#and literally less than 2 months later she passed away

[neverbeforeandneversince]

just found out that my therapist passed away this morning 💔🙏🏼

[wickedscribbles]

if i get too loud you can shut my mouth: ch. 1

Masterlist Ch. 2 Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: descriptions of violence, excessive swearing, fourth wall breaks, yearning, bridgerton season 3 spoilers, sexual tension

Word Count: 2.4K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

It feels like it took them ten years to get here.

In reality, it was a little less than half a year, but still – fuck.

Wade might not be two hundred years old, enduring some endless drag of time like Logan has, but he knows that every day spent orbiting one another and pretending like things weren’t boiling with unspoken tension was agonizing. Seeing Logan in those fucking flannels was agonizing. Watching him doze off on the couch. Catching the way his face softened when he smiled, ruffling Mary Puppins’ ears.

It was all such a pain in the ass.

(Thankfully, not literally, this time. Al would kill him if he brought another fight into the apartment. Even if she couldn’t see bloodstains all over the carpet, she’d sure as hell know when she stepped on one.) And Wade understood – really he did. He could see through Logan’s prickly act the second he met him in that bar. Even with what they’d been through to save the current timeline they now both resided in, Logan felt some deep-rooted urge to distance himself from people. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else. Didn’t think he had it in him to lose anyone he got close to again. That kind of cycle was hard to break.

They saw one another at the occasional get-together, now held at Al and Peter’s place. With Wade throwing himself back into mercenary work and the money getting better, that meant things inevitably getting more dangerous, so now he bunked in a one bedroom with the only girl in his life willing to put her tongue down his throat every hour of the day. That girl also sometimes threw up after eating her kibble too fast in the morning, but hey. We all have our problems.

But if Wade ever tried to hang around when the night was winding down – or if he extended an invitation to just Logan – things got sketchy. He’d always mutter some excuse about work – the old man was getting his hands dirty as a mechanic, apparently, but Wade had his resources and heard more than a few stories about the Wolverine cropping up as the months passed.

And Wade can feel it. That pulling away, that distance. Whether it’s there because Logan actually feels any sort of sense of connection between them, or because he can’t stand Wade and wants him to leave him the fuck alone, Wade can’t really tell. When he’s not in a fight, Logan’s so fucking quiet. Keeps to himself so much.

He tries not to push. The whole thing with Vanessa went south again, fast. Because he either pushes too hard, or not enough, and fuck if he can ever find a solid in between.

Spring slides into summer, sweltering.

Wish we could just walk around in a g-string when it’s fuck me degrees out here, right?

Wade sends the text to Logan one insufferable July afternoon, crouched in an abandoned warehouse. He never expects a reply. The man doesn’t exactly give off “knows how to text” energy. But hours later, his phone vibrates.

You’re nasty

Wade grins. “Exactly, big guy.”

A stupid, eager part of him can’t help but hope a little harder, after that. He could’ve just ignored the text entirely. But this was something.

He digs in his heels, thinking of anything and everything to hound the man about throughout his day.

You ever think about what these goonies are jerking it to before you cut their heads off?

Stupid shit, totally off the top of his head.

Still hotter than absolute shit, is this why you only go out in the suit at night? Think I can feel my balls boiling

Sometimes he’d get an answer, sometimes not. Either way, it was typically a short response. (Thank fuck he didn’t text like a boomer – Logan was hot, but that might have been the end for Wade’s boner regardless.)

Puppins says she misses you :(

(Don’t tell her but you’re nicer to cuddle with)

Nothing to that one. Alone in his apartment, he sighs. Mary Puppins groans her sympathy and snuggles closer into his chest.

—---------

A little over a month later, there’s an urgent knock on the door.

More like a banging.

Cops is Wade’s first half-awake thought as he slings himself out of bed, already gripping the first gun he can get to. He stashes it in the pocket of his fuzzy ducky-patterned bathrobe, getting to the peephole.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

This is somehow worse than cops.

Wade unlocks the door and Logan pours himself in, dominating the frame and almost stumbling to get inside. His eyes are wild, skin glistening with sweat. He still wearing that stupid fucking flannel, light brown and dark blue, the sleeves pushed up to the elbow like he’s personally asking Wade to fuck him.

He huffs out a few heavy breaths, blinking at the hush of Wade’s apartment like he isn’t quite understanding it.

“Hey, princess,” Wade offers up to break the silence. “You, uh, coming over for the weekly rewatch of Bridgerton? I mean, I already skipped to the good parts, but we can always –

Logan’s hand closes over his windpipe so fast that the rest of the sentence vanishes in a wheeze. Pleasure blooms somewhere in the back of Wade’s brain, and he’s almost certain that he’s hard as he’s backed up against the refrigerator. Puppins only raises her head from the dog bed to look between them, her tail wagging frantically.

“What the fuck,” Logan grits out. “You called me.”

He sort of had. After a few ignored texts, Wade’s thumb had fumbled the CALL button. There’d been a mild rush of panic before the usual tossing and turning that led him to sleep. To be honest, he didn’t even think Logan would catch that. And he definitely didn’t think that it would lead to a pissed off Wolverine storming his living space at 2 a.m.

“Sure did,” he says cheerfully, once the fingers around his throat loosen somewhat. Wade holds up his hands, trying to look innocent. “Butterfingers. My mistake, peanut.”

A maelstrom of emotions flit over Logan’s face in an instant. He drops Wade, his expression settling on something that the other man can’t read. At last he shakes his head, sighing, and turns back to the door.

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, then, I’ll just…”

Dude looks like a fucking kicked puppy. A tired kicked puppy that’s lived longer than most people would care to.

“Aww, c’mon,” Wade urges.

It’s hard to look sexy with a face like his, but he splays himself back against the fridge, bathrobe falling back a little to reveal what’s definitely still hard in those boxer shorts.

“When’s the last time we really hung out, huh? Mano a mano? Not since the potential end of the world – we really could watch Bridgerton, you know.”

Wade doesn’t miss the quickest flick of Logan’s eyes down to his crotch. Ohoho. Gotcha, bub.

“I don’t even know what the hell that is,” Logan growls, folding his arms.

His body language says arghhh no I’m so grumpy, don’t touch me, but his eyes are telling Wade everything he needs to know. They’re kind of nice, when he isn’t glaring at something. You know what he’s got? He’s got the deep brown eyes of a Golden Retriever.

And Wade wants to pet that puppy.

“Puppy play? Before we’ve even kissed? Girl you nasty,” Wade says out of nowhere, turning to an obscure corner of his apartment.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

Wade clears his throat, pushing his chest forward somewhat.

“Anyway. Puppins loves a good period romance but we can put on whatever, if you want to stay.”

Please stay.

“What do you normally watch when you’re lurking in your apartment after a long day at the shop?”

He delivers the end of that sentence with a light Southern twang. Logan doesn’t seem to appreciate it, but he relaxes ever so slightly. Swallows. Fuck. Wade can smell the work on him too, the grease and sweat of a long day. Gasoline. There’s a smudge right under Logan’s left eye, and he really, really wants to close the distance and touch the mark. Not knowing if doing so would temporarily lose him a couple of fingers, Wade stays where he is.

“...Home Improvement,” Logan says finally.

“Jesus Christ, you would,” Wade scoffs out. “I mean that as a compliment, sweetheart – if you looked me in the eye and told me you watched Dance Moms I would keel over, regeneration or no.”

It’s clear that Logan has no fucking clue what Dance Moms is either, and maybe that’s for the best. He shuffles from foot to foot, still seeming to be stuck between wanting to stay or go.

“It’s late. I should probably –”

“Wait,” Wade interrupts. “Wait. Can I just – ask something?”

Logan gives him a little shrug, like I think you’re going to anyway, so go for it.

He hesitates, biting at a thumbnail. There’s blood underneath it, and probably not his own. With a grimace, Wade lowers it again.

“What are we doing? With the texting and the avoiding and the –?” He moves his hands around in gentle circles. Logan doesn’t quite meet his eye, but Wade isn’t finished yet. “Y’know, you save the timeline with a guy, get niiiice and cozy in the back of a Honda Odyssey –”

Logan turns a shade of pink that they both know can’t be contributed to anger. “Listen, pal – when you’re fighting sometimes that just happens –”

“Oh, okay, buddy,” Wade continues, grinning. “I know it does, believe me, I’ve been as hard as vibranium for many a fight. But I’ve never curled up next to the guy who’s trying to kill me afterward and woken up with their lips on my forehead.”

It’s all true. After truly destroying his variant’s Honda Odyssey, Wade and Logan had finally exhausted themselves into a state of sleep. And even though he’d found himself restrained by a truly impressive seatbelt arrangement, he’d come to with the heat of the other man’s body pressed fully against his own.

Holding his breath, not daring to move a muscle, Wade had peeked out of one eye to confirm it. Yes, that was the Wolverine acting as his little spoon. Minutes or perhaps hours passed before Logan shifted in his sleep, his bottom lip pressed sloppily against the top of Wade’s head. His breath was warm there. Something about the comfort of that lulled him back to sleep.

Of course, he hadn’t dared breathe a word of that. They had important shit to do and a runtime of only two hours and seven minutes.

Oh, Wade fucking adores putting that look on Logan’s face. Even better with the tinge of pink to match. How many people can say that they’ve made the Wolverine blush? Well, how many living people?

“Shut up,” Logan splutters.

“No can do, princess,” Wade says, grinning wide. “I think we both know the truth when we hear it. Even if it’s hard. Not that that’s the only thing that’s hard around h –”

This time, Wade sees Logan coming and ducks. The door of his refrigerator crumples inward with a metallic sound, things tumbling around inside as they fall.

“Fuck, I just got that, you animal!” Wade complains as he watches the LED screen on the side of the thing crackle and die. He fumbles for the gun in his robe, unsure of whether or not he’ll need it. “Do you know how much a smart fridge costs?!”

Logan’s still coming after him, claws unextended but his face a storm. “Why do you need a TV on your fucking fridge?!”

“To watch Colin and Penelope make sweet, beautiful love after three seasons of sexual tension!”

He weighs up his options. If Logan wants to make this a fight, he can’t start with the gun. Better to have some sort of melee option so the rest of the building doesn’t panic – his tableside lamp is looking like the best way to go right now, even if it was a steal at the local thrift place and gives the whole place a beautiful ambiance.

But shit, he forgot that Logan is lightning fast as well as strong. The whole fucking package. One wrist caught in another iron tight grasp, then the other, and he finds himself being dragged to the nearest wall. Pinned there.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, Logan’s face close enough to lean in and touch. That smear of grease on his cheek. The crow’s feet around his eyes. His mouth. Fuck.

“We can’t,” Logan says, his voice softer than Wade’s ever heard it.

“You’re gonna say that to me while pinning me to the fucking wall? I–”

“Listen to me, jackass,” Logan cuts him off.

Fuck, he’s so warm. He’s like a radiator. If Wade could only lean in. He’s begging at this point.

“I don’t – it’s not that I haven’t thought about –”

“My succulent body meat?” Wade suggests.

“Shut the fuck up.” He sighs, exasperated. (Wade’s dick feels that way too. How much exposition can an author shove into one fanfiction before two characters actually fuck each other, Jesus Christ?) “I’ve thought about this. But you’ve got people, and you’ve already risked your life and mine to keep ‘em safe. I don’t wanna mess that up again.”

“A noble thought,” Wade concedes. “However, if anything does threaten my oh-so-treasured loved ones, you know I’ll be right there to kick that threat’s ass, right? And that being so horny for you twenty-four/seven is severely impacting my quality of life? The vet’s saying he might have to put me down.”

The tiniest smile tugs at the corner of Logan’s mouth. He ducks his head as he does, something shy and young about it. Something hot blooms in the bottom of Wade’s stomach, and for once, it’s not the ache of sex and need. It’s the major fucking crush he has on this man. Although, at this point, he is also so hard it hurts.

Logan’s eyes flit down again, noticing that particular fact when it jumps against his thigh.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Wade.”

“Not Jesus Christ, my friend. Marvel Jesus.”

“Yeah, no one ever said that but you.”

Logan leans in and kisses him like he’s wanted to do it just as long as Wade has.

[thesupernaturalhouse]

So I was thinking about how Lute ended up going to Hell so routinely in the Hawk Feather AU, even before her breakdown and subsequent fall (it started as a kinda what if that became canon to the AU so there’s a bit of it not meshing quite right, at least to me) and I had a thought.

What if Lute was the only exorcist actually cast down? Like after the exterminations are cancelled she’s going stir crazy from her purpose being taken away, grief, and fear, and the council and Sera see this. They see this already abnormally aggressive angel who was quite literally designed to kill getting even snappier and sharper and more dangerous with every passing day, so they hold a trial.

Lute later likens it to being a dangerous dog, listening to the court argue over what to do with her, if she’s safe to let around the citizens of Heaven. Some even suggest she might be a danger to the less animal members of her own flock. Lute wasn’t allowed to defend herself, to argue that she wasn’t a danger to other angels, she just had to listen as they determined her fate like she was nothing more than an unruly animal.

They decide, at the end, to take her halo and make her fall. They hope that maybe removing her from the equation, the most animalistic and aggressive of the exorcists, might make managing the rest of the flock easier.

They’re wrong. When her flock learns of what the court did to their leader they leave of their own free will, no hesitation. By the time they find a way to Hell Lute has already begun adjusting, and so they follow suit.

Ooooo yes, Lute isn't allowed to talk, literally. She tries, and they put some kinda temporary magical seal on her mouth to shut her up, much to Emily and other angles opposition

Lute just has to sit there unable to say anything as they argued, like they were putting a wild animal down

Her flock doesn't know what happened for, roughly 2 months, nobody bothered to tell them their flock leader went away

Soem were worried she'd died, because she'd never abandon them. Not by choice. Not of her own free will. Their furious when they find out what happened

[shoujo-wizard]

omegaverse steddie thoughts to b had

Halloween town AU with soulmate elements

Young witch omega Steve who never knew of Halloween towns existence till his 13th birthday came & he woke up to his bed floating underneath him & his parents had a screaming match that night & his father slams the door behind him as he leaves so Steve runs away to Halloween town tht night by wishing he could b with his beloved but mysterious maternal grandmother Marlene Cravenwell who he only gets to see at Halloween & when he opens his eyes the next morning he's in her house on her couch & she isn't as surprised to see him as he thought but she just waves it away by stating their family has always been stronger than the average witch

She takes Steve out to the market & various shops along the main street of town introducing him the whole time as her grandson & a talented witch, she buys him necessities like clothes, hygiene products, & nesting materials saying she's had a room ready & waiting for him in her house since he was born an omega visibly disappointed Richard Harrington who clearly wanted an alpha or beta child & Annabelle Harrington who never recovered from her postpartum depression

So Steve stays in Halloween town & spends the summer learning the basics about witchcraft from his grandmother & then the summer turns to fall & his mother hasn't contacted Marlene abt her missing son & he doesn't want to go back anyway & so she enrolls her beloved talented grandson in the local school where he's instantly latched onto by werewolf Robin who can smell the potential for their friendship & the 2 quickly become inseparable & grow closer every year not even separating in high school like every1 assumed they would & when she presents as an alpha every1 assumes they'll get together but nah she just becomes his unofficial guard dog against alphas w less than pure intentions bc she can smell their true feelings

Then one night three years after Steve arrived in Halloween town someone new moves into the house across from Steve's window & his grandmother is telling him to stay away from their new neighbors instead of taking him along with her to greet them & the next day a new alpha boy is at school dressed in black with dark sunglasses & an equally dark umbrella the rumors reach Steve's ear before he even has a conversation w the alpha; his name's Eddie Munson, he moved to town literally the night before, & he's a vampire whose ancestors killed a witch

Cut to: they have a class together the next day & the only available seat is next to Steve & Robin doesn't take the class with him & when Eddie sits down oh no he smells amazing & then Eddie is asking him for a pencil & as he passes him the pencil their eyes meet then glow purple & wind sweeps through the classroom even with the windows closed & there's a chorus of gasps as everyone (including the 2 of them) process that they found their soulmate

Cue Steve's first heat being triggered by this event & taking him out of school for a week & Eddie's corresponding rut doing the same & both of them feeling tortured because their soulmate is right there but their guardians have said they can't get involved with each other

Maybe there's an evil warlock they have to defeat, maybe they have to reckon w the past where Eddie's ancestor killed a witch, maybe their families vehemently disapprove

In the end though they end up bonded to each other & Steve graduates with a pregnant belly & months later gives birth to a pup with pointed teeth & a unique diet & witchcraft in their bones

[parachutingkitten]

No actually, time can't pass differently in the never realm.

Sorry Doc, but now that you're the one making lore tweets, you get the prolonged tumblr rants from me.

To be fair, he does seem to be handling things in a way I much prefer to tommy. Cryptic self deprecation at a (maybe?) mistake is always a better look than doubling down, so this is all incredibly light hearted, but here we go:

If time does in fact work differently, then I have to assume that means time is moving more quickly in the never realm. Zane gets sent to the Never-Realm, and in the time it takes for the ninja to follow, sixty years passes in the never. Great.

In show it seems like it takes maybe a day or two for the ninja to realize what's happened and follow after him. For some easy math, let's just round it out to about 6 days, meaning that each day in ninjago is a decade in the never.

Problem is, we see pix and wu waiting for the ninja to return. We have at least 2 incidents in ninjago taking place on separate days (The Absolute Worst and Kaiju Protocol), meaning at minimum, the ninja are gone for 2 days ninjago time, which would imply the ninja were in the never realm for 2 whole decades which... can not be true.

So, maybe I did some estimating wrong. What if it took the ninja a solid month to grieve their loss, and then realized there was hope and go after Zane? That takes the ratio down to about 2 years in the never for every ninjago day. 4 years is still an insanely long time which does not map up to what we see in the never realm. In MotM, the ninja refer to this and other missions as all happening within the span of "weeks", implying that not only do all these missions happen immediately back to back, but that their time in the never realm was no more than a couple weeks. Now, they may be referring to the time that passed in Ninjago alone, but the way it's phrased seems to imply the time experienced by the ninja themselves. It's phrased as a reminder that they haven't been home in a while, which they obviously wouldn't need to be reminded of, if they had spent more than a month or so away, nevermind 4 years.

But say that we assume the never adventure took place over the course of a full month in never time, the most I am willing to conceed before later statements don't make sense. That leaves us with a 1/15 ratio, meaning the gap between Zane being blasted away, and the ninja following after him is 4 years. That... can not be true. There is no chance it took Wu 4 years to go and visit aspheera for the first time. There is no way everyone looks the same, the team hasn't split up, and Pixal just happens to still be having plot relevant nightmares. There is no way the time skip between episodes 14 and 15 of season 11 is 4 times as long as between seasons 14 and 15.

All of this is not to mention, we're still using our extremely conservative estimate of the ninja being gone for 2 days ninjago time, which not only assumes that the absolute worst and Kaiju Protocol happen back to back, but also that the news broke to the papers that the ninja had left, it was printed, and a paper was discarded close enough to blow over prison walls, in less than a day.

So, unless "time passed differently" means that time literally started passing differently when the ninja entered into the realm, normalizing it to ninjago time... I do not see what this could possibly mean. We see a montage of time passing in episode 17 that shows us a day in the never is just about as long as we would expect, if not maybe longer. The only way I can think that this might make sense is if people in the never realm refer to a day as a year- meaning Zane was corrupted for maybe 2 months max. And that kinda undercuts the drama a bit, don't it?

Btw, any way you slice it, formlings definitely age differently. Akita's tribe gets frozen as winter comes to the never realm, when she's a child, and 60 years later, she is a teenager seeking revenge. Which for those who care (me, I'm saying this for me), means if you like the 'Lloyd has life extending Oni blood like his dad' HC, Akita may be a decent choice to ship.

I do appreciate his attempts to make this the canon answer, as it does feel less stupid than the time travel thing. The 60 year blast from tommy feels inherently random and without purpose, and so comes across as a plot hole filler more than anything else. Unfortunately, this explanation is pretty impossible unless you want to introduce some MAJOR time skips to the timeline, or change the 60 year timeframe all together.

Anyway, the consistent time difference is impossible, and Akita has a very long expected life span. Unless they explicitly decide to kill her off, there is no reason to believe she is dead.

[writer-darling]

About You

Rating: G (General Audiences)

Pairing: Jack Russell (Werewolf by Night, 2022) x GN!Reader

Warnings: ANGST. Hurt/comfort. Mentions of injuries and bruises. More-than-friends-but-not-a-couple trope. Mutual pining. Coziness. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 2k

Summary!: Based on the song by The 1975. Jack always responded to letters. Always. What happens the one time he doesn't?

******

Early morning train rides are always a gamble. Sometimes, they were peaceful. You could easily slip into a quick nap with how smooth the ride could be on those days. Sometimes, it was chaos. If it was riddled with teenage students who commuted to the nearest high school, it could easily be an hour’s worth of hell. But today was thankfully not one of those days. As the morning drizzle drips down the windows, the train seems to be in a world of its own. You’re tempted to take another one of those naps but honestly, the worry in your bones is keeping you from doing so. You glance around at the other passengers for a moment in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

The train is sparsely-packed today. A couple of girls sit a few rows away, college-age. They sit and smile at their phones, laughing quietly amongst themselves. The shorter girl with her hair in a ponytail tilts her phone screen towards her friend, who laughs and suddenly blushes, making her look so much younger.

A man in a brown suit sits on the other side of the aisle from you, also in a window seat. He has a pair of earbuds on and his laptop is open on one of the train’s small tray carts as he talks in hushed tones to the screen in front of him. Likely some sort of business meeting from the seriousness of his tone and the furrow of his brow. A black suitcase sits next to him on the unoccupied seat beside him. 

Another glance around shows you an elderly couple that sit beside each other at the very back of the cart. The two old ladies hold hands tightly as the blonder one of the two rests her head against the shoulder of her companion.

That last image makes you smile a little. But all too soon your thoughts go back to Jack.

You usually aren’t much of a worrywart these days, but Jack’s uncharacterisitic lack of correspondence has quickly changed that. You’re not exaggerating when you say Jack is an immediate responder. To texts, to calls, to letters even. His letters almost always get back to you within 1-2 days' time. The longest he’d gone without getting back a letter was a couple of weeks and that’s because his response had gotten lost and arrived later than he had assured you. Now, his last correspondence has been almost two months. Not to mention his last phone call or text had been a week or so before that. 

When you’d reached out to his mom, she had voiced similar concerns, though there was something in her voice that sounded much less worried than you felt.

“I’m sure he’s alright.” She’d said. “He’s likely just busy.” She’d said.

Still, it’s done little to reassure you. There was just something in your gut that told you something was very, very wrong. You were almost tempted to file a Missing Person’s report, but when you’d voiced that idea to Jack’s mom, she had assured you that she would do it herself. Yet, it’s been weeks since then and no police have reached out to you at all. 

Which makes you think that, hey if she’s not too concerned, why should you be, right? After all, other than Jack’s mom, you’re his closest loved one. You know that like you know the Earth revolves around the Sun. So then, what is going on? You sit there in the train’s window seat, watching the blur of the forest pass you by as the train makes its way into town. The City Limits sign greets you in another green and white blur. Why hasn’t he written back? 

Suddenly, an awful, gut-wrenching thought hits you:

Maybe he’s forgotten about you. Not literally, of course. But maybe, just maybe, he’s finally let go of that friendship you both have cherished so much. Maybe he no longer cherishes it the way you do. The thought tastes like bitterness in the back of your throat and you don’t realize you’re crying until you glance down at your open notebook and see the tears staining the blank page. That must be it. If his mother isn’t worried… if he hasn’t made any effort to reach out… then maybe… maybe he just doesn’t want to. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest and suddenly, your pen is flying across the page, more tears staining and blurring the ink in some spots as you write.

You express your sorrows onto the page, and one page becomes two, then five. Possibly your longest letter to Jack yet. In 40-plus years of friendship, this is your longest and possibly most depressing letter yet. You’re still crying when you disembark into town and walk to the nearest post box. You slip the now-enveloped letter into the blue box and try your best to get a grip as you make the trek to your job now, opening up your umbrella as the drizzle starts to become a hard downpour.

Jack’s body ached like he’d been hit by several trains as he stumbled back onto the property, his body still recovering from last night’s transformation. His clothes were practically torn to shreds as he walked over to the mailbox, limping slightly. His body was near-entirely black and blue from so many bruises, but he’s not too concerned about that. Two months had somehow flown by as he’d been tracking monsters and creatures all over the country. Another rescue mission for Ted last-minute had stolen every ounce of his attention for the last three weeks. He’d been completely unaware of the passage of time. 

Until he saw the letters.

He knew it had been some time since he’d last responded but had it really been so long? It must’ve been. Given the five unopened envelopes sitting in his mailbox. It had made him smile to see so many of your letters greeting him home. Like the warmest hug he could ever hope for, only second to the real thing, of course. Until he opened them…

“I miss you on the train, I miss you in the morning… please write back soon…” Jack’s eyes immediately filled with tears as he finished the last of your many unanswered letters, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. His fingers ran over every tear stain, every smudged letter, and finally on your rushed signature at the bottom of the page. He grabbed his phone from his desk drawer and finally turned it back on. An influx of messages and missed calls greeted him. All from you. How could he have been so careless?

His eyes scan over the notification banners of every message, each one sounding more and more saddened than the last. He’d missed you, of course he’d missed you. He always missed you. But these last few missions in particular had left him little time to breathe let alone think about anything other than what had been directly in front of him. He had been surrounded by different terrains and different creatures for so many nights. One of those times in his life where he’d been forced to be more monster than man, simply for survival’s sake. Thankfully Ted had kept him somewhat sane. So, when the ManThing had gone missing once again, he’d been pulled back into the Wolf’s mentality in order to save them both. 

As he read the last message he knew what he had to do immediately.

“Ay no. No, no, no, no.” He didn’t even bother to pack a bag, booking the quickest flight he could as he left the house only after a quick change of his clothing. 

He had to make this right.

You’re in bed, your mind still on Jack and the letters. It’s late in the day and the last twenty-four hours since you sent the last letter have been somehow harder than the last two months combined. Bleary-eyed, you grab your phone and open it up. Still no call-back, and your messages haven’t even been read by Jack yet. You decide to send one more text. Just one more.

“Have you forgotten about me?” 

You expected maybe a text. Or a call. What you don’t expect is an urgent knocking on your door only moments later. Your heart skips a beat and you almost run to the door, your mind telling you it's impossible even as you yank it open and take in the sight before you.

“Jack?” He’s out of breath, his hair hanging in his face as he pants, leaning himself against the doorway. You only barely notice the taxi that dropped him off leaving your driveway a moment later. “H-How-?”

“How could you?” He asks, and he sounds wounded. You’re at a loss for words, relieved that he’s here but confused as to how he got here. All you can do is take in his appearance. He looks tired, he looks worn down. His eyes have the deepest shadows you’ve ever seen on him and his scruff is the most grown out he’s ever had it. But all your mind can think is: heshereheshereheshere. You don’t realize he’s speaking again until he bends down slightly to meet your eyes. 

“Do you think I’ve forgotten about you??” He demands, upset, but not angry. His voice is a grave, intense whisper and the pain in his eyes makes the hazel in his eyes burn like molten amber. Pure incredulous disbelief paints his features and you can’t respond for a full minute.

“You… You didn’t answer my letter. My messages, my calls… You always answer my letters.” You mumble in response, your voice almost detached as your mind just can’t register the fact that he’s standing right in front of you. He slumps for a moment, nodding, before stepping towards you and sweeping you up into his arms. You both embrace each other tightly and despite the restriction, you find yourself able to breathe in what feels like ages. He’s safe, he’s warm, he’s here. Your eyes close as you melt into him, feeling one of his hands cradle the back of your hair, while the other rubs your back. You’re both silent, just breathing together and reveling in the fact that you’ve reunited. You pull away after a moment, just to look at him again. Your eyes dart all over him as you soak in as much of his appearance as you can.

“I was away. I wasn’t home. I felt my phone. I-I’m sorry.” The words stumble out of his mouth quickly as he makes you meet his eyes. Your gaze locks on his for a moment as you try to catch your breath, your mind still lightly spinning. 

“I thought you forgot about me.” Your voice is almost timid as you speak and you see something in his eyes change. A fierce shift of protection you rarely ever see in Jack. He hugs you again, even tighter this time and the two of you don’t speak for a long moment as he holds you close to him. His scent permeates your senses and you breathe in deeply, your eyes closing as you bask in his warmth.

“Ni lo pienses.” His voice is a low mutter into your hair as he rubs your spine gently with his palm, his touch comforting and reaffirming his presence. You let out a shuddering breath that’s almost a laugh as you melt into him further and he melts right back. Both of you somehow keep each other upright as you hug one another so tightly you’re almost sure you’ll have bruises in the morning. But that’s the last thing on your mind right now. You pull away to bring him into the house, getting both of you out of the chill and the rain into the warmth of your house. You both feel like thousand-pound weights have been removed from your chests.

He’s here... and he's not going anywhere.

******

I really need to write more Jack stories. He brings me so much comfort, I can't explain it.

Jack Russell TagList: @jedi-in-crocs @kayleezra @amandanik23 @mandy-sings

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[good7luck]

personal, real life

negative, depressing (giving me a headache, at least)

mention of illness, hospital, passing away, etc

asking for your opinion(s)

(more under the cut)

.

This is very personal all of a sudden,

but I'd really appreciate your thoughts on this OTL

I know I cannot provide every single info and the full context, but I did my available best for now.

Summary exists at the end!

.

My mother (full housewife) has been ill and currently hospitalized since a while ago (as a part of her medical treatment, not some unexpected emergency), which would last for a month or so.

My father (full worker) has been pretty kind to her overall and helped her with everything needed.

But...he has had a problem with her housework ways, mainly with piles of stuff (which is sure a lot tbh). Recently, he has tried to randomly "organize" things (unbox, see, re/move etc) at home multiple times, which annoyed and stressed her very much everytime.

Now that she's in the hospital and not coming back anytime soon, it seems he decided to take it as a "chance" to re-organize all the stuff piled he didn't like in the house. Even if he's obviously not young in 40s or such, not so healthy, and still needs to go to work almost everyday.

The thing is...he's even going to dispose of her old religion-related books (Buddhism), including mostly given as presents when she was doing some volunteer works at some religious place(s) years ago (maybe some were purchased, idk). It's not that she read them often, but she has saved them there for years for a reason. And yet, today he already took many of them out of the shelf and put them in boxes to remove later (maybe in 2 days). Of course, he did NOT get any permission from her and did NOT tell her any of this at all.

In fact, I, too, have had a problem with a lot of the boxes and things she has purchased but often abandoned for years, even if I understand it's cheaper to buy things a lot on sale at once. I do feel very irritated when I newly find a bunch of food which expired 2021 or such.

Still...I wouldn't carelessly touch her religion-related books or such?? Especially when she's suffering from the illness right now, and the religion has been one of her rare comforts (even long, long before the illness), and the books are basically her private, not his?? I'm not even so religious myself, but this looks quite rude and abusive??

Unfortunately, he sincerely thinks he's ~finally~ doing the "right" job that should've been done long ago, and realistically it's plain impossible to persuade him. He would never listen, much less change his mind because of me (or even her, perhaps).

All I can possibly do is probably to hide her books. But it's quite a lot for my room; he's checking almost all the spots in the house, and no guarantee he wouldn't enter my room. I'm not sure if it would even work tbh, as he seems sooo determined about throwing away "unnecessary" things, and he might notice some are missing idk.

Honestly, I'd like to let her know about what's going on to her books, so that she's at least aware and can make her own choice. But...she's literally sick and very weakened, she had better not get stressed. She's going to take some serious treatment soon, which might or might not succeed. Strictly speaking...the possibility of her passing away in the hospital is not zero. It's surely not a good idea to add more problems there.

Before she got hospitalized, I did tell her that he might dig up the whole house, and she said he wouldn't cuz he should be too busy with his work (especially when she cannot do the housework for him). I was more joking, and she sure didn't take it seriously, but now my concern came true, much worse than I ever imagined.

I'm pretty sure she'd get super angry, no matter WHEN she gets to learn about this. Or, would she actually be able to take it better if she hears about this after coming back home? Cuz it's all "ended" then, after all?

I just...don't understand why he had to make things (even more) complicated and worse. Seriously, it's even not like she's very likely to pass away soon. He didn't mean this for sure, but more than often he doesn't realize how insensitive and impolite his action can be. Her religion books were not so many and so not a real problem, in the first place...

Summary:

My mother (housewife) is currently hospitalized due to her serious illness. My father (worker) is going to dump many of her old religion books (Buddhism) in 2 days, which were already half-boxed today. I could try hiding them in my room at best, which might not succeed. And/or I could contact her and inform her of what happened, which would give her a chance but definitely stress her a lot.

...I feel I'm probably being ridiculous and immature here, but I'm genuinely so stressed about this now, especially when I have my own real life problems to take care of as well OTL Maybe I just wanted to vent idk ^^;; I cannot guarantee I'd strictly follow the poll result or comments, but I'd like to know what other people would do. I appreciate your attentions!

.

(sorry this post cannot be reblogged and can be deleted in the future. this post is also not meant for screenshot or such spreading for obvious reasons. thanks for understanding...!)

[qrevo]

Milgram Prisioner Covers Prediction List

So. I've been listening to some of DECO's older songs these past few days, some of which I hadn't heard before, and I wanted to try and take a shot on future Milgram Covers! (this list will be so wrong i'll be ashamed of this 2 yrs from now) (Also like. Don't think this had a 10 month research period. I'm not a professional lyricist or literary analyst guy or anything. I literally did this during the weekend while procrastinating for uni assignments.) There is a TLDR at the end for the lazy kings (you guys are so real for that tbh)

01 - Undead Alice

I don't really have a reason for it, I really just feel like it makes a good fit. Yeah, the lyrics are about a toxic relationship, but the way the song is written reminds me a lot about Haruka and his negative view about himself (which may become worse after a Guilty vote).

02 - Rabbit Hole

This song is fits so well with Yuno. It really feels like it's mocking love and romance, especially the superficial ones where it's all just "corny" and "cliché", which is really in-line with Yuno's character. Also it would be so good. Just imagine Rabbit Hole with the Vampire cover's yoinky sploinky cartoony sounds.

03 - 118

This one I'm not that certain of, I guess it fits with Futa becoming more aware and remorseful of what he did and ending up spiting who he associated with. Also, I really think it would fit his songs' style of a more rock-punk vibe. Futa's covers are actually kind of hard to predict to be honest, even today I woudn't think about him covering Mozaik Role, but here we are.

04 - Ghost Rule

I'm pretty sure Ghost Rule will be covered by one of the prisioners, since it's kind of a Vocaloid classic (and also really good it will be such a win for Muu-stans if this becomes real). I felt like it goes well with Muu's character, with her acting superior and snobby in school and later becoming a bullying victim, a "ghost", as a consequence. If she covers this, then maybe in T3 she regrets what she did and how she acted?

05 - Cosmic Rendesvouz

Yeah this one came out a few days ago, and is what inspired me to make this list. It's just. Made for Shidou. The mourning? The wanting to reunite with his wife on the after-life? THE HOLOGRAPHIC GHOST-MEMORY-THINGS? So Shidou-core. I know a lot of people pointed this out, but some scenes felt so much like Triage. Anyways, this song screams "I'm Shidou and I'm very sad" in the best way possible. Next.

06 - Zombies

This one is less like a guess and more like a PLEASE I NEED THIS SO BAD. This fits SO WELL with the toxic girlfriend and abusive relationship. Her wanting to be with the lover forever, leading to him passing away, fits so well. Also, Okasaki Miho would simply SLAY SO MUCH.

07 - We The Hostages

Kazui is difficult. A lot of DECO's songs are about bad/distasteful relationships, so I felt like there were a lot of options. I chose this one mostly because the lyrics can be interpreted as a person who doesn't love their partner anymore, and wants to let it all go, as the relationship was bad for both. Also the wife is gone apparently.

08 - Winter Cleaning(????)

Amane is actually the main boss of this prediction list because like. She will cover ANIMAL. I still think it'll be good, actually so happy for the Amane-stans out there, but it was just. One of the most jaw-dropping cover choices from the entire project for me. ANYTHING is possible from now on. I guess Winter Cleaning makes sense if she goes to therapy and recovers from Her Current Behaviour™, as in like, cleaning her mindspace and taking out the bad memories and such, but this is really a shot in the dark.

09 - (Not) A Devil

Another one that's more of a wish than a prediction (and also kind of fanservice-y?). The lyrics are like an angel and a devil on an argument, so it would be cool if we had both Ore-Mikoto and Boku-Mikoto singing as the angel and the devil. Also the song kind of fits his heavy-metal song style.

09 - Theory of Negativity

Aha, two songs for Mikoto! That's because his T2 cover was not revealed yet! Anyway, it's a song about breakups I think (as are a lot of them actually), but the lyrics talk about hating the partner, wanting to change one's self, a lot of self-doubt, and it kind of fits with Mikoto's struggles on having DID.

10 - Reversible Campaing

This is one I'm really hoping for. The style of the song fits her themes and styles so much. I don't think the lyrics fit 100% for her, as they are about (guess it) a toxic relationship (!?!), but so was Anti-Beat and that cover was great so who cares.

10 - Dilemma

Kotoko will also have two predictions! This one is more on the aesthetics of the song and the MV, and also because it can kind of being interpreted as her saying how much justice she did ("Don't play arround, how much I've done for you, you probably don't even want to know").

HONORABLE MENTIONS

-I could very easily switch Reversible Campaign and 118, these songs are good for both Futa and Kotoko -I also thought about Cinderella for Muu, but it came as a song about being insecure, while currently Muu is like. The opposite. -Love Doll would also fit with Mahiru, and her wanting to spend every second with her partner -I was so close to chosing A Bird's Song for Kazui, but We The Hostages made more sense. -Addiction can fit with Mikoto because of the beat, but the lyrics didn't make that much sense in character. -Also I can kind of see Pseudo-Hope Syndrome fitting well for Mikoto

TLDR

I like Milgram a normal amount thank you. Etc etc. Here's the list: 01 - Undead Alice 02 - Rabbit Hole 03 - 118 04 - Ghost Rule 05 - Cosmic Rendezvous 06 - Zombie 07 - We The Hostages 08 - Winter Cleaning 09 - (Not) A Devil / Theory of Negativity 10 - Reversible Campaign / Dilemma

[angel-wings-and-tattoos]

i am, in fact, in a steddie mood today. however, if you look at my account for more than 2 seconds then you're aware that i'm incapable of writing anything without stonathan in some way, shape, or form so today! we will be looking at platonicbff!stonathan. i love stonathan with my entire heart and its to the point where i like literally any dynamic you can put them in. like i think i'm into platonic!stonathan equally as much as platonic!stobin. which is saying something bc i am actively head over heels in love with robin.

what i want to look at today is protective jonathan when it comes to steve. in a perfect world (correction-in a somewhat plausible perfect world bc, let's be honest, in my perfect world we actively get footage of jonathan and steve fucking but that's neither here nor there) season 5 develops steve & jonathan's relationship, him and nancy break up amicably, and steve and jonathan become best friends.

but back to the steddie i promised earlier.

----

eddie doesn't know how it happened. one day he's accused of murder, alone, and stuck in a boathouse and less than a month later here he is. staring at steve fucking harrington sleeping less than five feet away from him.

the very same steve harrington that apparently is the sole reason he's even awake in the first place. when the trio had stumbled onto dustin and eddie, steve had gone into full action hero mode. using his lifeguard cpr training he had managed to get eddie breathing long enough to haul his ass back top side, breaking one of eddie's ribs in the process.

eddie doesn't remember any of it.

that isn't for lack of trying on his part. eddie is approximately two seconds away from breaking into the hospital's security footage because, if robin's story is true, he wants to keep the video for the rest of his life.

according to her, it was awesome, munson, you should have seen it! he had you in a bridal carry like a godamn rag doll. he burst in the front entrance and started yelling at them like i've never seen him yell before, ever! even that one time dustin fucked up the paint on his car. the nurses recognized you and for sure didn't want to help but apparently there's only so much you can do in the face of steve harrington throwing the mother of all shitfits. the second he started threatening to call his dad they all kicked into gear. it would have been funny if i didn't actively think you were dead at the time. sorry! but you really were super still and you weren't groping steve, like at all, so i assumed that we'd lost you forever.

(eddie pretends to be offended by that last bit, but he also concedes that if steve picked him up right now he can't promise he would keep his hands to himself)

after eddie was taken away on a stretcher, steve had nodded, mostly to himself, and promptly passed out. onto the cold, hard, tiled floor of the hospital entryway. they hauled him on a stretcher as well and he was put up in a room somewhere down the hallway.

that lasted for about four hours.

or, more accurately, that lasted until steve woke up again. after throwing what robin called less a shitfit, more a temper tantrum this time, he managed, even in a pain-induced haze, to convince the hospital staff to put him in eddie's room.

that fiasco was 3 days ago.

currently, steve wasn't unconscious anymore but his injuries were pretty badly infected. turns out nancy's shredded t-shirt wasn't exactly the most sterile thing on the planet. they had him on a steady stream of antibiotics and pain meds. eddie himself hadn't been awake for more than 15 minutes or so at a time (each of those times, robin had excitedly looked up from her vigil at steve's side and recounted new things she decided he had to know at that exact second).

until now.

as eddie blinks awake, he is aware of three things.

he's never been this thirsty in his entire life. it feels like he decided to dive mouth first into a container of sand.

if he didn't know any better, he would say that jim hopper is standing by a chair near steve's bed. but he does know better, jim hopper is dead. so. great. now he can add hallucinations to potential side effects of evil upside down bat bites.

directly next to the mirage of a police chief, sits jonathan byers.

that last thing wouldn't be as weird if said byers wasn't holding one of steve's hands and sitting far closer to the bed than the nonentity behind him.

(eddie isn't sure why the hand holding is more distracting at the moment than the fact that robin is actively laying in steve's bed with him, burrowing herself into his side like she's attempting to meld them into one person.)

he blearily watches as jonathan softly tucks a stray piece of steve's hair behind his ear on the side of his head that's not currently resting on the top of robin's.

eddie decides that he is on far too much pain medication to be thinking this hard.

groaning, he attempts to sit up enough to reach the water pitcher next to his bed.

"whoa, munson. take it easy," the ghost of legal trouble's past shuffles over to help eddie by pouring some water into a small paper cup. eddie watches him, wearily taking the cup from him. the water was cold to the point that it almost hurt, but it still beat the hell out of having a dry throat.

"ar'n't you 'posed t'be dead?" eddie slurs. his tongue feels like it weighs about ten pounds. the (poltergeist? revenant? wraith? eddie's mushy brain can't think of a better word for a dead person that can pour him water) figure before him scoffs.

"nice to see that you're still charming as ever. it's a long story, kid, i'm sure someone else will fill you in later. besides i'm guessing you have maybe 5 minutes of peace before one of those kids finds out you're awake and, inevitably, starts screaming about it loud enough to break glass," hopper sighs, hands coming to his hips in a remarkably similar echo of steve. eddie has absolutely zero thoughts about that, thank you. the chief moves towards the door, placing a hand on the handle.

"however, buckley hasn't left harrington's side for the last 4 days. if anyone scares her awake now, i don't think she'll ever go back to sleep. i'll hold them off for the night, but the second the sun comes up, you're on your own."

hopper looks from eddie to jonathan, who nods in acknowledgement without looking away from steve for more than a second or two. eddie watches as he closes the door behind him and disappears from view, leaving jonathan and eddie sitting in silence.

eddie coughs.

fidgets.

looks at byers.

coughs again.

okay, let it be said that eddie isn't great with awkward silence. but, in his defense, what the fuck is he supposed to say to jonathan byers? he didn't even know that him and steve were friends, much less holding-hands-in-a-hospital-bed-friends.

"so," eddie starts, regretting opening his mouth the second jonathan looks at him.

"so," jonathan repeats quietly, looking like he's holding back a smile as he does, "you're eddie munson."

eddie doesn't like the way jonathan is saying his name. it has an odd tilt to it, like he's mimicking what someone else has said to him. eddie admits that it's not the worst way his name has ever been said, but it makes him swallow uncomfortably.

"gu'lty 's charged, man." eddie's voice comes out considerably clearer than before, shifting from sounding completely shitfaced to minorly tipsy.

there is an extremely awkward moment where eddie has no idea where this conversation is going. jonathan is back to staring at steve, still practically cradling one of his hands between the two of his.

"he talks about you a lot, you know," eddie doesn't know, but he also doesn't interrupt, "it's always 'eddie said this', 'this is eddie's favorite song', 'eddie rented that movie'. he talks about you almost as much as he talks about robin."

jonathan takes a breath, drumming his fingers on the back of steve's hand. his gaze stays on steve as he talks, still quiet enough to not wake up either of the teenagers sleeping next to him.

"he's a good guy, you know. underneath the whole asshole jock façade. i don't know if you remember, but he almost killed himself trying to save you. i'm not sure how he was even able to stand when you guys came in, much less march in here like he did carrying you in his arms."

still idly toying with steve's hand, jonathan's gaze moves back to eddie. his fond expression dims into more serious territory as he visibly contemplates the second part of his impromptu speech.

"i'm not the greatest at talking about my own feelings, i'm more than aware of that, but i won't hesitate in saying that steve is important to me. no idea how, why, or when it happened, but he just is. somewhere along the line he decided that your opinion is important to him and i need you to understand the weight of that. steve has been independent his entire life, sometimes to the point where it's detrimental to his own health. i don't know if he realizes it completely, but he's basically imprinted on you like a baby duck."

eddie swallows nervously as jonathan maintains steady eye contact. the two men are quiet for a moment before jonathan seems to mentally switch tracks, "you seem like a good guy. steve obviously adores you and it sounds like the kids do as well. from what i've heard, you almost died to save dustin's life. i appreciate all of it, i really do. that being said, if you do anything to hurt steve then none of that matters anymore. i think i'm speaking on robin's behalf as well when i say that we really do like you as a person, but steve's wellbeing comes first."

as stated earlier, eddie is on far too much pain medication to be thinking this hard. if his head wasn't so foggy, eddie would think he's getting a shovel talk.

by jonathan byers.

about steve harrington.

who apparently "obviously adores him".

yeah, it's definitely the pain killers.

eddie clears his throat again as he heavily sinks back against his pillows. "i'm not entirely convinced that 'm not hallucinating this entire conversation, byers. but yeah, i understand. kinda owe him my life now, i guess, so it'd be pretty shitty of me to hurt the guy's feelings or whatever ya think i'mma do," his speech was improving the more he talked, but it was getting harder to keep his eyes open.

jonathan seems content with that statement for the time being, if his attention switching back to steve and off eddie is any indication.

eddie falls back asleep shortly thereafter, leaving jonathan as the only person awake in the small hospital room.

________

i think i'm going to add more from jonathan's pov but for now just be aware that jonathan and steve both know that steve is practically in love with eddie. jonathan is very protective of the people he loves and steve is in that circle. as far as this little snippet goes, i don't think stonathan was ever a romantic thing, and there was never any hard pining involved but they do care about each other deeply. i like to think they kept in contact when the byers moved to california. it started with jonathan and nancy getting into a fight and the only other adult person he could call to check on things was steve. he wasn't sure if steve would even respond, but he ended up not only answering all of jon's questions but seemed to genuinely want to know how the rest of the byers' clan was doing.

this turned into weekly phone calls, which turned to twice a week, which eventually turned to calls at all times of day all week. they're basically besties who gossip and talk shit on the phone all the time. when the byers get back to hawkins it shocks everyone but robin when jonathan parks his ass next to steve's bed and refuses to move.

i just love stonathan ok!!!! i will die on this hill. steve deserves people who love him and care about him!!

Edit: now on ao3!! <3

[hudine]

Still don’t have a name for this fic. Will put on AO3 when I got one. Anyone got any ideas for a name feel free suggest them.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

60 years later

Jules was in the human realm again for the first time since the sacking. He had wanted to go home long before now but his mother wouldn’t let him out of her sight at court. He became an adult by fae standards ten years ago but that didn’t mean his mother couldn’t find other means to keep him from leaving. Eventually though he got hold of a lute, some bard clothes, snuck back into the human realm and took up the name Jaskier to make it harder to find him. He’s been wondering the continent as a traveling bard trying to hear anything he can about what was left of the wolf school ever since.

Finding out knowledge of any Witchers yet alone a particular guild of them was easier said than done. In the past year he’s only managed to find two, one viper and one cat. He didn’t get much out of either of them but the viper and cat schools got never along the with the wolf school in the first place so it wasn’t that surprising.

He was going to give it a few more months then actually pluck up the nerve to go back home to Kaer Morhen and see what is left and go from there. Right about now Jaskier wishes he didn’t put such a good anti tracking spell on the medallions or he could find anyone he wanted. The majority of those who where out on the path during the sacking wore medallions he had enchanted in the first place so it wouldn’t have been hard otherwise.

He was playing in a small tavern at the edge of the world in the town of Posada when it happened. Jaskier was playing a set that was pretty much designed to get food thrown at him so he wouldn’t have to pay for lunch. Also he didn’t want to stand out so he didn’t want to showcase his true talents. Then seemingly out of nowhere Geralt of fucking Rivia unexpectedly walked in and took a seat in the back corner where no one would see him. The bard almost missed a note in shock. So knowing how literal minded his old friend was he started singing in metaphors using monsters that don’t exist or at least shouldn’t exist.

He finished his song and on queue got bread thrown at him. He started muttering at the crowed as he stuffed bread rolls in his pockets. He looked up to see Geralt hadn’t bothered to even look up at the spectacle. Didn’t surprise him much. He had enchanted the medallions to ignore his magic so he could get up to magical mischief as a child and Geralt always had been particularly resistant to magic even for a Witcher. It’s why Reidrich singled him out for his ‘experiment’.

The fae stood up, took a tankard from a passing barmaid, had a drink to brace himself and walked up to Geralt. “I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”

“I’m here to drink alone,” Geralt replied not even looking up.

“Good. Yea, good.” Jaskier ignored the Witcher and sat down across from him. “No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance… except for you. Come on. You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me. Three words or less.”

“They don’t exist.”

“What?”

“The creatures in your song, they don’t exist.”

“And you apparently still wouldn’t know a metaphor if it bit you in the ass Geralt.”

Geralt really looked at him for the first time, brow furrowed. “Do I know you?”

“Gee thanks. Nice to know I’m that forgettable. It’s been sixty years I know, but I hadn’t been able to get away from my mother until now. She had guards watching me and a tracking spell for when I slipped the guards. She was convinced if I came back here to see what was left of Kaer Morhen I’d be killed. Took me finally reaching age of majority and another ten years of court responsibilities she made up, before I managed to slip the leash. Anyone asks, my name is Jaskier and I’m a perfectly normal human bard, thank you very much. Really don’t want to be dragged back there. Court is boring.”

It took a moment for Geralt’s brain to catch up with the rambling and put it together. “Jules? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I got out. Managed to make a portal and took the children with me to the fae realm along with Birman and Deglan who dragged my unconscious father along with them.”

“Vesemir said he was the only one left alive in the keep. Does he know?”

“Considering he shoved me through my own portal when I tried to talk sense into him about coming with me, yea. I would have jumped right back through there and dragged his ass back through with me but I hit my head on the other side and got knocked out. So Vesemir is still alive?”

“For now. Might be a different story when I get back to Kaer Morhen and have a ‘talk’ about him letting me think you’re dead for the past sixty years.”

“Don’t be too hard on him. He was probably just covering for our escape, didn’t want any rumours any of the mages made it out. The brotherhood was behind everything. Saw some of their council members, not just mages, among those attacking.”

They got interrupted as a farmer walked up to the table. “Excuse me… master Witcher. I need your help. I have coin. A devil has been stealing from our grain stores.”

“A devil?” Geralt asked sceptically.

“Well I don’t know what else to call it. It looks like a goat that can run on two legs.”

“And it’s been stealing from your grain stores?”

“Yes. I have a hundred and fifty crowns for you to go take a look.”

“Alright. You coming Jules?” Geralt asked as he got up.

“Sure. Maybe I can write a song about it or something, Eric,” Jaskier replied, getting up and following.

“Don’t call me that,” Geralt snarled annoyedly at Jaskier.

Jaskier haven grown up around Witchers, didn’t find it in the least bit intimidating. “Don’t call me Jules and I’ll not call you Eric.”

“Fine, Jaskier. What kind of name is that anyway?” Geralt asked as they left of the tavern.

“A whimsical one like you’d expect a bard to have. Also kinda fae, it being a plant name and all. They’re weeds. Hardy, will grow anywhere, near impossible to get rid of, and poisonous,” Jaskier proclaimed proudly.

“Hm. Put that way, very you,” Geralt replied as he got Roach out of the stable.

They walked out of town a bit before Jaskier couldn’t help asking, “Isn’t that one of the horses I grassed?”

“Her name is Roach.”

“And she lets you ride her? I remember most those horses becoming like demonic hell spawn afterwards…”

“Took a while but she trusts me. She makes a good Witcher horse; fast, lots of stamina, isn’t afraid of pretty much anything, won’t let anyone steal her. She’s also older than me and still going. Why did you grass horses anyway?”

“Oh. They had me practice on animals before they let me preform the trail of grasses on a person. I take it you haven’t come across the rats… those sneaky little bastards are why they decided we should move on to bigger animals who can’t hide as easily.”

“Rats? Is that why we have a colony of half feral mutant cats?”

“I only grassed two… to catch the rats. How was I to know the cats could still have kittens afterwards? Most creatures mutate so much they’re not compatible with the same species anymore and renders them infertile,” Jaskier explained exasperatedly.

“What happened the people you escaped with?”

“They decided to start over. Got the fae to take them to a new part of this sphere far from the continent. After all it’s not just here that has a monster problem. They’re thriving last update I had, and far away from the influence of the brotherhood. People actually look up to Witchers there and don’t have the superstitious beliefs about them so less die each year because of humans.”

Geralt had a far away look for a moment. “Must be nice.”

“I could take you there.”

“Maybe… someday. I can’t just abandon those that are left here.”

“How many are left?”

“The number dwindles every winter. Last count there where about twenty that came to Kaer Mohen to winter, not all of them wolves. There are also a few stuck in wolf form who live in the woods around Kaer Morhen. We’ve tried to help them but nothing seems to work.”

“I can change them back. I turned Varin into a giant chicken once because he was being an asshole. So transforming them back to their Witcher state shouldn’t be a problem. The problem is if they’ll stay that way. Might be that they’re not stuck. Might be that they’ve grown tired of life on the path and decided they’re better off as wolves. Seen it happen a time or two. Usually from the mistreatment they get from humans. I could quite happily do some really horrible things to whoever started the rumour that Witchers don’t have feelings.”

“They’re supposed to have been burned out of us during the trails.”

Jaskier actually smacked Geralt upside the head. “Don’t. That’s a load of nonsense. Actually if anything emotions are heightened because believe it or not that is a sense and all senses are heightened. You feel things more intensely than humans. Sometimes though it gets stuck inside and they get trapped where you’re unsure how to express them or are too overwhelmed to do so. Makes it hard to speak for some too. Of course the cats are the only ones who openly admit this. The rest of you all pretend otherwise because of a toxic culture that sprang up long before I was around. You think you had it bad as a kid? It was a lot worse in the past. Most the outright abusive ‘training’ was stopped.”

“I find it hard to believe with Witchers like Varin training us.”

“They used to all be like him… except Vesemir. He was always fair from everything I heard. Varin was just an asshole they had to confine to the keep and had to give him something to do while there. He learned not to mess with me though. The chicken incident just being the last in a long line of shit I did to him when he was being an ass.

“Actually I was the reason a lot of it got stopped. The mages never paid much attention to how they trained new Witchers until Vesemir decided I was old enough to be put in training with them. They where horrified by the shear number of boys who died before the grasses just because they hadn’t been fed enough, or exposed too long to the cold, or beaten for no good reason. Dad didn’t believe me at first when I told him about it, so I went to Dagobert, then Reidrich. Eventually I made enough of a fuss with them they checked it out, watching through magical means.

“They pretty much unanimously told Rennes they where leaving if they didn’t stop all of that. He came up with some bullshit excuse about selecting the toughest of the boys. Then my father informed him that there is nothing tough about surviving all that, mostly just luck. They wanted healthy boys for the trails and if they stop killing them off maybe they’d have more pass and their low success rate probably has everything to do with malnutrition. He wasn’t wrong about that. That was just part of the puzzle though. The rest was in quantity of elder blood, freely given, and different mutagens, and a touch of original genetics. If you have some elven or fae in you you’re more likely to make it. Or some chaos.”

“Like Eskel. He’s always been good with signs.”

“It’s also how I was able to teach him how to do some minor magic like glamours. Same with you. Actually you got more raw chaos than Eskel. Just Eskel has better control of his,” Jaskier proclaims to Geralt who just looks sceptically at him, “It’s true. I’ve had a closer look at both of your magical cores than most. I did the grasses on you twice, and the dreams on Eskel. Did my best to make sure you both maintained access to it. Hence why you both can do more than signs. I’m just surprised you both still talked to me after, yet alone became my friends.”

“If you didn’t do it one of the others would have. You where also known for being gentler about it than the others, actually trying to dull the pain, and had the highest success rate. It’s why I begged you to do my second round of grasses. Never trusted Reidrich. Besides you may have been one of the mages officially by the time I came along, but you where always one of us. You didn’t hold yourself above us lowly Witchers unlike Reidrich or Dagobert. Your father wasn’t so bad either, if a bit scatterbrained. But you Jules, you ran the walls with us as punishment like the rest of us when we got in trouble. Got stuck in the middle of whatever childish mischief that was being planned. Protected us from people like Varin. I’m also convinced you’re responsible for most of Vesemir’s grey hair. After all I can quite reliably say you’re responsible for my own hair going white.”

“It really wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“Relax it’s a joke. I have been known to make those on occasion. I got used to it a long time ago.”

“You joke? Actually you’re communicating in more than grunts. Are you ok? You haven’t been cursed with gift of the gab or something?” Jaskier asked sarcastically.

“Hmn,” Geralt grunted also sarcastically.

“Now that’s more like the Witcher I know and love,” Jaskier replied, grinning.

@xxx|}::::::::::::::::::::> <::::::::::::::::::::{|xxx@

[egglygreg]

Big ol' rambly journal entry incoming

I am very tired and out of it today, but I'm very grateful to God for yesterday. I managed to call a power company and set up electricity and internet for the new house, which is something I would have been too overwhelmingly terrified to do a year or two ago.

Mum helped me take all my shoes (apart from my favourite boots) and I put them on my new shoe rack in the new house, and we did a little grocery shopping, AND I helped take care of my grandmother and cook her tea since she's bedbound for the moment after her foot surgery.

Could only have done it with His help, because normally any one of those things would have tanked me immediately. And I know He's orchestrated it so that we have loads of time to move, when most people have to do it all in a day (which with my cfs would have been WAY too much).

Plus the fact that we were offered two houses the same day out of the blue, only 2 weeks ago, one either side of mum's good friend's place in town and very close to shops, when we weren't even actively looking for a house anymore! We'd given up last year and decided to stay put where we were (mum lives in a tiny A frame and I live with gran).

And THEN the owner of the one we picked hasn't upped the rent and kept it low and only charged us a very low bond. She's happy for the house to be in my name even though I have no rental history, and happy for us to have pets.

Earlier in the week I bought an old wooden school teacher's desk, a fairly fancy bureau desk, a shoe rack, a clothes rack and a gold floor lamp from the local op shop, and the man was super kind to me and sold them all to me for 70 Aus$ and they delivered them to the house for free (and he just let me have this cute little gold candleholder for free).

Lots of people have offered to help me and mum move. Mum's friend and lots of other people we know are super excited for us to be in the new house. We're planning on having a The Chosen based watch party and bible study once we're settled, and we'll definitely have an open door for visitors.

This will be my first house, the first that is officially mine. Mum's happily deferring to me in all decisions and reassures me that it's my home. I'm still anxious about so many things, but I'm really trying to let go of that (some of it is probably just physical because of the chronic fatigue, overdoing it can cause anxiety symptoms and make sleep quailty worse). I trust God, or at least I want to trust Him, and ask that He helps my unbelief, because I know full well that He is in this entire thing.

The last month or two we've been having prayer meetings and bible study, and I know God is using that and I believe our move is part of a bigger shifting in our community. Mum, our family friend and soon to be neighbour and I are all pretty involved with a lot of ice affected families and teens, and mum has been working in their lives for years and praying for them but hasn't seen a lot of change, but I get the sense that things are shifting. And I think us being central in town might make us a bit of a hub and a safe refuge. God's definitely at work!

Also we had a near immediate answer to prayer last night, when mum's chronically ill friend rang us distraught to tell us her elderly pocket chihuahua Spunky escaped the yard while she and her partner were away for the day for his cancer treatment.

Spunky literally weighs less than 2kg and is the tiniest little dog you've ever seen, and is blind, so we were all fearing the worst. They live next to a main road and it had been pouring with rain. Mum and I prayed, and literally 4 minutes later my cousin sent me a photo someone had posted in a closed local fb group saying that they'd picked up a soggy little old dog wandering near the road! We sent the woman a message with his owner's number and he got home safe.

I'm still sad about my bun Alfie passing from myxi virus, but he and Leesie are together again and he was very depressed after she passed. I tried to comfort him but he was so attached to her, and with the costs of moving and the exhaustion I couldn't have afforded another bunny friend for him. I also know he wouldn't have coped well with the change of moving. The vets were very kind to me, and put a little rose in his carrier when we brought him home to bury him.

I don't really know how to end off this long rambling journal entry of mine, but whether through hardship or blessing God is good and I love Him. I guess I just wanted to write down what's been happening lately and take a moment to get my head around it!

I've spent a good 85% of the last 5 years just having to rest and wait and I guess learn patience. It's been frustrating and sad and difficult a lot of the time, but I know that I've learned a huge amount from it. I still have chronic fatigue syndrome for the moment, and maybe I will continue to be unwell, but it does feel like a certain chapter of my life is over and a different one is beginning. Quite frankly I have very little idea of where my life is heading, but I know God is good and that He is in control so I don't have to be afraid.

[deeisace]

Right I'm sposed to keep it a secret even from my mum but none of you guys know my dad so I can talk here yeah?

Readmore here cs there was more words than I thought I'd say, tw for drugs and idk I hesitate to say abuse but really I guess, in the past

So like a month or so ago he split up with his partner of like almost 20 years - which I am upset for her, obviously, but also happy for dad tbh cs she um she still drinks and and stuff where my dad has been sober for like almost 2 years now, and he's off his not-heroin meds I can't spell for um like maybe two months idk (he told me he stopped taking heroin the christmas I was 15, I think it was, and he's been reducing the meds slowly since he got like alcohol-sober) - so he doesn't want that sort of um in his life anymore, y'know, and they'd been growing apart and all that stuff idk what like that he says - tho she is very very upset and I totally understand why, and why my two eldest brothers/her two kids aren't talking to dad atm

Anyway, all of that

The bit I'm sposed to be keeping secret is that like a week later he's started seeing someone else

And is very happy and she doesn't drink and she's really lovely in every way - she's downstairs now, they're in the garage smoking but I haven't met her cs I've gone to bed - y'know y'know good fine she likes bungee jumping and they're doing a skydive together at some point idk

But like

Hm

I mean

This is. Well I think it's a fair comment. That I haven't made to him but might talk to mum about whenever I'm allowed to stop keeping secrets

I don't like secrets and I'm very very bad at keeping them so

Anyway basically like

He's just done what he has always always done which

Well his relationship with my mum, the way she tells it, was mostly her (18-22, pretty freshly out of a cult and all that) moving away from him to stop him stealing her rent money to pay for drugs and putting his mobile contract in her name, and then him moving back in somehow

And then she finally fobbed him off when I was 4yo, and he spent weeks turning up and like begging her to take him back, and then one day said "we're getting married" and mum said "what the fuck are you talking about. I've told you no. I've told you no every day." And he's gone "oh not /you/" like that's obvious, "Sophie" who the fuck is Sophie? Literally never heard a word spoke of her or anything until that moment. And they were married for a bit, I do remember her pretty vaguely

And then idk how that's ended tbh cs I,, was like 5/6 and obviously not paying attention (reading books so I didn't have to watch dad do the tin foil thing and pass out on the sofa/my bed again, probably, if I was around for any of it and not just at home at mum's (mum didn't know about "the tin foil thing" til I was like 12-ish, big ish I can't remember)), and then pretty immediately he's got with my stepmum/the partner he's just now split with, which I think mostly only worked because they were both completely muntered the entire time and she wasn't with it enough to stop him or he was manipulative enough to stop her stopping him from putting his every bill and credit card in her name ("what's this new bill?" "oh yeah you told me I could last week, don't you remember?" "no? oh I spose" "don't you? god you are mental" actual verbatim when I lived with them when I was 16)

Anyway like now they're sober (or in her case a lot less drunk etc - which is admirable, she has got a hell of a lot better) he's gone, ah don't want that in my life, next

Which I mean

Big sigh

It is understandable that he wants to change his life, y'know, he doesn't want those influences any more, I get that - and I don't know what their like personal relationship was like, recently, because I (thankfully, tbh) don't live here and I've never talked to her much more than I needed to tbh she's,, a lot even when she's not drunk or whatever else - but it does seem. A bit unfair to say the very least. To her, y'know, for him to immediately be seeing someone else a week after they've split up - tho she doesn't yet know that

It just seems,, callous, to be so quick

And I've not met this new woman yet - I'm glad he likes her, but I hope she's not as easily um taken in and manipulated as his previous relationships have been

Mum's not, any longer - it took her 20 more years to get out of a differently-awful/manipulative relationship, but she's. She's really actually good now, and strong in herself, and living how she wants to (and shagging her neighbour from last summer in a fwb "definitely not a relationship and I hope he doesn't think I want that" kind of way, lmao congrats mum)

I don't know if dad leaving my stepmum won't just push her right back to more drinking and drugs again, I can't imagine she's coping well, really - she's got her sons, and friends about her, and nothing I say would be of any any use, even could I think of anything to say, and she wouldn't want to hear it anyway because she never liked me much either - but I hope that doesn't happen

[natasharswifey]

Take me home. (4)

Summary: Katya chases Yelena

____☆____

Tags: stalking (?), loss of emotion

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

(Complete)

Katya robotically packs her gear.

She wasn’t given much time to prepare for her mission, but she wasn’t tired. She’d had three months of rest after all.

“I trust you to complete this mission in good time, my star. Now go along.”

Doctor Smirnova sends Katya off at the gate. The final few checks on her brain had very positive results and she was confident her agent would succeed with ease.

____☆____

She drives down the motorway mindlessly, weaving between the odd vehicles with no idea where to start.

Her mind keeps going over a thousand possible locations Yelena could be, after all the doctor had give her literally nothing to work from except an order she physically had to follow.

Yelena didn’t have any family - as far as she knew - or anywhere to hide. The entire situation is finally beginning to take it’s toll on her body, the dark of the night enveloping her in it’s inviting notion of sleep.

The drop off point isn’t far away from her old apartment.

Nia and Rue, her old roommates didn’t know anything of her actual past, and she had no explaination for disppearing out of their lives as swiftly and silently as she entered after Yelena brought her back, but needed a place to rest.

Katya decides to risk delaying her mision by a few hours rather than colliding with another vehicle, failing, and takes the next few turns, which brings her back to the old apartment.

She leaves her bike in a tiny garage she probably shouldn’t have left it in, so as little people know of her visit as possible, and begins walking up the stairs.

She’d only been missing for a few months without explaination, it wasn’t like they were her parents or anything. Although Nia would probably give her a huge hug then smack her across the face for dissapearing off the face of the Earth.

She knocks on the door and stands there awkwardly, checking herself for any dust or things that may have clung to her on her way here when she hears what definitely must be Rue and Nia arguing over who’s going to get the door. After a few moments of bickering Katya hears Nia’s raised voice.

“Coming! Gimme a minute!”

A few seconds later the door opens and Katya feels even less prepared than she thought she would.

Nia looks exactly the same as the day she had left, obviously not much time had passed, but still. Her deep, brown eyes still held the same warmth that could give you a huge hug from miles away.

“Rio? Where have you been?! I thought you got kidnapped!” Nia doesn’t give the other girl any time to make excuses before pulling her into a bear hug.

“You’re back? I thought you got pregnant and dipped or something.” Rue quips with a grin from the doorway.

Any other time being smoothered by Nia and bullied by Rue would have made her feel safe and welcome, but none of it feels like it used to anymore.

A small part of Katya had hoped that seeing old friends again would have lit some spark or snapped her out of her indifference, but it isn’t doing anything.

Rue closes the door behind them and they all sit in their spots in the living room, Katya on the middle seat on the couch, Rue on her beanbag and Nia sitting on the arm of the couch no matter how often the girls had claimed how uncomfortable it must be.

“So where were you?!” Nia asks, wide eyed.

“I just… had some family stuff in Russia.”

“Is everyone okay?” Rue pipes up.

“Yep, it’s no big deal. I would’ve told you guys before I left but it all just happened so quickly, you know?”

Katya knows that if she slips up one sentence that Rue will pick up on it. The girl is so diligent Katya wouldn’t be surprised if she was a Widow herself.

“You’re all good, Rio.”

“Yeah. We’re just glad to have you back.”

After a while of catching up and exchanging jokes Katya notices an hour has already passed. She’d only intended on getting an hour or two of sleep and going back on her way but it was nearing twelve.

Nia yawns as if on que. “I’m kinda tired now, I’m gonna get some sleep. We didn’t rent your room out luckily for you so, all your stuff is still there.”

“Except Nia may have stolen a hoodie or two because she missed you oh so much.“ Rue teases which promots Nia to bop her on the head on her way out to her room.

“Night, guys.” The pair return their goodnights to the girl and the living room is left in silence until Rue decides to speak.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing much, just a little tired.”

“Yeah of course, sure you aren’t like sick or anything?”

“I’m sure Rue. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know. Just like you know I don’t have the most desirable relationship with my family. So if you wanna talk about it, I’ll probably understand you.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

With that the pair retreat to their rooms for the night, and when Katya looks through her closet for anything useful she finds two of her old hoodies are, in fact, missing.

____☆____

Katya wakes to an alarm she set herself earlier and quickly shuts it back off, running a hand through her hair which is clammy.

It was the first dreamless or nightmareless night she’d had in years and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

Her eyes are trained on her old laptop. She never would have left it had she had the time to take or destroy it, but luckily it still had some software and old files that would be useful.

She stands and opens the thankfully locked device, restoring old pages and searching through storage.

She searches ‘blonde Russian assassins 2016’ and obviously nothing comes up, so decides to dig a little deeper, using an extremely unreliable and probably virus-causing facial recognition site to try and find her, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally catching a snippet of her face fleeing a scene. It’s all she needs.

Katya runs the picture through every engine imaginable for hours, until finally she finds another angle from a security camera.

After meticulously searching the background of the singular picture, she finds a resturaunt about an hour away. She finds another website and searches through encrypted links for the data of every hotel, motel, hostel and airbnb in a 20 mile radius.

By the time she gets another lead the sun has begun ascending and she packs her laptop away, leaving everything as it was and shutting the door behind her.

“You’re up early.” Rue remarks, trying her best not to let any toothpaste spill out of her mouth on the living room carpet as she brushes her teeth.

“I think you’re supposed to do that in the bathroom.”

“Lookn’ for sum.” She slurrs, running to the bathroom and back into the living room to continue the conversation, but by the time she returns Katya is gone.

____☆____

The early morning air is too cool for the weather, the kind that only seems appealing on a hot summer’s day, but Katya pushes on. Hopefully Yelena hasn’t already moved on.

She doesn’t know how long exactly she has been on the run or if she thinks nobody knows where she is, although that would be foolish.

Katya stops a few streets away, knowing the older girl will recognise her bike from miles away, and leaves her leather jacket and helmet at the front of the hotel near some sort of locker.

She approaches a friendly-looking older woman at the front desk. “Hey there, I was just wondering if you’ve maybe seen a young blonde woman? About this tall.” She gestures with her hand and the woman’s smile shrinks a little.

“I’m sorry, my dear. We aren’t allowed to give out that sort of information, it’s policy I’m afraid.”

Katya has to play this carefully. She makes her face crumple up, trying to give the impression of fending off tears. “I’m so sorry, I know, but she’s my big sister and I just want her to come home... can’t you please help me?”

The woman definitely could not have guessed what their sisterhood was bound by, nor where ‘home’ was and looks sympathetic for the young teenage girl.

“I’ll tell you what…” she looks around before typing up on her computer “Olivia, right? A little short, interesting accent?”

“Yes.” It made sense for Yelena to have a cover name, but she was just too memorable unfortunately for her.

“Alright, you didn’t hear this from me but she may be in room 34.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” She whispers, and the older woman smiles and taps her nose.

____☆____

Katya knocks on the door.

It only takes a few seconds for Yelena’s steps to approach, she can feel the caution in them.

“I don’t need room service.”

“I’m not room service.”

The door immediately swings open. “Katya?”

[caroldantops]

slithered here from eden

or, tell me you love me in private: chapter 2

(prev. chapter | next chapter)

ship: natasha romanoff x reader

summary/request: natasha’s new favorite hobby is annoying you while you’re trying to work. (demon!nat au)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: references to christianity and also some heavy making out (smut in later chapters)

masterlist | ao3 link

“Suspense,” Natasha had promised.

You supposed that it was suspenseful enough wondering if she would even leave you in suspense. You didn’t see her anymore throughout the week, so you honestly thought that she’d leave you waiting to see her again for months. Or maybe never again.

But really, you just had to wait until Sunday.

Today, you’re lucky enough to not have to hand out pamphlets. Instead, you just get to help out in the kitchen as the old ladies prepare some food for everyone after service. The kitchen has several huge fans hooked up, so even with the heat from the appliances, it’s not nearly as bad as standing around elsewhere.

Plus, it’s always nice to listen to them chatter about silly things - like what their grandchildren have been up to or how funny it is that so many kids these days are dying their hair green - while you pop open canisters of readymade biscuits and plop them on a big baking sheet.

“You know, Barbara used to make biscuits fresh every week,” you hear one of them say over your shoulder.

“Oh, really? What happened?”

“She passed away last month, didn’t she?” The voice you’ve been wondering if you’d hear for days jerks your attention away from the dough in your hands.

The other ladies seem to feel uneasy around Natasha, which you kind of understand. Even other than her domineering, yet aloof attitude, she’s an old religious grandmother’s worst nightmare in her ripped - more like shredded - jeans and tight leather jacket that smells a bit like gasoline. Your kitchen companions move to the other side of the room and some even excuse themselves to go take food to the dining area.

“How did you know that?” You ask more accusingly than you really meant. If Natasha notices, she doesn’t seem to care.

“I stopped by the memorial,” Natasha says simply.

“Did you know her?”

“No.”

“You’re weird, you know that?”

“There’s that bite again. How am I weird, angel?” Natasha’s lip curls up in amusement. That nickname is starting to sound less cute and more condescending the more she uses it.

“You have this weird fascination with death,” you state plainly. Breaking your eye contact and finishing up the baking sheet of biscuits.

“Fascination? No,” Natasha shakes her head, leaning her back against the counter and watching your furrowed brow with great amusement. “Fascination is how I feel when I see someone who decides to spend their time helping old ladies make biscuits when they could be out having fun. Or sleeping in.”

“Maybe I like making biscuits.”

“Or, maybe you feel some sort of obligation to this place,” Natasha shrugs, chewing on the nail of her pinky finger. “Or you just need to feel useful.”

“Are you just going to stand there and psychoanalyze me? Or do you wanna help?” You huff, opening the oven and sticking the biscuits in. You stomp away from Natasha, rummaging through the fridge for butter. From behind you, you hear the timer for the first round of biscuits go off.

“I got it,” Natasha says.

You sigh, silently kicking yourself for being annoyed with Natasha. She didn’t seem to be saying these things aggressively, just matter-of-factly. But it just irritated you that maybe she was a little bit correct.

“Thanks, Nat,” you turn around and gasp when you see Natasha standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at you blankly with the tray of biscuits in her hand. Her bare hand.

“Where should I put these?” She asks as if she wasn’t touching a pan that had just come out of a four hundred degree industrial oven.

“Down! Anywhere! Is your hand not literally burning right now? Jesus, Natasha!”

Natasha has barely put the tray down before you’re tugging her by her arm over to the large sink. You start rinsing her hand with cold water she just stares at you dumbly.

“It’s okay, it didn’t burn me,” she says. “I’ve got thick skin.”

“While I do agree with that statement...” you scoff, tracing your fingers over her calloused hand. You were about to add that you’re positive that she could not have been holding that tray without burning herself, but it appears that she’s right. There’s no evidence of even any redness on her pale skin. “Are you fireproof or something?”

“I told you, I’ve got thick skin. I thought maybe you were just ignoring me so you had an excuse to hold my hand.”

“What?” You flinch, dropping her hand as she laughs at you. “I was just trying to help!”

“It’s cute that you think I need you to help. I am fully capable of putting cold water on my own hand,” Natasha says with a smug look on her face. She dries her hand using the edge of her shirt, and you’re fighting the urge to glance at the exposed skin.

“Next time when you actually burn yourself, I’m not going to help you.”

“Sure you aren’t, angel.”

--

Natasha continues to pop up out of nowhere and bother you constantly. She kept showing up during the week at your work, making you give her samples of just about every ice cream flavor before settling on chocolate chip cookie dough every single time. Being on the clock, you couldn’t do much more than shoot glares at her every time she asked for “just one more” sample.

“Do you like, have a job or something?” You ask her one day while handing her a sample of cake batter ice cream (this is the third time she’s tasted it this week).

“Yeah, eating all your ice cream and being hot. Can I try the raspberry sorbet next?”

The next few Sundays were filled with Natasha as well. Whether you were helping out in the kitchen or passing out pamphlets to people, Natasha always found a way to hang around and poke fun at every single thing you do or say.

“What are you doing?” Natasha leans over the back of the pew you’re sitting in.

“Hush, people are listening to the sermon,” you whisper. Somehow - definitely not because you think it’s fun to hear Natasha make comments about the various parables that the priest spouts - you’ve come to enjoy sitting in the back of the sanctuary with her. Not with her, with her. Just close enough so you can hear her mumble about how “it doesn’t even make sense, how would someone become a pillar of salt.”

“You’re not.”

“I am listening, I’m just also embroidering.” You show her the pair of jeans that you’re working on. Natasha delicately touches the small leaf pattern you’ve stitched onto the back pocket. You watch her with amusement - she’s touching it with such hesitation, almost as if she’s afraid to mess up your work. “I’ve only just started learning, so I’m starting small.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Maybe it’s just because she’s whispering, but the genuine admiration in her tone leaves you wonderstruck. You mumble “thank you” and try to ignore the way Natasha is staring at you.

“It’s almost done. After I finish it, I can do something for you, if you’d like.”

“Do you think it would look stupid to put flames on my ass?”

Your giggling was promptly shushed by the old man in front of you, and Natasha flipping him off from behind didn’t help you stop.

--

The week following, somehow you’ve gotten yourself roped into taking some of the old chairs down from the dining hall down to the basement. Given the fact that you were the youngest person in the whole building though, you didn’t feel that bad about volunteering.

But after dropping the last couple of the chairs halfway down the stairs, you silently scream to yourself for being too damn nice and saying you could handle doing this on your own. You let the chairs drag behind you, banging them obnoxiously against the stairs and not caring that you’re probably disturbing people.

As you put them against the wall with a sigh, you hear heavy footsteps behind you.

“It’s okay, I’ve got everything!”

“Someone asked me to bring this table down.” You turn at the sound of Natasha’s voice, and you can’t help but let your mouth fall open as you see her with one long folding table thrown over one shoulder as if it were made of cardboard. Her tank top leaves none of her muscles hidden, and you have to mentally slap yourself for staring so hard. She drops the table unceremoniously, shaking her hand as she pinches her finger on one of the folding bits. “Well, technically they wanted you to come get it. But I told them you were busy enough.”

“Thank you, that was sweet of you,” you smile.

For once, you’re the one leaving Natasha flustered.

“I’m not sweet,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure, helping out old church ladies is just a hobby of yours.”

“No, that’s you,” Natasha shoots back. “I don’t do shit for them.”

“Then why are you always helping with things lately?” You roll your eyes. In the blink of an eye, you’re shoved against the brick wall behind you. You brace yourself for something - what that is, you’re not sure - but all that comes is a finger tilting your chin up. Natasha’s gaze is heavy, and if one of her hands wasn’t pinning your shoulder in place, you would probably be shrinking under it. “Nat? Did I do something wrong?”

To your surprise, she chuckles at that.

“You really are a dumb little human. So oblivious,” she says.

“Wh-” You try to ask her what the hell she’s talking about but are suddenly distracted by her tracing her thumb along your bottom lip. You no longer tremble with fear, but with the arousal that’s shooting through you straight to your core.

“I wouldn’t give this place two seconds of my time if you weren’t around here, angel.”

Your breath catches as she starts leaning in, but you let her take control, guiding your lips to hers and immediately pressing her whole body against your own as they connect. She kisses you with an intensity that has you quivering and tugging at her shirt to bring her impossibly closer.

Natasha’s teeth nip at your bottom lip, and you gasp because of how sharp her teeth feel against you. Natasha takes that opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, greedily taking everything that you’ll give her.

You feel a million degrees hotter all of a sudden, but chalk it up to the warm body pressed against your own. Natasha’s hands pull at your hips, leaving both of you grinding against each other and moaning at the friction. Her nails dig into you, and you swear you feel them pierce through the fabric of your pants.

Natasha growls deep in her chest, and your knees practically buckle at the sound, mumbling a “Fuck, Nat” against her lips.

“Watch that mouth, baby,” Natasha smiles against your lips. “We’re in the House of God, after all.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Mhmm.”

You bring your hands up to tangle in her hair, but you stop cold when your fingers run against something hard and ridged. Your hesitation must have been palpable because Natasha pulls back and looks at you with worried eyes.

Worried eyes that suddenly look a lot redder than her usual deep green.

“Something wrong, angel?”

“Nat, have you always had horns?”

Dead silence falls over the two of you, both unable to process everything that’s happening, both still tangled in each other.

“Well, shit.”

[fratboykate]

I’m fucking sobbing wtf is that bar fight and train mess… I NEED THE POST 3 WEEKS UPDATE PLEASE

"I'll see you around?"

Yelena asks and Kate offers a half-smile in response. It's a tender, genuine smile, but it's barely there. Kate steps far back, past beyond where their hands extend and their fingers slip out from each other's.

"I'll see you around."

Yelena takes a final good look at Kate, then turns away from her and allows the door to close behind her.

Yelena doesn't take two steps away from the door when the tears she's been holding finally fall freely. The tears keep coming on her way to the train, the entire train ride back, and don't stop - day or night - for three weeks straight.

---

Six weeks pass since that morning in New York.

They hardly talk that first month. Yelena checks in to see how Kate's bruises are doing, but Kate doesn't seem to allow many conversations otherwise. Her vibe seems different now from what Yelena remembers when they last saw each other. There was an glimmer of hope in the air the day Yelena left New York but almost immediately after, Kate’s responses become curt and to the point.

Although Yelena doesn't sob at all times anymore, she continues to cry herself to sleep every night or bursts into tears when she remembers that her marriage is currently in shambles. She strives to compartmentalize, to push it down and out of her mind so she can focus, but this is bigger than her. These feelings are more potent than her forced attempt at rationalizing them. Still, if this thing might cost her her marriage, then she might as well make it worth it, so Yelena doubles down and works. Sometimes through tears, but she works.

---

One night sometime before the seventh week rolls around, and after a particularly tough day, she gives in and Facetimes Kate for the first time. Yelena isn't sure she's going to pick up, but she's at least going to try. It rings, and rings, and the Facetime fails. Yelena nods and does her best to pretend that it doesn't get to her.

---

Two hours later, she's in bed watching whatever mindless thing she played on Netflix to make the apartment not as quiet.

This should've been one of Kate's weeks with her in Boston. Those are the hardest ones to get through because Yelena can't help but constantly think about what Kate would be doing if she were here with her. Imagining Kate in bed next to her, saying or doing something that drove her up the wall, pushes Yelena into her now-familiar sobbing state.

Her phone rings. It's an incoming Facetime and Kate's contact picture fills the screen. The photo is a candid of the two of them dressed to the nines at one of Kate's work events earlier this year, where Kate yanked Yelena in for a kiss, and Yelena burst out laughing as a result of the unexpected jerking of her body. Yelena has not seen this picture pop up on her phone for almost two months. She stares at it, taking it in. After a beat of getting lost in the memory, she remembers the phone is ringing and she needs to answer. Yelena hastily does her best to dry her face and make herself seem even a smidge less pathetic. She wipes her cheeks with the sheets then answers.

Kate's face pops up on the screen. It's the first time Yelena has seen her not through a picture or an Instagram story in over six weeks. Kate is lying in bed with a button-down shirt still on.

"Hi."

Yelena's voice is timid.

"Hey. Sorry, I was at a thing. Literally just got home."

"It's 2 AM on a Tuesday."

"We were having dinner with some Chinese investors. They're in town and we're trying to woo them into writing a check. Turns out they are not as reserved as we thought. They can drink."

"Ha."

Kate notices Yelena's face. She can immediately tell Yelena has been crying.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

Yelena pauses. She wonders if concealing her hurt or being unguarded is the correct route here. Then she considers that maybe not being vulnerable enough for the past year is what got them here and she opts for that.

"Not really."

Kate straightens and concern covers her face.

"What happened?"

"I miss my wife. A lot."

"Hmmm..."

Kate doesn't offer more than that and Yelena can hear her already fragile heart cracking inside her chest.

"It's your birthday soon."

"I know."

"What crazy, over the top, borderline irresponsible thing are you planning this year?"

Kate chuckles.

"Not really in a party mood, so haven't thought of anything. Probably nothing...but Suze and I are going away."

"On your birthday?"

"Yeah. We're gonna go to London for a week. We both have friends there. She's playing hooky from school and I could get away from here for a bit."

The crack in Yelena's heart grows. She was hoping - more like counting on - Kate's birthday being the perfect excuse to see each other in person again.

"Oh..." They sit in silence. It's not entirely awkward, but it's also not completely comfortable. Yelena is the one to speak first. "If you end up doing something for your birthday...before or after...I can come. I could see you."

Kate sits in silence for a moment longer.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Yelena's heart is about to fall to pieces at this point. "No one really knows, so we'd have to pretend, or people would start asking questions."

"I think they're going to ask more questions if I'm not there, no?"

"It's not like you haven't missed big shit before." Kate retorts with an accusatory undertone that she didn't necessarily mean to have in there. She softens her stance. "I don't think it's a great idea."

"I've never not been with you for your birthday."

"It's gonna be weird. For sure."

Yelena doesn't know where the bluntness comes from, but she asks one of the questions that's been swirling around in her mind for the past month and a half.

"Are we not going to see each other for our anniversary either?"

Kate inhales and exhales deeply.

"I don't know."

"Kate..."

"It's weeks away."

"It's a little over a month and if we're doing something or going somewhere, we should plan it."

"Yelena...we're not going anywhere."

That's the final blow. Yelena's heart entirely falls to pieces.

"Wow, so you're making unilateral decisions now?"

"Let's table this for a while, okay? I don't wanna argue. Especially not about something that's so far ahead."

They sit in silence for what feels like ages.

"I can't not see you that day. I'm already apparently not going to see you on your birthday. I can't do our anniversary as well."

"Let's talk about it later, yeah? I'm exhausted and I'm sure you are too. You should go to sleep."

"Kate, I don't sleep. I haven't had a good night's sleep since I left New York."

Kate remains silent.

"I know this sucks. It's not like I'm having a blast over here, but I think it's for the best, and right now, we need to stick with it."

"It's not the best for me."

"I'm going to sleep, Yelena."

"Are you ever going to stop being this cold with me? You said you believed me when I said I was sorry, but you don't act like it. I am...sorry, I mean."

"I do believe you...I should go."

"Kate..." Yelena sighs. "Can I at least call you for your birthday?"

"Of course...of course. I'd be kind of offended if you didn't." Kate laughs softly. "I'm gonna go."

"Okay."

They both linger for a moment.

"By the way..."

"What?"

"I know the feeling...of missing my wife. A fuck ton." Yelena smiles and nods. "Have a good night."

"You too."

Kate ends the call and Yelena immediately breaks down. She cries until after the sun comes up.

---

Nighttime. London. Kate sits at a pub table surrounded by people. She's wearing the cheap birthday crown and sash that Suze bought her. It reads "Dirty Thirty".

Her phone rings. It's Yelena Facetiming her.

"I'll be right back."

Kate answers while rushing out of the pub and onto the sidewalk.

"Hang on! It's loud as fuck in here!" Kate makes it outside and it immediately quiets down. "Hey."

"Hi you! You look good in a crown."

Yelena smiles and chuckles.

"I saw you've called. Sorry. We've been all over the place."

"I thought you were hiding from me."

Kate awkwardly laughs. There might have been a bit of that.

"No, Suze had a 'You're Old As Fuck' celebratory day planned. We were running around."

"Happy Birthday."

Kate smiles.

"Thank you."

"How does it feel to be thirty?"

"No different than twenty-nine yet."

"I can't believe I'm missing your thirtieth. Feels like a big deal."

Kate sits on the curb outside the bar.

"It's a birthday."

"You love birthdays. You always make a big spectacle out of them. I feel like I ruined a massive one for you."

"Nah, you didn't."

"You'd been talking about it basically since your last birthday happened and now you're not doing anything? You're somewhere else with...I don't know who...away from your friends...away from me...it feels off."

"It's an off year. Seems appropriate."

They sit in silence, the sound of the street and the people around Kate taking over.

"I should be with you."

"Coulda, shoulda, woulda...doesn't do anyone any favors."

"I miss you. The old you...the one I didn't feel like I was forcing to talk to me."

Kate huffs out a breath.

"How's your thing coming?"

"Don’t change the subject, please."

"You want me to talk to you. I'm trying to do that and you're complaining. I don't get you."

"I want you to talk to me about shit that matters."

"Oh, all of a sudden, your Super Important Dissertation doesn't matter? Where was that energy this past year?"

"I can't undo what happened whenever ago, Kate. But I'm trying to fix it in the present and you're not letting me."

"I can't do this right now."

"When do we do it then?"

"I'm literally in the middle of the fucking street, dude."

"It's not like you make an effort to talk to me even when you're not."

"Did you call just to fight with me?"

"No. I called because I wanted to see your face and hear your voice. And to wish you happy birthday and tell you that I lo..."

"Hiiiiiiiiiii!"

A drunk twenty-year-old Suze walks out of the pub with her friends in tow and immediately spots Kate sitting on the curb talking to Yelena. She rushes over and looks over Kate's shoulder, totally interrupting the conversation.

"Hey."

"Can you two make up already? This loser is LAME AS HELL right now. Y'all are annoying as shit when you're together with all the soulmate energy dripping off of you that makes the rest of us feel self-conscious about our lives, but you're even more annoying now. This mopey thing you both got going on? LAMEEEEEEEEE."

"Okay. Bye!"

Kate pushes her sister away. Suze rushes back and hovers where she stood.

"You know I'm right! This whole thing is the worst idea ever. You're both miserable. Stop acting like you're not. Suck it up and fix it."

"You need to go. Start walking. I'll meet you in a second."

Kate pushes her again.

"Stop being D U M B." Suze spells out the word letter by letter. "Fix it."

Suze stumbles away.

"I should go. I somehow ended up babysitting a bunch of college kids and if you think we were bad...THEY need adult supervision at all times."

"Kate..."

"I need to go."

"Call me later. When you get back to your hotel. So I know you made it there safe."

"Sure. Yeah."

"COME ONNNNNN!"

Kate turns to find Suze and the rest of their group staring at her.

"I need to go."

"Be careful."

"I will."

"CAN YOU MOVE?!"

"I'M COMING!"

"I lo..."

Before Yelena can say it, Kate hangs up. She didn't even notice Yelena was halfway through a sentence.

Yelena gets up from where she sat and pours herself a drink. She takes one sip and then opens her photo gallery on her phone. She starts scrolling through pictures of her and Kate. Within a minute, the tears are back.

—

Hours later. 4 AM London time, 11 PM Boston time.

Yelena is in bed when Kate's contact picture pops up on her screen anew. She sits up. Kate shows up on the other side. She has that sleepy drunk face Yelena is quite familiar with.

"You know what no one prepares you for? Your little sister having sex."

Yelena cackles at how abruptly the conversation started.

"What???"

"We came back to the hotel and she brought a short little roach-looking asshole with her, which means she's in her room...having sex. I wanna barge in there and beat him up. I have a key. I could."

"Don't go beat up your sister's hook up."

"He's not even hot!...In theory, *I KNEW*. We've talked about it. But seeing her walking into her room with a guy and..."

Kate shivers at the thought. Yelena laughs.

"Stop thinking about it."

"Kinda hard."

"Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"You look tired. Did you have water? It'll help with tomorrow's hangover."

Kate points the camera at the two glasses of water on her nightstand.

"Yes, mother."

They fall into their now familiar silence.

"I can distract you. Maybe tire you out."

"Hmmmmmm..." Kate sleepily hums. "...how?" Yelena puts her phone down for a second, and when she comes back into view, her shirt is off. She's naked from the waist up. "Yel..."

"I've never not seen you or had sex with you on your birthday. First already passed, but there's...forty-eight minutes left on your birthday here. Can still keep one of those traditions alive."

"We can't do this?"

"Why not? You said 'no rules'. Who's saying we can't?"

"This is a bad idea..."

"You love those, don't you?"

"I do."

"Then let me at least pretend I'm touching you. I've been thinking about it all day...all day."

"You're killing me."

"Take your shirt off." Kate's resolve crumbles. Without hesitation, she pulls her sleeping t-shirt over her head. Now she's equally as naked as Yelena. "Good girl."

Kate's pulse quickens and her breath is labored.

"Do you remember Madrid?"

"Hard to forget."

"You remember what I said to you that last night?"

"That I'm a..."

"MEN ARE THE BIGGEST TURDS IN THE ENTIRE WORLD." Suze barges into Kate's room unannounced. She has thick tears streaming down her face. "You are so fucking lucky you do the girl thing. I wish I could. So bad!"

"Dude...can you fucking knock?!"

"Ewww, put a shirt on. I don't wanna look at grandma boobs." Kate hastily reaches for her t-shirt and puts it on. That's when Suze notices Yelena, who has quickly thrown a pillow on her chest, on the screen. "OOOOOOOOOH, were you two...?"

"NO!" Kate counters firmly. // "Kinda..." Yelena answers at the same time.

"Double ew! I don't wanna know!"

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"CUZ HE'S THE BIGGEST MOTHERFUCKER I'VE EVER MET!"

Kate's drunk brain takes a beat to catch up with everything going on around it, then her eyes go wide, and her blood runs cold.

"Did he hurt you?! Did he..."

"NO! No...not like that. He's just a giant fucking prick."

"He was the biggest piece of shit we met tonight. How did you think it was going to go?"

"Can you not?!"

Suze cries harder.

"Sorry. Hang on." Kate grabs the phone and raises it so her face is in the frame again. "Hey. I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Sure."

Kate ends the call. Yelena throws her phone aside, grabs the pillow that is over her chest, lifts it to her face, and screams into it.

---

Kate doesn't call the next day. Yelena doesn't hear from her for days actually. Then she gets a text when she's in a lecture.

TEXT: "I switched my flight back to Logan instead of JFK. I just landed."

Yelena has never packed her stuff faster in her life. She exits the lecture hall and dials Kate immediately.

"What?"

"I was going to call, but I wasn't sure if you were busy."

"No. No. I'm not. You're here?"

"I'm only here for a day. I'm staying at the Four Seasons across the Commons. I'm on my way there now."

Yelena's heart is beating out of her chest.

"Can I come see you?"

"You'll probably get there before I do. Pick any of the restaurants around there and tell me which one once you're there. I'll drop my stuff off and come meet you."

"Okay. Okay."

"I'll see you in a bit."

"See you in a bit."

---

Yelena picks a restaurant they both love. It's only a couple of blocks away from the hotel. She sits at a table, nervously looking at her phone. Kate texted that she got to the hotel and was checking in about fifteen minutes ago, so Yelena thinks she should be here any second.

Yelena takes a long sip of her double whiskey while her eyes are glued to the door. Then, it swings open and there's Kate. All long legs, dark hair, and blue eyes. Yelena's breath hitches when Kate makes eye contact with her and nods, acknowledging she saw her from across the room.

"Sorr..."

Before Kate can get an entire word out, Yelena's arms are wrapped around her in a hug. Kate hesitates, but she reciprocates after a second. A million unsaid words are being uttered right now, but neither is sure the other is speaking the same language.

Kate unwraps her hands from around Yelena first and after a few seconds of not being held back, Yelena ends the embrace. They're still standing an inch apart. Yelena looks up at Kate.

"You smell good. You always do."

"I was just on a flight for six and a half hours and at an airport for two before that. I doubt I smell like anything but thank you."

Kate steps back from Yelena and sits at the table. Yelena sits across from her. Neither of them says a word.

"Happy Birthday."

Kate chuckles.

"Thank you."

"I have a gift...back at my place...I have your gift."

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"I was going to mail it once I knew you were back. If I knew...I would've had it with me."

"It's fine. I didn't know I was doing this until I got to the airport. Impulsive Kate strikes again..."

Yelena smiles.

"Sometimes your impulses are good."

"Sometimes."

The silence is deafening between them.

"Let’s get out of here."

Yelena asks and Kate looks taken aback.

"What?"

"Let me make you dinner. It's your birthday. I want to make you dinner."

"Yelena......it hasn't been my birthday for days."

"Come on. Your gift is back at my place too. I can give it to you and then make food." Kate doesn't respond and her eyes are fixed on the table. "I'll go get the check."

Yelena stands and disappears. Kate sighs and buries her face in her hands.

---

The train ride and walk back to the apartment are mostly silent, gaps of awkwardness forcefully filled by stilted conversation.

They finally reach Yelena's apartment. The moment they walk inside, she disappears to the back.

"I'll get your gift. Sit."

Kate begrudgingly does. Seconds later, Yelena appears holding a delicately wrapped box. She extends it and Kate takes it. Kate carefully unwraps it, and inside, she finds a leather-bound book with a small envelope on top. Kate moves the envelope aside and picks up the book.

It's a custom archery scoring notebook with Kate’s initials engraved on the bottom right corner of the brown leather cover. The expensive pen hanging from the loop strap on the inside of the cover is also engraved with initials. The scoring sheets are held by a three-ring binder style spine, allowing the pages to be switched out once they are all used.

Kate looks up at Yelena for a fleeting moment, then grabs the envelope and opens it. It's a membership card to an archery range.

"I know you haven't shot much lately, but you've mentioned wanting to go back a few times. It’s a twelve-month pass to this new range right outside the city. It has both outdoor and indoor spaces, which means you can go year-round. Figured you could use the notebook to keep track of your visits."

"This is cool." Kate tells her sincerely. "I have been wanting to get into it again...thank you."

"Of course."

Silence fills the space between them again.

"Do you want a beer while I make food?"

"I...haven't been drinking beers lately."

Yelena ogles at her, perplexed.

"That's...what?!"

"I've been hitting the gym pretty hard. I feel like I kinda lost that too. It helps keep my head clear these days, keep the noise out...Trying to get that V Line back." Kate forces a laugh. "I've been sticking with liquor. At least until I get to where I want to be. Makes the hangovers WAYYYYYY worse, but I'm not going out or drinking as much anyway."

"I don't know what my wife looks like not holding a beer."

Kate huffs half a laugh.

"I'm not swearing them off forever. Only for a little bit."

Yelena studies Kate's face.

"You look different."

"Must be the whole 'being in your 30s thing'."

"No. You're sad. Your eyes, they look sad."

"Hasn't exactly been a great year. Work is...not good right now. Just a lot of shit going on."

"Talk to me."

"Nah, it's fine."

"Two seconds ago, you made it clear it wasn't fine."

"I didn't come here for a therapy session."

"Then why did you come?"

Kate sits in silence for a long time.

"I don't know. I saw there was a flight to Logan forty-five minutes after my original flight left and I decided to get on it. Didn't really think it through. Maybe it was a bad idea."

"It wasn't...it wasn't."

Kate nods.

"I should go back to the hotel."

Kate stands. Yelena grabs her arm.

"Don't. You haven't even had food. You were flying all day. It'll take me a bit, but...you can stay here tonight. Even if it gets late, you can stay."

"No."

"Kate..."

"We're not there yet."

"Are we ever going to be?"

Kate holds for a beat.

"I don't know."

"Then what was the point of this? If we're not working towards a solution, then what was the fucking point?"

"I never said we were working towards a solution. I said 'we'll see where we're at in six months."

"You haven't made ANY effort to change where we're at and we're a third of the way there. What happens if we get to six months and it still feels like this?"

"We know what happens."

"God, you don't buy that. One look at you and it's so easy to tell you don't buy that. You want this to work again just as badly as I do, so why are you also actively sabotaging it?"

"I'm gonna go."

Kate stands and heads to the door.

"WILL YOU PLEASE HAVE A FUCKING CONVERSATION WITH ME?! A REAL ONE!"

"What do you want me to say?! That I look at you and all I see is the person who never got on the fucking train? Who chose not to be there without thinking twice?"

"I'm not! How many times do I need to apologize for that?!"

"You should've just gotten on the fucking train."

Kate heads to the door.

"Kate...Kate...KATE!"

Kate leaves and never looks back. She leaves her gift behind. 

---

An hour later, there's a knock on Kate's hotel door. Kate glances at it confused, then moves to answer it. Yelena is on the other side. She doesn't let Kate get a word in before she pushes past her and into the room.

"No. You're not avoiding me anymore. I'm not letting you."

"I have to pick up my rental and start driving back super early. I was about to go to sleep."

"I don't give a single fuck, Kate. I'm going to ask you one question and all you have to do is answer it honestly. None of the bullshit beating around the bush and pussy footing you've been doing for over two months. Do you want this to work or not?"

"I don't know!"

Yelena never thought three words could hurt as profoundly.

"Wrong answer. That's the wrong answer, Katherine."

"My entire fucking life, I was surrounded by people who never chose me, who always had something more important or more pressing or that they thought deserved their attention more. I was always tossed aside for THE DUMBEST shit. I made it to the final trials of the Olympic team my senior year of high school. Beat out hundreds of people and was one day of trials away from getting a slot on the team. My mom said she couldn't show up because she had a tea afternoon already booked. Drinks...with her friends. That was more important than watching me maybe come get a spot to the fucking Olympics. I was so fucking mad. I was furious and I blew it. On purpose. I wasn't going to give her another thing to gloat about to her stupid country club bitches. She wasn't going to get to talk about 'her daughter in the Olympic team'. Fuck that."

"You never..."

"The only person who never made me feel like I was disposable you. Until this last year when everything seemed to be more important. I kept justifying it in my head, kept making up the excuses for you. I was your defender inside my own brain. I kept giving you chances to change it. You never did and then you didn't get on the fucking train. All you had to do was get on the train. Fuck!"

"You should've told me!"

"I should've told you to be a better wife?! No one should have to say that shit. I asked you if your fucking dissertation was more important than us and YOU HESITATED. That should've been the easiest 'no' on the planet, but you had to fucking think about it, dude. YOU HAD TO THINK ABOUT IT!"

"I wasn't! You caught me off guard and I was trying to get my thoughts together."

"Bullshit. You can feed that shit to someone who doesn't know you as well as I do. You hesitated and you know it. I refuse to do that to myself anymore. I let them do it to me for years, but I won't willingly take that shit from anyone else. Even if it's you. So I don't know if I want this to work. You wanted an answer. There...you have it."

Yelena is crying by now.

"There's nothing more important than you, Kate Bishop."

"You can say whatever you want, dude. Words are words. You spent a year proving otherwise."

"AND I WAS WRONG! FUCK! YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME! You're stuck back then and you're not hearing me now. I'm talking to you right now...I fucked up. I was wrong. It won't happen again. I will get on the train every fucking time. Literally and metaphorically."

"I think you should go."

"No."

"Yelena, leave."

"No. I'm not. Tell me how I fix it."

"I don't have an answer for you. Please go."

"Fucking talk to me. I want this to work. More than anything. Talk to me."

"I don't know what difference words will make. I think we may be past the point of speaking. Go."

Kate glues her eyes to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yelena nods. She digs into her bag and takes out the gift Kate left at the apartment. 

“You forgot this, by the way.”

Yelena places it on the bed and heads for the door. Before she leaves, she looks back at Kate.

"I love you. You haven't heard me say it in a long time and I don't want you to forget how it sounds. *I* don't want to forget how it sounds when I tell you. I love you...Do with that information what you will."

Yelena turns and exits. Despite the hotel being a two-hour walk from her apartment, she chooses to make the trek because she refuses to let anyone on the train and the bus watch her sob.

---

Yelena's calls and texts go unanswered for the following nine days. On the tenth day, Kate gets a text at around 5:30 PM.

TEXT: "You said we were past the point of speaking and maybe you're right. I can tell you I'm choosing you until I'm blue in the face, but you have to see it. I'm back in New York. For good. I'm staying at my parent's for now. I can explain if you're interested in listening, but I'm here because I choose you. Over everything else."

Kate immediately calls. Yelena answers on the first ring.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"We're not having this conversation over the phone."

"Yelena, what did you do?!"

"Where are you?"

"On my way home."

"I can come explain if you're open to listening, but this isn't happening over the phone."

"Yelena..."

"Do you want me to come or not?"

"I'll be home in twenty."

"It'll probably take me like an hour, but I'll be there."

Kate hangs up without another word.

---

Yelena lets herself in with the key she still has. She finds Kate pacing in the living room with a whiskey in hand.

"What the fuck?!"

Kate turns to her as soon as she steps into the living room.

"Are you going to let me talk?"

Kate takes a large sip of her drink.

"I told you not to fucking quit! I told you!"

"I didn't. If you calm down for a second and listen, you might get it."

"What?! What did you do then?!"

"I had a conversation with my advisor. I told her I had family things in New York that I needed to take care of. I told her that I needed to come back, that it wasn't really a choice. I'm writing now. I'm doing research. I'm working in the lab. I have a few lectures spread out, but nothing I need to be in Boston for full time. I can do the first two from here. I can take the train down for the last two whenever I need to, or I can get lab time here...somewhere. I'm keeping my apartment there until I'm done, but that will leave me here in the city at least 60-70% of the time. At least. I didn't quit school, but I'm also not quitting us. I'm here, choosing you. If you want to continue being an ass to me, fine...but I'm here. I can't prove it any more clearly than this."

"What the fuck?!"

"I'm not your parents. There is nothing more important than you."

"WHAT THE FUCK?! This is going to fuck you up!"

"It won't. You actually believe I didn't think this through? Me?" Yelena chuckles. "I'll finish and I'll do it on the same timeline. Only difference is that I'll do most of the work from another place. It's my turn to do the commute."

"What the fuck???"

"I know you know more than those three words."

"Yeah, but...what the fuck?!"

Yelena chuckles.

"I'm here." Yelena walks up to Kate, planting herself directly across from her. "I'm here, Kate. I'm picking you."

Kate moves away from Yelena and sits on the couch. She kills the drink she was holding, drops the glass on the coffee table, digs her elbows into her thighs, leans forward, and brings her open palms to rest on her forehead.

"What are you thinking?"

Kate doesn't respond. Yelena gives her a beat longer, but when Kate doesn't move, Yelena moves to where she is. She kneels in front of Kate and lifts her chin with her index finger, forcing her sad blue eyes to look at her.

"Our anniversary is in five days. I booked a cabin upstate. Away from the city, away from everyone. It's right on the edge of Mirror Lake. I'm leaving Wednesday. Our anniversary is on Friday and I have the cabin until Sunday. You can come with me, or I'm going up there and drinking the weekend away by myself, but I'm heading there anyway. I'm not going to beg you to come, but I want you to...I want you to." Kate doesn't take her eyes off Yelena but doesn't utter a word either. "I'll be at my parent's house until 9 AM on Wednesday, then I'm driving up. I'll wait for you on the driveway. If you don't show up, I'll probably have my answer." Yelena gives Kate a chance to say something, anything. She doesn't. Yelena nods. "Ten is a big number. I refuse to believe we might have fallen apart so close to it."

Yelena stands, and without much fanfare, she heads for the door and exits.

"What the fuck???"

Kate softly mumbles as soon as she hears the door click. She leans back against the couch and stares at the ceiling in silence.

---

Wednesday.

9:27 AM.

Yelena sits in Alexei's SUV in the driveway. The passenger seat is empty.

Yelena sighs, reverses, and backs out of the driveway.

She certainly got an answer and it's not the one she was expecting.

[teddy06writes]

With Ghastly Consequences

Part Two of A Dangerous Game

{I wasn��t going to do this till later but ThE IdEaS were flowing}

Requested by this anon: “I don’t mean to be a bother but if you could possible make a part 2 for the “a dangerous game” fic that you made? It was amazing!!”

and this one: “ Dude I need more poly Dream team with SBI family reader what if reader came back as a ghost but it’s like Ghostbur so she doesn’t remember everything?”

Sooo....

Dream x George x Sapnap x Reader + sleepy boys x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, mentioned character death (its you, you died in the last one)

premise: after your death, everything was hazy; this is an account of the events sparked by your ghostly return

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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

You’d drifted, for a while, in a greyish abyss for a while, knowing that there was a choice to make. 

The void, though being of course, a void of nothingness, was peaceful, and gave you time to come to terms with what had happened, and come to the solution to the question. 

And as soon as that happened-

You were gone again. 

~~

“Philza!” 

The man froze over the brewing stand, the bottles in his hands beginning to tremble, “(y/n)?” 

“Dad!” You grinned as he turned around, looking dumbfounded, “I didn’t know you were coming here- when did you get in? Oh I can’t believe you finally came!” 

“D- Do you not remember?” His voice was low, shaking almost as much as his hands. 

“Course I remember- well I remember some stuff. Like you and Tommy and Techno and Home and- and Pogtopia- and Dream and George and Ni- Sapnap- oh- wait-” your voice dropped to a whisper, “You know how they were- y’know, my partners?”

Your father nodded. 

“Don’t tell Wil,” You said quickly, “He’ll get mad.” 

He nodded blankly again, still staring at you. 

“Well what's with you? Why’re you looking at me like that?” 

“Y- It’s just- your back. I- I was devastated- more than- when WIlbur- er- when you died. But n- but your back.” There was quiet relief in his voice. 

You nodded, “Course I’m back. Like you could get rid of me that easy.” 

Phil dropped the bottles onto the crafting bench, rushing forward in an attempt to embrace you. 

You shuddered as he passed through your spectral form, sadly mumbling, “Uh, yeah. I kinda pass through things now.” 

Phil smiled sadly, “Still, your back, come on, come on, lets go find Techno, he should still be around here.” 

You nodded, following him down that ladder, “That's what I wanted to ask, where is here? Why are you out in the arctic?” 

“Oh, uh, just to get away from everything, you know who Tech hates his governments.” Phil attempted a joke. 

“Oh, yeah- I wouldn’t want to be there with Shlatt either. Strange he didn’t just go back to pogtopia though.” 

Technoblade looked up from where he was sharpening his axe, at first his face reading confused, then guilty, the carefully blank, “Things have changed (y/n). People, change.”

“Like Wil? I rember Wil being mad about something- do you think- no it wouldn’t be that, I was careful.” 

Techno winced, glancing Phil’s direction, “Uhh, we- we don’t talk to Wilbur any more. Not- not since he- er- not since you died.” 

“That man is no son of mine.” Phil spat.

You looked at him confused, “What happened? Did you get in a fight?”

“It’s- not our place to tell you.” Techno said finally. 

“hmmm, okay! So what have you guys been up too?” 

~~

You hummed a tune, drifting down the prime path, headed towards L’manburg, toward home

Phil and Techno had warned you that things had changed since your death, but that didn’t deter you from going back.

Coming over the hill, you looked over your beautiful country, the walls, which you knew were gone, seemed to be partially rebuilt, and distantly you could see Fundy over seeing construction.

At first glance everything seemed fine, but as you got closer the atmosphere seemed to change, a sort of anxiety hanging in the air over the city. 

Slowly you floated up to the platform your nephew was standing on, “Fundy! You’re rebuilding the walls!”

The fox jumped, “(y/n)?” 

“When Techno said things had changed I didn’t think he meant Shlatt was putting the walls back!” 

“(y/n)- your- your back?” 

“Course I’m back,” You chuckled, “You miss me fur ball?” 

“I- you- your back?” He repeated.

“Yeah, what’s going on round here? Why’d Shlatt have a change of heart- wait- did we win? Did I die and miss us winning? Is Wilbur putting the walls back-” 

“Wilbur isn’t here any more.” Fundy interrupted bitterly. 

Your brow furrowed, “Why is everyone mad at him?” 

“Come on, lets get you too Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo, they’ll-” He sighed motioning for Jack Manifold to take his place, “Well they should tell you at least part of it.” 

He led you down off the platform, toward the podium that still stood in the center of L’manburg, at your look of confusion explaining, “Ranboo’s a new comer. Uh- he’s- different, half enderman, we think, eye contact isn’t his thing, so be aware of that.” 

You nodded as he pushed open the door, “Hey- guy’s drop what your doing, this is important-” there was a small thud, “No not literally Ranboo- it’s a figure of speech.” 

You drifted past him into the room, smiling at the flustered looking enderboy, your brother, and his best friend, “Hello!” 

Tommy’s breath hitched, his lip beginning to tremble, “(y/n/n)?” 

“Hi Tommy! Hi Tubbo! Hi person I’m assuming is Ranboo!” 

The tall boy waved awkwardly, “Hi?” 

Fundy cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uh, I have t’get back to work. They’re- confused. I-” He gave Tubbo a ‘this is your problem now’ look before quickly turning and leaving. 

“Uhh... (y/n). You’re- back?” Tubbo laughed as if he couldn’t believe it. 

Tommy was still staring at you in shock, “(y/n)?” 

You drifted across the floor to be near him, “Tommy what’s wrong?” 

Your brother burst into angry tears, “I thought you were gone! I thought that he took you away from me! He- he fucking thought- that bitch thought he could take away my sibling! Just- just because of some- of some fucking-” He fell off into hiccups, tears still falling down his face.

“That bastard! He- he fucking killed- he- and for what? Cuase he didn’t fucking like who you were seeing?” Tommy muttered, moving back past Ranboo to sink into a chair.

“Who? Who didn’t like it?” You asked. 

Tommy let out a bitter laugh as Tubbo looked at you sadly, “It’s- nothing.”

“Hmmm, well, what’s going on here then? Did we win the war?” 

Tubbo nodded, “Wilbur- isn’t here anymore, he- he- sort of betrayed us, and we chased him out. So we’re rebuilding the walls, so he doesn’t do anything else, and me and Tommy are co presidents.” 

You nodded, but were still confused, “What did Wil do? Is it why Phil said he wasn’t his son any more?”

Ranboo gulped awkwardly, “Uh- from what- er I- uh heard, yes.” 

“hmmmm, I hope it wasn’t anything too bad.” You sighed. 

You stayed with them for another hour, talking about L’manburg, and the presidency, until Niki arrived, breathless, having heard you were back, “(y/n/)!” 

“Niki!” You looked over her, something seemed off, less bright, less Niki.

She glanced around the room, “How about we go for a walk, to catch up?” 

There was something desperate in her voice, and you weren’t stupid enough to ignore it, “Of course.” 

She gave you a strained smile, motioning to the door, “Let’s go then.” 

Soon you were out wandering through the city, many of the crowds were gone, though you could see signs of life in open windows, and small restaurants, “Niki what’s going on here? Something isn’t right.” 

“Nothing is right, not since we got rid of Wilbur.”

You looked up at the walls, now seeming to loom twice as tall as they once did, “Tommy and Tubbo- they’re anxious about something.” 

Niki nodded, “The whole country holds its breath. Tommy is angry, and Tubbo is paranoid. They think Wilbur will blow up the country, and that he’ll have help, the walls, the security checkpoints- none of this is what L’manburg was founded for.

“The people are terrified, everyone tells them something different, they’re waiting for the country to be driven into the ground.” 

You gulped (can ghosts gulp?), “Well that isn’t good. Maybe- Maybe- hmmmm, Maybe you should be in charge Niki! You- don’t tell the others- but I think you’d make a better president than any of them!” 

“If I could I would (y/n), but it’s not that simple,” She smiled sadly, looking around with a sigh, “Why don’t you go find your boyfriends? Have you gone to see them yet?” 

~~ “Georgie!” 

The King blinked, quickly pushing back the small sense of hope, he was just imagine things again, he thought to himself, he had to be. 

“George what’s wrong?” 

The voice was closer now, and it was the cold sensation at touched his shoulder that convinced him it was real enough to look, blinking in surprise again at your gray form, hovering next to his desk, “(y/n/n)! Oh my god! (y/n/n)!” 

You grinned, “George!” 

“Your back!” The goggles were quickly pushed off his face, dropped down onto the top of the desk, “Y- your really back!” 

You nodded eagerly, “I missed you! Well- I mean, it wasn’t that long that I was gone. At least I don’t think- anyway I missed you!” 

“I- (y/n) it’s- it’s been nearly a month.” 

You cocked your head, “Huh, that's weird.”

“George who are you talking...” Nick trailed off as he entered the study, “(y/n)?” 

You could see the tears in his eyes as you awkwardly waved, “Hi Nicky.” 

“Holy shit.” He muttered, “I- we thought you were gone- I mean- when- when Wilbur...” 

“When Wilbur what?” You asked with a chuckle, “Everyone keeps saying he’s done something, but no one’s told me what.” 

Both men froze, sharing a looking, “Don’t worry about it.” 

Nick quickly swiped away tears, “So your back?”

You nodded, “I’m back- hey, have you guys noticed how L’manburg’s being all weird now? Niki says Tommy and Tubbo are running the country into the ground.”

“Well- they’ve refused all foreign aid, we tried to offer them help- after the war, paying for damages and such after they sorted out there Wilbur problem,” George sighed, “And so far only Eret’s tried reaching out to talk to us, help with our Dream problem.” 

“Yeah, where is Dream? I miss him and I can’t ping him, cause ghosts don’t have com tablets.” 

“Even if yours hadn’t broken it wouldn’t help. He disappeared after Wilbur- did that thing,” Nick sounded all to broken for your liking, “He hasn’t answered any of our messages.” 

You frowned, “Well that's not like him. Maybe he just left his tablet somewhere- or maybe he just got busy doing something again, you know how he gets during manhunts.” 

“(y/n),” George tried gently, “He- smashed his com tablet, said something about going off the grid, undermining the server. He probably isn’t coming back.” 

You froze, hover in silence for a moment, “No. No that’s not true- he wouldn’t- he wouldn’t leave us! You’re lying to me! He loves us! He’d never leave! It’s not true! He wouldn’t do that! Your lying!”

Nick seemed shocked at the outburst, “(y/n)- we were just as upset but he left- gone insane-” 

“STOP LYING TO ME!” You exploded, “He wouldn’t do that! I know he wouldn’t! Your just lying!” 

They watched you sink to the floor, spectral tears flowing down your cheeks, mumbling, “You’re lying, you’ve gotta be lying, he- he wouldn’t he wouldn’t do that.” 

~~

“Wilbur!” 

Your brother flinched, he’d planned for this, he reminded himself, as soon as he heard the rumor's. 

“(y/n).” He stood up, turning to face you, ignoring how he’d begun to shake. 

He didn’t regret what he’d done. 

At least that was what he told himself. 

He knew what he had had to do, and he done it, and he had no regrets for his actions, because it was all in the plan.

“Wilbur what’re you doing outside L’manburg? I thought they said they chased you out.” 

“I missed it.” He said simply, forcing back the choked noise that had started in his throat upon seeing your grey floating form. 

“Did you miss me? George and Nick said I was gone for almost a month, that that was how long you and Dream were gone for.” 

“Don’t fucking talk about that man.” Wilbur spat. 

At your face of shock and horror at what you said Wilbur grinned, “Oh yeah, I know all about them (y/n). Them, and You, and everything before your death.” 

“Why do you hate them so much?! Can’t you see that they make me happy?! What did they ever do to you?!” 

“THEY TOOK AWAY MY SIBLING! MADE YOU TURN AGAINST ME! AGAINST L’MANBURG!” Wilbur yelled. 

Tears started to slip from your eyes again, “Wil, I never turned against you- your my brother, I love you. Why is it so hard for you to see I’d never turn on you? Who I love has nothing to do with it.” 

“Oh it has everything to do with it!” He laughed, finally managing to shut off the tiny part of his brain that screamed at him to stop, “You’re fucking dead because of it!” 

You blinked, “N- no! It’s not because of them! I died in the war! Dream was trying to protect me! I died so we could be free again!” 

“No (y/n)! You are so fucking stupid! Your dead because I killed you! I killed you because you were turning against me! Because it was the only way to get those fuckers to get there hands off you!” 

You let out a choked sob.

“And guess what? I don’t regret anything. I killed you so that they would suffer! Suffer from loosing you the way I had! And it worked and so none of the cost matters!” 

“No wonder everyone’s mad at you,” You sad shakily, “You’re a monster Wil.” 

“And I’m not the only one.” 

He sounded almost proud, gesturing his chin upward, at a patchwork of scaffolding as being stretched across the sky above L’manburg, distantly you could see someone in a neon green sweater running across the top. 

~~ “Dream, what are you doing?” 

The man only sighed at the serious voice, “Getting revenge. It’s what they would have wanted.” 

“Is it?” 

He finally turned away from the contraption, staring through the slits in his mask at the Spector that hovered in front of him, “So you really are back.” 

“Dream,” You could almost see the wall he had put up when you died, repeating, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to destroy L’manburg.” His voice was cold, steely, too close to that which you remembered from the day he and Tommy had their duel. 

“You think that’s going to make things right? You think that’s going to put me- my spirit to rest?” 

He faltered, “It has too. Wilbur killed you, and now he’s going to pay.” 

Slowly you moved closer to him, across the narrow walk way, “Clay why did you leave them? When did you break your com tablet? You knew they needed you.” 

“I- I had too.” The smile on his mask was all to haunting, a broken reminder of the past. 

“They needed you and you left them. You put them aside, for this? To be a villain?” 

“If I’m a villain then so be it.” 

Down below the people of L’manburg were beginning to raise alarms as you spoke, “They love you. I love you. You don’t- you don’t need to be the villain my love.” 

Slowly he reached up, slipping the mask off his face, “I know, I know but- but this is the only way.” 

Gingerly you reached out, hovering your hand right where it would rest to cup his cheek, “It isn’t the only way. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to cause this destruction.” 

“It’s the only thing I know how to do,” There was anguish seeping in to his voice, “I don’t know if I can do anything else.” 

You longed to embrace him as he fell to his knees, “You don’t have to do this Clay.”

“I don’t know how! I don’t know any other way to make Wilbur pay!” 

“Clay look at me, look at me, there is another way- you don’t have to do this, We love you- we miss you- Nick, George and Me, we can just, climb down and go and find them and then run away together, leave this all behind!” 

“Keep them safe.” He sniffed, wiping away angry tears. 

“Yeah- yeah- we can build a little cottage, and plant flowers in the window boxes- and forget all about this,” You were phasing back into the material world, nearly by Dream’s sheer willpower as he pulled you into his arms, “And we can forget all about this, but only if you don’t do this.”

“I don’t know if I can... (y/n) I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” He sobbed. 

“You are darling. You are. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this Clay, we love you.” 

He sniffed, sitting up a little, one of his arms reaching away, both of your breathing unsteady as you looked up at him, desperation in your eyes...

And then the tnt hit the ground. 

The world exploded into fire, ripping away his words: 

“I love you too.”