#and ! even if you shelter your kid from all of it ! kids have nightmares and get scared of fucking anything !

[readychilledwine]

Hi! I love your writing, it always makes me grin. Could I request a platonic Az fic? One where reader is like 10, super cuddly and touch affection starved and Feyre’s ward (kind of like Evangeline is to Lyssandra), and maybe like the kid or sister of one of the children of the blessed that was sent over the wall but feyre found her and took her in even though Tamlin didn’t like it, so when Mor took Feyre, she had to take reader too, and then during that dinner, she gets scared to meet everyone (especially cass sine he seems intimidating) so she runs behind the nearest person, Az and when he doesn’t get upset, she sticks with him through the dinner, wanting to be next to him, hiding behind his wings, asking for cuddles, and playing with his hands. He doesn’t get upset and reader just decides to follow him like a shadow from then in and make him her fave person, like watching when he train, being sad and quiet when he’s gone (until Nuella and Cereadwin bring her sweets), happy when he’s back, and never leaving his side, and even asking him to carry her etc.

Oath

Warnings - platonic soul mates, mentions of Amarantha and UTM, visions

A/N - I'm not saying I am tucking this away for a rainy day, but I'm not not saying that 👀

Azriel Masterlist

You didn't even have to ask or knock. The door opened, and shadows pulled you in. Guiding you to Azriel in the dark as he opened up his blanket and pulled you up to his bed and into his arms. "Nightmares?" He murmured softly into your hair, holding you close. "It's okay, little one. We all have them." You curled into him, basking in the warmth and protection he offered. His wing rested over you, feeling like a blanket weighing down like a tight hug. "Tell me what you saw?"

You started softly. "A robed figure with swans. But this time, it was like.." You paused, wiping tears from your eyes. "It was like I was a swan. You were on the waterline of the lake, yelling for me."

Azriel went stiff, then pulled you closer to him. "No one is going to take you from me. From us. You are ours to look after."

And you had been since you arrived in the Night Court. You had been ripped from the mortal realm with Feyre by Tamlin. Feyre had taken you in, despite arguments from her sisters, when she found you starving in the streets. You became hers, and she yours. She was closest thing you had ever had to a sister, and her regret the moment you were caught following her Under the Moutain was something she struggled to live with to this day.

Amarantha had taken a liking to you, though. You were a tender human girl she enjoyed using as a personal servant. She kept you at her side, almost always glowing with how much you admired the fae, how you were raised to be complicit to them by the Children of the Blessed. You complimented her constantly, adoring her dresses, her hair, her glowing skin. You had no idea she was so evil. So cruel. That was until Feyre's first trial.

It was Rhysand who pulled you into his room one night, sheltering you from the violence going on. He had whispered to you tales of a city covered in starlight and a family. A family that all found each other, chose each other, loved each other. He had worked you into the bargain with Feyre, ensuring he had you for one week every month, ensuring you were away from Tamlin, who, for unknown reasons, hated you.

When you first came to the Night Court, Rhys spent the week with you, teaching you to read and write more gently than he had Feyre, teaching you the different courts, the different high lords. He had put you in dresses that made his eyes sparkle but grow distant with longing. He had called you his little second chance, and on that second visit, you were sold. You loved Rhysand so fully that you had clinged to him, crying as Tamlin ripped you from his arms.

When Tamlin locked you and Feyre in the manor, it had been the scariest moment of your life. You were still mortal, but the power radiating from her, consuming her as she pulled you into her chest for comfort, was terrifying. She had told you the Night Court would be your home now once she had calmed down, and the decision was made to have dinner with Rhysand's family. Mor had taken you, winnowing you two in and letting you enjoy that drop, that rush of free falling. Everything had been fine until you saw Cassian.

Cassian was loud, he was huge, he had muscles in places you hardly knew could have muscles. You had ended up hiding, much to Cassian's amusement, behind the closest thing you could. Azriel.

And it had begun after that. Azriel became your best friend. You constantly looked for him, snuggled him, loved him. He became your everything and you his. You made him carry you everywhere, take you flying, and made him laugh with you under blanket forts.

On your 9th birthday, he had taken you into town, spoiling you before the war with Hybern begun with pastries, books, new dresses, and a stuffed animal. It was the same day Velaris was attacked. You had been taken from him, locked into a cell with Nesta, who held you close, whispering how it would be okay. You were forced into that same Cauldron as Feyre screamed, held back by Rhysand as the male pleaded for the King to let you go.

Azriel had promised you from that day forward you were his, swearing it to you in an oath that you two sealed with a pinky promise. He promised to protect you. To keep you safe. To make sure anyone who harmed you would regret it. But even Azriel, as powerful as he was, could not save you from the aftermath of the Cauldron.

1 week after your 10th birthday, weird things started happening to you. You had dreams where you saw things. Similar to Elain. Her visions came out in riddles, though. Yours were different. Odd to Rhys and Amren. Odd to Helion. Your powers were similar to a seer, yet so different.

Helion had described it as you walking through timelines. You could see all outcomes with no direction of how that outcome would come to be, whereas Elain saw one possible future and potential riddles guiding to it. "A burden," he had said to Rhysand quietly. "A burden to know each way someone you loved could die, to know what happens if one pawn doesn't move exactly according to plan, but not be able to tell them how exactly it happened."

You had fallen into yourself more, seeking only Azriel with Feyre's pregnancy and Nesta's spiral. You only told him what you saw in your dreams and occasionally the twins if he would send them to you with treats.

He pulled you close again, shaking you from the past. "What else did you see?"

"Elain," you whispered softly. "Lucien holding Elain tightly while she laid on the ground. She no longer glowed with the light of the fae. It was like the cloaked figure had taken it from her."

The grip on your nightgown grew tight. "What else?" His voice was tense, eyes getting slightly distant, letting you know he was communicating with Rhys that you had seen something.

"Rhys had facial hair." Azriel hummed. Unknown to you that you had just given him an idea of the timeline. It would have had to have been after the birth of babe. Rhys only grew facial hair when he was tired. "Feyre and Nesta weren't there. Just Lucien, Elain, the three of you, and I think me."

"As a swan," he repeated.

"Yes, as a swan. Trapped on his lake."

"Do you know how old you were when this happened?"

You shrugged. "No, but we had a string. It wasn't gold and glittering like Rhys and Feyre's, but red and power seemed to flow through it, not emotions. It felt like I was transferring something to you."

Azriel kissed the top of your head. "You know I need to tell Rhys about this?" You nodded. "And you know he may need you to show him?" You nodded again, but shivered at the thought of Rhysand in your mind. "We should also mention the red string to Amren. She what she can dig up."

"But she's so cranky." Hazel eyes, tired and heavy with sleep, peered down at you. "New Amren is way more mean than old Amren."

"A problem for tomorrow. Go to sleep, y/n. I'll keep your nightmares away."

"I love you, Azzie."

"I love you too, y/n. I won't let you turn into a swan."

You were asleep almost instantly, body back on that lake, and a cloaked figure with a bone like figure stroking your wings.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

[erinfern0]

simon "ghost" riley as a father

dad!simon spent endless hours building the tiny furniture and painting the nursery walls. Of course, all the equipment was picked by you, as he didn't really have a taste for those things. If he were to choose, the room would end up looking like shit.

dad!simon who smiled the whole time as you folded the new clothes and blankets, stealing some of them to feel the fuzzy material, so calming to his growing anxiety.

dad!simon dreamed of this day for so long, but couldn't help the knot in his stomach at the idea of actually being a father. The fear of turning out to be the same as his old man was disgusting, but never left his mind.

dad!simon who discussed every thought and decision with his therapist, making sure he was really prepared. Coming back after every session, he'd sit down with you and discuss everything, being so happy to feel your touch and reassuring words.

dad!simon who thinks it's a true miracle that he lived so long to carry his little kid home. Holding their tiny body in his arms, the love of his life beside him as he stepped into the house.

and now:

girldad!simon who is completely smitten with his little girl, those huge eyes staring at him as if he was some sort of angel.

girldad!simon spends his free time studying how to style her hair, different ponytails and braids, all depending on his princess's wishes

girldad!simon who lets her color in all of his tattoos, watching her trembly hands holding the newest set of body markers.

girldad!simon who teaches her how to defend herself from a very young age, starting with simple lessons on assertiveness and boundaries, through various self-defend practices.

girldad!simon who spoils her rotten, he just can't deny that pouty little face whenever he tells her no. He has his limits, but most of the time she gets all the dresses, toys, and ribbons she gets.

girldad!simon gets a tattoo of her favorite stuffed animal somewhere on his body.

girldad!simon who encourages her passions, especially when it comes to sports because that's one of the few he has any expertise on. He spends a lot of time getting to know others, so he always has topics to talk about.

girldad!simon who feels pity towards any possible love interest that might even think of hurting his little girl.

girldad!simon is often seen walking around the park, holding her hand at all times. All his scary mysteriousness disappears the moment she talks to him, Simon just turns into the sweetest parent in seconds.

girldad!simon always kneels down in front of her so she feels taller.

girldad!simon will watch any show or movie she wants, doesn't matter how 'girly' it is. Secretly enjoys Barbie movies.

girldad!simon watching her grow up and getting into make-up makes him feel very happy, but nostalgic. Reminding himself that not so long ago she was running around and playing with little bugs.

girldad!simon who always drives her around, a personal taxi driver whenever she wants to hang out with her friends.

and:

boydad!simon who focuses on making sure his boy doesn't pick the same field of work as him, no matter how much his boy idolizes him.

boydad!simon who spends most of his time with his son outside, running, playing soccer, or building him some DIY shelters around the house with branches, leaves, and stones. (my ass can't get this out of my head, such a stereotypical polish childhood)

boydad!simon who adores his boy's interest in the military, but like I said, always reminds him to pick something else. This doesn't stop him from spending hours talking about little details and stories.

boydad!simon spoils him by buying him little cars, wooden models, and sports equipment.

boydad!simon makes sure not to push his boy too much into the toxic masculinity he had to grow up with. His son can be as expressive and sensitive as he wants, there's no one to stop him.

boydad!simon who becomes his son's best friend and savior whenever he has nightmares.

boydad!simon tries to be on-trend with electronic devices, spending lots of time to learn how to play his son's favorite video games whenever the little one is asleep, so he can help him if he struggles with a mission/achievement.

boydad!simon who has to make sure his son is a responsible person, giving him adequate punishments so he doesn't think there are no consequences to his actions.

boydad!simon studies dinosaurs just because his son finds them oh so cool. After reading some articles, he finds himself fascinated with them too, sharing all the facts and sources for them.

overall:

dad!simon would do anything to keep his child safe. He'd let the world burn if it meant his little one was the happiest kid on the planet.

dad!simon gets anxious if his kids don't answer him immediately, so he made sure their phones have their locations turned on all the time.

dad!simon doesn't argue with you around the kids, any serious discussion is only between the two of you, so in case emotions take over they never witness it.

dad!simon thinks it's crucial to show up, so he rushes from his deployment to make it to his child's school play or graduation, just to be able to support them.

dad!simon encourages his kids to go and see a psychologist, even if they don't struggle with much. He understands that there are just things important to talk about, but the kid might not want to open up in front of their parents about everything.

dad!simon turned out to be the father his old man could never be. In his kids' eyes, he's a true hero and the best dad they could have.

masterlist | request info

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

And that's how you begin to heal (and stop Catnap and Mommy Long Legs from killing each other at the hospital)

You were hurt. Not just emotionally, of course, you were pretty much dead inside for more than ten years at this point, but you were physically what anyone could only describe as "devastated". Your back ached with carrying the grabpack around for the last four days or so, you had broken three bones in your right hand, your arms and legs had almost been torn off at least twice, and, of course, the nasty cut from almost getting impaled.

Frankly, it was a surprise that you didn't just collapse the moment the first ambulance arrived. But if you did, then your newfound kids would have panicked, and the Prototype would have been really, really mad if there was another conflict just when you all thought this nightmare was finally over.

You were gently cradling Poppy in your lap when you saw the ambulance lights in the horizon. You had tried to prepare yourself for this moment since the end of the confrontation with the Prototype, but your heart was still almost breaking out of your body with how fast it was beating. And yet, you kept a calm exterior. Comforted an anxious Dogday, let Bunzo also take shelter in your lap, much to Poppy's dismay, even tried to distract Mommy Long Legs with a joke or two.

The cops arrived first. You had put yourself between them and the group of toys, trembling from head to toe. You didn't exactly know what exactly they were going to do, but Catnap's sudden apparition behind you made some of them shiver.

You calmed down the big feline as you approached the authorities. "These guys were trapped inside the factory", you calmly communicated. "Playtime Co. made them as experiments. They're organic, very hurt, and starving. Please put your guns away unless you want to startle any of those kids".

The man you that approached you had his eyes glued on the group, who, in turn, was staring back. Your thoughts went racing to the idea of Mommy Long Legs deciding to attack them in order to protect you or herself, and you immediately just gave him the bag full of paperwork you had found on your journey. He stared at the first paper, then quickly looked at the others, then simply said:

"What the actual fuck did Playtime got themselves into...?"

"Maybe try to leave a bucket close to you. Some of the things they did won't be good for your stomach".

The cop ignored you. Then the ambulances arrived, and all hell broke lose as your last remains of sanity and calmness fought a war in order to not die from the idea of any of the toys you had just rescued ending up attacking a doctor. You came back to the group, gently begged them to be patient and to please trust the humans dressed up like doctors, and to please remember these ones were there to help, not hurt, and to please stick to each other.

Then a mini huggy tried to bite a nurse. You called out for the little guy, who simply shrugged and approached Kissy Missy, headbonking her and begging to be close to her as the strange humans surrounded you.

An hour and a half later and everyone was at the hospital, trembling and anxious, and you were stuck with Catnap and Mommy Long Legs.

"C'mon, big boy", you called for the feline. "You can do it. Just let the nurse help you!"

Catnap hissed, loud and angrily, at both you and the man with the lotion for burn treatment. Long Legs was sitting close by, eye twitching and a smirk on her face as she watched the two of you.

"Why not?!"

"I can survive. I felt worse", he told you, eyes never leaving the nurse. "Now leave".

"Theo, weren't you the one who told the Prototype it was time for us to live instead of just survive?"

Catnap then looked straight at you, looking very unhappy. The growled again before, finally, offering one of his paws for the nurse.

"Don't try to pull any tricks. I know all of them".

"Like playing dead?", Long Legs chuckled. "Like what you did to me?!"

"And now, look at where we are. I have merely lost part of my ear. You, on the other hand..."

You sighed as Long Legs got up from her chair, hand on her missing arm: "Are you sad because Mommy scared you? Booh, booh, Mommy is so scary, Prototype! Please, help me destroy Mommy!"

"I learned how to hunt. You learned how to throw a tantrum".

"And Mommy never had to call Daddy for help when she was hunting!"

"If you two keep on like this I'll undergo cardiac arrest"

The two toys stopped hissing at each other to instead stare at you with wide eyes. You made a "hmph" sound, pointing at your own bandaged chest in order to further prove the point.

"See? I'm all hurt in there! If you two don't let the nurses and doctors treat you, then I'll be the guy needing treatment".

"No, no, nononono!", Long Legs dramatically gestured a half "X" sign with her single arm, quickly going back to just sitting on her chair instead of being all spread out. "You'll see how much of an excellent patient Mommy is, don't worry! I'll show you a good example!"

"...", said Catnap, growling quietly to himself as the nurse was finally able to treat him. "... I remember you going into disiciplinary confinement more times than I ever did".

"W h a t ?", Long Legs asked.

Catnap stared at the window, tail anxiously twisting. You merely melted in your own chair, staring at the serum next to you as it was slowly trying to make your body feel better again. The nurse kept on with his job, and the TV kept on playing an episode of Pingu.

They even had disciplinary confinement, uh?, you thought, not impressed in the slightest, the memory of having to hold Long Legs in your arms so she would let the doctor examine her passing through your mind.

Catnap and MLL were now staring at the TV, little Pingu entertaining them. Poppy was asleep in another room with Bunzo, Kissy and Huggy, while both Miss Delight and Dogday were undergoing more serious medical procedures for their "conditions". The other toys were being examined, and, if everything went well, would soon return to you. And Prototype was doing his job back at the factory at making sure no one would find the how tos of transforming a person into a toy...

You closed your eyes, feeling true relief for the first time in your life.

Maybe, just maybe, after all of this was said and done, you could all live together as one big family. That was what Poppy suggested, at least, and the other toys seemed happy with the idea. And also maybe, also just maybe...

You could finally feel free from all this guilt

---

Oh, dear, this was harder to write than I thought, but it was a blast! I didn't proofread anything but I'm open for more requests regarding my own take on "Angel saves everyone"! And if you enjoyed this, please check out my commission info - it's all in my pinned post at ! garcavisconde! Thank you! <3

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

hey! hows secret!reader doing??

"I thought," your uncle said, proffering an envelope from a jacket pocket, "that you might want some of these."

"Ooo," Jason said, taking it before you could protest. "Blackmail pictures? Awkward kid pictures?"

"Not really," He said, chortling. "But she always was a cute little shit. And magazines and certain conservation and special interest groups liked an occasional kid picture- especially if that kid was beaming like she won the lottery because she got to feed fruit to a creature of some sort. Or play with a baby elephant."

"She still likes creatures. You should see how good she tamed my youngest brother," Jason said.

"Obviously," he said, proffering chicken to Elmer as a bribe. "I still want to know where you found this cat. I've met tigers that have better manners."

"A shelter," you snort. "Jason thought I needed socializing."

"You did," he protested, thumbing through the pictues. All are meticulously labeled and dated. Your sister conspicuously absent. Like you were absent from so many pictures in your parent's house. It was clear that while she built business connections, you hobnobbed with any critter you were allowed to pet or feed. Traipsing along with your father's brothers- the other spare.

You had been a cute little shit as a little girl. You'd been a pretty young lady. But now, even with your scars you were a beautiful woman. It was hard to even notice them.

"You always do better with a little friend," your uncle pointed out, his face warming as he watched Elmer make himself comfortable on your lap. Insolently demanding your attention back. "Remember Roscoe?"

"Aww he was sweet. Such a good boy-"

"Roscoe?" Jason asked interested.

"A white rat," you explain. "He was blind but. He liked to play fetch with jingle bells and would climb my hair like a rope."

"He had to live at my house," your uncle explained. "Laurel said he gave her nightmares. But- he knew who his buddy was. He always did a little dance in his cage as soon as he heard her come up the steps."

"Rats, Ugly cats, anything else?" Jason asked, curious.

"A goat," you add, "and a couple geckos."

[rue-dixon]

Daryl Dixon with a daughter headcanons

- his entire parenting style would be, "do as I say not as I do."

- when he's fixing a car, his bike, or even his cross bow he'll ask you for help and ask you to hand him tools. While also trying to teach you how to do it so you can do it yourself later on.

- would probably totally forget to explain to you what periods are so when you get it for the first time you think you're dying and he has to talk you down.

- reads you bed time stories when you were younger but would interrupt himself every few minutes with some sort of comment or criticism. "Then the princess kissed the frog an- seriously? She's gonna believe the talking frog??"

- will always let you sleep with him if you have nightmares.

- has woken you up with snoring a couple times.

- teaches you how to hunt, gather, and shoot of course.

- wants to be involved in your hobbies, so if you draw, write, read, paint, sing, it doesn't matter. He wants to be included in them and will always complement you on them. Will watch you too if it's something he can watch you do.

- tries not to smoke around you too much when you were younger. Because he remembers how bad his moms smoking affected him as a kid, but will be less and less careful as you get older. Tells you not to smoke while simultaneously refusing to ever quit himself.

- brings you back gifts when he goes on runs. Especially during the prison era, brings you back things to decorate your space to make it feel less like a cell. You have so many trinkets, jewelry, stuffies, or anything the goes with your hobbies from him. Good thing he doesn't have to pay.

- when you outgrow your clothes or need new ones he'll go with you so you can pick them out yourself. But will also ask Carol or Michonne to come along as well because they know more about these things.

- is surprisingly very calm when teaching you how to drive. Has you drive up and down empty highways and around empty parking lots. You don't need a license of course but still should learn the proper way.

- if you're lesbian and come out to him he'd probably like snort and be like "I know.. so who's the lucky girl?" And give you a very cocky smirk before looking away.

- sometimes he gets sad knowing he can't give you a better life than you deserve.

- would not shelter you, like at all. If you were Carl's age, he would've already taught you to shoot way before him which caused Carl to fuss at Rick. But he'd still try to shield you from anything super bad or grossem.

- if you have a bad fight later that night when they two of you will be getting ready to settle down for the night he'll try his best to apologize in the way he knows how. So either giving you something, helping you or apologizing for something specific. "M' sorry for yellin' at ya."

- hugs, but mostly hair ruffles and pats on the back.

[lace-coffin]

hii!! I absolutely love your works ‼️‼️ yummy

//

But I was wondering how Asa Emory would react to a Kid? Around 7-9.

Butttt, Asa comes home from teaching a bunch of kids, gets dressed and goes to the hotel but when he comes in, there’s stuff like missing, other peoples doors / cages open, etc, and there’s like a little kid stuck somewhere (like maybe Asa’s safe room or whatever) and the little kid kinda of just broke into the hotel looking for shelter.

(Like the kids in an abusive family, etc, and has really ripped clothing and a few bruises on their face)

Idk if this is silly, 😭I just wonder how Asa would react to a abused kid breaking into his hotel and being like ‘dis my hotel now’

How would Asa Emory react to a child breaking into his hotel?

Requests are open!

Asa was bone tired. Teaching children will do that to you. Not that anything particularly noteworthy happened, a few tantrums he had to sooth but that was about it, nothing special. Still, teaching kids sucks the energy and maybe your soul out of you.

Children operate on such a different wave length to us and come out with and do things that Asa couldn’t even begin to conceptualise. Today a kid told him “mommy said that my daddy is going to be having a sleep over at his lady friends house from now on, so I get to sleep in the big bed!” And then walked off like it was nothing.

Trudging into his room Asa tugs off his tie, work clothes following soon after, sighing he slings them onto the bed in a heap, he can deal with it later. Usually he would take a shower but considering the work he does it would just be a waste to get clean to get dirty again.

Slamming the door of his white, but mostly grey van due to it being in dire need of a wash, Asa makes his way to the front entrance of the hotel.

Immediately he can tell something is wrong, the door is still locked as he left it but the bordered up window has a gaping hole across two of the planks, most likely rammed in on the spots that were weakened by weathering.

The gap was maybe large enough for a lanky adult to squeeze through, maybe a child? It definitely wasn’t the police, there would be cop cars and way more fanfare. Looters maybe? If it was looters then there’s a chance the traps inside had taken care of the issue already. It’s not like they’d find anything of value, well anything of monetary value, he’s not sure criminals would consider his collection as valuable as he does.

Steeling his nerves he enters the building, hand readied at his pocket knife clipped to the ring on his belt, it’s unlikely anyone would manage to get the jump on him in his own hotel but it’s always good to be prepared. After darting around corners cautiously he makes it to the control room, something of a safe room almost, before pausing.

Ah, a child. Stood defensively just beyond the door is a dirtied looking child, skin unclean and clothes having seen better days. He defiantly has some guts breaking into here of all places, or maybe it’s just desperation? It looks like the child may not have anywhere to go or atleast doesn’t have a safe home environment. Ok, get the kid to safety and then he’s out of Asa’s (lack of lol) hair. He’s pretty sure all his subjects are secured and in there cages but he can never be too sure what happens overnight when he leaves so it’s best to be hasty. He works with kids all day, he can do this.

He can’t do this. Admittedly the kid probably has a lot going on but they’re a nightmare. So far they’ve kicked and hit whenever Asa approached, attempted to bolt from the locked room, and declared “this my hotel now” to an unamused collector. Eventually they come to a truce, finally managing to subdue the kid with fruit slices and the promise of taking them to the authorities. As much as he doesn’t want the police snooping around here it’s not like he can leave the kid in the cold like this. Asa’s going to have to drive to a random street and essentially lie about where and how he found the kid.

Lord help this man.

[94badbye]

Gotham mourns the day of Jason's death, and Tim Drake should too, but he can't.

It's a day of pain and sorrow in many, many ways. Bruce wakes up earlier and leaves earlier, and Alfred speaks softly and quietly, as if there's real grief in the air.

(There is. Tim knows. He remembers finding out about Robin, about Jason Todd, and then realizing the bitter truth behind it all. Robin is dead.)

In the beginning, people used to call Jason a street kid, a rat. Tim's memory has always been fantastic, and he remembers people's harsh words about that young, young boy, and how Bruce Wayne was fraternizing with poverty, while others were kinder, gentle and sweet, because if even a rich man like Bruce can do such a thing, then there's still hope. It was stupid, and Tim still can't understand how people can be so shallow.

Such a young boy, and Mr. Wayne was a hero by adopting him, by taking him under his wing, by treating him like his son.

It's been months, and yesterday Wayne Enterprises made a big donation to some shelters of homeless kids that is definitely going to be in the news, something about Bruce Wayne remembering his dead son's life.

Bruce took the day off.

It's weird. Every year, Bruce will mourn like Jason was just killed again.

Maybe. Maybe the Jason Todd he knows really is dead forever, and this version of him is what was left, something different and twisted.

If Tim tries hard enough, he can feel the scar on his scalp, the ugly pattern on his skin, close to his nape. And he can hear the shouts. And the screams. And the sound of broken glass being stepped on. Everywhere. And blood blood blood, a red mask standing over him, fists clenched and hoarse voice.

He feels like throwing up when he thinks about it. It's kind of hidden in his mind, but not exactly—a blurry memory.

Sometimes, he closes his eyes and has a flashback of a bloody uniform. A memoir. The uniform of a young soldier.

For some reason, the second Robin was known for being ruthless. Sometimes, in the past but not that long ago, Bruce would call Tim by Jason's name, and wouldn't even notice his mistake. Tim wouldn't correct him either.

Today, on day of Jason's death, Red Hood is nowhere to be found.

Big boots, strong arms, a gun. Sticky blood.

Replacement, Replacement, Replacement.

Now, they're in the Batcave, high-tech equipment everywhere around them. Tim is standing but Bruce is sitting down, typing something in one of the computers, because a day off as Gotham's bachelor doesn't mean a day off as Batman.

"B," Tim says. Soft but not too soft, because Tim isn't supposed to talk about today, not like that, not like it's easy.

Robin was created to save and to smile, never to suffer or to die.

"Hm."

"Are you okay with patrolling on your own?"

Say no, so I'll stay. Please. I'll sleep here, in my room, and we'll wake up tomorrow like this day never happened.

Please.

"Of course. You should go, Tim. It's late."

Never too late. He wants to stay. Bruce is big and tall and Tim wants to hug him and tell him about the scar that is never going to fade away and the blood and the glass.

Look what he did to me. I mourned too, but look what he did.

Anger is something no Robin should feel, and yet—

Tim's cheeks are suddenly warm and he looks away from Bruce.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Alfred can give you some food so you can eat when you get home."

"I'm not hungry. And I can cook, you know?"

Blue eyes, just like Tim's and Jason's, but Jason's are also kind of green. Tim wonders how much of a father figure Bruce used to be—did he buy Jason books and toys and watch movies with him? Did Jason have nightmares just like Bruce still has? If so, did Bruce hold him through it?

Tim's parents are traveling. They're coming back next month.

Bruce isn't there to hold him when he wakes up in the middle of the night, but why would he be anyway?

And Tim knows Bruce asks his next question more because he needs to than because he wants to, "You know you can stay the night whenever you want, right?"

Even tonight?

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, B. But I have school tomorrow, so… I should—I should go. See you tomorrow, kay?"

Tim doesn't even talk to Alfred about the food. He just leaves.

[imtrashraccoon]

Edit: Future Tumble here! I just wrote a short drabble that is related to this fic. Check it out here!

Or check the rest of the fic out here.

The Nightmare of Apathy: Chapter 1

Word count: 4,712

Nightmare x Female Reader

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

"Don't forget to refuel your lantern before you leave!"

You stopped abruptly at the door, groceries in one arm and your other hand on the knob. Glancing down at the lantern swinging from your hip, you saw that while the fuel was low, it wasn't dangerously so just yet.

Mrs. Jones appeared from the back of the shop with a child on one hip. She looked haggard and a rather thin considering she'd had five kids by this point, yet her face was stuck in an annoyed expression. "You know what will happen if you get stuck in the dark..." she warned, although the tone she used sounded like she was scolding a small child.

You shook your head, "Yes, I know, but it's fine. My home isn't far and I'll be able to get there quickly enough if I run."

The shop lady sighed and shook her head. She seemed a bit more stressed than usual and you knew she'd only reminded you about your lantern out of habit from reminding her own family.

"Right. May the Moon keep you..." She turned and returned to the back room to finish whatever she had started doing earlier before you'd stopped by.

You scowled and, more harshly than you should've, responded, "And may he guide you for the night..." You opened the shop door and left, the little bell signaling your exit.

While you knew in your soul that Mrs. Jones was only wishing you to be safe as was custom, you couldn't help but feel disgusted whenever anyone did so. Why should you partake in some stupid religious tradition when it had never been helpful before? You scoffed and descended the steps to the cobblestone road, before beginning to make your way home through the dim streets.

This whole world was cursed and you had been unlucky enough to be born into it. It was perpetually in a cycle of darkness and twilight, but never to be any brighter. Only the stars and the moon pierced the veil of permanent black and granted some relief to its denizens. It was often chilly, even in the warmer months, but the cold of winter was more often than not, deadly to any creature caught without shelter.

It was all you'd ever known and all you would ever know. You were unimportant and worth little more than the clothes on your back. No amount of hard labour could change that, which was a fact that everyone seemed only too glad to remind you of at every little opportunity.

You were lucky to have lived as long as you had. If not for your late grandmother, the darkness would've taken you long ago after your parents both suddenly passed. She was a kind and infinitely selfless woman, who cared for you as if you were her own child. But even she could only give so much and as hard as you'd tried, you were unable to save her when she fell ill last Winter.

Now, you were completely alone. While you were fortunate to have a job working at the local mill, it was hard work and you often had little time for anything else. The pay wasn't great either but at least you only had yourself to worry about. If you needed to, you could skip a few meals here and there to help save money.

You glanced up at the crescent moon and scowled again before quickening your pace. You needed to get home before your lantern did run out of oil or else you'd really be in trouble. While this town had lanterns on each street corner and at major intersections, the spaces in between were often large and nearly pitch black once the shops were closed.

You weren't afraid of the dark per say; you and every other child growing up had quickly squashed that fear early, but it was what lurked in the dark...or what could. While wild animals would certainly be something to fear, a far greater evil dwelled in the shadows. One who no one dared to speak his name carelessly lest his anger be turned on them.

Lord Nightmare.

Even just the thought of his name sent shivers down your spine, for good reason too. He was a god, the Lord of Dusk and Shadows, and the ruler of this cursed world. His word was absolute and he ruled through fear and an iron fist.

No one could stand against him, though countless fools had tried. Yet they'd only served as grim reminders of his absolute power. Not only was he physically powerful, but he was also prone to targeting the mind, even when you weren't anywhere near him. Indeed, constant nightmares were the norm for everyone and the only known temporary relief was by taking an expensive and highly dangerous drug, but when that wore off, the nightmares would only return in full force.

In the face of such bleak hopelessness, it was only natural that people would turn to anything that could promise them even a smidgen of hope. Enter the commonly held worship of the Moon. While you'd never been interested in the schematics of the belief, nowadays it seemed most worshippers only believed in spirit, rather than actively taking part in any actual worship. You only saw it as a superstition, like wishing someone good luck, and didn't actually believe the Moon had any power over someone as powerful as Lord Nightmare.

Of course, when the worship of the Moon came to his attention, he'd threatened to block it out entirely unless his demands were met. He really could block out the moon though, and regularly did so whenever the people were late with the yearly tribute that was really just a tax. Speaking of, he regularly demanded exorbitant taxes that were due each year once Spring had arrived. And if the tribute wasn't deemed good enough in his eyes? He'd lash out and punish everyone severely, be it in the form of increasingly horrible nightmares or whatever other twisted punishment he could think up.

Still, you had more immediate concerns to worry about, like getting home so you could refuel your lantern for one. You still had enough oil to last at least another day or two if you conserved it. For now, you would do what you'd always done, live one day at a time and not worry about things outside of your control. One day, you would save enough money to live in a better house and maybe after that, you could save enough to at least live comfortably.

You were in such a hurry that you almost weren't watching where you were going and you rounded a corner a bit too sharply, nearly barreling into someone. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you and I...." Your apology died in your throat as you regained your balance and saw who it was that you'd collided with.

The girl snarled and shoved you away from her. "Yeah, you'd better be sorry," she grumbled and very obviously looked you up in down, her ugly face curling into even more of a disgusted look.

The ever so wonderful, Catherine "Cathie" Lee, the mayor's daughter and your worst enemy. What you did to warrant her hatred? You still had no idea and you could only remember one time when you were both kids that you weren't able to go to a birthday party of hers. She'd seemingly hated you ever since and it had only gotten worse as you'd both grown up.

To top it off, she wasn't alone. Two other girls stepped around the corner and stood beside Cathie. Their tittering laughter only made you even more angry than you'd already been. Of course all three were wearing matching sparkly pink cocktail dresses and of course they looked like they'd just stepped out of an equally disgusting speakeasy. You could swear they stank of alcohol above all that perfume that was practically cascading off their skin.

You took a deep breath to try and remain calm. "Becky, Marcelle,...Cathie. Lovely evening to be out on the town I see..." You weren't even trying to hide your irritation but you were at least attempting to act civil, even if you were being snarky while doing so.

"Well it was, up until a minute ago," Cathie grumbled.

"Then, you know what, I'll do you a favour and remove myself from your sight," you muttered and rolled your eyes slightly. "Stars know my evening will improve drastically..."

You went to walk past them but Becky and Marcelle moved to block you. You narrowed your eyes at them and tried to go around but they blocked you again, this time trying to restrain you as well.

"Don't touch me!" you growled and yanked your shoulder away from their grasp.

"Do you ever stop talking?" Cathie hissed as she stepped closer to you. She shoved you roughly, causing you to stumble backwards into the arms of her cronies.

They grabbed your shoulders again, much tighter this time so you couldn't so easily pull away. Your bag of groceries you'd been carrying hit the cobblestone and the contents spilled out, much to your irritation. Once again, you tried desperately to pull away from them, but their grip held fast and your efforts were futile.

"You know what, your attitude reeks...must be because you spend all your time in the graveyard!" Cathie shouted in a mocking tone.

"I do not!" you shouted back. "Just because your parents are both alive, doesn't give you any reason to say that!"

Cathie growled and kicked the brown paper bag, scattering the contents across the street. There hadn't been much in it anyways, but much of it was fragile like fresh produce and eggs. She noticed this and made eye contact with you for a moment, before stomping and kicking everything until there was little hope in salvaging any of it.

You fell silent and just stared at her. This wasn't the first time her and her friends had accosted you, and likely wouldn't be the last. Sure, you could buy more food, but you still had to buy oil for your lantern. You weren't due to be paid until next week too.

Seeing the effect her actions had on you, Cathie grinned triumphantly and planted her hands on her hips. "Look what you made me do..." she grumbled and tried to wipe the bottoms of her feet against the stone. "My shoes are ruined, what do you have to say for yourself, Grave Girl?"

You stared passively back and refused to answer. Evidently, this only served to infuriate her and she backhanded your cheek in retaliation. This earned her a harsh glare and you spit at the ground in disgust.

"What do you want me to say? You did it to yourself, so why don't you go beg father dearest for new ones? Or has he finally smartened up and realized how much of spoiled brat you've become?"

Cathie scoffed and waved dismissively at Becky and Marcelle. They let go of your arms and you jerked away as soon as you were free, shooting a glare at them too.

"You worthless rat..." Cathie hissed under her breath as they started to walk away. "You'll pay for this..."

You tentatively touched your cheek and winced slightly from the stinging. That was probably going to swell up and bruise. You would have to deal with people being nosy and staring at you for a couple of days now.

With a sigh, you tried to salvage what you could, which wasn't much. Some of the vegetables could still be used and a small pouch of chili powder hadn't been burst open. Everything else had already mixed with the dirt of the road and by the sputtering of your lantern's flame, you couldn't afford to spend any more time trying to save anything else.

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

You were woken rather rudely by heavy pounding on your front door and someone shouting for you to open up. The commotion shook your little shack and you worried they would knock your door off its rusty hinges if you didn't.

It turned out to be the Captain of the Town guard and with him were six heavily armed soldiers. Their weapons were drawn when you opened the door and they immediately set upon you. Roughly pinning you to the ground, they cuffed your wrists together and despite your protests about what was going on, hauled you off to the dungeon.

You were left to stew there for several hours. Your body ached from how rough they'd been with you, even though you hadn't even tried to resist. You probably had many more bruises to add to the one on your cheek now.

There were several questions that swirled in your mind as the hours stretched on. Why me? What did I do? Surely they'll realize this was all just a big misunderstanding, right...?

You were held there for several nights. While you tried to get answers from the guards, no one would explain what was going on and they treated you with the same amount of care as any common criminal. Yet you had committed no crimes so it made no sense.

Catherine Lee. This was her doing...it had to be! She must've gone crying to daddy and spewing lies, for them to treat you this badly. While you could feel the despair threatening to consume you whole, you also began to feel angry. It started out small but with each cold night that you spent rotting in the dungeon, your rage at the injustice of this situation grew more and more.

By the end of the week, they finally retrieved you, although they weren't much gentler this time either. Your wrists were once again cuffed and you were brought into the court house, again with a heavily armed guard as if they expected you to attack someone.

It looked like nearly the whole town had filled the room, save for the children and infirmed of course. However, it immediately became apparent that this was no trial. No, this was your sentencing.

"Ha...guilty until proven innocent? What a joke!"

They still hadn't told you what crime you'd committed and they wouldn't let you plead your case, let alone ask any questions. The only thing they were willing to discuss was the annual tribute.

"What do you mean there isn't enough?!"

"...it was raised last minute..."

"Well what are we supposed to do?!"

"There is one thing..."

They planned to send you as the tribute.

You were stunned.

"This can't be happening..."

Lord Nightmare was flexible when it came to payment, so long as it was on time that is. His subjects could give a majority of their livestock and harvest, which wasn't usually feasible after a hard Winter, or a hefty sum of gold, which was the preferred method. He had never accepted humans as tribute with the closest being the few times he'd accepted some of the best builders, artisans, or crafters to work on his domain. The last time this happened though was at least fifty years ago.

"At least she isn't completely ugly..."

"He's not human, there's no way he'll know any different..."

"...it'll be good to get rid of her...."

You were given a nicer dress and forced to wear makeup to hide the bruises you'd sustained during the arrest. After practically being threatened to go along with this for the sake of the town, you were shoved into a carriage for the several hour journey to Lord Nightmare's domain.

So much for being lucky...

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

The forest was so dark. Only the lantern at the front of the carriage permeated a few feet into the inky black. The horses didn't care though and they continued to faithfully pull the carriage through the darkness.

You knew you were close by now. Your nerves felt frayed, like the slightest tug would cause you to unravel completely. You had to be strong right now though, for the sake of your people.

The carriage came to a stop and one of the horses whinnied softly. You could hear the two soldiers disembark and one came to open the door to let you out. You didn't need to be told twice and hopped to the ground with a small huff. The other soldier was talking with two guards in front of a massive iron gate.

You were ushered over to the guards and you could now see that they were far from human. They both towered over the soldiers by at least a foot and you estimated they were probably close to seven feet tall. They appeared like they were wearing plate armour, though it was hard to tell as they were covered in an inky black substance. Their heads seemed to be skeletal and they had sharp teeth as well as cyan pinpricks in their hollow eye sockets. Definitely fitting guards for Lord Nightmare if you were to say.

Frankly, you didn't pay attention to how the conversation went and you were unceremoniously handed over to the skeletal guards. Then the soldiers from your town got back into the carriage again. They left hastily, as if they were afraid Lord Nightmare himself would stop them if they didn't. You didn't blame them, but you couldn't help the wave of disgust that welled up inside you at their obvious cowardice.

You were guided through the iron gate and up a winding path to the castle itself by one of the guards. It was hard to grasp the sheer scale of this place because much of it blended into the night sky, but it was by far the largest building you'd ever seen.

The castle was made of large stone bricks but you weren't an expert on rocks, so they just looked like vaguely dark gray stones to you. Even in the darkness, you could see that the lawns were well manicured and there seemed to be some rather nice landscaping too.

The castle itself was decorated much more opulently than you'd initially expected. Numerous paintings and tapestry hung on the walls, depicting various scenes and themes, and you could tell the creators were far more talented than you could ever dream of being. The rooms were also lit with a variety of different light fixtures like lanterns or candles, but the flames were a light blue and most fixtures seemed to be made from gold.

The further into the castle you were led, the more expensive everything seemed to get. The floors were now covered in long plush carpets with intricate patterns, most of which seemed to be of the stars and the moon interestingly enough.

Finally, the skeletal guard came to a pair of beautifully carved wooden doors and with basically no effort, pushed them open. You immediately realized that this was the grand hall and also the throne room.

There were multiple stained glass window murals depicting what you recognized as the tale of how Lord Nightmare came into power. Weirdly enough, there were a couple of scenes and figures that you didn't recognize though. In the middle of the room was a long table that had room for at least two dozen seats around it, sporting an intricate black lace table runner.

But it was beyond the table that really caught your attention. There, casually lounging on his throne, was the god of this world and the one you now essentially belonged to.

Lord Nightmare himself.

Due to the consistent nightmares, everyone already knew what he vaguely looked like, but to actually see him in the flesh? Well, to put it simply, it was taking everything in you to remain standing and not drop to your knees right now. You could literally feel how powerful his aura was from here and he wasn't even trying to manipulate your emotions, yet.

Lord Nightmare seemed to be a skeleton although he was much different from a human one. Aside from being constantly coated in some sort of black substance, his bones appeared to be wider and thicker, giving the appearance of mass underneath his clothing like he actually had flesh. His phalanges were tipped with sharp claws and adorned with several gold rings, all of which had precious stones embedded into the metal.

On his skull was a circlet formed from gold with a black moon in the center. The black robe he wore was definitely made of the highest quality fabrics to be found and had been tailored to fit him perfectly. Underneath that, he wore a plumb coloured dress shirt with the top button undone, revealing his sternum and the top of his first pair of ribs. While his gray pants looked simple, you knew they were likely far from cheap, and even his shoes were made from a high quality black leather.

His singular glowing cyan eyelight narrowed as he leared down at you from his throne before he beckoned you to approach with a claw. Steeling yourself, you did so, although you hoped he couldn't see how badly your hands were trembling.

"What is the purpose of your visit?" he inquired. His tone of voice was low and it seemed to permeate into the very back of your mind before almost curling up inside. There was a general air of boredom about him at the moment and you really hoped things wouldn't get worse than that.

You took a steadying breath and bowed respectfully. "My Lord, I am here to present the annual tribute from the town Rynbarn," you answered. Your voice was higher pitched than it normally was and your palms felt clammy from how nervous you were.

His eye socket narrowed critically and you could feel the way his eyelight studied you. "Alright, where is it then...?" His tone suggested that he was unimpressed so far and it only caused your heartrate to increase further.

Realizing you should've been more clear, you quickly tried to course correct. "My apologies, I meant to say that they sent me as tribute..." You couldn't help the way your voice trembled at the end of your explanation.

He stared at you for a long time. You couldn't tell if he thought you were lying or if he was simply shocked by what you'd said. You subtly tried to wipe your hands on your dress and shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

He sat up straighter and rested his chin on one of his hands. He definitely didn't seem bored anymore, rather his demeanor seemed more confused than anything. "I see..." he murmured.

You swallowed nervously and looked down at your shoes.

He sighed and muttered under his breath. "Are they fools?" His tone suggested that the question was rhetorical and he continued speaking, rather than wait for you to answer. "Or do they care so little for you that they would rather give you away?"

"I wouldn't know really..." you responded quietly. Well, you had some pretty strong suspicions as to what had happened but you weren't about to complain in front of Lord Nightmare and risk upsetting him.

He made a quiet tisk sound and shook his skull. "I'm genuinely trying to understand the situation but frankly, I am more than a little bewildered." Tilting his skull, he studied you once more, trying to make some sense of this.

"Do you have any enemies or anyone that would wish harm on you?" he asked.

You hadn't been expecting a question like that and for a moment debated how you should answer. Ultimately deciding to be truthful, you took a deep breath and looked up at him again. "I'm afraid so, my Lord."

He raised a bonebrow at that and motioned for you to elaborate. "You hardly seem like the type to purposely make enemies. So, tell me why they sent you specifically."

You got the sense that he was only asking to satisfy his curiosity and not because he felt empathetic towards your plight. Nevertheless, you didn't really have the right to refuse him.

"Well... I may have slighted the mayor's daughter once when we were children and she's seemingly had it out for me ever since. I suspect she spread some sort of lie about me and turned the whole town against me," you explained.

For a fraction of a second, the corners of his permanent grin seemed to quirk up slightly before returning to a more passive expression. "A shame," he murmured. A moment later, his low tone shifted and he raised his voice slightly. "So, this whole situation was caused by a childish squabble?"

You shrank back at the sudden change in his demeanor and could feel the way his voice bounced off the walls. While he didn't seem angry per say, you could feel his aura had shifted to a darker emotion from before, which was concerning.

He calmed down again a second later, as if nothing had happened. "Ridiculous..." he muttered to himself and shook his skull. Looking back up, he frowned at the distance you'd created and motioned for you to come closer again.

Only once you'd done so did he speak again. "I am slightly insulted that they thought they could both get rid of you and appease my demands at the same time. However, I can't very well send you back now either..." He trailed off and studied you thoughtfully for a moment.

"Um, if I may..." you started to say, although you almost immediately regretted doing so with how sudden his gaze flicked to your own. "I can be useful...if you're willing to give me a chance?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "As you may have noticed, I already have my own staff, however, something about you intrigues me. Do you have any particular talents? Such as, baking or gardening for instance?" he asked.

You shook your head, but quickly tried to explain before he could become too disappointed. "My late grandmother taught me everything I know about baking and while I remember several of her recipes, I wouldn't say I'm better than any other person. And gardening was more of a hobby of hers but I helped out when she wasn't able to keep up anymore."

To your surprise, he seemed pleased by your response, although the moment was brief before his expression returned to it's previous passive state. "Very well," he hummed. "You will show me what you can do and if it is suitable, then that will be your place here. If not, well..."

He trailed off and held eye contact for what felt like ages. You didn't dare ask what he was going to say next, but it probably wasn't good. Still, you struggled to keep the staring contest going, although you quickly lost your nerve and dropped your gaze to the floor once again.

He reached out and tilted your chin up with a clawed digit, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him again. You hadn't noticed it much earlier, but now his expression was positively frigid. Even without words, his intentions were immediately clear to you now.

Entertaining this chance for you to prove yourself was him showing kindness, but, you only had one chance to do so. He had been far more civil and patient than you'd expected, yet he had no patience for fools or those who would waste his time. He held the power here and there was nothing you could do to change that.

"I expect utmost loyalty from my subjects and you are no exception. Do you understand?" he asked.

You swallowed nervously. "Yes... I understand very well, my Lord."

"Good." He let go of you and leaned back again. Changing the subject, he asked, "What is your name?"

"Aylin, my name is Aylin," you murmured.

His cyan eyelight seemed to glow brighter and a look of recognition flickered across his face. It was enough to send a shiver down your spine, especially when he let out a soft chuckle.

"A fitting name indeed..." he purred.

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

Hey, Aylin is a Turkish name meaning "moon halo" or "the one who belongs to the moon". I wasn't originally going to name the reader but it is a very fitting name, wouldn't you say?

Updates may be slow but I intend to post a part two at some point.

[castlebyersafterdark]

do you think mike and will have thought about specific sex positions during their sexual awakening journeys? Like has Mike thought specifically, “I want to tap that” when looking at Will’s 🍑, or maybe also, “Please fuck me” if you believe he’s versatile? Has Will thought specifically about Mike topping him? Are they just a mix of chaotic random horny thoughts? Or are they both way too repressed and sheltered to mediate on specific positions?

Pre-relationship is the angle we're going for, and you bet! There’s repression, but the inevitable freight train of teenage hormones, trying to deny what you want and who you are, the fantasies you can’t ignore, falling in love, falling into confusion. A lot of tension, wet dreams and impulsive thoughts at inopportune moments. What started as vague feelings and stirrings of attraction develop into more specific fantasies. The more they repress and try to ignore, the more the feelings are gonna flare and develop. Chaos is key.

(This is very basic/surface level and something I typed out in a flash over a lunch break recently and just now edited for spelling. Maybe at some point I’ll try my hand at a longer, real fic that’s a character study about how I really view the development of their attraction to one another and refining their sexuality discovery and all of that. I actually think they’d both be a bit different than I’ve jotted down here - for example, so much less self-awareness on Mike’s part haha - but this was just an initial stream of conscious drabble, just as a fun writing exercise 😁😘)

Mike: 

His eyes keep falling to Will's legs. Those shorts. The summer has been a nightmare. Monsters. Death. Break-ups and make-ups and make-outs and break-ups again. And who knows where he stands with El. She stays inside a lot. And they’re leaving soon. Whenever the house sells. He’s been hanging out with Will a lot more, trying to fix their shaky friendship. Everything feels wrong. He feels the most wrong of all. Just one giant error. He feels inside out. Incorrect. You’re supposed to be happy in the summer. Now, it’s confusing and sad and he feels… exposed. 

Like those legs. Mike felt like a newborn giraffe and hated the way he could see the knobs of his knees and the willowy tendons of his calves. Well, hate was a strong word. He just wished he looked more like Will. He saw other guys, and looked at them a lot, too. Couldn’t help the constant comparison and calculations and admiration jealousy. Will looked good. Why couldn’t he look like him? Nice, thick thighs. Actual meat on his bones. His shorts filled out, didn’t house pathetic pencils. Why can’t he stop staring? They’re all growing up and changing. It’s weird. The guys at school were already getting taller, and everyone’s gaining muscle and hair and it’s too much, all the sudden, all at once. They’re going to high school and, shit. Those guys are all gonna be even worse better. And Mike feels so scrawny. And other things. It’s just jealousy, he’s fine. He’s jealous of Lucas’s muscles and Jonathan’s shoulders and Will’s ass. No. That’s not - he wasn’t looking. He’s just jealous. He’s an error. Will looks so different than when they were kids, but he’s still small. Not everywhere. Why can’t he stop looking? 

They’d gone to the pool and he’d laughed along with Dustin and Lucas as they ogled some of their classmates, ranking which girls filled out their swimsuits the best. It’s crude, but they were surrounded by sun and skin. He met eyes with Will and they smiled awkwardly at one another. Brian from their class has abs now and Mike watched him as he cannonballed into the pool. He hopes he does it again, golden in the sun as he poised to jump off the diving board. Mike’s just jealous. He doesn’t have abs. Will doesn’t either, but his skin looks nice. Tan and toned and with this tapered little waist that would be the perfect size to fit your hands around and - Mike needs to get out of the pool. Actually. Stay where you are. Getting out is the last thing he should do. Why is this happening to him right then, right there? Will gets out of the pool and Mike watches the way his already tiny swim shorts cling to that hypnotizing ass that Mike can’t stop staring at. Why does he look so good? How do guys even - no. No. Why is he thinking about that? 

They're in the back of the car, three to the row and a tangle of growing limbs. Will's pressed against the door and practically half in his lap and Mike prays nothing happens, so many unfortunate moments have happened lately where he needs to excuse himself, stay in the water until it goes away, cross his legs. Can't do that pressed together in the back of the car and he tries not to think about pulling his best friend over into his lap. Sure! Great idea! That'll hide his really unfortunately insistent and inappropriate boner, shove it into his best friend's - oh boy, Mike. You are thinking so many things. He's got to get out of that car. 

It's easier at night. No one to judge him or catch him except for his guilty conscience. Hopes no one is using that shitty mind-spying trick because he cannot stop his brain, and it's killing him. It's a repetitive loop of Will in his lap. Will climbing the ladder, walking ahead as they suffer in the heat as they trek up to Weathertop. Will laughing and absently swaying his hips as he leans against the Wheeler's kitchen island. How do guys do it? There's really only one way, isn't there? He's heard it referenced in vague terms on the news, from crude jokes from other boys at school. What would that feel like? Not that he has practical knowledge, but how different is it to doing it with a girl? He slides a hand past the waistband of his briefs and tries to think of his girlfriend or whatever she is at the moment. They talk here and there. Make-out sessions on pause. She’s in mourning. He’s in turmoil. He’s fine. He’s normal. He’s an error. This is fixable. He thinks of the girls at the pool. Neon bikinis. Curvy tanned skin, so much skin. Lip gloss and soft kisses. What’s he even supposed to do with boobs, anyway? They definitely don’t tell you, other than, hey, man! Look at her boobs! He looks. Sex seems complicated. Must be even more complicated for guys but maybe it's actually- NO. Nope. He gets off but it’s unsatisfying. What waits for him in dreams he refuses to acknowledge in the light of day. 

It must be amazing, though, if gay guys were all doing it and risking threat of dying for it. Not that Mike's gay. Nope! Will leaves (and El, his girlfriend? Is she still his girlfriend? They kissed. He thinks she loves him. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. He didn’t say it back. Feels like the biggest, glaring error of all time) and Mike spends all his time alone in the basement. With his stupid traitorous brain and an empty space on the couch. No girlfriend. No best friend. He wishes Will was there. Will in his lap. Will on his knees on the basement floor smiling up at him. His mouth was just as nice to look at as his ass. Stop. No. She's too far away to spy. Is she? How far can she reach? Fuck it. His hand's around himself and it's Will's mouth, it's Will in his lap, kissing him, perfect legs heavy around him. Hot inside. Would he feel like that? Would he feel tighter than Mike's own fist? Will in his bed, in his lap again, wanting it much as Mike because he's just as messed up in the head, no. No he's not. That's all Mike. Will in the kitchen. No one's home. He's swaying those hips again and Mike pulls down those fucking shorts and bends him over the counter, chest to the laminate. He doesn't even know what he's doing but in his dreams they both want it.

Mike shifts to his side on his basement couch, then falls into it, lost to the fantasy. Pillow under his hips, face smashed into to the other one. It's nothing like another body but everyone's so far away, Mike's so alone. Will on his back, making those little squeaking sounds he makes when he laughs too hard. Too hard. Like how Mike was when Will laughed like that over the summer. His breathy little sounds he makes when he's out of breath when they walk too far in the hot sun. It's not too difficult to imagine what he'd sound like under Mike, even if Mike wishes it wasn't so vivid. Legs around Mike's waist as he takes it, however that works. Doesn't matter, Will's not there El's not in his head, he'll feel guilty later. Will would feel so good, does feel so good. Something’s seriously wrong with him. 

How is he supposed to talk on the phone with him at the end of the week? They have a call planned Friday. He's so fucked. 

Will:

He's having that dream again. He never knows it's a dream until he wake up, angry and frustrated and ashsmed about how hung up he is over someone who'll never want him. Shouldn't. Couldn't. It's all fine. This isn't new. They haven't spoken on the phone in almost a month but Will dreams about him most nights. What does he look like now? How tall has he gotten? Their last phone call Mike was complaining about his parents nagging him to cut his hair. Was that forced yet? How long is it? Will's sure it's beautiful. He's sketched his mental image of current Mike over and over in his sketchbook. He rips out and burns half of them. Those aren't appropriate. But he's gotten so good at drawing people. Realistically. Men. Mike. He dreams. 

Mike's visiting him. No one else is around. They're lying on Will's bed, just kissing. He's never kissed anyone real before, but he's kissed his hand. Fist loose, thumb tucked under his fingers. Looks like something else, too, and he practiced kissing that as well. The thought makes him flush hot at same time as cold dread washes over him but he does it anyway. He's a dirty little freak, might as well commit. In his dreams they do that, too. And Mike likes it. Does it back to him, too. Dream Mike always returns the favor, no matter what. Will’s traced his own finger there, pushed inside sometimes with the secret tub of vaseline he's hidden in an old shoebox under his bed. If he does it softly, he pretends it's a tongue, someone else's mouth. Doesn't even know why he's fixated on this, why his terrible mind conjured the idea one night during a dream that woke him with another pair of ruined briefs. But it's not as scary as the other way. All of it. All of Mike. How he knows that he wants it. He's having that dream again. He knows what he is. 

Lost in dreamland, hazy and perfect and terrifying dreamland - Mike is visiting and Will has somehow gotten him into his bed. They're kissing. In dreams no one removes their clothes, they simply disappear. Will want to undress Mike, unwrap his beautiful body like a present, but in his dream they're kissing in his bed and their clothing has disappeared. And Mike wants him, Mike flips them so that Will's under him, completely covered. Legs around his waist, Mike sliding inside. How does that really feel? He's only managed two fingers so far and he just knows it's not enough to pretend that it's Mike. He's scoured the house for something, anything, that might be better than his own fingers and he's got a few fucked up ideas to try now that he's invested in this, too far down this path to pretend otherwise. He's a sick freak, right? And he'd tried not to look at Mike too often. But sometimes, you can tell. He could tell. Dream Mike thrusts inside and Dream Will lets him do it over and over. Everything's beautiful and no one dies. 

Sometimes they're in Mike’s basement. He misses the familiar scent. A sweatshirt of Mike's had gotten mixed in Will's clothes and it smelled like Mike through most of the fall. By December it had smelled like nothing, but he still held it to his face sometimes when he wrapped a hand around himself and pretended. Dream Mike's big hands are on Dream Will's hips now. He thinks about other things, too. Will imagines himself sliding to the floor and using his mouth on him - a lot. Mike tells him such sweet things when he's on his knees. When he's awake he sticks his fingers in his own mouth and also pretends Mike is saying nice things to him in that sweet voice he misses so pathetically much. Telling him how much he likes what Will wants to do for him, what he wants Mike to do to him. When he's finished, Mike says every fear he's ever felt. He's not so sweet, then. Mike wouldn't. He might, if he knew. Will wouldn't blame him. 

He knows some things. Ideas that have been put into his head after he stole that magazine and that book from that shop he found while wandering his new town. He steals things now, just for a kick. Innocent and sweet Will Byers. What's a little petty theft when you've already been to hell and will probably get sent back there? He's not a good person. What would his friends think? He can get away with it, in Lenora. Invisible. No one's watching his every move, whispering under their breath about his family and using one of those names about him, devastatingly accurate. He keeps the stolen items with the rest of his incriminating little hoard. If anyone finds the shoebox, at least it'll all be over for him at once. Fuck it. He flips the glossy pages and the images find him again at night. 

Mike in his dreams looks nothing like the men in the magazines, but the gaps are filled in with their inspiration. A few closely guarded stolen glances while changing out of wet swim trunks at the lake or during that one really awkward sleepover when Mike and Lucas compared - no. He shouldn't have looked. He knew he did. Freak. The men in the magazines almost look ridiculous. But he loves it. Why does it excite him, seeing that? Why is he like this? Dream Mike lays in Will's bed and lets him look all he wants and sometimes that's all he does. Wakes up with the image burned behind his eyelids no matter how hard he blinked, and tears clear nothing. He sketches Mike lounging there, with his magical disappearing clothes without anything. It's a good sketch. He doesn't burn it. Into the shoebox. It's worse than the magazines. 

More often or not when he comes, it's with Mike's name in his mouth and a heavy sob. He turns over into his pillow and cries himself back to sleep and hopes for empty dreams. For once. Give him a break from the taunting of harsh, terrifying truths and impossible realities. Helplessly devoted. Help help help. 

[cowgurrrl]

Please, Let Me Go

Summary: “In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness.” - Tennessee Williams [1.1k]

Author’s note: This one goes out to @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel who loves Adam as much as I do 🫶

Warnings: Pre-Joel, probably incorrect wound care, PTSD symptoms, mentions of nightmares, “maybe in another life, we’d be happy”

2006

“You gotta be more careful,” Adam says as he wraps your forearm in gauze.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Did I say it was?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at you, and you sigh. You cut yourself on barbed wire coming back into the QZ after a run, and Adam caught the blood on your jacket before you could hide it. He sat you down at the kitchen table with the first aid kit and gentle hands. The yellow kitchen light shines against his messy brown hair and the square, taped-together glasses on his nose. “FEDRA’s getting antsy. That’s why the barbed wire went up. I just want you to know what’s up.”

“I know.” You say, and a ghost of a smile floats over his lips.

“Then, don’t shoot the messenger.” He teases. You roll your eyes, and he kisses the clean bandage covering your stitches to make it up to you. You grab his hand and run your thumb over the unset fracture in his metacarpal bones that only you can still identify. He smiles and scoots his chair closer to you to fully relish the sudden attention.

“Jane asleep?” You whisper, and he nods.

“Told her you’d tuck her in before we went to bed.”

“Good.” You say, copying his smile, as you lean in to kiss him. It’s lazy and the most unromantic of situations, blood-stained towels lingering on the table, but neither of you cares. You squeeze his hand and pull away to kiss his cheek. “What story d’you guys read tonight?”

“Cinderella,” he says, and you hum. There aren’t a ton of perks to smuggling, but sometimes you do get cool things like the battered old copy of fairy tales. Jane loves hearing them as much as Adam loves reading them. He says it reminds him of when he did story time with his kindergarteners. “She asked if that’s how we met.”

“At a ball?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s convinced I found your glass slipper, and that’s why I wait up for you when you go out without me,” he says. “To make sure you’ve got all your shoes or something.”

“God, I love her so much.” You groan from the cuteness, and he chuckles.

“She’s a good one.” He says.

“I guess, one day, we’re gonna have to tell her how we actually came to be.”

“Tell her all about how you rejected me after our first date.”

“I didn’t reject you. I said it could be confusing for her.”

“And I said kids understand more than we give them credit for.”

“You’re such a teacher.”

“You love it.” He says, and you take a deep breath. Your hand slips in his momentarily, but he doesn’t let you get far. “What?” He asks quietly, like he’s scared of you getting too distant.

“Do you remember your first impression of me?” You ask, and he smiles.

“Of course I do. I remember thinking you were beautiful and strong and smart. ‘S why I asked you out in the first place.”

“And after the Outbreak? What’d you think of me then?” You ask, a little hesitant, and he nods.

“You really wanna know my first thought when I saw you and Jane walk into the shelter that day?” He asks, and you nod. “I thought there might still be some good left in the world if you two were in it. And you don’t have to believe that. I know you probably won’t, but it’s true.” You try to take his words at face value, but you can’t. You think it might always be like this. You don’t know if there is a way to change it. “Do I get to know what you thought of me? Before and after?”

“I thought you were sweet and charming. And I remember thinking you were someone I wanted in my life just because of how you carried yourself. I was really disappointed when you were Jane’s teacher and not because I thought you were a bad teacher.” You say.

“And after?”

“I think… I remember how shocked I was that you were even alive. And I wanted to ask if you were okay and how you’d made it to the QZ, but I was so focused on Jane. I still am,” you say. “I’m sorry. I should’ve checked on you.”

“I probably wouldn’t have even told you what happened. I wasn’t ready.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

“You don’t have to be,” he squeezes your hand. “I just want you to know you’re not alone. We all had to do bad things to stay alive.” You shake your head and look down at your feet to avoid his eyes. He doesn’t flinch. He’s gotten good at dealing with your emotions and weathering them with you. You just wish you could find the words to talk about them. “You’re not alone. We can talk whenever you’re ready, and if you’re not, that’s okay.” He says again.

“I’m trying. I just-“

“I know, I know. I know you’re trying. I’m not asking for anything else, okay?” He asks, and you nod. “I just need you to try with me.”

“Okay.” You whisper, and he kisses you again.

“I do wish we would’ve gotten to go on more dates before everything. Real dates. Not just drops or stitching you up when something happens.” He changes the subject, and you’re thankful he doesn’t push any further. He can see you’re not ready. He can see how grateful you are.

“What would we have done?” You ask.

“Everything. Fancy dinners, dancing, trips.” His smile is so genuine you can’t stop yours from forming.

“Trips?” You ask, raising your eyebrows, and he nods.

“Somewhere with a beach and not the shitty beaches near here. I would’ve taken you to a nice beach where Jane could dig in the sand, and you could read whatever book you wanted, and I’d make us a picnic and pack mule all our shit in from the car.” He says in a dreamy voice. He knew you had a kid when you went on your first date, but you never would’ve thought he imagined a life with the three of you.

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Maybe in the next life.”

“We still have this one. We can make those things happen,” you say without thinking, and he stares at you. “I can make them happen. I know my way around. All we’d have to do is go west. Can’t be that hard, right?” You feel him slipping for a moment and hold his hand harder to keep him close. He smiles a little sadly and squeezes you back.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says. “We’ll have dreams about the ocean and sunshine and sand castles. No nightmares tonight, okay?” You nod and let him lead you to bed, leaving everything unspoken between you at the table.

The nightmares come as usual, but there’s a promise of a day when they don’t invade your psyche like they do now. A promise of a day with sunshine and water and sandcastles. A promise of more time.

[yuniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie]

Safe

c.w : mentions of reader being in a shelter, gaz taking in reader, plot does not follow mw2/mw3 entirely, no uses of y/n. Only (Name) or petnames + ‘You’. Mentions of loss (parents death) + bad staff at shelter.

NOT EVERYTHING IN THIS FIC IS ACCURATE)) hcs

Gn! Preteen! Reader + Gaz

(Some facts in this au/ fic arent canon! If i made any mistakes like /gaz’ age/ do tell me.)▪️▪️

sumry. : pre teen! reader is taken in by gaz after he gets back from a mission he finds reader in a shelter. After being taken back home with gaz, gaz’s family didn’t seem to get along with you.

- The loss of your parents caused you to be sent into a shelter.

- You barely ever felt safe in there, the nightmare and flashing images of your last moments with your parents haunted you every night.

- You woke up screaming, every night you felt drenched in sweat. You weren’t able to go to bed without having flashbacks. - To this day you still remembered how the house burned down.

- And took your parents down with it. Left no trace of them. No one can blame you, you were only a child. By the time you figured out how to call the fire fighters it was already too late.

- Feeling frozen in place as you watched them announce. Your parents were gone. It happened so long ago. You barely had time with them,

- The only memory you ever had of your parents was a notebook you’d had been given by them. It had their signature inside along with pictures. There was a memory book you recovered. But it wasnt good quality.

- Your parents were around for long. By their time not all cameras were the best. - Taken into the shelter at a young age you never had anyone. The staff treated you like crap. The children your age there, for so many years

- Everyone got taken in or adopted. You weren’t. You got sick of it. Constantly kids shoved you around, constantly, staff barely fed you.

- But one thing that was even worse, this shelter was near a field. The field was stuck around for a very long time.

- It used to belong to farmers. It was a very open one but now it was used for military. It was used as a spot for training or anything really.

- One man in particular saw you.

The shelter had a routine for everyday. One weekends, at sometimes thursday night. Children would be allowed to do activities out. You never really participated. You were closed off and reserved. Everyone there was just not overall good people. You were rather watching the soldiers train, you always noticed one man though. He seemed to have seen you from afar.

- Gaz. You knew him as. Gaz, but you always called him the big man. Since he was tall,

- One time running around outside the shelter’s playground. You had felt a shove when you scraped a little bit of your knee. He was the one who reported to the staff if they can check in on you

- So far to run off mid way through training a few times to immediately make his way towards you. He somehow saw himself in you. Quiet, reserved.

- His own captain always told him he was quiet. But you were so sad all the time it broke his heart.

- He was a soft man at heart but really had to be tough, when he got to know you. He had seemed to come across a store one day while on a mission nearby. Or had it seemed they took a stop.

- He’d asked to step in since he quickly payed, he bought a treat.

- When he came to the shelter he took a knee and cooed for you to take it. You thanked him but he suddenly just hugged you. He was tearing up.

- He hated seeing how fearful and unsafe you seemed. How you werent given treats.

- So many things were happening. He got to know you day by day. If they were on a break he always came to see you. Because he wouldn’t forget how you even got him something back. It was a drawing. Of the field.

- He still had it in his breast pocket,

- But really, he had enough of seeing this

What had you done to deserve this. One time he had stepped into the office, when he talked with the staff about you. He got to know about the shelter and what it was like, he saw your file. How could a innocent kid

Be mistreated?

- He took you in one day. He had introduced you to his own home where he lived. But his father really made this a problem, his father constantly asked Gaz if he was same for bringing you in here.

- You got to know Gaz though. You were kept in his room, he told you could sleep in his bed, he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor since he was in harsher conditions anyways.

He’d been used to it.

- But he finally figured what troubled you.

- ‘Why didn’t you tell me, (Name)?’

- The nightmares. When you woke up crying he was almost instantly there. Crushing you in a hug he didn’t realize how hard he held you.

- ‘Are you okay, kid?’ He’d brush your hair away. Wiping any stray tears.

- His hand ran up your shoulder. Patting it a little before he pulled you to rest on him. You were like a scared animal.

- He held you so tight. He felt your tears wet his t shirt. You hit him out of panic but he only took the blows,

- Since that night he’d tried his best to help you relax. He told you what to do if he was gone while you had these nightmares.

- Alot of times he had to keep you only in his room since his father didnt like you. Nor did his brothers do. But he only told them to f off since you were almost his kid now and they’d need to accept it.

- When you were sick back at the shelter you were often just given those pills and told to take them. Then you were just stuck inside all day. No one was present to take care of you. But Gaz made you safe.

- You were having a really bad fever but you saw how quickly Gaz caught onto it. He places you in the tub after he filled it with water. He gave you your privacy. But he was outside the bathroom if you needed him.

- ‘Im here if you need me, kiddo’

- He sometimes had to rush to the pharmacy for medicine. But you couldn’t let go and your hands flew up to his arm one time he actually stumbled back next to you when you did.

- So he had to take you with him. No one can ask who the kid coming with him was. You were a secret though. He didnt tell anyone about you at base. He kept his child safe.

- It didnt make so much sense to anyone how he adopted you. But it was simple for him. He knew you long enough.

- But really it felt fast. A month, and he took you in. You only saw him those days bringing you treats or coming to talk to you sometimes. Even if it wasnt talk. It became a normal thing he’d nod at you from afar as hello.

- You got along. You did grow attached to him, he officialy did sign adoption papers. Legally and finally now. His child.

[supernovasilence]

I'M GONNA CRY I JUST SPENT LIKE AN HOUR ON AN ASK AND TRIED TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT LIKE A FOOL AND NOW IT'S GONE. It was anonymous too I can't even @ the asker ciar I hope you see this ToT

anyway the ask was "please talk more about 'their siblings are all the Pevensies have' " so I'll try to reconstruct what I had

Listen if there's anything I like in fiction it's siblings, and relationships that would probably be unhealthily codependant in real life but this is fiction so it's fine (or you push them that little bit farther into unhealthy and then you have a dark/tragic au, which can be fun too). So thinking about the Pevensies makes me go feral a bit.

Narnia, and her thrones, are a gift, and they're a burden.

The Pevensies gave up their home, their friends, their family, their old lives—even the memory of their old lives—to rule Narnia. And their old lives currently included being sent away into the country to shelter from a war, so they would have lost some of that anyway, and I'm certainly not saying finding Narnia was a bad thing. But it came with sacrifices, and out of all the things they lost, they still have each other. In all the magical, beautiful, wonderful, but strange things they have to learn, their siblings are familiar. Faced with sudden, terrifying responsibility, they can still be just kids, just Pete and Su and Ed and Lu, with each other. And then part of that responsibility is Peter and Susan being parents to Edmund and Lucy as well as siblings, and it's strange and it's familiar and everything gets complicated and messy but it all boils down to they love each other so much.

They're the only humans around. They're the only ones confused by the magical, medieval land they're in. Their friends and advisors do what they can, of course, but in the end the weight of running a country all comes down on four tiny pairs of shoulders; they're the only ones who know how that feels. They make friends, and friends that become like family, but in those early days the only people they've known more than a few days are their siblings. And they've known each other forever. They're the ones that know how to make Peter laugh when he works too hard or coax Susan into cruelly needed bravery and she's terrified or see past Edmund's angry outbursts to what's really bothering him or convince Lucy to be more responsible without telling her she's wrong for being young or emotional or wild. They know the in jokes, the favorite colors, the secret petty hates (Lucy doesn't like bugs, if you make Peter wear gray he won't be able to focus all day because all he can think about is how much he hates wearing gray), the little tricks to cheer each other up. They know how to soothe each other out of nightmares and the sort of places they hide when they want to cry.

And they're the only ones who understand how they can have the magical joy that is their new life and still be sad. They're the only ones who remember England, everything and everyone they knew there. Later, when Narnia has soothed their homesickness with cruel mercy, they're the only ones who know what it is to miss what you can no longer remember, who understand the ache that still gets into your gets into your dreams some nights, long after you know the words and the names to explain.

And then they go back.

Once again, they lose home; once again, their siblings are all they keep. Digory went to Narnia, but he knew her for a few days in her infancy. He doesn't know her castles, hasn't learned her dances, hasn't ridden for leagues through her forests or sailed her seas. He doesn't know what it's like to lose years of your life in an instant. He still remembers the names of months and how to use common household items. He wanted to come back, so he could embrace his mother and make her well. The Pevensies were thrown out without warning, and their mother is far away under bomb-filled skies. But they still have each other. Peter still tries to lead, stumbling, scared, and the others try to support him; Edmund struggles; Lucy runs wild; Susan is frightened. It's strange and it's familiar.

They return to Narnia; it's broken, changed, a thousand years too old. Of everyone the Pevensies knew in the Golden Age, their siblings are all they have left. No one else understands how strange it all is, so much the same but so different, how it feels to be a legend.

Alright this got much longer than I planned and there are two diverging rambles from here so. I'm gonna start with my thoughts on the Pevensies' dynamic in my preferred and-then-they-get-to-keep-Narnia-somehow headcanon, and below the read more will be my thoughts about canon.

They're allowed to stay this time, and rule alongside Caspian. All Narnia has assumed, of course, that the kings and queens of old would. Only the Pevensies know the relief the others feel. Only they understand the secret mistrust they feel, too, that Aslan's promise will be a lie. Some Narnians have utter faith in him, and would think such doubt inconceivable (especially from the four he fought alongside, and died for), or even blasphemous. Some would have preferred if Jadis came back, or are wary of authority altogether after so long under the Telmarines, but Aslan is a story to them, not seen for centuries. He was the Pevensies' friend. Their doubt is mingled with the taste of betrayal, and shame for feeling so.

The Pevensies rebuild Narnia once more, not from ice this time but iron chains. The work is familiar and it isn't; Narnia is the same and it isn't. All Narnia cheers when Cair Paravel is rebuilt, but the Pevensies are the only ones left alive who called it home.

If this is an au where the Pevensies simply never go back after PC, then they are once again the only ones who remember England, and the people they left behind. They aren't surprised when someone says "I'm homesick" while standing in their bedroom in Cair Paravel, know who their siblings are talking about when they ask "do you think they're doing okay? we'll be dead before they even know we're missing", understand how they can be living such a joyous life and still carry a little ember of sorrow in them all the time. If this is an au where the Pevensies still travel between the worlds, but with more time spent in Narnia and a guarantee to always return there, then they are the only ones who know how confusing that is, living two lives, and how hard it is, lying to your family about so much that's so important to you.

But their siblings are family too, and always there no matter the world, and as long as they have each other, the Pevensies can survive anything. Susan is famous for her beauty, and they all four laugh the day she gets her first silver hair, the first among any of them.

"The dear little friends are going senile now," Trumpkin mutters, in his grumbly, affectionate way, and Susan just laughs and says,

"Oh, I quite plan to,"

because Peter is giving her hand a squeeze while Edmund and Lucy beam, and she knows they all understand what this means. They are growing and greying and living, here, in Narnia. They have been and they will. They never got old enough to go grey, the first time round. And they will get very grey indeed, and very old, and they will have lots of friends and a large extended family, and lots of people will have lots of pieces of them. But, though those things get fewer, there will still be some things that only their siblings understand best, because they knew each other first.

(Honestly my base headcanon is actually the Pevensies as a set morphing somewhere along the way into the Pevensies + Caspian as a set, but the point is these siblings spend years being the only ones being each other's closest people and it shows.)

Alright now the acknowledging-canon-for-once option!

They leave again. Peter and Susan know it's forever. Edmund and Lucy now know there is a forever away from Narnia, waiting for them someday. They think of the Professor, who still dreams about the world he saw for a few days as a child. How comforting his stories had seemed before! How sad they seem now, a lifetime spent missing what you will never have again! The Pevensies go to stiff, unhappy boarding schools, and are surrounded by people who don't understand everything they have lost, everything they will lose.

Perhaps cruelest of all, they begin then to be ripped away from their one constant: each other. The Pevensies return to the train platform where they were waiting to catch two different trains: one to the boys' school and one to the girls'. Peter and Susan can't talk through their complicated knot of loss and relief and confusion, can't console each other or offer answers to the question of "what now?". Edmund and Lucy can't share their own relief, their anxiety. Lucy can't cheer Peter up or ask him if losing Narnia can really be okay. Susan can't toss away Edmund's fears with calm logic when he's loses his temper at bullies and fears he's slipping back into old ways, or listen to him tell her she's still brave and beautiful and important and safe even though everyone treats her as a child (a girl-child, at that) and the newspapers speak of war.

The ties binding them fray a little more, and a little more, and a little more. The next summer, Peter goes to study with the Professor. Their parents take Susan to America. Edmund and Lucy are sent to their aunt and uncle. They come back with tales of months at sea, of their friends Caspian and Reepicheep and Aslan. They are all Peter and Susan will ever get of Narnia again. Peter and Susan are the only ones who understand the pain Edmund and Lucy are now feeling, knowing they're never going back, the ones who teach them how to breathe through it until breathing no longer hurts.

It's not enough. Fray and fray and fray. Thread by thread. Susan works hard to live in this world Aslan told her to live in. What right has she to do otherwise? The other three cling to a duty handed to them by prophecy when they were children. What right have they to ignore that? They grow up. Three of them go to university or get jobs and probably move out. (Lucy did not. I'm trying to keep this neutral and not rant-about-how-much-I-hate- canon but I won't ignore that Lucy was seventeen when she died.) They drift apart.

Digory forms the "friends of Narnia". Peter, Edmund, and Lucy are united again, bound together by their shared experiences as they have ever been. It's not the same, Susan is not there, but it's enough.

(Extra painful fun fact! When I typed "Peter, " my phone suggested "susan" as the next word! I have typed "Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy" so often even my phone expects them to be a set! This is fine!)

The Last Battle, the train crash. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy die. Susan buries them, and there is no one left to understand all she is mourning. Her last link to a home she cannot bear to acknowledge aloud. The children she played with. The adults she saw them grow into. She knows what Lucy would look like grown, either because she still remembers Narnia and won't admit it or subconsciously somewhere inside her, but Lucy will never be twenty-three this time around.

Peter, Edmund, and Lucy wait in "true" Narnia. Again, they dwell in magical splendour, and ache in their dreams. This time, they remember who they are missing. Still, they are surrounded by joy, and time does not seem very important anymore, so overall they are happy. (It's not the same, Susan is not there, but it's enough.) Susan lives and learns and mourns and makes her peace and comes to Narnia in her own time, the only one of them to grow old and the last to grow ageless. It's easy to forget sorrow, in that place; when Susan embraces her siblings, the only ones who understand how badly she has missed them are them, because they have missed her just the same. But now they are complete again, and that's all that matters.

[geekfanficwriter]

Jealousy, Jealousy- Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Seeing Robin flirt with Vickie really makes you jealous. Words: 3.4k Warnings: angst, mentions of death, jealous reader

You arrive at the relief shelter along with Steve and Robin, carrying various bags of sorted-out clothes and other essentials. After donating the items, you ask if there is anything the three of you can do to help. You and Steve are directed towards the clothes sorting area while Robin goes to help and make sandwiches. You don’t make conversation with Steve as you focus on your task, it’s been a long couple of days for all of you and you’re all worn out from the battle as well as not knowing what’s going to come next. You’ve been putting on a brave face for the kids but in reality, you were miserable and scared. Watching Eddie die, Max nearly dying, seeing that your sacrifices had all been for nothing as Vecna hadn’t actually died, it had all been too much. You were hardly sleeping, having nightmares every night since. Even though you and Robin had both been staying at Steve’s place, it didn’t help keep away the loneliness you felt, particularly at night. ‘You okay?’ You felt a comforting hand on your arm and you snapped out of your thoughts, turning to look at Steve who was frowning down at you with that motherly look on his face. ‘I’m as good as I can be.’ You shrug, trying to not make him worry any more than he already was. ‘Yeah, it’s been hard but we’ll get through it, we always do.’ Steve places down the shirt he’s told and pulls you into a hug. You relax slightly in his arms, not completely but enough so Steve isn’t completely worried about you and pulls away. You both go back to folding clothes, you feeling slightly more brighter than before and making idle chit-chat with Steve as you do. ‘Well, at least one of us might be happy soon.’ Steve snorts and you frown at him. ‘What?’ You asked confused about what he was talking about, he nods in the direction of Robin who is chatting and laughing with Vickie. You can tell even from over where you’re stood that the nature of their conversation is flirtatious. You feel your heart sink as you watch the two of them. You’d had a small crush on Robin for a while, always watching her from a distance. The only person who knew about this crush or even that you liked girls was Eddie, who had been your best friend for years. He had encouraged you to interact with her but you never had until now. Fighting side by side with her had caused your crush to develop into infatuation and after finding out that she had a crush on Vickie, you felt like you might have a chance, knowing that she liked girls. Of course, you had known that chance was only slim but still, it hurt to see her flirt with someone else, especially as you knew it was the person, she was crushing on. You tore your gaze away from them, turning back to fold the clothes in front of you. You felt jealousy raging through your veins. You couldn’t help it, it was as if all the anger you had been suppressing was coming up at one moment and was being directed at Robin and Vickie. You knew, deep down, that you weren’t really angry with them, that you were grieving the loss of the one person who you could tell everything and it was coming out in anger but it felt much better to pretend you were angry at something small and inconsequential. Something that could be changed rather than something that couldn’t.

Eventually, the three of you headed back to Steve’s house. You all sat down in the living room in complete silence, none of you willing to say anything. You weren’t spending time together to have fun and chat but rather because it felt safer than being alone. Steve stood up at one point, mumbling something about going to make dinner, leaving you and Robin alone to go and make dinner. You were still angry to be completely honest and you were still directing that anger at Robin. You avoided looking at her, feeling like you might blow up at any minute. ‘Are you doing okay?’ Robin asks you, she asked you that every night for the past few days. You still didn’t know what she wanted you to say. Of course, you weren’t okay but today you gave a particularly half-hearted answer, responding more with a noise than actual words. ‘Well, at least we got out, did some good.’ Robin responded, trying to make casual conversation with you. ‘Yeah, I don’t think flirting with Vickie counts as doing any good.’ You shoot back, immediately feeling the anger raging again. You were just so tired of everyone trying to be normal and pretending like life hadn’t completely turned upside down. ‘What does that mean?’ Robin says, a defensive tone in her voice. You turn to face her and see a frown on her face, clearly upset at your words. ‘Come on, everyone could see it a mile off. Flirting with a girl who has a boyfriend? That’s pretty shameless.’ There was anger dripping from every word but you just didn’t care anymore. The floodgates had opened and every emotion you’d been bottling came flooding out in anger at Robin. ‘It’s none of your business who I flirt with. Besides, she and her boyfriend broke up.’ Robin had tears welling in her eyes and it was almost enough to quell your anger but it felt too late to go back. ‘So you want to be a rebound then? Come on, she’s not actually interested in you, she’s just looking for someone to pay attention to her, to fill a hole now that her boyfriend doesn’t want to be with her. You can’t actually be that stupid can you?’ Robin doesn’t respond, instead, she runs out of the room, tears falling down her face. You see her disappear up the stairs and then hear a door slam, assuming she’s headed into the spare room. ‘Well, that was really fucking nice of you.’ You see Steve appearing in the doorway and you just scoff, pushing past him and heading into the other spare room where you’d been sleeping. You slammed the door behind you and the second the door shut, your anger changed completely to sadness. You couldn’t even make it to the bed, collapsing in sobs that you’d held in for the last few days. All you wanted was your best friend back. He would know what to do, he would help you here but he was gone. You were never going to see him again or listen to him play the guitar. You’d even miss the small stuff, like arguing over which girl at school was most attractive. The fact that he was truly gone overwhelmed you and you didn’t know how to keep surviving without him around. You eventually stopped crying, getting up off the floor and heading into the en-suite to clean yourself up. You looked in the mirror and grimaced at your face. You looked like a complete mess. You wiped up all the tears and tried to make yourself look at least a tiny bit better. You felt the guilt enter you over what you had said to Robin. You shouldn’t have taken your anger out on her, you shouldn’t have let jealousy get the better of you. She had been nothing but kind to you in the past few days and you’d thrown that kindness back in her face. This wasn’t what you did. You weren’t the type of person who treated others like this and you felt ashamed of your actions. You hesitated as you stood near the door of the room you were sleeping in. You wanted to go and apologise but you also wanted to give her space. To not bother her after you had been the one to hurt her. You took a deep breath and opened the door, heading out into the corridor and approaching the other spare room. You couldn’t hear any noise from inside but you knocked lightly at the door, hoping she’d been willing to talk. You heard a mumbled ‘come in’ from the other side and you opened the door, seeing Robin lying on the bed, her face red and blotchy. It was clear she had also been crying and you felt even more guilty about what you did. ‘Oh, I thought you were Steve.’ She said, sitting up. It made it worse for you that she didn’t even look angry when she realised it was you. If she yelled and screamed you would understand but the look of sadness on her face made it a million times harder. ‘Can I come in?’ You asked hovering in the doorway, you wanted her to know that it was her choice to talk to you or not. That you weren’t going to push her into talking if she wasn’t ready. She let out a small nod and you stepped into the room, shutting the door lightly behind you. You moved over to the bed and sat at the foot of it, giving her plenty of space away from you. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. You’ve done nothing wrong and I should’ve never reacted the way I did.’ You couldn’t look at her as you apologised, you didn’t want to see the look on her face at your words. ‘I just don’t understand why you would even say that. It was so mean.’ She said in a small voice that broke your heart. To know that you had caused her so much pain made you feel so much worse. ‘I know, I picked the worst things to say and I threw them at you. I’m not going to even make excuses for what I did and I don’t expect you to forgive me but I do really regret it and I didn’t mean any of it.’ You looked up at her, seeing the pain in her eyes. ‘I know it’s hard for you. You lost someone you care about deeply and I can’t imagine all the emotions you’re feeling right now but it doesn’t give you the right to take it out on others, especially those just trying to help you.’ Robin tells you, the look in her eyes changing to one of anger but it quickly dies out, her expression switching back to one of sadness. ‘I know, I’m so sorry. I just don’t know how to cope and I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay when my best friend is dead.’ You cover your mouth as you let out a sob, not wanting to guilt Robin into forgiving you. Robin immediately picks up on your reaction and moves over to wrap her arms around you, pulling you in close and letting you cry into her chest as she comforts you. It makes you feel even worse, the guilt that you could be so mean to someone so kind overwhelming you as for the second time that day you break down in tears. Robin doesn’t let go of you until you stop crying, your loud sobs turning to quiet tears. She pulls away from you as you wipe your eyes clean, not wanting to let go of your tight grip on her shirt but feeling as if you should. You fiddle with your hands as you sit there for a moment, waiting until you feel able to speak again. ‘Thank you for being so kind to me. You’re such a good person. I really truly am sorry for what I said.’ You’re unable to look at her again, your eyes trained on your hands. ‘I just don’t understand why you chose that specifically to target. What about me flirting with Vickie made you so mad?’ You stopped the movement of your hands, trying to figure out what to say in response to that. Do you tell her the truth that you had liked her for years or do you lie and say it was a random reaction? ‘I was jealous.’ You eventually settle on, not fully revealing the truth of what you feel. ‘Jealous of what?’ Robin frowns at you and you sigh deeply. ‘Jealous that Vickie got to flirt with you. I’ve liked you for a while, Robin. And now I’ve got to know you I like you even more. I’m not asking you for a relationship, hell I’m not even in the place where I should be in a relationship right now but I just want you to know the truth.’ You finish speaking and keep looking away from Robin, not wanting to see her reaction. A silence washes over the two of you and neither of you speaks as you sit there, Robin clearly trying to process what you just said. Eventually, Robin reacts, moving in closer to you and wrapping her arms around you. ‘I had no idea. I didn’t even know you liked girls.’ Robin said, running her hand up and down your back in a comforting motion. ‘Yeah, Ed was the only person I’d ever told. He used to tell me that I should go and talk to you but I could never bring myself to.’ You said, your head moving to the rest of your shoulder. ‘You should’ve. I’ve always thought you seemed so cool but I was sort of scared of you too.’ She tells you, making you laugh. ‘I’m really not that scary, well most of the time when I’m not taking my anger out on small things cause I’ve been bottling everything up.’ You admit, still embarrassed by your actions. ‘No, you’re not which is why my feelings for you have sort of grown since I’ve gotten to know you.’ Robin admits. You look up at her with shock in your eyes. Did she really say what you thought she did? ‘You like me? But what about Vickie?’ You ask, wondering if this was really real. ‘I mean yeah I like Vickie but that was more of a pipe dream than anything. I actually know you.’ She tells you. ‘Well, I’m clearly not mentally in the right place to start anything right now but when I am do you think we can revisit this conversation?’ You ask looking up at her. You understand if she isn’t willing to wait but you really hope she will. ‘Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be waiting.’ You light up, wrapping your arms around her in excitement at the prospect of what could happen.

A few months later and things were pretty much normal again Hawkins, well as normal as it could be in a town with an inter-dimensional portal in it. You were obviously still mourning the death of Eddie but the pain was getting less and less every day. You didn’t think you’d ever get over Eddie’s death but you were dealing with it much better. You had decided that because you were in a much better place than you were a few months ago, you were finally ready to have your date with Robin. To be honest, you hadn’t expected her to wait. Not that you didn’t trust her word or anything, it’s just that you had started to feel selfish, asking someone to wait on you while you recovered from the death of your best friend. But to your surprise she had. She had even been asked on a date by Vickie at one point but had turned her down. She hadn’t actually told you this, Steve had. When giving you a lecture on making Robin wait. You knew Steve was trying to be helpful, trying to stop you from leading on his best friend but his constant lectures made it even worse. The guilt he caused you to feel pushed to act before you were ready. As a result, you were pushed deeper into your hole of depression. Steve eventually backed off, realising he wasn’t helping anything. You were incredibly grateful for that and the three of you had basically returned to normal. Which is why you had recruited Steve to help you. You were currently standing in his kitchen, finishing up the final steps of the meal you were making while Steve headed over to Robin’s house to pick her up. He had told her that the three of you were having a movie night in order to get her over, which she had agreed to easily. You finished prepping the meal, putting the starter in the oven and headed upstairs to change your clothes. You quickly changed into a nice outfit, which you had bought specifically for this date, and got ready. Once you were ready you headed back downstairs and set the table before grabbing the starter out of the oven and sitting down at the table with a bouquet of flowers. As you heard Steve’s car pull up you started to feel anxious. You heard the door open and Steve tell Robin to go into the dining room and grab the films. You sat up straight as she walked in, looking confused at the display in front of her. ‘Hey, so I know I said a few months ago I wasn’t ready to date and I wasn’t then but I am now. I’m finally in a good place and I want you to be a part of my life as my girlfriend.’ While you were speaking you stood up, moving closer to Robin who had tears welling in her eyes as you held the flowers out to her. ‘Y/N, I’ve been waiting for you to say that for months.’ She says wrapping her arms around you and laughing. You hugged her back, smiling too. ‘Here, I bought you these.’ You say, holding up the flowers. ‘And I made us a meal, all your favourite, Steve’s going to head out for a couple hours so we’ll have the place to ourselves.’ You say leading her over to the table you had set. You spent the next couple of hours, laughing and joking with Robin. You had an amazing time and it finally felt like everything was right in the world. You couldn’t believe you had waited so long to actually do this. ‘I should probably get going. I have work in the morning.’ Robin sighed, looking at the clock behind you. You were holding her hand over the table and you gave it a little squeeze as she spoke. ‘I can take you home if you want.’ You say, hoping she’ll take you up on the offer, especially since Steve hadn’t come home yet. ‘Oh yeah, that would be great.’ She smiles, standing up, pulling her hand away from yours. ‘Great, let’s get going.’ You say, standing up. As you stand up you look directly into Robin’s eyes and your breath hitched. You knew her eyes were beautiful but up close they were absolutely radiant. You were pretty sure you could spend the rest of your life staring into them. You feel her hand lightly brush over yours and you move your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. You move your other hand up to cup her cheek and started to lean in. Robin’s eyes fluttered closed and you closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips against hers softly. You smiled into the kiss as your lips fitted perfectly together. You couldn’t believe you had waited this long to do this. It was the most addicting thing in the world and you didn’t think you’d ever get enough of it. You pulled away from her and laughed slightly. ‘Wow.’ She mumbled, a dazed look in her eyes. ‘Yeah.’ You smile, moving slightly to kiss her on the nose. ‘I don’t think I ever want to stop doing that.’ She says her hand that wasn’t holding yours pressed against your waist. ‘Neither do I. But we should probably get you home and on the way back we can talk about what we're going to do for our second date?’ You ask looking at her hopefully. She lets out a nod and you press a kiss against her lips again, glad to finally be able to feel her soft kiss.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - November 19

Hey, y’all! Here’s what I read this week. I’m exhausted, and excited--my best friend is coming to see me!!!--so I don’t have anything to add this week. I won’t be able to do next week’s list because I’ll be traveling, so I’m gonna put up some of my favorites or maybe a trope list? Anyone got a trope y’all want me to do a list for? 

Any--comment and kudos for your authors, friends! 

~*~ 

pass through life at my side by silkspectred

Tony’s birthday feels like a new beginning in so many ways. Steve is back from his worst nightmare, Tony is back from his coma. They’re rebuilding the team.

It feels good to be back.

they move on tracks of never-ending light by silkspectred

In an alternative future created by a time-traveling Peter Parker, Tony Stark has been dead for a year. Steve can’t let him go.

this will destroy you by silkspectred

The screen flashes in front of his eyes. It takes him entire seconds to realize that it’s an incoming call.

shelter from the storm by silkspectred 

Tony adopts a baby. Guess who's Majorly Fucked Up™ about it.

Slut Era by BladeoftheNebula

Tony never meant to become the campus bicycle but since that was apparently what was expected of him he figured it was easier just to lean into it.

He just never expected Steve Rogers would ever want to take a ride.

submerge me in your will by captainstars 

“Hey,” Tony says. Steve’s heart thunders in his chest, his hands twitch by his side and he folds them under his chest to keep them from doing something stupid. They just look at each other for a moment. Tony registers the signs of age around Steve’s eyes, the glimpses of silver in the pale blonde of Steve’s hair. Steve takes in the pinked scar curving around Tony’s eye and jaw, and his prosthetic arm.

Steve feels like he’s a second away from breaking apart after months of clinging onto the pieces of himself. “Hey,” he replies, instead of all the other things he wants to say.

Marks On Your Skin by Becci_chan

Steve still wondered what Natasha was trying to achieve by making him confess his feelings for Tony. She was right, of course she was. It didn’t mean Steve wanted to admit it in front of her. Or in a place where Tony could come in any time. He had almost heard him say he wasn’t in love with him. Steve wasn’t sure which would have been worse.

Not One of Blood by RurouniHime

It’s just another Sunday, until it isn’t, and Tony’s own life becomes the very last thing he’s concerned about.

A Wish Your Heart Makes by Carsonian

The absolute last thing Steve's expecting is Tony Stark, and so it's fairly in character for the man to be standing on the other side of the door.

"Hi." Tony looks impatient, greeting barely out before he's walking past Steve and into the apartment. 

The First Time I Went Dancing Sober by schemingreader 

Steve Rogers is a great physical therapist who works with sick kids. Tony Stark is a damaged biotech engineering genius who really wants to be one of the good guys.

Inevitable by Naxa1818

After Tony lost a bet to Steve he has to go through a week of basic training. If only he hadn't just had a revelation about the super soldier. It was going to be a long week.

On the Road We Find the Journey Home by navaan 

In the Aftermath of Secret Empire, Steve goes on his Road Trip to find out who Captain America can be after Hyda!Cap put fear into the hearts' of the people who used to cheer for him. His thoughts trail back to Tony.

Side Effects by elimymoons

"So what I'd like to propose," Tony continued on, "is for you to let me help you out a little, yeah? We'll work off some of this energy, some of this adrenaline, and you don't have to worry about hurting yourself anymore, okay?"

Steve's in a bit of trouble. Tony wants to help him out. Sexily.

Out of Order by archwrites (Arch) 

Look, Steve wants to like Tony, but the man is impossible. Frankly, Steve's kind of a mess, too. Hatesex, pining, some angst, a little fluff, friendship, more sex, and even a little plot (a very little). But not in that order.

[distantwoomi]

Runaway!Dreamtale

This AU variant was made by @mcnotok or @runaway-dreamtale

Original Dreamtale was made by @/jokublog

I do not own the characters, just the writing. Please do not claim my work as yours.

Dearest Dream,

I apologize for þe message. I want you to know þat I love you. We will always be bounded. Togeþer forever. Life is just a river wiþ a very strong current, you know I can't swim. I feel like I'm drowning, constantly, I don't know how to stop it. I want everyþing to stop, figuratively and literally. I wish þe world worked in my favor. þey favor you! You can have a perfect life, I want you to have þat with no obstacles. I know I can be a burden. I want to ease your stress, relieve all þe weight from your shoulders, hold your hand throughout all your struggles, rest your head on my shoulders and wipe you tears away. All of þis sounds so farfetched, mainly because it is. I know þat we have no chance grabbing þat paradise.

I guess þis is goodbye, I hope we meet in anoþer life. I sign þis wiþ all my love.

Yours eternally, Nightmare ☆

That was all they left. One small, disoriented, letter. Dream trembled staring at the note, their hands instinctively squeezing shut. Their jaw clamped shut, they had no words. Everything was a whirlwind, the world around them crumbled. Their world was now gone, their sibling was gone.

Loud, rampant, knocks on the wooden door disturbed Niel's sleep. It was late at night, who would be awake? Niel groaned and sluggishly stepped towards his front door.

"Who would be up at this hour..?" Niel grumbled as he opened the door. The wooden door opened with a screeching creak. Niel stared. He was at a loss for words. What else would you be once there's a sobbing, shaking kid on your doorstep?

"...Kid?..." Niel looked Dream up and down, "What happened...?"

Dream babbled, it was hard to articulate the situation in words. Niel tried everything to calm them down, breathing exercises, drinks, everything. Dream's quivering hands held out the paper to Niel. He accepted it reading every syllable.

Niel shook reading the letter. This really happened, their found family lost a member. Niel immediately assumed it was a suicide note. His tears fell, glistening the paper. It felt like his soul was torn out and shatteted. Possibly even worse.

Nightmare ran. They didn't know where. They didn't know for how long. They just ran. Ran until everything disappeared. Ran until they couldn't. Ran until their drea-

Dream...

Nightmare stopped in their tracks staring at a soft glow of colorful lights resting over a small village. They seemed to be having a celebration? Maybe they could shelter Nightmare.

Nightmare walked for the remainder of the trail and stepped into a, very humble, village. They looked around, there was a ceremony going on? Or was it a ball?

"You're just in time! There's only a few minutes before the orbit begins!"

Nightmare turned to acknowledge the unknown voice. He was met with an owl monster.

"Oh! I must have mistaken you for someone, my apologies!" She seemed squeamish.

"It is no issue ma'am—"Nightmare gave her a small bow—"I do have a question though."

"And I may have an answer!" She squaked, quite literally.

Nightmare internally smiled, "What is all of this for?" They waved their hand around them pointing out the obvious elephant in the room.

"It is the moon ball! We have one e'ry full orbit!"

Nightmare nodded, "For New Year's, correct?"

"Practically! Hopefully you enjoy the celebration, the leader is goin' to speak soon."

Of course they had a leader here, one less job for Nightmare.

"I can't wait."

Nightmare sat in a library. It was owned by Ms. Holiday Wormwood, the owl monster who they had met. She let them rest in there and they would read day and night.

Nightmare sat checking out a book. They heard a crash followed by a thud. They immediately dropped the book and checked out the issues, clutching their sword tightly.

They walked to the room where the noise came from and saw nothing. They were skeptical. Nightmare turned to walk out and alert Ms. Holiday but they noticed shifting in the corner of their eye. A dagger flew across the room landing in the wall, slightly grazing Nightmare's face. Small drips of purple blood fell from their face as they turned.

They were met with two skeleton monsters, one extremely larger than the other. The large one had a large crack in his skull while the smaller one wore a hood and shawl. After quick thinking Nightmare drew their sword.

"State your name and purpose..." Nightmare spoke.

The hooded one stared, "And why?" His voice was chilling and low, naturally ending with a purr.

"I do not desire a fight nor desire hurting you. Name and purpose."

"Dust, just checking the place out..."

Nightmare turned their sword to the larger monster.

"The big guy's Horror. He don' talk." Nightmare nodded and held their sword at their side.

And with the worst timing Ms. Holiday walked in. A loud hoot filled every corner of the room. Horror instinctively stepped in front of Dust to protect the former.

"Calm Ms. Wormwood. They are just checking out the place."

"That's...great, Moonlight..." Sweat gathered on her brow, "Don't you boys go makin' messes of the place." The three nodded in cacophony.

Dust has made himself comfy in Horror's sweater, Horror had his arm wrapped around Dust. It got quite cold in the night and the heater had stopped working. Nightmare shivered white sitting by himself, weary of their new roomies.

"There's room for ya if ya wanna stop bein' a priss..." Dust had insisted the line several times, Horror always responded with a nod.

"I apologize for not trusting people who broke into the library, barely talk about themselves, and who I've barely known. We met three weeks ago, you're lucky Ms. Wormwood is compassionate..." Nightmare mumbled the last part.

Dust grumbled, "Don' pick a fight wit' me kid."

Horror defensively placed his hands in the air, it was his non-verbal signage of wariness.

"Ya really lucky I like the big guy." Dust simmered and leaned back into Horror. Horror gestured for Nightmare to join them but Nightmare continued to decline.

Hour three, so damn cold. Nightmare shivered. Maybe caving into their temptations wasn't so bad. They scooted towards the now sleeping duo of Horror and Dust. Nightmare leaned into Horror's lonesome side and rested their head in his arm.

"So you aren't dumb?" Dust had awoken a few seconds earlier.

Nightmare jolted, "When did you wake?" Their embarrassment was faint in their voice.

"I'm very alert, ya doin' aight? Ain't lookin' too hot." Dust stated.

"I'm fine, just startled." Nightmare's nod was squeamish.

Dust returned a nod and nestled back in Horror's sweater. Nightmare copies feeling Horror tense. Horror pulled the two others close to him, it calmed him.

Dust's eyes shut, "I care about ya too big guy..."

It has been weeks, still no answers... These outsiders made themselves at home..? How does that work. It all confused him. They were accepted after all the things they've done. They weren't from here, why should they resign here?

With a glitched sigh the intruder lurked back into the shadows of the surrounding forest. It confused him to even think. He hopped into a tree and made it to his makeshift hammock. It was made of blue threads and seemed stable, on the hammock rested a photo of four people. The glitch, two other skeleton monsters, and a human with pink hair. On the photo was a note, written in red ink.

'Miss you!'

[lollytea]

well lolly , since theres only six days left can we get some super wrong or super right predictions from you?

I'm a little late (4 days now!!) Anyways I'm not good at predictions. Here's some silly little wishes instead. I know I'm not getting any of this but I can dream. (Most of these copy n pasted directly from discord.)

- Gus casting a huge terrifying illusion around everything as he gives Belos one long "reason you need to repent for your sins" speech. He walks towards him, shifting into all the people he's hurt over the centuries. Then he turns into Evelyn, then Caleb. I want Gus to be Belos' worst nightmare basically.

- I've seen takes that Gus being the key against Belos and all the grimwalker lore wouldn't fit and has nothing to do with his arc and it shouldn't be his responsibility. But like

Gus has spent his whole life being deceived for being trusting and gullible. Gus going up against a man who has built his life on lies and deception. Oh it would fuck. And all the similarities between Gus and the Collector. Like this part of the story is practically tailored for Gus to slip into. If you know how to write it. And I just hope they know how to write it

Ohhhhh I know Gus already loathes Belos as much as anybody but ohhhhh. He learns the Collector lore and then turns to Belos, eyes glowing like "You lied to him. You said you were his friend but you lied to him."

- I'm not an Amity Blight expert so I'm probably far off. But I've been thinking about it. I'm wondering if maybe her puppetification is JUST her, rather than it being all of the kids. And maybe Odalia is directly responsible.

And considering Amity is overdue for her ✨️Moment✨️ I'm wondering if this might be it. There's a running theme in the owl house when it comes to puppets and puppet masters, and this is directly linked to the characters who suffered abuse and manipulation at the hands of their parental figures.

Hunter got his puppet moment in TTT. Maybe Amity gets something similar in WAD. I know she's HAD her big important moment of establishing her autonomy in EE and then again in COTH. But maybe its one final nod to it. I also find it interesting that in spite of being puppetfied her hand is moving. Like to symbolise this defiance and stubbornness to comply with what Odalia has demanded of her ever since EE

- I've been mostly thinking about the potential scenario of Belos!Luz and GG!Hunter from Luz's POV. Cuz idek if we're getting the actual Hunter or a dream version of Hunter.

But like. It's FUCKED. Because Belos was Hunter's blood relation. He was his family. A terrible twisted version of a family but the only kind Hunter knew.

And then came Luz, who reinvented the meaning of family for him. She confided in him, she trusted him, she loved him. She made that boy her family because she adored him.

So THIS is deranged. Its warping the relationship they've built together into this depraved disturbing thing. The merger of these two family dynamics into one sickening thing. Like Luz was his shelter. But now she's become the exact thing he was running from.

Having Hunter look at her with blatant fear, shrinking himself so he stands beneath her, the horrible emotions that must make her feel. Oh I HATE THIS!!!

And even getting this miniscule comfort of Hunter ripped away from her. Like he was her PERSON. The only one who was aware of the horrible things she's done and she doesn't feel judged by, for several months. Like if all else failed, at least Hunter didn't hate her.

And now THIS scenario which is like "maybe....maybe he should be the one to hate you the most."

- Want a scene where Willow and Hunter gotta split up and there's some kind of antagonist pursuing them. They've only got a moment of peace before it reaches them. And Willow's like "You go ahead. I'll hold them off." (Like she did in LR) and Hunter doesn't want to leave her. But the circumstances are dire and he knows he has to and he KNOWS she'll keep herself alive. But he still worries. So they promise each other that they'll stay safe and Willow turns her back to him after that, preparing herself for a fight and expecting him to hurry off now. But he doesn't. He lingers there for an extra moment, wanting to tell her something but unable to put it into words. Then he zaps himself to her side, hastily smooches her cheek and zaps away before she can recover from her shock.

And then Willow is just. Left there. Stunned. Staring blankly at the space where he once was. And then a smile cracks her mouth wide open. Whatever she's fighting catches up to her and Willow can only cackle giddily, her engine all revved up, and she's all like LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO

Willow gets one teeny tiny little smooch by Hunter and it makes her go all "I AM POWERFUL AND I WILL NEVER DIE!!!!!!!"

- Actually overall I believe in a Willow and Hunter comic relief. I think Gus and Amity are both having special spotlight in this episode. And Luz will finally reunite with Eda and King. And idk WHERE the fuck Camila is (smooching puppet Darius or smth). But ya Willow and Hunter are gonn be so cringe.

- Evelyn Clawthorne voice reveal and Irish accent.

- Belos dies an excruciatingly painful death

- Hunter Noceda

- If there is not a big dramatic scene dedicated to Willow and Gus reuniting with their dads I am fucking killing somebody.