#and forever will be stuck in a limbo thinking what they did to deserve this

[starp00k]

Envy

[turbulentscrawl]

BUNS HEAR ME OUT.

Top 5 most protective survivors with the ‘who did this to you’ trope.

Let’s just say their S/O gets injured maybe in a match and it’s evident by the damage of the body that it’s definitely not accidental as they claim. So we get a “who did this?”

Maybe this could be a HC for you to do one day lol

Oh this one is quick and easy! I did go back and forth on the exact order here, but these are my top 5s. There is some overlap with the one I just did, but for the sake of changing it up a bit we’ll say that in this case your injuries are obviously also not from a Hunter.

Ganji is at the top because I think he’d be the most emotionally reactive to this specific situation. He’s not as severe as Naib in his revenge, but survivors hurting survivors is a big deal. Like, you’re all stuck here, in limbo, suffering, and some bitch thinks they’re going to start turning it into a free-for-all, too? Fuck no. He feels bad about it later, but he is a little aggressive while trying to get you to admit who did it. He’ll soften a bit if it was a genuine accident, but he still thinks everyone’s been here too long for simple carelessness to be an excuse. If it wasn’t an accident? There are unspoken rules here, and if the manor isn’t going to enforce them, Ganji sure as fuck will.

Naib still has to have a place here, but he’s a smidge lower because his anger is more controlled and calculating. His protective urges in general are pretty off-the-charts and, while he can’t do much about a Hunter hurting you in a game since that’s kinda the point, he can do something about a fellow survivor. He won’t press you too hard while you’re recovering, but frankly it doesn’t matter if you won’t tell him how it happened or who did it. He’s spent years of his life digging up information about targets and this is no different. If anything, it’s easier because he knows the culprit was someone else in the match with you.

Patricia comes after Naib and Ganji because her emotions lean towards desperation more than anger or bitterness. She’s been itching for someone deserving to lay her blood curse on, and this is the perfect opportunity. Someone who was supposed to be an ally has hurt her love? That’s rotten. That’s sinful. She won’t leave you be until you spill who did it. She’s gentle, of course, but every waking moment she spends with you during recovery is spent asking or subtly coaxing you to admit what happened. She’ll give up on asking after several days, but will forever be watching to see if your interactions with the others change. If she suspects anyone in particular, they’re gonna have a little chat.

Andrew can’t see what reason a fellow survivor would have to hurt you, but then he really can’t see reason at all when he’s so angry. He’s not nearly as likely as the others to go out of his way for revenge after-the fact, and he’s not intuitive enough to find out who did it if you won’t tell him…but FUCK he’s mad. Andrew just spends the next few days stewing in anger, tense, sucking his teeth, and cursing randomly in quiet moments. If you or someone else from your match tells him who did it, he makes it clear that he isn’t doing shit for them going forward. Oh, what’s that, they got chaired? Downed? Well, guess they’re fucked. He’d rather take the match loss than save their sorry ass.

Orpheus’s exact reaction is going to depend a bit on when you catch him with all of this. Getting hurt in the matches is normal and frankly he’s a bit numbed to it in most circumstances. But this isn’t a normal match wound, is it, dear? Some of his personalities are more reactive than others, and all of them are quite good at digging. He was a detective, after all. In short, he would appreciate it if you told him who hurt you…but even if you won’t snitch, rest assured he will find out. Whatever happens after that depends on which personality is in charge at the time.

[jeanmoreaux]

atlas complex anon logging on for the last time

i finished it like two days ago and i have been trying to process it and i truly just….don’t know what to do with it 😵‍💫

the other death was SO PAINFUL ACTUALLY and i am choosing to believe it didn’t happen (bc objectively it didn’t! if you think about it!!! *eye twitch*) — bc why would you write such a lovely passage A LOVE CONFESSION IF YOU WILL and then fucking MURDER HIM…AND THEN YOU DONT EVEN TELL US PLAINLY WHAT HAPPENED (again, i choose to believe he lives on, mr security camera man)

tbh both of those deaths confessed their love and then she was like “that’s nice please drop dead xoxo”

(me trying to be vague about spoilers but also who fuckin cares nobody is reading this book)

anyway here’s the deal. i think it was all bad writing but i got so lost in the sauce in the last 15% that i could convince myself that i Appreciate the Ending?? like sorry i just am stuck on IN EVERY CULTURE THERE IS BREAD…but also what the hell even happened in this book and why was it even more convoluted than it needed to be

need olivie blake to pay for my therapy

so excited to hear from you!!! yeah, that second death. OOF. literally hated it. and right after that wendy cope esque love confession SOBBING FR. he has been my bestie from day one and he will remain so forever. i love him!! and it wasn’t that his death didn’t hit me, but it hit me because i Did Not Want Him To Die and not because the death was written well and executed well narratively speaking. ngl i read it and was like. this is so stupid. why like this?? after all the build up why at all but WHY LIKE THIS. also yeah the crumbs with the scenarios and security camera make for a range of possibilities of what *actually* happened but i have to say it felt a little cheap to me. like blake could not decide one way or the other and instead just kept all the options open which felt very unsatisfying to me. the entire thing is similar to what blake did with gideon’s last pov chapter (and both together exemplify my issue with the ending): keeping options open and lines blurry so that you can headcanon you own way out of the mess she made. which is not the great move she might think it is because instead of writing a scenes where she can actually evokes emotions because she commits to a thing completely and unequivocally it’s all so vague that the reader is never made to fully grapple with one outcome or the other. you’re left in limbo and that’s why you feel so disconnected from everything happening (at least that’s how it was for me). i love open endings but what she did wasn’t an open ending (given that it’s the last 30% of the book lmao) but a lack of narrative commitment.

i am so glad you appreciate the ending!! wish that were me!!!! i would so love to mske my peace with it but i Can’t. these characters deserve better. i read the last two chapters and just thought ‘that was it? wow. i feel absolutely nothing. what a shame.’ tho i agree the bread line being a banger. it is Very good. and that’s the thing there are some good parts and lovely sentences and sentiments (the love confession you mentioned might be one of my favourite passages of the entire series!!) but as a whole tac simply did not deliver in a way that makes the last chapter or the ending in general hit for me. idk it’s nicely written but the emotional impact is minimal because the narration did nothing to build up to it in a meaningful and nuanced way???? like i get it and i understand it and i like it out of context but it has no impact IN context because the story preceding it doesn’t warrant it. or maybe i am just too bitter to see it lol. veryyy real possibility.

also you are so right what even happened in this book??? sooooo convoluted. instead of paying for my therapy i want blake to rewrite the book istg like pls i am begging on my knees.

((also this answer is veryyyy vaguely worded too. but i am sure you Get It.))

[your-local-confused-soul]

Hello if you are taking requests I loved your "It was never meant to be" imagine I love your writing style too. So I was gonna ask if you could do a part two where will and the reader are revived and the reader is just as evil as wilbur and dream (I'm a sucker for villain readers ok? Don't come at me pls-)

Hello, did you miss me?

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┊‧୨୧‧  Sbi x reader + the bench Trio [ Mainly the pov of Tommy]

┊‧୨୧‧  Angst

┊‧୨୧‧  Platonic

┊‧୨୧‧  pronouns of (y/n) - They/them

┊‧୨୧ TW - Mentions of death, graphic descriptions and thoughts of violence , character deaths

┊‧୨୧ some stuff - (y/n) is the reader (aka you) and (h/c) is their hair colour (aka your hair colour)

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‘:: Authors note ⇐Hello there! Thanks for the compliment (*>∇<)ﾉ !! Sorry for the late post, I absolutely love the idea! But I would be changing some stuff as of the reader is just as evil as Wilbur but not as much as dream. I am also not caught up with the streams so I changed some stuff. I hope you like it!! (≡^∇^≡) ‚

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It has been years since the destruction of L'manburg, years since the the death of the founder of the nation, years since the death of (y/n) . A lot has changed since then. The once L'manburg who stood proudly at its place after the incident again shattered to the ground but this time, it was permanent. The Dream who is the founder of the Dreamsmp , is now in prison for torture of minors , stealing many valuables and holding them as hostage . This is what the residents were being told on the news. While this is partly true, there are much worse things Dream has done. His original sentance was death by the hands of the victims who he had tortured, by the hands of Tommy as well deserved it was, bringing justice to the poor child, it was reduced to being in prison till death. Why? You may ask . It was for if Dream dies, then death will be permanent, no ghost of residents would anymore wander around the smp, if someone dies, they'll stay in afterlife, forever stuck in their own little limbo. Tommy didn't want that to happen, as much as he now hates Wilbur's tactics, he still missed his brother, he also liked Ghostbur's company, who was a much better company than Wilbur in Pogtopia. Hence decided to lock up dream for good. But with the recent visit to dream, Tommy now thinks other wise. Dream is now more of a menance to society than he ever already was. A more of a threat to Tommy. That sick bastard beat Tommy to death and then revived him. Three months in afterlife. Three months in that dark void. Three months in that dark, tight spaced, suffocating void . God knows if Tommy had spend and minute more with Dream in that prison what would've happened.

Tommy now stood in front of the prison, the place where he last died, the place where he was again revived. He stood there with Ghostbur and (y/n) , who was in his usual cheery self . Both had agreed to help Tommy in his plan. (Y/n) was more worried about Tommy after what had happened recently so they tagged along with the two. Before entering the prison, Tommy splashed a small bottle of invisibility potion on himself and (y/n) in order to not be seen and made sure that any weapons or other stuff weren't visible to naked eye. And with that the trio made their way inside the prison

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The process was going perfectly fine with Sam having no idea that there were two more uninvited guests who had different plans. The trio with Sam were now standing in front of the lava path, waiting for the lava to clear out enough for the visitors to be able to go through. Most of the lava was gone and there now stood the flying machine, ready to escort them to the prisoner, the founder of this prison himself, Dream. The trio stood on the flying machine, which was slowly taking them closer to Dream. Tommy's heart pounded, he was an inch close to killing Dream for good, he cannot mess this up, he has to stay still untill the lava blocked the view for other so that they don't notice him. There were to many factors that can fuck up, like the invisibility potion, but that would be rare, Tommy had made sure to eat some gapples so that the potion stays on longer he also made sure to splash on himself a potion of regeneration for just in case the plan fails and he gets killled instead. The Trio was now standing on the edge of the cell, Dream was now on the other side of the netherite block, just a block away from Tommy's sharp axe.

"STOP! "

Tommy was startled by the sudden shouting he turned around to the see the person who was shouting at them.

"STOPSTOPSTOP MOVING RIGHT NOW " Sam shouted, taking a trident out of his inventory .

"Who is that on your left Ghostbur?! " Sam sternly said.

Why was Sam all of a sudden telling Ghostbur to stop, did he notice something — Oh.

Tommy had taken his axe out too early.

There is no return now. And with that Tommy with full force, ran towards the netherite block and tried to lunged towards Dream . But his attempt failed, Dream had , in time ran towrds a corner of the cell. He was now far to reach.

Anger fueled inside of Tommy with all force he could still tried to hit Dream and screamed

" GET BACK HERE YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! "

Dream just stood there at the corner, stood there with a smile , a taunting one. God how much it made his blood boil, if only he could stab that man countless times , chop his body into peices and then leave them in exile, the place where Tommy was tortured and manipulated for months, for the rats to eat . Tommy gritted his teeth as he swinged his axe some more

He was more frustrated than angry, all that effort, all that months of prior of planning all gone to waste, all because of a silly little mess up.

"Get back here before I kill you " San ordered, now tightly gripping his trident, ready to take action if his order was not followed.

Tommy stood there for a moment before finally giving up and returning to Sam on his was, he mumbled a small "Fuck you" to Sam.

Sam then handed a glass of milk , which Tommy drank , causing the potion effect to wear off and he was now visible to Sam and others.

"TOMMY?!! " Sam exclaimed.

"WHAT!? " Tommy hissed

The two argued back and forth, Dream sometimes joining in to say a word or two. The argument and the heated atmosphere was very distressing to the two ghosts, Ghostbur backed away till his back was now against the Netherite blocks, ge curled into a small ball with his hands on his ears, wanting the screaming to stop, meanwhile (y/n) was also scared and wanted to levitate to the other side and stop the argument but was scared of the lava . They just stood there as they watched the chaos of an argument unfold on the other side .

"WAIT (Y/N) IS THERE TOO!?? " Sam exclaimed , surprised that there was another one of uncalled guests . How did he know that they were there, (y/n) thought yo themselves . Uh oh (y/n)'s invisibility potion weared off.

"THIS IS THE REASON I DON'T LET YOU IN PRISON NOW GHOSTBUR AND (Y/N) IS STUCK OVER THERE"

"YA AND I'LL REVIEVE BOTH OF THEM IF YOU DON'T LET ME FREE" Dream finally shouted from the other side, seeing an opportunity to be freed from this hell of a prison.

Silence fell upon all of them .

The silence was agai soon replace by panic from both sides .

Both Ghosts now started to panic. None of them wanted to die to have their once alive self be back from death .

"To- TOMMYTOMMY YOU SAID IT WILL BE OKAY!! " Ghostbur was the one who broke the silence between the two.

"NONONONO KILL HIM SAM!!!! " Tommy also started to panic, now shouting at Sam to kill that bastard before he kills his loved ones.

The two again started to agrue, now blaming each other .

Dream was getting bored of their screaming matches so he soon grabbed (y/n) by the hair and pulled them towards him as close as he could get them.

(Y/n) screamed in pain, trying to free from Dreams grasp, on the other side, both Sam and Tommy started to panic but Sam refused to let Dream out.

Tommy now begged Sam to go get the two back before it's too late, but it was already late. Right before his eyes, he saw Dream snap (y/n)'s neck and they faded to dust. This cause more painc between the three.

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There was another screaming math between Tommy and Sam, Sam still refusing to get Ghostbur back .

Dream again, shot his last warning

"Listen IF YOU DON'T LET ME OUT I'M GONNA REVIVE HIM "

Another moment of silent and again Tommy begging Sam to get Ghostbur out of there but Sam adamant on his decision. On the other hand, Ghostbur's panic ensues.

"TOMMY YOU SAID IT WAS GOING TO BE OKAY" Ghostbur sobbed, his hands now trembling, his eyes , glistening with tears, the tears transformed into smoke as they fell on his pale white skin, which caused more harm and pain to Ghostbur, and this forming more tears. He just wanted this to be over with , he didn't wish to die, all he wanted at this moment was to hug and cuddle friend.

"GHOSTBUR GHOSTBUR " TOMMY yelled from the other side, to get the attention of the ghost as soon as Ghostbur turned to face the blonds, Tommy facial features softened. He then softly but loud enough for the Ghost to hear, he said ,

" Count with me, Count with me "

"1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 "

"1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10"

Both of them counted and with that, Dream with all force he could, smashed a corner of the revival book at the back of the neck of Ghostbur's , causing Ghostbur to also fade into dust.

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"What did you do. "

Ranboo sternly said as they ran along side Tommy with Tubbo. Tommy was now sprinting over the glass case that covered the big crater. He had no time to speak, only mumbling the words "They're back " repeatedly. Both the beeduo did not understand what the case was, but they did somewhat have an idea that the mission had gone terribly wrong. The question 'who is back?' still remained within them and guess they would figure it out when they reach the place Tommy was going to.

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After some minutes of sprinting, they were finally there, in the middle of stone ruins, there laid a small stage, that stage was for when Ghostbur had decided that alivebur should come back to life, but it wasn't successful. That was an year ago and minds had changed since then. It was now Dawn. Tommy was now furiously searching around the area for something or someone . The duo just stood there, confused. Then, Ranboo pointed straight and questioned

" Wait, who is that? "

The clingyduo look at the direction the half enderman half ghast hybrid was pointing at and saw two figures at distance. Tommy's eyes widened at the scene, could it be them? Tommy slowly walked at the direction of the figures, nervously saying

" Wilbur? Y- (y/n)? "

The figures seemed to have heard him and looked at his direction, Tommy was now close enough for the three of them to somewhat clearly see each other's faces. It was infact (y/n) and Wilbur. Both of them seemed to have aged and now have a white stripe, similar to Tommy's who had gotten it after he was revived. The only difference was that (y/n) hair has a handful of white stripes spread all throughout their (h/c) colored hair while Wilbur and Tommy had one. The two newly revived siblings look at Tommy with a big toothy grin, though both of their emotions were different. (Y/n) smile was more of an happy and endearing smile while Wilbur's was more of a insane grin with a hint of endearment. Both said at once

" Hello, Did you miss me? "

" Awww Tommy hello, I'm back! "

"oh no... " Tommy wispered

"Hello again" Wilbur again spoke, while (y/n) gave a confused look back to Tommy.

The two of them felt numb but quite shocked and surprised.

" W- what happened, why are we here? " (Y/n) asked, their voice hoarse , not quite sure why, was it the previous last screaming as a ghost or was it that they were alive after years of being dead.

"You're in L'manburg" Tommy said, not quite pleased to have Wilbur revived . The two's eyes perked up and they quickly turned and wandered to take of look of their surroundings, then they saw the large crater which has replaced L'manburg. Both of them hissed at the sight in front of them. Wilbur looked back, surprised

" Wait, di— did I do this? " He spoke, his tone filled with shock. (Y/n) just looked at the crater with amusement, they had definitely missed a lot back when they were dead. The trio were now stepping on the glass, Wilbur exploring and kept looking at the crater, getting more amused second by second. (Y/n) wandered on their own, observing the crater, still very amused and amazed at the sight. Tommy just kept following Wilbur.

" Holy crap, we did a lot here (y/n)?! " Wilbur said as he looked at the direction of (y/n), excitement was filled in his voice? But this wasn't the time to know if his voice was filled with excitement or anger, what the fuck he meant by we and (y/n).

(Y/n) from a distance kept their eyes at the crater, thier lips forming a satisfied grin as they said back "yes Wil, we did do quite some damage here"

"You didn't do it , it was Dream and Technoblade" Tommy mumbled and of course it fell upon deaf ears.

"What the fuck do you mean by (y/n) !? " Tommy said , obviously shocked at the statement.

"Oh did you not— of course you didn't know, well Tommy, (y/n) was also a part in blowing up L'manburg "

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY WERE TEAMED WITH YOU TO BLOW UP L'MANBURG!?? " Tommy exclaimed, completely shocked by the news.

" Yes, Toms, I was a part of the plan, how do you think Wilbur, a one person can place so many stacks of tnt undereath the entirety of L'manburg over a span of few days " (Y/n) chimed in, as they walked beside Tommy and sat on top of a stone ruin, as they saw Tommy's reaction with amusement. Before continuing

" But it wasn't the part of the plan for me to die, I had originally planned to move in with Techno and Dadza after that , guess it was kinda my fault too to stand at the place of destruction.

The clingy duo were very much taken aback by this statement, what the hell did they just hear, THE (Y/n)? A kind soul that could never hurt a fly unless provoked. A traitor? Meanwhile , Wilbur now jumped in joy, the realization that he was alive finally hit him while (y/n) stayed calm, in the moment, they quite liked the genlte breeze hitting their skin. Wilvur then climed on top of a stone ruined to see the first sun rise after 13 years, both the revived duo were completely mesmerized by the moment, Wilbur express more excitement than (y/n), but (y/n) was equally very excited.

" This is MY sun rise! " Wilbur exclaimed, mesmerized by the moment while (y/n) giggled and said

" Oi dickhead this isn't only yours, share some with me "

Wilbur looked back, grinning , and he ruffled (y/n)'s hair .

While the two revived siblings were having their moment. At a distance, the clingy duo looked at them, shocked and were feeling very uneasy .

Oh the fun has just now started.

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‘:: Authors note ⇐ Hello again! I hope you liked it, it is not the best and I feel like I dragged it very much. Remember to drink some water, eat some snacks, relax and try to have a good sleep schedule, it's important and good for you and your body . Bu-bye~!! ‚

Author over and out

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[caimeozramblings]

Seph lorebit #1,,

I DONT HAVE A CLEVER NAME FOR THIS :PENSIVE: mayhaps I shall think of one soon!!

Anyhow, @starrynightnight I think you said a bit back that you would want to be tagged in a post like this??

Content Warnings: Light description of gore, Character death

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As Seph opened her eyes, she noticed the snow surrounding her. She'd heard of this place. Treachery. Where only the most vile of souls came, ones who had betrayed their fellow man. The cold pricked her skin as she looked around aimlessly. She knew she wouldn't be able to leave. 

   As she shakily stood up it suddenly occurred to her just how cold this place was. It was just snow, snow, snow, for miles. Maybe the occasional structure that looked as if it hadn't been touched in aeons, or someone encased in ice. 

   At the very least she wasn't stuck in ice, she'd think to herself. But at the same time, those who were; seemed to be used to it by now. Just thinking about it forced her body to subconsciously start rubbing its arms to generate heat. 

   Angels never had been made with the idea of the cold in mind, had they? Everywhere else was so warm, even the hottest of places seemed pleasant. But in the wake of cold it burned and pricked at Seph's skin. It.. hurt. It hurt alot. Even if she didn't want to think too hard about it, she hated how the cold felt on her skin. It clung to her like a lost child and no matter how she tried, it did not fade.

   She pulled her cloak closer to her body to hide most of it from the painful cold of Treachery. Had she truly deserved to be sent here? Had she truly deserved the fate she got from simply trying to speak against the Council's words? Had she truly deserved to have the Father's light held above her head, and ultimately taken?

   No.

   No she had not. The Council were just dictators who just assumed control over Heaven, and for what reason? Because they deserved it? Which mind you, they did NOT. They didn't deserve anything. If she had Venust with her at that time, she would've done something that would get her a worse fate, she knew. But it would be worth it to her.

   …

   But what did everyone else in Heaven think of her now? What did they think of her "betrayal" of her people? What did her close friends think of her? What did acquaintances think?

   The dread of her situation now wormed its way into her skull, drilling until it was all she could think about. She was going to die. She was going to die alone, surrounded by snow, all of her loved ones thinking of her as a traitor. And no one, not a soul would think kindly of her. She knew she couldn't have anyone to comfort her, because nobody would think of it, no one thought of her fondly.

   But there had to be at least one person who thought of her fondly! At least.. one person had to have kind thoughts of her. Perhaps the souls in Limbo who were unaware of her fate? Of her disappearance? She hoped that one of them would remember her at least. At least her name would not be as tarnished if at least one person still thought kindly of it.

   But if someone forgets your name when you die.. what happens? What happens when an angel dies? What is the afterlife after this existence? Are you just.. gone? Do you cease to exist? Will you come back? Are you just a spec in the void from then on, being recycled to create new life?

   Seph believed that there never truly was an end, didn't she? She believed that… that she'd be okay forever, right? She thought that she was invulnerable! She knew she was strong! She knew that she could handle anything! So why, why was this… this fate selected for her?

   Was it the Father's fault? Was it Azrael's fault? Did Azrael assign fates to all those who were alive, even Angel's? Were they even responsible for that part of their job? Or did they just separate the spirit from the body? Would they come for Seph? If so, where would her soul go? If not, what would happen? Would she.. be stuck in Treachery forever?

   She didn't seem to be tethered down by anything, perhaps because she was expected to die? Would she die immediately upon Father's light sniffing out within her? Where was the Father anyway… All she remembered was the council taking over and that was it. How long has it been? How long did God stop giving orders and when did the council start?

   She placed back and forth, trying to rack her brain for what the answer was. But.. it had been so, so long. She couldn't even remember! What.. how? Had she just gone along with it for so long that she didn't even realize that it was happening? That she hadn't realized how they scrambled for rule and how they worked on what seemed like impulse. 

   They hadn't even given her a chance when she tried to speak out about them. Were they scared? Were they cowards? Could they not handle criticism? How big of a coward did you have to be to not be able to handle criticism of your rule over what many consider paradise? She shouldn't be sorry, she shouldn't be sorry! It wasn't her fault that they were shit at their jobs!

   As she monologued to herself in her head, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her side. A pain akin to a stab wound. Crying out in pain, she fell to her knees in the snow. A string of curses left her as she fell forward, using her elbow for support. Her wings fell down to her sides.

   Then, the sensation of being cut open tore through her and she began to claw at the snow under her hands. Tears began to flow down her face as she screamed bloody murder as the slow, but vivid sensation burned through her.

   The second set of hands she had gripped her sides so tightly that she began to bleed from where they pierced her skin. Her hands moved from the ground to her head as her screams died down to whimpers. 

   She hadn't been monologuing for that long, had she? Didn't they send her down with at least 2 days left for her to dread? How long had she been pacing and thinking to herself. It couldn't have been so long that 2 days had passed! It couldn't have! Unless she was lied to? Unless she really had walked all that time? But that c-

   Another scream ripped through her as she felt like whatever figurative wound had been cut into her body burned. It felt like something, something was tugging at her insides. Not in the good way, either. Something felt like it was grabbing her organs and ripping them from her body. 

   She wasn't dead yet, at least, but who knows whether that's a blessing or a curse? Wasn't it that if the father's light is gone, you are gone? That's what.. anyone really said to her. That's what she accepted as the truth! But she didn't think it would be this painful… she didn't think she'd have to go through such torment as the light snuffed out in her.

   Her scars that littered her body began to burn, it felt almost like every scar she'd ever gotten had reopened and began to bleed profusely. However, this was only a sensation and aside from her perception of reality, she was fine. But to her it felt like everything was being ripped from her body. It felt like her flesh was being torn from her body in the same way you would tear a rotisserie chicken apart.

   In the same moment her pain began to crescendo, she tore her helmet from her head, throwing it weakly somewhere infront of her. The wings that would cover her face were too weak to do their job.

   Technically, this action went against her morals. Angels who covered their faces weren't supposed to take off their helmet. It was a safety precaution so that others around them were alive and well. But it didn't have much use now, did it? There wasn't really anyone around to see her. Even the ones who could see her probably didn't mind too much, being numb to it all already.

   Wasn't he still here? If she called out to him would he offer comfort? Or would he scoff at her cries? Would he even respond? There was only one way to find out, she supposed, "G..abriel?" She tried to not sound pathetic, but the blood flooding her mouths didn't really seem to help…

   With no answer, she tried again, "Ga...Gabriel?" She sniffled, not a good idea since blood only further flooded her senses, "Please.."

   She coughed. As she did, crimson splattered onto the snow. Now, any time she tried to open her mouth, blood spilled from her mouth like a river. 

   Soon, she completely gives up, she uses what's left of her energy to roll over onto her back so she can look up at the sky. It's grey, it doesn't offer comfort, but.. it's fine she supposes. It's all she really has left anyhow. 

   Perhaps its bloodless, perhaps it was the pain, perhaps it was even the cold, but she could feel her consciousness slipping. No matter how desperately she would've tried to grasp at it, it slipped through the cracks of her fingers. Her eyes slowly close despite her best wishes, and she slips into a forever sleep.

   Though, maybe her mind simply made up things, but she swore that as she closed her eyes she could hear snow crunching near her and the bright wings of someone all too familiar. 

[halfadeckofcards]

I’m so nervous to be posting this - it feels like I’m posting my first fic all over again. I’m having a hard time believing I’m actually doing this. It’s been forever since I’ve done a multi-chapter fic, and I almost feel like I should spend wayyyy longer planning everything out before officially getting started. But I think it’s actually more practical to start writing and posting now.

So here we are. This is a major passion project, and I hope you all enjoy going on this ride with me!

~

Waking Nightmares: Chapter 1

Summary:

Three decades after being defeated by Heather Langenkamp, Freddy Krueger makes his way back to the world of storytellers. He attaches himself to a writer and uses her to build himself back up.

Roxanne Love is a wannabe-author. While struggling with her craft, she finds herself plagued by nightmares, strange events, and sleepless nights. She feels like she’s losing her mind.

When a third character inserts himself into the story, Roxy and Freddy realize they may have a common enemy. And moreover, a common goal…. For now, at least.

Rating: Mature, SFW

Word count: 3,188

Content warnings: Obsession, murder, gore, some potentially impolite looking

POV: Freddy Krueger

I wasn’t sure how long it’d been – time was a bitch to keep track of when you were technically dead.

And under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have cared, because why would I need to?  Humans were always creating and telling stories, had since the early days of their species’ miserable existence, and they’d probably continue to until they burned their world to the ground.  So what if I only managed to claw my way back to their world in a hundred years’ time? A thousand?  Ten thousand?  It made no difference to me.  There would always be stories, and there would always be storytellers, and there would always be me.

But.

There was one little problem with that.  One little thing.

One person.

There was her.

She was human.  She was… well, fragile was the wrong word.  She hadn’t been fragile when she’d grabbed a kitchen knife and downed those fucking pills. She hadn’t been fragile when she’d jabbed an eel in my eye and screamed FUCK YOU and fought for her little brat.  She hadn’t been fragile when she stabbed me with that knife and helped to burn me alive.

Again.

The first time had hurt.  The second time was just been insulting.

She wasn’t fragile.  But she was certainly vulnerable.  I might’ve liked that, but she wasn’t vulnerable to me.  She was vulnerable to the passage of time.  Vulnerable to the withering away of her body as she grew old and became a shell of what she used to be.

The thought gutted me.

What if too much time had passed?  What if time had already claimed her life?

Claimed her life before I could?

I should be the one to do it.  She should die by my hand.  I should be the one to kill her brat and make her drown in the loss. To make her collapse under the weight of her own failure.  To cut her off from everyone else and isolate her in her misery and fear.  To make her suffer in every moment of her existence, in her dreams and her waking moments.  And then when I’d finally had my fun, I’d pin her to the ground beneath me and slit her throat open so she could bleed out and die slowly.  And I’d carve my name into her cold skin just to make sure she’d never be able to escape me, not even in death.

Sure, it would be a little dramatic.  But didn’t she deserve it after all those years? All the fun we’d had?  Didn’t she deserve a special death?

I wouldn’t be able to give her that death if old age took her first.

Which brought me here.

Scraping at a weak point in the barrier. Struggling against the confines of this place, this limbo, this in between hell I’d been stuck in since I woke up. I wasn’t sure who I had to thank for the spark of creativity that had roused me up from being… well, dead.  But I’d make sure to visit them when I did find out, and give them my personal thanks.

There was no way I was staying here.  Wherever here was.  I wasn’t going back to the hellhole I’d first crawled out of.  And I wasn’t going back to the story.  I wasn’t going back to Springwood and Elm Street, as fun as that’d been.

No… I’d gotten a taste of the real world.  And I wanted more.

I’d stand here scraping at the barrier for as long as it took.  I wasn’t going back.

How long had it been?  It had been easy to break through the first time, the only other time I’d done this all those eons ago, when earth and humanity were young. I’d latched onto one of their stories and broken into the world they’d created with the ease of a blade cutting through flesh.

But that was different.  I was coming from a different place and going to a different place. I wasn’t trying to go where I wasn’t supposed to go.  I wasn’t trying to break the rules.

Plus, I hadn’t been fucking dead.

I had her to thank for that.

Did she think of me?  Were there moments where she thought of the people she’d lost – the people I’d relished in snatching away from her?  Did she wake up from nightmares breathless and heart pounding? Did she feel fear every time she was alone?  Every time she saw a playground, or a busy freeway at night, or a hospital?  Every time she saw a tattered poster for those movies, heard that theme, saw a red and green striped sweater?

Did she worry that I’d come back and find her?

Oh… I hoped she did.

I missed her.

Heather.

Nancy.

Something broke.  Shattered and echoed like a glacier cracking apart, like a ribcage being shattered. I didn’t hear it as much as I felt it reverberating through me.

I’d done it.

I’d finally done it.

I pressed myself up against the barrier, pushing against it, shoving through it even as reality tried to resist and pull me back in.  Shards like glass dug into my skin and clung to my body as if it didn’t want to let me go. I wasn’t supposed to be going this way, and the universe knew it.  It fought me the whole time.

But.  It wasn’t enough.

Because one moment I was struggling, skin tearing and breaking as reality screamed around me.

And then the next, I was on the other side.

I was in their world.

I’d fucking done it.

Victory burned hot in my chest.

…Victory was also wet, apparently.  And cold.  And… very unpleasant.

I glanced up and squinted as rain fell into my eyes.  Dark grey clouds shrouded the sky, and towering buildings blocked even that. Lightning flickered, and thunder lazily rolled through the sky moments later.  Puddles had collected in the worn concrete beneath me and splashed as I moved. A storm.  More than a storm.  It was pouring.  I’d been in this world for less than ten seconds, and I was already soaked.

Still better than being burnt, I supposed.

Where was I?

I reached out, searching for a mind to latch onto and dig through – and immediately winced at what was, essentially, the equivalent of a human muscle cramp.

Fuck.  I was weak. My powers had atrophied like an unused muscle.  I’d been dead in the real world for who-knows-how long with no story to immerse myself in and feed off of.  No storyteller to give a helping hand.  At least not until that first spark had woken me up, whatever it was, but even that wasn’t enough to get me back to full power.  

I wasn’t strong enough.  I needed to build myself back up before I could do anything more than the basics, or else I’d probably strain myself and set myself back even further.

Finding Heather would have to take a backseat for now.

I needed a storyteller.

But where to find one?

I couldn’t just attach myself to anyone with a pen and half an idea.  I needed someone promising, someone who made a life out of storytelling, someone who practically dripped with creativity and ideas and untold stories.  They’d be my quickest ticket to getting my power back.  

And then the real fun could begin.

First thing first.  I needed to slip into something more comfortable and pull on an old, familiar face.  I winced again as my powers strained and moved sluggishly and weakly, like a sleep deprived creature that had been forced to wake up.  My bones cracked as they painfully splintered and reshaped themselves.  Claws retracted and horns flattened into nothing, skin changed texture and peeled back into something scarred and twisted.  Fabric formed from nothing.

By the time I was done, my body ached unpleasantly.  Not something I’d felt in recent memory.  But there was a certain pride that accompanied this form whenever I took it. I straightened the long coat I now wore and brushed a hand down the ragged red-and-green striped sweater. The metal claws on my right hand clicked as I adjusted the fedora that blocked the rain from my eyes.  I grinned to myself.

Oh, it did feel good to be back.

Now I needed to have a little chat with someone unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The harsh pounding of rain didn’t quite drown out the squeak of wet leather as I walked down the alleyway.  I glimpsed a cramped sidewalk, glistening street, and old shop faces from where I stood.  A city, then. I’d arrived in a small city somewhere. A city surprisingly empty of people. Even as I heard a siren wail faintly in the distance, there was no sign of life out on the streets or sidewalks, none of the bustle that characterized most human cities.  Maybe the downpour had sent everyone scurrying inside like mice.

Or maybe it was the presence of a predator that sent them running.

Not that it would do them any good.

I peered out from the alleyway, glancing left and right.  There really was no one around.

Well… almost no one.  I dragged my claws down the weathered metal of a gutter pipe, relishing in the screech it made.

The poor sap didn’t even lift his head at the noise, too busy peering down at the device he held, the umbrella he clutched in his other hand blocking half of his vision.  He didn’t even realize what was happening when I shot a hand out and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him into the alleyway and hurling him to the ground.  He yelped and flailed like a turtle on its back.  The umbrella and device went flying and skidded across the wet concrete. Water splashed everywhere.  He stared up at me in horror, wide-eyed and open-mouthed like a startled fish.

A familiar thrill went through my body, and I pointed a talon at him.  “Here’s how this works.  Tell me where we are and what year it is, and you get to live.  You don’t tell me, and we get to play skin the cat.”

The man looked at me with pure fear written across his face.  But then… his expression changed.  From the terror I’d expected to something I hadn’t – annoyance.

He was annoyed at me?

“You can’t be serious,” he said, his tone completely disbelieving and, even worse, unafraid.

I paused.  “I’m pretty serious.”

“Really?”  He rolled his eyes as if he was more inconvenienced than anything.  “Of all the days I could get jumped by a psycho who’s high as a kite and watched too many horror movies, it’s today? Great!  Great.”  He stumbled to his feet, flicking his hands as if he expected that to magically get rid of the water that had drenched his clothes.  “Listen, I don’t have any drugs, if that’s what you want.  Do I look like the kind of guy who carries drugs? No.  Now, I have a promising new writer I’m supposed to meet in ten minutes, so if we can be done here, let’s be done here, freak.”

Now I stared at him.  I didn’t know whether to admire his bravery or be downright insulted by his stupidity.  “You’re supposed to be scared.”

His noise of disgust made me debate stabbing him and watching the life drain from his eyes then and there.  “Halloween was months ago.  You expect me to be scared of a shitty cosplay?”

A shitty what.

“I mean, that claw is obviously fake.”  He gestured to my outstretched hand.  “I’m pretty sure the glove doesn’t even look like that!”

…Alright.  I’d had enough of this bitch.  His eyes bugged as I grabbed him by the collar again and hurled him at the wall. He hit the brick with a wet thud and he cried out in pain.  Anger boiled in my chest and turned to cruel satisfaction as I grabbed him by the throat and jabbed those obviously fake claws into his neck.  Blood mixed with rain, and his eyes grew even wider as he let out a choked, terrified noise.

“Does this feel fucking fake to you?” I snarled, giving him a little shake.  More blood trickled from under the tips of my claws. “Answer the damn question.”

Utter panic flashed across the man’s face. “Question?!?”

Had humanity gotten dumber since I’d last been here?.  “What. Is.  The.  Fucking. Year,” I ground out.

“2022!  It’s 2022, Jesus Christ man!”

2022?  When had I first tried to cross over… 1994?

Thirty years.  It had been almost thirty years.

Thirty years.

Barely more than a blink of an eye for me.  But for Heather?  How old was she now?  Sixty? Almost sixty?

Fuck.  Her little brat would be all grown up by now.

Fuck.

An odd feeling crept up my spine and across my shoulders.  A tingling discomfort that felt far too similar to concern for my liking.  A lot could happen in thirty years.  Old age might not have killed her yet, but there were plenty of other things that could have.  Humans were so damn vulnerable.  Illness, bad luck, other people.  Something else could’ve claimed her life before I’d ever gotten another chance to.

The thought settled in my mind.  Grated against me.  I grit my teeth.

When I pressed the blades deeper into his skin, more blood cascaded out, and he started flailing in panic, eyes bulging out so intensely I thought they might’ve popped out of his skull.  Wouldn’t that have been a sight.

“I asked for a time and a place,” I reminded him.

“Jasper, Ohio!” he choked out.

“Ohio?  Fucking Ohio?”  Again? I nearly laughed at that.  The universe really did have a sense of humor, didn’t it?

So it was 2022, and I was in Jasper, Ohio.  I gave the man a once over.  He currently looked like a thoroughly-soaked, shivering, sad bug-eyed rat that had been shoved into a business suit that hung awkwardly off his frame.  But he’d obviously made an attempt.  I tilted my head to the side.  Cold rain pattered against my skin and snaked past the collar of my coat to dampen my clothes.

Tentatively, I reached out and scraped the barrier of his mind.  I could feel my powers shuddering from disuse as I tried to peer inside.  “You said something about a writer.”

“I-I’m a publishing agent.  One of my writers recommended her friend who’s looking for someone to pick up her manuscript.  I was meeting her for coffee to talk about it.”

I pushed into his mind, wincing as I did so. Pain burned through my body, and I barely managed to glimpse an image of a small café before I had to pull back. I bared my teeth at him.  “What’s her name?”

“Love!  Roxanne Love! Please, I’ve given you everything you want…”  He clutched at my arm, eyes glittering with fear.  “Can I please leave now?”

I let my face slide into an easy, amused grin, which just seemed to unsettle him further if the pathetic whimper was anything to go by.  I stepped away and let him drop to the wall.  He scrambled onto his feet, pressing himself against the wall as if to get as far as physically possible from me as he wheezed and gasped down air in a panic.

“Sure.  Don’t lose your head over it.”

A single swipe was all it took.  He pawed at his throat, eyes bulging cartoonishly in disbelief as blood spurted from the deep slash.  No amount of rain was going to wash that away.  I watched and reveled in the kill as he collapsed to his knees and choked on his own blood.  Wet gurgling sounds filled the air and mixed with the sound of pouring rain.  Until finally, he toppled forward, landed on his face, and went still.  Blood pooled around him.  Lightning cast the world in black and white for an instant, and thunder reverberated through the sky, as if to punctuate the scene.

I outstretched my hand and let the blood wash away.  Normally, I would’ve done something more fun, more elaborate.  Drawn it out and made him really scream.  But that’s not why I was here.  That’s not why I’d grabbed him.

I had a storyteller to look for.

I let this body fade – it was a miracle I’d even been able to physically manifest in the first place – and slipped through this little city, this little Jasper, Ohio to look for the café the man had pictured in his mind.  A storefront painted dark green with large bay windows, soft white curtains, and a little hanging sign that read “Clover’s Café”.  Simple, quaint.  Cute. Reminded me of something I might have found back on Elm Street.

It didn’t take long to find – it hadn’t been far off from where I’d killed the bitch.  I slipped into the café, warm and bustling and, just like I’d thought, filled with people who were hiding from the rain.  It was cozy and tight, everything cast in warm yellow hues as chatter filled the air and people cheerfully minded their own business.

I liked this place already.  It was so sweet and innocuous and blithely cheerful.

They had no idea there was a corpse just a block away.  They had no idea I was here, watching them and scouring them all and looking for someone with even a thread of storytelling potential…

Oh.

Oh.

Her.  It had to be.

She glowed. She drew me in like a moth to the flame. The man I’d grabbed in the alleyway had been dry, not a single drop of creativity in him.  Maybe squashed at a young age, discouraged till any hope of creativity had dried up completely.  But her?  I could feel the creativity pouring off of her and spilling across the floor.

Oh she had so many ideas.  She’d been telling stories and weaving worlds for years.

She sat there so innocently, so cluelessly, staring out a window and watching the rain as she waited for a man who would never arrive.  One hand was propped against her chin, while the other tapped out a rhythm on the tabletop. Deep pink hair, wavy and cut to chin length, framed a sharp jaw, and round silver-framed glasses reflected the rain and streetlights from outside.  A collar with little spikes and a dogtag sat around her neck.  I let my gaze wander down.  Leather jacket.  Matching lace-up boots that went over the knee and halfway up her thighs.  She looked to be late twenties, maybe early thirties at the oldest.

She was a sight.  And she was going to fun, wasn’t she?  I was going to enjoy using her and hearing the stories she had to tell me before I slit her pretty little throat to give her a new, more permanent collar.

And then I would find Heather.

But for now, I was stuck with this one.

I would’ve smiled.

Roxanne.  Roxanne Love. My little storyteller.

[gcllantt]

If they did, did they regret it?

His arms curl up on his chest. His blue eyes narrow some at the woman. Luke isn’t naive. The truth is ugly and he knows it. You know what else is ugly? This reality he’s stuck in. Caught in the chokehold of limbo. Since he doesn't have the answers, his mind does this sick thing and it makes up its own. He went to dark places. Twisted, vile wonders of what really happened to his Eleanor. Nightmare fuel. Whatever the truth is of what came of Eleanor could not possibly be worse than what his imagination ran with.

The most messed up part of this is, he longs for the call. We found her, Luke. Come down to the station. He'd jump in his car so fast. Speed straight down to the morgue. Run to that ice cold room, just so he could see her one last time. He'd do his duty, he'd identify his wife's lifeless body and there would be some sickening comfort in his chest, to finally know where she was. To know she wasn't in pain, or that someone wasn't keeping her away from him or hurting her, or worse. Eleanor would be in peace forever. No one could ever hurt her again.

The mystery would be solved, the story would close. Luke, finally, could properly mourn the loss of his beautiful wife and their precious unborn. He'd give them the funeral they deserved. Gravestones he could leave flowers on. Would he move on? No, but Luke wouldn't have to wonder. That's good enough for him.

“I’d want to know the truth, no matter how ugly.” His voice stands strong, but there’s a certain kind of solemnness he can’t shake. Luke doesn't try to. "I hear they say ignorance is bliss, but that's not true. Ignorance is torture." A bitter laugh falls from his tongue. "At least when you know the truth, you can begin to pick up the pieces. Ignorance just leaves you pacing around, letting those pieces crack more and more beneath your feet, leaving you more to pick up in the end."

Luke takes a deep breath, looks at the young woman. Could he trust her? He doesn't know, doesn't really care. Sometimes, the best confidant is a complete stranger. "My wife went missing a year ago," he tells her after a heavy breath, finally showing her his cards. "Not too far away from here." He thinks of his mother in law's research, filled with bizarre writings. The paranormal. The supernatural. The occult. Things of the devil, his father would've said. Are these the same devils that caught up with Amara all those years ago? Who took Charles too. Did they come back for Eleanor?

"I've heard crazy things about Port Leiry...." his voice trails off. "Investigators back home won't bother to look into it.. and if I didn't do some looking myself, I'd spend my whole life wondering."

Luke, with desperate pleading eyes, look into hers. Can she give him some answers? Does she have any truths to tell him? "Do you know....do you know the rumors about this town?"

I don’t know what I’m looking for. Annalise could sense a lie. Those that didn’t grow up here came because they wanted answers, or they were chasing someone or something. They may not know it yet, may not even realise, but Port Leiry drew them in for a reason, and that reason often comes requiring blood sacrifice along the way, yikes. If the stranger couldn’t even admit to himself that he was here for a reason, there was likely no getting through to him. If he’d lie to himself, lie to her when she’s offering advice, he was already in too deep whether he’d been here hours or months. Some people couldn’t be helped; Annalise had had to learn that the hard way. 

Ah, a little sliver of honesty. Promising, at least. Maybe he’s not completely done for. “You should ask around, see how many people came here for answers. Better yet, ask them a follow up question of whether they ever found them and if they did, do they regret it?” His next words earned him a devastating glare from the huntress, who shook her head at him. If you don’t want to at least consider my warnings because I’m young, that’s on you buddy. But prepare to take it back when you bite off more than you can chew finding those answers.” 

The huntress wasn’t stupid enough to introduce him to hte seedy underbelly of Port Leiry before he was dragged into it kicking and screaming; it would be good if he could avoid that for as long as possible and telling him about it. . . well, she had a feeling it wouldn’t lead to him leaving. “It’s better for you if I’m not, honestly. If you’re staying, just make sure you trust the right people. Trust your gut.”

[vitriolic-vivaciousness]

Ok ok ok since Mr Soot clearly won't do it, I will (it has a happy ending, I promise! The beginning is just to use what Wilbur gave us today):

- Ghostbur is in limbo, yes, and he is there for as long as Wilbur said is he

- however this is still a Soot, yes? Someone who prioritizes brains over brawn (not like he's fighting anyone in that form though)

- One day, Tommy's message appears on the display asking "D'ya think Ghostbur is stuck in the train station? Or did he manage to find a way out...?"

- Tommy had been talking with Ranboo and Tubbo about this, obviously, but neither of them had a good answer

- Ghostbur wonders to himself where he went wrong, why he is stuck here. He repeats the message over and over again

- Could he manage to find a way out? Is he stuck? Is there a way out of here at all?

- He quickly loses hope, of course, but that brief moment of hope was the most he had in weeks

- Only a few days later, so basically the same day for Tommy, he mentions how "I much prefer Ghostbur over you, you fucking twat. You came back and to what? Laugh?"

- Ghostbur doesn't know who he's being compared to. He doesn't know who Tommy was talk to, but the idea of him being wanted somewhere sparks enough hope to bring the questions forth again

- Alivebur never managed to get out, but could he? He wasn't exactly like him, but he still considered himself smart. He heard a juror that Jack Manifold got out of his limbo, surely he could at least try.

- It doesn't go according to plan. He struggles through every nook and cranny with no sign of an exit

- Frustrated and in tears, he screams and sobs. He wants out. He should be out. Why is he forced to be stuck here when his little brother (at least in his eyes) is hurting from his revived counterpart?

- Part of him starts to resent Revivebur

- Slowly but surely his elresentment leaks into his thoughts. He didn't like to consider himself someone who felt these bad emotions, but at this point it was better than the mind-numbing silence and depression

- He should be the one out there, not him. Why was he the one stuck here? Why was it so important for him to stay and "trade places" with alivebur, when he was out the hurting their family?!

- It's subtle at first. The dimly lit sign across the rails, rarely seen past the trains going by

- As time goes on, the feeling of "I should be the one out there. I deserve to be happy, not stuck here alone and abandoned" grows

- Shlatt visits once or twice, but when he realized it's not the Wilbur he's looking for, he stops coming by

- Ghostbur gets to thinking, then. Why was it that Jack escaped this hell while he, Shlatt, and Alivebur all were stuck? What made them so different?

- it's another week later that he notices the light across the tunnel

- He can't make out what it says, but it's a change. It's something different and new, and that means he can affect this place too.

- He starts getting hopeful, even though he knows he shouldn't. It's been, what, 7? 8 years now? But then again, he overheard some of the SMP members talking about the passage of time being different in limbo

- With this newfound hope comes the determination to leave. As the determination and hope grows, the light does too. Henwants to be out there. He needs to be out there.

- After another couple months, he can make out words. "EXIT"

- He almost collapses in relief right then and there. Surely it wasn't that easy, was it? Wanting and feeling the need to escape, that you deserved to escape? Determination to try and to kindle that flame?

- He crosses the tunnel as quick as he can, and finally. Finally he reaches the door

- it's at the last second he hesitates. He doesn't know what will happen once he goes through the door. Is there an alternative afterlife, one happier then the last? Or will be somehow manage to make it out of here and back to his friends?

- He ignores the thoughts, and quickly pushes open the door

- There's a blinding lights for a moment before he sees it: a rock wall that seems to go up forever

- Deciding 'Fuck it, it's better than sitting here' Ghostbur starts to climb

- It takes... probably a good 4 or 5 days straight of just climbing before anything changes

- There's a roof now, solid and above his head. He almost misses the trapdoor at the top

- Eventually he climbs up and goes through, consequences be damned

...

...

Wilbur wakes up dizzy and disoriented, memories clashing in his head. He remembers one thing while part of him remembers another.

Not only are his memories clashing, his emotions, motives, and beliefs are getting all mixed up too

He doesn't get out of bed that day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Something changed. It felt like the world was shifted to the right slightly. Things felt too close yet too far away, his vision kept blacking out and his hearing was shot. He didn't know what was happening, but now? He didn't really care. He just wanted it gone.

It's not until he's out next and talking to Tommy that the change becomes apparent. He's less manic and more genuine, a little more happy and excited. He sees a blue sheep at Ghostbur's grave and the name "Friend!" Jumps into his mind.

Friend, who was Ghostbur's sheep. Not Alivebur's. Not Revivebur's.

At the slow realization of what's happened sinks in, part of him is delighted. Memories spent in numbing coldness being drowned out by the overwhelming joy. Another is bitter and angry that the piece of himself called "Ghostbur" is back and appears to have fused with the already revived body/soul.

Both knew that it was a shit storm waiting to happen, but frankly, neither of them cared.

(For different reasons, of course)

[satingrove]

peach

padawan obi-wan x reader blurb, ~ 799 words

summary: obi-wan makes sure you know your worth

this is self-indulgent fluff for the sole purpose of COMFORT

“I just wonder if I’ll ever be good enough for my Master.” Your glassy eyes stare at the grass, fingers pulling at it but not ripping the blades. Since when had the conversation grown so depressing?

Obi-Wan doesn’t like to hear it. He doesn’t care for the way your Master treats you - in fact, it aggravates him more than any Jedi should let themselves be aggravated, and he certainly does not care for the way you’re speaking about yourself.

“Oh, shh,” he shades his eyes from the sun with one palm, the other sliding over the back of your hand and squeezing tight, “you’ll always be brilliant to me.”

It soothes you - truly, it does, but it won’t change the way your Master sees you. The image of that dissatisfied face causes an involuntary flinch. Your tears are kept at bay through hurried blinks, getting your eyelashes all wet. He matches your stare and it lets you forget everything for a moment, but Obi-Wan doesn’t need any more time than that to notice the tiny dewdrops.

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shushed you,” His concern makes him sputter, awkwardly starting to rub your back. To you, it doesn’t feel odd. “Talk about it instead?”

“Mhm,” your sniffles make his heart stretch. “If you don’t mind.”

His voice becomes the softest you’ve ever heard. It’s melodic and so full of sympathy that it leaves your cheeks burning, because he can’t wrap his head around why he would ever mind. “No, no, of course not.” 

You feel a little pat on your back. “I’ll listen. Promise.” And he grins sheepishly.

“Well,” you start, wondering where exactly to begin, “I just feel- I feel like a burden nearly all the time, and if I happen to do something quite well, it’s completely ignored.”

“And that’s not your fault,” Obi nudges his nose into your shoulder, braid dangling low and tickling your arm. You can’t tell if you’ll ever feel sad as long as he’s pressing his handsome face into your body. 

He looks up, still busying himself on his shoulder-nuzzling, lips against it, “You must know that, right?”

Then he loses your gaze. You fuss over your hands, lacing your fingers together and letting them drop into your lap. His brows furrow.

Well, there are a lot of things you know. You know that friends isn’t the right word to use for the two of you, neither is lovers; stuck in limbo, because going too far would mean much too far, but too little just isn’t enough.

“I don’t think I know it, but I’m learning it.”

He snakes his hand between both of yours, replacing your fingers with his own.

“You deserve better. I don’t give two bantha ticks what anyone else says.” 

It was something that you supposed was obvious, but when it came from his mouth, with his lips, it was different; no doubt because he could make any string of words sound as sweet as honey and as right as rain. 

Then there was the flash of soft anger in his face as he said bantha ticks, and you wonder if Qui-Gon had ever witnessed it too.

“There’s not much I can do.” No - you couldn’t necessarily be passed on to a new Master at this age. A lack of praise but an abundance of slander wouldn’t be enough to win you one.

Obi-Wan knows it, and hates that he can’t counter it. He decides his own support will have to do for now.

“You can start by telling me that you’re not a burden.” Laying back into the grass, he squints and grins widely.

You miss his touches already - you give in.

“I’m not.”

“Not what?” He looks with one eye, expectantly.

So, he was going to be difficult about it. But in the best of ways - putting all his enchanting facets to use - a little push to make sure you know you’re special. You mumble, “A burden.”

He supports himself by his elbows, and stars, if he wasn’t the most striking thing you’d ever seen.

“Again?” Obi-Wan talks smoothly, steadily.

“I’m not a burden.” You say, rigidly and embarrassed. 

The hand pushing your hair back makes up for your uneasiness.

“Exactly”, he says, and tugs on your ear, reaching from his spot on the ground, “you’re a peach.” My peach.

The nickname breaks your cloud of sorrow, and in turn makes him smile with every bit of sunshine he seemed to carry with him. He did aspire to be a great Jedi, but you liked when he gave you his affection, and that wasn’t something he could hold onto forever. Though for now, it’s the sacrifice he makes. He could concern himself with the formalities and extensive rules later. 

[crayonurchin]

I’m in a weird spot right now.

Mentally, I am in a lot of pain.

My ptsd is... a lot.

My OCD doesn’t ever stop. It’s exhausting.

I might be transgender. I might have Transgender OCD. I have no idea. All I know is I woke up one morning and the thought I might not be a woman robbed me of everything feminine that I’ve loved so much, all the comforts of being a woman, even all the progress of loving my body I fought tooth and nail against an eating disorder to gain. Gone. Gone in a day. I’ve enjoying my gender for 25 years, and now I’m just... stuck. Stuck in a strange limbo of uncertainty and pain. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but none of it is good, none of it is relief it’s just pain and sadness and God I don’t know why this happened.

I am 25. That’s so young. But I’m terrified I’ve lived too long already to not be further. I’m afraid to confront that because what if I lose sight of all I’ve already achieved? All my progress and success. What if I’m doing things wrong? What if I am just. Wrong.

I’m fighting every single day to keep going forward. I can say even on my worst days, and this year I have had BAD days, that I always try to do the best thing for me. Sometimes that’s just, eating some food and drinking water. if I see I’ve not done it, I will do it. 

I will not be robbed of my chance to live a long, happy, healthy and wonderful life. I REFUSE to let that be kept from me by illness.

But it is just a lot. And nobody can help me but myself. That’s the lonely bit.

I am a lucky person. I live in a good home. I have a close family. My dad is just about the best person on earth. I have a best friend I can rely on. I have friends online and in real life who I know will help me if I ask for it- or will hang with me. My therapist has done incredible things that have changed my life forever. I have good physical health. I’m talented, determined, passionate.

But I am also very, very ill. And I have been ill for a very long time now, even if I didn’t know it. Developing OCD at 12 and still having it at 25 is upsetting. Sometimes it feels like there’s an element of life I’m being kept from by this. A happier, less stressed, less sad side of life. One that everyone things I'm a part of because I’m right beside them, but not one I’m actively experiencing. 

When I was 16, I told myself I would never be mentally ill. And now, it feels like all I am is mentally ill. I want to be happy again- a real kind of happy. One I don’t have to fight for, or force, or fake and hope I make.

I’ve told myself I’m broken for a long time. That there’s a little me that’s normal deep down inside, but she’s covered in a dark shadowy static, totally encased in all the darkness and pain, and the only reason nobody else can see that is because I craft a careful skin on top of the static, because I don’t want people to think that’s who I am. I want people to think I’m the person I want to be. I want to be that person...

My therapist is encouraging my to change that language, to CHOOSE it to be different. Because I know I'm not broken. All the things I am are just me. And yes, I have hated myself for years, but that doesn’t mean I’m hatable, it doesn’t mean anything.

I am Jess Butcher. I am a 25 year old woman, and if I’m not that’s okay. I like spicy food and sour flavours. I list colours to calm down. I paint my nails because I like painted nails. I find people amazing gifts. I compliment strangers on tiny things because I love making people smile. I make characters and stories and huge worlds and I can share them with people. A couple months ago I was having suicidal ideation and I did a 5 hour party for 6 children, and those children all loved it and I was happy they did. I’ve spent thousands on therapy because I am worth the effort. I have cried an ocean of tears all because you have to feel it to heal it. I refuse to avoid my pain because I don’t deserve to hold it in, I deserve to laugh and to love and to enjoy every little part of our little blue dot. I love women, I love their beautiful bodies and incredible brains and gorgeous voices and the way their soft arms wrap so warmly around you. I’m full of so much potential and words I don’t have right now because it’s late. It’s late and I have work in the morning and all day I have been trying to live in the moment but I’ve been in so much pain. It hurts so much and I don’t know when it’s going to stop but it’s GOING to stop. Not because it magically went away but because I worked hard to overcome it. Nothing will ever stop me from that. NOTHING. Not even my own mind.

Because I am me.

And that’s incredible. 

[tangledstarlight]

good, bad or the space between (maybe i’m all three)

i just got a lot of thoughts and feelings about luke implying (twice) that he’s possibly going to hell??? and like i’m not sure what this is, i started it at 3am once and it got out of hand and also doesn’t really have a conclusion?? but okay.

luke thinks he’s a bad person, then he starts thinking about fate and destiny and soulmates and his thoughts spiral from there. but alex and reggie are there to try and help slow them down.

trigger warnings!! swearing, mentions of death (cos they’re ghosts) 

also on ao3

The thing is, Luke didn’t think he was a bad person. Not really.

He’s never killed someone, never gone out of his way to hurt someone, never purposely broken the law. But he’s also never gone out of his way to be a good person either. His homework was always handed in late, he never hesitated to jump into a fight if someone else started it, he definitely stole a candy bar from the corner shop when he was ten and never told anyone.

He’d always sort of considered himself neutral. That he’d have time to work on being a better person (because he was seventeen and dying really wasn’t high on his list of worries) after the band got signed and they were touring the world.

And then they’d died and became ghosts.

And suddenly everything that he’d been putting off – thanking bars who gave them a chance, dropping a few dollars into donation buckets, going home, talking to his mom, his dad, making things right – was off the table. He’d missed his chance.

There’s a moment, a brief few seconds after they first land back in the studio and Julie is running, screaming, from them, where he thinks maybe being not a good person but not a bad person in life means you end up as a ghost forever.

But then he looks over at Alex and at Reggie and they’re the best people he knows. They don’t have a bad bone between them, they’re always kind and polite and caring and just good people. If anyone deserves to go to a happy peaceful afterlife it would be Alex and Reggie.

That starts a second brief moment of panic in Luke’s brain. Because did he rob them of a peaceful afterlife as well as being responsible for robbing them of life? The street dogs had been his idea after all, he’d said they were probably fine, he’d lead them right into death.

The thought haunts him, pokes at him, follows him around until someone mentions the idea of unfinished business and he lets out a breath.

He might have been indirectly responsible for their deaths but at least he wasn’t the reason they were ghosts. It was a small comfort.

Small, because while Luke is pretty sure he deserves this limbo, in between, half-life that they’ve been dumped in, he doesn’t think Alex and Reggie do. They suffered and survived so much in life, they shouldn’t have to deal with more pain in the after. And he’d give anything to change it.

But they were still dead and it was still partly his fault and they still don’t know what their unfinished business is and now there was Julie.

Julie with her voice of an angle and warm smile and afterlife saving hugs and understanding eyes when he tells her that he misses his mom. Julie, who makes him want to live and to be a good person. But he’s already dead and honestly, does being a good person in your afterlife even make a difference?

She makes him feel more alive now that he’s dead then he did when he was alive which is just. It’s not something he really wants to get into because this was all just going to end badly anyway. Right?

Because he’s dead. He can’t change that. And being here, with Julie, being with her every chance he gets, Luke is pretty sure that’s selfish of him. They’re going to – hopefully – move on one day and the boys will go somewhere better and he’ll go – wherever it is people like him go and Julie will be left alone.

A good person wouldn’t fall in love with someone they knew was going to be hurt in the end, would they? Surely a good person would stop it now, when it was new and undefined and still unspoken. They’d stop it before it just ended in heartbreak and pain. Luke didn’t mind taking on all that pain but Julie didn’t deserve any of it.

They were the ones who fell into her life, he was the one who’d gotten them killed, so Luke should be the one to take on all the fallout.

But he was selfish. He wasn’t a good person, and maybe it made him a bad person. But all he wanted to do was spend every second he could get with her. Even though he knew it was just going to end badly. He couldn’t stop himself.

A part of him, a small, selfish, clinging to any little bit of hope, part him wondered if soulmates were real. If maybe, just maybe this wasn’t destined to be a tragedy like so much else in his life.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” The question falls from his mouth before he can stop it. They’re at the beach, outside what used to be Reggie’s house and Alex has just finished rambling about Willie with this hopeless little smile on his face and he can hear the waves crashing and, if he closes his eyes he can almost pretend this is twenty-five years ago.

“What, like ‘there’s only one person in the world for you’ kind of soulmates?” Alex asks, head tilting to look at him and Luke shrugs, Reggie propping his head up on his hands as he rolls over in the sand.

“Yeah. And like, fate and destiny and all that shit,” because he’s been thinking about it a lot lately.

Luke had never really given fate or destiny much thought before. When they were alive that is (just another one of the things he’d put off because there was supposed to be more time). But now he was dead and a ghost and well, it gave him a lot of time to think about things he hadn’t before.

They were kind of cool concepts, fate and destiny and soulmates, something he could make a song out of one day maybe, but he’d never really considered them real. Because if he did, then he had to think about how it was his fate to die at seventeen, and how he was never destined to make it big with his band, and how maybe he needed to die to find his soulmate twenty-five years later and how there might be some big powerful entity out in the world just waiting for him to slip up and ruin everything.

He was pretty good at ruining things and peoples lives. If he was to have a superpower, Luke thinks that would be it.

“I don’t know, never really thought about it.” Alex frowns like this has opened a door to thoughts he’d never considered before and Luke bites his lip, because the last thing he wanted was to send Alex on a thought spiral. Because of course he has, because Luke is good at doing the wrong thing.

“I hope it’s real,” Reggie buts in before Luke can come up with something to say to Alex, and both of them turn to look at him with surprise.” I just think it’s nice, y’know? That there’s someone out there for everyone, that there’s someone out there who will get you, even if you don’t get yourself. And it sucks that maybe we’ve missed that, being, y’know, dead,” now Reggie is frowning, fingers of one hand digging into the sand and from the corner of his eye Luke can see Alex open his mouth about to say something when Reggie looks up at them, a smile on his face.

“But maybe we didn’t miss it. Maybe we had to die, y’know? Like it was part of some bigger plan. We had to die because someone knew that Julie would need us and that Alex had to meet Willie and that the 90’s just weren’t the right time for us. And that all this is fucking fate and it’ll make sense one day. Better than thinking we died eating street dogs for no reason, anyway.”

Alex seems to be caught on the way Reggie has pointed out Willie specifically for him, and if it was any of time Luke would probably tease him for the way his cheeks had gone pink. Seeming to notice it too, Reggie directs his attention to Luke, giving their drummer a chance to wrangle his thoughts.

“Do you? Believe in it all, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Luke shrugs, brows furrowing as he looks out at the sea and the horizon and the sky that’s slowly turning purple as the sun sets. “I think if soulmates are real then Julie’s probably mine.”

When he doesn’t get any response to his declaration he pulls his eyes away from the horizon to find Reggie nodding at him and Alex raising an eyebrow like what he hasn’t just said is absurd or wrong. Don’t they get it? Frowning, Luke tries again.

“Which is bad, y’know? Because she’s– well she’s Julie. And she deserves like, the fucking best and I just ruin everything. All I’ve got is my music, the stuff I can write and even Bobby took that from me so, I mean, I’ve not even really got that. Plus I’m like, the whole reason we died and probably part of why we’re stuck here as ghosts and honestly if soulmates are real then someone is being really shitty to Julie by making me hers. I know I’d be the luckiest guy in the world but – being stuck with me? Pretty fucked up. It’s not like I’m a good person or anything, y’know?”

Alex is gaping at him now, head shaking slowly and Reggie has gone unnaturally still, hands full of sand curling into fists. Luke just frowns, not sure what’s wrong with them.

“That’s – okay, yeah no,” Alex starts, mouth opening and closing a few times as he tries to come up with something. “So much of what you just said is so wrong I don’t– I don’t even know where to start.”

“Luke. You’re not the reason we died. You know that, right?” Reggie asks and oh.

Luke had thought they’d known. The street dogs were his idea, he’d not stopped them when Alex had pointed out they tasted funny, he’d not gotten them help quick enough after the first time Reggie threw up.

“It was my idea to get street dogs that night. I basically walked us right into it.”

“No.”

And Luke has never heard Reggie sounds so sure of something then that single little word.

“You didn’t kill us man, the battery acid soaked hotdogs and pickles killed us. The food that we all ate willingly. You didn’t force it down our throats.” Reggie looks pained as he says it, like he’s reliving the moment all over again, but his eyes are focused solely on Luke’s and it takes him a moment to realise that he’s in pain because of what Luke’s been thinking, not because of their painful deaths.

“None of this is your fault. If any of us are to blame for dying and being ghosts and all the other shit then it’s like, it’s equal blame on all three of us. Though the guy who sold us the food is probably the one really at fault here,” Alex muttered the last part, lips pulling into a small grimace.

“But–” Luke starts, only to be cut off by Alex smacking a hand over his mouth and okay. Kinda rude.

“Nuh uh, no more talking from you until it’s positive things.”

“Dude, it’s shit. We died, it was shit. We almost died again, even more shit. But we didn’t,” Reggie snaps his fingers in Luke’s face, as if to punctuate his point, “And yeah, we don’t really get this whole ghost existence thing, and apparently no one else does either, we’re clearly special like that. But that doesn't mean it’s a bad thing. It’s our second chance.”

“You deserve a second chance at life just as much as we do,” Alex says, hand still covering Luke’s mouth even as he looks him right in the eyes and he really hates how they both seem to know exactly what he’s been thinking.

Even if he still thinks they’re wrong. Because Luke, what did he ever do in life that made him worthy of a second chance? Of getting to still be with his best friends, his family? Or getting to meet Julie? Of getting a chance to finally touch his dream?

“Do you think we don’t deserve a second chance?” Reggie asks and Luke can feel his eyes widen even as he shakes his head quickly, a muffled ‘no’ making it past Alex’s hand and he’s seconds away from turning into a five year old and licking it when Alex finally takes it away.

“What!? No! Of course you guys deserve this! After all the crap that you put up with when you were alive the universe owed you a second chance. You two deserve like, the gold standard of an afterlife.” Why don’t they understand that?

“Then why is it so hard for you to understand that we think the same about you? That you deserve a gold standard afterlife too. With us. With Julie.” Reggie has grabbed his hands, Luke’s not sure when he did that. Or when Alex moved so he was sitting so close their legs were pressed together, no space between them.

“I– I don’t–” Luke tries to to say something, anything. But he doesn’t have an answer, he doesn’t know why.

Because he’s always thought of himself as not being a bad person, but not being a good person, of being neutral and thinking he’d have time to figure it all out later. And now he’s head and his best friends are holding him and telling him he’s not guilty of second hand murder and–

He lets out a shuddering breath, shoulder shrugging helplessly as he looks between them both.

“I’m not to blame?” Idly, from a far away point in his mind, he noticed how small his voice sounds. How it could almost get lost in the crashing of waves.

“No. Not for anything that happened to us.” Reggie squeezes his hands.

“But I’m not– I– I didn’t do anything in life that made me a good person. I fucked up so much stuff, my parents I–” he trailed off, eyes going a little unfocused.

“We were seventeen Luke. We were kids, and we were meant to have like, a whole lifetime to fix the stuff we broke. You didn’t do anything worse than me and Reg, which means you deserve to be happy just as much as we do.”

Luke nods at the words, lets them settle in his mind. Tries to absorb what they’re saying. Tries to believe it the same way they seem to. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to, but he can at least try.

[astroninaaa]

Hot takes

Ranboos character is incredibly boring, he does nothing for the plot. On top of that he is such a Mary sue since everybody loves him and overall he lacks any enemies. Not to mention the pacing of his current arc is frustratingly long.

Tubbo had a promising character arc during the whole L'manburg president wall arc where he exiled Tommy. I was excited to see him develop only to have him do a full boring circle and go back to square one of being a dynamic yet flat character who's potential is on the bench catching dust alongside Niki's, Fundys, and Erets.

Wilbur shouldn't have been revived at all and Ghostbur being sent on a train in Limbo without having a decent character arc is so disappointing like Jesus they slaughtered my boy-

I'd fucking ascend if Tommy finally had a good character arc were he developed as a character and didn't just reverse it minutes later, especially since the whole story somewhat revolves around Tommy like please at least let him mature a bit.

Kinoko kingdoms residents should have just teamed up with Eret and made a whole cool arc where they access the damage dream did to them and work on making a big ass kingdom like I would love to see it since that group has barely developed throughout all arcs.

Ranboo and Karls lore is basically the equivalent of filler side quest that does nothing to the overall game but is interesting enough to grab your attention initially.

Thanks for listening I'll be here all night!

gonna answer them one by one wait

meanwhile, send me a hot take!!!

1. agreed, honestly. i think he adds a bit to the story by making other characters get some development (c!tommy and c!sam specially), but narratively he is quite useless. i think his character has a lot of wasted potential (at least for now). i agree 100% that he's a mary sue he is THE mary sue of the server. i do agree with the pacing of his arc as well- it's just very very much only internal conflict and nothing else but there's only so much you can do for development with monologues and introspective moments. it's not necessarily bad and i get that there's people who like it, i'm just not one of them bc it's not the type of narrative i like to watch/read.

2. yeah, that's true. as much as i adore c!tubbo and he's my favorite character with absolutely no doubts about it, he is in need of some development. i do think he gets it from time to time tho- the whole nukes thing, building the interrogation room, getting walls around snowchester -, all of them are signs of who he is and of how everything that has happened to him affects him. that's important. it'd be nice to see it more worked on, but i believe that's something that will come with time (or not. cc!tubbo is not the biggest rp fan tho so i don't even mind)

3. ngl i LOVE c!wilbur being revived that was something i was so excited about bc i feel like he's someone that's gonna make the story move and i want that. i want that so bad. please c!wilbur make things happen. i was extremely upset with ghostbur's demise, tho. ghostbur deserved so much better and the prospect of him just being stuck in the train station forever is really, really disappointing, specially since cc!wilbur has said he has no plans for ghostbur anymore.

4. mmmmmmm hard disagree. i think c!tommy's getting good characters arcs ever since the smp started. cc!tommy is definitely one of the better writers in the smp and i love him for it. the thing is that c!tommy's arcs are a lot of "one step forward, three steps back", which can be really, really frustrating, but still works and sets a coherent pace to his characterisation. i like it, but i get where you're coming from and respect it

5. AGREED ABSOLUTELY AGREED like what was the point......... of starting a whole new kingdom......... if they had, as you said, just joined c!eret, that would've been amazing in so many ways. it'd add so much to plot, like fr. i love that idea and i support it so bad. specially bc kinoko kingdom just feels... empty? i guess? idk i feel like it has no history or depth to it but maybe that's just me. wouldve liked it a lot more if they had merged with someone else- even fucking c!niki, since they just built on top of her city without any regard for her lmaoooo

6. oh, c!karl's story is definitely a sidequest to the main story, but i don't think that's a bad thing. it's mostly irrelevant to the smp and, honestly, id prefer it if they kept it that way with exceptions to like.... add spice? like with the masquerade episode and the egg that was just SO GOOD bc it didnt really matter overall to the story but it gave the egg arc more depth and i think that's super, super cool and i hope they do it more. i like the idea of a little spin-off happening alongside the main story, it's just cool and can add a lot to the smp if done right. for now, i like it, bc i believe it's doing just that, and the whole thing with c!karl and the other side and the inbetween bits is quite interesting and makes the "random character travels through time" sidequest just,,,,, more than it would be without it. about c!ranboo......... mainly yes but also no? like, i think if it's worked on then his lore will stop being just a sidequest. i wish they explored his relations with c!dream more, bc, to me, that was the most interesting and curiosity-inducing part of his lore. everything else feels too disconnected from the important things happening rn. idk tho that might be just me LMAOOOOO

[mcrninqstar]

𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡: 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠

SUMMARY: Love is patient, love is kind…but love is also strong. Cupid gathers Lucifer, Levi, Zatanna, and Rachel together on Valentine’s Day to finally put an end to an awful curse placed upon Lucifer and Levi by God himself. TRIGGERS: Angst, Pain WRITTEN WITH: @ofcupidslove, @zztophat, @trigonsgem, @ofleviathcns, @mazikeenofmurders

CUPID, ZATANNA, LUCIFER: Cupid was nervous. She had all the ingredients and the back up that she needed, but this was the biggest expansion of her power and magic that she'd performed in well, ever. So many people were counting on her to get this right, and she didn't want to let them down. Belphegor had stopped by earlier to give her a pep talk and it really helped boost her confidence. They always believed in her when she didn't believe in herself. They had a lot of things planned for Cupid's birthday so she was excited to get the show on the road. Only, her confidence started waning a little bit as the preparation work for the spell dragged on for longer than she thought it would. Cupid glanced at her watch and then back at the bowl of ingredients she was mixing together.

"Hey," Zatanna nudged Cupid gently as she placed another bowl beside her. "We'll get you out of here as soon as we can," she promised the angel. It was Valentine's Day and Cupid's birthday. The magician was just as eager as the angel to push the spell forward. She and Michael had plans tonight. Their last date night had been crashed by his siblings. She was hoping this date night wouldn't be spoiled too.

Both Bells and Michael stopped by Cupid's greenhouse earlier in the day to provide some support and a few extra ingredients. After talking with Dean, Zee knew that Belphegor was planning a date night for themselves and Cupid. Planning was a rare thing for Bells and Zee knew Cupid didn't want to miss the date. She would do what she could to push the spell through, but the prep work that was required was extensive. Michael had brought in a few god artifacts that they had to dismantle and siphon power from. Even with Michael and Lucifer's help, siphoning all that power had taken more time than expected. They were finally reaching the end of the prep work and would be able to start the ritual soon.

"Are we ready?" Lucifer asked. He'd been a bit of a helicopter since the whole thing started. He wasn't sure what to do with himself or how he could help, but he wanted to help. He'd sent Maze back out to Los Angeles to keep an eye on Chloe during the ritual. He wasn't sure what kind of affect this would have on Chloe. More than anything, he wanted to give the Detective her free will back. If she chose not to come back to him, he would understand. And if she did come back to him, at least he would know the choice was hers and there was no god meddling to it. "Is there anything else you need?"

"I think..." Cupid glanced at the notes she'd written down for herself. "I think we're good. I, uh, I need you all to gather in that sigil over there." She pointed to the center of the greenhouse where a large sigil was drawn, in the middle of the sigil stood an alter. "Once you're in there, I'll need you three to drink this," she held up a flask full of potion that Zatanna helped her mix earlier. Lucifer took the offered flask and made his way over to the sigil in the middle of the room. After taking a swig of the potion (which was disgusting) he passed it off to his brother. "Bombs away, Levi."

LEVI: levi was ready for this whole thing to be fixed, being stuck in limbo like this had taken a toll on him and he could only imagine what it had been like for rachel. in an attempt to not cause her any extra pain he'd kept his distance, although he'd forgotten about the gifts and flowers he'd set up to be delivered to her... that had been an awkward conversation... but at least it was going to be coming to an end soon. since levi had been told that cupid was going to do her spell he'd been moving between being excited to finally have his angel back and worried that he'd really lose her this time. when he arrived at the greenhouse he'd kept to the fringes, speaking to lucifer occasionally and avoiding zatanna's glares. he didn't know if rachel wanted to speak to him but anytime their eyes met he'd give her a smile, letting her have the choice in speaking to him or not. hearing that it was ready he followed lucifer to the sigil and took the flask from him, taking a drink of it before grimacing at the flavour "angel- i mean, here rachel." he smiled awkwardly before offering her the potion

RACHEL: Rachel was beyond ready for this to be fix, she couldn't count how many times she'd almost let her rage get the best of her lately, talking to Zatanna helped but part of her knew that things would never be fixed unless this curse was gone. She felt it each away at her every single day something seemed to remind her of Levi which was almost too easy these days. It was like she was always fighting with herself when it came to being around Levi seeing how he wore his pain on his face she could see how much he wanted this curse broken yet at the same time she noticed his worry of losing her forever because that was always a possibility something Zatanna and her talked about in great lengths. She gave Zee a softly smile as she moved towards the sigil following Cupid's request she always hated this day especially given how lovely everyone always acted around this day made her sick. She could felt Lucifer's pain and Levi's nervousness when she got closer to them smiling softly at her once boyfriend. "I don't mind you calling me angel, snake charmer" She replied softly taking the potions downing the rest of it without issue before turning her attention towards Cupid.

CUPID, ZATANNA, LUCIFER: Cupid took a deep breath to steady herself as everyone made their way over to the sigils and drank the nasty, icky potion she spent three hours working on. She had to get this right. If she was able to break this spell, then that meant there was hope for breaking Belphegor's curse too. It meant that there was hope that they could undo what God did. "Can you draw this mark on everyone's palm?" Cupid asked Zatanna as she tapped on the piece of paper to show her the drawing. The magician nodded and obliged, taking care to draw the symbol on each individual's palm before making her way over to the alter in the middle of the sigil.

Cupid entered the sigil moments later and a shift in power happened. It was like a vacuum sucked the air in around them. They could all see Cupid's halo now, its shine almost blinding. "Sorry," Cupid apologized to them all as she tried to steady herself. The flow of power was nauseating. "The markings on your palm sort of act as a power share." Two fallen archangels, a half demon, a magician, and a whole bunch of God artifacts they'd siphoned power from. If this wasn't enough magic to break through a God curse, Cupid didn't know what would be. Her current form couldn't handle much more power. She made her way to the alter, holding onto it to steady herself.

"I don't know what the cosmic consequences of this spell will be," she admitted. "I don't know if it will hurt or not." The literature wasn't very clear on that. "But there is one thing you three need to know. If I break this spell, God will know. He'll feel it, just as you feel it." These curses were as much a part of God as anything else. "There's a risk he could come back..." she glanced up at Lucifer, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Then that's a risk we'll have to take," Lucifer replied. What was one more fight for free will anyway? Maybe this time when God showed up, Lucifer and Michael would be on the same side for once. Or maybe Lucifer was just being hopeful. He didn't care either way. He wanted his freedom back; he wanted those around him to have the right to choose to be around him. What was love, power, and devotion if not a choice of free will? "Go on, dove," he encouraged Cupid. "Give the old man a good old fuck you for us. He deserves it after everything he's done. What do you need us to do?"

Cupid let out a sigh of relief as Lucifer agreed to the consequences. She didn't want to be the one to make that choice. She didn't want to be the one to potentially call God here. But the devil gave her permission and she was going for it. "One fuck you, coming right up," she nodded. "If you could all please link hands...let's get this started."

LEVI: he smiled softly at rachel at least she doesn't seem to completely hate me he thought to himself "well, who am i to deny you what you want angel." levi winked at her before turning to face cupid "i agree with goose, let him come." his tone was steely and if anyone read his thoughts they'd get a peek at how furious levi was with his father, not only for what he'd done to him and rachel, but for what he'd done to bells... levi had plenty of things to work through with god. part of him was still worried about what this would do to rachel, levi didn't want her to go through any more pain but he knew she wanted to be in charge of her own choices and feelings so he'd do what he could to ease any pain she had to go through. "make him suffer." he held his hand out to lucifer before reaching over to rachel with his other hand "whatever it takes... right angel?"

RACHEL: She gave Levi a soft smile that didn't reach her eyes, she struggled to be happy lately, before turning to cupid taking a deep breath to calm her rage at  the mere mention of the name. "I'd make you all orphans in a matter of seconds, so best crack on with this." She replied a heat behind her voice she hardly ever used before watching the other. She could keep her cool, her years of meditation had helped her growing up and she wasn't about to mess anything up or though it off the spell. She sighed turning back to Lucifer and Levi taking both of their hands feeling butterflies swim around her stomach wishing this would finish quickly without too much pain but she could take anything thrown at her, she won't be controlled anymore by anyone. "Whatever it takes." she nodded her head at Levi taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

CUPID, ZATANNA, LUCIFER: "I dunno about making him suffer," Cupid chuckled. "I'm strong, but not that strong." Even Rachel's threat of making them orphans was overstated. "But I can certainly knock him down a peg or two." As the three affected individuals connected hands another wave of energy swept through the building. Cupid nodded to Zatanna and anointed the magician's hands and then her own with a sort of herbal mixture. The two linked hands at the center of the alter.

The angel took a deep breath and the pair began to recite a spell in unison. "Amor animi ex amore et ex animo, et animarum illorum iam semet explicare." The wind around them picked up as Cupid and Zatanna chanted love from love and mind from mind, let their souls now unwind. The alter below their hands began to glow as if something divine was forming beneath them. Cupid smiled to herself, momentarily surprised that the spell was working. "Venite et partem animae, ut sit amor sui." The angel chanced a glance over at the party of three. She could see the outline of a red string forming around each of them. Levi and Rachel's met somewhere in the middle and Lucifer's continued onward for what seemed like forever, connecting him all the way to Chloe back in Los Angeles.

Cupid continued the chant and the glow from the alter crawled up her arm until her whole body was now glowing too. The wind was picking up speed, knocking the plans in the greenhouse all around like a mini tornado, but the effects of this tornado weren't felt inside the protective circle. As long as everyone stayed inside the circle, they would be unharmed. The same could not be said for her plants. Even the forever flowers were suffering. Cupid herself felt like she was being battered around as she continued the spell. Her energy was waning as she poured everything she had into this. "Ne liberi amore sit, non est in vincula! she finished, gasping as she let go of Zatanna's hands.

The glow around Cupid quickly receded back into the alter. As her eyes adjusted, she smiled. Sitting there on the alter was a pair of golden scissors that hadn't been there before. "Holy shit..." she grinned.

"Is that a holy shit it worked? Or holy shit we're in trouble?" Lucifer asked, as he glanced over his shoulder at Cupid. Based on the level of destruction outside the protective circle, he hoped it was the former and not the latter. Even with all the divine power given to them, he could see Cupid and Zatanna were in rough shape. They wouldn't be able to do this again.

"It worked," Cupid smiled as she leaned over the alter and took a shaky breath. Zatanna came over to steady her, but the magician was just as shaky. They'd both expanded so much energy into the spell, but Cupid knew the work wasn't done. "I'm okay," she assured Zatanna. The angel of love grabbed the Golden Scissors off the alter and made her way over to the trio. "The strings here..." she indicated. "They're called Red Strings of Fate. In order to free you, I have to cut them. I dunno what it's gonna feel like, but odds are its going to be unpleasant. So...that being said, who wants to go first?"

LEVI: when cupid and zatanna began the spell levi kept glancing over at rachel. he trusted the pair to be able to manage the spell, he'd gone on more than one expedition to fetch powerful objects at zatanna's behest so he knew that cupid had enough power to channel... so he couldn't help but worry about rachel not that he would ever not worry. when cupid finished the spell levi looked down, seeing the string between himself and rachel before looking back to cupid as she held the scissors "not that i don't trust you dear, cause i do, but i really hope those three sisters don't show up... they're a little upset with me after a party in athens." he chuckled before looking to rachel "well angel, shall we bite the bullet or let the silly goose go first."

RACHEL: Looked at the at everyone this ritual so far had gone well, she trusted Cupid to know what she was doing and even so the curse affect her realm if anyone could break it, she knew it was her. Part of her was shocked to see the red line come between her and Levi, she'd read many stories that talked about the red line of fate that linked people together and it always sounded so romantic but right now it was something that could be forcing her to love Levi something she hatred with a passion. "I'm not surprised your brilliant both of you" She looked at Zatanna and Cupid nodding her head before turning back towards Levi as Cupid came over towards them with the scissors shaking her head at Levi's silliness "I don't mind going first I'm sure everyone in this room wants this over as soon as possible." She took a breath squeezing Levi's hand for a moment before using her powers to send him a telepathic message. No matter what, hanging out with you has been a highlight these last couple months. You are worth everything in my eyes Levitation, try not to hate me on the other side of this. She mused staring at him giving his hand yet another squeeze. "Any advice about what will happen when these get cut?" She asked Cupid softly

CUPID, ZATANNA, LUCIFER: "Ah, your reputation proceeds you, Levi. Whatcha do? Sleep with them and then not call?" Cupid teased as she held the scissors. She felt a brief surge of power wave through her that she really couldn't control. The scissors in her hands shifted form and became a pair of daggers, then a saw, then a sword, before going back to their scissor form. Shit. She swallowed hard. Gotta stay stable. Deep breaths. Don't fuck this up.

"Cupid..." Lucifer called to her gently. They had visible threads but Cupid was hanging on by a string of her own. If she pushed too far...well, let's just say Lucifer would rather be damned for the rest of his life than deal with the aftermath of a dead Cupid.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured him. She stood tall and as self-assured as she could. Lucifer nodded, and pressed a button on the ear piece he had with him. It connected him to Maze who was in LA with Chloe. He was relieved that it was still functioning despite all the power radiating in the air. He figured it was due to the safety sigils they'd drawn around themselves and the alter. "Alright, Mazikeen. The red strings should be visible now. We're on the final step. Keep me posted," he requested.

"The lore wasn't specific about what's going to happen when I cut this string," Cupid explained apologetically to Rachel. "Whatever you do, stay in the protective wardings until I lift them," she instructed. She wished she could give Rachel more guidance on what was about to happen especially since she was the victim here. Forced to love Levi, what a tragedy. Cupid was still pissed at Levi for how long he kept this from Rachel. He'd come to Cupid for confirmation after Aamon's banishment and yet still at the Masquerade six months later, it seemed like Rachel was none the wiser about forced affection toward him. He hadn't told her until he'd come back from hell...almost 7 months since his suspicions of the curse first arose.

She took a deep breath and held Levi and Rachel's string. She felt the power radiating off of that string. Cupid nodded to Zatanna who was back at the alter now. The magician read off a line of text from Cupid's notes. The red color in the strings slowly started fading to pink. It all seemed to be draining into Cupid. Once the string was a stark white, Cupid brought the Gold Scissors forward with a shaky hand, she took a deep breath in, and on the exhale, she cut Levi and Rachel's string, releasing them from their bond to each other.

Cupid felt weak and nauseous and had to act fast. She looked over at Lucifer who'd been momentarily distracted by the pair's reaction to the cutting of the string, but then he turned to meet Cupid's gaze. It was now or never. He nodded quickly to Cupid. The angel grasped Lucifer and Chloe's string and watched the red color fade rapidly. Once it was a pristine white, Cupid brought the scissors down once more and cut Lucifer's string, freeing the devil from his binds.

RACHEL: She took a deep breath, she could feel her apprehension at finally ending this curse it didn't matter what happened so long as she was in control again. Rae hated feeling this way she couldn't even know her own mind linked to Levi like this, why couldn't anything in her life be simply. She kept her eyes on Cupid very thankful they'd been able to find a way to break the curse but even she could see the amount of power this was taking from Zatanna and Cupid combined. "I understand Cupid its okay, I can bare whatever happened so long as this works" he replied honestly giving the other a soft smile before taking yet another breath when she felt a tug as the other pulled on their string. Everything started to heat up as the the string turned from red to white but she could handle it, whatever was happening it simply was just a reaction to what was going on during the ritual.

When she felt the string cut she couldn't stop the scream of pain the fell from her lips as she doubled over gripping Lucifer's and Levi's hands tighter then normal. Her blood felt like it was one fire, almost as if a fever had taken over her body as punishment for daring to end the tie that God himself put there when she was born. She could feel spasms of pain shaking her cord as she tried hard to stay within the protect circle and not to hurt the others in there with her. She looked up at Lucifer sure there was worry written all over his face "its receding...she'l be okay...." She spoke taking deep breaths staying bent over on her knees just for a moment to catch her breath.

LEVI: as cupid worked her magic levi had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. being away from rachel like this had made him realise that it wasn't just her affected by the curse. levi had been shrugging off his duties and responsibilities because since meeting her his angel had been the only important thing to him... he'd been acting more and more like his father and levi hated that with every fibre of his being. he'd stopped talking to his family as much and had been putting off telling her about the curse, levi hated everything about how this had changed him and he'd started to become the one thing he didn't want to be.

when rachel's grip tightened on his hand he looked down at her, worry all over his features. he dropped lucifer's hand and knelt beside her, helping support her as the magic worked it's way through her. "i got you angel." he whispered to her. if he could, levi would take as much of the pain from her as he could but he'd promised her that he wouldn't do that so he just held her through it. he himself could feel the spell working through his mind, feeling ties he didn't even know were there burn away and the fog lifting from his consciousness. "i'm so sorry you have to go through this. i never meant for any of this to happen." he knew after this he had to go back to hell and let rachel be herself, as much as he wanted to stay he couldn't.

MAZIKEEN: This was a tense night for all of them, but Maze was glad to not be in the same room where they were trying to break the curse. She was just following Chloe from a distance, keeping out of Chloe's sight, but making sure Chloe stayed in hers. It was mostly boring stuff, but it was still important. She perked up a little when the bluetooth device in her ear beeped. She pressed a button, and it connected her back to Lucifer. "I see it," she told him. For now, it looked like Chloe didn't notice the red string attached to her, which was good. Chloe was focused on picking out groceries. She had no idea what was coming for her as Cupid cut the string connecting Lucifer and Chloe.

Chloe dropped what she was holding and screamed in pain. Maze rushed to her side. Chloe had fallen to the ground, and Maze was kneeling down with her, holding her hand. "Hey, I've got you," she said reassuringly.

"Maze?" Chloe asked. "What the hell are-" She clutched her own body with her other free hand as she remembered the pain she was in.

"Lucifer's working on breaking the curse you're under. It'll be okay soon." The pain was a lot for her, which had been obvious just by what Maze had heard from Rachel, but Chloe didn't have the fortune of being part demon. She was all human, and humans were so fragile. The pain became unbearable for her, and even after it stopped, she passed out. Maze checked her pulse, and she seemed fine. Maze guessed that she'd passed out more from fear than from pain. She'd be fine with a little sleep. Maze picked her up and slung her over her shoulder before talking into the bluetooth again. "Chloe's okay. She's just taking a little nap now. I'll take her back to where she's staying and watch over her over the night to make sure she's still okay. How are things on your end, Lucifer? Are you okay?" She didn't like the idea of him going through the same thing, but he was an archangel. He was probably fine.

CUPID, ZATANNA, LUCIFER: Zatanna and Cupid flinched in unison when Rachel screamed, but Lucifer didn't have time to react before Cupid was already cutting his string. He felt a burning in his core as if ties were rapidly stripped away. It didn't hurt necessarily, but it didn't feel good either. He felt naked. Not in your usual Tuesday orgy kind of way, but in a vulnerable kind of way.

He flinched when he heard Chloe's screams of agony on the other end of the line. He couldn't be there with her to check in on her and comfort her as Levi was doing for Rachel now, but he trusted Maze. Then the screaming stopped and his heart dropped to his stomach. He let out a sigh of relief when Maze replied that Chloe was okay. She must've just passed out from the pain. Lucifer himself was surprised Rachel was still standing, but she was part demon so that gave her some advantage. "We're okay..." he replied hesitantly to Maze. He looked around at Rachel and Levi for confirmation. They both seemed okay, but Lucifer didn't know if there would be after shocks.

Zatanna knelt down beside Rachel who looked pale and gaunt but was otherwise still breathing. Zee muttered a quick healing spell before nodding to Cupid to finish off the spell. Cupid returned to the alter and took a deep breath. She felt absolutely electrified and not in a good way. The curse was broken but a lot of the residual energy from it still hung within Cupid and she needed to dump it all somewhere. This meant she had to create a cursed object. She picked up one of the large, stuffed teddy bears that were commonly sold during this season and placed him on the alter. "Sorry, Teddy Roosevelt. This hurts me as much as it hurts you." Cupid placed her hands on the alter on each side of the bear. Cupid began to glow once more, this time a light pink. The pink glow drained out of her and into the teddy bear. Once the light completely disappeared, Cupid lost consciousness and dropped to the floor beside the alter.

Lucifer ran over to Cupid to check on her. She was still breathing, but she was weak. The final part of the spell had taken everything out of her. Lucifer glanced at the teddy bear and then back at Zatanna. "Don't touch the bear," she ordered. She walked over to the alter and put on a pair of enchanted gloves. They would keep her safe while handling the bear. Gingerly, she picked it up and placed it inside one of her top hats. She would be able to take it to Michael and have him destroy the remaining energy. "Is she okay?" Zee asked Lucifer as she glanced at Cupid.

"Physically, yes? Emotionally...she's about to miss her date." Lucifer used whatever strength he could muster (which wasn't much at this point, he was beyond exhausted) to pick Cupid up off the ground. "If you lift the protection wardings, I can get her back to Belphegor's place."

Zatanna nodded. "Alright, kids. Brace yourselves." Zatanna took a deep breath and held out her hand. Her eyes began to glow a soft blue as the sigils on the ground burned away. It felt like a bubble had burst around them the moment the wardings were lifted. The entire greenhouse was cluttered and in disarray as if a storm had blown through it while they were doing the spell. Zatanna staggered backward, but grabbed onto Lucifer's shoulder for support. She herself felt very weak now that the wardings were lifted.

"Not to be the bear of bad news, Ms. Zatara, but I think you're about to miss your date too. Levi..." Lucifer looked over his shoulder at his brother. "Can you get Ms. Zatara and Ms. Roth home or would you like me to call one of my demons?"  

RACHEL: Rachel heard Chloe scream almost in time with her voice she wasn't sure why she was still standing if anything she blamed her demon half, this took so much out of her she felt tired and weak. She barely register Levi or Zatanna coming down to her. She all but clung to Levi not trusting her legs or body to support her weight after what she'd been through. She watched the rest of things through a haze of tiredness laying her head on Levi's chest "its better this way" She whispered back feeling her head clean through the love haze that used to be there, it was a good thing this pain, it would help her in the long run.

Her eyes snapped open when she felt and heard the sigils began to burn away freeing them at long last, everything seemed different now but she could see how tired everyone in the room was moving to grab Zatanna's hand pulling her close to Levi and herself. "I'm sorry You both missed your dates for us, I really do appreciate everything you've both done."  She replied honestly turning an eye to Levi "I'd prefer if you took us...if you aren't too busy Levi....I don't wish to show my weakness to unknown demons.." She asked before shooting a wincing look at Lucifer "No Offense intend"

LEVI: he nodded "just hold on to that angel. it'll pass." levi kept rubbing soothing circles on her back as she worked through it. he looked over his shoulder at his brother meeting his eyes and giving him a nod that he was alright... well as alright as he could be given the circumstances. i'm going home after this... rachel needs to be herself without me around. levi thought to lucifer, not wanting to break the news to rachel with everyone around.

"i have nothing but time for you angel, i'd be happy to get you and ms. zatara home." he smiled softly at her before standing up and holding out his hand to help her up as well as offering one to zatanna "if she doesn't mind that is." levi joked and turned back to lucifer "i'll make sure they get home safe and sound. tell bells i'm sorry for stealing cupid away from their date."

CUPID, ZATANNA, LUCIFER: Lucifer nodded at Levi's message. He understood where his brother was coming from. He hoped for Levi's sake he didn't stay in hell for too long. It was easy to stay down there and try to ignore the impact of all of this. While the curse made Lucifer weary of all of his connections potentially being coercive, it had a different impact on Levi. It made him hyper focused on his relationship to the point where he forgot everyone else. Going to hell wouldn't fix the isolation he'd caused himself. It would just make things worse. When the dust settled, Lucifer would go down to hell and try to talk him out of it. 

Zatanna was disappointed she'd miss her date, but she didn't have energy for much else. Despite her exhaustion, she could see the resolute look on Levi's face. He wasn't coming back. That in and of itself was going to hurt Rachel in the coming days. "You can drop me off first," she told Levi as she took his hand. "You and Rachel probably need to talk." If he really was leaving, she wasn't going to let him just ghost Rachel. He needed to tell her he was going and Zatanna knew he needed to do that with some sense of privacy. 

"Safe travels," Lucifer nodded to the three of them. He watched as Levi teleported himself, Rachel, and Zatanna out of the greenhouse. Lucifer stood with Cupid in his arms for a moment as he looked around the mess they'd created. "I'm sorry, Cups," he replied as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He knew she couldn't hear him but he really was sorry. Not just about the condition of her greenhouse or her missed date, but about everything that had happened since she found about about Belphegor's void. The trauma was fresh for everyone in those days and the change in Cupid was gradual. He'd watched her innocence and softness disappear slowly as a result of Belphegor's curse. "We'll fix it," he promised. And with that, he teleported out of the greenhouse and took her back to Belphegor's apartment. / END

[dramaticsnakes]

The Revived - Chapter 2: Connected

This is chapter 2 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @rainbowbutterfrosting​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

Thank you to @ r0w3n-1n-d0ugh for beta-reading this chapter.

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Technoblade

Word count: 3268

Cw: arguments, yelling, insults, miscommunications, recklessness, mentioned suicidal behavior, cursing, mentions of crying, mentions of food, jokes about drugs

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

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

Wilbur had barely acknowledged his surroundings until they’d made it to the house, tucked in among the mountains and the snow. Once Phil opened the door, Wilbur groggily wandered inside, recognizing the smells, and the familiar furniture, that had changed quite a bit, but still held the same atmosphere somehow. Wilbur didn’t have a home, but this house with all the strained emotions and uncomfortable attachments related to it, was probably the closest he would get. For now, of course, because Wilbur had plans, even if he couldn’t think of them at that moment.

As they entered the home, Phil turned to Wilbur, with narrowed eyes, wrinkling his nose. “No offense, mate, but your eye bags are deeper than the hole of L'Manburg. When have you last slept?”

"Haha, good one," Wilbur said, absentmindedly taking his first steps up the stairs.

Phil had hesitated, his eyebrows furrowed. "Wil, please tell me you've had some kind of sleeping schedule since you've returned."

"And I wished I had a house when I returned back here, we don't always get what we want." Wilbur had responded with a shrug, because it didn’t matter, really. Wilbur was alive, and he didn’t have to count the days anymore. He stumbled, grabbing the nearest stationary object he could reach to prevent himself from falling on the stairs. Phil sent him a concerned look.

Before he knew it, Wilbur had found himself in a room with a little bed that he wished wasn’t as appealing as it was. The mattress was soft, accompanied by the sheets, and Wilbur was brutally reminded that he hadn’t truly seen a bed for thirteen and a half years. Soon, he was tucked underneath a duvet and felt himself drifting off into a dreamless slumber, which was far better than the nightmares he’d half-expected.

He woke up to a plate of food, sat up, and ate a few bites before he fell asleep again. He wasn’t certain how much time had passed whenever he dared open his eyes. He should get up! He should face the world he’d been denied for so long, but getting up meant so many things. He had so little time to finish his work, though the darkness called to him, like a friend he never wanted to leave.

And the voice was there too, unfortunately, whenever he woke up. The cries, the whines, and the words that became clearer and clearer. Wilbur held his eyes open for a long time, as if he was in a staring contest with the ceiling, as the cries refused to settle. “Ugh, would you shut up for one second.” he groaned.

When the cries immediately ceased, Wilbur tensed up.

“You can��� You can hear me?” was all Wilbur heard now, and he stayed completely silent. “Please.” the voice added after a short while, “It’s so lonely here.”

Wilbur almost feared his heart had stopped once again before he whispered: “Ghostbur…” it wasn’t a question, nor a statement. He wasn’t certain what it was, but perhaps he shouldn’t have said it.

“Yes!” the voice said, giggling with more relief than Wilbur had ever heard from anyone else, “It’s me, Ghostbur! And you’re Alivebur, right?”

“Alivebur?” Wilbur chuckled to himself, “I’m certainly alive, but I typically go by Wilbur.” If Wilbur could hear someone smile, he would describe it as the sound of Ghostbur’s voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry! It’s been a while since I’ve talked with anyone… Gets quite lonely here. Hey, where are you?”

“Phil’s upstairs. Maybe you weren’t here often. He had to make a bit of room up here since he didn’t expect my arrival.”

Minutes went by without a response from Ghostbur. Just as Wilbur was about to ask if he was still there, he heard the friendly voice again, “But… I’m sorry but this doesn’t make much sense to me. I- I’ve been to Phil’s house, and this doesn’t look like a house of any kind.”

Wilbur made a confused noise. “I don’t know if ghosts are constantly on weed or some other shit, but it’s pretty live laugh and love in here. Spruce shelves with some nicknacks and those little windows halfway covered in snow. Hey- I just realized. The windows are made out of spruce fences because Dad can’t see glass! That’s sorta neat.” Wilbur felt proud of his realization, even if someone else probably realized it before him.

Ghostbur’s voice on the other hand held a slight amount of fear, “Nono, there’s… I’m not really sure what this whole place is. It’s this big cylinder tube. It’s… It’s gray and there’s some benches here, but there’s also this really long tunnel! I tried walking to the end, but I- I don’t think there is one.” Wilbur’s heart dropped when he heard that. “Ghostbur… brown benches with some shitty lights in the ceiling?”

“Yes!” Ghostbur let out a soft gasp, “Have you been here before? Are we on some long-distance phone line? I- I don’t see a phone here.”

Wilbur thought for a moment, “It’s… It’s more than a phone line.” He should’ve remembered already, but his head was groggy. The transparent version of him, tears streaming down his face, almost as if they were burning him. The one who took his place on the platform. Wilbur didn’t know how to break the news to his Ghost counterpart. “I think you’re in my limbo.”

Ghostbur giggled, “I love limbo! I’m not very good at it though, whenever I play the pole just goes through me.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes at Ghostbur’s train of thought, “Nono, it’s… a little more serious than that.” Wilbur’s words became more spaced out, trying his best to avoid the actual topic.

“Does the bar actually hit me now?”

Wilbur awkwardly laughed, “No, it’s-” he quietly groaned from frustration, he’d never been good at breaking bad news to someone. “There’s no limbo bar.”

“That’s silly. How are we going to play limbo, with no limbo bar?”

Wilbur sighed, Ghostbur deserved to know, “You’re-”

“I know,” Ghostbur’s words were covered in child-like excitement, “we can just pretend there’s a limbo bar! I’ll go under it first.” There was silence for a few moments. “I did it! Now it’s your turn.”

“Ghostbur, this isn’t some kind of game.”

“It is though! I can’t find a dictionary, but if you try lookin’ in one of those, you-” Ghostbur quietly gasped, “Do you not know how to play limbo? Oh, you poor thing.”

When Wilbur spoke, his voice was louder than he meant it, venom dripping off each syllable, “You’re in prison. You’re never getting out and you’re stuck there!”

The silence that extended between them was louder than Wilbur could ever yell. “Ghostbur, I’m-”

“Wilbur?”

Wilbur jumped from the sudden noise, looking over and seeing Technoblade at the other end of the room. He seemed confused, which Wilbur thought must’ve been from the thought of him being alive and well, but it didn’t take him long to realize it must’ve been from talking- and yelling- to himself. 

“Is Techno with you?! How is he?” Ghostbur excitedly squealed. Not now, Wilbur responded in his head, but Ghostbur must’ve not been able to hear it as he rambled off other questions. Through his babbling, he could hear mentions of Tubbo and Ranboo, but most of it was muddled together from Ghostbur’s cheerfulness. 

“Hi, Techno!” Wilbur said too loudly. “How are you? I uh- hope you’re- it’s all going well.”

Techno raised an eyebrow, “I, uh… I guess it is. You’re back and stuff.”

Wilbur nodded, “Yeah, yeah I am.” 

Ghostbur jumped in, “Techie, it’s been forever! What adventures have you been up to?”

A rough silence extended between the three, time feeling more present by the second.

Ghostbur chuckled and whispered, “I think Tech is ignoring me like you were.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes which only made Technoblade even more suspicious of the newly revived man in front of him. 

“You alright? Phil told me you nearly died from hypothermia. Probably not the best way to reunite with your father.” Techno snorted quietly.

Ghostbur’s voice turned sadder, “But, I- that didn’t happen. I saw it myself, Phil gave you an enchanted golden apple and you guys hugged. Nothin’ bad happened, you did look a little uncomfortable though.”

That caught Wilbur slightly off guard, though he couldn’t quite respond properly or ask for more information. He nodded bashfully, “Yeah… uncomfortable is a word to describe it.”

“Yeah… hey, Phil told me to show you to the portal and stuff. He doesn’t want you dying again.” Although Techno didn’t say ‘literally,’ Wilbur could hear it clearly.

“Oh, Don’t worry! I can show him where it is! I’ve followed Ranboo through those portals a few times. He’s really nice. He seemed a little worried last time I saw him though, but Tubbo was there and he was also worried. Maybe we could give him a visit. We can visit both of them!” Wilbur heard quick echo-y claps, presumably from Ghostbur’s enthusiasm.

“Mhm, sounds like a plan.”

“Great…” Techno said, and Wilbur started to notice that there was something hesitant in the other’s posture. Something awkward, and restricted, though Wilbur found it difficult to place why. “Let’s go,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the door, and that was when Wilbur had no choice but to leave the comforting darkness. Perhaps it wasn’t too appealing after all because Wilbur had been alone for so long, so maybe it was time he saw how much the world had changed without him. Wilbur stood up from the bed and followed Technoblade out the door.

“Oh! I guess Techno is taking us to the portal after all. That’s great! Aliv- I mean, Wilbur! Haven’t you missed this place too? Did you even see this place, while you were alive? Did they-”

“Shh,” Wilbur said quickly and harshly, closing his eyes.

“Heh?” Techno said questioningly.

Wilbur’s eyes widened. “Oh, nothing! I was just thinking about something.”

“Thinking about something hush-able?” Techno said with a hesitant smile, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were hearing voices too.”

Wilbur chuckled awkwardly, though he didn’t say anything else on the matter.

He hardly had the time to consider what it was like to see Technoblade again because Ghostbur was certainly an unexpected turn of events. Wilbur had simply assumed that hearing the cries and the begging words had been a side-effect of the revival. One he would get rid of eventually.

Prime, he hoped he could still get rid of it. He wasn’t sure if he could handle all the questions in his own mind, let alone whatever it was Ghostbur was talking about. There had to be a way to break the connection because that was what Wilbur did best. It was getting rid of things once they were a lost cause, and Ghostbur’s situation was a lost cause, wasn’t it? Even if Ghostbur wasn’t quite bright enough to realize it himself.

Wilbur and Techno walked outside, the wind reaching Wilbur’s hair and face pleasantly, making him realize that it was before noon. He wondered for a moment, how long he had slept. Wilbur looked at the surroundings properly, now that he was no longer collapsing from exhaustion. “What’s that place over there?” he asked, pointing towards what looked like a solitary house, nearby Phil and Techno’s.

“Oh. That’s Ranboo’s place,” Techno said. He glanced at Wilbur. “You know Ranboo?”

“I met him briefly,” Wilbur simply said, remembering the moments after his revival. The way Tommy had stared at him with fear, Tubbo looking vaguely concerned, the new face that stood slightly behind all of them, and all the words that didn’t matter, because Wilbur was alive, and this was his sunrise. “What’s he like?”

“He’s good.” Techno said, “I don’t know how long he’s going to stay here though.” 

“What do you mean?” Wilbur asked.

Techno breathed deeply. “He just spends less time here is all.” He shrugged, “It’s not my problem. Plus I don’t think I’m the best choice for filling you in.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s with Tubbo now! I- I’m not very sure though, I just know they make each other very happy.”

Ghostbur had mentioned those names together before. The two stood next to each other, at the sight of Wilbur’s revival. Yet it was still odd to hear this stranger mentioned next to the man Wilbur remembered so clearly. The president of the fallen nation. Wilbur would almost say it was a failed nation, but that wouldn’t be true at all. A failed nation would leave him marked as a nobody. No, L’Manburg made everybody know his name. He even got power for a long while. It was all he could ever ask for.

“Soot?”

Wilbur slightly jumped, from the sudden noise, “Yes?” Techno let out a small laugh, but his eyes were tinted with concern that made it feel like it was supposed to comfort the two of them instead of being a genuine expression. “I’m not the best at conversations but I’m pretty sure that isn’t a yes or no question.”

Wilbur nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, ’m just a bit tired. Sleep works a bit differently when you’re alive. Well- I suppose everything is a bit different. What were you asking?”

“Just if you were gonna stay at Phil’s or if you want a house for yourself. I was uh… offering to help if you needed it.” 

“Awww, Techno is trying to be your friend. He seems all big and scary, but we were pretty close! Well- we never really talked or hung out much, but sometimes I saw him searching through some chests and he seems nice. I tried to offer him some blue, but Tommy said not to. Not sure why though.” Despite the topics he was discussing, Ghostbur’s voice stayed passively happy as Wilbur assumed would be a new norm. Yet, he’d never heard of this “blue” before. Maybe Ghostbur was on drugs after all.

“Actually, that might be pretty nice. I’ll admit L’Manburg was a flop, but my house won’t be! What should we call it? I’ve been thinking about what to call it if I started a new nation., or country, tomato potato, and- I think BimBom sounds neat.” 

Techno glanced back at Wilbur, “BimBom was the best you could do? Look, man- I don’t respect government. Y’know, that’s my main thing. But I wouldn’t even respect a girl-scout cookie organization named that.”

Wilbur pouted, “Hey, you try spending thirteen and a half years alone and come up with good ideas.” His words became sharper near the end, becoming defensive as he subconsciously thought Techno would be on his side.

However, Techno only gave him a confused look, “It wasn’t-” he bit his lip, gave Wilbur a quick contemplative look, and turned away, “Nevermind.”

“Oh no, he’s in a bad mood now. You should apologize,” Ghostbur’s voice whined in his head.

“I-” Wilbur was going to claim that he wasn’t going to apologize, but he realized he couldn’t say that without Techno hearing him.

“Don’t worry, everyone gets a bit tongue-tied. I’ll help you!” If only Wilbur could communicate silently with the ghost. “The first word is ‘I’m’ and the second is ‘sorry.’ Words can be a bit hard sometimes, but I’m sure Tech will accept your apology even if you’re a bit bad at it.”

Wilbur frustratedly sighed. He didn’t know if Techno heard it and was pretending not to, or if he genuinely didn’t hear the exhale, but Wilbur was grateful to not be called out about it. Once enough seconds had passed with what he felt was an expectant look from Ghostbur he mumbled a quick “‘M sorry.” just to get the ghost off his back. He caught a nod of acknowledgment from Techno, and let out another breath.

Simultaneously, Wilbur heard what sounded like a relieved sigh in his head. “There we go.” Ghostbur said, “Good job! You’re getting the hang of it, I think. I don’t like it when people are mad. It’s hard to tell sometimes, but it’s good to try to keep them happy.” there was something strained in the last words, as if they held a hint of something less joyful, that someone attempted to shove out.

“We’re here.” Techno stopped walking, only a few steps away from the nether portal. Wilbur instinctively ran his hand along the border of obsidian, it was cool to the touch, and vibrated with a low hum. “We were planning to make a path, but we always had other priorities too.” Techno explained. 

Wilbur nodded and walked towards the portal, only for Techno to grab his arm and pull him back. “For the love of subscribers, are you an idiot?” He heard Ghostbur mumble something, but he didn’t bother to pay attention.

Wilbur pulled his arm out of Technoblade’s grip, “Have nether portals changed since I was last here?”

Techno snorted, “No, but that’s exactly why you shouldn’t be going yet. I’ve got some armor back at my base, even some golden apples I can spare. Unless you’re-” realization spread across his face, “Oh that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“This-” Techno sighed, “This is just a suicide mission, isn’t it?”

Wilbur made a small step away from Technoblade. “What are you even talking about?”

Techno rubbed his head, he looked like he was trying to relieve a headache of some kind. “Look, I know that it’s supposed to be ‘twice is a coincidence and three is a pattern,’ but…” Techno groaned, “I’m not gonna sugar-coat with you. You were reckless before you died, you thought you could walk into a freezin’ cold biome without anything on you, and I don’t need a third time to realize what you could be doin’.”

Wilbur nodded despite not necessarily agreeing with his claims. Wilbur didn’t want to die anymore, and Wilbur wasn’t going to die. That couldn’t possibly be that hard to understand. “L’Manburg was ages ago and I’m a grown man, I can handle myself.” It wasn’t his strongest argument, but he knew he was right in the end.

“You’re the same grown man that thought he could run a nation with one of your dumb protocols bein’ that you don’t wear armor. You might be able to ‘handle’ yourself, but I feel like you’re gonna do a poor job at it.”

Wilbur’s eyes burned with fire, because while he didn’t care deeply, not really, that didn’t mean it was something that could be brushed off so easily. “It- It wasn’t dumb. L’Manburg was my nation-”

“Surely you aren’t blind. It’s in ruins!”

“It doesn’t fucking matter if it’s in ruins! I’ve done more than you will ever achieve in your whole pathetic life.” He shouted harshly, “All you go on about is how you hate governments and orphans, and it’s because you’re nothing more than that. It’s not my fault that I actually make an impact in this world while you’re up in your stupid house because no one can stand being around you.” Wilbur’s chest was heaving at this point, both of his hands curled up into fists.

Technoblade spat out at Wilbur, “Oh my fucking Blood God, Soot. Fine- I promised Phil that I wasn’t going to let you kill yourself, but if you’re so passionate about blindly throwing yourself at whatever comes your way, then go at it.”

Wilbur practically screamed, “Fine, I will!” and with that, he threw himself into the nether portal and felt the purple wisps surround him so loudly that he couldn’t even hear Ghostbur’s pleas. 

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘This Love Came Back to Me’ Chapter 9: Half Agony, Half Hope

Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

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               They were stuck in limbo. Molly had no idea where they stood. She was leaving all of it up to Sherlock. If they only stayed friends, she’d be okay with that, but there would always be a pang in her chest to remind her something was missing. If he didn’t want to see her again…she felt it could very well kill her inside. Those two options seemed more likely than what she truly desired. She had been clear with him about what she wanted, but he hadn’t said a word. He would be leaving for the airport soon with John and Mary, and nothing else had been spoken on the subject.

               Molly so desperately wanted to fly back to London with them. She loved Galway, but it wasn’t home. In fact, she realised she hadn’t been home in a long time. Home was Sherlock; his heart, his arms, his lips. Her heart practically screamed at her not to let him go. She didn’t want him to leave, but she would gladly go back if he asked. Soon, Sherlock and the Watsons would be swinging by her flat. They had gone and checked out of their hotel, and Molly had offered for them to pass the rest of the time at her place.

               When they did arrive, they kept their luggage by the door, and gathered in the sitting room with her. Molly dragged out Cluedo and the four of them played a quick round. She had bested Sherlock at the game much to John and Mary’s amusement. It wasn’t much longer before it was time for them to take their leave. Sherlock waited until it was just him and Molly left. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, in no real hurry to leave her.

               “Molly…” he sighed, stroking her hair. Why was it so hard for him to say how he felt? It was as if his words were wrapped in barbed wire, unable to escape.  

               She sniffled, knowing they would never be the way they once were. Molly willed herself not to cry as he pulled back to kiss her cheek. She closed her eyes, savoring it, wanting nothing more than to turn her head just enough for their lips to touch. His arms dropped, letting her go, leaving her chilled. “Take care of yourself, Sherlock.”

               He offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll try. You do the same.” Picking up his bag and stepping out the door, he turned his head back to get another glimpse of her face. He had hoped more would be said between them, but he couldn’t get the words to slip out. The only thing that kept him going down the stairs was the fact it wouldn’t be long before he knew for a fact where they stood, having left her a letter she had yet to find. Sherlock knew she loved him, but he also knew that love wasn’t always enough. He knew he’d get his answer before touching down in London.

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               Her flat felt so empty now without her friends—without Sherlock. She decided to pop in a movie in order to get her mind off things. Only twenty minutes in, and she could hardly pay attention. Cluedo was still sitting on the coffee table, so Molly put the lid on it, picking it up to put away, but beneath the box was an envelope with her name on the outside of it written in Sherlock’s hand. She set the game aside on the ground and quite literally took her future in her hands, seating herself back on the sofa to read it. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and retrieved the written words hiding away inside.

Darling Molly,

               I’m afraid words are not my forte…at least not when spoken aloud. I write this to you with love in my heart, of which I have decided to leave with you. If you want it, it is yours—my heart, my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Two years ago, you broke my heart, but I cannot help to think that I am partially to blame. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my work, I would have noticed your worries. I should have tried to contact you, should’ve tried to go see you. I fear I haven’t tried enough, and for that, I am sorry.

               I do not wish to leave Galway without you, but perhaps, it will give you time to think of what you truly want. I know what you said the night before on the beach, but perhaps it is not best to jump right into things like we did the first time. My heart has always been yours. It beats for you, alone. In our time apart, I have loved none but you. I have never given myself to anyone but you.  I know I was callous and cruel; resentful, even. But know it was not due to hatefulness; instead, it was because I hated having to admit to myself that I still loved you despite your actions.

               I welcome these feelings again most fervently. I remain devoted to you, to us. I still burn for you, blazing in the dark. I want to write concertos on your skin with my lips. I ache for you. I miss you. I forgive you. I love you so much. Tell me that it is not too late for us. Come back home to Baker Street, to me. Is ceol mo chroí thú (you are the music of my heart.)

Affectionately yours,

               Sherlock

               Her hand covered her mouth, her breathing ragged as tears slipped down her cheeks. Quickly, she wiped them away and tucked the letter back inside the envelope. She needed to get to the airport as soon as possible. Their flight was due to leave very soon. Though a light rain was falling, she didn’t bother grabbing a coat. Molly slipped on her flats, grabbed her keys, and ran for the door. She threw it open, flew down the stairs and out onto the street. The rain had picked up and goosebumps arose on her skin. She slid on the slick pavement. A pair of familiar arms caught her just as they did in London and set her upright. Her breath caught in her throat.

               Eyes only for her, blue as the sea after a storm, Sherlock Holmes stood before her, soaked to the bone. Relief, desperation, and love were all reflected in his expression. “I couldn’t bear to leave you—not without saying anything. I love you, Molly. I love you so damn much.”        

               Raindrops mixed with her tears, and she smiled, a light laugh escaping her. “Oh, Sherlock, I love you too!” And with a tilt of his head, Sherlock’s lips pressed firmly to hers, one hand at the small of her back whilst the other slid up into her wet hair, cradling the back of her head. She moaned as his tongue slipped in to meet hers, her hands at his back, pressing his body tightly against her. It was all so dizzying. Just moments ago, Molly feared she had lost him forever, and here he was holding her, kissing her, loving her. Sherlock slowed their kisses, exploring her inviting mouth and soft lips tenderly as if getting to know her all over again. He nuzzled his nose against hers with such warm affection. Molly pressed another long, lingering kiss to his lips, pouring her entire heart and soul into it, and it left him breathless.

               Sherlock felt her shiver in his arms and he slid his coat off his shoulders to wrap it around hers. Their foreheads touching for a moment, he smiled, grabbed his bag, and led her back inside. He was happy to know he had made the right decision to get off the plane, but perhaps, not as much as when he realised she had been on her way to find him. For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it would be okay.

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               Her damp hair fanned out over the pillow, Molly’s face brightened when Sherlock appeared in the doorway. He had just changed into his tartan pajama pants, and much to her delight, he hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt. As soon as he slipped into bed beside her, she crawled over to him and kissed him, playfully tugging on his bottom lip. His tongue darted out to lick her lips, teasing her without mercy. “Mmm,” he hummed, kissing her fully, her honeysuckle scent enveloping him—the one he had tried to replicate because he had missed it so much. He was home.

               Goosebumps arose on his skin as her fingertips trailed down his side. He wanted her so much, and his body sensed the familiar press of her against him, his desire stirring. Sherlock felt he could get so lost in her that he might disappear. She sat astride him, leaning over to trail her lips down his neck, and he closed his eyes, giving himself over to the sensation. This time when his heart ached, it wasn’t from being heartbroken, but from being so in love and being loved in return in the same capacity. His quiet moans and sighs pleased her—he could tell by the way she wriggled herself against him.

               Her hands seemed to burn him where they roamed over his skin, no longer cold from the rain. Her hair tickled him as she lowered her head to leave kisses on his chest, making sure she pressed a very tender one over the scar from his bullet wound, and another right over his heart. All he could think was, she loves me so much. Sherlock slid a hand to the small of her back, rubbing circles against her skin with his thumb. With the other, he lightly squeezed her bum and she giggled, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “Cheeky bugger…I’ve missed you.”

               “I’ve missed you too,” he said softly, reaching up to tuck a few damp strands of hair behind her ear. Molly rolled off him and snuggled up to his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Have you read my letter?”

               “I did,” she replied. “It was so lovely, but Sherlock, none of this was your fault.”

               He hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I should have known something was wrong. Observation is what I do—how could I fail to notice such an important detail? Especially after you met with Mycroft. Surely, I should’ve been able to figure that out.”

               Sleepily, she replied, “Despite what you want others to believe, you are only human. What is it you say? ‘There’s always one thing?’”

               Sherlock chuckled. “I suppose you’re right, but I still should’ve called at the very least, even if you didn’t pick up. At least you would’ve known I still cared.”

               “You were heartbroken—calling me was probably the last thing you wanted to do and I don’t blame you for that,” she assured him. “Please don’t blame yourself. You were so good to me. You still are. Thank you for loving me all this time, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Shifting her eyes upward briefly to glance at him, Molly saw the expression on his face, telling her that he knew she was right.

               He gently brushed his fingers through her hair, her words having brought him the comfort he sought. Half-whispering, he confessed the truth of his heart aloud. “I will always love you, Molly.” She smiled sleepily at his declaration, falling asleep not long after. Sherlock carefully reached over to turn out the lamp and wrapped his arm back around her, settling himself in for the first good sleep he’d have in a long time.

[smalltowndetective]

31 for A x detective please 🧡

Hi! Thank you for the request!

31- “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you”

So, this one does need a little explaining. As much as I love this prompt, my main A detective is just as much as an emotionally repressed dumbass as they are (but she is starting to get slightly better haha) and the other detective that I have been writing A with is way too sweet, and one, would never deal with her feelings this way, and two, would never say anything to intently hurt them. So, of course, I borrowed a detective from @lividlyinlove, who fits this prompt much better.

This is my longest request yet, and I hope you like it! And thank you Liv for letting me use your detective! You’re amazing!

Ao3 Link

Title: Give me Something 

Pairing: Adam and Kira (lividlyinlove’s detective)

Words: 3k

Summary: Kira has tried to move on from whatever her and Adam are supposed to be, just to come to the realization- she can’t.

Tags: @lilyoffandoms

She had never met someone who infuriated her so much.

               But she also had never met someone who drew her in like he did.

               Kira had long given up ever figuring Adam out. She had grown tired of the constant back and forth that he took her on, and she wanted to move on from whatever it was. The fleeting attraction that she had, act like it had never happened. Like she knew he would do.

               And goddammit she had tried. Finally accept that he was never going to thaw his icy shell that had formed over the past 900 years, and she was not going to be one to do so for him, even if she wanted to. Only he could so, and he seemed hardly interested in that, preferring to continue to hide whatever was stirring inside of him for the rest of his immortal life.

               Does that drive you crazy Adam? Having to try and figure out what the hell this is for eternity?

               I know it would if it were me

               She had gone on a few dates, a desperate attempt to move on, keeping them a secret from the rest of the team, and while she had internally rationalized that she was doing so in order to keep Felix or even Nate from asking her questions about them, but it was really about Adam. Kira wondered just how he would react if he knew, and while part of her wanted him to feel the confliction from all and maybe just actually say something, but she was not going to push it. At least not yet.

               It’s just some fun, a nice night out. There is nothing serious about them.

               But she was starting to fear that there never would be. Nothing about them made her want to go back on another, as if it was missing something, but what that was, she had no idea.

               All of them have been nice, and most of them are much more open then Adam is, not like that is particularly hard to be.

               What possibly more could you want?

               This is all came into a head after one particular date with a guy from the big city who was staying in Wayhaven for a couple of days.

               She ran into him on her walk to work, and he was nice. He seemed genuinely happy to talk to her, an easy smile never leaving his face, and was not trying to push her away the whole time, doing anything to avoid even seeing her.

               Like a certain someone I know.

               But one thing that drew him to her immediately were his eyes.

               They were a gorgeous green, but unlike Adam’s cold icy eyes, they were dark, as the color of the darkest evergreen forest, the kind that was still just as vibrant even under snow in the bitterest of winters. They were almost soothing to look into, never becoming fraught with hardness, just openness. Kindness. All the things she was not used to.

               He asked her out on a date, laughing as he did so, and told her it was on a complete whim that he did so, but she graciously accepted, already finding him intriguing, so different then what she was used to, almost a night and day difference.

               They went out together the next night, and everything about it was magical. As if was a scene in a movie, sweet and easy, smiles shared between them that she hoped would never die, drinking in all of the things that he told about himself, but she noticed there was some hesitance when talking about herself, but she was not sure why.

               He’s fine talking about himself, why aren’t you?

               It hit her like a slap across her face when she realized that she never had this trouble with Adam, stubborn and annoying as he could be, even with her own fears of vulnerability. He drew things from her anyway, and she could never understand why. It was not like he seemed to care anyway, nor would he ever.

               You are not going to think about him tonight.

               It’s not about him.

               Though she knew that he noticed her suddenly get quieter, he did not say anything about it, but she did the slightest tinge of confusion in his eyes, and Kira focused on keeping a smile on her face to drown it all out. Tonight, was not to mope about a guy who pushed her away whenever they got close. She was going to enjoy herself, make the most of tonight, with a new guy where maybe there could be something more, even if it was too early to tell just yet.

               The date ended with him dropping her off at her apartment, the sun having long set in the horizon, and she noticed that from the bright lights outside the door, his eyes looked paler than they did earlier, and it only reminded her of the person that she was trying so desperately to forget.

               She almost pushed him away at the sight, being confronted with the sudden rush of guilt, though she was not sure why.

               You’re not his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re cheating on him.

               Then why does it feel like I am?

               But she put that out of her mind, and as the pair continued to gaze at each other, as if they were the only two people in the world, she felt herself move forward, and their lips met in a kiss.

               It was not a long kiss, but there was sweet feeling there all the same, but then she could see Adam’s green eyes in her mind, and just for a second, she allowed herself to imagine if it had been him, and felt her pulse race at the thought, and she pulled him closer to her, forgetting all about who it actually was and allowing herself to imagine.

               And for a few precious seconds, it almost seemed true, her wildest dreams that she had longed pushed away.

               But that illusion could not last forever.

               When Kira opened her eyes back up, and as she stared into her date’s eyes, his eyes still as gentle and open as they had been all night, horror started to fill her, and she could feel her stomach drop in dread.

               What are you doing?

               This isn’t fair to him.

               It’s not his fault he’s not the one you want him to be

               She pulled back from his touch immediately, freaking herself out over everything that was happening, his hands starting to shake.

               “Kira, are you alright?”, she heard him say, worry filling his features, “Did I- “

               “No”, she stated firmly, “You did nothing wrong. This is all my doing”

               He opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off, “I’m sorry”

               She entered her apartment after that, guilt filling her stomach, and as soon as she closed the door behind her, she sank to the ground, burying her face in her hands, trying hard not to let the frustrated tears spill down her cheeks.

               Why can’t he leave my head?

               I want to move on, finally accept that he’s never going to admit anything for the rest of his immortal life.

               But I can’t.

               She was tired of all of this, this confusing mess of feelings. Kira wanted it all to end, stop pining after someone who would never give in to what she knew they both wanted deep down. For everything that he did that had just hurt the both in the end, even if he would never admit that.

               Damn it, she had even kissed Bobby. Her absolute scumbag of an ex, because she had been hurt. She knew that she should have not have, but when he leaned in closer to kiss her, she kissed him back, needing anything to get off her mind off eavesdropping on Adam and Nate’s conversation after the carnival. Him admitting that he felt nothing, when her own mind was such a mine field on confused emotions affected her more then she expected it to.

               “But you do have those feelings?”

               "No, I do not."

               Kira had been trying to avoid crying the whole ride home back to her apartment, and when she finally got home, she was far too drained and hurt to even refuse Bobby’s offer to come in, even if about every rational part of her told herself it was a horrible idea for a countless number of reasons.

               It was a definite moment of weakness from her, and one that she knew that he would shove back in her face more likely sooner then later, and as much as she regretted, she was not sure if that she could go back, she would be able to do anything different then what she had done.

               Maybe that spoke to her own maturity, but she could hardly care.

               How else was I supposed to react?

               She could not just keep finding other people to put her heartbreak on, trying to make them into someone they were not, since molding someone into you want them to be, breaking apart what made them special in the first place was the last thing she wanted to do.

               How long is this going on?

               Will months, even years, past, and I’ll still feel like this?

               A painful thought entered her brain, of her meeting someone, it all seeming to be working out, but sometimes, there would be times when all she would see was someone that she was trying so hard to get over.

               They say moving on is the hardest part.

               But will I ever actually ever be able to?

               Or will I be stuck in this never-ending limbo forever?

               There was no way she was going to have another night like this again, as tempting as it might be. It was not fair to the other person, to have someone who was pinning for someone else, and no matter who it was, they deserved better then that. Her date tonight deserved better than that.

               Should I apologize?

               Should I explain the situation?

               What would I even say?

               Kira resigned herself to the fact that there was nothing that she could say that would even make sense at all to anyone except herself, and she knew that it was best to part ways before anything became too out of hand.

               I suppose for him, it’s lucky that it happened tonight

               It’s a lot less of dragging him along with my own hurt feelings, while I try to desperately find some semblance of a person that he is not.

               Shaking the night out of her brain, she got up from off the guard, and she walked through her apartment to go ahead and head to bed, even though she knew she was going to be awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, hoping this would all go away.

               She heard the soft padding of footsteps and the light clicks of a collar, and she barely made out her miniature schnauzer Wolfgang in the dark, his already black coat besides the small white patch on his chest making him almost invisible in the dark. He normally would have been asleep at this time of night, so she was surprised to see him still awake.

               “Hey bud”, she said as he padded the side of her bed as I plea to get up, and she reached over to pick him up and set her on top of the bed with her, “Everything’s kind of a mess right now, isn’t it?”

               Kira ran her hands down his thick coat, scratching behind his ears as he settled into a crook in her bed, the motion soothing her brain slightly, “At least you’re still here. You don’t make things complicated”

               She could swear she almost saw him a slight of a nod of his head on the dark, and she chuckled at the sight of it, and she settled back down on her bed, and even though sleep never called her, her mind still too overactive to even try and figure out anything, it was calming none the less, even if she still had no idea at what to do.

               I feel like if I do fall asleep, I’ll dream, and I don’t think I want to.

               Before she knew it, she could hear her alarm go off on her phone, and she had not gotten a wink of sleep the whole time. She was tired, her eyelids feeling heavy but she would still not allow herself to sleep, and knowing that she would have to start her day regardless, she dragged herself out of bed, realizing she needed to go by the warehouse this morning.

               But there was a pit of dread in her stomach as she realized she was going to have to see Adam today.

               Why are you so worried about this?

               It’s not like he’s not avoiding you right now anyway.

               Sighing, she got up to get ready for today, trying hard to ignore the dark circles that had formed around her eyes.

               I look like an absolute wreck.

               Congrats, me.

               She pulled her clothes on, filling Wolfgang’s dog bowl before leaving, making sure he had everything he needed before she had to leave. She normally would eat breakfast, but she was still not feeling normal after last night, so she ended up leaving anyway.

               This is all such a mess.

               It did not take her long to make her way to the warehouse, and the first thing that Kira noticed was that Adam was standing outside, staring at the horizon as she drove up the warehouse.

               What is he doing out here?

               I know well enough he’s not waiting for me

               “Detective Eveli”, he remarked as she walked up to him.

               She fought hard to suppress the growl in her throat. It was not fair how at the second they were seeming to be getting closer, he would just push her away again, and this forced formality he had insisted on using was starting to grate on her, almost making her skin crawl.

               It was strange to her why she was getting so upset now, but after last night, she was a shell of repressed emotions, and they were threatening to overspill on any person that dared talk to her today.

               Shame (or perhaps not) that had to be the person that all of this was about in the first place.

               “It’s Kira, Adam”, she spat out, her blue eyes holding his eyes in a glare, “You might as well have the decently to use it”

               “I find that rather unnecessary”, he replied, the faint echoes of a scowl filling his face.

               “After everything that has happened, I think it’s quite necessary actually”, she said back, “It’s the least you could do”

               “I fail to see what you mean”, he almost whispered, almost hesitant, turning his head to face away from her, and she could not tell if he was truly ignorant or was feigning it.

               “You’re still going to act like this?”, she demanded, “Like nothing was going on between us?”

               She was not sure why she asked such a question, or what had even compelled her to ask it, but she hardly cared at the moment. After everything that was going through her brain, he had to at least share all of this in her head. She refused to think she was the only one struggling with this.

               “There was nothing”, he growled, but the sudden hesitance in his eyes that he worked hard to bury said otherwise.

               “I can’t believe you, you know that”, she huffed out, crossing her arms almost subconsciously, “We hold hands once and then you act like you can’t be around me anymore”

               Frustration just rose in her voice as he refused to answer, instead noticing that he swallowed hard, “I don’t understand any of this more then you do, you know that? I should have done what you told me to do and save Sanja, but goddammit, Adam, I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you when you needed me”

               Kira felt the sting of tears at the edge of her eyes, and she fought hard to keep them from streaming down her face, as much as they begged her to, “I’m sick of all of this. I can’t take it anymore. You can’t keep drawing me in and then pushing me back out. It’s not fair”

               She took a shuddering breath, and she finally dared herself to look back at Adam, who was unsurprisingly, looking away from her, his shoulders tighter than she had ever seen them before. He looked more like a statue then he normally did.

               “I’ve tried to move on, you know”, she whispered, and his head snapped back to look at her, and the sudden intense gaze almost made her forget what she wanted to say, “Finally accept you’re never going to let your walls down. But it keeps me coming back to the ugly truth, a truth that I’ve been hiding from myself for so long”

               “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you”

               “Kira…”, Adam breathlessly whispered, and she could feel her hands clench, and she looked back into his eyes, narrowing her own.

               “You’re going to use my name now, huh?”, she scoffed, “Or are you just coming to go back after this? Speak now, or forever hold your peace”

               When he did not deign to reply, she could feel her shoulders slump, but she tried to hide it, “Of course. See you later I guess”

               She then walked to the door of the warehouse, the tears in her eyes starting to break through as she turned away from Adam and walked inside, wondering what can compelled her to say what she did in the first place.

               But it doesn’t matter now, and it never mattered

               Nothing is ever going to change.

               No matter what you say, no matter how much you beg.

               Nothing is ever going to change.