what you did to her.”

Amelia didn’t even flinch. “You see, working with a powerful witch and a vengeful director of S.W.O.R.D has its perks. Agatha gave me a little magic to distract Y/n while I used some new technology to make her ours.”

“Why are you doing this?”

There was a tense moment of silence. “Because you don’t deserve her. If it weren’t for you she would still be with me.”

Wanda shook her head. “We weren’t even together when she left you.”

“She left me because she could only love you.” Amelia’s eyes flashed with anger. “Now that I have her under my control all I have to do is get rid of you and we can finally be together like we always should have. Hayward will take care of the rest.”

The red wisps floating around Wanda’s hands sparked. “She will never love you. Whether she’s with me or not. And I will not let you hurt her or control her.”

Amelia began running at Wanda but before she could get close Wanda flicked her hand and Amelia rose in the air, flailing about angrily as she became encased in the red energy. “It’s too late, Wanda! You can’t stop us.”

Wanda’s eyes flashed. “Nothing you say will ever stop me from protecting her. And I’ll start with you.” Her hand flicked to the side slightly and Amelia went into the house down the street. Wanda flicked her wrist again and the house glowed brightly before returning to its original color. “Let’s see what damage you can do when you’re locked in this house.”

Down the street Steve and Natasha were avoiding the various objects you were firing at them. “What the hell is going on?” Natasha shouted as she narrowly avoided being hit by a piece of concrete.

“I have no idea.” Steve called back as he ducked under a lamp post that was thrown directly at him. “There’s something wrong here. Where’s Wanda?”

As Natasha was distracted by looking for the red-headed witch she was hit with a piece of concrete. A groan fell from her lips as she rolled away. Steve took the opportunity of distraction to close the distance between you both. “Y/n! Enough!” He shouted.

A chill ran down his spine when he met your blank stare. “No.” You replied simply before sweeping his legs out from under him. He quickly sprung to his feet when he felt the earth quickly begin to crawl up his body. Steve was familiar with this fighting tactic of yours.

Your hands clenched slightly in anger as he avoided your trap and you began swinging your fists at him calculatingly, just like he spent years teaching you. All Steve could do was avoid every hit you directed at him. He wouldn’t fight you. He couldn’t.

All he could see when he looked at you was the scared girl he found in the ruble all those years ago. The girl he swore to protect until his dying breath. He couldn’t hurt you even if he wanted to.

As you caught one of his legs in the earth, Steve shut his eyes to prepare for what was to come. Except nothing happened. His eyes opened again to see you on the floor with Natasha standing over you with her stun gun. “What did you do?” He asked worriedly as he scrambled over to you.

“It’s not her Steve. I had to.” Natasha said cautiously. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes.”

“Y/n!” They heard from down the street as Wanda used her powers to propel herself forward, immediately falling to her knees at your side. “Is she okay?”

Natasha nodded solemnly. “She’s fine. I just stunned her. What the hell is going on, Wanda?”

“I-I don’t know entirely. I didn’t mean to-… I just-…” Wanda’s breath became ragged as her hand instinctively found yours, the comfort of the warmth against her skin easing her mind. “I just wanted to protect her. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Steve placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We know, Wanda. We’re on your side. I should have told you that the last time I saw you... There’s something you should know though.”

Wanda tensed slightly. “What is it?”

Everyone watched with bated breath as you stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. “It’s about Hayward. He’s gone rogue.”

“You mean you’re not here because of Hayward?” Wanda questioned in surprise, her grip against your hand tightening slightly.

“We’re here to stop Hayward from using Y/n as a weapon. He messed with her mind when she was in S.W.O.R.D. He’s the reason she wasn’t going to wake up.” Natasha explained.

The information made an anger Wanda had never felt flare within herself. She quickly controlled it though. She knew it wasn’t the time. “He won’t touch her. Ever again.” She gritted out.

Steve’s jaw set. “I agree.”

“That’s something we can all agree with.” Natasha added.

“I thought you were here to fight me.” Wanda admitted, her head falling slightly.

Both Steve and Natasha exchanged looks. It was clear how much pain Wanda was in. Pain that they didn’t even realize. “Of course not, Wanda. We’re a family. We are going to fight with you. With Y/nn.” Natasha said softly.

Tears began glistening in Wanda’s eyes. “You’ll help me protect her then?”

“Of course. I made her a promise. I made you a promise.” Steve replied without hesitation, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder lightly.

Natasha placed her own hand on Wanda’s other shoulder. “We’ve been outside the law before. For Y/n, I’d gladly do it a hundred times more.” Wanda gave a watery smile. “What do you need from us?”

A heavy sigh heaved from her lips as her eyes fell on you. “I don’t know. Everything is falling apart.”

“Wanda.” Steve said suddenly. She looked up at him cautiously, the worry shining brightly in her eyes. “This is your home?”

For a moment she hesitated. “It was supposed to be. Before Y/n-… Before she-”

“Stop.” Steve interrupted, his eyes flashing with determination. “This is the home you built with Y/n. Who you love. So, I ask again, this is your home... Right?”

Wanda nodded, the determination contagious. “This is my home.” She repeated.

Steve smiled slightly. “Then protect it. Nat and I will get Y/n back. You take care of the rest.”

The relief Wanda felt at the words was the final push she needed. She worriedly took another glance at you. “I will. Keep her safe.”

Steve nodded. “That’s a promise. Now go.” Wanda placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before she propelled herself forward in search of the other witch who was an ever-present danger to the town and her own happiness.

Not a moment after Wanda had left, you spring to your feet. Steve tried not to be proud of how you automatically fell into a defensive stance.

Natasha slightly nudged Steve out of his thoughts. “Look at her neck.”

Almost immediately his eyes fell to the small, almost undetectable piece of metal flashing under the light of the sun. “That son of a bitch.” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Language.” Natasha quickly chided on reflex.

Steve pressed his lips in a line. “Really? Now?”

You tilted your head slightly as you watched them speak, seemingly debating the need to attack or not. Natasha fell into her own defensive stance. “Sorry, force of habit.” She smirked. “New plan?”

“You distract, I’ll pin her, and you get whatever the hell they put on her off.” Steve explained.

Natasha nodded. “Sounds simple enough. Let’s see if she learned any new tricks.” Before Steve could say anything else, she sprinted over to you, catching you off guard and sweeping your legs out from under you. A small huff fell from your lips as you looked up at her in disbelief. “Who do you think taught you that move, kid?” Natasha teased lightly.

You leapt to your feet, your hands clenched angrily as you kicked Natasha in the side. She groaned at the impact.

The satisfied smirk that appeared on your face nearly caused Steve to forget the mission. You were typically calm in fights, but you never got satisfaction from causing others pain. The sight of it made his blood boil. To see the aftermath of what Hayward wanted to make you.

“Steve-… a little… help.” Natasha grunted breathlessly as she strained to keep up with you.

Springing into action, Steve took advantage of your focus on Natasha to grab you from behind pinning your arms to your sides. He winced slightly as he felt the earth crawl up his legs under your manipulation. “Natasha, get it now!”

“This isn’t going to feel good.” Natasha muttered before forming her hand into a fist and punching the side of your neck. The sound of the metal that had attached itself to you falling to the floor was deafening.

Steve winced at the sound of the force of her hit, but you stopped struggling in his arms when the object was gone. “What-Where’s Wanda?” You shouted beginning to struggle in Steve’s arms again. He just tightened his hold.

“Y/n! Y/n stop!” He roared, and you froze.

“STOP!” The shout reverberated through the training room. “That is enough!”

You grimaced as you looked around at the destroyed room. “I-… I’m sorry. I just started thinking of everything and then… And then this happened.”

Your eyes fell to the floor and you could feel a comforting arm wrap around you. “Hey, I'm sorry for yelling... It’s okay. Just how about next time you talk to me instead of destroying the training room?” You nodded, leaning into the man’s side. “I’m here for you, Y/n. Always.”

Tears burned your eyes as you allowed yourself to accept the comforting presence. “Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

You stopped thrashing in Steve’s arms. “Steve?” You whispered. “Steve, I’m sorry.”

Natasha eyes softened slightly. “I think you can let her go now.”

A moment later the arms around you loosened as you looked between the two people in front of you. There were several questions racing through your mind, but only one mattered to you. “Where’s Wanda?”

“She went to go deal with the witch.” Steve explained, and your eyes widened.

Your breathing became heavy. “I have to go help her. Will you two be-”

Natasha quickly interrupted you. “We’ll be okay. Go protect your girl.”

You looked over at Steve who gave you an affirming nod. “We’ll catch up.”

With their assurance you quickly took to the air in search of the woman you loved.

After a few minutes of flying over Westview, a beam of red energy shot into the sky, splitting open the invisible walls that surrounded the town. That could only mean one thing. Wanda.

As you began flying closer, you felt gaps make their presence known in your mind as familiar pain began coursing through your veins.

The sudden appearance of the pain made your vision go spotty as you crash landed in the town square a few feet away from Wanda. Her eyes found you immediately as the red energy continued to burst from her chest.

“N-no.” Wanda stuttered out brokenly as she watched you weakly crawl towards her, your eyes threatening to shut.

“Wanda.” You mumbled out through pained gasps as your vision became even more precarious.

As Wanda was watching you Billy and Charlie crash landed by your side, pieces of them chipping away into the red energy. “Billy! Charlie!” You desperately shouted, feebly crawling over to the twins.

“Momma! Help, Mom!” The twins cried out.

Tears rushed down Wanda’s cheeks as she watched her world slip away before her very eyes. “Now do you see, Wanda? You tied the ones you love most to this twisted reality and now one can’t exist without the other.” Agatha called out, a dark edge to her words. The twins continued to cry out as you strained to get to them. “Save Westview or save your family.”

As the pain was intensifying in your veins you heard a pained scream burst past Wanda’s lips. Your heart broke at the despairing sound.

As quickly as it came, the pain disappeared from your veins as you jumped up and rushed over to Wanda who was crumpled on the floor. You gently helped her up and immediately took her into your arms, pressing your lips into the side of her head as the twins rushed over.

“Mom! Are you okay?” Billy asked anxiously.

The four of you stood in a large embrace for a second before you saw a burst of purple light fly directly towards you all. “No!” Wanda cried as she jumped in front of you and the twins, a forcefield forming around her.

You gathered the twins in your arms as you braced for impact only to open your eyes again to see Wanda straining against a force you didn’t understand.

The life seemingly draining from her hands.

You heart thudded against your chest as you worriedly watched her. “Wanda. Are you okay?”

The twin’s eyes were wide with fear as Wanda nodded faintly. Agatha interrupting before she could properly answer. “How sweet. Good thing my reinforcements have arrived.”

The sound of tires screeching pulled into the town hall just as Amelia flew in. The four of you took matching defensive stances. “Billy, Charlie, your mother and I never prepared you for this but-”

“But you were born for it.” Wanda finished your thought. You both shared a brief smile.

The moment ended when Amelia lunged at Wanda. Before she could touch her, you flew at the other woman, tackling her into the building down the street. You rolled out of the crash landing and raised your fists. “Why are you doing this?” You shouted as you both stared at one another.

“Because you belong to me! It was supposed to be us and then she ruined it!”

You shook your head. “Amelia, this isn’t you. We were friends.”

“We were never friends.” She countered coldly.

You cautiously took a step forward, dropping your arms. “We were. I’ve seen it in my mind. Even after we dated.” There was no response in her eyes which made a thought form in your mind. “We were friends.” You repeated.

Her lips pursed. “No. We weren’t.” Her hand fiddled with a thin scrap of leather that hung around her neck. The action caught your attention and further confirmed your suspicions.

“Amelia. You used to trust me. You can still trust me now.” You said cautiously, your hands raised in the air slightly.

Her eyes narrowed. “There’s only one way you can gain my trust again.”

“And what’s that?”

She smirked. “Leave Wanda.”

“Okay.” You replied.

Amelia faltered slightly at your words, obviously expecting more resistance. “What?”

“Okay. I’ll leave her.” You offered your hand. “Let’s go tell her.”

The skepticism never faded from her expression, but she slowly approached you and took your hand. You tugged her closer so that you were face-to-face.

Before she could react, you quickly ripped the necklace off her neck. “Amelia?” You asked wearily when you noticed her expression shift.

“Y/n?” She mumbled. You nodded in relief. “What happened? Did I-… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her watering eyes made you feel for the other woman. She wasn’t in control. “It’s okay. It wasn’t you.”

“Agatha. She took me when I was vulnerable. It’s like I was here, but I wasn’t me.” She mumbled brokenly and rubbed the place on her neck where the necklace used lay. “I would never try to come between you and Wanda. I know how much you loved her.”

You nodded slightly. “I know. It’s okay, Amelia.”

She shook her head, the conflict clear in her eyes. “I should go. I’m sorry.” Before you could react, she ran out of the room. You frowned slightly, wishing there was a way you could have helped her more. There was no time to allow yourself to dwell though because your family needed you.

Without hesitation you flew back to the center of the town square, noticing Billy and Charlie now with Monica and Natasha.

You landed by their side and Billy and Charlie rushed into your arms. You soothingly stroked their hair. “Are you two okay?” You felt them nod into your side. “Where’s Steve?”

Natasha tilted her head slightly. “Making sure Hayward doesn’t go anywhere.”

You followed her eyes to see Steve standing menacingly over Hayward, his fists clenched angrily. Almost as if he was daring him to make one wrong move. To give him a reason.

Just as you were about to ask about Wanda, bright flashes of red and purple collided in the sky as Wanda continued her fight with Agatha. You rushed to fly up to help Wanda in whatever way you could. You couldn’t let her fight alone.

When you got closer one of Wanda’s hands shifted as she created a barrier of red energy. The strength of it forcing you back down to the ground rapidly. “Wanda! Wanda, what are you doing?” You called, meeting her eyes briefly before she turned her attention back to Agatha.

Back on the ground you rushed back over to the twins again, wrapping a protective arm around each of them as you all worriedly watched bursts of red energy hit the no longer invisible walls that surrounded Westview. The clouds that hung over the city made the situation feel even more grim.

The worry expanding in your chest the longer Wanda continued fighting alone.

Suddenly, the flashes stopped and all you saw was Wanda limply floating in the sky, the fight seemingly gone from her system. Your stomach dropped as the twins cried out for her. You quickly tucked their heads into your side to shield them from the terrifying sight. It took every ounce of strength in your being to force back the onslaught of tears that filled your eyes. You had to be strong. For the twins. For Wanda.

Your heart leapt into your throat when a bright burst of red energy suddenly appeared from your wife. Almost as soon as the energy appeared, the storms clouds disappeared and were replaced by a beautiful day in Westview. You smiled at the sight of your wife slowly floating back down to earth. Back to you.

When your gaze finally fell on Wanda up close, your mouth ran dry. She was glowing. The sight of her alone was enough to take your breath away daily, but seeing her now… You were certain you’d never remember how to breath properly again. Your brain had short-circuited and the only cognitive thoughts that remained were of how unbelievably beautiful Wanda was.

You were vaguely aware of her having a conversation with Agatha, but you couldn’t process anything that was said. It was like the world around Wanda faded. Like you were seeing her again for the first time. Before you knew it, she was walking back over to you, her every move appearing in slow motion in your mind. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her if you wanted to. And you certainly didn’t want to.

The twins rushed out of your arms and into her waiting ones.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked as she looked up at Wanda anxiously. You slowly made your way over as well.

“I’m okay.” Wanda assured them, pressing a kiss to each of their heads.

Her eyes met yours and you were sure your heart could burst out of your chest at any moment. Everything was so clear now. Wanda was so clear now. As she always should have been. “It looks like the city might need a few renovations.” You said cheekily, your smile faltering when you met Wanda’s sad stare. “I know you’ll make everything right though... Just not for us.” You added quietly as to not worry the twins.

Wanda smiled sadly back at you and the pain in her eyes made your heart lurch into your throat. “No, not for us.”

You nodded solemnly, quirking your lips up slightly so that the twins wouldn’t see your pain. So that Wanda wouldn’t see your pain. “Then it’s time. Let’s go home.” You looked over Wanda’s shoulder to meet Steve’s eyes, his expression fell when he met your stare. A silent look of understanding past between you as he nodded.

He mouthed what looked like “I’m proud of you.” and you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes before you looked away to prevent the tears from building up in your own.

You wrapped your arm lovingly around Wanda’s shoulder as you began the trek back to the house with your family. Both you and Wanda nodded at Monica and Natasha before you continued onward. There were no words spoken on the way back, it wasn't a time for words. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her though.

Memorizing every freckle, every shade of green in her eyes. Staring at her as if it would be the last time you ever saw her. Because it just might have been.

The smile that formed on her face each time she caught you made it all more than worth it. When you walked through the doors of the home you felt the comforting energy wash over you once more.

You settled on Charlie’s bed, tucking the blanket around her as Wanda did the same for Billy. “Today was certainly a big day and your mother and I…” You trailed off as you looked over at Wanda who was watching you with a small smile. “We are proud of you both.”

Her smile grew as she nodded in agreement. “Very proud.” You melted at the sight. “You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried. You know, that right?” Both Billy and Charlie nodded with small smiles.

You lightly brushed Charlie’s hair back and pressed a loving kiss to her forehead as Wanda did the same for Billy before you both switched. “Goodnight, my loves.” You said quietly as you walked to the door of the room.

“Goodnight, Momma.” They said in unison. “Goodnight, Mom.”

Wanda stopped by your side at the doorway and you could see the pain in her eyes as she turned to take one last look at the twins. You wished that you could take the pain and bear the burden for her, but you couldn’t. You were in the same pain as you watched your children for a final time. The red energy closing in on the home faster than you could have anticipated. Closing in on the world the love of your life had created with you.

“Billy, Charlie…” Wanda’s voice wavered slightly. You placed a comforting hand on the small of her back and she pushed through. “Thank you for choosing us to be your moms.”

The way that they both smiled back at you and Wanda made your heart break even more as she shut off the light and closed the door behind herself. Wanda walked down the stairs as you were collecting your emotions.

When you finally gathered your emotions and met Wanda downstairs you were confused to find her shutting off all the lights around the house. You turned a lamp back on.

Wanda turned to face you in surprise. “My love, don’t you know it’s bad luck to say goodbye in the dark?” You said in a playful manner, hoping that the words came out lighter than how you actually felt.

For a moment Wanda just stared at you until a small smile overtook her features. It was clear she saw through your attempts. “No, it’s not.”

You smiled slightly as you spun the ring on your finger anxiously. “You're right. It’s not. I just-… I just wanted to be able to see you.”

Her breath hitched slightly. “And?”

Your heart faltered in your chest when she looked at you like that. “And you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

The smile she gave you was small and short lived because the sight of the red energy pressing even closer drew the focus. Wanda took your hand and you hoped she didn’t notice the way it shook.

Unsteadily you turned to face her. “Before I go, I feel I would like to know… Am I still me? What am I now?”

Wanda caressed your cheek and you leaned into her touch. “You, Y/n… are the love of my life. The one person that has kept me above water when I felt like I would drown… Your mind may fragmented and broken and running on pieces of memories that I could never let go. Running on dreams of the future I always envisioned for us... But you're still you.” A tear fell slowly down her cheek and your chest tightened at the sight. “You are my sadness and my hope. But mostly... You are my love.”

Feeling that words would not suffice, you leaned in and connected your lips in loving embrace. Pouring out all the love you had ever felt for the woman before you. Desperately trying to convey the inner workings of your heart. When you pulled away you felt Wanda’s thumb brush lightly over your cheek bone as your tears became impossible to choke down any longer.

“We have found a love when we thought it was all gone from the world. We have found love when we thought we weren’t meant to be. We found love in the future we should have had. Who knows what you’ll find next?” You whispered with a small smile, knowing that even if it wasn’t with you, you wanted Wanda to find love and happiness.

The light from the red energy filled the room and Wanda gently cupped your cheeks as desperation grew in her eyes. The tears now streaming steadily from her eyes. “We’ve said goodbye before, so it only makes sense-” She began.

“That we will say hello again.” You finished the thought quietly as you rested your forehead against hers, bracing yourself for the impact. “Until we meet again, my love.”

As the energy washed over the home, you never let your eyes falter from Wanda’s as the fire-like pain raced into your veins again. You were able to fight it for a moment until the agony forced you to your knees, and your vision became spotty.

“And in a few days, I would be there, love. Ever here that's lived in me is yours just as it was”

You squeezed Wanda’s hand lightly and she hummed so you knew you had her attention. “I like that lyric.”

She shifted her head slightly to look at you, her eyes glimmering curiously. “Why?”

You lifted yourself onto your elbows so you could hover over her, a loving smile on your face. You lightly brushed away a strand of her hair. “Because everything that’s lived in me is yours and that’s as it was. From now until my heart stops beating.”

For a moment she just stared at you, her eyes shining brightly up at you. Your heart soared.

When she yanked you down by the collar to meet her lips, the memory fragmented and suddenly everything was black. All you felt was a searing pain coursing through your veins.

“With this we can keep her vitals low enough to where that freak will think she’s gone. Then we can extract the DNA.” You wanted to scream but no sound came out, the burning just became more intense until-

Your eyes burst open as you struggled to take in small gasps of air. When your breathing evened out, you took in the empty plot of land you were in the middle of. Arms were quickly wrapped around you, pulling you as close as humanly possible and you looked up to meet emerald eyes. “Y/n? Is this really happening right now?”

You nodded slightly. “That pain. That pain that made me black out... It was a memory. It wasn’t because I couldn’t exist outside of your energy. It was the memory of what they did to me and how much it hurt. Your powers are helping me piece everything together in my mind after they scrambled it, Wanda.”

Wanda quickly buried her head into the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe your awake.” She whispered. “Don’t worry. I will make him pay for what he did to you.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “All that matters is that we’re together. He’s not worth it.”

“Do you-… Can you remember everything?” Her words were hesitant, almost as if she was scared to know the answer.

You tilted your head slightly. “I don’t know. Ask me something.”

“What happened when you tried to cook at the compound?”

You shut your eyes for a moment before you recalled the memory. “I almost burned it down. You admitted that you wanted to live with me that day.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes. When did we first admit we love each other?”

Again, you closed your eyes as you attempted to recall the memory only to come up blank. “I don’t… I don’t remember.” You admitted dejectedly.

Wanda’s gently tilted your head up. “It’s okay. All that matters is you’re here. And in my arms.” She smiled as tears fell down her cheeks. “We can always work on getting back the rest of your memories.”

“And we can finally have that happy ending I promised you... I told you we were a happy ending.”

A watery laugh fell from her lips as she nodded and pressed her lips to yours once again. “I missed you so much.” She mumbled against your mouth, the smiles on both of your faces making it almost impossible to continue but you didn’t let it stop you.

With the help of Natasha and Steve, (who cried tears of happiness when he saw you alive and well), both you and Wanda were able to escape the prying eyes of the public. The seclusion working to strengthen your bond, work on your memory, and help Wanda understand her new power. Each day showed process and neither of you could have been happier.

There was a lot to work on, but as far as you were concerned, everything was perfect. As it was.

And there we have it folks! The conclusion of "As It Was" the spin off of my baby "Love Goes". For some reason, it took me so long to be able to write this conclusion even though I knew everything I wanted to happen. And you will all be pleased to know I had always intended a (Semi) happy ending for Wanda here!

It was been a journey and I truly thank you all for sticking around. I sincerely hope you all enjoyed. As always thoughts and comments are always welcome. :)

Tag list:

@theofficialzivadavid // @tquick99 // @marrymemcgrath // @afuckingshituniverse // @pxterstrk // @aimezvousbrahms // @ensorcellme // @sapphicshots // @daisybri7

[hinerdsitscat]

“Two Can Play At That Game”/”Strength In Numbers” Guide to Timelines

It has come to my attention that I may have gone massively overboard on the Complication Factor of Strength In Numbers, given that I’ve thrown not two but THREE different timelines into the mix, each with their own version of the Doctor and the Master (or their Chameleon Arch-ed counterparts). 

So, in case it’s helpful to anyone, here is a Guide to Timelines in the Two Can Play At That Game series and its final fic, Strength In Numbers:

Who and Where and Huh?

We’ll start with the easy one: 

“Canon” Timeline (aka: These Idiots)

The “Canon” Timeline starts at the very beginning of the episode “The Timeless Children” when the Master shows up at the Boundary (aka, roughly ten minutes before the events of Two Can Play At That Game begin). They have absolutely NO IDEA what nonsense is about to ensue.

Timeline B (aka: the Arched Timeline)

This is the timeline where the Doctor and the Master went back to being Jenny Smith and Harry Jones. 

(amazing fanart by @the-patrex aaaaaaaaaaa)

About eleven years have passed for these Disaster Nerds since the end of Two Can Play At That Game. By this point, Suzi and Ian a) exist and b) are ten and eight years old, respectively.

The Timeline B story (in chronological order rather than publishing order):

Two Can Play At That Game

Last Resort (one year after TCP@TG, in 2018)

Fugitive of the Division (two years after TCP@TG, in early 2020)

Suzi and the Night Man (seven years after TCP@TG, in 2024)

Strength In Numbers (eleven years after TCP@TG, in 2028)

and finally...

Timeline A (aka: the not-Arched Timeline)

This is the timeline where the Doctor and the Master don’t go back to being humans and stay Time Lords (but have about a billion identity crises every damn week, it seems).

Ages ago, @iamdeltas​ provided me with an incredibly cursed train of thought in the comments of Gaudy Night:

Slightly cursed train of thought, but the description of Jenny and Harry as acting as sort of boundaries between the Doctor and the Master gave me the visual image of the Doctor and the Master standing arms-distance apart while wearing hand puppets of Jenny and Harry, who they make kiss passionately.

And that mental image WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE so I finally drew it tonight so that I had a (cursed) visual representation of some kind for the Timeline A protagonists:

The Timeline A story:

Two Can Play At That Game

Sick Day (takes place a few months later)

Asynchronous Contact (takes place a month or so after Sick Day)

Gaudy Night (takes place about a year-ish after TCP@TG)

Strength In Numbers (takes place about two-ish years after TCP@TG)

Okay, So NOW What Happened??? (Spoilers for Chapter 4 Onward)

At the end of Chapter 3 of Strength In Numbers, everyone gets booted around into a different timeline. Here’s where everyone ended up, sorted by destination:

Timeline A (Cruise Ship, Year 8788): Jenny (Timeline B) and the Master (Canon)

Timeline B (Leeds, 2028): The Doctor (Canon) and the Master (Timeline A)

“Canon” Timeline (The Boundary, Series 12 Finale): The Doctor (Timeline A) and Harry (Timeline B)

Phew, I hope this cleared up a few things? 

[guqin-and-flute]

Are You Here to Stop Me?--Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [First post in Peony to Lotus Verse]

[Ao3 Series]

[I had the hardest time shaking this man and making plot fall out, he was wholly uncooperative.]

This was all such fucking disaster.

A-jie was sick, the Jiang were once again yanked into a political fiasco that they had to pay for with their own reputation, there was a fierce corpse puppet in his home--a home that, apparently, had already been invaded by the Jin Clan demanding answers to said political fiasco while its master wasn’t even there. In a few days time, it would be invaded again by strange Wens he didn’t know or want.

If his mother were alive, she would kill him. He would probably deserve it. He didn’t know what his father would think. He would probably be disappointed--either that he didn’t think of it in the first place or for his resentment.

He stood frozen by the door, anxiously watching Wen Qing treat a barely conscious A-jie. It wasn't like he had never seen his sister feverish and weak before, but it scared him the same every single time. To know that she was in pain and he couldn’t do anything about it. To know that this could be the illness that would take her from him. That this could be the last time that….He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and folded his arms tight across his chest to keep them from fidgeting at his sides.

Jin Guangyao seemed to think everything was under control--at least, that’s what he had said. It would have been far more comforting if it hadn’t been in such a distant voice while being unable to look away from A-jie. Clutching her hand in a white knuckled grip. Expression all strained and pale with badly concealed terror.

This is your plan! Jiang Cheng wanted to scream as he clenched his aching fists. I did this because you said it would work! You’re the one that’s supposed to know what you’re doing!

What he wouldn’t give to actually know what the hell he was doing. Being an adult couldn’t just be this, right? Just guessing and grasping around in the dark, tripping like you’re wearing your father’s too big robes? Every other person he met seemed to be controlled and mature, while he was barely treading water--hell, even Wei Wuxian did the things he did with confidence. It had to get better at some point, because, right now, this mess was embarrassing--enraging. But most of all, it was terrifying.

What the hell should he do? What was right?

A-jie kept breathlessly trying to tell them all that she was alright, that they should rest and continue preparing. But she could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lolled around like a floppy doll. Every once in a while, she was wracked with violent, hacking coughs that shook her and left her gasping.

When she whispered Jiang Cheng’s name and raised a trembling hand as Wen Qing stepped away to prepare something, he practically dove to her side, his knees slamming painfully into the floor in his haste. Clasping her hand in both of his, he found it freezing, so he chafed it gently between his palms. “A-jie?”

“You...must be...so tired.” She smiled weakly, eyes slurring to the Wen child who had fallen asleep on the other pillow, leaving grubby little smudges all over the bedding. “All of you. I’m fine. Go. Sleep.” Even this short speech left her breathless, then coughing, wet and harsh. She trembled as Jin Guangyao helped her sit up and held her close, stroking her back.

Jiang Cheng hated everything about this. He was going to kill Wei Wuxian.

She wasn’t wrong, though. His limbs felt like practice weights, his overworked core throbbed like a pulled muscle within him. (His core? Wei Wuxian’s core? The core? This reminder burrowed in him like a barbed arrow every time he remembered again, further and further since the night he had learned it. Regret and anger and nausea, swimming and hot, every day, every fucking day. A stranger inside himself, but not. Another thing he was helpless to.)

When A-Jie finally dropped into unconsciousness not long after, Wen Qing announced that under no circumstances should she be allowed to exert herself for the next few days, until she could sit up on her own and breathe without wheezing. “The fluid in her lungs has worsened,” she told the two of them, voice still hoarse. “But since I have access to the supplies here, her fever should hopefully break sometime tonight. She shouldn’t be in any immediate danger but she will have to take her medicine on a strict schedule.”

“She will,” Jin Guangyao agreed immediately, thumb smoothing repeatedly over the back of A-jie’s limp hand. “Just tell me when and I’ll do it.”

When Jiang Cheng finally stood to leave, just about every muscle from the base of his skull to the tendons at his heels screamed and gods, he wanted a bath and sleep and for this to not be happening. Wen Qing collected the still sleeping boy, and Jin Guangyao rose, seeing them all out into the hall before bowing, sharp and deep. “Thank you, Wen-guniang.”

Damn. Jiang Cheng hastily followed suit and bowed. You tactless asshole. She watched them both with weary eyes, expression as closed as it had been for days, but she inclined her head to accept. “Come get me immediately if anything changes.”

Straightening, Jin Guangyao nodded, his habitual smile nowhere to be seen, drained and serious. “I will. I’m going to stay up to watch her.”

Her eyes narrowed warily. But she only nodded.

The entire trip leading her through Lotus Pier to her prepared room was silent.

Jiang Cheng knew he should say something. He wanted to say something--to thank her more personally for A-jie’s care or tell her that she would be safe here, that when he made a promise, he kept it (unlike some people.) Maybe reassure her that this wasn’t a ploy by him to corner her, that this was honestly a waking nightmare he kept wishing he would wake up from.

That this wasn’t how he had imagined marrying her. As a last resort. As a trap.

Instead, he was silent. Nothing he had to say would come out right and he would either sound like an ass or an idiot. Or both.

She was just as quiet, anyway, drifting behind him like some sort of mourning wraith, carrying the limp child. The only sounds were their footsteps, distant murmurs, and the frogs droning from their intermittent little ponds and from the lake beyond. Chill from the young evening settled into their still damp, days old clothes. The clean, living scent of the water was comforting, so at least there was that.

He wondered if it just smelled like mud to her.

When they came to the room, he saw that the lanterns and the incense burner were already lit, and a while ago, judging by how thickly the scent of jasmine and musk lay over everything. It was one of the nicest guest suites, with a wide bed, wispy purple wall hangings, and intricate lotus blossoms crawling up in carvings on the screens. It occurred to him suddenly that it might seem horribly insensitive to remind her exactly where she was and why. Tacky. He ground his teeth.

Wen Qing staggered right by him into the room without a glance, practically collapsing across the bed to lay the boy down. Angry? Disgusted? Done with him, whichever it was. But Jiang Cheng stayed by the door, fingers worrying at the thick fabric of his robe, running the edge of his nail along the weave as she tucked the blanket up to the boy’s chin. The need to say something--anything--was becoming too much to bear. “I’m sorry it isn’t very big.”

Her voice was dull and she didn’t even turn around. “It’s fine, Jiang-zongzhu.”

Fuck.

“You don’t have to...you can call me Jiang Wanyin,” he said, because he was apparently very stupid. The slow, disbelieving look she gave him over her shoulder was well deserved. “You don’t have to,” he added, because he apparently was not done being stupid. I mean, you’ve literally cut me open before, so I figured….

“...Alright.”

Jiang Cheng wanted to melt into the floor. Or possibly die. His mouth worked around his grimace of self disgust and he managed, “I’ll have the servants send in a bath.”

She sagged back on her heels beside the bed, still looking over at him. “Where is A-Ning?”

Oh. Right. “Probably….” Actually, he had no idea where Wei Wuxian had taken him. His room? The idea of that puppet leaking black resentful energy and lying on his childhood bed seemed ridiculous. “With Wei Wuxian,” he finished, lamely. “I’ll find out.”

Her gaze transferred to the floor, eyes unseeing and darkened by smudges of dirt and exhaustion. She was still quite pretty, but it was a gaunt, unkempt sort of beauty. The silence stretched, uncomfortable. He should have let a servant show her to the room. She was waiting for him to leave, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly, just as he turned around to simply leave, saving them both the agony. “For doing this.”

His jaw tightened and he kept his eyes locked on the light wood of the column right outside her door. Instead of anything helpful or comforting, what came out was a low, unplanned, “Why didn’t you come to me.” She had the comb. She had to. It had been gone when he came back to check and he had thought...hoped….

Skin on fabric. She was probably looking at him, and so kept his shoulders rigid, back straight.

“I didn’t know if you would help.” Her voice was quiet, not angry or accusatory. But his fists clenched as heat flooded his face, his head throbbing. ‘You're untrustworthy and selfish and immature. Why the hell would I trust you?’

He was fucking this up. Again. Useless.

Jiang Cheng refused to dig himself a deeper hole. About 10 minutes too late. Without a word, he stopped darkening her door. Instead of going to his room and ordering a bath like he should have, he looked for Wei Wuxian, blood pulsing in his ears. Stalking through the halls, he scattered several anxious servants in his wake like ripples behind him.

When he found him, he actually was in his room, though the puppet was on an extra mattress on the floor instead of on the bed like Jiang Cheng had imagined. The room reeked of resentful energy--sour, burning, metallic. Old bile and blood and worse. Wei Wuxian himself was hunched over it with a brush and seemed to be adding to the fluttering layer of talismans that already festooned the prone form. It even took a minute for him to realize Jiang Cheng was in the doorway, but when he did, he leapt to his feet, haggard face anxious. “Shijie?”

“...Sleeping.”

“What did Wen Qing say? Will she be alright?”

“No thanks to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders sagged and he blew out a breath. Then, he perked up, coming over to gently shake Jiang Cheng by the shoulders with a reproachful smile. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, lead with that next time, will you? You appear at my door looking like you’re about to avenge someone, what am I supposed to think?”

Smacking Wei Wuxian’s hands off his shoulders didn’t do anything to change his attitude. He just grimaced playfully and said, “Ow, careful! Now be nice, we’ll all be in trouble if you damage these hands,” while wiggling his fingers. It made the sharp rage in Jiang Cheng’s chest flare. It made him want to punch his stupid face.

“This is your fault.”

At this point, it was like they pulled out a script book for some overdone play, a rulebook outlining the steps to their fight. The brush off. Wei Wuxian looked past him, craning his head to peer out the door. “Where’s Wen Qing and A-Yuan? I wanted to tell her how Wen Ning is doing.”

The jab. “Are you even listening to me?”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes at him, shrugging his shoulders as if letting the words just slide off of him with a stretch of his arms. The dismissal. “Ah, you’re always scolding me, so what’s the point in listening to you when you’re just saying the same things you have been for days? I’ll pay attention when you say something new. You’re so predictable.”

The snap; Jiang Cheng snarled, “How’s this, then? It’s your fault that A-jie is so sick.” He jabbed Wei Wuxian in the chest with his finger, knocking him back a step, pursuing. “It’s your fault if the Jin decide to wipe us all out again.” Another jab, another step. The insouciant air slid from Wei Wuxian’s face--instead, it was tight, the beginning of regret.

“Listen--”

“This is your fault and you’re not even sorry.”

A deep breath. “Jiang Cheng--”

He needed him mad. He needed him to stop moving away. “You weren’t thinking of anyone but yourself, like you always do. You’re making me take in and marry the people who killed my parents to protect you.” He could see Wei Wuxian bristle--because he knew it wasn’t quite true, it wasn’t really fair but Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

“What are you even saying? They’ve both saved us a hundred times over! These people are innocent, they were being brutalized, I had no choice--!”

“You always have a choice!” Jiang Cheng was shouting, now. “You just choose the one that causes the biggest scene! First you embarrass me in front of all the other Clan Leaders, then you kill Jin disciples and steal their prisoners--!”

“What right did they have to treat them that way? What crime did they commit?! I’m supposed to just leave them?!”

His outrage just fed the fury burning through Jiang Cheng, roaring in his ears, and he wanted to take his brother by the throat and shake him. He wanted him to be just as hurt and terrified as he was. He wanted him to stop acting so fucking noble, like it meant anything anymore after everything they had been through. His lungs burned from the resentful energy hanging in the air. Zidian sparked once, sizzling. “You always need to be the center of attention. Well congratulations, everyone’s looking at us, now! Aren’t you such a fucking hero? Isn’t it nice to have a shield that will rise up against every stupid thing you decide to do? When will it be enough?”

Wei Wuxian’s swallowed hard, jaw tight, eyes shining. “Do you think I wanted this?” He asked quietly, and Jiang Cheng had to bark a laugh that tasted bitter.

“No. I don’t think you thought at all. You just did whatever you wanted and expected the Jiang Clan to clean up after you.”

At this, Wei Wuxian looked away at the wall, shoulders bunched up, hands in fists at his side. “I wasn't...” he said tightly. “I was going to go. To take them--”

“Where?”

“I don’t know!” He snapped. “Somewhere I could keep them safe! I thought...maybe the Burial Mounds.”

A chill flooded through Jiang Cheng and he stared. “Are you insane? That hellhole?”

Wei Wuxian was still looking at the wall, though he swallowed again. “I could...control the resentful energy. Make it safe.” He clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

The thought alone had him reeling. Wei Wuxian really had been going to do it. He really would have left, after everything. After promising to rebuild Lotus Pier with him, to support him. After Jiang Cheng had fought so hard to find him the 3 months when he had been missing. After Jiang Cheng had stood by him when the war ended and everyone had started whispering about sinister ulterior motives--did Wei Wuxian have no concept of how this looked? “And do what? Establish your own Sect? Build your own empire? Should I call you Wei-zongzhu from now on?”

Wei Wuxian recoiled, face screwed up in disbelief as he finally faced him again. “No! What? No! Jiang Cheng, don’t be an idiot. I was going...I was going to take care of it myself. I wasn’t going to ask or involve you. I didn’t--I was going to handle it.”

That rage condensed and dropped sourly into his gut like sick. That was worse. That was so much worse. ‘I didn’t know if you would help.’ He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted that cleansing fury back. “Nice fucking job.”

Wei Wuxian vented a short, mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“You don’t get to tell me to shut up.”

“I just d--” Wei Wuxian stopped himself, jaw working. When he spoke again, it was with careful containment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“What a stupid thing to say, of course I did,” Jiang Cheng snapped back. “What other choice did I have?”

“You could have just let me go. I would have been fine. You didn’t need to…you don’t need to put yourself out on my account.”

He would have preferred he had just fucking stabbed him. Honestly. Then who the fuck was he? Some acquaintance? Some stranger? To not ‘put himself out’--

He was really that easy to leave behind? Just that unremarkable, unneeded, unwanted? That every option, even the Burial Mounds where he had been trapped was preferable to staying with him in the home he had rebuilt with blood and sweat, plank by plank for them--for them, the only family he had left in this world.

What was so broken about Jiang Cheng that no one could possibly just love him as he was? What did he have to do to stop people from leaving him?

He wanted to stab Sandu through the corpse that used to be Wen Ning’s chest, tear off the talismans and throw him in the lake for the fish to take out of sight. To seize Wei Wuxian and scream; Stop letting go of me!

“Well, aren’t you so brave. Aren’t you so noble,” gritted out, all dark and vile, and Wei Wuxian flinched and Jiang Cheng would have felt triumphant if he didn’t feel so fucking awful instead.

“I had to.”

“You had to.”

Wei Wuxian said nothing. But he didn’t look ashamed. He just looked tired.

“Right. Because you’re so strong and powerful and right, always, and I’m the asshole who doesn’t care enough.”

“You know I never said that.”

“But that’s what you think. You still think that I didn’t do enough. That I didn’t do the right thing.”

Instead of fighting back--instead of denying it--Wei Wuxian let out a loud breath, shook his head and turned away to drop himself heavily beside the mattress on the floor. This retreat left Jiang Cheng completely empty. His nails cut into his palm and he was shaking all over, staring down at Wei Wuxian as he picked up another talisman, not looking at him. They had had this conversation already, in fits and starts on the race back to Lotus Pier, but hadn’t been able to fully say any of this around A-jie or the Wen’s and so had just jabbed at each other for days. But here, it was all unraveling at once like too tight bandages coming off. He craved a conclusion--the give and take of a shouting match or the clarity of a split lip and Wei Wuxian wasn’t giving it to him.

Couldn't. If it came to blows, Jiang Cheng would just hurt him.

And why was that, again?

His brother's face was gaunt as he ignored him, eyes shadowed, fingers raw and red with blood and cinnabar. Still working. Giving. He was always giving of himself to everyone. His protection, his trust, his love, his time.

His core.

Just more proof that he was better; kinder, more generous, better in every way. Well. Not every way, now. The overworked core gave an untimely twinge. But that even bore his fingerprints, didn’t it? His sacrifice. (He had tried so hard, so fucking hard to give Wei Wuxian something that only he could give, the only protection, the only apology Jiang Cheng had left for what he had blamed him for. And he had shoved it right back like an unwanted gift.)

Jiang Cheng wasn't special, though. That knowledge bristled in his throat like knives, now. What he had done for Jiang Cheng wasn't because he loved him--apparently, it was because it was the right thing to do.

And Wei Wuxian always did the right thing. He would have done it for anyone.

Jiang Cheng's eyes went to the talismans fluttering in the dark breeze. It was the Cloud Recesses, the Yin Iron, the oh-so-perfect-and-peerless-and-interesting-Lan-Wangji all over again. Leaving Jiang Cheng behind to go be a hero because he just didn’t fucking matter enough to keep around. Because Wei Wuxian thought he was pathetic and selfish.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were burning, his voice shaking when he spat, “Great. Then just keep trying to make yourself a better shidi out of that thing. I’m sure it will never stop kissing your ass.”

On his way back to his room, he snapped at a young servant girl to order a bath for Wen Qing. She practically ran.

Nice fucking job, idiot.

Crashing face first onto his bed, he fell into unconsciousness immediately.

[rationalcashew]

A Poison Tree (1/4)

Post-En Ami. There do be smut here. Angry, angry smut. One chapter per stanza. If you’re under 18, go away; this is a grown up story.

I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

--William Blake, “A Poison Tree”

He couldn’t look at her. Mulder knew the moment he did, he would say or do something that he could never take back and he would lose her forever. This time, losing her wouldn’t be at the hand of the black-lunged bastard that had been controlling the strings of Mulder’s entire life like some sick puppet master. No, this time, it would be his own fault.

They’d gone to the offices after the Gunmen had awkwardly left his apartment. Scully was eager to prove herself, naively believing the setting would be the same as when she’d seen it. Mulder knew better. They were empty, as he expected, and it only served to confuse and further frustrate her. She’d insisted; he’d fought back. They’d yelled and screamed and stormed off in separate directions.

But it wasn’t Scully at whom he was truly angry. Not really. Where Scully was concerned, Mulder had been scared and the generalized anger was born of that fear. He had been worried sick when he couldn’t find nor reach her. Mulder was supposed to protect her, and she’d ditched him to go with the enemy. The ditch was the part that hurt the most.

The enemy was the real subject of ire. That cigarette-smoking son of a bitch had manipulated the woman Mulder loved, playing on her altruism to accomplish his sick goals. He had put Scully in danger and had almost gotten her killed. If that had happened…

Mulder downed another shot, forcing the thought out of his mind in the process. His cell phone rang again. He knew it was Scully. She’d been calling him for twenty minutes. Mulder couldn’t talk to her right now. If he did, there was no telling how the conversation would go and, much like the experience in his apartment, he couldn’t risk saying something that was going to push her away for good.

Although, that was probably what he should do. It would certainly keep her safe. They couldn’t use her to control him anymore if she walked away. Sure, it would kill him. In the long run, though, Scully would be better off without him.

Another shot downed.

His phone rang again.

Mulder motioned for another shot.

“Woman troubles?” the bartender asked.

Mulder scoffed. “You have no idea.”

His phone rang again.

“Let me guess,” the bartender said. “Her?”

“Yup,” Mulder replied, bringing the shot glass to his lips, and tossing back the beverage.

“Not gonna answer it?”

“Nope.”

The bartender nodded as though to say “fair enough” before he stepped away to help someone down the bar.

Mulder drifted back into the recesses of his mind. If Scully hadn’t gone off with the enemy, they would be together at home right now, probably wrapped in each other’s arms. That was how the night should’ve ended, he decided. The notion caused his anger to return anew.

Scully had done more than just go off with the enemy. She had gone off with him and lied to Mulder about it. A “family emergency.” That’s what she had said. She was going to be out of town for a family emergency. Scully probably hadn’t expected him to worry and call her mother, though.

If she’d just left it at going out of town for a couple of days, he would’ve believed that she just needed some space. It might have stung a little and he would’ve probably tried to call her a couple of times, but he wouldn’t have worried. Or, maybe, that was what she’d wanted; for him to figure it out?

It wasn’t like Mulder wanted to be angry with her. He didn’t like fighting. Not like this. But he was. He was absolutely pissed off with her.

Mulder didn’t think he was in the wrong, either. The point was that she lied to him and then tried to convince him that it was justified. There was no justification for her lying to him. If she had told him the truth, he would’ve understood.

Well, maybe…

He would’ve, at the very least, insisted on going with her. Then again, Mulder supposed, that would’ve defeated the purpose. Whatever her purpose was. He still wasn’t sure what to believe regarding that.

Mulder had no doubts that Scully was being altruistic. That was just who she was. But this was the Cigarette Man. C.G.B. Spender. Mulder’s archnemesis. And she knew that. She fucking knew it.

The more Mulder thought about it, the angrier he got. His blood felt like it was boiling in his veins, and he was pretty sure that it wasn’t from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. If anything, he felt like his anger was helping him to stay sober longer. Which defeated the purpose of his drinking in the first place.

He was drinking to forget. Mulder wanted to forget everything about the last few days. He wanted to go back in time to a few days ago, back when he woke up next to her, had breakfast with her, and kissed her goodbye before she went back to her apartment to get ready for work. He wanted to go back to the night before that when she’d come over with cheesecake and a sexy smile on her face.

But there he was, sitting at a bar, downing shot after shot, unable to forget.

Jesus fuck. If he could just be in the same room with her long enough to talk to her, make sure she didn’t interrupt as he explained exactly why he was so upset—make her actually hear him… Mulder groaned loudly. There was no way he would get a word in before she was screaming at him again.

Their argument at the smoking man’s offices played in his mind again. As angry as he’d been, she was possibly angrier. Why, he would never know. For once, he wasn’t the one who’d fucked up. It was a good thing she’d stormed past him when she did. Mulder had been ready to shake some sense into her.

God, he needed to see her. He shouldn’t see her, a voice in his head told him. If Mulder saw Scully tonight, chances were their romantic relationship would end. He didn’t want that. He needed to cool off first.

So did she

[whyjm]

Why I did not like the Spn finale

This is gonna be a long post..

I cannot get over my thoughts about how it ended and how bad I feel about it. I am so angry, sad and feel so utterly disappointed, I cannot wrap my mind around how this was supposed to be a satisfying tying up emotional archs ending??? Bc it was so far away from satisfying I would laugh if I was not presently crying over it..

There are several things that irked me a lot. Many people have voiced the problems of this show and its ending much more eloquently than I will ever be able to do.. But I gotta get these fucking thoughts and feelings out of my system.

I have been with Spn since the first episode aired. I am a straight woman, I don’t have to fight for representation, I don’t have to worry about coming out and being accepted for who I am, I don’t have the daily struggles of feeling anxious or depressed or suicidal or not being able to be who I am. I am lucky that way!

To me love is love and all love should be equal! And I stand with all who struggle and all who are not free to be who they are. I see you and I love you and I support you fully!!!

To see my friends having to fight, and then on top of that have a show that has meant so much to so many people be butchered and have a negative last message sent out, in its last 36 minutes of its life … It is a hard pill to swallow.

Cas and Dean  

In 15x18 we got to have a beautiful confession from Cas to Dean where Cas tells Dean he loves him and we know this is romantic love bc Cas begins by saying that the one thing I want I know I can’t have and then later I love you. Also Misha confirming it! This scene made me ugly cry so hard bc FINALLY.. (BUT what is missing from it.. the editing is strange.. bc Cas pushes Dean to the right but he falls to the left. Dean has no tears in his eyes while he looks straight at Cas when he talks, but he has tears in his eyes when he looks over his shoulder and see the empty. So what in this scene has been cut away and WHY?) Misha and Jensen did a great job with this and Cas got to find peace in just speaking his truth...  And it was beautiful to watch and after having seen Dean sitting sobbing on the floor the natural and logical continuation of this would have been to in the next episode address this, but in episode 19 no such thing happened. And I wondered where did Dean’s grief go where did his CARE for Cas go?? Dean who has been depressed and suicidal when Cas have died before is all of sudden cold and act like nothing have happened at least nothing that affected him very deeply.. It felt disconnected and strange. And it continued on like that and it felt very strange to NOT address such a HUGH plot point. It’s not enough to have Dean say to Chuck to bring Cas back or to see him wasted out of his mind, or hugging a dog like his emotional wellbeing depends on it.. This is not resolution or addressing it.

All of season 15 has felt like the relationship between Cas and Dean has been in focus and important to the overall arch of the season, and explored and then all of a sudden all traces of it are just ripped away, erased completely.. To have a confession like this go unacknowledged to me is poor writing bc you do not leave this big of a thing hanging in the air without resolution (fine you can argue Cas got resolution but I feel that no Cas did not get resolution either bc his feelings SHOULD have gotten a response no matter what that response was.. Dean did not, we never got to hear or see his version or his thoughts about it.)

I was thinking narratively they HAVE to address this, Deans thoughts and reactions to this gotta be shown. They HAVE to resolve this, acknowledge it. I have been sure a long time they would NEVER have Dean reciprocate Cas love  but keep it in subtext bc they are too fucking chickenshit to do that but at least have Dean talk about Cas….. that I expected him to do.. But it was not done in 19. I got the horrible feeling in my gut that they are not gonna resolve this they are gonna fuck this up, they are gonna go full brothers only and not give a fuck they are gonna push Cas out and show no care. Then we come to the final episode and boy howdy is there a lot to unpack with this episode.

(I had watched the long road home before the finale and when I watched that I KNEW that the end was going to be a letdown I felt it in all of me that I was gonna be disappointed. And I was proven right. And I have so many thoughts all jumbled up around each other that I don’t know in which end to start so sorry if what follows is incoherent and rambly.. )

15x20 - The end  

20 felt like a FILLER episode, right up until Dean’s death scene I was bored and was seriously considering turning my computer of and just not watch. (A finale should be as engaging and emotionally packed like episode 18 was. I refuse to acknowledge 20 as the end.. To me it ended on 19. That wrapped things up. Not completely satisfying but hell of a lot better than the disaster that 20 is.) But then Dean was impaled on that rusty spike thingy and I was watching with attention. I GET why they did Deans death the way they did, even if that is one shitty death for Dean and could have been fixed so he did not die.. I get what they wanted to get out of it: a brothers sad moment that they turned into a irksome thing. I actually cringed about the head thing and the hands and the farming of it all just urgh I got sick to my stomach watching that. What should have been a beautifully sad moment was put together in a romantic coded way and that to me ruined the heartfelt goodbye. Bc you do not touch and hold a dying family member like that. I KNOW I have said goodbye to my fair share of loved ones that I have loved soo deeply, but the thought of touching like that NO no way.. And also they have NEVER done that forehead touch in previous deaths, so to do this now just felt irksome.

They killed Dean a character that has struggled his whole life with being daddy’s blunt little instrument, who has self-worth issues and are suicidal, who has never lived for his own sake but have only ever lived to protect and raise another, he continues to put others before himself though (up until the last couple of seasons where we have seen them both break away from this toxic behavior). Finally he was allowed to LIVE and have a life that was not controlled, not running in a hamster wheel like a fucking puppet on a string. He was Free of all of that. He was free to go after what HE wanted for himself and what Dean wanted was LOVE, in my mind its perfectly clear that Dean loves Cas back bc that is what the story have been telling us.. its right there and the story do not make sense without it. Many others have done a great job at talking about this and describe this way better than me. So I leave further discussion about that topic to them.

Dean was looking for a job.  The angel Dean has loved since purgatory told him that he loved him and then died sacrificing himself to SAVE Dean yet again and then Dean dies a few days later.. How is this doing justice to Dean and what the hell kind of message does this send out to the ones watching?? They are saying it does not matter if you fight, your destiny is written for you and the only relief and comfort you will have will be death. They are saying Meh don’t fight it’s better to die bc it does not matter what you do. This is one of the fucked up messages this godawful ending sent to all those who have identified with Dean and Cas throughout the years.

They also say Cas who has been part of the story for 12 years is not important enough to have there, they IGNORED Cas, a mention in passing does not do justice to a character that has been crucial to the boys lives for 12 years. Dean Screamed in Sam’s face CAS IS FAMILY, Dean was destroyed when Cas died, he was hurt when Cas left bc everyone leaves Dean, Sam missed Cas etc… but still not important enough to show up in heaven in the last episode greeting first Dean and then Sam to heaven.. PFT…

To leave Cas and Misha out of the FINALE of a show that he has been part of for 12 years is so fucking disrespectful to Cas, to Misha and ALL the fans who love and adore both. It also makes no sense since  they all say how beloved Cas and Misha are. and don’t go fucking covid made it impossible bc the last scene with all those people without masks.. No that is just lying liars who lie…Covid my ass! This angers me a lot.

Family do end in ONLY blood apparently…..  

(And maybe lead to a lot of viewers for walker???  hence this very nice shirltess Sam scene............. ) shirtless Sam is always good though so no complaining here.

We see Sam and the dog give Dean a hunters funeral.. NO OTHERS are there?  How is it possible that none of the found family wouldn’t want to be there and show up?? Jack has restored everyone but still only Sam and the dog are there, no Eileen, no Jody and the girls, Donna, Garth, and the list goes on and on. Bc they wanna hammer in harder that supernatural has ever only ever been about two brothers and no one else matters ever.. It does not matter that this has not been true since the earlier seasons. The show of course is about Sam and Dean’s lives and journey through life, and I have loved to follow along on their journey.  BUT it was a long time ago this was the ONLY thing that mattered (bc if it had only been about the brothers the show would NOT have gone on for this long). Along the way they have picked up FOUND Family, and the message of the show has been Family don’t end in blood, Always Keep Fighting. But this last episode reverted back to season 1 and disregarded ALL character growth and storytelling of the past 12 years and went with fuck it ONLY Sam and Dean are important. So the next fucked up message they sent where: There is no Family don’t end in blood.. The only family that matters is blood. And then they have the balls to say Always Keep Fighting.. Are they fucking kidding????

Character development…….. who????  

Sam lives on after Dean dies and we get a montage of his life where he look miserable and is shown to not being able to get over that Dean died. We get a blurry wife and a kid named Dean. In his house there are photos of ONLY himself, Dean and their parents and maybe one of his son? Don’t remember all the details and refuse to watch that episode ever again. But no friends, no family, no happy moments are shown, it looked like a very lonely life. He dies with only his son there.. WHERE are Sam’s friends??? This montage of Sam’s supposed happy life is NOT happy bc he is not able to get over that Dean is dead, he can’t live a  happy life bc Dean is not there - again something that irked me and felt disrespectful to all the growth Sam and Dean have gone through. It was toxic codependency all the way through and that is not satisfying to watch. Especially since the brothers had actually broken that dependency. Sam had broken free, Sam have through the years wanted to get away from Dean and live his life as he wants and then he was happy…We have a moment way back in season 5 maybe? Where Sam runs away and this is shown as one of his happy moments in dark side of the moon.. No Dean in his happy places, Sam having thanksgiving with his girlfriend and her family, Sam alone with a dog. We have Sam and Amelia when Dean was in purgatory. So Sam IN text have been shown being able to be happy without Dean so why could he not do it this time?? Makes no sense! You can grieve but still have a good life.. But they CHOSE to show it like Sam was miserable bc Dean was dead and life was not worth living happily without Dean there..

The brothers have lately interacted like two individual adults, separated from each other, making their own decisions and trusting each other in making them, they wanted different things in life. And seriously WHERE DID EILEEN GO?? Why was Sam not reunited with Eileen that he some eps previous was shown to love, no instead they had blurry wife which feels like such a cop out. Sam did not get to live a happy fulfilling life and why did Sam not deserve to live a happy life with Eileen??? I know they are blaming corona for a lot of things missing in the finale that they intended.. BUT and this is a BIG BUT remember Jensen did not like the ending it did not sit well with him, he had a hard time digesting it, he objected to the ending! He spoke about that dying in battle would not be a satisfying ending - see the video of him talking about this at SDCC 2019. There is so much more to say about this but other people have voiced it so much better than I ever could so I move on to the next issue.

Dean in heaven  

Dean when he first arrives there happens upon Bobby who tells him John and Mary lives down the road and that Rufus and Arheta lives around there too. I hope Bobby’s wife was indoors, and that Jack with the help of Cas fixed heaven.  To this Dean only smirk/smiles.. and then Dean sees baby and goes for a drive ALONE with the words he will be here soon from Bobby again Sam is the only one that ever matter PFT. Dean who found a home in the bunker alongside Sam, Cas and Jack who told John: I have a family and that he was happy with himself and his life…. Spends his time endlessly driving around alone just waiting for Sam to appear.. ALL of Deans growth is thrown out the window.. he is reduced to salad dressing. Deans only purpose is to live for his brother and cannot possibly have what he WANTS for himself not even in death. He drives around for who knows how many years until Sam dies. HOW is this justice to DEAN? How is this a good and satisfying ending for Dean. Dean who wanted to LIVE, Dean who wanted to experience people in new ways, who had let go of Sam and saw Sam as his own person, now in heaven only drives around waiting for Sam to get there having no life or meaning of his own. It pisses me off to no end that they reverted back to toxic codependent Sam is all that is important to Dean shit.. They have broken away from this shit years ago and this is how they choose to end it right back at the beginning..

Now what is the point of telling  a story of growth and love and life if all that that journey amounts to is ending up at the exact point it started on?? You can watch season 1 and 2 and then this finale and it makes sense.. But having watched season 1-15 this ending does great injustice to the characters and the story. Again many others have written way better posts about this that expresses the great disappointment and hurt that is being screamed everywhere right now.

The Actors

I want to add the performance of all actors through the years, the love and care they have poured into their characters are amazing I have loved every bit of that journey. I love Jared, Jensen and Misha, and all the others for their amazing work and that is maybe why it hurts so much it ended in this way!

[the-possum-writes]

Story Previews

Just cause I haven't updated anything in a while doesn't mean I stopped writing. Here are some drafts for upcoming stories and chapter updates.

NEW WORKS

Shingeki no Kyojin [Reiner Braun/Reader]

She walked into the dining hall alongside Krista and Ymir, she doesn't look too interested in the conversation judging by the mild expression on her face which didn't take long to change once her bored eyes fell onto Reiner. Causing him to tense up all. "It's her-" the blonde whispers, slowly leaning towards his friend. "What?" Bert abruptly turned his head in her direction but Reiner lowered his head to keep him from being too obvious. "That girl, the one I told you about earlier-!" Reiner whispered. It's now that Bertholdt understood his friend's reaction, shrugging it off since he thought he was exaggerating. Bert took advantage that she were distracted to catch a glimpse at her from afar.

You could feel their eyes on you, however you kept a stoic expression as you grabbed your tray and sat a table away from them between the two close girls and the noisy trio, continuing your meal like the rest.

Reiner thought that was the end of the staring contest and went back to his meal like usual, but it was far from over. The girl kept sneaking side glances at him from time to time, unconciously urging Reiner to do the same, looking away awkwardly whenever the two of them made eye contact. This went on a few more times before Reiner started growing agitated, with his food growing cold the longer he stared blankly at his bowl. Knowing full well she's still gonna be staring at him if he raises his view

Dr. Stone [Tsukasa/Reader]

You slide the door of your patient's room, unprepared to still find him there. "Sorry for interrupting-" was your first reaction. "But I need to check her vitals and such."

Tsukasa didn't pull his eyes from his beloved sister, a real life sleeping beauty. "It's fine." was the only thing you got from him. He didn't iniciate small talk, and neither did you. But he would constantly sneak a few glances at you, or more precisely, the clipboard you wrote down. "How is Mirai? Has there been any sign of improvement?"

You keep a straight face, flipping the previous pages from last week's checkup and comparing eachother. "Nothing out of the usual, she's stable so that's a relief in itself." Tsukasa maintains his emotionless face, but there's still hope

"Either way, thank you doctor." Your view went from the clipboard to Tsukasa, giving him a sheepish smile. "Oh, I'm not a doctor. I'm an intern."

CHAPTER UPDATES:

Planters in Crime ch. 4 [Fern/Reader]

"I didn't know they kept organizing wizard battles."

"Neither did I, rumors say they brought it back about a year ago."

A few more steps and another minute of silence pass before Fern spoke again. "Don't we need a password or something like that?"

You wave a knowing finger at him. "Already got that covered, I know just the person who'll kindly tell us." Fern walked alongside you as you push through bushes and tree branches, the trek though this part of the forest felt isolated and remote. Where are you taking him?

"I doubt any wizard is gonna spill the goods-" he scoffs, but you don't reply immediately, instead giving him a somewhat mischievous smile.

"Oh, we don't need a wizard."

The claustrophobic plant life around the forest  eventually parted away into a small clearing, revealing a little makeshift wooden cabin in the center. The thing looked like it would tumble at any second, and yet you approached it with a sense of familiarity. Fern followed along behind you down the barely visible dirt trail, climbing the few steps before knocking briefly. No response. You knock a bit louder this time, impatiently tapping your foot against the ground when you didn't receive a single response.

"Looks like they aren't home." Fern crosses his arms over his chest.

"Or at least that's what they want us to think." you tap a finger to your temple knowingly.

Pocket Thief ch. 31 [Katakuri/Reader]

It's already late. The sound of ravenous drinking and partying soon replaced by the serenity of singing crickets and the cloudy night sky. It only took a few jumps to arrive at Katakuri's territory in Wheat Island but that didn't mean the trip was pleasant and calm. "This is the last time you use your devil fruit under the influence of alcohol." Katakuri muttered under his breath, still feeling dizziness and motion sickness in his stomach.

"What are you talking about, I'm perfectly fine jellybean-" you grin, leaning against him with a bottle in hand. 'Besides, If i didn't drink anything I wouldn't be able to stand your mom's big ass whining.' you mentally mused to yourself, or at least that's what you thought.

"I heard that." You jump in suprise. "Since when can you read minds!?" you almost trip backwards if it wasn't because Katakuri reached out to the bottle in your hand. "I can't read minds, you're just thinking out loud again." Katakuri grunts with the shake of his head, forcefully taking the sake bottle away from you.

You waltz inside his mansion as if you owned the place... Which considering your current status, it's not too far from the truth. Katakuri's mansion is massive, so many doors that lead to so many rooms, elaborate columns leading to high ceilings, if it wasn't because of the candy themed decorations you could've confused this place for the home of a noble. Despite how grand it may seem, it feels void of life of sorts, like no one actually lives here. During your admiration of the home and your own drunken stupor, you failed to notice the lone maid standing next to Katakuri. "Take her to her bedroom and prepare her for bed, she's too drunk to even think straight." Katakuri ordered.

"What? Separate bedroom?" Although your senses are a bit fuzzy you were still able to catch a few words from the conversation between Kata and the maid. "Who the hell are you calling drunk? I'm perfectly fine, watch me do a backflip-" but the maid rushed over to you before you could pull a cool trick or hurt yourself. "Miss, please don't." the maid begged, ushering you to follow her.

"Wait, we're not gonna share a room together? Katakuri? Katakuri!" you shout while the man walks away from you.

Coding Error ch. 20 [Batter, Zacharie, Sugar/ Reader]

You should've seen it coming when you first stepped out of that elevator. The high roof with a glass ceiling, the office themed room where the secretary kindly but effortlessly told you to leave, the pedalo rides on display and even the amount of guards your team had to face before reaching the end of the hall. All the signs were there but you didn't expect your assumptions to come true. Batter kicked the door open to reveal a man hunched over a work table, minding his own business until the abrupt sound pulled him from his work.

"What's all this ruckus?" the man exclaims.

You gawk at the man, unlike Batter who's already holding onto to his baseball while Zach keeps a hand on his sword and Sugar pulls out her hand puppets. You unconciously take a step back. "...Dedan." There he is in all his glory. Sunken eyes, enormous teeth and striking height.

[heckpup]

Hmmmmmm Time for the Part 2 of the Immortal Tommy AU I cooked up with my raw materials in the middle of the night

:DDDDDDDDD What fun. I have also now decided that Tommy's new wings are now phoenix style (cause he's immortal now, innit?), in flames, but only at the tips (so far, this will change the older he gets) and only if he wants them to be. Had he still been mortal, they probably would've been just a regular red, and so that is what they look like when they're not on fire.

Also, I'd like to imagine that the old worlds from when we were kids (with borders and that didn't go on forever and just stopped and dropped off into the void, right? I know me and my friends loved to find the corners and try to go through. Good times.) are what the god's personal realms are like. Not enough room for rebellion, since there's not enough room to run from an angry god/goddess. If you go to the edge, you can look at/travel to other worlds as well. Most gods don't bring other people into their worlds anyway, but *shrugs*

Edit: (I can't believe I forgot this I'm so sorry ;-;) TW:Mentions of bl00d, Mention of de@th, mentions of m@n!pulat!0n and g@sl!ght!ng, mentions of t0rture.

Just thought I should mention + explain.

~

"Hey Clara?" Tommy asks from a small tree, letting his feathers move gently in the wind.

"Yes, Tommy?" Clara calls from below, looking up at the young immortal. Tommy glides down to meet her on the ground, and he looks up at her a little sheepishly.

"Do you think that since, well, you know, I'm recovered and shit, I could visit those bitches from the SMP? I kinda just want to, uh, blow up at them, sorta. I just- its a lot of untapped rage and I really just wanna scream at 'em, you know? It's totally ok if you think I shouldn't I mean, you are the biggest man- er, woman- here, just wanted to ask, but uh-"

"Tommy." Clara cuts him off with a small smile, and a bit of mischief and malice (And anger, as well) twinkling in her dark eyes. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Besides," She begins to walk over to the edge of their small world, "they need to understand what they did, and its never good for us immortals to hold grudges over mortals. Could cause some unplanned problems in the far future."

Tommy beams, and Clara begins mentally preparing for the showdown with glee. "Tommy, how do you want to do it?" She asks, inner drama queen squealing.

"Well-" Tommy tells her- "-I really want it to be big and dramtic, you know? Like lightning and thunder, and like things bursting into flame and shit. I could probably do the flames myself, but do you think-" He looks up at her expectantly.

"Of course!" She says, patting his shoulder. "A storm fit for a god. It would be only fitting, of course. I am going to come along, of course. Just in case there are any unexpected developments, like more dramatic effect."

Tommy nods. "Yeah! Those bitches aren't gonna know what hit them! But, do you think you could stay invisible 'n shit for it? I still wanna do this by myself. I don't-" He cuts himself off, feathers ruffling. "I wanna yell and bitch about it, and I want to do this on my own. Like an important milestone on my recovery." Clara nods in agreement.

"Right, right. For the lightning though, is there any houses you want to keep out of harms way? I plan on hitting a lot of houses, just to get people up and moving."

Tommy thinks for a minute. "Uh, maybe hit close to Ranboo's house- he's the black and white hybrid, he's always been pretty nice to me- and Sam and Puffy and BadBoyHalo. Sam put Dream in prison a while ago, and Puffy and BBH gave me some gifts the night before you picked me up. So, they're clear from property damage, but I still want to see them. Defintely break Dream out, I want to yell at him though. Wait, maybe I can break him out, like teleport him away from the prison and show off my new powers and shit- anyway, maybe save Niki as well, she was always nice."

Clara nods and begins to locate the small world that she pulled Tommy from so many years ago. "Goodness!" She laughs. "It's been a while since you looked down at this one, isn't it?"

"Yeah, haven't had much time to think shit about those old bitches." Tommy begins to search with her, quickly locating the small SMP, being recently cleared of the red bloodvines that had plagued it for a while.

While they plan, they laugh, and Clara is reminded of how far the young godling had been when she whisked him away. His old SMP hadn't deserved him, not even for a second.

~

Tommy and Clara were watching from the clouds as the little people in the SMP ran around panicked about the storm that was destroying a lot of their houses. Tommy watched with glee and satisfaction as the majority of the SMP (save for Dream, of course) gathered in the newly rebuilt community house to discuss the looming problem.

"Dream has to be behind this, Sam!" Fundy growled out. "He's the only one that has this kind of power!"

"You ready?" Clara asked Tommy, after waiting for him to be perfectly positioned under one of the next lightning bolts, aimed at one of the doorways to the community house. Tommy nodded and lit the tips of his wings, prepared for the force of the bolt to push him back down to the earth.

The lightning hit, and Tommy found himself being thrown down and pushed to the ground.

The first thing he noticed was that the bolt left little sparks over his body and his wings were a little more lit up than usual.

The second thing he noticed was that everyone in the community house was looking at him.

He stood up and, with a great amount of false confidence, strode into the room. Tubbo was staring slack-jawed, as were most people in the building. Phil's face was incredibly pale, to the point that Tommy actually began to worry about the man's health. Ranboo looked at him wide-eyed, but then Tommy saw recognition flash and a smile began to creep onto his face.

But the person that Tommy had his eyes on the most was the no-longer transparent form of his elder brother, well and alive again.

"What's up, bitches?" Tommy grinned, and suddenly the room was alive with shouts and yelling and holy Prime, Tommy probably should have prepared more for this reaction but he hadn't even known Wilbur was alive but oh, Phil's yelling about how Tommy left him and-

"Tommy, how could you? You've been off to who knows where? Where the fuck have you been? How could you leave us?" Phil's void-black wings ruffled, and Tommy didn't even think before responding,

"I've been off healing, bitch! You know, from all the trauma you adults forced on me? And the gaslighting from Dream? The manipulation? It took me years to get over that shit, and the god's world-time runs slow! I spent a whole fucking year trying to understand that what you bitches put me through was fucking wrong, and I was not alright! I left you all here because you left me when I was at my fucking WORST! YOU LET A SIXTEEN YEAR-OLD FIGHT IN FUCKING WARS AND GET EXILED! YOU EXPECTED ME TO TAKE THAT SHIT LIKE A FUCKING ADULT? FUCK NO!" Tommy's wings flared out and he could feel the heat radiating off of it, his flames responding to his anger.

"Thomas Minecraft-Innit, I am your father, how dare you-"

"Oh, you're my father now? Now, after you abandoned me, neglected me, left me in the dust? You cared more about your fucking war buddy than your own two sons! Wilbur was more of a father than you were, and then you fucking killed him!"

"Tommy-" Tubbo tried to interject.

"AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON YOU TUBBO! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID? YOU LEFT ME AS WELL, YOU LEFT ME WITH FUCKING DREAM! YOU EXILED ME, AND FOR FUCKING WHAT? A SAD POSITION IN A COUNTRY THAT YOU LET DREAM PUPPETEER ANYWAY! WE FOUGHT THAT WAR TO GET AWAY FROM DREAM, AND THEN YOU FUCKING LET HIM RIGHT BACK IN!" Tommy raged, turing on his ex-best friend. "Oh, speaking of-" He snapped his fingers and then Dream was in the room with them, wearing an orange jumpsuit and looking around wildly.

The room let out a great outburst, which, to be fair, was expected.

But then Dream took one look at Tommy and decided that it was a-fucking-okay to try and re-manipulate Tommy again. As if he didn't notice that Tommy was much older, much more healed and much more powerful than before. (Or that could just be him. Clara did tell him that gods- and even godlings- could change their age and appearance, and sometimes it was involuntary and depended on emotions and metal stability. Tommy did actually feel much younger. Maybe it was from being in this place, this world, and being in front of the person that hurt him most. That would make sense.)

"Tommy!" Dream cried with unusual glee. "You're here to help me, aren't you? You finally came to your senses about your best friend, right?" Tommy only raised an eyebrow in response, not giving him an answer. "What, not going to give an answer to your only friend? Tommy, I stayed with you, I kept you company when no one else did, remember?" Prime, how long did Dream think he had been in that prison for?

Tommy only shrugged and then pulled out a sword and dashed up to Dream, keeping the blade on Dream's throat. "You mother fucker. You are the biggest bitch boy I've ever, and I mean ever, had the pleasure of knowing, bitch boy. You are the absolute worst thing to ever happen to me, you know that? You killed me twice, and for what? Gratification of knowing you killed a teenager? And then you tried to gaslight me, manipulate me into doing your sick shit for you? That's the most fucked up thing I've ever known, Dream. I'm going to enjoy taking this life from you." And then he swung, embedding the blade into the wall behind where Dream's body had once been.

TommyInnit killed Dream with [A Final Blow]

Dream made the achievement [Banned?]

"Tommy what-" Tommy turned to look at Technoblade, who was looking blankly at his chatlog.

"Oh, don't worry too much about him. He'll just be stuck for a few days in the ban-void, and then he'll come back on his own." A great number of people paled, knowing the ban void, when you were still on a world, meant that you were subjected to great amounts of agony as your body tore itself apart and tried to pull its code back together. And Tommy had just taken one of Dream's lives, too!

"Tommy, what happened to you?" Phil asked, horrified.

"I grew up," Tommy said with a smile. "And now I have the rest of time to spend continuing to grow and live. Becuase now, Tommy Innit never dies."

Techno rushed at him suddenly, axe swinging. It caught the edge of Tomm'y neck, and Tommy took the chance to grab Techno by the scruff on his, and lift him up, also while feeling his body grow older. Several gasps were heard around the room at the sudden change. "What were you trying to do there, Technoblade? You can't kill a god." And then he let Techno drop to the ground, before touching the part of his neck Techno had sliced.

His hand drew away with golden ichor.

[brahkest-fr]

CW: trauma, maggot/worm imagery, blood, general violence | Titan n Chimera have a moment

Titan rushed down the hall, long tail flailing mercilessly behind him, tripping cursing guards as he sprinted through ancient corridors that reeked with the stench of dust and mold. Another tundra stood at the end of the dungeon, old eyes cold and weary, not at all surprised at the other’s sudden appearance. He crossed his arms as Titan approached apprehensively. He didn’t meet his gaze but the elder bore through him with a fire that could raise the dead.

“Let me see her,” Titan demanded, rare harshness in his voice.

The other tundra squinted. “Be my guest. She will be dealt with by the morning,” he spat and pushed past him, frail old shoulder barely nudging Titan’s massive frame but the sentiment was there. “I told you something like this would happen.”

He waited until the other left before gingerly opening the wooden cell door, its creaking overwhelming the deep, pained breaths from within. His jaw slacked as he gazed over the hunched form of Chimera, kneeling on bare stone, arms folded behind her and chained to the wall. She peered upwards, head heavy and swaying. Her vision was blurry but made out Titan’s broad shoulders, haloed in the dusty light of the door frame. Angelic. She thought she was dying.

Titan conversely became aware of the dull, raspy sound of Chimera’s wheezing and the utter nothing coming from his own throat. Knees buckling, Titan faltered to the floor, hand grasping at the stone as he crawled towards her in a silent frenzy, hesitantly cupping his dear friend’s face with soft paws, head pressed to hers. Her breath quivered, recognizing the gentle touch and glimmering fur that encased her trembling form in a warmth that seemed foreign and unbelievable. He smelled like spices and sun, strong on her dull senses that have been subjected to the stale, putrid jail cell. She mouthed something weakly, spittle dribbling down her chin. He wiped it away, running his hands gently down her shoulders.

She shuddered, gray and melting in the dark of his shadow.

Chimera always saw beauty in bruises. Never was anyone more moved by the blossom of welts and the flush of cut flesh. He briefly wondered if she would have thought the way she appeared now, broken and stiff, was pretty.

She would. Even this dark place - she would.

“I’m so sorry Chimera...I should have stopped you sooner. I should have been with you before-” he gasped as he nuzzled her forehead, ignoring the blood oozing from her cuts.

Should. Should. Should. He always should have something.

“Titan,” she hissed, “It’s not your fault.”

He felt her cool blood seep into his fur, a jarring sick wetness.

He lowered himself, peering into her sickly yellow eyes that struggled to flutter open. They were pussy, glassy - tired. He ran the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away thin tears she didn’t realize had fallen. He kissed the wedge of her snout, nauseated by the coldness of her skin, the stillness of her body other than minute flinches. He wrapped his plush tail around her, fur coated in the filth of her blood and sweat. She collapsed into his body, for what little slack the chains gave her. Pressing gentle fingers to the base of her spines, he massaged her neck, earning an exasperated choke from her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked in the smallest voice he could muster.

Chimera’s eyes widened, manic and fearful though her body remained defeated and limp. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “The same. Always the same...” she sobbed.

He constricted her body, desperate to hold her pieces in place. “Where are you?”

Chimera grit her teeth, “It’s all red. All red and flesh and fog. She’s watching me again. But her hands are around me... I can feel her nails-” she heaved into a wailing bob back and forth, Titan pressing her to his chest.

It was routine for him, holding her, talking her through her delusions. It was the same story each time but progressively getting worse, an assault he couldn’t stop. A nightmare he couldn’t end. At first he thought Chimera simply had many peculiar fears here and there, bad dreams and the like as everyone does. But when her tough facade melted away into pure terror, screaming into the morning because she thought the hand reaching from her throat was real, Titan couldn’t pretend it was nothing. He wished it was nothing.

He loathed to be helpless when he shook her awake, failing to convince her she was safe. How the paralysis of sleep and fear would take her - how his very touch would send shock waves up her spine and out her maw as whines for help. How he was a sailor lost in the midst of her storms, throwing him wave after wave into her darkness. Drowning always inevitable. But the sun would rise and she would be there, resting on the railing of their sinking ship. She’d be pale in his nightmares. Dead. But he would hold her, tell her she was really alive and really there with him. The dark would come and swallow them whole. A story he knew the end to. He’d wake up and in a mad scramble would find Chimera sleeping restlessly in the guest room, tangled in ripped sheets. He’d breathe and slide down the door frame. Content. A moment of relief betrayed by continued suffering.

Titan was her rock though crumbling.

In all their years together, she could only cope with his hands stroking the whole of her back as the terrors would keep her up at night and plague her throughout the day with visions she couldn’t understand nor ones he could ease away. Chimera was always her strongest out in the city where she put on a brave face that day after day cracked slowly, along fault lines that he knew too well - the pinches to her forehead, the distant look in her eyes, the smile that was painfully fake. She tried her best to avoid being a burden though Titan would never consider her as such. It was hard to convince her that this nightmare was his own as well, something he chose to participate in, something he wanted to help heal. She’d look at him like a bug to flick away but like a tick he stuck to her side, sharing in the cursed blood. The gods awful nights and tortured days. The unholy body in alien skin.

Often Titan’s thoughts looped back to Sorrow, the vile witch they visited years ago for some semblance of an answer. It was said she knew everything. Foolish of them to think they would get a straight answer from a creature who delighted in the plights of dragons. The snowy, angelic imperial whose divine body was draped in silk and stars smugly sneered, a soft hand trailing down her own neck to chest, indulging in the deliciousness of their desperation.

“The gods certainly like to choose their favorites, don’t they? How cruel of them,” she laughed sweetly, predatory evil behind cold alabaster eyes.

It was hardly an answer but answer enough. Chimera was a victim of divinity, an ant under a magnifying glass. But what solution they could muster would elude them.

It would break them.

And now sits Chimera, kneeling under a shadow of death, oblivious to the world around her except the all consuming thoughts worming holes in her mind since childhood. Squirming like maggots in a wound, hungry to burrow and fester, their chafing claws scratched at her ears, throbbing rustling heartbeats haunted her sleep and peeled away her resolve. She’d pick at them like dead skin, indulging in habits that would only give her seconds of relief. A fight here. A fight there. Hours of physical training. Her mood was always electric and frenzied, focused on the next thing that would distract her. The worms hollowed the space just under her skin, slithering like plump veins in sickening patterns only she could see. Scratching. Wriggling. Squirming.

Titan often had his aristocratic duties and she knew that’d she’d have to cope alone, avoided by neighboring dragons too fearful or annoyed at the ridgeback who stalked the streets with a fervor that danced on the edge of violence. She suffered in silence, other than her wails that verbalized at the cusp of dawn in the arms of her friend who forced her to share his home, worried what such terrors would make her do. What they did make her do.

-

The grand library was dead silent. Dark. Titan's feet froze on the cold marble floor that could not be a more obvious sign to leave. She’s gone, he thought briefly - unwillingly - and shook his head. No. No. He can help her. She’s here and he’ll help her.

He found her deep in the basement of the library, surrounded by books meant to be locked up now lay open faced, ghostly runes visibly tearing themselves from the pages. Screaming wails from nowhere bounced off the walls as Chimera sat in the middle of a magic circle, muttering a language not even the Shade knew, lost in thought. Possessed. He yelled to her, held back by an invisible force of her own creation and she turned, face wet and screaming, desperate to end her torment. While an ancient tongue left her lips, she mouthed, help me.

Please.

Titan, filled with a fury and desperation that puppeteered his movements, tore through the magic barrier with a feral violence masked by the ghostly paleness of his face: a visible trace of doubt should he fail.

Why couldn’t he be here sooner.

He pulled her away from the cursed tomes but not without a fight as she flailed, child-like and dangerous, claws narrowly digging into the scruff of his throat. In this effort he forgot how strong she truly was, tangling themselves in a heap of limbs. In a last attempt to summon some gods’ forsaken horror, Chimera flew to a book, screeching its words like a siren until Titan grabbed her by face, tearing her away along with a vibrant strip of flesh from chin to eyebrow. Reeling back in pain and blinded by blood, she collapsed, pooled in sweat and sobs as she held her cheek, crying for it all to end, for the maggots in her brain to cease their chatter. Her back arched and she tore at her scales as if covered in ants, rolling along the cool floor to disperse the heat in her muscles. Titan loomed over her, hands unsure what to hold, how to touch. It was a piercing self awareness of his vulnerability in that moment. He heard yelling from above, likely guards posted outside. Chimera kept screaming, scratching, panting, crying. He shakily stared at his paws, fur now sticky with sweat and blood and grime. He wiped his hands in frantic motions, desperate to clean himself of the viscera he drew but it only smeared and matted his fur in pungent red. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong. He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know what to do.

-

He was beside her again now, no more confident than before but he could hide that, for now. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as she wailed, biting into his flesh, drawing crimson over his sunset fur. The pain was dull and fleeting while his thoughts were scattered and distant in the love he wished was enough. Her ribs cracked as she heaved in coughing fits, delicate and ready to burst. He wanted the floor to fall away, enveloping them in a comforting darkness - a place of attractive nothingness. He wished for a lot of things in that moment.

His tailed tightened, python-tight and unwillingly to let go. The torn flesh cutting across her eye festered, swollen and red. He forced himself to keep from turning away. You did that. Her sobs slowed and she was coming back to the present, away from the pit of worms who for now would slumber, buried deep under her skin, ghosts pricking their nails in anticipation against her bones. He stared at the chains bolted to the wall. Brittle.

“Chimera?”

She hung her head. Resigned.

“I want you to run.”

[shadowofthelamp]

Wrong

Zib's plan goes off without a hitch. There's no meddling alternates to stop it. Everything is perfect.

Or at least, it should be.

Sort of a sequel to both Best-Laid Plans and Oh Perfect Dib. It could follow either, just assume comic!Zim and Dib never stumbled into the Zimvoid. Likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated both here and on ao3!

Warnings: Some violence, Zib kills Zims carelessly but without any graphic detail.

Wordcount: 2069

Ao3 link

He snapped his fingers. “Drone.”

“Yes, Number One?” Five’s wings fluttered as he stared at Dib with wide eyes.

“Report.”

“Two universal cleansings completed. Zims two and twelve have completed their missions. Seven and nine are waiting for your orders, sir.”

“Good, good.” Dib nodded at Five, who gave a single nod back before stepping back against the wall and looking down to the floor. He was a good little minion. About an inch taller than the average Zim. A good foot shorter than Two had been.

Why was he thinking of that? Two was gone. He’d fulfilled his purpose. There was no need for him anymore. There were literally thousands of other Zims that could take his place.

“Drone.”

“Yes, Number One?”

“Do you…” He trailed off. “Nevermind.”

____

He circled Five, boots squeaking on the shiny floor. Five stayed still as he could with only a mere involuntary twitch of his gossamer wings. Other than those, his antennae bent forward. Dib didn’t like that. They made it look like he wasn’t listening.

“Five, put yourself in line next, and find me a replacement second in command.”

Five’s eye twitched before he nodded.

____

Fourteen was good. Dib liked Fourteen. He was a bit on the taller end but knelt down on one knee when addressing Dib, and was from some kind of medieval dimension. Very loyal so the virus had plenty to work with, meaning there was no delay in his responses.

He kept calling Dib ‘liege’ though, and while ‘Lord Dib’ was kind of nice, it also just struck him as a bit much. Plus the clanking of the armor got annoying and he made a whining noise when it came off when Dib wanted to do tests on him. (He did tests on his second in command a lot. It was more a matter of them being the one that was physically in the room than anything. Two had jumped at the chance even before the virus, and Dib had never dropped the habit.)

____

Twenty-One wore a maid’s outfit. Dib wanted to keep that one just for laughs, but his chest felt funny when he bent over so he had him thrown out with the rest of the Elite.

____

Nineteen, the skater Zim, had an obnoxious accent. Dib didn’t know where he’d picked it up from. He sent him out within the day.

____

Three was literally an animal. Dib has no idea how it had gotten that high in the rankings other than the fact that Zims were morons, although the fact that it foamed at the mouth sometimes told him that it was probably just really violent. He had it incinerated instead of working for the cleansing plan, since it would probably muck things up anyway.

____

Thirty-Two was…

Dib liked him. He wore a tutu, but other than sort of fluttering around as he walked, there wasn’t really anything that bothered Dib about him other than the fact that he was a Zim, and he thought that he was, unfortunately, getting pretty used to Zims by now, especially ones that obeyed his every whim.

“Your drink.” Thirty-Two was down on one knee, head down, and Dib scooped the soda up before setting a hand on Thirty-Two’s head. A rumble echoed around him and he looked up.

“Huh?”

Thirty-Two didn’t say anything, and Dib looked down, realizing that the head under his palm was vibrating slightly. He was purring. Dib blinked down at him, hand drifting to the side to stroke up at his antenna, and Thirty-Two leaned into the touch, purring louder. It sounded like a dying engine.

He had him replaced within the week.

He told himself that he just didn’t like the orange of his leotard, and that was good enough.

____

Just because the only help he had was Zims didn’t mean he shouldn’t expect them to work perfectly well. He’d drained them of all that pesky resistance with the virus and their screw-ups generally disappeared with their control, so why did they keep driving him up the wall? They looked like Zims, but didn’t act like them, that should have been more than enough! He had an army now!

Dib tried surrounding himself with just the ones that weren’t irken, but their voices, even devoid of personality, rubbed a grater in his guts, shredding all the meaty bits up whenever they addressed him.

“Right away, Number One.”

“Of course, glorious Dib.”

“As you wish, sir.”

“You’ve got it-”

“Shut up!” Dib only realized when it left his hand that he’d chucked a piece of scrap metal at- he didn’t even know what number it was. It was some kind of vampire Zim, with a hooded cloak that hung over his eyes and the number collar. The Zim didn’t dodge, the metal smacking into him with a wet thud, and a moment later his eyeball popped out, pink blood trailing down his face. “Just shut up, I don’t want to listen to you, I don’t want to listen to any Zim. Zim, Zim Zim, there’s only you and I’m sick of it!”

The Zim didn’t say anything, and Dib’s fists balled up, nails digging into the soft flesh. He could feel the crescent dips from the last time he’d made fists, nails sharp enough to dig in and it hadn’t been enough time for the Pak to have healed them. He was getting annoyed more and more easily these days.

“Well? Going to take me insulting you?”

“You told me not to speak,” the Zim droned, cloak rustling as he shifted slightly. The eyeball was still dangling loosely from the optic nerve.

“Right. Right, I did do that…” He waved his hand. “Pop your eyeball back in.”

The Zim did.

"Tell me what you think of me."

"You're perfect and I'm honored to serve you, Dib." Blood kept dripping down his face, sliding under the cloak and out of sight.

He was sent off for the plan a few hours later. The fact that he was injured and that might affect his usefulness for the plan didn’t really cross Dib’s mind, he just wanted him gone for how he made something churn in his stomach. (Especially when he saw him from the corner of his eye.)

____

None lasted for more than two days. Why would they? Dib had a very large supply of puppets to use, why would he waste time on any individual one that wasn’t measuring up? He deserved the best, after all.

(His left eye had started to develop a persistent twitch.)

He tweaked the programming, made them slightly less robotic. It was just for something to talk to. He was sacrificing his own time to help cleanse the universe, he should have someone to talk with, even if it wasn't very intelligent conversation. He was still talking to himself in essence, but it was a little less blatant, at least. It wasn’t like they had enough will left to pry away, especially not now that he was on the fourth iteration of the virus.

“What do you plan to do when this is done?”

“Hmm?” Dib pulled his goggles up from welding something on one of the newer ships. “Oh! That’s easy. I’ll just…” He trailed off, the confidence in his sentence dying in his throat. “I’ll find another universe to call home. Maybe I’ll find some cute ghost-hunting girl or something, I dunno.”

Zim- some kind of supervillain one, he had a cape- tilted his head to the side. “Ah. What would you want in a companion?”

“Easy. I’d want someone who listens to everything I say, but also has ideas of their own so I’m not just talking to a brick wall. Talented in combat and fun to spar with, I’d need that if I take them on paranormal expeditions. They have to put me first, I don’t want to be ignored ever again. It doesn’t even need to be a human, honestly- I’m sick of people, and all I have to do is take one of the ships and go into one of the cleansed dimensions. Maybe a vortian or something.” He patted the Voot he’d been fixing up.

“That makes sense, Number One. You would find someone who deserved you, I’m sure.”

The Zim gave a strained, programmed smile, and there was a flash of purple.

“So, what’s the plan when we’re ready?”

Dib’s heel bounced, toes settled down inside of the heavy metal Zim-suit as he shifted on his throne.

“I’ll be sending you all out to make things right. You’ll be changing everything, and conquering those inferior people.”

Two grinned. “Oooh, I can’t wait! It’s lucky I followed that signal here to you, Number One! Your training is shaping us all up, and I really feel like the statue out in the lobby is really helping raise morale. I’d follow you anywhere. You’re really doing something special, and I’m honored to be a part of it!”

Dib leaned forward, petting between Two’s antennae, and heard as much as he felt a purr rumble through his body. It took him a few minutes to pull away.

“Number One?” Zim sounded concerned, and Dib shook his head to clear it, the memory falling away like pixels in an etch a sketch.

He wasn’t concerned, though, was he? He had a program telling him to sound that way.

The same program that had told a thousand other Zims to march to their deaths for him.

Well, they were useful now, why should Dib care? A Zim lost was a world gained, a universe saved from irken tyranny! He was doing the right thing! There was a sharp pain in his temple, and Dib automatically aimed a gun at Zim, sure it was his fault, before realizing that he was tugging at his own hair spikes.

He shot Zim anyway.

It didn’t help.

(It didn’t help the next three times either, Zims walking in, falling back, and getting hauled off by the next one in line.)

____

His chest ached as he hung over the balcony, watching the Zims toiling on the ships below. The murmur of noise as they repeated what they were supposed to be doing was a dull drone, making his ears antennae head hurt.

“Two would have done this better,” he muttered to himself as one of them ran into another, and then a chill ran up his spine.

Two had died months ago, why was he thinking of him now? He’d fulfilled his purpose. He’d done more than enough.

More than enough. He’d been throwing himself at Dib even before the virus, so eager for a leader but one of the only competent ones of the lot on his own, the leader of the elites but happily subservient to Dib nevertheless.

Dib had rewarded him by having him kill himself and every single member of his own filthy race. Saliva welled up in his throat, but he swallowed it down, claws nails clacking on the metal of the railing before gripping it tight enough to twist it beneath his palms.

“I was right,” he said aloud, staring down at the Zims working. They were practically a singular mass, none of them important enough to matter. He’d throw them all out into the void of space in a second. None of them had ever done anything worthwhile.

(None of them had spent months talking to him like Two had, complimenting and worshipping and admiring him, bringing him sodas when he coughed and making him laugh by frying the weaker Zims in the flamethrowers a few extra times.)

“I was right.” The words were a little louder this time. None of the Zims turned. They had more important things to do.

“I was right.” He’d just been following his plan, and it had worked, hadn’t it? Everything had been exactly as he’d imagined it would.

“I was right.” Two hadn’t even turned back when he’d sent him off. Why would he have? He was following orders, and the virus was flawless. Dib had complete control of everything. He still did. He was fine. It was fine. It was perfect!

“I was right.” He was right. He was perfect. He had done something good. He was right. He was right.

Right?

The metal in his fist crumpled like tissue paper as he stared down, down, down, and vomit welled up in his throat.