#as i always say im just happy most of them could keep jobs in the industries they want cuz a lot of idols are flipping burgers :

[1eos]

It’s insane how ppl were going on about the missing members but not saying a fcking thing about taeks insane work schedule he’s had. like he was happy to do the concerts but my god man how are you doing this??? especially since wss is so dance heavy. Like have you seen him in the curtain call pictures/videos of the 8th the day after the concerts he looks gone. and right, they literally updated on all their sns, what else were they to do?? send carrier pigeons out?? I miss vixx as a whole but I’m not gonna be screaming about ppl who don’t like or hate a certain member or are ot-whatever, arguing over stupid stuff on twt. like at this point and for a long while now im just interested in taek lmaoo. (but with a side jaehwan tho I’m currently in a hate love situation with him 😖anyway forget that) doesn’t mean I hate the others, doesn’t mean im gonna keep up with them either. twts arguments are ridiculous, I don’t have time for that. (although i do like to nosey in on a little drama) I have taek pictures to gather and post, and gifs to make for the ppls here lmaooooo ✨😘

no literally!!!! 😭😭😭 all the discourse from international starlights about how ~evil~ jelpi is for ~purposefully~ picking dates when hakyeon was busy but not a peep on how fucking INSANE it was to do 2 concert dates then west side story the very next day? when i realized that i was like helloooo???? leo's out of his mind who just does that??? i would need a week of rest beforehand to do all them cartwheels and pirouettes and that's not even taking singing into account. granted he looked full of energy at the concert but i did see videos from the 8th and it was like a ghost...like yeah ik your ass is tired now wtf?

anyways i get that ppl will always miss the 'golden ot6 days' and while *i'm* totally satisfied w this soloist leo era i'm not gonna beef w ppl who say theyre gonna boycott vixx until they reform under groovlin with hongbin even tho that's never gonna happen lmaoooo. i just don't get what ppl are arguing over anyways 😭😭 getting mad at each other isn't gonna change the fact that the group just is not gonna be whole all the time. i guess it was easy for me to get over bc i cared abt one member 99% of the time and i also accepted when the contracts were being renewed that things probably wouldn't be the same. like can we get the grieving period over with already and celebrate that leo's got boobs!

all this being said when i hear the girls are fighting i fucking runnnnnnn to my laptop bc i love laughing at the absurdity of it all. someone was mad at 3vixx for even agreeing to do the concert with hakyeon 😭😭😭 like whattttlkafklafkalggjkajfakjaffa? i think they were just mad that another member was CLEARLY busy but still pulled an insane stunt to make the concert

[cheonstapes]

HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.

Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following

-🐈

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (ﾟωﾟ)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.miguel o’hara x reader.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

SMUT

you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷

cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!

2k+ words

@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!

you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.

who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.

every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.

but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.

walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.

he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“

“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.

miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.

he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.

“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.

sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.

of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.

the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.

he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.

“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.

he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.

“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.

“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.

he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.

“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.

“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.

“i…i love you too, migs.”

you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.

“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.

the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.

“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”

miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-smack myass like a drum

[lxclerc]

𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 ─ 𝐦𝐯𝟏

summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo

note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.

dailyynupdates

liked by user33, user4, user16 and others

dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen

view all 104,210 comments...

user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected

user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across

user91 how do they even know each other 😭 user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people

user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?

user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore user71 max is a formula one driver user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job

user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over

user93 dare i say...they're adorable

user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come

user74 we won for real 🥹🫶

dailyynupdates

liked by user23, user31, user69 and others

dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭

view all 59,129 comments...

user93 oh my god look at them 😭

user81 they look so in love i want to cry

user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭

user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling user75 this means so much to me user65 you just made my entire week

user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken

user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me

user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀

sincerelyyn ✓

liked by conangrey, maxverstappen1, taylorswift and others

sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you

view all 402,452 comments...

yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒

sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu

taylorswift love seeing you happy ❤️

sincerelyyn ❤️❤️ user73 mother is all of us user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved

conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip 🫶

sincerelyyn die 🫶

user92 their friendship is everything to me

user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭

user43 THEYRE SO ‼️🥵🥰⚠️

user65 you're so right

user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭

user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭

maxverstappen1

liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 my american girl 🩷

view all 308,291 comments...

charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening

maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒 user91 max gagged him with that im afraid

landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭

user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets maxverstappen1 no ❤️ landonorris 😔 sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team 🤍 maxverstappen1 baby noooo sincerelyyn be nice, max landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed

user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in

user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭

sincerelyyn love youuuu

maxverstappen1 love you more

sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3

maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling) user42 they mean so very much to me 😭

danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous

maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒 user71 daniel is so us

sincerelyyn

liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others

sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❤️

view all 592,649 comments...

maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❤️

sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)

i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it 🫶

[bluegiragi]

I'm not sure how I found your account but I have loved all of your creations. They have fueled my hyper-fixation for Call of Duty.

When it comes to your Monster au, are there any characteristics from the team that you see them having that you haven't been able to draw out in a storyline?

that's such a good question omg...it'd probably be all the ways that the 141 grew up.

(warning - lots of reading under the cut)

Price is a dragon hybrid, which means that historically his kind has not had amazing relationships with humans or each other. Close-knit dragon communities are still really rare, since instinctively they're extremely territorial and require space to themselves and a way to assert their own strength and hoard. But, sort of by government mandate, dragons need to keep within designated areas in case they accidentally torch a human city y'know. So he did grow up in a colony, but all the families there tended to keep to themselves, exempting mating season and the occasional territory fight. He left to join the military when he was pretty young, all things considered, and I think he did it mainly out of boredom. They were happy to have him of course - dragons are massive powerhouses with long lifespans, and very rare in their ranks (they dislike being ordered around). Price would like to think he's destined for a quiet life, but his job really let him wreak havoc and he took pleasure in indulging that primal urge of his. He grew out of that destructive phase though - nowadays, his priorities consist of taking care of his team.

--

Soap is a werewolf, which is a monster that subscribes to the 'it-takes-a-village' kind of mentality for raising a child. The Mactavishes are an average werewolf pack, with Soap, his parents, his grandparents, and his two sisters (one older, and one younger). Wolves are social creatures, but the older generation likes to stay within their own kind, if only for safety reasons. Soap's always been a go-getter though, so joining the military for a chance to see more of the world just made sense to him. Full-blooded werewolves are pretty sought after in the ranks, but they're a relatively newblood kind of monster. Superiors will often do their best to tame wolves and bring them to heel, with differing levels of success. If you win their loyalty, they're yours for life, but do them wrong and the pack will turn on you. Because of that danger of mutiny, officials will tend to keep it to one werewolf a team, despite them being stronger together.

--

Harpies are typically solitary and aren't very present parents, since they'll raise their children until they're 16 then dump them somewhere and tell them to survive. It sounds ruthless to most, but it's just how their culture is and it's how Gaz grew up. He's a resourceful type, and joined the military as soon as he could. Harpies are actually one of the more common monsters used in the forces, since their eyesight and wings make for pretty amazing scouting forces/snipers. In saying that though, there's no automatic comradery to be found between two harpies on the same team - in fact, they'll usually be combative at worst and cold/distant at best. Historically, harpies have found pride in their own independence, so being forced to interact/work together can be seen as an insult. Gaz himself is pretty charismatic and cool-headed, but even he'd get irritated if he was forced to share space with another harpy. He was shipped around between teams a lot as a lead sniper before he got promoted and met Price.

--

Simon is a wraith, but before that he was a normal human, if a bit freakishly strong. His time in the military was an escape from his home life, and after he became a wraith, that distance between himself and the human world only grew. Not a lot is known about wraiths, because the only way you'd be able to study one is if they let you and wraiths are inherently extremely private creatures with a tendency for extreme bursts of violence. They're also almost impossible to catch/imprison, so Simon's an asset the military is determined to hold onto.

[wonwoonlight]

my way to you:

of dreams and moonlight / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // est relationship // best friends to lovers <3 // fluff // slice of life // theyre too fucking in love its sickening // wedding talks

➝ warning: curses, so much fluff it's disgusting, kissing, they love each other so much im just projecting bc i want this!!!! D:

➝ word count: 8k~

A/N: happy new year! a little something from me to any of you who might remember this couple <3 i miss them and i love them sm. tell me if you enjoy this?

my way to you masterlist

[✾✾✾]

You and Wonwoo don't want a big wedding.

Yes, you do want the extravagant, over the top wedding because you've always liked celebrations and you're not gonna miss out on the celebration between you and Wonwoo. But you don't want it to be a big one with a bazillion people you don’t even recognize: just an intimate one with your close friends and family.

Naturally, you can't always get what you want.

You also understand why both of your parents insist on having a big one. In a world where your prestige matters more than anything, a wedding between the youngest son of the Jeons and the only heir of the Yoons simply can’t be anything but more than perfect. The biggest, most perfect celebration of the century, if possible. It needs to be something that the word ‘grandeur’ can’t even comprehend because it’s out of its league.

So you settle for a middle ground.

“Okay.” You say as your mother and Mrs. Jeon brief you on the wedding concepts they have come up with. You don’t even listen to half the things they said, because you know they would do better than you anyway. They wouldn’t pick anything not to your standard, and while some details you might not agree with, you believe the whole wedding would be perfect even without your input.

“Dear…” Your mom starts, hesitates a little because she doesn’t want you to think they’re pushing you into this. “We… We would like your opinion on this, you know? You’re a planner yourself, we'd understand if you have other thoughts regarding this.”

“Mom…” You bite back a sigh, not wanting her to think you're tired of her. The relationship between you and your parents are getting better ever since, and even though it's been almost two years since that incident, all three of you are still trying.

It's a long time coming, and while the relationship is better, it's still not what you'd call harmonious nor ideal.

It's okay though. You have your faults and they have theirs. It's not going to be easy to change the dynamics of your family, but you're glad all of you have recognized that some things need to be changed and the three of you have been putting in efforts albeit the sweet time you're all taking.

Understandable. It's never easy to change a habit and the way you treat people--even your own family.

“I simply think you and auntie will do a better job than I am.” You say in what you wish to be a gentle tone. You don't want to come off like you're complaining, but you can't be faulted for not being too enthusiastic because you know from the beginning that your wedding wouldn't be your dream wedding.

It's okay, though. You're not complaining–it's just a thought you keep to your own self and you really are grateful that your mom and Mrs. Jeon seem to be very excited about the whole thing. After all, you're an only child and Mrs. Jeon doesn't have another child's wedding she's going to be a part of.

When you and Wonwoo announced that you're engaged, the two women cried so much that your father, the man who barely blinked even during a car accident he found himself in, panicked. 

It was quite funny, if you're being completely honest. But since then, you could tell that they both are more excited about the wedding ceremony than you are.

And while there's a small voice inside you that's still disappointed because you're not going to have your dream wedding, you're genuinely happy that the two women who will mostly be in charge of it are, well, very happy about it.

You can give them this.

“It's your celebration, too.” You give them a small, genuine smile. And even though they wince a bit at what you might be implying, you don't mean anything bad, so you correct yourself before they get the wrong idea. “I understand, Mom. We kind of have no choice but to make it big, and it's okay. I told you I've accepted it. We didn't tell you about our wish to make it small to guilt trip you and Auntie. It's just something me and Wonwoo have talked about but it's okay. It's really okay. Just consider it silly musings on our part?”

Your mom, ever since the whole missing accident, has gotten very soft, too.

Well, either that or you simply haven't spent enough time with her before to be aware of her emotional tendency.

“Oh my–why… why are you crying?!” You panic, looking at Mrs. Jeon who seems to know exactly why your mom is crying.

“It’s just…” She clears her throat and composes herself, softly apologizes for the sudden emotional burst. “When… did you grow this mature?”

Feeling awkward, you're not sure how to answer that. You're not the most talkative in front of your parents, and sentimental talks like this are the worst thing ever because, as much as you appreciate it, you never know how to respond to them.

Not that you ever had to until now.

She didn't become like this right after that incident, but once the wedding planning begins, you find yourself spending a lot of time with her (and Mrs. Jeon, of course, but you've always been more comfortable with her than your mom) and that's when she becomes more open with you.

“Uhh…” You turn to Mrs. Jeon in desperation, asking for her help with your eyes. She simply smiles though and mouths you not to worry.

The wedding discussion continues for a little after that, but after you convince them that you're really giving them full control and they can proceed with anything while you'll simply join the discussion from time to time and for the final decisions, they know that there's no use trying to change your mind.

At least you're not completely abandoning the discussion, simply prefer to not be included in it intensely.

You go home (read: Wonwoo's penthouse) after that, and it's thirty minutes later that Wonwoo also returns, finding you unmoving on the couch, seemingly deep in your thoughts.

“Hey, princess.” He greets you, which you return with both of your arms extending towards him. He chuckles and happily pulls you into a hug, maneuvers the both of you so you're sitting on his lap and you just melt into his chest. “Long day?”

“Met Mom and Auntie for the wedding prep discussion.”

Wonwoo actually laughs, and you pout at him and pretend to get away only for him to tighten his arms around you.

“Did they give you a hard time?”

“Just… I don't know.”

He hums as he takes in your face; you don't look like you're annoyed, just a little tired and somewhat disoriented. You're probably still deep in your head and need more time before you're able to tell him.

“I'll wash up, then dinner, and we can talk about it later?”

You look up and stare at him for a few seconds, gathering your thoughts before you nod and peck his lips.

“You know me too well.” You kiss his cheek after that. “I'll order some Thai food?”

“Anything you want, my princess.” He teases you and avoids your punch just in time because he knows you and your violence tendency when it comes to that particular pet name paired with a certain tone of his.

An hour and a dinner later, you found yourself cuddled up on Wonwoo's bed–at this point your bed because you rarely go back to your place anyway and you've basically moved in with him the moment you got together–his fingers playing with your hair as you try to look for something on YouTube as a background noise to play on his TV.

You take your time, which Wonwoo doesn't complain about. He never does. He knows you too much to complain about anything that you do at this point, not that he has much to complain about to begin with. God, he’s too whipped it doesn’t make sense. 

“I told Mom that I don't want to get too involved in the wedding prep.”

“Yeah?” He nudges you to continue, already aware of how you feel about the wedding preparation talks. “And what did she say about that?”

“She's not too happy, I reckon. But not in an angry way; I guess she and Auntie want me to be fully involved. But…”

“You're not enthusiastic because it's not gonna be your dream wedding anyway?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, in which Wonwoo can easily detect the guilt. “But Iike… I'm really grateful for them, Won. I really am. They seem happier and much more excited than I am planning the wedding, so I thought: why not just let them plan the whole thing? Plus it's not going to be easy to pretend to be invested in it all the time. I know I'm going to sound so spoiled and ungrateful but… I just want to get married to you surrounded by people who matter, you know?”

Wonwoo holds back a grin, still finding the idea of the two of you actually getting married to be surreal. He literally proposed to you again even if you've already proposed under the privacy of your hotel room because you deserve it. Obviously, you say yes. And yet, when anyone mentions your wedding and marriage, Wonwoo still can't believe it and he's very giddy inside.

“I know, love.” He caresses your hair and rests his cheek on top of your head. He presses his lip together as the gears in his mind turn, thinking if there's anything he could do to help. “You're right about them being excited, though. Dad says it's the only thing Mom talks about now.”

“Right?” Your smile is genuine, that much he can obviously tell. “That's why I thought I'd just let them do the whole thing. It's going to be their last chance to do it, anyway. After me and you, they probably won't be able to do this anymore.”

Wonwoo hums, but you're seemingly not done yet.

“Unless we divorce and you decide to remarry, I guess.”

“What the fuck?” He curses out of shock, not expecting those words to come out of you, and you laugh heartily at how scandalized he looks. “Why would you say something like that?”

You can't stop giggling, because Wonwoo rarely curses and when he does it's usually out of frustration that's been piling up. It sounds so childish to laugh over something like this, but you just can't seem to stop laughing despite the mock offense on his face.

Wonwoo pushes your cheeks together with his palms, making your lips purse like a duck, as he narrows his eyes at you.

“You do not speak like that, okay?” He reminds you seriously. “Don’t even joke about breaking up with me. You’re stuck with me, marriage or not.”

You scrunch your nose, and after struggling for a while, Wonwoo finally releases you and you grin at him as your arms wrap around his neck.

“You talk like it’s a bad thing.” You whisper shyly with a kiss to his cheek. “It would be my pleasure to be stuck with you.”

“Good.” He states shamelessly and it’s his turn to drop a kiss on top of your head. He’s getting brazen like that when it’s the two of you, which is a good thing because he’s now much more open to expressing himself instead of holding in whatever he’s feeling–good or bad.

Being with Wonwoo romantically for almost two years now, you find that there is still stuff that you don’t know about each other; that you still have a lot to learn and you’re happy to learn every single thing about him. You bicker quite often, because you’re the type to bring things to the surface as soon as possible while Wonwoo tends to bury them first and only uncover them later when it becomes a problem.

You’ve both learned how to take a middle ground for each other.

“Tell me about your dream wedding, then.” He says as you lay together, ready for bed. “I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about it after Jinyoung’s wedding.”

“You really want to listen to me talk about this?” Skepticism fills your voice and you look up only to see him shrug.

“Amuse me. I want to know what kind of wedding you actually want.”

You ponder for a bit, not actually having a detailed image of how you want it to be. During Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, you have a lot of opinions on what to do and what not to do based on his ceremony, but, funnily enough, you’ve never really thought about what your wedding would look like.

Having been the project manager for Yoon Holdings’ functions for years and now arranging Daisy Studio’s events and projects, you’re used to listening to what the other party wants and bringing them to life.

But to have what you want brought to life…?

“Do you not actually know?”

“It’s not that.” You whine and sit straight. “I just don’t know exactly the details of what I want.”

Wonwoo laughs at this, and he hugs you back into his arms before he lets you go to follow your posture. “It doesn’t have to be detailed, love. Just tell me what you have in mind right now?”

It’s then that you realize you’ve never talked about this with Wonwoo. Yes, you’ve mentioned some of your preferences during Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, but to actually talk about your dream wedding…? On top of you not having a real idea about what you want it to be, it just doesn’t occur to you to talk about it to him.

“Well, I want it to be an intimate one. Just our… main family? Maybe close cousins. And then Chaeyoung, of course. Soonyoung, obviously. Jennie will probably come, I don’t mind her being invited.”

“And that’s it?”

“Don’t tease me.” You glare at him. “I know I don’t have a lot of friends. You’re one of them.”

“Wow. Getting friendzoned, aren’t I?”

You look at him in warning once again, and he knows to drop it and he ushers you to return to his arms with a laugh. And when you settle on his shoulder, he tells you to continue which you find a hard time answering.

“I want the theme to be… celestial. I don’t know. I’ve always liked the stars and the moons, you know that, right? I definitely don’t want it to be an outdoor wedding. Hmmm…”

“Tell you what,” he cuts your musing. “Tell me everytime it comes up in your head?”

“Everytime?”

“Everytime.”

You grin at him playfully, settling inside the blanket to ready yourself for bed now that you don’t have to talk about your dream wedding anymore. You were actually excited to talk about it with Wonwoo of all people, and you were a little afraid if you don’t talk about it now, the topic wouldn’t come up again and you’d miss an opportunity to talk about it with him.

“Don’t complain once I do that everytime, mister.” You playfully wiggle your finger at him.

“I will never.” He smiles, and your heart melts once again and you didn’t even know it was still possible for you to fall for his smile when you see it everyday. “Now go to bed and have a good night, okay?”

“Alright. Night, Won.”

You dream of a wedding beneath the moonlight with no one but you and him.

[✾✾✾]

[sent a picture]

Soooo pretty right? But it- still a little outdoory for me

Won🤍: How is it not gonna be outdoor-y if it's a glass house, princess?

Shut up

You told me to tell you everytime!!!

I didnt do this so u would get smart w me😠

Won🤍: Alright, alright. Sorry.

Won🤍: So which part of it did you like?

All the flowers and the glass ceiling 🥹

Just look at them ugh

[✾✾✾]

“Hey. Sorry, I was in a meeting.” Wonwoo calls you back immediately after he got back to his office, noticing a miss call from you and a text with a single picture attached with no other message. “Anything happened?”

“Ooh, the one with SVT Inc.?” You recall him telling you last night. “How did it go?”

“It went better than I expected. I'll tell you at home. What's up?”

You hum from the other side of the call before answering. “Umm. I was trying this new fine dining with Chaeyoung and their table decorations are to die for. Like. For real.”

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smiles, already knowing where this is going. “Tell me about it.”

The both of you know Wonwoo is bad when it comes to design; that you could be explaining things in the easiest way possible for people to imagine and Wonwoo would still not get it unless you show him a picture, which you did. Still, he doesn't actually have the eyes for them and he couldn't really tell what matches with what and what do you exactly mean by “the colors seamlessly blending with each other”. 

But you like talking to Wonwoo and Wonwoo likes listening to you, so the conversation goes.

“Anyway, I just wanna say how pretty it was.” You conclude almost sheepishly. “But you told me to tell you everytime!!”

“I did.” He laughs through the phone, his posture relaxes more and more the longer he talks to you. It's almost like the tension from the day all dissipating into thin air just through your presence. “And I'm not complaining, am I?”

“Alright. See you at home?”

“See you at home.”

[✾✾✾]

“Oh my… look at that.” You sit up, a little in awe at the scene in front of you. You and Wonwoo are watching a movie together, some random movie on Netflix that you don't even remember the title of. But a wedding scene is playing out and you can't help but gasp at the beauty of it all. It's not entirely possible for an actual event to look like that, it's not practical and it's really just pretty.

Wonwoo hums and proceeds to do the same thing he always does, asks about which part you prefer from this wedding scene and listens to you talk about the technicality of it all and the details that you loved on the scene in front of you.

He never cuts you off as you talk about everything at once, and only comments once you pause or when you ask for his opinion. You don't mind this, because you know his silence doesn't mean he's not paying attention.

“Huh.” You suddenly stop mid sentence and turn to Wonwoo with furrowed brows, and he tilts his head in confusion. “What's your dream wedding?”

Wonwoo blinks, never expecting this question. He ponders for a few seconds as you wait patiently, now leaning on the sofa and never taking your eyes off him.

Your eyes are full of anticipation as he finally looks up and smiles at you, his arm moves from his lap to your shoulder and pulls you close to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“With you as the bride.”

You’ve never cried faster in your life before.

[✾✾✾]

The wedding is in three months and, decoration wise, everything is almost settled.

“What do you think about this?”

“Hmmh. I like them. But would you mind changing the shade of the tablecloths to a slightly darker one? It would fit better with the overall ambiance of the hall decorations.”

“Of course!” Your mom happily agrees, her assistant taking notes of everything next to her. Mrs. Jeon agrees too, and you think they are just content with the fact that you have an opinion you don't mind sharing. It's always like this everytime you open your mouth and ask if it's okay to change some things, they would just agree without much fight and proceed with your opinions.

You think it's probably their way of compensating, still feeling bad for not being able to give you your dream wedding even though they've toned down on the apologetic look, which you greatly appreciate. On the contrary, they look more energetic these days, which you might guess has to do with the fact that the wedding is so close by at this point.

“What are you doing after this?” You ask once the discussion ends, your mom's assistant already back to her office.

“We want to try this new tea shop in Gangnam, actually. Want to join us?” 

“Oh, the one Mrs. Song has just opened?”

“Yeah. She's been asking me to go but I didn't have the time. So I thought I'd just go with Mrs. Jeon here.”

“I see. Do you have time for dinner with me and Wonwoo after that?”

“Of course!” Your mom says a little too quickly, in which you share a look with Mrs. Jeon and laugh at her embarrassed expression. It's then that you realize you've never really invited her to meals and have only shared meals together when it's a formal occasion or when you're over at the family house.

It's sad, if you really think about it. But you've decided not to dwell on your past relationship with your parents anymore. It won't do you any good, and now that you know what to do, that's more than enough.

“Give me or Wonwoo a call when you're done?”

“Sure thing, dear. We'll see you at dinner?”

“Do invite Father & Uncle if they're available, we don't mind.”

Your mom looks like she's about to cry at this point, another thing you still have no idea how to react to. Though you awkwardly smile at Mrs. Jeon and quietly ask for help with your eyes yet again. And as always, she comes to the rescue, taking your mom by the arm and tells you goodbye before she actually cries.

It's hours later that you see her and Mrs. Jeon again in a Japanese restaurant, a craving you've been having since last week. You and Wonwoo arrive first, your mothers not long after.

“Feels like I haven't seen you in so long, son.” His mom greets him as she sits down on the seat opposite of her son. “Drop by the house soon?”

“It’s been busy, sorry. But I’ll make sure to drop by, Mom.” He nods to your mom in greeting, then asks them about what they were doing prior and if they had fun.

“Yeah, how was the tea shop?” You join in, dropping the menu on the table now that you've decided what to order.

“It was better than I expected.” Your mom starts. “You should go some time and try their scones. You like them, don't you?”

You actually do. And you think that's the first time your mom ever says something like this to you and gets it right. A lot of firsts today, but you're accepting them with open arms and refuse to think about them too much.

“I will, mom.” You smile. “Father and Mr. Jeon couldn't make it?”

Your mom nods with a sorry smile, and you shrug before you tell them not to worry about it. After you order, the wedding talk starts once again, this time about the cake and menu, as you wait for the food to come.

As usual, Wonwoo listens and doesn't talk much, because he's gotten a lot of updates from you already and has pretty much told you about his preferences if any.

“You'll both be present for the cake tasting next week, right?”

“Yes, Mom, don't worry. I'll actually be there for once.” He grins cheekily. “We actually invited you for dinner because of that: to thank you for taking care of our wedding. It must’ve taken a lot of your time and energy.”

“Yes, I’m sorry we couldn’t really participate more and if you feel like we’re making you do everything, but we’re really thankful you’re doing all of this.” You add.

“Nonsense. We’re happy to do it for you guys. Don’t be sorry, alright? We’re the ones who are sorry we couldn’t make it your dream wedding but–”

You whine, something that your mom hasn’t really seen a lot of, and she smiles to herself at that, a reminder of how you used to be as a kid and the times she missed as you grow up.

“Stop it, Mom. I told you it’s okay. I’m already beyond grateful that you’re doing all the wedding prep, asking for my dream wedding is just too much. Please, stop feeling guilty. I'm not that spoiled, I promise you.”

Knowing you’d rather change the topic, Mrs. Jeon turns to her son. “You should've stopped by every now and then, too. Why would you make your fiancée do everything?”

“She knows what I like, Mom.” He nudges you softly, to which both mom laughs. “She knows what I want for our wedding.”

With you as the bride.

The words ring once again in your head, and you bite your lip to contain the stupid smile threatening to bloom. How can he still make your heart flutter like never before after all this time? You look down to your phone to hide your smile, pretending to answer messages you don’t really care about. 

“By the way, about what you asked for yesterday…”

Wonwoo looks at both women wide-eyed and shakes his head just enough time for you not to notice.

“Huh? You asked Auntie for something?” You try to rejoin the conversation, putting your phone back into your purse. 

“Yeah. Remember that meat pie Mom used to make when we were in university? I was just craving for them.” He makes up something on the spot, which his mom nods at, adding that she's making sure if it's okay to make them next week.

“Ooooh! Yeah I remember them! Gosh, now that you say it, it's been long since we had them, huh? Why didn't you tell me you asked Auntie for some?”

“Must've passed my mind.” He smiles sheepishly, glancing at the women across him sharing a quiet laugh. Just in time, the beverage you order comes in and the topic stops there and moves to another thing.

Blissfully unaware, you miss the knowing glances shared between the three parties of the table, too busy raving on the pretty cocktails they're serving you.

[✾✾✾]

“Do you want to come to my wedding dress fitting?” You ask one night in the middle of your skin care routine, Wonwoo scrolling on his phone on his bed.

“Isn't that a thing? Not to let the groom see their bride on the wedding dress?”

A sudden silence blankets the room, and you two stare at each other like some kind of realization hits at the same time. That you’re really getting married to each other.

That you’re his bride and he’s your groom.

Wonwoo jumps in panic when he sees you tear up, but you cover your face in embarrassment and tell him to go away instead. Wonwoo laughs as he relaxes, though he engulfs you in a hug despite your whine. Your arms hug him back though, and you tighten your arms like he’d let go.

“We’re really getting married, huh?” He whispers against your head, to which you nod and sniffle at, still trying to calm yourself down. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah. We’re really getting married, aren’t we?”

“Getting cold feet?” He asks jokingly, but your answer is short and firm, making his heart beats louder than he thinks possible.

“Never.”

You stay like that for a bit, until it occurs to you that Wonwoo hasn’t replied to your question so you ask him again.

“I’ll pass.” He decides, wanting to spare himself the heart attack he would get seeing you in a wedding dress. There’s a chance he would faint anyway, but he’d rather not have several fainting episodes before the wedding. “You can send me pictures if you want? Or I don’t mind being surprised too, whatever you feel like at the time, okay?”

“Hmmmkay. I’ll see when it happens then.”

“You’re going to do a fitting for the cocktail dress too, right? Did you say Jennie helped with the designs for that?”

“Yeah. Mr. Jang and Jennie collaborated for the cocktail dress, I think they made two or three even though I told them one would be enough. But, well, I can always use the cocktail dress for other functions so it’s okay.”

“You’re most excited about this, aren’t you?”

You nod happily, finally getting out of his hold to grin at him. Your eyes are twinkling like a child in a toyshop. “You know I love my dresses. Jennie showed me some of the final sketches before, and apparently they’re almost done, just need to make sure that my size hasn’t changed. But she wouldn’t let me see the dresses because she wants me to just see it with my own eyes.”

His phone pings, which cues him to let go of you to let you finish your skin care routine then checks his notifications, pressing his lips together to hide his smile.

Park Chaeyoung : One is enough right???

Park Chaeyoung : How can I convince her though?  

Just discuss with Jennie and Mr. Jang. They probably knew which one would look best on her, too. 

Also, you’re her closest friend. You would know, I’m sure.

Park Chaeyoung : I hate you😭😭😭

Park Chaeyoung : This is too much of a responsibility!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know it’s for her, though.

Park Chaeyoung : I still hate you

Park Chaeyoung : Be thankful I know how much she loves you!!

Thanks.

By the way, the YSL bag that  you said was out of stock in every store in the country is being delivered to your place. Mr. Lee is delivering it to you himself, so let him up.

Park Chaeyoung : Perhaps I like you a little 

[✾✾✾]

Yoon Jeonghan : were all ready on my side

Joshua Hong : im abt 95% done!!! 

Joshua Hong : so all shud be ok and finish on time

Thanks guys.

You've worked hard.

Would it be okay for me to go and check a day before?

Joshua Hong : sure!!!!

Yoon Jeonghan : just say when you go

Yoon Jeonghan : ill drag her smwhere so she wont get suspicious

[✾✾✾]

Kwon Soonyoung sent a picture

Kwon Soonyoung : this ok?

Great.

Send your sister my greetings. 

[✾✾✾]

Kim Jennie : Oh. You're so going to die ;)

???????????????

[✾✾✾]

“Everyone's so busy these days…” You complain over lunch, eating take outs in Wonwoo's office after his meeting because you're craving for some katsu place nearby. “You're busy. Chaeng’s busy. Jeonghan's busy. Shua's busy. Even Soonyoung is busy. What are you all even up to?”

He tenses a little, then apologizes and says perhaps it's just that time of the year. The year is about to end, and even though it's still the middle of October, things are already picking up. Plus, with Young Master Jeon and Young Miss Yoon getting married by the end of November, Wonwoo’s company and Shua's studio are trying their best to wrap as many things as possible before you and Wonwoo leave for honeymoon.

“You know what this reminds me of?”

“What?” He indulges you.

“That time when everyone's busy and only Soonyoung was possible.” That feels like a long time ago now, something that you both can look back and laugh at even though it hurt before. “You were babysitting Jennie.”

“And you fainted because I took my eyes away from you for like three seconds.”

“Stop exaggerating.”

“And now you're all buddy buddy with her.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs and you join soon after, the rest of your meal flows in the blink of an eye. Time works in a funny way when you're with him, and you wonder if it'll change once you get officially married despite all the time you already spend with him.

“The wedding is already next month, isn't it?”

“I know, right? Felt like it was just yesterday I proposed to you.”

Wonwoo pauses, and you look at him in question as he stares at you in silence.

“Did you know I cried that night?”

“...what?”

“Yeah.” He smiles to himself, putting down his chopsticks and replays that night once again in his head. He doesn't think he'd ever forget the way you look and the way you ask him that question. He's pretty sure sometimes he still dreams of you asking that, over and over again like a broken player that he doesn't want to get fixed. “After you fell asleep. I cried for a bit in the bathroom just in case you woke up.”

It's weird what goes over you upon the confession. Wonwoo doesn't cry easily, and even though you've seen him cry three or four times before, you've never thought he'd ever cry because of you. Knowing that he has… You can't even think of teasing him for it, your heart filling with love beyond its size upon realizing someone out there really loves you to the point of crying because you ask them to spend forever with you.

“Thank you for telling me.” You say, surprising him. “You already know I cried when you proposed even though I knew it was happening.”

“I heard you cried when you're trying out your wedding dress?”

“Who betrayed me?”

Wonwoo laughs at this, but tells you he's not naming anyone and he's definitely not teasing you about it.

“I will probably be crying too when I finally see you in the wedding dress.” He says easily, making your heart skip yet another beat at how effortlessly he spews those words.

Fuck Jeon Wonwoo.

[✾✾✾]

There's a party you're attending tonight. Jennie said it's some kind of party that she's hosting to celebrate her last line of designs before her expected return to Ruby Corp.

She has told you to wear one of the cocktail dresses you tried the other day: the white one that stops right above your knees. You love every detail of it: from the subtle way silver stars and moons decorate the seam of the dress, to the lace that is just enough without making it look tacky.

It accentuates your body in all the right ways, but if you look at it long enough, it looks somewhat like a mini wedding dress, which is why you decided against wearing it to the after party because you don't want both your dresses to be white. You’re not sure if it’s really okay to wear it before your wedding considering how much it resembles one, but Chaeyoung’s insistence and Jennie’s confirmation convinces you because you actually love it the most out of the other dresses, which is why you're kind of excited when Jennie told you it’s really okay to wear that one.

She has told you to get your makeup done at the salon, too, because she's invited a lot of media and she tells you it's okay to do a more glamorous makeup than what you're used to. You still want a natural one, but Chaeyoung once again convinces you to do more and you give in because she looks way too excited for some reason.

Currently at the salon with her, you've decided to try one of the hairstyles you want for your wedding. It's something you still haven't decided, but your wedding is in two weeks, and you suppose it wouldn't hurt to try out some of the simple hairstyles you're considering.

Your hair is styled to beautiful curls, half of your hair is up in a bun that's sprinkled with star accessories, making it look like there are stars scattered on your bun. Chaeyoung takes a picture of it and shows you, to which you squeal at because it's simply too cute.

Despite how much you like how you look, you feel a little over the top. But Chaeyoung reminds you it's a fashion party so there would probably be people who dress way more excessively and you're completely fine.

“Wonwoo's not answering my texts at all. Wonder if he's okay…” you frown at your phone, your text from this morning left unread and unanswered.

Chaeyoung hums, not seemingly bothered by your concern.

“Maybe he's just busy. Your wedding is in two weeks and you're leaving for honeymoon almost immediately.  He's probably making sure he won't be bothered during then.” Her answer is a little too perfect to the point where you might consider it scripted, but you're a little too concerned about Wonwoo to think about it and you quietly agree with her despite how you feel.

“I haven't been able to reach Han and Shua either…”

“Looking for me?” A familiar voice greets you and you wave at Joshua who's already dressed for the party. “Sorry, got classes all day.”

“‘Skay. Where's Han?”

“I think he's in a meeting with your father. Something about a merger?”

“Huh…” You frown, trying to remember if there's any talk about a merger that you've heard before. But, then again, you haven't been involved in the company for about two years now, you're not always updated and it might even be about some sub company that you don't know existed. “Makes sense. Why are you here?”

“Jeonghan will be late to the party so I thought I'll drive with you.” He grins. “I don't want to arrive there alone.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Of course.” You should've known, really. Seungcheol never fails to report to Wonwoo, Jeonghan, or Shua everytime they ask your whereabouts. “Why are you dressed like that? It's a fashion party, dude.”

“Heh.” He shrugs, not minding the way you frown at his suit, definitely too formal for Jennie's party. “I got too busy and didn't have time to look for a fashionable outfit.”

“You still have time to change.” You try to convince him, not wanting him to embarrass himself there. “We'll probably be done in thirty minutes.”

It's then that Joshua takes a good look at you, looking at you from head to toe as his eyes water a little, which he blinks away quickly before you even notice.

“You're beautiful.” He says, startling you at the sudden honesty.

He's looking at you so softly that you're a little unsure how to respond to that, so you take the easy way and joke it away.

“Thanks. Wait until you see me at my wedding.”

This seems to make him smile even wider, and he carefully pats your head before telling you he'd wait around and he's too bothered to change so you don't have to worry.

Exactly thirty minutes later, you're on your way to the venue with Chaeyoung and Joshua. You're still trying to reach Wonwoo, but your call wouldn't go through and your text is still unanswered. You tried texting Chan, but he simply tells you his boss is busy and hasn't been able to check his phone, that he'll remind him to text you once he's able to.

That's enough to tame down your worry a little, and remembering you have a party to go to, you decide to let go of it and try to get in the mood. Good thing you have Chaeyoung and Joshua with you.

The three of you arrive in front of the building about forty minutes later, and you wonder why it's a little too quiet remembering how much of a fuss Jennie made it to be. But perhaps it's because you're still in the lobby; the party is on the top floor, after all.

Once you get to the very top level and you get off the elevator, it's still very much quiet, which makes you a little suspicious. But there's no reason for you to be suspicious of Jennie, so you ask instead if you're at the right place.

Just as they're about to answer, the lights go off and you jump at the pitch dark you suddenly find yourself in. You call for your companies and try to reach for them, but they're nowhere and you start to panic when something soft drapes over your eyes.

It's a blindfold, you register. A silk one by the feel of it, but that's not important because why are you blindfolded and you're trying to fight whoever's behind you.

“Trust me, okay?” Joshua’s comforting voice echoes against the empty corridor, and you relax a little as thousand different scenarios enter your mind. If there’s anyone you can trust, it’s Joshua, so when you feel his hand clasping yours and he leads you forward with Chaeyoung following close behind, you walk despite the way your heart is beating a million beats per second.

But when you hear the door open and close again, dark still engulfing you even after Joshua says you're allowed to take it off, what you find in front of your eyes once the light goes back on is beyond your imagination. 

You see Wonwoo on the other side of the aisle, presumably smiling at you even though you can't really tell due to your vision getting blurry.

You take your time to look around the room, a glass ceiling displaying the night sky with the  moon right above you, there are roughly only six tables in the beautiful room, decorated by your favorite flowers, your favorite color scheme, and every single thing you've mentioned to Wonwoo all that time. Somehow, even the stars are more visible than they have ever been.

“Princess?” You register your father's voice, his arm slightly open for you to take, and you don’t remember the last time his eyes stared at you with such gentleness. “Let's go. Wonwoo is waiting.”

You nod despite your unshed tears and your confusion, and as you walk down the short aisle and get to the end of it, you spare a few seconds to look at who's present. And upon realizing that they're all the people that are dear to you and Wonwoo, your eyes tear up once again at the realization of what's really happening.

“I told you I would do everything for you, right?” He whispers as you meet his eyes, trying his best to keep it together because, fuck, you look so beautiful it doesn't make sense. “I hope this is how you imagined your dream wedding to be.”

Before you can answer, the officiant, Yoon Jeonghan, cuts you off and proceeds to start the wedding ceremony. You can't even concentrate on anything, only focusing on Wonwoo and everything he's done for you.

Your brain is starting to put pieces together: the dress Jennie made you, the way your mothers seem less guilty, everyone being busy–how did he convince everyone to do this for you when they're all busy as hell?

Wonwoo starts his wedding vow, and you realize you'd have to do it too but you don't have anything prepared because you literally didn't know it was happening. You considered using the vow you're planning to use on your… well… wedding day, but you think that might not be fitting for this special day. 

Your day.

“First of all. Thank you to all of you here who have scammed me and betrayed me by helping Wonwoo.” You pretend to glare at them, to which they all laugh to because despite your words, you look the happiest they've ever seen you be. You’re glowing, despite the tears that are threatening to fall and the way you’re trying your best to hold back a sob. “I… I'll save the lengthy vow for the wedding in two weeks and I'll make this quick. I've gathered that a lot of you probably helped Wonwoo in this, and I want to thank you for all the time and effort you've put into this–and even somehow hiding it from me to the point where it didn't even occur to me to be suspicious of any of you. I've always wanted my wedding to be a small one shared by the people who matter, like all of you here, and to know that everyone of you are involved somehow… thanks for making anyone who might surprise me in the future fall short to this. And to Wonwoo…”

You finally look at him in the eye, both your eyes tearing up as you share a moment between you two. You try to calm yourself down, and you grip his hands harder before you sob right then and there.

“Thank you for making my dream come true. You should know that as long as it's with you, it's my dream wedding already.”

Jeonghan takes the cue to announce you as husband and wife, and as your lips meet under the night sky, you could've sworn the moon has never looked so bright before tonight.

[✾✾✾]

✾BONUS✾

“You look so beautiful, dear.” Mrs. Jeon softly dabs her eyes with tissue to stop her tears from falling down.

“Thank you so much Aun–uh…” You pause mid sentence only now realizing she's no longer just Auntie for you. “Mom…?”

She cries when you call her that, and Mr. Jeon laughs at how dramatic his wife is being, though he officially welcomes you to the family as he tries to calm her down.

“Wonwoo made you both work overtime, huh?” You joke, but your mom shakes her head and mentions they volunteered for it when he brought up the idea. Your fingers, clasped around Wonwoo's, tighten, and his thumb caresses your knuckle as if reminding you to calm down. “Thank you so… so much. Wonwoo couldn't have done it without you guys.”

“I know. My son sucks at making events.” Mrs. Jeon adds, already calmed down. “But at least he has the head to think about this.”

“Alright, Mom. Thanks for your compliment.” He rolls his eyes in a joking manner, though he drops a kiss on her cheek and sincerely thanks your mom too for making the ceremony possible. “And thank you… uhh…”

You giggle at the same predicament Wonwoo finds himself in, but surprisingly it's your father who speaks up. 

“You're our son, now. Call us Mom and Dad, Mother and Father, whichever you prefer.” He offers a small smile, which startles you because you did not expect this at all. You know he's happy you're getting married to the Jeons, but there's another kind of happiness in his eyes that you haven't seen in a really long time. “You've always taken care of our daughter, even when we're not able to. Continue to do it, alright? I'm glad she has you in her life.”

Wonwoo hides his smile and excuses the both of you to greet the other tables, and when you come to Shua, Jeonghan, Jinyoung, Jisoo, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Soonyoung's table, you finally burst into tears even though you meant to pretend to be angry at them for deceiving you.

You blink repeatedly in hope your tears would vanish behind your eyes, but it's hard to do that when it's your father saying this. It's a confession you did not expect happening, but a part of you is relieved it did, and when your father pats your cheek and tells you not to cry, you nod despite the tears pooling in your eyes.

"Yes, Father. I'm glad I have her in my life, too."

Jinyoung and Jeonghan laugh, but the rest of the table panics and even the other tables are amused at your sudden emotional episode,  nothing but adoration filling their eyes.

“How–how could you guys do this to me?!” You say between sobs, Wonwoo grinning sheepishly to anyone whose eyes he meets on apology even though he knows no one actually minds.

“How dare you guys not say a thing!”

“We made sure you look your best, though.” Chaeyoung squeaks, to which you glare at before you break away from Wonwoo and engulf her in a hug. Then Chaeyoung starts crying too, and soon so are Jennie and Jisoo, and even Lisa and a few members of the studio who you've gotten very close with start crying on their table.

“I love you so much.” She whispers as she hugs you tighter. “I'm happy you found each other even though you've known each other since forever.”

“I love you too.” You kiss her cheek, careful not to ruin her makeup and yours. “Thank you for making sure I look my best on my wedding that I wasn't aware was happening.”

You look up to the rest of the table, take turns to hug each and everyone of them because all of them are apparently in on it; Chaeyoung and Jisoo with the overall preparation, Jennie with the dress, Soonyoung with the catering, Jeonghan with the venue, and Joshua with the flowers.

“You don't deserve a hug because you didn't help but I will hug you because of Jisoo.” You narrow your eyes at Jinyoung.

“Hey! Who do you think helped your little husband here and convince him it's okay to do all this?” He teases you both and drops a quick kiss on your head.

Husband.

You look at Wonwoo, who seems to be stuck in the same word as you do. You share a look, and then smile at the same time and Wonwoo squeezes your hand until Jeonghan puts a stop to the serene moment and breaks it up.

“”Kay. That's enough. You both are too sappy. Let's move on to the first dance.” He shoos you both to the dance floor, and you laugh through your tears as Wonwoo takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor, right in the middle of the room beneath the night sky.

You look up once again, the moon exactly above you and him as you move together with the music. Your eyes are glassy the moment you find Wonwoo's which are also glassy, you don't try to hide your smile though, and you share that moment between you two, uncaring about the rest of the guests staring at you two.

Wonwoo leans down to kiss you square on the lips, and you press your lips back to his, the both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Hey, husband.” You whisper with a giggle, still shy with the title.

“Hey, wife.” He bumps his forehead into yours. “The moon is very beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

“Yeah.” You agree, your thumb caresses the apple of his cheek. “The moon is indeed very beautiful tonight."

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N: happy new year! idk if i'll be writing a lot this year but we'll see ig? i didnt think this would reach more than 5k lol. do talk to me if you enjoy this <3

[vitamin-cunt]

hiii im a new follower and can i request a dabi x fem!domme!reader

format is full fic but if you want can you also add some headcanons at the end

kinks to add

•sadisim (reader

•masochism (dabi)

•dumbification

•frotteurism (ok idk if you make your fics automatically match with your blog theme [hospital for horny mfs like me] but can you make it so that dabi is a paitient of a hospital for sub people and reader is his most favorite doctor so theres alot of intimacy)

•master and pet themes (reader makes dabi wear a collar, very very short maid dress with frilly black lingerie, cat ears and a cat tail butt plug)

and can you make it so that the reader has a genital type quirk were reader can give people the genitals of the opposite gender and do it to herself without removing their original genital (ex. reader gives dabi a vagina and clit while still having a dick)

A/N: anon I'm in love with you. I'm on one knee rn, you have no idea (Tired asf gonna go proofread this in the morning)

CW: As stated in the ask above, GN! Pronouns, cock mentioned (can be interpreted as a strap tho), Dabi has a pussy at some point (idc, idc there's the door), fingering said pussy

Making a broken man of Dabi

What the fuck was he doing here?

Like, seriously, why the fuck was he here???

It was a strange situation, really. A hospital for incredibly lewd individuals to seek treatment-

And he of all people was here?

He didn't have lewd desires, just-

Well, fuck, he couldn't have normal sex but that didn't require an intervention or whatever this was.

He ran his tongue over his teeth as he rolled over in his hospital bed. Even the uniform was weird-

He was in a maid outfit. A black, short-ass maid dress.

"Awww, look at him blush~ Let me have him, I think we're gonna like each other."

His face burned furiosuly at the memory. When he was first admitted, he'd been uncooperative with pretty much everyone. The "doctors,"(if that's what you could even call them), the nurses, even other patients, because he wasn't like them, dammit!

He wasn't some sex-obsessed lunatic that fucked any hole in sight, he just-

He liked certain things. A lot more than most people did, but that was fine. At least he thought it was fine.

He'd scared off all but one of the staff.

You.

He couldn't make you disappear and, for whatever reason, he'd come to appreciate your presence.

You treated him more human than anyone did in this God-forsaken hell-hole. You checked on him, catered to his needs, listened to his moans and groans about this place...

He swallowed down the excitement as he realized you would be coming in today.

The one thing that set you apart from the staff was that you knew what buttons to press with him.

"I think this thong will look so cute on you~"

"You did such a good job touching yourself for me!"

"Be a good boy and lift your ass up just a little higher for me."

It was like you could read his mind.

Yeah, that was Dabi's "problem." He liked being a toy.

Your toy.

He'd always known he had a thing for being treated like shit, but he tried to keep it on the down-low.

Too bad Daddy dearest found out.

A knock came at his door, and before he could even sit up, you were entering the room, an oddly wide grin on your face.

"How's my favorite patient?"

He narrows his eyes and rolls over in his bed to face you and the door. In your hands was a duffel bag of god knows what. "You're only this happy when you have shit to try on me," he says, eyeing the bag and trying to guess what was making those bulges from every angle in it.

You laugh and ignore him despite his bite of a response. "God, Dabi, what did I tell you about keeping these blinds open?" You walk over to his window blinds and sharply close them shut, leaving the room in the eerie purple glow of the lights above. "How are you going to masturbate with any privacy in this place?"

"What, you want me in the dark all the fucking time?" He hoists himself up on one elbow and follows you as you unpack your supplies. "Yeah, the one thing that gets me hard is a dank-ass hospital room."

"Mmm, just that? Not your favorite doctor?" You fake a pout, hand halfway in the duffel. "Even after I stretched that ass last night? Even after I played with those tits?"

He throws his head back, outwardly in exasperation and inwardly with a humming arousal in his chest. Even his low sigh could be confused for an excited groan.

And one wouldn't be wrong in thinking that.

"Why do you always..." he covers his hot face, trying to put into words what he wanted to say without sounding absolutely pathetic.

But, how could one get any more pathetic laying in a maid outfit in a rehabilitation hospital for the most debauched and depraved sex-addicts?

He swallowed and began again. "You're always describing my body like...like...you know I don't have those parts, right?"

After a moment of silence, he peeks between his hand to find you smiling down at the cat ears and cat butt-plug in your hands.

Your favorites.

When you look up, its with a craze in your eyes. And why should he be surprised?

Only the most depraved could work here.

"You're saying it would make more sense to use those words if you had those..."parts?" You tilt your head innocently. Well, as innocently as someone could with a bottle of lube in their hands now accompanying the lewd accessories.

"I guess," he muttered, his hand sliding down to his jaw and muffle his voice.

He was glad you couldn't see his cock twitching to life beneath his skirt. He loved that face. The look in your eyes right before you fuck him dumb.

"Can I show you a trick?" you ask, approaching his bed and laying your "materials" next to him. "You know the position, get in it, baby," you command, before he can answer your first question.

It always takes some time to follow your first order, but he always does it. Even now, with his head buried in his folded arms and his ass in the air, exposing his thong.

"Happy?" he bites, even through the muffle of his pillow.

He hears you donning your gloves and next came the sound of lube squirting from a bottle.

"We'll tell the insurance this was a prostate exam."

A cold finger pushes itself against the entrance of his hole and then inside him, sliding in easily.

He groans in arousal and discomfort. He guessed it wasn't entirely an entirely normal thing to prefer the feeling of surgical gloves to human fingers, but why give this hospital further justification to keep him here?

"Don't rock, baby, I've told you this before."

Right. He was already fucking himself back against your fingers despite only one being inside.

Your other gloved hand rubs his ass, lifting up the skirt to see the skin beneath it.

"You're still a little red from yesterday, so I'm not gonna spank you today."

He simply nods, hypnotized when you slip in a second finger. And then a third, and, fuck, even a fourth.

This couldn't even count as prepping when you were hitting his g-spot so earnestly that you had him moaning into his pillow. But he had, notably, reduced his writhing because, dammit, you made him want to be obedient.

And just like that, you'd slipped your fingers out, leaving him feeling empty.

"Fuck, if you're gonna prep, then fucking prep, don't..." he swallows as he realized he'd crossed a line.

Never back talk.

"I-I just mean...because it's like you're teasing..." he stutters out weak follow-up after weak follow-up, trying to backtrack from his outburst.

But, to his shock, you don't get angry at him. You laugh, in fact. Soon, something metal was pressing against him and after a moment, the metal plug end of the cattail slips inside him and slotted itself perfectly as he'd grown accustomed to.

Even then he arches his back and pants.

What were you playing at?

Any other day you would have punished him to senseless tears for the way he talked to you, but now?

He's pulled from his pondering when you adorn him with the cat ears.

"On your back, Kitty," you say, walking away to change your gloves. He obeys, wondering if you were going to come back with a cock ring like you'd had last night.

But, besides the fresh pair of gloves, you'd come back empty-handed.

He was really concerned now, especially as you mounted the bed with a grin that left his thighs trembling and his mind buzzing.

"Fuck's going on?" He growled, testing his luck with his mouthiness.

You don't answer, instead choosing to lean forward and press your lips to his. He'd kissed you before, but this...

Why was he suddenly hot? Like, burning, he...he hadn't activated his quirk, had he?

Suddenly, a buzzing emerged from between his legs. Then, a dampness in his thong. Finally, a sudden wave of inexplicable pleasure.

"Wh-what the fuck!? Why do I- mmmmh, it's not supposed to feel wet down there, what did you- ahhh- what did you do???"

He squirmed beneath you, the hospital bed creaking loudly as it usually did during your encounters. His face burned as a new warmth overtook his loins, one that he'd never felt before.

He rubbed his thighs together, trying to rid himself of the incessant ache, but you place your knees between them before he can really do anything.

"Why're you so freaked out?" You say above him, removing your scrub top. "It's just sex therapy!"

"Bullshit." His eyes scan your bare chest and abdomen, having seen it for the first time ever, really.

You laugh lightly through your nose. "Okay...Just sit still while your master plays with your little pussy, okay?"

"I told you, it's weird when- ah- haaah~ fuck!" His eyes went wide as your fingers slipped past his thong and inside him.

But not his ass.

All he heard was the slick squelch of your fingers penetrating him, and before he knew it, he was arched against his bed, gasping and reaching for the thin, cheap sheets above him.

He couldn't stop the moans, the uncharacteristic whines, the sounds coming from his- his-

"Your pussy's dripping for me, baby~" you laugh.

You gave him a pussy. What was worse was that you gave him a pussy and he liked it.

He could feel you scissoring in his walls, just like you did in his ass but it was different, this wasn't the same, it would never be the same-

He covered his face, you couldn't see him like this. Fine, make him wear the tail and the ears, keep him in the outfit, watch him roll his hips against your hand as you fold your fingers inside him-

But he'd be damned if he let you see the blissed tears running down his burning cheeks.

"Are you gonna cum, already?" You tease, noting his tells. His moans turning to breathless pants and a repeat of soft "uhn, uhn, uhn", his thighs trembling, his covering his face. "I didn't even get my dick inside you yet!"

You inside him? When he could feel every movement of your fingers, the aching of his- his clit-

He couldn't take it, even the idea of being filled-

"Not yet, Kitty." You removed your fingers from inside him, once again rendering him empty.

But it wasn't the same, this time, this time he felt as though he could cry. The tears fell faster now, he couldn't even hide them.

What were you doing to him?

He was crying because you wouldn't keep fingering his pussy!?

Furthermore, he was rejoicing when you'd slipped a bit of your cock inside him, his pussy clenching around nothing but air and your tip.

This is crazy, this is insane-

"Ohhh shitttt, ohhh shittt~ yes, fill me up, fill me up!"

He sounded insane-

"I know it's against protocol to directly penetrate your patients, but for you?" You whisper as you lean down and it let him get adjusted. "I couldn't let anyone else be the first person to use this pussy~"

You quickly grow impatient of letting him adjust and it shows because soon, light rocking turns to full-on thrusts in and out of him, fuck the slapping noise it made, fuck the squelching noise it made, fuck how loud he got-

Fuck, he was so loud-

He doesn't know what to do with himself but sit back and take it. Take getting pounded mercilessly like a little bitch.

"Seems like after tonight, you'll fit in with the other patients, hm?" You grab his jaw and turn his dissenting face back in your direction. "Think I trained my Kitty well, don't you?"

He could barely understand you, not with you grabbing the tops of his thighs and pulling his hips down into yours as you slam up into him.

"Tell me you deserve to be here, baby. Tell me you're just a depraved sex slut like the rest of the patients."

He wanted to reply, he really wanted to, but how could he when his tongue was sticking out of his mouth and his eyes were stuck in the back of his head?

"C'mon, baby, I know you can do it. Tell me you're no different, c'mon, let me hear it, baby."

"Haaaah, I'm n-no different! I-I'm the same! I deserve this!"

It wasn't much, but even you knew that he would cum before you could get more out of him, at least at the rate you were going. And, frankly, you didn't want to stop.

In fact, you wanted to take things a step further.

You grab his cock, the same cock that he'd barely registered still having, and began stroking.

And that was all that it took for Dabi, because seconds later he was clenching around you as tight as he could and cumming. It was almost like a double orgasm, what with his spurting white cum onto his black dress, and cumming clenched around you. White hot shocks sent his paralyzed body into brief jerking motions and the pleasure was immense beyond his understanding.

He would deal with the implications of this event when he wasn't still coming down from his high.

"Remember this the next time you complain about how I describe you, Dabi. Because you might just get what you wish for."

[straighttohellbuddy]

what you love you devour {c!Wilbur Soot}

Summary: As someone who is chronically honest and the self-appointed court jester of this world, your place in any conflict or situation had always been whichever place to be amused you the most; being on the side of the grown-ass man who put time and effort into waging war against smartass kids over discs? Of course. Immediately switching sides to join the child as he and someone you've never met before start a drug empire? Of course. Except said newcomer seems to know exactly how to keep you entertained; your place becomes by his side, and you quickly come to realise that no-one else will ever compare.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: She/They Reader. Villain!Reader. Past, toxic c!Quackity/Reader, established platonic c!Dream & Reader. Set during the DSMP timeline. 

A/N: 25,323 words. this has been about 2 years in the making, which is why i haven't tagged the few people on the taglist but anyways, i finally came back and reread what i had and was like.... this actually holds up pretty well as is. so yeah, i've added and subtracted a few things here and there in the last few hours to make it all make sense overall, but holy shit im so happy to have it out there. is it possibly the wankiest/dramatic thing ive posted in a while? yes. but its also 25k so eat up. and if you wanna talk to me about it! PLEASE DO!!

Warnings: VILLAIN!READER, discussions/implied suicidal ideation, violence & blood, implied and joked about smut, heavy psychological/emotional manipulation, romantic obsession, betrayal, murder, implied torture. it gets pretty dark at times, just take care.

Citrus Scale: 💚 LIME 💚

{ full playlist }

"You've created capitalism, good job," sarcasm dripped from your words as you leaned against the side of the Camarvan while Sapnap attempted to arrest Tommy and the most recent newcomer, a brunette with a way with words that you found yourself admiring.

"I didn't create capitalism," Wilbur automatically defends himself, turning on you like he had the words on the tip of his tongue, simply waiting for someone to bring it up. Though he was playing at being innocent, you could see he was holding back a smile.

"What do you mean?" Tommy, behind him, frowned, before spluttering, "you know what, who cares- Wilbur, buddy don't listen to her, she'll say anything to get a rise out of people," he grumbled, but you just talked over him, addressing the newcomer.

"I'm not implying that you, new boy -"

"Wilbur," he corrected you automatically.

"- you, Wilbur, were the theological creator of capitalism," you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help your own smile at the situation, "I'm saying that you're trying to have a monopoly on potions and the ability to brew them, so you can inflate the price to whatever you want with no competition that people would be able to buy from, all that artificial supply and demand bullshit."

"Don't know what you're on about," but Wilbur's back was to the others as he said it, lips twisting into a grin, "this is but a humble hotdog van."

"A humble hotdog van!" Tommy added resolutely for emphasis, which you yourself repeated, much quieter, turning the words over in your mind as you narrowed your eyes and looked over all of them, "oh get lost, go run back to Dream," Tommy huffed, before turning on Wilbur, "why are you even giving her the time of day? She's in his guard, she's probably here helping Sapnap."

And that's when your gaze finally flicked to the man himself in full diamond armour, who was glowering at you, bow half raised. He stays quiet.

"He doesn't seem too keen on her," Wilbur points out, looking over his shoulder, giving the faintest smile to the kitted-out guard.

"It could be a ruse!" Tommy insisted.

"I'm simply a court jester -" you tried, hands raised defensively, but Tommy cuts you off.

"You shot me!"

"What's a humble court jester doing at our humble hotdog van?" Wilbur asks, turning back to you. At this prompt, however, your whole face lit up and you stood up straight, frantically digging around your pockets, searching, until you offer a small stack of blaze rods, like it's an offering.

"Playing along," you tell him, eyes alight with mirth and mischief.

"Why?" But he takes the blaze rods and you give a shrug, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"It's the funniest option."

---

"It's not capitalism, it's a drug empire," Tommy grumbled under his breath the moment they bring you into the Camarvan and shut the door behind you, before he added, "and I still don't like that you're here."

"It's not my fault that the concept of a grown-ass man going to war with literal children over two discs is deeply funny," you raised your hands in mock surrender as you sat on the counter in the hotdog van.

"Then why were you on his side?" He demanded, and you schooled your grin into something seriously.

"Thomas, Thomas listen to me -"

"Do not call me Thomas," Tommy told you flatly, and for a moment you couldn't help your sharp smile.

"Listen, Tommy, my boy, I was on the side of the grown-ass man who was waging war over discs; you're a kid, dude, being on your side would make too much sense and would be far less funny."

"One, you're a terrible person," Tommy says flatly, and you can't help but laugh not exactly inclined to disagree with him, "two, I'm not your boy, and three, if it suddenly becomes fucking funny for you to turn on us, I will kill you a lot, okay?"

"Okay," you nod, conceding, and though he's still frowning at you, mistrustful, you can't help but follow it with, "but I think you underestimate how much I appreciate our new friend, whose first thought, after finding his way to us, was 'I'm going to build a drug empire and recruit Tommy-goddamn-Innit as my first ally'; very few things can top that, honestly."

Wilbur, who was kneeling by a chest a few feet away and had been quiet this whole time, snorts a laugh. Good.

"Does Dream trust you?" However, when he spoke, your bright mood evaporated. Then he stands, turns, and leans his hip against the chest he was just rifling through, cocking his head to one side as he regards you, "it's not bait, I'm not asking you if you're a double agent, I trust you -" though there was something behind his eyes that contradicted his words, "- just, does Dream trust you?"

"Dream and I have... an understanding," you said carefully, "I understand that he is incredibly powerful -" Tommy made a derisive noise in the back of his throat at that, "- and he understands that I am simply a court jester."

"I don't remember many jesters with enchanted netherite axes," Tommy mutters under his breath. For the barest moment, when he looks at you he sees you looking right back, something dangerous, something like a warning in your eyes that vanishes so fast he’s half concerned he imagined it. No-one else seemed to have seen it, judging by how Wilbur’s continuing on. You’ve already looked away.

"So he may expect you to turn on him?"

"Eventually," you agree, "but he also knows I'd turn back to his side with the right incentive," you knew no good could come of trying to hide your nature, especially since it could lead to others actively attempting to win your loyalty, which you couldn't deny was pretty nice. Tommy was actively glaring at you after this particular admission, however Wilbur hums thoughtfully, regarding you with an expression you can't quite read, one that makes you feel like he's evaluating you; you sit a little straighter.

"Would you steal his potion supplies for us if he had any?" And suddenly, Wilbur's tone was light, as if he were asking for you to run an errand rather than commit treason. While Tommy was flabbergasted at his bluntness, you nodded emphatically.

"Oh, absolutely."

----

"Could you be more subtle while robbing me?" Dream frowned the moment he saw you up to your elbows in a chest in what he considered to be his base of operations.

"Not my fault you're bad at hiding your stuff and good at finding me," you huffed in return, not even bothering to look up, even as Dream peered over your shoulder to see what he'd left behind that you were currently looting. Tortoise shells and empty bottles, not much, but it's something.

"I don't appreciate you stealing my shit for Tommy," Dream pointed out, and you snorted a laugh, beginning to pocket your findings. He sat beside the chest, watching you, "I'm going to stop him."

"You're going to try."

"I thought you were on my side," but even as he said it, he wore a grin that was all teeth; you both knew he was joking, "you'd tell me where the discs were if you knew, wouldn't you?"

"In a heartbeat," you agree without hesitation, sitting back on your heels and finally looking at your sort-of ally, "but we both know Tommy doesn't trust me as far as he can throw me."

"He's a smart kid," Dream's smile gets tight at the edges for just a moment, and when you look to him, he’s looking back at you with a shallow gaze - you ever take something from me like that again and I’ll fucking kill you; you hear your own voice in your head, and wonder if Dream’s thinking of that same moment, of your violent, possessiveness rearing it’s head, your axe pressed to his chest in the dead of night. Back in the present, his gaze clears and he looks at the chest you’re currently elbow deep in, pointedly, "you are robbing me." The memory passes from your mind.

"You weren't here and I'm not using actual force; this is looting at best," at your indignance, he rolls his eyes, looking away, and you open the chest again, taking the remaining items, despite their meagre value. "I'm not doing this for Tommy; Wilbur's the one who suggested it."

"The new guy?"

"The new guy," you confirmed with a nod, "the first thing he does after getting here is commit crimes; I think I'm in love," you tell Dream flatly, mostly joking.

"Sounds like a man after your own heart," Dream points out, not even trying to hide the teasing edge to his words; how deeply bizarre this interaction would be if anyone else were to walk in.

With all of the chest's contents safely in your pockets and satchel, you sit back, eyes narrowing as you give Dream and his mischievous smile a look as you finally try and figure out what this whole interaction means. However the teasing does well to hide the faint notes of apprehension in his voice.

"'s the reason I sided with you in the first place;" you said slowly, "you know how chaos gets me going," your tone was flat, clearly conveying that you hadn't deciphered the nature of this interaction, but your actual words were enough to have Dream himself laughing despite this, the air clearing. "You here to stop me?"

"Does anyone else know where my base is, and are you going to steal anything else from me?"

"No and yes," you answer bluntly; if you were anyone else that answer would be two death sentences, one right after the other, "blaze rods," you quickly elaborate, wilfully digging yourself deeper as Dream opens his mouth.

"You can't have my blaze rods," he says, though he's smiling faintly at your well-worn antics.

"Agree to disagree," you stood swiftly, trying to step over his legs to get to the next chest. Dream grabs your shin with one hand, stopping you in your track as he's sighing deeply.

"Go away, Y/N," he says firmly, letting go of you to get to his feet, beginning to push you to the entrance of the bunker, even as you whined; the fact that he let you take as much as you already had was not lost on you however, and you let yourself be nudged to the door, only putting on a show of protesting.

The timer that had started ticking the moment he'd found you in his bunker had finally run out.

"Get better security," you told him, and he gave you a wide, toothy smile.

"Love you too," he responded, "and keep me updated if you ever find those discs." At that, you give him a quick salute and head back in the general direction of the Camarvan.

----

"L'Manberg?" You said, not even trying to hide your scepticism.

"L'Manberg," both Tommy and Wilbur reiterated, sounding completely sincere in their dedication to the ridiculous name.

"L'-Man-Berg?" You said, slower, squinting at them, waiting for their sincerity to crack.

"But don't worry, Tommy himself said that 'even women can work here'," Wilbur said, corners of his mouth twitching at Tommy's various irritated exclamations, "like... in the hotdog van... with us; we're not implying that women have to work to be here, this isn't- this isn't communism -"

"You've made that abundantly clear," your scepticism broke in the face of his floundering, "I remember you brought capitalism to the Greater Dream SMP, Mr Soot," you were desperately trying not to laugh, though Tommy was fairing much worse than you at that.

"I mean- I mean- I mean-" Tommy spluttered through his laughter as it died down, trying to get himself back to being something resembling serious, "you also- you can't be on Dream's side if you're with us."

"I'm not," you answer honestly and easily.

"So you're on our side?" He clarified, though you had to hum at that.

"No..." you said carefully, before finally looking him in his eyes, "I'm on my side, I just happen to like," without breaking eye contact with Tommy or your serious facade, you pointed directly at Wilbur, to his left, "him." Tommy's outrage at your answer was predictably hilarious, hence the main reason as to why you gave it, and Wilbur's delighted 'that's good enough for me' and accompanying smile was enough to solidify your loyalty with them, at least for the time being.

----

"I knew it would be you," they've taken no chances with you when they started taking people prisoner; Tommy was the first to go, and you happened to show up right as Fundy was being lead away. Wilbur and Tommy had both sent you messages, letting you know people were being arrested, and while they probably meant for you to stay away, you had other ideas.

So now, here you were, with Sapnap's crossbow bolt between your shoulder blades as you were being unceremoniously shoved to the courthouse.

"Stop talking," he muttered, poking you probably harder than necessary, but it did little to dim your smile.

"I've barely said anything," you shrugged, the nonchalant movement only serving to remind you, as if you could forget, about the weapon at your back, "but I'm flattered, really; I knew it would be you."

"Stop. Talking."

"They've got several people escorting Tommy, and even Fundy has Eret and Tubbo," you kept chattering away, despite your guard's grumbling, "but we've fought together, you know what I'm like, and so does he," you gave a faint laugh, "they knew I'd listen to you; you're the only one besides Dream himself who could get me to go peacefully."

"Why then? If you're going to keep talking, can you explain why? Why are you going peacefully, why with me? Are you actually saying you would have put up a fight if I were anyone else?"

"Would you trust anyone else to bring me to jail on their own?" You asked simply.

"I think you overestimate how challenging you are -"

"So that's a yes, you'd trust... Tubbo to lead me to the courthouse alone?" Your tone was sly and heavy with implications, "or Ponk? Or what about Eret? I don't know him but he seems nice. I'd like to get to know him, if you're saying you'd like to swap -"

"I don't trust you," he cuts you off, words forced out through gritted teeth.

"But you trust you," you hum thoughtfully, "because you know you're the only one up for it. They're sweet kids, but they're still kids, aren't they? If the right person talked for long enough they'd believe anything. This is why I knew it'd be you taking me to court; you're better than that," you're better than them hangs in the air, unspoken but still so loud, and you're glad he can't see the way you're grinning.

Then, you give a self deprecating chuckle, shrugging again.

"Honestly I'm probably giving myself too much credit here, I'm unarmed and unarmoured, you're easily overkill as my escort, but again, I'm flattered," the pressure between your shoulder blades lessens until the sharp bolt is gone, and you hear Sapnap's footsteps fall silent. Intrigued, you turn, and you see him scowling.

"Don't do that, don't be cute, don't be coy;" he frowned at you, at how your expression had been schooled into something tamer than the delight you were feeling, "you won't trick me; I remember Dream in that warroom, you remember, we were all planning and he assured us that you were your most dangerous unarmed and unarmoured -"

"I can't believe you remember that," you huff a disbelieving laugh, hoping the delight in your eyes didn't give you away.

"Yeah, well I do; don't coy, don't be shitty, okay? I was sent here for you for a reason, me, alright Y/N? I'm the one with the crossbow," already your words were working their way into his psyche, the bestowing of compliments, building him up, only to undermine it all. Whether he realised it or not, the praise you hid amongst your teasing and self-aggrandizing felt good to hear; you're just glad he believed it.

And so you walked with a crossbow bolt nestled between your shoulders, in silence for the rest of the way, being shoved into a cell beside Tommy, who'd been sitting on the bed provided, chattering away loudly to the other guards.

"What took you so long?"

----

The jacket you're given doesn't fit quite right; it's close, but maybe the arms are a little too long, and it sits strangely when you button the front with more than one button, but you wear it with pride, grip tight on the lapels as you spin on your heel, waiting for an approval from the others.

"Looks good on you," Wilbur's voice is carefully neutral, though he nods, his slight smile betraying him.

"Now will you finally admit you're on our side?" Tommy asked, brow pinched as he looked you over.

"What do you mean? She's with us, of course she is," Tubbo voices his confusion, and you finally, finally relinquish.

"Yes, Tommy, I'm fighting for L'manburg," you inclined your head towards him, smiling faintly.

"Say it, say you're on my side," Tommy demanded, "because I wanna remember this moment when you inevitably double cross us."

"Tommy," you said carefully, trying not to show how amused you actually were.

"Don't patronise me," he warned.

"Tommy," you shifted your tone to something a touch more respectful, but the boy's mouth remained set in a firm line, "I'm on your side as long as you're on Wilbur's side."

"Of course," Tubbo pipes up brightly, "we're all on the same side, for L'manburg," and he so cheerfully misses the subtle nuance in your words that it seems to convince Tommy. Wilbur's smiling to himself, genuine, whole face scrunched up and pleased.

"Seems like an overreaction," Eret, who you were yet to get a proper read on, looked over the four of you with interest; he hadn't been here long either, "they robbed Dream for us, they got arrested too -"

"Y/N is a trickster spirit at the best of times," Tommy tells him, "you can never be too careful, trust me."

"I'm just a jester," you raised your hands in a placating gesture, gaze dipping if only to hide the spark of mischief that found its way to your eye every time you found yourself underplaying your abilities.

"A revolutionary jester," Wilbur corrects, and your gaze snaps to him, your smile growing a touch wider, a shade sharper.

"A revolutionary jester," you agreed.

----

"You should have a home here," you hear Wilbur musing as he's chopping wood with a distracted energy, "do you have a home?" He quickly follows it with, and you snort loudly.

"Christ dude, of course I have a house," though you take a moment to reconsider, "well I have a bed in the savannah," you paused, "near... near Dream's Mountain." You admitted. There's a hum, and when you look to Wilbur he's regarding you curiously.

"Still?"

"Dream doesn't operate out of there anymore," you told him candidly, "but I like it; lots of sand," you added, and Wilbur actually paused.

"Can I ask you something very frank?" He asked, leaning against the handle of his axe where it was pressing into the dirt. You nodded, "what incentive would it take for you to turn on us, and on L'manburg? If Dream offered any number of weapons or diamonds or armour, would you take it?"

"I have everything I need," you told him honestly, "and I don't think Dream could offer me enough incentive to turn against L'manburg the way it stands right now," you shrugged, but he tipped his head to the side, frowning.

"So what would it take you to turn on us individually?"

Your mouth fell open, unused to being properly listened to, properly understood.

"You listen too much," you muttered, unused to being caught out in the way you would twist words. Wilbur, seemingly surprised at your reaction, grins from ear to ear.

"You know, while you were all being arrested, I heard something; I heard someone say that you're at your most dangerous when you're unarmed and unassuming, and I think I'm starting to get it-"

"If I find Tommy's discs, I have an obligation to give them to Dream," you let the words fall from your lips in an effort to derail that train of thought, gaze on your hands as you pluck blades of grass from the ground, twisting them in your fingers. Wilbur carefully lowers himself to the ground, to your level.

"From what I understand, that seems perfectly reasonable, in your mind at least," he says with a half smile, looking to you, expression somewhat unreadable, his pause harbouring something quietly hungry; "and what about me?"

Mouth opening and closing at a sudden loss for words, you find yourself unable to look him in the eyes.

"I have no pre-existing reason to turn against you," your voice is quiet, is flat, but your forgetting fingers betray how antsy this particular shred of honesty made you.

"So, Tommy's the only one you'd throw under the bus?"

"Its up to you," you shrugged, "and I'd only steal Tommy's disc and hand them over, I wouldn't hurt him."

"Are you lying?"

"I don't lie;" your tone was harsh, looking to him with a fire in your eyes, "I will not betray them, or Tommy in any other way, so long as they are all... aligning... with... you." There's no pretty way to twist your words around it, and you can't help your faint, flustered embarrasent, "my word is my bond." Then, softer, heart in your throat, "stop looking at me, Wilbur."

"That's a lot of power you've given me there," he said with a faint laugh, "so if it's no longer in my best interest to align with them-"

"It depends on if you mean that they're no longer allies, or if they're actively hostile," you point out, "because the ways in which I would betray them if they are not my allies are... varied. If they're my active enemy, then that's more of a straightforward fight, you know?"

"And if I decided it's no longer beneficial to be allies with you?"

"You'd be smart," you tell him, knee-jerk reaction, which startles a laugh from him; you give a faint, self-conscious apology, "honestly I'd respect it, it'd be an incredibly funny move after the things I've said, you know?"

"But, no, if I betrayed you, what would you do?"

"Are you planning on betraying me?"

"Not currently," he shrugged easily, and you blinked slowly at him.

"I don't know what I'd do, not yet, but I can get planning," you said with an almost teasing air, while he splutters in protest, "yeah I know you just said you weren't planning on it, but I'm pretty sure you've lied to every single question I've asked since getting here," you paused, smile growing wider, and strangely fond, "actually I think you've lied more than you've told the truth in general since you arrived."

A second passes, then another, then finally he breaks out into laughter.

"And you accuse me of listening too much!" His expression was frankly delighted.

----

You follow them into the dark, down the stairs, listening to the way they were joking about Eret managing to come up with a nuke. The night is unassuming. Spirits are high. 

But they bring you all to a small room full of  chests. Something is wrong. You stay with Eret by the door, and he's got a hand on your shoulder - you can't run. 

"The chests are empty-" you hear Wilbur's confusion, right before Tommy asks what the button in the middle of the room does, and before he can even press it, his fingertips barely contacting the wood, you step forward -

"Easy now," Eret's voice is a gentle murmur, only for you, grip tight on your pauldron. When you look at her, a moment of silence amongst the others' confusion, his expression is… unreadable. Ice cold now, there's a sword through your chest, you can feel it where you shouldn't, followed by the searing heat of blood filling your lungs and windpipe -

"Y/N?!" Wilbur's eyes land on you as Tommy presses the button, you fall to your knees, choking on a mouthful of blood, and when your gaze locks with his, the reality of the betrayal sets in. There's horror in his eyes, and you see Tommy and Tubbo turning before you're suddenly gasping awake in your bed in L'manburg, shaking, eyes wide and goosebumps rising along your skin as you hear your comrades screaming and shouting for help, horrified at Eret's betrayal, all coming in tinny through the communicator still on your hip. You don't properly know what happened after the button was pushed, and you think that was a conscious decision.

Your first life is taken quietly, not with a bang but with a whimper.

There's something inevitable about it for you, at least in your mind, but the others didn't deserve this, didn't deserve that betrayal. You can still feel the sticky heat of the blood in your lungs, your throat, ice cold sword where it had pierced through your back, slipped between your ribs, and come out the other side. 

"It was never meant to be," Eret sounds like they’re smiling as they say it, as the others are yelling, and you realise that they're probably reviving in their own homes. You want to ask, want to demand answers, but your hands shake, and when you find your voice, all that comes out is a furious growl, low and full of venomous malice the likes of which the others had never heard from you, judging by how your voice cut through the chaotic mess of shouting.

"What the fuck did you do?" 

Eret leaves the communication channel. The silence rings in your ears.

"He betrayed us," Wilbur said, tone flat, thinly veiling his own fury at the situation, "she had us killed by Dream and his men," and then, "he killed you." Like it means something, like he's worried your apathy, or even your connection to Dream, could sway you from your anger. Like he knows betrayal of your nation means little; like he knows you well. Something about this catches in your mind; you knew it was only a matter of time before you were betrayed, but the rest of them cared - Wilbur cared enough about you to know you, and Eret had him killed too. 

Your communicator vibrates for a moment, and you look down to see a message from Wilbur himself; Where are you?

Your life was of little consequence, the same could not be said for your comrades.

"They killed me," you said softly, before you swallowed hard; home. Dig the ground by the corner of the walls near the river, you send back. "You died too; you all died. Who was there?"

"Who do you think?" Tommy cut in, loud and brimming with rage.

"It was all so fast, but I saw George, and Sap, and Dream," Tubbo cut in, voice a little shaky, bring Tommy's fury down somewhat.

"Punz was there too," Wilbur said carefully, "they have our things." And you stay quiet as they rage, as you sit in your bed, unable to get up, mind moving a thousand miles a minute as you try and figure out how to process all of this, what it all means. It doesn't take too long before there's sunlight streaming into your little, cosy hovel, followed by Wilbur climbing down the ladder provided, packing dirt into the hole he'd made to keep your location secret. 

When he gets to the bottom of the ladder, he takes a deep breath - Tommy and Tubbo are chattering away, audible over both your communicators. Making eye contact, finally, he doesn't quiet seem to know what to do, or where to go. You turn off your communicator. Everything tastes like iron. You don't move. He leans against the wall by the ladder, closing his eyes tightly for few moments, and slowly sliding down, sinking to the ground. 

"Wilb- mate are you alright? Where are you?" Tommy's voice rings out from the communicator still on Wilbur's hip, and he sighs deeply.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, just need a few moments, I'll be with you soon," and he turns off the communicator before getting a response. 

Silence. Deafening silence.

"I'm sorry," your voice is a whisper, but it's clearly audible in this little room. 

"What?" Tone immediately defensive and sharp, Wilbur's eyes snap open and he looks to you with a glare.

"No, I- I've had betrayal coming for a long time, but you- you all didn't deserve that," you clarified, hand on your chest, feeling the raised, tender scar tissue where the sword had come out - it had slid through your sternum like fucking butter, it had been so cold, even as the points where it had touched your clothes caught fire, even as it melted through the metal of your armour - your hand starts to shake. Everything tastes like iron. 

"What happened?"

"What did Eret say to you?" His question surprised you, and when you look to him, his gaze is hard and cold.

"Easy now," you remember, "held me back when I went to step forwards, and ran their sword through me before the button had even properly been pressed -"

"I saw," Wilbur's voice was softer.

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you -" your lip was trembling, shake in your words as you drew your knees up to your chest. 

"You didn't know, you couldn't have-"

"I could have done more, I could have done something -" the tears start to fall.

"Dream's guard were laying in wait, and the button was their cue to ambush us," Wilbur explained carefully, "but you…" he swallowed hard, "I watched you die." He sounded furious and disgusted, looking at his own hands, twisted into claw-like shapes, ruminating on his own helplessness at the situation.

"You're the only one who noticed," you said, barely audible, "I don't think you were meant to notice."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"I wasn't meant to see what happened, and it was meant to be assumed that I died in the skirmish," you said, tone flat and bitter, before your tone grows malicious, "because Dream is a coward."

"I wasn't meant to notice?" He asks, voice weak.

"No-one was; dying in the skirmish is less targeted, but if I had glimpsed any of their team killing -" You swallowed hard, dropping your gaze, "any," you push the word to hide that it's not exactly the truth, "of you… Dream knows I am more than capable of exacting revenge." There was a dark truth to your words that Wilbur couldn’t even begin to fathom, a history he was unaware of.

"I do notice you," Wilbur says, and you're brought from your bitterness momentarily, surprised by the earnestness of his words. He stands, "and I've never heard you speak like this before." 

"There are rules," you tell him, watching him cross the room to your bed, to sit by your side, "and I don't expect the same level of honesty that I give, but I expect- I expect- I-" but you can't find the words for what you're trying to say, sitting forward scowling at your hands.

"You would have let him betray us all still if you'd know, wouldn't you? You would have even let her kill you," Wilbur's tone is alight with realisation, and your mouth drops open with surprise; yes, yes of course you would, how did he put it into words like that? He doesn't even sound particularly hurt by that realisation, more fascinated.

"I absolutely would have," you answer.

"But you had no idea," its not accusatory in the slightest, his tone matching yours, alright with bright interest, "which is why- why- why you're so- why you're reacting like this," its like he's trying to piece together how he sees you out loud, "you need to know where all the chess pieces are, what moves are being made, you're not playing as much as you are a spectator delighting in the chaos of it all, with a front row seat." But he's grinning from ear to ear. Your whole body is alight with the instinct to reach out and touch him, to prove he's real and not something you're imagining, because no one else has even cared to figure you out like this, and no one would even come close to reacting so brightly about it. 

"I'm sorry I'm like this," you say with a momentary huff of disbelieving laughter, but he reaches out and puts a hand on your knee. The contact burns. You look down at his hand like you can't quite believe it, head swimming, trying to process this all. 

"Don't be; knowledge is power and you never lie," he pointed out, "you're a good ally to have." Your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. Wilbur Soot I'd die for you; the words press against your teeth until it's almost painful, and his hand is still on your knee. You grab it - he's real, he's here, the things he's said are real too!

"I won't betray you," is what you say instead, and Wilbur's expression turns to surprise in the face of your earnestness, your seriousness. You never lie; the thing he's said is playing on both of your minds at this moment, of this you're sure.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he says very carefully.

"Then you understand the full extent of what I'm saying, don't you?" You take his hand now in a handshake, palm to palm, "Wilbur Soot, I will never betray you."

"You have never lied to me," he said, voice low and serious, demanding an answer. You meet his gaze.

"I have never lied to you," you affirm, before adding, "you know me." And you're fairly certain he doesn't quite understand the importance of that, that his understanding of you is the reason for your loyalty. "You don't have to extend the same sentiment, don't worry, like I said I don't expect the same lev of honesty -"

"I will not willingly betray you, Y/N," Wilbur says, matching your earnest seriousness, "and I will attempt to only be honest with you." 

----

“What is it about you?” There was a strange quality to Dream’s voice as he voices a question that had seemingly been weighing on him for a long while. Wilbur, where he was trying to fit all of his friends’ equipment on his person to carry back to them, snaps his attention to Dream, brow furrowed. 

"What?" 

"Loyalty is the one thing Y/N covets above all else, and yet for some reason they’ve given it freely to you -” Dream’s voice was smooth and thoughtful, like he’s not quite aware he’s speaking out loud. 

“Maybe it’s because I respect them -”

“I respected them, but still...” he trailed off; again the idea of a darker shared history between you and Dream makes itself known. Wilbur's scowl deepened, "I don’t think they genuinely respected me... or anyone, before you. They get possessive, like dangerously possessive, but you’re different." 

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know the thing they do, the way they can talk around people and topics without even lying, and make it look, you know, like it’s easy?” And the minute the words leave Dream's mouth, Wilbur's gaze drops; of course he'd noticed.

"They’ve got a way with words," Wilbur's agrees, slowly, eyes narrowed. At the defensive notes in Wilbur’s voice, the smile dropped from Dream’s face. He’s seen this loyalty before, but never before in someone you yourself were loyal to in turn. This is uncharted territory. This suddenly feels like a dangerous conversation to be having. 

“Everything they’ve done is to amuse themselves, so you make no sense to me; what about you is so compelling that they find entertainment in playing revolution?”

“Maybe,” Wilbur says, tone light but clearly well thought out, “someone who is used to listening to everyone else finds a certain novel charm in being heard.” His gaze is icy, but he’s not looking at Dream; he’s standing at the end of the room, gaze hard as he looks at the door, as if focusing intently on something in his mind as he spoke; “I think you assume everyone believes in the ideals that their side stands for, and I also think,” he narrows his eyes, still staring into space. Despite not being the target of his glare, Dream, for the first time in the conversation, feels a strangely familiar powerlessness, “that you underestimate an individual’s loyalty to another individual, rather than to a cause,” he paused, “or a nation.” 

“I’ll fight for you, of course, but I can’t kill any of those kids -” in Dream’s mind, he’s taken back to the moment he’d recruited you to his side after he’d stolen Tommy’s discs. You’re looking up at him from where you’re leaning over a grindstone, sharpening your axe. When he’d asked why, you blinked slowly at him, “I’ve barely spoken to them; I can’t discern if they deserve it.” There’s something cold in your eyes as you look at him, and he hears it clear as day without you needing to say it out loud; I don’t kill people I don’t know.

Something about Wilbur in this moment reminds Dream of you. He feels the faded scar on his collar bone ache faintly; the part of him that had wanted to somehow warn Wilbur of your true nature was quickly growing quiet in the back of his mind.

Then, Wilbur looks at his own hands for a moment, before digging through his bag, through the various belongings he was now carrying. He pulls out your axe, and looks back up at the space by the door. Then, to the button, before finally looking at Dream, your axe still in hand, but it rested by his side, nonthreatening. Dream can’t look away from the weapon.

“You were laying in wait for us in the name of your nation,” Wilbur says, tone strangely neutral; he looks back at the door; “you complain about a lack of respect but won’t warn them when they’re about to die.” This is where he’d watched you die; that, atop the various other insights Wilbur has shared here have Dream’s blood running cold. Dream wants to argue that you would have tipped them off, but his words die on his tongue; he at least knew you better than to interfere in a good plan, an entertaining plan, where you would be able to watch the effects of a major plot twist play out in real time, even if it meant you too had to be sacrified... And Wilbur knew this about you too.

“I see,” Dream muses, trying to hide how shaken he was by the moment that had just passed, “you’re starting to make more sense now.”

“And you know what,” Wilbur said, unsettling tension breaking as he grinned, “I think you’re making more sense too; Y/N’s willingness to still bring up their loyalty to you does at least.”

“Their loyalty to me?”

“They still look out for Tommy’s discs on your behalf,” he said candidly, “we all know, but they’re yet to find them so Tommy’s yet to have a proper go at them.”

“It’s always sunny in L’Manberg then,” Dream says, dryly. 

“It’s... amusing, to try and see the world the way you see it,” Wilbur’s chipper, but there’s something almost malicious in his bright tone, and Dream’s hair stands on end. His own words haunt him, your loyalty called into question; did you simply help him because you found him trivial and amusing? While it doesn’t exactly surprise him, it stings in a way he didn’t expect. Looking back at Wilbur, it’s clear that at least some of Dream’s feelings about this particular revelation showed on his face, despite his best efforts. Wilbur’s grin was cheshire-esque. Even his smugness somehow had an echo of yours. 

He leaves. Dream feels sick, alone in the final control room.

----

"Can I ask you something?" Wilbur asks tentatively, and you look away from the furnace you'd patiently been waiting to smelt your iron ore.

"Of course."

Another long pause; you approached him where he was sitting at the table, watching you with reservation. 

"What happened between you and Dream?"

Surprisingly, your expression dropped to something blank in an instant, gaze going glassy. 

“He’s my friend,” you say flatly, turning back to the furnace, but not before Wilbur caught a glimpse of your grimace.

“I think he was trying to warn me against you,” Wilbur huffs a faint laugh, but it’s more to test your reaction; when you turn back, your expression is wide and innocent, almost pleading.

“What did he say?”

“That I’m the first person you’ve shown actual respect to,” Wilbur says, tone light but words blunt; it surprises you, which he can read on your face, and you hesitate for a moment, not wanting to confirm or deny as much. His smile grows wider, grows endeared, “and he did say you tend to get possessive.” Your gentle, flustered nature turns into something colder at that, and you look to your hands.

“He says a lot of things,” you mutter, with an air of bitterness. It’s interesting interacting with you; half the time you still seem to try and put on an act around him, though the other half you seem to let yourself be as honest as you’re able, “he says a lot of things to the people I like, then they like me less.” Then, suddenly, you look to him, defiance in your eyes, “I don’t care what he said, I’m not using you, Wilb-”

“Hold on, he never said anything like that,” he holds up his hands, defensive, placating. Your eyes go wide and your mouth snaps shut; you can’t look at him, sitting down, hunching in on yourself. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, sighing deeply enough that your shoulders sag, “Dream is my friend, I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I thought... he’s taken things from me like this before, things I, well...” you can’t quite put it into words, but Wilbur sits back, watching you, when something in his mind clicks.

“Covet.” His voice was soft with understanding, gentle as he asks “who was it?”

You blink slowly; there was something visceral and feral burning through your veins. You’d spent so long intricately designing the way the world would see you, this single moment feels like you’re on the knife’s edge trying to figure out if having him understanding you is endearing and heartwarming, or cloying and dangerous. He promised he wouldn’t betray you, but he’s not as honest as you’ve trained yourself to be. 

But you promised not to betray him, and you’ve become someone defined by your word. All you can do is leave, if that’s what you want. You can’t lash out, you must let him live with the way he knows you, with no promise to keep it to himself. Self preservation is the way your fingers flex, aching for your axe.

“I’ve given you too much power over me,” you swallow hard, hands in fists. 

“You won’t hurt me, though.”

“We both know I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“And you do want to,” he says it like it’s a fact, all light and neutral. You keep your mouth shut; you can’t lie if you don’t speak, no matter how sweet you know it would taste to lie. “I have never felt fear or anger like I felt when I watched you die,” he breaks the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter through clenched teeth, staring intently at the floor.

“You’re not to blame,” he says easily, “none of us deserved that; you didn’t deserve that.” 

“You didn’t deserve to see that,” you corrected automatically. 

“I thought you wanted to hurt me.”

“Well I can’t.”

“You won’t,” he says, tone still light. You glance a look at him, only to see him resting his chin in his hand, regarding you with a gentle smile. The distinction stings in your mind, the way he clearly understands your internal conflict, it sets your teeth on edge, “you knew what you were getting into when you offered your loyalty; Dream was confused, you know, about why you’d given it so freely when you covet it -” that word again, your expression twists into something frustrated as you drop your gaze back to your hands, “- but he doesn’t really get you, does he?”

“He likes to think he’s like me,” you mutter, “but then he acts like he’s better, like he’s building a family from this war, but he’s going to be left with people filled with resentments. I was aquiring resources, but he didn’t like my methods...”

“Who?” Softer this time, Wilbur asks.

After a very, very long time, you look to him, gaze shallow.

“I thought Quackity was like you, I thought he’d understand.”

“Understand you?”

“Understand the world, the truth,” you wet your lips for a moment, “but he clung to pretty words without question; I could see he had potential, so I kept him around, and it was easy - it was so fuckin’ easy -” You recount how you’d set your sights on loud-mouthed, brash, desperate for recognition Quackity, and how you’d made him your whole world, bombing him with affection and attention, making him feel understood, like the place he belonged was by your side. Quackity had always looked for somewhere to belong, that hadn’t changed, though you muse that you may have made it harder for him to trust it when he finally found a place where he felt like he belonged. 

“Everything I fed him was a lie I’d laced with something that sounded close enough to love and sincerity that he’d believed it,” you looked down at where you were tracing shapes on the back of Wilbur’s hand as he listened intently, “I gave him nothing, but made him believe he had everything, until... until I wanted to see how far I could go. I wanted to see if he’d die for me... and he would have, until Dream decided to grow some morals.” You stood, sudden fury burning through your veins at the memory, “he had to sew the fuckin’ seeds of doubt in Q’s mind, had to pick holes in my lies -”

“You lied that much?” This seemed to genuinely shock Wilbur, and you stopped your pacing to look to him.

“It’s why I don’t lie; it’s harder to pick holes in the truth, harder to undermine me,” your lip curled, “Q lost faith in me, stopped trusting me, and there was fucking nothing I could do about it; it was my fault, honestly, so I don’t lie anymore. I’m upfront about who I am. I only keep people around if they’re useful, or they’re entertaining, because that’s the other fucking thing I learned; nothing fucking matters more than keeping me happy, because everyone gets too serious for their own good in the end. Dream was fun before he- he- he-”

“So am I useful or entertaining?” Wilbur asks, and you freeze. Then, slowly, you take a deep breath.

“It was novel to feel understood.”

“And now it’s bloody terrifying you,” he says gently, “because as much as you want to, you can’t trust anyone as much as you trust yourself.”

“I understand people, Wilbur, and no-one I’ve ever met has understood the inherent benefit to honesty the way I have.”

“But you still promised me your loyalty.” He says. You swallowed hard, nodding once. You meet his gaze, refusing to break it, refusing to back down, waiting for him to elaborate. “And I promised you mine, as best I could,” he pauses gives you an evaluative look over, “I can’t trust people, obviously, but I know I can trust you.”

“People don’t like me when they realise I can pick them apart, that I can rewire and reprogram them like I’m an engineer,” and Wilbur regards you curiously as you say this, like he’s going to try and counter it, but you square your shoulders, “even you, Wilbur; do you think, when we met, you’d still trust me if I was upfront about this?” And he closes his mouth, thoughtful, “I wanted so desperately to keep around the first person to halfway understand me, you’re impressed rather than fucking terrified like you should be. Because you know it’s true.”

“Are you trying to push me away?”

“We both know you won’t go,” you say with the faintest, self-deprecating smile, “a stalemate of respect, of our own design.” Then, your expression turned serious, “I have never felt fear or anger like I did when I realised you watched me die.”

Then, very slowly, his gaze meets yours, hard-edged and dark.

“Do you trust me as much as I trust you?” It’s a loaded question; he’s never been given any reason to doubt you, mostly thanks to your honesty and loyalty, but you’d never been afforded that same assurance. But in this instance, it didn’t matter, you knew your answer without a shred of doubt.

“Yes, absolutely.”

----

Its said a shark can smell blood in the water from a mile away, and you, you know there's a traitor living a peaceful life up in the castle. It irritates you, sets your teeth on edge; it's not that they killed you that bothers you, it's that they were careless about it, they let the one person you never wanted to hurt watch you die. The event had shaken Wilbur; the taking of your life was not the matter you cared about. 

"You okay?" Others had noticed how distracted you were; in your mind, all you could see was the shocked horror in Wilbur's eyes, and the feeling of the blade in your back. Blinking quickly, back to the present, you smiled brightly at Tubbo, or as brightly as you could manage.

"Of course." 

You watch the others sparring and training together and your hands ball into fists, as if aching for a fight. But you've got an image to keep up; you're not the brawn here, you're a jester, you're meant to keep those who you care about smiling. 

"You ever wanna hold a sword to my neck like that..." you tone is suggestive as you trail off, grinning at Wilbur, who's got his sword poised beneath a training dummy's chin, glaring at it with ferocity. The moment you call out, however, his focus break, and you see him fighting back a smile as a flush works its way up his cheeks.

"Come test your luck then," he calls back, and you blinked quickly.

"I don't want to fight you, Wilbur," you tell him, quieter, hoping it comes off as soft, as something endeared.

"You should know how to fight," he points out, lowering his sword, digging the tip into the dirt as he leans on the pommel a little.

"I know how to fight," you counter, and a long moment of silence follows as he considers that.

"How have I never seen you with a weapon then?"

"You have, you just haven’t seen me use it as a weapon." You tell him rather pointedly, voice low, and though you’re still smiling, there’s something sharp at the edge of your voice that’s unfamiliar to him. It takes him aback, and for a long moment he’s silent as he regards you with a newfound seriousness, “I’m just a jester; what’s a jester want with a sword anyways?” You half laugh, a little louder now, gaze flicking to the others milling around nearby. Nobody outwardly acknowledges you, nobody apart from Wilbur, who just frowns. His gaze is trained on a spot just past your head, where you know the hilt of your axe sits. 

You know you need to act soon, the idea of Eret living in the lap of luxury after everything that happened has your blood boiling. It's getting out of hand. It's getting distracting. 

"You're very observant," you note, tone fond as you come back to the moment. Wilbur surfaces from his memories too, his own smile turning all kinds of fond.

"Out of necessity," he points out, making his way over to you. There's something about his tone that is fond, is knowing, and it melts your heart a little, those hints of understanding that no-one else had bothered to afford you. The person who'd betrayed the only person to understand you had been crowned king; soon, your retribution would come soon. 

"What's bothering you?" Quiet enough that no-one else could hear, Wilbur reaches out, fingertips gentle on your cheek as he tips your face, has you look him in the eyes. You wonder what he sees when he looks in them, because for a brief second, for a flash, again you see the memory of silent horror as he'd watched you lose your first life. You swallow hard, and close your eyes, leaning into his touch for the briefest moment. 

"I keep thinking about what Eret did," your voice is barely more than a whisper, giving only the truth, no attempt made to obfuscate it, like you usually would. Wilbur was quiet. You didn't want to open your eyes, didn't want to witness his reaction, but he's quiet. 

You don’t tell him what you’re going to do, what you’re planning; there’s no need for him to worry unnecessarily. If you survive, you survive, and if you don’t, well you have another life to fall back on. If you wake up in bed with a new scar and one less life, that was your decision to make. No-one should worry on your behalf, but Eret needed to know that their actions would have consequences. 

So you choose a night where the moon is overshadowed by clouds, and take your axe with you. 

You’ve always been one to make an entrance, and even now you don’t disappoint, laying in wait for as long as it takes, hours spent dead silent and idle, simply waiting.

"You should be very careful if things don't go exactly to plan," finally your voice rings out through the throne room, and Eret, all dark hair and pale eyes, stops dead where they'd been passing through. Slowly, so slow its almost painful, they turn to look at you. You, draped in the throne like you own the place, axe leaning carefully against the arm of the seat. Your name escapes her mouth like a curse.

"It did go to plan," she hisses, tone guarded. 

"If it had gone to plan, I wouldn't be here," you say, shifting a little, sitting a little lower, "if your timing had been better," you paused with a shark-like smile, "I may have been the only person in L'manburg to have no issue with your betrayal," and finally you look at him, watching his face as he tries to piece together what you mean, why you're here, "on paper I admire you." You tell them callously. Their lip curls in derision.

"Dream said you'd see my side," they say carefully.

"Dream says a lot of things to a lot of people," for a moment, your expression darkens, "I'm sure he told you to kill me first."

"To avoid…" she trails off, frown deepening. Your smile returns, wide and dangerous.

"You broke something of mine, Eret," you tell him seriously, a mad glint in your eyes, "and part of your plan worked like a charm; I won't go after anyone else because I've got plausible deniability, I didn't see who killed who in that skirmish." 

"Then why the fuck are you here?"

"Because you killed me, and Wilbur watched; it's all he could do. It was a cruel thing that you did, making someone feel helpless like that."

"You're not here because I killed you?"

"Why would I be? I'm a court jester," you huffed a little laugh, smile turning cruel, "but you used me to make Wilbur sad, and someone's got to take the blame for upsetting the thing I like."

"If that's true, why spend all this time talking? Why not just kill me?"

"Because I like to make sure you get my message; Dream's heard my message, he tried to tell you," this is where you stand, finally, rising, gaze shallow, picking up your axe as you go. Slowly, you descend the steps of the throne, and Eret draws his sword. There's uncertainty in his eyes; he's close to where you want him.

"You're stalling."

"The more I talk, the more you try and remember what people have said about me, don't you? But they don't talk about how I fight, it's never been the most impressive thing about me," you give a low, guttural laugh, axe low in your tight grip, "I'm most dangerous when I'm unarmed and unarmoured, right? That's what they say, right? What do you think that means, really think about it?" 

Eret swallows hard.

"It means that you're all talk," he's trying to put up a confident front, but you watch him tighten his grip on his sword. You raise your axe.

"Not quite." 

There's nothing elegant about the way you attack, movement uncharacteristically blunt with speed that surprised the King before you. Teeth bared, you slash and duck and weave, playing dirty, tripping them up. You take hits and lash out, snarling and spitting with anger until there's no mirth, only malice, and you bring your boot down on their hand, knee pressed to their throat. There's fear behind their glasses. There's a cut above your brow, blood trickling down your face, slashes along your arms, certainly a few on your chest, but Eret's on her back on the cold floor of the throne room.

"You have no fucking idea of what I'm fully capable of," you snarl, leaning in close to their face, applying pressure until they drop their sword, hissing in pain, "this is your only warning; if you hurt- if you fucking touch my things again, I'll make it stick-" and leaning back, you use your axe to separate their head from their shoulders, taking their first life. 

And you're alone, breath coming out shakily, gasping as the adrenaline courses through you. Somewhere in the castle, Eret is waking up with your words echoing in their head. You should leave. Standing slowly, you cast a derisive look to the blood stain on the floor, the only proof of the altercation. Someone else's problem. 

You leave through the front doors, still carrying your bloodstained axe. Really, he should have better security. 

At the doors to the castle, you pause, casting a derisive look over your shoulder; this all could have been avoided. You pull out your communicator, flicking through your contacts.

[keep your things on a shorter leash] you send to Dream. He should have chosen more carefully, or been more insistent. But that was his problem; if he kept up like this, you may have to start questioning your friendship with him. 

But there's something cathartic that comes as the adrenaline is depleting. It's said that revenge doesn't provide the cathartic relief that one hopes for, but you weren't looking for revenge as much as you were looking to send a message. And you're fairly certain that message was thoroughly received. Eret had been afraid, deeply and truly afraid; you'd seen it in her eyes. It made up for the fear you had seen in Wilbur's. 

You breathe a deep sigh, letting your shoulders relax for a moment; you head home.

There's static in your ears as you travel back to L'manburg, and you don't quite register that you're back on your nation's soil until you hear shouts. Tommy, Tubbo; the children, they spot you covered in blood that's both yours and not, and they're full of concern. You smile. The wound on your head starts to ache a little, the adrenaline wearing off fully.

"Don't worry about me -" you try, unable to keep the fondness from your voice.

"Wilbur!" Tommy hollers, because he knows. Everyone knows. You've staked your claim enough that even your allies know where to turn when you're acting out of character. It has you laughing, quietly at first - Dream had tried to warn Eret, how stupid must they be to ignore that, to not follow his instructions to the letter? - but your laughter only gets louder as Tubbo takes off, also calling for Wilbur ad Tommy, genuinely concerned, asks what the fuck happened to you.

"I'm a jester," you laugh, eyes a little wild as you look to the child, "I'm just a fucking jester! A messenger! Can't kill the messenger," there's something wild, something feral about you, covered in blood with a grin that's all teeth, bloody and bruised and covering a bloodstained axe. Tommy takes a step back, wary and quiet. His eyes are wide as he looks to your axe. 

"I thought you used a bow," he says quietly. Your smile grows wider.

"I'm a bad shot with a bow," you tell him seriously. He blinks slowly, processes your words.

"You shot me," there's apprehension in his voice. He's getting it. Perhaps you should take more caution here; you don't want to break the illusion of you he sees.

"I didn't know you then," is what you say, and see the confusion and vague horror as he tries to figure out what you mean by that. But he's interrupted.

"What did you do?" Wilbur doesn't see the humour in your appearance, he seems like he's barely containing rage. When all you do is grin, giving a slight shrug, he turns to Tommy, tells him he'll take care of you, that the boy should join Tubbo. Tommy looks between the two of you; he tells Wilbur to be careful. You laugh again, bright and loud, and Tommy and Wilbur both frown at you, but at least Tommy follows Wilbur's directions.

With the kid gone, Wilbur turns on his heel, making a beeline for where he knows you've hidden your living area, and you follow him without question.

In your house, his voice turns softly malevolent;

"Who did this to you?" Oh. Your heart catches in your throat, and the surprise must read on your face; despite his furious expression he's gentle when he takes hold of your wrist, leading you to your basin.

"You don't need to worry about me," you tell him softly, though you obligingly sit on the edge of the basin. You lean your axe up behind you.

"You're covered in blood," he points out, gaze flicking for a moment to meet yours as the water runs, filling the basin up. 

"Only some of its mine," you try, endeared by the care he was showing, "I just had to deliver a message, that's all."

"You look like you had to go through hell for it," he muses.

"You don't need to worry about me, Wilbur," and you reach out to take his hand where he's dousing a washcloth in the water. He goes still. 

"What message?" He asks, finally conceding, tone finally soft. He flips your hand, carefully wiping the blood from it. 

"People need to be more careful who they use me against," you say idly, and Wilbur is quiet as he works diligently away, cleaning the blood from your hands, from your arms when you offer them. 

"I kept seeing the moment you saw me die," you tell him softly, voice barely more than a whisper as he's rinsing the blood from the cloth. He gives pause; you continue, "I expect betrayal, but I can't imagine how it must feel to have to watch that and be unable to do anything; I suppose that's why Dream told them to kill me first. If their timing wasn't perfect, I'd see one of you slaughtered - I could have seen you slaughtered," you muse, looking down at your hands, at the blood beneath your nails. Carefully, Wilbur finally lifts your chin so he can gently dab at the wound on your forehead, looking as though he was holding back a fond smile. "But I think what happened was worse; I never want to be the source of your unhappiness, on purpose or not," then finally, you look to his eyes, to how he's focusing, and your heart beats hard against your ribs, "I don't want you to worry about me." It's barely more than a whisper, far more honest than the candid way you'd said as much earlier. 

"What did you do?" It's fond now, much lighter than the situation at hand called for, and for a moment he meets your gaze, smiling ever so slightly, your face still in his hands.

His eyes are so dark, you never want him to stop looking at you like this; these feelings are already becoming dangerous, on the verge of swallowing you whole. You need him closer. It had been a blood sacrifice to atone for that look in his eyes.

You will never have the words to tell him all you’re willing to do for him. 

"The king is dead," you tell him, "long live the king." 

----

"Surprised you weren't optioned as their VP," Quackity's smile was all teeth as he slid into the booth, across from you. 

"Surprised you were," you fired back, glad for his company; the two of you don't talk like you once did, but you'd always held a fondness for him.

"POG2020 here to drown their sorrows at losing?" He asked, tone edging on something almost mean, but stopping just short.

"Those of them that can drink," you'd grinned, gaze turning to the bar where Wilbur was glaring into a half drunk pint, "he promised me a drink half an hour ago," but you're tone was fond. Quackity makes a noise of sudden understanding.

"That's why you weren't his VP," he says, sitting a little lower in his seat, expression smug, but eyes alight like a tiger with his interest piqued. You make a noise like you have no idea what he's talking about, "poor form, really, looks bad if he's sleeping with his VP."

"You dirty fuckin pervert," but your grin gets wider as your tone gets flustered, "we're not fucking!"

"But you want to," his grin gets wider, "late nights at the office, just the two of you, all alone, its stressful, it's a tough job you know-" his tone is low, teasing in a way that means you can't meet his eyes, but his tone shifts as he seems to hear what he's saying, "hey do you wanna come work with me?" It's mostly a joke, smile turning to something genuine with the way it crinkles by his eyes, and the tension from mere moments ago disappears, and you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand with a sly smile.

"Depends on the benefits," you match his earlier tone, teasing and low, and he mirrors your positioning, face now close to yours, close to the middle of the table.

"I'm sure I could talk Schlatt into something reasonable for the other benefits," he's still smiling, still mostly joking, as were you, though you couldn't deny the thought of being Quackity's assistant and part of the Jschlatt Administration was deeply amusing given your recent history.

"You really in the market for an assistant?" Your tone was brighter, far less joking, and for an instant, Quackity flushed an amusing shade of pink.

"I could be- this was meant to be a bit-" 

"You here to rub my nose in it, Quackity?" Wilbur's voice, when it joined the pair of you, was accusatory, and though you don't move from your surprisingly intimate moment, Quackity's eyes slide to the side, to watch Wilbur side effortlessly into the seat beside you. 

"Former President Soot," Quackity grinned, but instead of watching Wilbur's reaction, he looked back at you, raising a single, almost challenging eyebrow. Wilbur, at the very least, ignores the comment.

"You conspiring against me?" He asks, mostly directed at you, and while Quackity tries to snort and play it off, you can feel Wilbur's hand slide down the length of your back coming to rest at your hip, arm now around you, and you lean out of your moment with Quackity and into his touch.

Something in Quackity’s gaze turns cold, like he’s awash with memories long past, like he’s quietly mad at himself for losing himself in the moment with you, for forgetting any part of what you’d put him through. 

"Not in a technical sense, but I also hadn't agreed to anything," you tell him, finally looking at him. As you settle into the space beside him, his arm moves to wrap around your shoulders, fingers resting gently on your upper arm; it's a clearly possessive gesture. Something in your heart bursts with warmth.

Looking to him, you see he's looking back at you, expression burning, question in his eyes; was I interrupting? Your grin turns sharper. If he had been interrupting, you're more than capable of telling him to fuck off, but just having him around reminds you that this is better than any alternative. 

"Oh," Quackity's voice was alight with realisation, breaking the moment, and you turn to him as Wilbur leans into you a little more, "you would have made the worst VP," he practically crows, tone more mocking than it was light, "you wouldn't have made it a week."

"Don't be a prick," Wilbur scowled, "if they'd wanted the job they of course would have been more than welcome to it -"

"Good old fashioned nepotism," Quackity, sounding especially smug, did little to brighten Wilbur's mood, who was set to mumble something else snide before Quackity's eyes fixed on you, "wait, you didn't want to be VP? I was actually right, wasn't I? You knew exactly what would happen, yet somehow he doesn't?! Have you even seen yourselves? How does he not - Ow!" You kick him in the shins under the table. Hard. 

"What the fuck are you on about?" Wilbur asks, as Quackity brings his leg up to rub at his sore shin. He's still fucking grinning. Asshole.

"Keep your dirty little mouth closed, Q," you warned. 

"Don't worry, I know its not my dirty little mouth you're interested in- fucking ow, Y/N!"

"Good," Wilbur's voice in your ear is warm and pleased and he's leaning on you now, solid and tipsy with his forehead against the side of your head, "he's being a dick, you have terrible friends you know."

"You'd be the worst," you murmur back, voice syrupy and full of affection as Wilbur actually giggles, not even bothering to try and contradict you. Quackity, across from you and still rubbing his shins, mimes gagging. 

"Go be Vice President, Quackity," Wilbur sneers.

"Don't be a salty bitch, Mister Former President," Quackity's lip curls. 

"Kick him in the shins again, my love," the nickname alone, Wilbur in your ear, it has your heart in a vice-like grip, and Quackity must see it in your eyes how eager you are to follow through because he draws his knees up to his chest with gusto, flipping you both off. You laugh.

"Love you, Q," you tell him with sincerity, out of habit. When he tells you to shut up, there’s nothing joking in his tone in that moment, gaze avoiding yours as he’s shimmying from the booth.

"You're so generous with your words," Wilbur's voice is a gentle sigh, something wanting, something almost forlorn. For a moment your breath catches in your throat, but before you can respond, before you can even think of a response, he's already talking again, "what was he on about anyways? Talking shit about you like he has any right to, you would have made a great VP, I asked, you know I asked -" he sits up, as if worried that you think he thinks less of you, but his arm is still around you.

"Will your the only one who wanted me to be VP," which isn't a lie, but in your trademark fashion, it also wasn't the whole truth. 

"They don't trust you with a nation," he sounded so bitter, and for a moment your heart stutters in your chest. 

"They shouldn't," you tell him softly. 

"Do you like Quackity more than me?"

"I think I probably like him more than you like him, yes."

"That wasn't what I was asking and you knew that," then his voice drops, something in his eyes as serious as you've ever seen, "do you like Dream more than me?"

"Wilbur…"

"I know- I know you're close, I know, I just… I need to know, you know?"

"Will…" and as you say his name, voice a hesitant murmur, he cups your face.

"You don't have to- to be worried if you do, I just need to know, for me, it's selfish but I need to know for me; I'd understand, of course of course I'd understand, you two have history-" and his gaze is boring into you, eyes wide and dark and you can't find the words for how much you want him to hold you close, hold you tight and never let go. 

You hesitate. You drop his gaze.

"You do," he sounds heartbroken, his grip on you grows slack.

"I have never lied to you, Wilbur," your tone is nervous and hesitant, "but I'm afraid of answering, I'm afraid of what it means."

"You'd… you'd betray me for him?" Drunk and emotional, he sits back, but your hands are shaking. 

"Wilbur, I'm afraid of answering because… you're wrong. It's you. Over Big Q, over Dream, over everyone… Wilbur I-" your voice caught in your throat, words too honest by half, so you swallow them, choose safer ones, "will choose you," you let out a shaky sigh, "you have my loyalty." 

His eyes were wide as saucers, shiny and overwhelmed and emotional and then he's holding you so tight it's like a vice, face pressed into the crook of your neck.

"You've always had my vote," you tell him faintly, and he holds you tighter still. 

"You," he whispers incredulously, not even your name, just, "its you." And your mind hears them said like a mirror, like he himself can't quite believe your honestly. 

----

“They’re exiling you,” you hear Quackity before you see him; they’ve got you locked away, and probably for good reason, but also probably at his insistence.

“It’s better than the death penalty,” you say, huffing a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” his tone is gentle but reserved, and when you finally look up from your hands, elbows braced on your knees, you see him leaning on the bars of your cage. It’s too dark to read his expression, but you can tell from his voice, “just play nice with Schlatt and you can stay a citizen.”

“Play nice?” You asked with the faintest of smirks, “what does that entail exactly?”

This is where he grows quiet, crouching down and looking at the floor, mouth in a thin line.

“You’re good at playing nice, it shouldn’t be hard,” you can’t mistake the bitterness in his voice, and you give pause, “just say it was an act, your loyalty to that dictator, Wilbur.”

“Lie, so I can swap out one perceived dictator for another?” You asked softly.

“Helping run a campaign for the former president only to admit that you don’t actually give a shit, and stay loyal to the man who won by forming a coalition with the two losing parties, that sounds exactly like something you’d do,” he pointed out, and there’s something in his voice you can’t identify, something akin to faint desperation, though you can’t quite understand why. But still, something catches in your throat. 

“Isn’t it funnier to stay loyal to the former president who lost after the two losing parties formed a secret coalition? To the point of exile?”

“Can’t you just play nice? Can’t you just lie?”

“You wanna keep me around that bad?” You asked, faintly teasing edge to your words, but as soon as he stands, as soon as he speaks, you can hear him growing defensive.

“I’m the Vice President trying to offer an olive branch to a potentially skilled ally,” he sniped, “don’t get it twisted.”

“I’m not going to lie to try and play nice with the dictator who stole the nation from the person I’m loyal to,” you tell him, blunt. Quackity is quiet for a very long moment. 

“Dream ‘ll be heartbroken,” his voice is suddenly strangely rough, “someone’s knocked him out as top fuckin’ dog in your little, black heart -”

“Q,” it’s finally clicked, and you don’t know what else to say. 

----

“I want you to know what I’m capable of,” you say softly, looking up at the stars. Then, slowly, you look at Wilbur, who’s regarding you with interest, “everyone ends up afraid of me,” you tell him, “and it might be self sabotage, but I want you to fear me too. I’m not used to love, I’m not used to understanding.” 

“More honest than usual tonight,” he muses with a gentle smile.

“If I’m not feared I feel like I’m being underestimated.”

“It sounds like self sabotage.”

“I feel violent today,” then, looking up at the stars you take a deep breath, “I love you. I don’t think I’ve said that before; I love you, Wilbur.”

“You love me and you want me to fear you,” he says slowly. His gaze follows the tense set of your shoulders, “not used to loving someone?” You shake your head. 

“I want to cut off your head, just so you know I could,” you tell him, hands behind your back, gaze skyward, “I think I want to fuck you, but I’m not sure, I’m really not used to loving someone, not genuinely. I don’t think I know how to love you in a way that makes sense.” 

Finally, you turn to him, expression neutral, while inside you were alight with nerves. He’s watching you, dark eyes thoughtful. You swallow hard.

“I’m trying to push you away,” you tell him without hesitation, “because I’ve given you too much power over me, and I-” you voice catches, your façade cracking, and finally you drop your gaze, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m like this.”

Even your honesty was it’s own kind of dishonest mask, and there was nothing more fear inducing than genuinely letting it slip. Your image is a house of cards and you keep handing Wilbur fucking fans. 

“You know at some point I am just going to leave; I don’t want to, but if you keep pushing -” he pauses, as if expecting a rebuttal, but your mouth remains firmly closed, which causes him to frown, “- I’m going to end up leaving. Do you want me to go? I’m just going to ask, because you keep pushing, you keep doing this, I’d rather you were just honest with me.”

“I’m always honest with you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t want you to stay around me out of some sort of moral obligation,” you tell him.

“That’s not an answer.” 

“And I can’t answer because you can’t guarantee you won’t end up fucking fearing me like everyone else! I can’t answer because I am not going to be responsible for someone else’s feelings; if you stop caring about me I don’t want you to feel like you should still be around me, and just go on to resent me!”

Squeezing your eyes closed, face scrunched up, you force the words through your lips, “I would give you the fucking world, Wilbur, but I don’t expect- I don’t want to expect anything in return,” your jaw clenches for a moment, but you relax your face, eyes still closed, “obsession,” you sigh gently, “is safer if I am sure it is not reciprocated. Especially obsession like this...”

“Like this?”

“The things I obsess over... they’re just that; things. And I want to keep them safe, but I don’t... I don’t actually love them like I love you,” your lip curls, and you look at the ground, slowly sinking into a squat as you contemplate, “it’s fucking obscene,” you spit, as if disgusted at yourself. “Love makes me feel fucking filthy; it’s always funnier when I’m the object of desire.”

“You’re still trying to push me away!”

“And yet you’re still here, so who’s the real idiot!?” You snapped, lip curled in a sneer as you shot him a venomous look; the shock of it all was plain as day on his face, but you don’t let the faint guilt you feel show on your face as you look at your hands.

“I love you,” he says faintly, still sounding surprised, like he can’t quite realise what he’s saying, “and I’m just tired to trying to fight you on that, I don’t know how to prove that what I say to you is the truth; you don’t have a patent on honesty, and I just don’t know what to do to get you to believe me.” And then, coming back to himself, anger returning, “it’s not filthy to be in love!”

“It is when it’s obsession,” your answer comes out more like a growl.

“Y/N, my drug empire turned into a nation, I think more people should be obsessed with me,” he says with surprising levity. Something protective, something jealous flares up at that suggestion, but you keep your reaction to yourself, looking up at him as something close to hope flares bright in your chest. “You act like you’re the only one here, like you’re the only one allowed to worry about me, like you’re the only one willing to- to die. You killed the King for me, you have Dream’s respect, if I was going to be afraid of you it would have settled in by now,” then, “the only reason I haven’t killed Eret for what he did to you is because you got there first yourself. Do you believe me when I tell you that I love you?”

The question hangs in the air between you both; you think you can almost see it there, catching starlight. You look at your hands instead.

“I believe there’s something wrong with the type of people who fall in love with me,” you admit, barely louder than a whisper, “and part of me believes you’re better than that.” 

“Listen to yourself,” he gives an exasperated chuckle, “there’s something wrong with you.”

“I know that,” you say almost immediately. Silence lapses out between you, and finally Wilbur sighs, stepping in close and wrapping his arms around you.

“I think it might be why I love you.” 

There’s never been a more dangerous feeling in your chest than in this moment, in his arms. You want to tell him you’d kill for him, you’d die for him, but it’s more than that, more than you could explain or do justice with words alone, so you hug him back, and never want this moment to end.

“There’s something wrong with you, too.”

----

He is silent; cold and unmoving and your hands start to shake. 

"You did what you had to," your tone is flat, no distress, nothing, just flat. Phil is quiet. Neither of you move. You can hear your heart beat in your ears. "We should move his body."

"Yeah…" and then, softer, "actually, no, it won't be around for long… but we can set up a gravestone."

"What do you mean?"

"Bodies here don't stay, they move on-" and as Phil speaks, as you step towards the body on the ground, hand outstretched, it begins to fade to ash, to dust. Only his things were left behind. Your fingers curl into a fist and you lower your hand, "are you okay?" His voice has the barest shake, like he still can't believe what just happened.

"It was never meant to be," you tell him instead of answering truthfully, forcing yourself to smile as you finally look up to the father of your best friend, your- "are you okay, Phil? I'm sorry you had to do that, I'm sorry-"

"You're okay." He sounded deeply concerned by what he'd perceived to be your response. Looking out from the room to the crater, you see Withers flying overhead, and hear shouting and confusion.

"I should go," you say softly, "I'm the only one left who could take the fall for that," you muse, jaw tightening for a moment, though noone can see your expression. When you move past Phil, you pause, and tell him quietly, reassuringly, that he did what had to be done, and that you were sorry. 

"Was he just a means to an end for you, just another joke? You'd gotten better, you'd gotten kinder-" his voice finally betrayed his distress; his son was dead by his own hand and you'd just watched, "what happened?"

It takes you a long time to formulate your response, terrified of letting yourself be vulnerable; you'd been the villain too many times to not expect an opportunist to use your vulnerability against you. Phil may not be that opportunist, but you know better than anyone what dangers may lurk behind a kind face and sincere veneer.

"Whatever I may have felt is no longer relevant, to you, me, or anyone; he's gone, as is L'manburg."

"Did you even care about him?" Phil asks gently, "don't talk your way around me, please, Y/N." Your breath catches for a moment; he's giving you an imploring look, holding your wrist carefully; outside, someone, possibly Tommy, is hollering both yours and Wilbur's names with fury. 

"Care is a very weak word for how I may have felt," you tell him softly, holding his gaze. Your tone is flat, but you see it in his eyes when he catches your meaning, how you can't bring yourself to admit out loud that you loved Wilbur, "not that it matters now… not that anyone would believe you if you told them." You said, tone dismissive. Phil lets you go.

----

"Oh hello, Quackity!" You hear Ghostbur cheerfully greeting someone as he peers out the window, leaning far enough out on the sill, pushed up on his toes, that you're half worried he'll fall. You hear violently loud shushing outside your house and your blood runs cold. Why was he trying to sneak up on your house?

You’re intrigued by it all, and don’t try and put up a fight.

"I suppose the kangaroo court is now in session," you mused, peering up at the precarious contraption above you, "can you at least tell me why you're dropping an anvil on my head?"

"Because you're a threat to society," Quackity grumbles, though he can't bring himself to look at you.

"Because you drove my father to madness, helped him blow up half the land, then you killed him once he'd outlived his purpose," Fundy was unflinching as he levelled a glare at you.

“They didn’t kill me,” it’s Ghostbur’s voice that joins the foray, amid the shouting, while you’re hopping from one foot to the other, looking up at the anvil, the gentle reverb that accompanies his soft speech cuts through the din.

And suddenly the madness stops; all eyes on the Ghost.

“Don’t kill her over me, if that’s your reasoning;” he paused, nervous, “or just don’t kill them…” he trailed off.

“Don’t you get that they’ve already made up their mind?” Quackity’s rolling his eyes, standing by the lever that decides your fate, “if they wanted someone to release them, they could have convinced one of us by now-” and he looks to you, eyes dark and cold, and the moment you’d shared back at Wilbur’s grave surfaces in your mind ‘you’re getting better at hearing the truth’.

"Quackity-" you breathed, alight with intrigue at this development, unable to help yourself. There's an old, familiar flicker of misguided desire, for lack of a better word.

"Keep my fucking name out of your mouth," he muttered, only loud enough for you to hear, "and quit it with that tone." He can't look at you; you delicately wrap press your hands to the glass of your cage.

"Q, what tone, I don't-" but even you could hear the giddy notes that bleed through in your words.

"You're about to die; I'm about to kill you, but you're hear acting- talking like you did when you pretended to care about me-"

"I have cared about you from the moment I met you," you fired back defensively, "I have always cared about you, Quackity."

“God I really fuckin’ preferred it when you lied, then I didn’t have to try and figure out what the fuck you mean when you talk like that,” he snapped, before making his way from the podium, “I’m sick of them, someone else pull the lever.” He called out; he’s taking a stand, trying to block you out, keep your words out of his head. This was the Quackity you’d been so captivated by when you’d met him, the man who intrigued you, who you thought could challenge you, whose very nature excited you. Heart beating in your ears, you press your hands to the glass of the cage, looking out past him, to the others.

“I was not responsible for what happened to Wilbur,” you called, looking to Fundy, who you’re pleased to see looked conflicted, “what happened to L’Manberg wasn’t my fault- I fought with you. I fought with you all,” there’s the faintest notes of desperation in your voice. You had already made peace with your fate, now you were simply intrigued as to whose hands your blood would be on.

“Fine, Fundy if you’re conflicted because they didn’t kill your dad, you can stay out of it,” Quackity’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, but you can see the hard, tense line of his shoulders.

“It feels like our actual execution reasons... aren’t there anymore,” Tubbo points out, “and as a leader, I feel bad killing someone for being a nuisance, and not even a nuisance to me or anyone else.”

“This feels kinda personal,” Ranboo adds, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “which is fine, but they don’t seem like a threat to the country.”

“Did you fucking forget she became Wilbur Soot’s right hand?!” Quackity demanded from them, stepping forward again, “ she may not have been responsible for pressing the button, but she had ample opportunity to stop him; hell, she had ample opportunity to not be a dick. How can we even believe what she says?!”

“People do some fucked up things for love,” Ranboo gives a simple shrug.

“And Y/N doesn’t lie,” Tubbo pointed out, looking to you. In this moment, time freezes; his words buzz in the back of your mind as you look to Quackity, trying to decipher how he’s reacting when you can’t see his face. Because he can’t give it away, can’t bring himself to admit the power you once had over him, the sliver of power you still have, can’t make himself look weak, and it’s killing him.

They’ve only known you to be honest, and for that you’re glad... but Quackity knew you before.

Perhaps your begging, your desperation, had worked too well.

----

“You gonna give the people a show?” Your heart is beating in your throat as you find yourself waiting in your cell, hands restrained behind your back as Dream himself paces in irate silence outside your cell.

“I gave you the option to come back, to join me to not go down this road,” he’s seething, hands balling into white-knuckled fists and unballing again and again, “I don’t understand you, I don’t fucking understand you, Y/N,” and he stops, pulls off his mask to run his hand through his hair in irritation. Then he looks to you, and you’re looking back, expression thoughtful, or at least, you hopes it comes across as thoughtful, rather than betraying the way you’re heart is hammering against your ribs.

“It’s not your fault it’s more amusing to be on the side of revolution,” you told him, lips quirking into the faintest smile, “they called it L’manberg,” your smile widens, unable to help your own laugh, and his distress becomes more evident. Then, smile slowly fading, you meet Dream’s gaze, giving a slight frown.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you tell him seriously, “you could have picked anyone else to do this, you didn’t have to volunteer.”

“If I had picked anyone else,” he swallows hard, looking at the ground and taking a deep breath, “you would have talked your way out, and it would have made them look weak, but there would be a target still on your head and you’d be hunted.”

“And you?”

“You’ve never done that thing you do with me, talk circles, trying to get me on your side -”

“You’re already on my side,” you say gently, but his expression turns pained.

“They know - everyone knows I’m the only person on the side of Pogtopia you haven’t attempted to talk your way around, but I’m also the only person who could convince you to go into exile, to not fucking let yourself be killed, and have the others not hunt you furiously when they find out.”

“Dream the Great and Powerful,” you smile, tone fond and frankly adoring, he winces again.

“You’re a pain,” he mutters, mostly to himself, before he lowers himself into a squat, as if to centre himself, gaze lifting to you finally, “you can go; join Tommy in exile, you don’t have to… to… you don’t have to die, dude.”

“If I die, in their eyes I’ve atoned for my crimes,” you try to sit back, settling in a little against the wall, “you and Tommy will never see eye to eye, but like you said, that thing I do, the way I talk my way around people, that has affected more than just you,” you took a deep breath, “the only person I really respected apart from you died, Dream, the only person who truly vouched for me apart from you is dead, Dream.” Your smile grows tight, and suddenly you can’t look him in the eyes; respect, it was so much more than that. Your heart grows warm at his memory, the mere thought of his smile, before growing cold and sad as he demanded that Phil kill him. It must show on your face.

“Wilbur protected you,” Dream said, tone knowing, but you couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that.

“Wilbur was my limiter,” you corrected, and Dream’s eyebrows rose, momentarily broken from his distress, “I respected him, I… anyways, so if he asked me not to fuck with one of our allies, I wouldn’t - except to give you Tommy’s discs,” you clarified, and for the barest moment, Dream’s lips twitched into something almost resembling a smile.

“You’re kind of awful,” he says gently, “you’d fuck with your allies? Just change sides, don’t mess with the people who trust you and expect them to keep trusting you as such.”

“My ally was Wilbur, the rest of them were on his side,” you explained, “I’m on my own side before anyone else's,” you reminded, and he nodded seriously, looking to the floor, bouncing on his toes.

----

"I- I mean I'm not sorry," Quackity muses. You don't look up, but you hear him sit on the other side of Wilbur's Tombstone. 

"I don't know why you would be; you're not responsible for what happened to me."

“Oh,” Quackity frowns, giving pause, “no, I meant about him,” and he slaps the side of the tombstone with one hand.

“Not your fault either,” you shrugged.

"He did it to himself," which is right, but not in the way Quackity means it. He thinks Wilbur blew up. He doesn't know what was asked of Phil. You're quiet, and finally Quackity speaks; "did you actually love him or was it another one of your stunts?"

"Love is a strong word," you respond, tone devoid of inflection. He can't hear how badly you want to confirm, you want to holler how fucking wide the sky has gotten in Wilbur's absence. 

"Can you just teach me how to not fucking care? Because how is it so easy for you? How do you wake up and decide you're going to ruin lives and stand by while the world goes up in flames?" 

“I don’t do it on purpose.”

“It’s just a side effect of who you are as a person,” he says derisively. 

"You find what you love and let it kill you," you tell him, voice quiet. 

"You find who you love and let them kill you," he says, knowingly, "you followed Eret into the control room because of Wilbur," he said knowingly, "and we all saw who gave you that mark on your neck," he laughs humourlessly. "But you can't even entertain the idea that I could hurt you, can you?" He asks.

"Find who you love and let them kill you."

"What then?" 

"Hope your love for them dies too; severing attachments takes great personal sacrifice." 

"You sound like Dream."

"I've known him the longest, you know?"

"He's your best friend, I remember," he tells you derisively, "so did your love die?"

"My attachment to him is situational at best." 

“But does it die?” He asked quietly, “you severed the attachment, but does the love die?” His tone is hollow, and you swallowed hard. 

“You’re getting better at hearing the truth.” You give a humourless laugh, and he responds with a non-committal hum

“I liked you better when you lied," he says quietly.

"I almost got you killed," you tell him flatly, and he huffs a faint laugh.

"Correction, I almost died for you."

"What's the difference?"

"Intention," you can hear his faint smile, "find what you love and let it kill you, after all." Then, quieter, "you should finish the job."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Give me that kind of power over you," you tell him flatly. 

"You should finish what you started," he scoffs, the mood shifting more and more with each word, "you're the one who wanted me to die for you; if you're learning to be all honourable and noble and shit, you should learn to take accountability -" he huffed in frustration, "can I be perfectly fucking honest with you for a moment?"

"I'd appreciate it," you tell him. There's a few moments of silence that follow, and finally you shift, peering at him over your shoulder to where he's leaning against the headstone, legs kicked out in front of him. He looks at you, eyes dark and tired.

"I'm so tired of giving a shit about you."

You know there's something selfish in how you miss seeing his smile in this moment. But then again, did you miss his smile, or did you miss what it represented; his love and loyalty. 

----

"You're getting rained on," Ghostbur said quietly, looking at you with his wide, cloudy eyes as you held an umbrella open and aloft above him.

"I'll live," you said pointedly, and at Ghostbur's smile became faintly strained, but he accept the umbrella. You, however, didn't move, sitting beside him on the log that you'd found him on.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, shuffling a little closer, if only to try and shield you too with the little umbrella. Instead of looking to him, you look at the grey, drizzling clouds looming overhead.

"I saw it was clouding over," you told him, "and no-one I spoke to had seen you for a while..." you trailed off, shrugging, as if that was enough.

"You've always been a lovely friend, I remember that, I remember..." but his own voice trails off, dies in his throat; you look at him with interest, and after a beat he looks back at you, "I remember the good times, the happy times, and you, in the beginning you were a wonderful friend, but I don't... they say I blew up a nation, you know, and I don't remember that, but I don't remember a lot leading up to that either. It -" he hesitates before backtracking, choosing his words carefully, "did something bad happen between us?"

Your understanding of the word, of the time you spent with Wilbur, it was all shattering in your mind at once. His eyes were wide and full of concern when you look back at him, and he reaches out gently, wiping away a tear you hadn't realised had fallen; you hear the hiss of the water against his thumb and move out of his touch.

"Sorry," he says softly, genuine apology in his voice, "was it because of what I did to L'Manberg?" He asks gently. Around you, the rain was getting heavier.

"I thought we were happy," it came out barely louder than a whisper, and you quickly wiped your eyes, despite the rain now coming down hard enough to hide your tears, "I should have... I know I should have said something, but I thought we both just knew, you know? I should have..." and you turn, bottom lip trembling, "I'm sorry, Ghostbur, I know you're not him, you keep saying that, but I never got to tell Alive-You that I... you know," you swallowed hard, "that I love him. You? Him? I never actually got to tell him properly, in a way that makes sense. But I did. I do. And I thought... Fuck," the word comes out in a harsh breath, and you find yourself scowling and looking away, "probably for the best that I didn't say anything if he - you, I guess - weren't - wasn't? - happy."

"I know he cared about you, as much as I can remember, he never stopped caring," Ghostbur's voice is quiet, and finally, you look at him. His face is scrunched up with concentration, but there's small trails of steam -

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry," you're genuinely apologetic, and he looks shocked when you look up, as if he hadn't even noticed.

"Just because I don't remember doesn't mean... well a lot of things were not good memories towards the end, but that's because of everything going on up here," he was wiping at his eyes quickly to dispel the tears before he taps his temple with two fingers, "and if what you're saying is true, he wasn't unhappy because of you, he was just unhappy, and it... there are months missing for me, and that's no-one's fault."

Oh... well you supposed you could understand that, still, it was difficult to process this whole conversation and all it's implications.

"How is this the most amusing option, if you don't mind me asking?" He suddenly speaks up, and you look up with confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"You're upset, I don't think I've ever seen you upset -"

"Well it probably wouldn't be a good memory if you had," you reminded, to which he conceded.

"But I remember clear as day when we met, and you told me and Tommy that you simply did whatever amused you the most, this... this doesn't seem particularly amusing."

"I don't operate like that anymore," you told him frankly, staring at your hands.

"Oh," he muttered softly, before asking, voice tentatively, "why did you think to come find me?"

You take a moment to deliberate, to consider your own reasoning and motivations, still looking at your hands, fingers twisting and curling and locking into inconsistent shapes.

"You used to do this near the end," you said softly, "used to run off and sit near the button and think and think and think but never do anything," you paused, "and I never cared about the land like I cared about you, so I was all for blowing it all up, but it... I could see it was doing something to you. The election, everything that was happening, it did something to you; you were spiralling, and I knew if I didn't know where you were, you were by the button. Awful and fucking beautiful, and dude, I'm- I'm so sorry I didn't tell you but, Christ, I was so in love with you, Wilb-" looking sharply at him, your voice died in your throat, and you corrected yourself, "him. Not... you're different. Right. Ghostbur." He blinked at you, a little taken aback by the sudden passion of your outburst, of your explanation. You cleared your throat. "No-one else had the balls to acknowledge that the land no longer functioned by the ideals it was built for, and I loved your passion; I could listen to you talk down there for hours. Sometimes I did. It was like a prison and a safe space all at once, and I don't know if it made things better or worse, but when he couldn't stand to see what the world had become, we'd sit in that room with the button and talk."

Finally, you looked at him, seeing him and not the man he used to be.

"And today I couldn't find you, and I knew it was going to rain, and... I know rain hurts you. There's no button, but you don't spend time in town anymore, so I looked for Friend." You looked at the little, blue sheep who'd been happily munching on some grass during your conversation. Then a faint, cold pressure in your hands, and you look down to see Ghostbur pressing a vial of a thick, blue liquid into your hands.

"Have some blue," he said softly, "it'll make you feel better." And then, much softer, he thanks you for finding him, he takes your free hand and laces your fingers with his, "thank you for talking to me."

"Thank you for talking to me." You mumble, giving his hand a squeeze, feeling a touch guilty for unloading all of this on him. No-one else would listen, or if they would, they didn't care; people had gone from not trusting you because you refused to be completely loyal to any thing but yourself, now they hated you for staying loyal to what they deemed to be the wrong thing. Allies were few and far between, and Ghostbur may see himself as separate to Wilbur, but you weren't going to stop yourself from caring about him too.

----

"You're in here," Tommy's voice is quiet where he's thumbing through a notebook you half recognise. Making a noise of interest, you look a little closer at the notebook - What I Remember. Ghostbur's notes, you feel yourself growing tongue tied.

"I don't- you shouldn't be reading that."

"You suddenly decided to grow a conscience?"

"Shut up," your lip curled, "and I'm not in it."

"Who else would be the Favourite Jester?" He asked, turning the book around, but you covered your eyes. 

"Don't be a sook," he sneered.

"Does Ghostbur know you have it?" You asked, and he grew a little antsy at that, to which you simply growled at him to give it back. But still, you catch a glimpse of it;

“Its you.” - in the notebook, in Ghostbur's neat scrawl - you chose me when no-one else did.

----

"I think Tommy trusts me," you told Dream, frowning at your brewing stand. Dream, for his part, finds the humour in your statement where he's sitting at your table, leaning back, his feet on the table.

"Tommy, I've changed!" Your tone shifts to a mocking imitation of your earlier conversation with the boy, "death has changed me!" And you dropped the act with a snort, "getting a scar doesn't make me a different person," you rolled your eyes. Dream clears his throat.

"Sorry about that, again," he muttered.

"No hard feelings, dude, obviously," you grinned over your shoulder.

"So you- you're okay with my plan; the two of you fought side by side for your nation -"

"I'll be by your side until -"

"Until something better comes along," Dream nods in resignation.

----

“I’m sorr- Ghostbur I’m so sorry,” you sniffled, angrily rubbing at your eyes, frustrated that he had even seen you get so emotional, “I’m not- you shouldn’t have seen that, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, crying’s normal,” he said, voice a gentle echo of the one you loved, “do you want to talk about it?”

“Not with you, Ghostbur,” though you’re shooting for light, it doesn’t land, and instead, he looks to the floor, apologising. You wipe the tears that refuse to stop spilling from your eyes.

“You still miss him so much it moves you to tears?”

“You caught me in a moment of weakness.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of those,” he says with a faint laugh, and you look at him, see his quietly fond smile, and for a moment you see the memory of Wilbur himself, and your expression crumples. Immediately as you bury your face in your hands, you feel him by your side, apologising, trying to lay a comforting hand on your arm. The touch is cold but familiar, and you reach out instinctively and grab his hand.

“Ghostbur, my life is a fucking joke and I’m not laughing anym-” he kisses you quick when he gets the chance, his mouth on yours so close to being familiar, but not quite. It knocks the wind from you, and for a moment you let yourself fall into it, grabbing his sweater and pulling him closer. 

“Does that help?” He asks a little breathless when you part, and you can’t look him in the eyes, only at your shaking hands balled up in his perfect, yellow sweater. 

“You’re not him,” your voice is a shaky whisper.

“I...” his words get caught in his throat, “I think right now I’m close enough. Does this,” and he holds your face with one hand like it’s porcelain, like he’s afraid you’re about to shatter, “does this help?”

“Why?” You can feel how weak you are in this moment, unable to let him go, knowing the truth of the whole situation. 

“I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“It’s not your job to make me happy, give me time and I’ll be alright,” but you don’t let him go, then, “tell me you don’t love me, please.”

“It seems dangerous to even entertain the idea; I’m not Wilbur,” he says gently, and finally you look at him, meeting his gaze, leaning into his touch. 

“Do you even want any of this?” Your voice is barely a whisper, “me, or anything like this moment?” Ghostbur visibly hesitated.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” he said with a surprising firmness, “I want to do whatever makes you happy,” then, his voice goes quiet, “even now, I forget sad things, people tell me sad things and the conversation ends, and I just... lose whatever they said,” he gives a faint smile, “but even in time that aren’t... aren’t the happiest, I haven’t forgotten you; something about being around you makes me happy, happy enough to remember you. All I want is for you to be happy too.”

“Did you lie to me?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper, and you can’t look him in the eyes, so you watch his lips twist into something thin and unhappy, before stumbling over his words, trying to deny, “did you lie about not remembering me? About not remembering... not remembering how close we were?”

“I thought...” his expression reads apology, his hands coming to cover yours where you can’t bring yourself to let him go, still holding him close by his sweater, “it would be easier for you to let go, to move on, if you didn’t know.” 

“But you don’t care about me like he did.”

“I care about you,” his eyes go wide and concerned, “but I’m not him. You understood him better than anyone and- and- and- he needed you- uh, your company,” he correct, faint blush rising on his cheeks at his own implicit wording, “more than anything else. You’re the one who stayed.” 

You swallowed hard, huffing a humourless laugh.

“And he’s the one who got away.”

“Y/N...”

“This feels...” you look to your hands still holding him close, then to his mouth, then his eyes, taking a shakey breath, “self destructive, for us both,” and his expression reads shock, reads apology, but in that instance you cave to your need for contact, leaning into him, to find what comfort you could in him. A shiver runs down your spine as you make a snap decision, “I know you’re not him, but I still love you,” you lie; he’s not the one you promised to always be honest with, but for now he’s as close as you’ve got, and you can’t let him go, “please don’t go.” 

----

It’s been a long time, relatively since you’d seen Q when you run into him. You’re not looking for him, you’re merely roaming on an overcast day, but he looks like he’s on a mission. He seems surprised to see you, right before his expression turns dark.

“Figures I’d run into you out here sooner or later,” his words genuinely confuse you, which he seems to pick up on, because at least for a moment, he seems confused himself, before clarifying, “Dream’s in prison.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t ‘oh’ me.” His audible irritation makes your own smile grow just a touch wider, “you know you should be there too.”

“Cruel, Q, they’ve already killed me for my crimes once,” you practically sing, amused smile stretched from ear to ear, “haven’t I suffered enough?” His smile was thin and mean.

“Not even close.”

“You make me miss being a bad person,” you say with a hint of self deprecation.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Quackity snorted, “you’re still terrible.”

“I like you standing up for yourself; self confidence is a good look on you.”

“You like anyone who actually challenges you,” he rolled his eyes, “which makes me feel fucking stupid for ever caring about you like I did. You don’t give a shit about simps, I get it now.”

“You’re better than that,” you tell him, which is a metaphorical slippery-slope, a half truth, since you only half-believe it, but your tone is low, is sincere, and he blinks quickly, surprised. 

“I- yeah, I know,” he scowls, but turns away. 

“Good, it’s good you know your worth,” you tell him seriously, “you have...” and you huff a faint laugh, tone awed and gentle, “so much potential, Q.” And for the barest moment, his expression softens. Carefully, he steps up to you.

“This is how it started last time,” his tone is low as you feel the feather-light way his fingertips ghost up your arm. He’s in your space, gaze locked with yours, searching for something in you that you can’t begin to guess at, right before he grabs your chin hard enough that it hurts, “you try and  build me up so you can tear me down - I’m not doing this again.” 

God damn it, you can feel your heart beat against your ribs at the sight of the fury in his eyes. 

“Q-” you try, soft and a little helpless. For a moment, both his grip and his gaze softens, and you know that look, that faint gentleness, from a time long passed, “I never spoke poorly of you, you just lost faith in me.” 

The look in his eyes before he storms off gives him away; he hates that in a twisted way, it’s still the truth.

----

“I’ve always appreciated your honesty,” Ghostbur muses; night is falling over the snowy biome you’d decided to call home, the house Dream had built for himself that sat abandoned since he was taken prisoner. Ghostbur is sitting on a bench, looking around, ankles crossed wearing a sunny smile.

“It’s the only thing I’m consistent about,” gave a wry smile, not looking up from where you were crouched in front of you brewing stand; everything started because of these brewing stands, just look how far you’ve come. You try not to dwell on that.

“Consistently inconsistent,” his tone was bright and fond, but then he hums, “you’re consistent in a lot of ways; you’re loyal -” he points out, but you’re so quick to respond it doesn’t even register at first. 

“Only because I love you,” then, silence, and you scrunch up your whole face with regret, “him, Wilbur,” you sigh deeply, “don’t get me wrong, Ghostbur, I care about you, probably too much by my standards, but...” and you trail off, a touch apologetic.

“Everyone keeps telling me that I did, or well, he did, all these terrible things; I just... I just want to know why.”

“Why what? Why he did what he did?”

“Why you still loved him when he did all those things,” Ghostbur clarified. You freeze.

“You want me to be honest?” Your voice is soft, and when you look over, you see he’s drawn his legs up to sit cross-legged on the counter, tearing apart a loaf of bread for something to do with his hands. 

“You’re always honest,” his tone is earnest, but he can’t look at you, before you can speak, however, he goes on, tone softer, “I remember bits and pieces, more and more as time goes on. More of you is always coming back; more of us, and I thought not remembering would be the most painful part about being around you, making you sad because I can’t remember what happened to make you feel so close to me before... before I died, but I think remembering’s worse,” he looked up, “because I’m not him. Like I’m borrowing someone else’s memories even though they’re mine, because I don’t think like he did; I don’t think I understood you the way he does. I don’t...”

“Everyone’s so quick to tell me what terrible things I’ve done - my son, Fundy, I spoke to him, he’s- he’s- he’s not happy with me, you know? Nor is Tommy, I mean most people just need me to know how awful I was, but you... you speak his name with love and honey on your lips and I don’t know how or why, you make all the terrible things sound like miracles and I don’t know why.” 

Slowly, you get to your feet, stretching a little, as your words begin to fall from you and you make your way over to Ghostbur, his pale form golden in the candlelight.

“I don’t know how to put it, but I don’t... I never feel quite real, not - for lack of a better word, given the nature of everyone here - human enough, and I look around and I see Tommy and Tubbo and George and Puffy and -” you rest your hands on his knees, gently, as you watch his hands tearing apart the loaf of bread, “and they’re all effortlessly people, they’re good, they’ve got dirt beneath their nails and a sparkle in their eyes, and I tried being good and noble and honest, and the only part I liked was being honest but being too honest somehow made me the villain; no-one understood. Dream came the closest, he felt like another amalgamation of interactions pretending to be human, but he knew his power and his place and his role, and he didn’t understand that I had no interest in playing the same part over and over again; consistently inconsistent, apart from my honesty and my loyalty. He liked my honesty and loyalty, so he did his best to accept the rest of me that came with it.”

Looking him in the eyes, finally, you could see it dawning on Ghostbur. Your fingers tapped a gentle, inconsistent rhythm on his knees. 

“But Wilbur... you - he - he... he...”

“He loved you,” Ghostbur’s voice was gentle, but after all this time, the confirmation from his returning memories, it was enough for your voice to catch in your throat. Then, he nodded again like it was a confirmation, “he loved you.”

“He loved me,” you said, voice barely more than a whisper, “not despite who I was, but because of it, loved all of me, at least, that’s what it felt like... I’d never felt that before, and I... I never wanted to let it go,” he’s putting the bread to the side, slowly sliding off of the counter and into your space, “he was staying true to himself, and they hated him for it, but I never could, and I never will.” You murmur, as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly in the dimly lit room. 

“It’s you,” you whispered against the fabric of his sweater, echoing your words from what feels like a lifetime ago, “above everyone else, I choose you. You have my loyalty.”

A moment of silence; he swallows hard, presses his face into the crook of your neck.

“It’s you,” he whispers back, just as Wilbur had those months ago; at the time you though they were an incredulous echo of your own thoughts, but now you know it’s an admission, a return of affection, a declaration; you have my loyalty, he’d been trying to tell you. 

You can’t tell Ghostbur you love him, you can’t tell him you love him, you cannot tell him you love him, no matter how much you want to. He’s not Wilbur. He’s not the Wilbur you fell in love with. 

You tell him anyways. Whisper it like it’s a secret. 

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

His answer comes whispered with a kiss at your temple, a small token of comfort.

“I know.”

----

The world had fallen still in a way you had only felt before natural disasters. There was quiet. There was peace. Something was wrong. Your conversation with Dream played on repeat in your mind, over and over and over.

"You will owe me a life." You can't forget the gravitas with which he'd said it, eyes dark and eerie as he sat cross-legged on the floor of his prison; you will owe me a life.

The phrasing had caught you off guard, because what in the hell did that even mean? It could mean anything, hell he could claim your first child if he wanted to, but you'd been desperate enough to not question, to just accept.

"You really do love him, don't you?" He'd said softly as you'd sat opposite him, when he'd jokingly asked if you'd take his place in the prison in exchange for Wilbur back.

"Of course," had been your serious answer to both questions. Dream had laughed, equal parts fond and weary, his gaze drifting up to the impossibly high ceiling.

"Its a nice thought, though I doubt Sam would simply let you switch with me," he mused, adding, "you know Ghostbur won't be around anymore."

"But Wilbur will be alive," you insisted, and finally he looks at you.

"You trust me," its not a question.

"I've always trusted you," its not a lie. Dream blinks at you, surprised by your honesty. He should be, somehow everyone overlooks your defining trait being brutal honestly. Moments like this remind you why you need Wilbur back so desperately; he understood you in a way no-one else did, not even Dream.

"I killed you," he says, almost to himself, like he's just remembered that fact.

"I know," you nodded, "and I trusted you then, and I trust you now. Everything happens-"

"Don't say for a reason," Dream gritted his teeth with irritation at the phrase, but you gave a faint smile.

"No, I was just going to say that everything happens. We live, we die," you shrugged.

"Then why are you asking me to bring him back?"

"I didn't realise your book of necromancy was purely for decoration," there's a slight edge to your words, lip curling in knee-jerk defensiveness. Dream looked back at you suddenly, eyebrows rising at your tone.

"Is that why you trust me?" There's something betrayed in his voice, and he sits back, away from you, something dangerous in his eyes.

"That's..." you tried to find a way to talk your way out of the situation, but your inability to lie was more of a hindrance now than anything else, "so reductive," you settle on. But you're fidgeting.

"Then complicate it for me," he's practically ordering, and if he weren't the only way to bring back Wilbur, you wouldn't be complying so easily. Then, like a bolt of lighting it hits you; you look up, gaze unwaivering as you meet his.

"Kill me."

"What?"

"Kill me. Don't bring me back," you yourself are almost ordering, tone leaving little room for argument.

"What the fuck; why?" He hissed in confusion, and you knew, in that instance, that your point would be clear.

"Why not?" Something amused and sinister curled at the edge of your lips as you regained the upper hand in the conversation, "if you'd prefer, I could kill myself; walk straight into the lava until my lives run out," and with that, you carefully get to your feet as he frowns at you. Sauntering over to the flowing, molten walls, you stick your hands in your pockets, looking pensively at the liquid rock.

"Wouldn't it kill two birds with one stone? If I'm dead, maybe I'll find my way back to Will, and you won't have to revive him. That's what the kids call a win-win, right? I won't ask you for anything, but, you know, I won't owe you anything either."

When you look to him, you get to watch in real time as it dawns on him. The way his face contorts with bitter anger makes your own, imposing, gloating stance soften, even as he looks away, refusing to look at you.

"I don't..." you sighed deeply, "I don't trust you because I know you can revive me, I trust you because you're a pragmatist, Dream, and as long as I'm useful to you, well..." you trail off, coming back to him.

"I don't understand you," he said, finally, voice terse, "you've fucking commodified your existence and sold your allegiance to the highest bidder; how do you stand it? I get it, you think I'm controlling, fucking news flash, so was Wilbur, so was fucking Techno, so is everyone. We're a bunch of cruel, self-canalising, power-hungry assholes masquerading as heroes and villains trying to make ourselves feel better for the atrocities we commit."

"And what currency am I selling myself for?" You snort, despite his serious tone; when he looks at you, as if he can't believe you're laughing at his rant, you tip your head and regard him thoughtfully, "while I appreciate that that seemed to have been weighing on you for a while, I'd advise you to not project your shit onto me; have I ever cared about having power for myself?"

That's actually a good point, he seems to realise, and finally, his expression softens, and he gets to his feet.

"Do you care about anyone other than yourself?" Surprisingly, it's not judgemental, it's intrigued, like he has a sudden understand of you that makes everything else make sense. Your smile is so soft and unguarded as you gently cup his cheek with one hand, fondly rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

"You know, you might be my best friend," you told him instead of answering, "and I trust you." He takes a deep breath, expression going serious as you can almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

"Despite... fucking everything, and who you are as a person," he said with the faintest smile, "I actually trust you too," but he hesitates, the slightest crease forming above his brow, "but I don't think I can still say that if Wilbur comes back -"

"Dude -" you're surprised by Dream's honesty in turn, but you do respect it as he clarifies himself.

"He's the one you care about, the only one besides yourself, I know, I've seen it," he gives a faint smirk, "we're still friends, of course, there's no doubt about that, but if I asked you to kill someone that Wilbur would rather have alive, or if I asked you to, say, join me on an adventure with a low survival rate, if Wilbur asked, you'd choose him, wouldn't you? You'd do whatever it takes to make him happy."

"Dream... I -"

"Your loyalty is absolute, but selective; you put yourself first, then Wilbur, and maybe I'm overestimating my place in your life, but I think I may be below him, but above most others..."

"What are you saying? What do you want?" You asked carefully.

"I'll bring back Wilbur, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I'll bring him back, but you'll owe me a life," and you can't even begin to properly process what he's saying, "not his," Dream clarifies, "I wouldn't do that to you, but in one way or another, you will owe me a life, and when I ask for it, however that may be, you need to uphold your end of the bargain, or I'll send him right back to where he is now."

I'll bring Wilbur back. I'll bring Wilbur back. I'll bring Wilbur back. That's the four words he'd said that you're fixating on, that're playing through your mind on repeat, and you practically crush Dream in a hug as you agree, breathlessly thanking him. He hugs you back, and you can feel his smile against your shoulder, laughing somewhat fondly at the notes of relief in your voice as you mutter that he's your favourite.

"For now," he snorts when you step back, and you give a sheepish smile, ducking your gaze.

"For now," you agree.

----

"Who let you- does Sam know you're in here?" Quackity's voice is dangerously quiet, a strange smile on his face, like having you here is a boon rather than a terrible mistake.

"Q, what the fuck?" You rubbed at your eyes, forcing the sleep from them. Dream is already scrambling as far as he can from the newcomer, anger and fear in his eyes. He tells Quackity to fuck off.

"What are you doing here? You planning an escape for my favourite little war criminal?" He paused, "have you moved on now that your favourite little war criminal is dead?" Everything about him seems sharp, seems cruel and threatening; something about it is thrilling, like a challenge, and you find yourself standing to your full height, refusing to drop his gaze.

“Big Q,” you take some small pride in the fact that your voice doesn’t shake, “you’re looking markedly more malicious today.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been coming here for a while, looking for one simple thing, and your buddy there really hasn’t exactly been helpful,” there’s a faintly manic gleam in his eye, but your blood is hissing and spitting in your veins, conflicted and delighted in equal measure -

“He was your friend you fucking asshole!” The words burst from you, disgusted as you wear a manic grin. 

“I was your friend, you fucking piece of shit!” He hollers back, “I was more than your fr-” but his mouth snaps shut, expression one of seething rage, “don’t fucking talk like you still trust him, like you care about him;” the curl of Quackity’s lip is cruel, the look in his eyes cold as he shifts his grip on his sword; a humourless laugh escapes him, “except, of course it’s you who still cares; first Dream, then Wilbur, the only people you actually care about are just like you,” and there’s so much derision in his voice that it almost stings, almost, if he wasn’t right. How can he not see the way his cruel tone delight you? How can he not see the irony in his words in this very moment; “now fuck off, you’re in my way.” He sneers.

“I’m not letting you hurt him,” you refused to move, and his eyes widened, disbelieving laugh escaping him.

“Look at that! Did the wizard finally give you a fucking heart?” 

“Look at that!” You mirror his tone, though your own is acidic, pushing, you’re pushing him now, the way you know best, “did you finally get over your pathetic feelings? You finally getting smart enough to see me as a real threat?” And you’re in his space, in his face, refusing to back down, waiting for the moment he snaps.

“I never cared about you, I cared about the fact that you paid me attention; note the difference,” he snarled; it’s a lie, you know it’s a lie, can remember the way he’d looked at you, how he’d almost died for you, and it’s fucking intoxicating.

“You’re so good at hearing the truth, but you’re fucking shit at obfuscating it,” you tell him with a cool confidence, “I hung the stars in your sky, Quackity,” his jaw clenched tightly at your change in tone, the look in your eye, “but tell me again about how it was all an act for you, say it in a way I’ll believe this time.” It’s designed to cut him, and you can see it in his eyes when it does. Fight back, damn it! 

“Maybe I’ll give Dream the day off, kill you instead,” he tries, but you can tell his heart’s not in it. 

“This isn’t fun for him like it is for you,” Dream pipes up, and Quackity shoots him a surprisingly confused look, while your look over your shoulder, faint disappointment in your eyes. Dream, however, exhausted and paranoid with Quackity in his cell, still has enough wherewithal to understand you better than almost anyone else.  

“I wish you would,” you don’t look away from Quackity. Your voice is cold in the wake of Dream’s revelation, and when he looks back at you, Quackity looks... uncertain. A dangerous state to be in considering his opposition.

“You’re down to your last life, don’t fucking test me,” Quackity warned, but his heart’s not in it like before. As you approach him, he raises his weapon, but your confidence strides never falter, “Sam wouldn’t give a shit if I killed you, no-one would.” 

“You would,” you tell him snidely, finding yourself growing sick of the sound of his half-baked cruelty. 

“Are you just here to let what you love kill you?” He gives a mean, humourless smile. 

“Bold to assume I love you, Q.”

“Well, seeing as the only bastard you ever knew how to love was so eager to off himself, I figured I might be all you have left to get back to him,” there’s faint triumph in his eyes when he can see his malicious words touched a nerve, but he wasn’t playing your game right, and you were tired of not having fun.

“It’s not my fucking fault you look for a home in everyone who’s halfway nice to you,” something in you snaps, and your tone is cold and unwaivering, “don’t blame me for your fragile sense of self; you were so ready to believe anything I told you, but when I did what people fucking do - when I let you down - you had to go and let it shatter you,” you sneered.

“You being a shitty person is my fault?” He scoffed, and you stepped up to him, emboldened. You barely even feel his sword at your throat.

“Before breaking your cheap, little heart, I hadn’t been honest a day in my life; everyone had told you as much, you chose to ignore them; did you think you could fix me?” You gave a harsh laugh, stepping forward, crowding him into taking a step back, expression irate, trying to keep up his strong front, “Actually, I guess, wow, you did; since you, I haven’t told a lie,” and you gave him a derisive look, “because fucking you up wasn’t a challenge, making you fall in love with me wasn’t a challenge, getting you to the point where you’d die for me? Not a fucking challenge, Quackity. You offered me your life and it fucking bored me.

Talking to me makes you want to be a worse person? Good luck with that; you will always be better than you fear, better than you fucking hope or wish you were, because you couldn’t fucking stomach killing me once, you couldn’t fucking stomach being a truly terrible person.

You want my blood on your hands? Your hands were mine, and I couldn’t have given less of a shit, so no, if I have any say, you’re not gonna hurt Dream, because you’re hurting him to get the thing that’s going to bring back the person I actually fucking fell in love with. I can’t believe I ever wasted my time on you when he was out there.

I’m tired of trying to be amicable with you when you’re still - fucking still - picking up the pieces and trying to figure out who the fuck you are; God, I fucking hope you kill me, I hope it brings you peace, I hope it brings you clarity, but you better make sure it counts, you better make sure it fucking sticks!” 

----

"You do things that hurt you because you don't know what else to do, even if you don't enjoy them," Ranboo's voice is flat, and your expression twists to something derisive, though you attempt to regain your composure.

"Incredibly presumptuous of you," you respond, still alive, if burned.

----

"How many more?" Ghostbur's touch was light on your forearm, tracing the shiny, healed scar of where you'd thrown your hands up to protect your face as Quackity had shoved you into the lava waterfall that surrounded Dream's cell. It hadn’t killed you; he hadn’t been able to go through with it, and the lava curtain parted as the bridge approached the cell at Sam’s command. But it had still left it’s mark.

"What?" You surfaced from your thoughts as his cool hand stilled against the memory of the burn.

"How many more until you see him again?" He asks, and he doesn't look sad often, but he can't look you in the eyes. Then, gently, his hand comes to rest on your shoulder, thumb brushing against the scar that stands out on your neck, a perfect circle, a perfect reminder of what you’d lost the second time you’d died.  

And you meet his gaze, can see the nerves hidden just behind his eyes - is this why you do this? Am I… not enough? What a dangerous thought, dangerous territories; how cruel you were to let him fall for you, even a little, even when both of you knew it was a terrible idea. 

Dream's voice was in your head - Ghostbur won't be around anymore - and you'd answered without flinching - but Wilbur will be alive. 

"One," your voice came out hoarse, "one life and I'll see him again." You can't look him in the eyes, even as he holds your face; he has no idea what to say to that. It's the truth, but not the one he realises. 

"You don't love me, right?" You asked, clearing your throat, moving carefully out of his reach.

"You shouldn't kill yourself for him," Ghostbur tells you with uncompromising sincerity instead of answering, "you're worth more than that."

"I need you to tell me that you don't have feelings for me, Ghostbur -"

"Seems like a very worrying thing to be asking given the circumstances," again he tries to deflect, but there's something close to guilt eating you up inside, and you stand, moving out of his space, Dream's voice in your head.

"Do you love me or not, Ghost of Wilbur Soot?" You demanded, and his expression turned hard, so unlike his usual self.

"I'm not him," he said carefully, but his gaze dropped; he couldn't look you in the eyes, "and I don't think it should matter either way, because you've made it abundantly clear that he's the one you want; I'm not going to say I don't and let you kill yourself."

"I promise I'm not going to fucking kill myself!"

Ghostbur went very quiet. 

“Any answer is dangerous, really, so it doesn’t matter either way,” he’s pulling his sleeves down to cover his hands, to fiddle with, trying to distract himself, “I love Friend,” his tone was aiming for something light-hearted, an attempt to change the topic, and it did it’s job well enough; your lips twisted into a grin.

“First a Salmon, then a Sheep, your tastes are -” but he looks at you, giving a strangely amused little smile.

“Questionable?” He finishes your sentence, and you find yourself less amused with the situation; he brings up a good point, including you all the same, though you’d been meaning to say bestial, but fuck, what does that make you? For a moment, you find yourself in crisis, wondering if you were technically in a polyamorous relationship with a ghost and an actual sheep. But you push it to the side -

“It’s selfish,” you hear his voice in your head, see him looking at you with wide, shiny eyes in the dim light of a pub, but you can’t help but repeat the words that had been said to you, “but I need to know for me -”

Ghostbur could say anything, and you see the realisation dawning on his face; he knows what you’re asking. He could be silent, he could brush you off, he could say anything else -

“It’s you,” just the way you’d said it to Wilbur, confirming what you feared; Ghostbur drops his gaze when he says those words to you, when he means to say I love you, how can you not see that?

Those two words hang in the air between you, like they always have. You should leave. You should go before you develop a conscience. But you can’t... there’s something familiar, something intoxicating about this moment, his loyalty; you’ve seen this before, you’ve craved this before. 

You step up to him, and as if on instinct, he rests his hands on your hips, leaning into your touch when you hold his cheek gently. 

“I love you,” your murmur, and his eyes fall closed, breathing deeply, “I love you.” It’s easy, it’s too easy, to fall back into this, to let him rest his forehead against yours, your arms around his neck, knowing in your heart that his loyalty, his love, was a means to an end; “I love you.”

He trusts your words, even now. 

“Please don’t go,” he whispers, pulling you close now, moving to press his lips to the crook of your neck. So you stay. Your time with him is limited, though only you know that, so you will enjoy it while you can.

----

"This was your plan," Tommy muttered, horrified, as the realisation dawned on him, "you're the one who pointed out that killing Dream in the prison didn't break any of the prison's rules," he whispered, before turning on you, eyes wide, Friend's leash still looped around his wrist, "you're the one who suggested using Ghostbur as a decoy, because no-one would suspect him."

"You set him up," Ranboo was horrified. One by one they were turning on you.

"You knew Ghostbur didn't- he didn't want to be revived!" Tubbo exclaimed, hurt and betrayed, "I thought - Y/N I thought you loved him, how could you -?!"

"Wilbur and Ghostbur are not the same person! How do you all keep forgetting that?!" You snarled in response, expression contorting to one of rage; that was enough to shock them into silence, taking a step back as they regarded you with a new kind of fear.

"We were happier with Wilbur gone, we liked Ghostbur and he liked us!" Tommy exclaimed, before his voice dropped to something soft and betrayed, hurt in his eyes, "Ghostbur didn't fucking deserve that; you're a terrible person," and your expression dropped to a smirk that didn't reach your eyes.

"I'm sorry about Ghostbur, I am, but the ends justifies the means; do you remember what I told you when L'Manburg was first forming? I told you I'm not on Dream's side, but I'm also not on yours," and you paused for a moment, before looking to the heavy remains of the button room, through which you knew Wilbur himself would finally be returning any moments now, "I'm on Wilbur's."

----

Then you see him, and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck this is real and you owe Dream a life and Wilbur is alive. You're frozen in place. He's talking to Tommy, who sounds frankly horrified that Wilbur is back, but you're frozen. Heart beating in your throat, the sunrise that’s coming brings with it a warmth, though to you it feels closer to vindication. 

And there’s yelling and horror from the others who’ve accompanied you, but you can’t hear them, approaching slowly, with measured, even steps.

Then, his eyes meet yours and something in his expression softens. When he smiles at you, every terrible thing you did was worth it for this moment. Having the others there is too much. You don't want an audience, you don't want anyone there to judge you and your choices, the things you've done to get to this moment.

"This," Tommy turns on you, "this is what you bloody well wanted; now you're acting all shy? " His lip curled, and your expression turned flat and unamused.

“Don’t mistake respect for shyness,” you tell him bluntly, with a cool confidence that was unrecognisable to the blonde, who hadn’t known you well enough before he’d begun starting conflict to know the depths to which you could sink. But he was beginning to learn. 

“She’s part of the reason I’m here at all,” Wilbur reprehends him, while Tommy physically recoils at his tone, "Dream himself said as much." And then he's offering you his hand; nothing else matters.

"I can't be here," there's disgust in Tommy's voice, but its enough that the others leave, giving you and Wilbur peace. Finally.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," you tell him, taking his hand with a sharp smile, which he mirrors.

"Thirteen years I was stuck in that train station, and you're just as stunning as when I last saw you," he muses, and you reaches out to run your fingers gently through the unfamiliar white strands of his hair. His eyes study your face, your expression, drinking you in; you'd missed how dark his eyes could be, and when you look back at him, meet his gaze, you see a hunger there.

"Don't leave me," escapes you, but it comes out as a demand, insistent, “don’t ever fucking leave me again,” and you see him swallow hard, then slowly, he smiles.

"Never again," and he's kissing you desperately, mouth on yours with an intensity you relish. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you - you can taste it on his tongue, sticky sweet and somehow sharp and you dig your nails into him, maybe trying to keep him here, keep you both in this moment. When the kiss breaks and you're breathing hard, you don't let him go, though he doesn't either.

"You lied for me," he muttered, something akin to delight on his face, which shocked you enough that you stepped back, or at least tried to, though he held you tight, "no, not-" he tried to clarify, "I won't leave, I don't plan on it, but- I love you." Your heart is beating in your throat, still not quite sure what he means, "I've loved you for a long time," he added, and reaching out, he cupped your face in his hand, "I remember this," he murmured, "Ghostbur - you're scared I didn't love you because he couldn't remember, but I loved you so much, for so long, I just knew... knew what I was going to do. I knew I was going to leave you, I loved you but I was so doomed, so he couldn't remember."

When had your vision gone cloudy, when had tears started to sting your eyes.

"Don't cry, my love," Wilbur murmured, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours as your breath stuttered from your chest as he soothed the biggest fear that had been plaguing you for months.

"Were you worried that I didn't love you because of him?" He asked, like he enjoyed hearing you bare your soul. Of course he did. You remember kissing Ghostbur, his cold lips and soft apologies when you'd pulled away, and you wonder if Wilbur had those memories too.

"He's not you, no point trying to fret about your feelings based on his actions," you huff a watery laugh, finally letting go of him with one hand to wipe at your tears, “he didn’t understand me like you did, but he...” you swallowed hard, “I’m glad to have had him around in the interim.” Wilbur’s lips twist into an amused smile, and his gaze clouds over for the barest moment; you wonder if he can see your resolve cracking in Ghostbur’s memories, taking comfort in his when he’s the closest thing to Wilbur himself that you can find, the lies you’d told to keep him by your side in your moments of selfish desperation.

“I think he loved you, in his own way,” Wilbur said gently. However, as you made a vaguely guilty noise in the back of your throat, he continues thoughtfully, "though, you know, when Dream came to pick me up on that train, when Ghostbur took my place, Dream made sure we both knew, you know; she's the reason you're here, Ghostbur, he'd said, and said that makes you part of the reason that I'm coming back at all," he muses, strange quality to his voice that you couldn't quite place, though when your eyes were dry, you looked at him definitely, challengingly.

"He's not you," you reiterated, firmer this time, "I cared for him for what he was, but he's not the one I want; I love you." You said without hesitation, before you realise what you've said, and you go still, before taking his face in your hands, making sure he's looking you in the eyes, "I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, Wilbur; I love you, I fucking love you -" and he's endeared by your declaration as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face against the crook of his neck, whispering the words like you're hoping they'll find a place on his skin forever.

"I didn't tell you before and I'm never making that mistake again,” you admitted faintly; “it’s you.”

“Above all others, I choose you,” his smile is warm, and something bright lights up in your chest. Grinning, elated in this moment that you’d worked so hard to finally get to.

“You have my loyalty, my love.”

[cemoras27-but-writing-this-time]

Danny's Evil Jaunt Pt. 3

(this is the chapter but I have work soon so I will tag everyone later a swell as links) @little-pondhead @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 (you two get tagged because your the big inspirations :D

warnings: swearing

Word count: 1.3k

Let it be known that Fright Knight loves his job. It's literally why he still exists. He exists to serve the King of the Infinite Realms and stand as the embodiment of Halloween and similar celebrations. That said, he feels conflicted as he gazes at the mechanical husk his future king shows off. 

Compared to a normal mortal, its stature was massive. Though for Fright Knight it was about equal height, possibly a little smaller. The inspiration was clear and a little flattering. The metal was shaped into a stylized Fright Knight, complete with a (mundane) sword.

He eyes his king as the Halfa clings to its arm. He rambled about how he was planning on taking the husk to a pocket that was populated with heroes with him to guard him, and how he wanted Fright Knight to help with ‘teaching it how to do those cool sword moves you do Frighty!’.

Has his king replaced him?!?! No, surely not! There's no way this heap of scrap could ever compare! He had been around for CENTURIES while this thing hadn't even existed an hour ago! The king still had his hands inside it making adjustments yet!

“My Liege! Please forgive any misgivings about this… thing, but may I know the purpose of such a creation? You said that it was for protection yet I am here.”

His king turned his head towards him, arms still hidden within the side of the imposter. “His name is Fright-bot, and he's gonna keep the heroes off me while I work! They get annoying when you're trying to do some welding and all of a sudden you have like three arrows comin’ at ya real fast.” the young Halfa finally pulled his glove clad hands out of the monstrosity.

“He's also for keeping my other works safe, that's why I need him first. I’m thinkin’ of keeping most of my bots in my ‘therapy’ dimension that Clocky showed me for convenience, and they need a guard! But I can't just have you away to protect them! You need to do head guard stuff! I know you want to protect me and stuff but I can’t just let you just out in the living world with me all the time!” the king continued as he slid the siding back onto the almost finished robot. “Besides! It's kinda like you're protecting me from afar! Since it’ll be your techniques and stuff. I just gave it a body and Tuck helped me with the learning algorithm stuff so you can teach it.” his legs finally released his hold on the beings arm, dropping into a handstand and falling back onto his feet upright.

The flaming kight considered this. While it’s true that he can’t always accompany his king (as much as he would like to) it would be nice to have some assurance that the King would be safe. Perhaps he could convince the King into some sort of deal…?

Well Danny could say that he’s extremely happy with the events that happened at the castle! He and Frighty came to a deal finally! Frighty would teach Fright-bot how to fight and stuff but Danny would have to put in a built-in alarm system that notified Frighty that something bad was happening, so he could come in and save Danny’s day. Overall pretty good! Now to start working on those blueprints, he was so excited!

‘Ok, who gave the kid permission to build huge robots?’ Oliver thought as he saw the Fenton kid perched on top of the mecha-knight looking thing, and pulled back on his bow. Just as he released the arrow the thing’s head swiveled around like an owl and caught the damn thing! The kid looked up at Ollie and smiled.

“HI MISTER ARROW!! HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?” the kid shouted at him and jumped off the robot. Oliver sighed and readied another shot but was forced off his rooftop position by the purple knight.

“Who's your friend there, kid? He looks like the wrong kinda crowd,” the kid’s grin grew wider as he unfolded that damn cannon and attached it to a slightly glowing tank on his thigh.

“Do Ya like ‘im?! I built him myself, his name is Fright-Bot!” The fanged grin of the kid did not get any less unsettling as the newly dubbed ‘Fright-bot’ landed next to Fenton again.

“Uh uh, real nice kid. Why don’t you calm down and give up for today, yeah?” Oliver made sure to keep the knight within his sight. It honestly looked like it could snap someone in half.

“Hmm? Ahh.. I don't think so Mr.Arrow, I worked really hard on Fright-bot and I wanna see how I can make him better y’know! I promise I’ll keep the damage to a minimum!”

“You have your fingers crossed behind your back, don’t you.”

“What nooo… I would never lie Mr. Arrow, it's very hurtful that you would even CONSIDER that I would do such a thing. I believe you owe me an Ice cream now!”

“Kid, there was a snowstorm yesterday. And I don’t think you need any sugar.” The bow pulled back and the Knight rushed.

It wasn’t a fair fight in the slightest, Ollie was out numbered and the goo that was glowing a slight blue-green did not help. Especially with the still slick roads, so it was only a matter of time before his legs were stuck to the concrete. Frozen actually, the goo turned into weird ice. Fenton had the big guy grab his arms while the kid himself searched his body, eventually finding his wallet. The one he brought on patrol in case he got a bit hungry. Guess he was really buying the kid ice cream after all.

“14..15..16..21. Nice! You think it’ll cover it Fright-bot? I don’t know the prices but I think it’ll be enough. You watch Mr. Arrow for me! I’ll be back soon I promise!” and like that the kid expertly glided over the iced roads and into the Ice cream parlor. To be fair to the kid, the Ice cream here was kinda expensive.

While the kid was gone Oliver tried to escape from the Ice and the robot, but neither were budging. Well until Roy came up and stabbed the focused robot in the back, somehow causing it to malfunction and release Ollie’s arms. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud as Fenton came out of the parlor. 

“Oh no! HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!” Fenton screeched. Then released a guttural groan and whine. “Come onnnn…. I still had an hour left! And now I have to leave EARLY!” he honest to god pouted at the two vigilanties. 

Then a lazarus green swirling mass opened in between the opposing parties and out stepped another Fright-bot, this time with a much more intimidating demeanor. This one was bathed in purple fire and held a sword covered in green flames that gave off the feeling of nightmares. 

“MY KING! I RECEIVED THE ALERT AND CAME AS SOON AS I COULD'' it bellowed. Shaking the ground around them.

King? What, did Fenton make them refer to him as King? That felt weirdly out of character for what they had seen so far. 

“Frighty! You were just WAITING outside weren’t you!” Fenton yelled at the knight. The knight didn’t take his eyes off the two perceived threats. And picked up Fenton by the scruff of his coat.

“My King! I knew we couldn’t trust your safety with that pile of metal! Only I- FRIGHT KNIGHT, is worthy of protecting you! NOW YOU TWO. YOU ARE HEREBY GUIL--” the knight spoke and was cut off by Fenton. 

“We get it Frigty! Just.. Can you grab the Fright-bot and just take us home please… I told you this was a trial run to see how to improve him!” the child pleaded. The knight stared forward for a few moments before sighing and coming forward, yanking Oliver out of the Ice and flinging Roy and him out of the way. Then picking up the lifeless metal and carrying Fenton away through another swirling portal where it closed behind them seconds after they were out of sight. 

“Hey Arrow, what the FUCK was that?”

“A massive pain in the ass that keeps getting bigger”

[sugar-omi]

I came here to ask for Rockstar! Cove rambles and saw the Rockstar! Baxter art you reblogged omfg it's so good.

Please can we get some of your Rockstar! Cove (and/or Baxter if you feel like it) rambles 🙏

(Hope your holiday has been great 💖)

this is more. rockstar!cove backstory but YKW ITS FINE BC ITS BEEN WHATS ON MY MIND LATELY we'll have to talk abt him again bc this post was getting LONG especially w baxterrr

tags : SFW, headcanons, step 2-4, rockstar au, so ooc, bullying mentioned, fighting, baxter's tags are below before his hc's

listen....

im ngl. i want him to be maybe a little toxic. a lil crazy.

or into things he's not canonically into/does often

at least he's rough n impulsive at first

whenever he can get away with it, and before he got famous, he loves taking a long ride on his motorcycle

compared to when he was a young teen, he tries not to take drives when he's angry

bc when he was young, he'd put on some music and blast it as loud as it could go, and he'd drive and drive and drive...

ended up with a few warnings and speeding tickets that way because he'd get lost in riding n his thoughts n the music

but now that his life isn't so turbulent, he doesn't do that anymore

i wanna imagine he doesn't grow up with you next door n you didn't know each other until junior year of high school

he sees you n he's sold...

thinks you're so fucking beautiful/handsome and he sees you laughing n smiling w your friends n he's so, so whipped for you

he's still a sweet shy boy, so it takes forever for him to talk to you

n it's terry who introduced you two!!!

he's all flustered, bc you're even more lovely up close

n if you're all bubbly n extroverted, he thinks you're like sunshine

if you're more reserved, he thinks you're very cool or that it's amazing how calm you are all the time

if you're shy/easily flustered, will sometimes (and now that he's grown, always) mention out loud he thinks it's cute when you blush...

either way, just loves your personality n thinks you're amazing n cute

you actually calm him down. you ground him.

he used to get into fights kinda often.

i like to think rockstar!cove got like this bc his parents stayed together longer than they did, n there was no brilliant neighbor to reach out to him

he n his dad were still like oil n water, and the kids at school were less than friendly but usually didn't dare fuck with him

key word is usually.

just had a thought actually... cliff's family living nearby

not his parents. he moved as far as he could

and with him n Kyra on the brink of divorce, her moving out the house, n all cliff has to do to keep them afloat..

he didn't think his equally shitty cousins would be a problem.

but surprise!! they're a few doors down n too happy to "catch up"

cove n cliff avoid them pretty well, n cliff really didn't need to tell cove to avoid his cousins bc he was already 2 steps ahead of him

but his cousins dont get that message, they also think its a good idea to pick on cove...

so between the short patience of most hormonal 13 year olds, his parents (finally) separating, cove's intolerance for bullshit....

cove ends up rocking his 2 cousins shit when they snatch his glasses off his face, bending the frame

ignores his cousins mom yelling at him n cliff to apologize for hurting her kids. feels a bit warm when his dad tells her his son is more well mannered than both her kiss combined, even laughs when he says a rabid raccon has more sense n poise

but is even happier when his dad, after a moment of silence in the car, asks him if be used the right hook he taught him

n tries to hide his smile when his dad ruffles his hair n goes "that's good. good job son."

he does hear the whole, "violence isn't always the answer" and "pick your battles" thing

but he shrugs off the lecture when he and cliff have a tub of ice cream each n cliff holds a bag of peas to his face

anyway.

he fights like a DOG. he arGRHHH HE HAS EVERYTHIGN TAKEN CARE OF. TRUST.

professional at sneaking out n sneaking YOU out

cove at 4am: wanna get mcd's?

dont even bother saying no bc he's already outside

dont pretend to be sleep either bc he FUCKING SEES YOU.

will leave you alone if you genuinely don't wanna fuck around in the middle of the night, but how can you say no to him?

ah. before i forget

Will kiss you if you're bandaging his face

asks you to ice his bruises...

SINGS YOU SONGS N SHIT

kryptonite. creep. p!nk and lady gaga PERIOD. all of it

serenades you with his guitar and/or voice

sometimes he's just fiddling with the strings, switching between cheery beats and trying to rick roll you but the beat is wayyy off

loves when you fall asleep to his music too, plays the sleepiest tune he can think of

you being his biggest supporter is what makes him fight to make a name in the music industry

after supporting him in his personal life, through all his lows and highs, then supporting his music that he was too scared to go for

he puts his best foot forward for his sake and yours

+ TAGS: mention of FWB, toxic baxter <3, so ooc ofc, mm implied partying/drinking

now rockstar baxter....

i want him to be a problem. he's the toxic one here

compared to cove, who is soft n sweet but impulsive and always willing to fight, rough but well meaning...

baxter is your situationship

your friends with benefits

friends if a loose word, since you hardly ever talk since you've met and unless arguing, bickering, or sexting counts as getting to know each other...

than you're best friends!!!

he's the big headed musician who always asks "wyd" and "u up?" whenever he's in town

at least he sends you money to doll up or eat, or whatever before he gets in town

"make sure you eat before i come. bc im not letting you go once i get there"

so.... if you want commitment. he's not it...

just saw *this tweet, and rockstar!baxter IS the type to email you after you block him

omfg. if any of yall have read armin x reader fanfics... yk how he is in those fics? all toxic n shit?

thats baxter.

not THAT bad. like baby trapping bad or cheating on you, manipulating you etc.

but he's bad

definitely the dumb choice you make at 18-20 smth years old n once you mature, you drop him because he doesn't grow up quickly...

he won't even have the realization that you're the one until he's MINIMUM 37-40+ YEARS OLD. AND FLYS UP FROM THE BED LIKE HE'S SEEN A GHOST

curses n curses himself to high hell and low heaven

now depending on how bad he's fucked you over, or you've moved on, etc... he understands if you don't wanna try being together, bc he was a fucking mess

at least, if he sees you catching feelings or himself, he does break it off

but there's still good times between you!!

he sends you things for your birthday

and when he's not on tour showing his ass, he comes to spend it with you

is very happy if you come to spend his birthday with him!!!

starts to look forward to it, but he doesn't really show it

although after the first time, he can't help crying, thought the first time was just a one off thing

unless you make the first one a big thing, than he cries then

even if all you did was get/make a cake and decorate your small apartment, he's so so happy

mm i started thinking abt smth

i don't think he's that bad, impulsive, etc. before his career

before, he's pursuing music because his parents hate it. its "not a useful career" and "embarrassing"

but then he starts to love it, its an outlet for him and then it's become a passion

but once he gets a deal with a record label, it's just a downward spiral

puts everything into music, ignores everything else and doesn't take breaks like he should

i think what breaks your "relationship" is him getting caught up in the darker side of the music industry, and losing himself.

he doesn't laugh or anything like before

doesn't make random trips to see you anymore

in fact, probably ends up flaking on you or suddenly canceling, or going weeks without talking to you

its rough. and you two definitely need time apart for him to grow and realize that this is serving anyone besides the companies pockets well

[staryuee]

Lotus Rib Soup — Domestic Genshin Hcs ⸝⸝

— [warnings]. as always , not proofread and also written by sleep deprived me at 7am

— synopsis . . . some simple fluffy domestic headcanons

— characters . . . ayato , ayaka , zhongli , ningguang , xiao

— notes . . . these are just general domestic things i can imagine them doing :) not necessarily after marriage (but u can ofc interpret that they r!)

K. AYATO

— now if you thought he was clingy and overbearing before, be prepared for that to TRIPLE once you start living together

— you tell him constantly to ‘not go overboard’, but this is the head of the yashiro commission we’re talking about so of course he won’t listen

— he S P O I L S YOU , you simply gazed at some pretty jewellery on your walk today ? it’ll be sitting on your vanity desk the next morning, said you were craving some food ? he’s having it prepared right away

— now this man is a classic and dare i say traditional romantic, so you will get the sappy ‘breakfast in bed with a kiss on the forehead’ treatment every morning before he heads off to his duties

— every single day no matter how busy he is, he will give you a bouquet of flowers accompanied with some kisses, because hey who doesn’t enjoy some flowers (me, i have hayfever)

— before you he just let thoma clean up around the place, but now with you it feels rather intimate to him to complete some chores together , it just makes him happy

— overall 20/10 , wife husband material !!!

K. AYAKA

-- another one that completely spoils you rotten, but in a much more subtle way (at least she hopes because if she comes off as clingy she’ll probably hide herself from you until the next century)

— one thing she will absolutely never get tired of is hand holding , to the majority something like handholding is just a normal custom to any sort of relationship

— BUT !! to ayaka , it’s something that she finds to be a form of comfort, it makes her feel so much more comfortable and safe knowing that you won’t be leaving her any time soon

— what she loves even more than that is kisses, the passionate and chaste ones are always lovely and welcome however the ones she really prefers are the ones where you’re both laughing over something stupid - it makes everything seem so much more real to her

— she literally loves the random moments where you just twirl her around, it could be simply to give her a greeting or even a hug , but for some reason it makes her heart flutter

— your anniversaries would be so nicely organised and beautifully done , she’d probably plan months in advance because she just wants you to know that she loves you much more than she can show

— ayaka is very prone to loneliness, and having someone with her who she’s able to cherish and be so close with makes every hardship she faces worth it, every day when she’s done with her duties or even while she’s still performing them, she’s dreaming of being there with you

ZHONGLI

— this old ass man istg (affectionate)

— he will pester you SO much about your physical and mental well-being , always telling you, “ai ren, you’ll strain your eyes if you keep looking at those papers in the dark, come to bed,” OR ,”darling, i’m not sure venting your frustrations on some hilichurls will solve your problems, but im always free to listen.”

— now that he’s trying to live out his ‘mortal life’, he’ll definitely start appreciating and noticing minor details about you; whether that be your mannerisms, your tonal shifts, to your laugh or even your posture

— since he’s still technically an archon he just sorta ditched his job because he couldn’t be asked, he doesn’t necessarily need sleep BUT he absolutely adores the nightly routine you two have (once he finally coaxes you into going to bed that is)

— cooking is most certainly one of his favourite activities to do with you, not only is it enjoyable he gets to see you dance around the kitchen trying to find utensils and ingredients - honestly just looking at you doing anything makes him have the most love stricken expression on his face.

NINGGUANG

— now if you thought the kamisato siblings spoiled you, the tianqian takes that to the extreme

— if your gaze even lingers on an object for a second ningguang will have it in your possession in the next minute or so , ‘anything my dearest wants they’ll get’ that’s basically her motto

— she literally creates a room just for you in the jade chamber that she allowed you to decorate however you wished (most of the jade chamber has your touches added to it anyway)

— early mornings with ningguang don’t last long but they’ll always leave an impact on you both for the rest of the day , you’ll wake up with limbs tangled together and with your bodies pressed closed together, ningguang will give you special morning kisses to help boost your energy for the day but it honestly makes you just yearn for her more and distracts you

— she’s a rich and powerful chinese auntie ok, and she absolutely adores little kids she wants nothing more but for them to be happy and healthy - so when she sees you with kids her heart just simply explodes (crystallises? lol)

— “how can just a singular person be so precious and adorable … rex lapis thank you.”

— will ask about your thoughts on starting and raising a family, nothing too major of course maybe just one or two kids. anything you’re up for, she’s more than willing !

XIAO

— he’s been through way too much (especially after that new quest..) and being able to come to you and safely say “i’m home” genuinely makes him feel so loved and happy for once

— one thing he really enjoys while staying at home with you, is being cared for. you always reassure him that it’s just what he deserves, and your not doing any of this out of pity but out of love, and he absolutely knows that and cherishes that fact.

— wether it be back massages to relieve stress, cute little at home dates, intriguing conversations at three am as neither of you can fall asleep - xiao holds it all dear in his heart

— xiao doesn’t really have much of a morning ? i mean he doesn’t sleep and if you try to coerce him you’ll get turned down with the “i’m not mortal, i’ll be fine.” - but as soon as he says that line you respond back with the “but i’ll be so lonely without you” and he is dragging you to bed with you

— when you finally wake up together it’s the prettiest sight anyone could bear the witness of seeing, both of your bodies entangled together with xiao’s arms strongly hugging your waist in attempt to close the non existent gap between you

— he insists that this is all “useless” and that he’s waiting precious hours of the day, but with the loving way his eyes gaze at you ever morning and the way he tucks locks of your hair away from your face to look at you - it’s impossible to believe him

— your nighttimes are usually just spent with you coddling him and perhaps singing or humming a sweet melody to him

— kids are out of the question with him btw , buuutttt maybe if you begged enough times-

©IHEARTGANYU do not copy, steal or repost <3

[izukuisbaby]

Omg imagine being a pro hero as well and being married to Izuku 🥺🥺 I love that man so much

Imagine him being needy and missing his partner while they’re away for a mission 😭

⊹˚.⋆ PRO-HERO HUSBAND HEADCANONS - IZUKU MIDORIYA

℘. flora's notes : HOW COULD I NOT ANSWER THIS ? hello to u fellow izu simp 👀 sorry it took a while but I kept adding stuff- IM STARTING MY COURSE TODAY IM TERRIFIED

scheduled post im sleeping bro

℘. female, male and gn reader friendly ♡

℘. bonus : I'm ranting about the wedding planning 💀💀 I AM NOT POSTING AT PEAK HOURS, PLEASE REBLOG 🥲

m.list | comment or reblog if you enjoyed !

℘. i see pro hero izu as very buff, taller and much more confident with himself ! he works out a lot to keep up with the 1st pro hero lifestyle and he has jaw-dropping muscles (im gonna drool)

℘. and he loves to engulf you in his strong arms and give you a teddy bear hug ORRR have your back against his chest with his arms wrapped around you when you two are watching a movie on the couch

℘. he isn't home much, he has to maintain peace in Japan, you're worried and so is he about his hero work. he loves his job so so much, it's his dream. but sometimes he just wishes he could spend more time with you

℘. but you're a lucky babe ! his co-workers and friends Shoto and Katsuki force him to take breaks so that he can spend time with you. they are soooo understanding of your relationship and so supportive too !

℘. when izu told katsuki he was going to propose to you he went like :

"THAT'S MY BOY" and hit him in the back🥲 but that's his way of being supportive

℘. TAKES A DAY OFF EVERY WEEK FOR YOU and he will cook for you every single time ! izuku loves cooking so as soon as he gets the occasion he will make u a little something <3

℘. when izu has his lunch break, he makes a list of things he wants to watch and do with you, his favs are 8-10 episodes netflix series because he can binge-watch them on his free day with you in his arms

℘. officialized his relationship with you on socials quite quickly, he knew he was going to marry you. you are now the most liked tweet-

℘. he talks about you in interviews NO DOUBTS. he tries not to say too much, he likes his privacy but he has a bad habit of rambling and kind of spills more than he wishes to sometimes 🥲

℘. "i am so grateful to have a wife/husband like y/n. they are always so patient with me. i mean, dating a pro hero is obviously not easy but they're so supportive. i know i am making them go through a lot and i hate that they have to worry about me. i love them so much really, i wouldn't be here without them"

℘. SPENDS MONEY ON YOU. there's not a week where you don't have a bouquet of flowers, or a cute cake he saw at the bakery or something that he thought would like nice in your flat !

℘. he always gives you his card when you go shopping with your friends. HE LOOKS FORWARD TO YOUR HAULS and he loves seeing you in clothes he bought for you.

℘. BUT if you want to pay for your stuff he will 100% support you, he just doesn't know how to make you happy so he gives you everything he owns-

���. you're his #1 fan, he is so flattered to have an s/o that's so supportive. he always makes a little trip to the marketing wing of his agency to get you the upcoming products.

℘. the marketing team LOVES you, your reviews are always the best, they know you want the best merch for the best husband 😇

⊹˚.⋆ THE WEDDING PREPARATION (i got carried away so I had to make a whole separate part for this)

℘. shoto and katsuki had to reassure izu at least 20 times :

katsubabe : "they love you dumbass, can't you see it ? you've been together for like eternity and they put up with you every day, that is a great act of love"

sho : "i think that you should propose to then midoriya. don't doubt it, and if they say no my sister knows how to use tinder, I'll tell her to teach you"

katsubabe :"that's not what you're supposed to say half shit"

izu : "YOU'RE BOTH GONNA BE MY BEST MEN, I LOVE YOU GUYS"

℘. the whole wedding process caused izuku so much anxiety. he installed pinterest and made a board "wedding <3"

℘. he really really tried to handle it himself but he gave up, too much anxiety. you were tired of seeing him sacrifice his sleep for the wedding and hired a wedding planner instead 💀

℘. izu was relieved, he wanted it to be perfect and who can make it more perfect than a professional ?

℘. he wanted the wedding to be private, it was about 30 people and no media was allowed HOWEVER he posted the wedding pictures on his social media and broke the internet

℘. izu showing u off on socials 💥💳🥲🥲

© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)💓

[danikamariewrites]

believe me when i say that your blog is AWESOME, AMAZING, im in love with your writing, i think it's the most beautiful thing in the world and i want to say thank you for sharing your talent with us. if i could marry one of your fanfics, i would do it without hesitation. 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 .now that i said my thoughts about your amazing blog, i have a request... MODERN rowaelin x reader.

🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ (fancy clothes, expensive phones, cars...) i would LOVE to see a fanfic of them in the modern world with reader🧎🏻‍♀️😫 .

no pressure, take your time, stay safe, eat healthy, sleep well, and drink water 🫂💜

Modern!Rowaelin x reader headcanon

A/n: thank you! That’s so nice of you to say and I’m so happy you like my writing (trying to make it my career if Hollywood can get its shit together lol). I love this concept, it’s amazing and I had to write it bc Aelin would thrive as modern day princess/queen.

Sending you love bestie ❤️

Warnings: none

Modern!Rowaelin would be a fucking power couple (and with you a power trio)

Let’s say for this hc that Aelin and Rowan are just a rich couple that come from old money. I’m talking old New England money but they give it a new look bc Aelin likes new stuff, Rowan is like the antique collector in the relationship

When you met they were shopping for art at the gallery you worked at

You had just graduated college a year or so ago and this was your entry level job in the art world. You were actually very familiar with the pieces the gallery sold and you have an insane memory for art history

Aelin and Rowan came in to buy a few pieces for their new apartment in the city so you showed them a few pieces since the owner was busy

The three of you hit it off and they offered to take you out to dinner once you finished with work

You met them at the five-star restaurant that was in their building and that’s when they asked you out. “We knew once we met you we had a connection. If you don’t feel the same way please feel free to reject us and we can pretend this never happened.” Aelin said

But you had felt an instant connection with them too. You felt safe and at home around them. You knew you needed to be with them

After that night you moved in with them and they talked you into quitting your job and working for their clients as an art collector

It was like a dream come true

Aelin and Rowan spoiled you with love, attention, and gifts

You weren’t always a material person, you grew up getting things you asked for that were within your family’s budget but this was a whole other level

After a year of being with them they gave you a credit card, “unlimited spending baby. Anything you want it’s your.” Rowan said kissing you on the cheek

Shopping sprees with Aelin were the best! Those were your bonding trips and when you truly got to know each other. You talked about everything while wandering the aisles of high end department stores, trying on shoes and clothes

Lingerie shopping was the most fun since you would pick out pieces that would drive him crazy (and each other)

There may have been a time or two where you both couldn’t keep your hands to yourself in the changing room

With Rowan your bonding time was going on walks or runs or him teaching you how to work out at the gym

When you were out in nature with him that’s when you saw him most relaxed (besides at home)

Your yearly summer vacation is always to Cape Cod

Both their families have beach houses there but they wanted their own in a different area, so they bought one just before they met you

The house is huge and you obviously use it more than once a year but you always had those set 2 weeks in July that you would go

No work. No distractions. Just the 3 of you, the beach, and fun times

You and Aelin of course demand the best lobster rolls which Rowan gets for you

Ice cream every night after dinner

And they buy you all the souvenirs you want

Two days before you were set to leave, you and Rowan were packing. You folded he put away (he’d never admit it but he’s awful at folding clothes but he tries)

Aelin came running into the bedroom with a shit eating grin on her face that told you two she wanted something, “Row, y/n/n.” “Yes Aelin.” You responded in unison

“I just realized we need something for the Cape house that we don’t have.” Rowan rolled his eyes, “And what would that be, Fireheart?”

“We don’t have a Jeep!” You and Rowan shared a look. “Ok A, so what do you suggest?” Aelin clapped her hands together in excitement “We’re going to get one obviously.” “Right now!?” “Yes Rowan. Come on you’re driving.”

She rushed back out of the room and you followed her as Rowan let out an exasperated sigh, tilting his head back

45 minutes later you were all sitting in the Jeep dealership

Not only did you leave with a Jeep wrangler, but she also managed to find a beautiful jet black convertible Audi

Aelin insisted you bring both to Cape Cod and of course Rowan gave in to her

[starlightandsouls]

im not sure if your taking requests but maybe you could do a really cute story where the reader is a suuuuper shy and tiny person and az is like her protector and does all the talking for her. thank you and i love your writing

A/N: Anon thank you so much for your request! It's so so cute! Sorry it took me to long and that it's really not that long. Also I've written it as a one shot of one of my other fics "Yours To Keep And Cherish" Hope you don't mind. I hope you like it! It'll all i could come up with rn

Yours To Keep And Cherish: Part 1 Part 2

Bookshop Brawls

The past few months had been the best you’ve had your entire life. The dinner with the Inner Circle had given you a small family of your own, and they claimed to see you as nothing less than that; their own.

Nesta had become one of your closest friends. The oldest Archeron shared your love for books and you owning a bookshop opened the gate to a wondrous friendship. You had always wanted a sister and now had one in the form of your boyfriend’s sister in law. The two of you had spent hours locked up in your shop. When customers were slow in coming, the two of you would retreat to the back and ramble about the latest romance the two of you had read. Countless times had Cassian and Azriel found the two of you asleep on a pile of books. Neither of them minded though. Both of you were were not the most social people and your respective boyfriends were just happy that you were getting along well.

Especially Azriel. He knew that his nightingale was not the most outspoken person, much like himself. Sure she laid her heart out to him whenever they were together and was the sweetest, most amicable person he had had the pleasure of meeting. But with strangers or people she did know that well, she was always a bit reserved, always keeping her heart, her thoughts just out of reach. Sure she had her friend Lexie, but she was the complete opposite of his girlfriend, a social butterfly. Lexie loved partaking in activities and events that had the most amount of people, frequenting the biggest clubs and bars that Velaris offered. His nightingale would always prefer staying home, reading to her heart’s content. It had always worried him. Sure he would spend as much time with her whenever he was in Velaris. But his job was demanding, often taking him to other courts for extended periods of time. Then, his mind would always be wracked with worry about his nightingale, fearing she might be feeling too alone in his absence. Now he was just happy that she had someone to take care of her when he was gone.

Today, however, he had you all to himself. He had just returned from Summer Court from a routine check with Tarquin and was practically jumping at the idea of going back to you. These excursions, while not serious or threatening in any manner, were always stretched out longer than needed and exhausted him to no extent. Plus he had to report back to Rhysand as well and share all the details of his visit. In all honesty, he could have done that later as well. His brother would never protest to him getting some down time after work. His brothers were always adamant he worked too much. What could he say? He was a perfectionist.

Regardless, he went to see Rhysand beforehand, if only to get done with the task and be able to spend as much time with you as possible. He had practically been bouncing on his toes the entire meeting, too eager to meet you at your bookshop. A fact that Rhysand noted with that aggravating smirk of his,

“Excited are we brother? If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you were getting sick of our company,” Rhysand said.

Azriel only flipped him off and started to leave, knowing his brother was merely joking. And he was. Rhysand was truly and honestly happy for Azriel. Happy that he had found someone who loved him as irrevocably and completely as he deserved. But as his brother, it was Rhysand’s solemn duty to tease him about it. How else were they to prove their brotherhood?

Azriel had leaped out the window as soon as he exited Rhysand’s office. The fresh spring air beneath his wings lifted off of him all burdens of exhaustion he had been carrying. Flying always did that to him. It calmed him, set his mind straight. All the stress practically melted away whenever he was in the clouds. And the thought of flying to go see you, only accentuated the feeling.

The sight of your bookshop made him smile. It was one of the most meticulously designed buildings in the Rainbow, despite the fact the fact that it was not as huge or glamorous as some. An architectural gem stone hidden in the most bustling centre of Velaris. The stone columns with sculptured intricacies, the stained glass windows, all made the store look like something ripped from a fairy tale. And that was truly what it was to him. A haven, a place of magic; for it was here that the Mother had decided to bless him with you, his saving grace, his own guardian angel who had saved from the ruination that was himself. It was his temple, his holy shrine. He would worship every brick if he could for the rest of his life. And it would still never be enough to express how truly grateful he was for you.

Walking in, he was immediately greeted by the mouth watering aroma of your croissants. It was another quirk of yours that never failed to make him beam at your thoughtfulness; how you always strived to help others out, from fantasy books to food.

You were immersed in a huge pile of books and an even bigger pile of papers. Countless times had he told you to hire an assistant, someone to help you out with your work but you had always refused, not wanting a stranger to infringe in your space. Like him, you were a huge introvert. While you were always fond of making new friends and loved spending time with his family, he also knew that you needed some time to yourself. Just like for him, the bookshop was your haven as well, a place where it was just you and your books, a place where could earnestly let down your guard and relax. So even if it meant a little more work, you never seemed to mind and Azriel always helped whenever he could with shelving and listing and whatever you asked of him.

As always he walked in on you surrounded by books you were stacking on shelves, or at least attempting to. The slight furrow in your borrow indicated that you were troubled by something, and at the same time it made you look even more adorable. How love changes a person. Could any stranger imagine the Night Court’s Spymaster, torture extraordinaire, to be so completely consumed by his affection for you? They would surely be deemed mad by everyone else.

“What’s got my love so worried?” Azriel asked, walking behind you and wrapping his arms around you. The fact that you leaned into his touch immediately, as if a sixth sense, without any fear or hesitation, made him fall even more for you. Every day he thought that notion impossible and everyday you proved him wrong.

“Nothing much Az. I just ordered some books for next month’s stock and they haven’t arrived. They’re usually here before the month ends,” you replied, still caught up in your list.

“Hmm. Would you like me to go scare your supplier? Surely he deserves some trouble for bothering my nightingale,” he joked.

At that, he was graced by the melodious sound of your laugh and an even sweeter smile; a sight so beautiful that it rendered the stars dull in comparison. You turned in his arms then, arms moving to their place around his neck,

“Azriel, darling. Why would you put that poor man through all that? I’m sure there’s a valid reason for the hold up.”

He only shrugged, indicating he was only half joking with his offer. You didn’t say anything in return. Instead, you only smiled that damning smile of yours and gazed back at him. It always made him nervous when you did that; when you looked at him like he was the only thing in the world, your gaze laced with such irreverence as if you had seen an angel of your own. It made him nervous because deep down he knew he didn’t deserve someone who loved him so completely like you did.

“What is it darling?” he asked after a moment of silence, the emotion bubbling up in him because of your love filled gaze enough to make him cry, and they couldn’t have that now could they.

You only shook your head at him and buried yourself in his arms, grip tightening around him. For a second, he panicked. Had something happened? Regardless, he hugged you back just as tight.

“Nightingale. Hey, is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my love. I just missed you a lot,” you whispered softly.

“I missed you too darling. More than you can imagine. But I’m done with all my work. And I have absolutely nothing to do for the next few weeks. So I am completely at your service my lady,” he said, hand lifting to push a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. He didn’t miss how you instinctively leaned into his hand. How you took it into your own and kissed his hand, intertwined in yours. At that moment Azriel almost fell to his knees before you, ready to repent and confess to this goddess he was blessed enough to call his lover, and to the Mother to thank her for this gift that he would be eternally grateful for.

“Well, just give me one more hour. I’ll finish everything up here and then we can go home,” you replied. He nodded and leaned forward to kiss your forehead, then both your eyes and lastly those honey lips of yours that always had him craving a second taste. Lust or gluttony, he cared not.

You had sent him to read at the sofas lining the bookstore, knowing he would be too much of distraction to get any work done, and then you would have to stay here for much longer than you wanted.

It had not been twenty minutes that you had sent Azriel to the back when the door bell rang, indicating a customer. You sighed, just having gotten to the bulk of your work, and not wanting to drag yourself away from it. Nonetheless, you walked to your reception, and instantly wished you had stayed behind.

For before you was no customer. No. Your shop had the unfortunate luck to be graced by the presence of Archer Flynn, Lexie’s ex-boyfriend. The man was of average height, yet still carried himself with the ego of a war hero, and he had the ego of one as well, but no other commendable characteristics. He was the text book definition of toxic, male masculinity. Pride and arrogance oozed from his very presence. The worst bit being that he had no appearances to back up that pride. Limp, dirty blonde hair with eyes so shrunk in, that it seemed like someone had shoved eyes two sizes too small into an unusually large skeleton. Lanky limbs and gigantic ears, all made him look like a character from one of the children’s books she had, and it wasn’t a very good one either. But she had never pointed it out to Lexie, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Although she would never understand what her gorgeous best friend had seen in this cartoon. Come to think about it, Lexie had lost her job when she started dating Archer. Perhaps he was no more than a mid life crisis. Most couples are, but not her. Her and Azriel were the exception. And perhaps it was the two of them that had made Lexie realise that there really was someone better out there, someone who could love her like Azriel loved you. You were just happy that Lexie had gotten over this loser. The same, apparently, could not be said for Archer.

“Why are you here Archer?” you demanded, getting straight to the point. Small talk sucked the soul out of you, and with Archer it was even worse. He always gave you the ick, and you had always distanced yourself from him because of it. Something about the man never quite sat right with you.

“Where is Lexie?” he shot right back. Well at least both of them were on the same page about getting straight to the point.

“What’s it to you? Last time I checked you broke up two months ago. And I also know she does not want to see you, so I really don’t understand why you’re here,” you said, hoping you sounded at least a little assertive. You were never a people person, and such confrontations always made you nervous.

“I’m sure you were the one who convinced her to break up didn’t you? Filled her head up with all those lies and stupid ideas. You were just jealous of us weren’t you? All day locked up in this stupid shop of yours, no one to love or ask after you. You were just jealous of how good Lexie and I had it.”

“Really? You see what I don’t understand is why you can’t stop interfering in our lives. Minding your own business isn’t really hard, sugar.” You shivered at the nickname, it wasn’t vulgar per se, but something about it coming from Archer made it sound disgusting. The man continued without waiting for an answer.

“Trust me, Archer. No girl in this world would do anything but thank the Mother it wasn’t them dating you after seeing you with a girl. You’re just that pathetic. And I’m glad that Lexie saw sense as well, before it was too late. Now get out of my shop and don’t bother showing up here again,” you barked at him and turned to leave the counter when you were suddenly pulled back.

You let out a cry from the harsh grip Archer now had around your forearm. Trying to yank yourself free from his grasp wasn’t that easy, guess he wasn’t that lanky after all.

“Listen here bitch, what me and my girlfriend do is none of your fucking business. No one asked for your stupid opinions alright? So quit yapping about them and tell me where Lexie is? Or else i know a lot of ways to make a woman like you sing," he spat at you, grasp tightening with every word to the point that you were sure ugly bruises would be lacing your arm where he had grabbed you. This. This was why you didn’t like this man. Because you had seen the monster that lied in wait below his facade from the first day you had met him. Gods had you tried to warn Lexie about it. And now Lexie was all the way over at Dawn Court, visiting family, while you were here cleaning up her mess. The things you do for friends.

“Archer, let go of me. You’re hurting me. Let me go!”

Then his hand was being ripped away from your arm, and you were pushed behind a tall, shadowed back. Azriel. Caught up first in your work and then Archer’s tantrum, you had almost forgotten he was still here. And you couldn’t express how glad you were that he was. You didn’t even want to imagine how far Archer would go to get what he wanted. Before you could ponder on this some more, you heard a sickening crunch and Archer was on the ground, cradling his nose as blood flowed freely from it. Azriel picked him up and punched him again, this time in the stomach,

“How dare you lay a hand on her?” Azriel seethed. The man before you now was not your lover, nor the man who loved tea and books and afternoon naps. No. This was the Shadowsinger, the Night Court’s Spymaster, a man feared across all seven courts. And he had murder in his eyes. He had Archer shoved against the wall with a death grip around his neck, surely to choke the man to death.

You were not frightened of Azriel, or of what he could do. And you would never be. Yet you still intervened, not wanting him to hurt someone else on your behalf, not believing yourself to be worth that much.

“Azriel.”

You had uttered one word and he had stopped. Letting Archer fall to the floor but not before kicking him once more in his gut. You rushed to him then, needing to calm him down,

“Az, it’s alright. I’m okay.”

But Azriel had his sights set on Archer,

“He hurt you. He threatened you,” Azriel growled out, moving forward again to the bleeding man. But you jumped across him to stop his path,

“I know and you made him pay for it. And it’s enough Azriel. I’m fine, truly.”

Azriel remained where he was, to get his breathing in control or his anger, she did not know. She only put her hand around his arm, and leaned into him, wanting to ground him,

“Azriel, my love. Look at me. I am alright. Truly. And I’m sure this scum bag has leant his lesson as well.”

Azriel sighed, defeated. You didn’t need to hear it to know that he would heed your words. While you could tell that he would not beat up Archer anymore, you could also tell that he wasn’t quite done yet.

He walked over to the man quivering on the floor and shoved him against the door. Azriel’s grip on his collar lifting him from the floor so that Archer dangled at the door like a headless chicken, which against Azriel he was,

“If you ever come close to my girlfriend again, if you ever even think about her, I swear to the Mother I’ll make sure your death lasts a thousand nights. And believe me, I also know a lot of ways to make a man regret ever being born. You will not bother her or her friend again. And if I ever hear that you treated another woman like you did my nightingale... well then your family will be finding pieces of you all across the city. Am I understood?”

Archer only nodded like the pathetic fool that he was and when Azriel let go of him, scrambled out the shop, stumbling multiple times before he got the door open.

As soon as he was out, Azriel turned to you, gently grabbing your arm for inspection. Huh. Guess it wasn’t as bad as you had thought. There were no bruises, just some redness from the grip that you’ll disappear in a few minutes.

“I’m so sorry love. I should have moved sooner. I never should have let him put his filthy hands on you...” Azriel started rambling. And it broke your heart a little, to see your love blame himself for this.

“Azriel it wasn’t your fault. That guy was just an asshole. And thank you actually. I think you scared him really bad. I don’t think he’ll be bothering us any time soon again,” you reassured him.

Later while you sat on his lap in the back sofas, cleaning the asshole’s blood from Azriel’s hands, he had said to you,

“You don’t have to do this darling. I can go do it myself..”

“I don’t mind,” you had shrugged, too focused on his hands, and you truly didn’t.

“I’m serious nightingale. I... I shouldn’t have lost control like that in front of you I should have...”

“You did what you should have. You were defending me and I cannot begin to tell you how thankful I am for it. I’m not some glass doll that’ll shatter at the sight of some blood. And you’re not that good at hiding your thoughts Azriel. If you think even for a second, that i got scared of you, you are wrong,” you said, putting your hands around his face. He opened his mouth to protest but you continued before he could do so,

��Don’t even try to lie. I can see it in your eyes. Azriel, listen to me; there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that you can ever do that’ll ever make me scared of you. I’m not afraid of you Azriel and I’ll never be. You want to know why? Because I love you and I trust you. Because the Cauldron gave you to me as a blessing that I’ll cherish forever, my own guardian angel.”

Azriel had then taken you home and made love to you under the stars to show you just how utterly devoted he was to you, how he would worship you for all eternity if he could. Unbeknownst to you, he had also sent some of his shadows to Archer Flynn, to further teach him a lesson. Like you had said; Azriel was your guardian angel. That asshole had hurt his nightingale, and he couldn’t have that now could he?

..............................................................................................

Taglist: @mooncleaver @cheshmetkoshgele @elegantranchcowboytree

[strangerthingsn]

Bruised

part 3

summary: You live in your car or a hotel, you sell your body to men for money, but got accidentally pregnant by the only one Alan Munson(Eddies dad). He was in jail before, for the same thing he did to you. But lucky he has a son who cares and helps you out.

warnings:18+ (all parts), sex, getting caught, love, pet names, language, alcohol, smoking, pregnancy

”come, let’s go home” Eddie look down at you with soft eyes, you could see them because of the bright moon light.

“That guy is a asshole” you huff and look at your feet.

“tell me about it..” Eddie sighs and sits next to you.

“what do you mean?” You look at him again.

“he used to bully me and the guys back in high school, like spit in our lunch, put things on our lockers, bumb us against the lockers and he even stole things”

“I’m sorry for that Eds” you lay your head on his shoulder, you’re exhausted.

“You’re tired aren’t you?”

“mhm..”you nod.

“I’ll walk you to the van already then I’ll get the boys” he gets up and helps you after, you both walk to the van and you wait there for him to come back with the others.

—2 days later—

“so why you think you can work hire?” The boss of the coffee shop asks.

“I’m very friendly to people, I’m really patient and I can handle mad people” you nod agreeing with yourself.

“hmm… alright tomorrow wil be your first work day” he said. “What’s your size?”

“normally a medium but it will be a couple sizes bigger because of the baby”

“uhh.. let me look for you” he gets up from the chair and walks somewhere. You sit in the little office, you can’t belive you just got a proper job.

.

“got the biggest one” The man gives it to you, it was not the most ugly outfit. You take it and get up.

“I’ll pay you some more for the baby then, deal?”

“deal” you nod and shake his hand.

“see you tomorrow” he smiles.

“bye bye!” You wave and walk out of the building, heading to Eddies van. You get in meeting Eddies exited face.

“and?” He says.

“I got a job!” You smiles.

“I told you, congratulations” Eddie smiles. “I got something else while you were gone”

“Thanks and what is that?”

“this….” Eddie pulls his shirt up showing nipple rings.

“no fucking way” you gasp “I just know that hurts so much dude, they suite you tho” you look at it.

“Yeah? You like it?” He puts his shirt down.

“Love it” you nod.

“Don’t tell my uncle tho” He chuckles while starting the van.

“You think he’ll be mad?” You look at him still.

“possible” he nods.

“Ill keep my mouth shut” You and Eddies relationship what’s difficult, sometimes he calls you sweetheart or other things but he also said you’re like a sister to him, you didn’t have sex since that night, ofcourse you wanted to, he was the best you had but you two were just busy.

“I can’t wait for Christmas” you say looking at the road.

“You like Christmas?”

“It gives me happy memories with my parents, we used to go to the mall to eat stuff and that same night we’d have dinner together and unpack presents” you smile thinking about the memories.

“You miss that.?”

“I miss it really much” you nod.

“Im sorry, i miss Christmas with my mom too, Alan would never give me presents but my mom always gave us something little”

“I hope i can afford a big present every year for the little one”

“A little thing is okay too, it’s just.. the little things mean the most” Eddie shows a ring on his necklace.

“Your mom gave it to you?”

“Yes but it doesn’t fit anymore” he looks at it.

“I bet your mom was a nice and gorgeous woman” you smile.

“she was” he nods, you sat in silence in the car when you suddenly spot something.

“should we get a Christmas three?” You smile.

“I don’t really have money for that right he now, I’m sorry..”

“o thats fine, sorry for asking”

“You don’t have to be sorry” He smiles and kisses your hand.

— 2 hours later —

You hum while cooking dinner and suddenly two arms wrap around your hip.

“hey Eddie” you smile. “are you nervous?”

“yes, I can’t play it right I’m fucking it up all the time” he sighs. Corroded coffin has a Christmas gig somewhere at a bar tomorrow and Eddie is atleast an hour in his room busy with practicing.

“You gonna be great” you smile.

“Yes thank you but I’ll finish dinner you can take a bath”

“okay” you kiss his cheek and walk over to the bathroom.

.

After you took a bath you put bodylotion all over your body, you just shaved (this was probably the last time you could reach because of the babybumb) hoping you could make some love to Eddie tonight. After you did you put on your pjs Eddie got matching ones for you and him that looked so adorable. You walk out of the bathroom to the kitchen again Eddie puts dinner on the table, Wayne is on a date with some woman so you and Eddie eat alone.

“you smell good” Eddie smiles while sitting down and you sit down too.

“thank you Eds” you smile and start eating.

“you have a very gorgeous smile you know that?”

“you have too, your smile makes me happy” you tell.

“Really?” He blushes a little.

“reaaaally” you nod.

“how nice of you” he eats too.

—after dinner—

You walks outside to Eddie and he’s smoking on a wooden chair. You sit on the one next to him and you watch him smoke when suddenly that terrible smell hits.

“ew.. weed?” You chuckle.

“mhmmm” he lays his hand on your leg.

“You smoke weed often, hm?” You just say it in a flirty way.

“Yeah” he nods “it’s chill”

“Every day?”

“mostly yes, twice a day” he nods circling his finger over your leg. You bit your lip looking at him.

“having plans for tonight?”

“And why are you asking?” He smirks.

“just interested” you smirk back. He nods looking down while thinking for a second, you didn’t look away and when he looks up again you had eye contact.

“fuck it” he mumbles and pulls you in for a kiss. Your heart was racing ofcourse it’s not the first time but still, you love him. He kisses softly but with a combination of needy. He lays his hand in your neck pulling you in even closer. You kiss him deeper and more personally. Eddie pulls away and looks at you.

“go inside it’s cold” he smirks.

“I guess I just wait in your room then” you wink while getting up.

“Oh yeah?” He smirks.

.

When he closes the door he immediately pushes you against it kissing you rough and hard. He pushes his boner against your thighs.

“mmmh, so gorgeous” Eddie rubs your belly and continues with kissing your neck. You look up to make that more easy for him to do. He pulls away and takes his shirt off and wanted to continue but you were quickly enough to kiss his neck. He puts his hand under your shirt unclipping your bra already.

He takes it off and throws it somewhere in the room. Now his hands were on your boobs squeezing and rubbing them slowly, it hand my moaning against his neck every time he touches your sensitive nipples. You suck a couple bruises in his neck, some where darker then the others but the looked hot.

“let me..” Eddie grabs the hem of your shirt and you help him with taking it off. “God..” he picks you up after admiring your beautiful body and gently lays you down on his bed. He kisses your boobs and up to your neck leaving hickeys all over your chest and neck.

“need you” you whisper while playing with his hair.

“i know…” Eddie starts taking his jeans off and your sweatpants. You wore your prettiest pair of panties and he smirks while seeing them. “I love these” he kisses your belly. “Look how wet you are”

“For you..” you silently say.

“Im hard for you.” He smirks taking off his boxers and taking himself in his hand.

“i see, such a big cock Eddie” you say biting your lip. Eddie seems to not expect those words coming out of your mouth.

“that was so hot.” He bites his bottom lip and grabs your panties. “Gonna make love to your perfect body, doll” Eddie says while going with a finger through your folds.

“n-no” you stutter after a moan leaves your mouth.

“don’t want me to.?”

“your dick Eddie..” you whine.

“I’m not really a big fan of just-… pushing inside I’m scared to hurt you baby” he strokes himself.

“please” you take his hand.

“Okay…” He jerks himself up a couple times and lines up and after that he slowly pushes through you soaking hole. “What pose baby?”

“L-lay..” you moan when he’s still trying to push his cock inside of you. “Hire..” you say out of breath.

“you want to ride me?” He looks confused.

“n-no” you groan.

“okay…” Eddie carefully lays infrond of you still having his big cock halfway inside of you. “Like this.?”

“y-yeah” you nod with your eyes closed and you lay your leg over his hip. Eddie seems to understand what you were trying and he lays a hand on your back and pulls you closer.

“You feel so wet and warm” he whispers while he starts slowly thrusting in and out of you, when he’s inside he doesn’t even go halfway he doesn’t wanna hurt you. The sound of his moans and your soft whimpers together turn you on so bad.

“Touch you.?” You ask silently.

“O-ofcourse” he takes your hand and lays it on his hip, you didn’t notice the tattoos last time, he has a skull, spider, snake and a dragon on his chest, stars, roses, bats, another dragon, Iron Maiden, guitar, tiger, and much more on his arms. They all fit him so well, you go with your hands slowly over his body and tattoos. You look further down at a tattoo on his belly with the text, suck it. You look back up at his face again and he was already looking at you. He had a hand on your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss. It was messy with teeth and tongues together.

Eddie slides a hand down and lays it on your ass to move your hips with the rhymn of his, the string in your belly is about to snap already. He squeezes your ass and kisses your throat, that sends you over the edge and has you spilling your load all over his dick.

“Good girl-… g-gona… fuck-“ he cums inside of you. You moan and sit up taking his dick out of you carefully.

“W-what are you gonna do.?” Eddie looks at you with half lidden eyes.

“relax” you whisper while grabbing his cock and stroking him, he let out a groan and he started to become hard again. You start to jerk of he buckles his hips up and starts fucking your fist. “Be patient” you giggle and you slowly push his hips back down.

“S-so good baby.. so g-good fme” he mumbles. You slowly bend over and take his tip in your mouth, he absolutely didn’t want expected that from you, he buckled his hips up again and you pull away.

“Sorry, you don’t want it.?” You look at him while taking your hands off him. He takes your hand calming you down.

“hey, its fine not gonna hurt you remember? And yes I would love a blow job from you.” He kisses your hand and lay back down.

“Thank you..” you whisper before kissing his tip again. You never felt so safe around a dude, you believe Eddie is the one for you. Taking his tip in your mouth had Eddie moaning your name, that was definitely the most sexiest thing you ever heard.

Eddie lays a hand on your ass and looks at you sucking his dick. You pull away kissing down to his balls and you take one in your mouth sucking on it while jerking him off.

“holy-“ he moans. You take the other one in your mouth now still jerking him off, you use your tongue while sucking. Then you slowly kiss up to his tip and now you take more length in your mout bobbing your head up and down. Eddie looks at your lips wrapped around his hard cock. He wishes he could keep looking but his eyes keep falling shut.

You take more and more of him until he hits the back of your throat. You continue taking him further but you couldn’t help but gag. That eventually send Eddie over the edge and he loads his cum down your throat. Eddie had kind of zoned out so you sit back on your knees and start fingering yourself slowly. That’s what you always do while giving man a blowjob or after it.

“don’t touch yourself.” Eddie his arms came your way and you were quick enough to look away waiting for the hit and hurt that never came. You slowly look back at him and he looks at you with big eyes. “I’m sorry… fuck…fuck” he sits up and pulls you on his lap carefully. He rubs your back, kisses your head and kinda treats you like a baby. “I keep scaring you and I hate it.”

“its fine” you say softly, you are safe on his lap and he’s actually comforting you.

“no its not baby...” it was silent for a moment.

“I love you” you whisper.

“hm?” Eddie wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly.

“love you..” you say shyly. Eddies heart is racing and he puts a finger under his chin and make him look up at you.

“I love you back.” He smiles and kisses you softy.

—later that night—

“You look so hot while you riding me” he groans. You and Eddie are having sex for god knows how long. It just keeps going because after every round you look each other in the eyes and start making out again and you know how it ends up. You had five round and six organisms. You tried so many poses but there are also so much to still try.

“I love you” you lean down at kiss him again he kisses back while playing with your nipples.

“does it still feel good for you.?” He had ask that already a few times he just want to make sure you were okay.

“s-so good” you nod leaning up again bouncing harder on his cock, your big tits are bouncing and Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off them. He leans up to kiss them and….

“hey Eddie i-…” Wayne walks in… his eyes staring at the two of you Eddie quickly wraps the blanket around you and he gets up putting his boxers on.

“We need to talk.” He walks back into the living room slamming the door shut. It was completely silent in the room, Eddie is putting his clothes on and he walks out. You sit nervously on the bed thinking he was mad at you but not much later he walks back into the room with a towel.

“sorry” he mumbles while pulling the blanket off you and cleaning you up really carefully taking the time for it.

“Im sorry too” you whisper while you look at him. He gives you a kiss on your cheek and gives you fresh panties and your pyjamas back. You smile a little and put it on.

“don’t worry I’ll talk for us” he takes your hand and walks to the living room, you just follow him like a lost puppy. You both sit down on the couch in silence.

“so what is this Edward?” Wayne looks at him.

“like you saw. We were having sex”

“are you paying her for it?” He asks.

“no, we are in love.. atleast im really in love with her.” You couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

“If you don’t stop this you need to get out in a week.” Wayne looks mad.

“Okay sir, I’m sorry.” You look down at your feet and Eddie rubs your back.

“are you serious Wayne?” Eddie looks mad too now.

“Good night.” Wayne gets up and walks into his bedroom.

“asshole” Eddie mumbles and huffs while Wayne closed the door.

“I understand him, I mean… I’m a slut”

“you aren’t, you were and it was not even really your fault” he kisses your head and gets up walking to the kitchen. “water?”

“oh uh, yes” you nod, was this a good idea? Maybe you should just go already, you don’t want cause any problems between Eddie and Wayne.

“What’s going around in that pretty head of yours” he kisses your head and gives your water.

“Do you really love me?” You look up at him taking take glass.

“really.” He nods sitting down next to you.

“then I have to get out in a week” you lay your head on his shoulder.

“no you don’t, if you do, I’ll go with you” he starts rubbing your side.

“maybe we can buy our own trailer when I work really hard for it”

“first you gonna buy baby stuff” Eddie smiles.

“Right” you nod taking a sip of your water and putting it back on the table, Eddie smiles and kissses the side of your face multiple times.

“Eddie stop” you giggle “it tickles”

“come hire” he picks you up and walks over to his room. “Don’t wanna be tired on your first work day”

“You’re right” you give him a little pec.

“that’s what i thought” he nods and lays you down on your side putting the blanket over you.

“stop kicking, silly” you smile looking down at your baby bumb. Eddie takes your pants off and you’re sleeping in the shirt. “Thank you”

“don’t thank me sweetheart” Eddie turns the light off and lays down next to you. You turn around with a smirk. “Oh no” Eddie chuckles.

“No I was just thinking.. you should get a coffee tomorrow” you look at him.

“I will, when me and the boys are practicing in the morning we’ll get a coffee, alright?” He kisses your forehead.

“thanks” you cuddle him and he cuddles back. “Do you have a boner?”

“I hoped you didn’t notice”

“I would do something about it but your uncle will kill me”

“I can’t be silent… as you know so probably not a good idea” he chuckles.

—the next morning—

Eddie cooked breakfast for you and Wayne, you ate together in silence, when you showered and were dressed up in your work uniform Eddie laughed at you. The two of you kissed goodbye (secretly) and there you were.. at your work.

“oh hey you must be new girl?” A girl with short blond hair asks randomly.

“Am I late?” You smile.

“no, don’t worry, I’m Jade” she leads you the way to the back and explains how you need to make to coffees with the first couple of customers. She was really friendly.

.

“you think you can do it alone now?”

“I guess” you chuckle.

“good luck, I’ll be right next to you take other orders so if you need help I’m hire” she smiles.

“thanks” you nod, you turn your head to a customer that walks into the shop.

“good morning, what can I get for you?”

“hey, I’ll just get a coffee with caramel” She says.

“Small, medium or large?”

“medium”

“And just the regular milk?” You look at her.

“yes please.”

“Okay, was that everything?”

“uhh can i have a cookie too?”

“the chocolate, vanilla or red velvet?” You look at the ones she’s pointing at.

“Just the vanilla, and that was everything”

“okay, that is…7,70 dollar” you look at her, she nods giving the money. You count it and put it in the cash desk.

“okay you have order numberrr… 17 well let you notice if its done.” You smile giving her the receipt. She takes it with a smile.

“thanks” she walks off and sits down. You grab a cup making the coffee ready.

“you did great” Jade smiles.

“you think so?”

“I know so.” She nods making her own order ready. You mix the caramel and milk through the coffee and up the lid from the cup on it and you add a straw. You walk to the cookies and you get the vanilla one putting it in a bag.

“order number 17?” You look around.

“yes thank you” the woman takes it.

“have a nice day”

“same for you” you smile.

—2 hours later —

You met two other of your coworkers, Jake and Grace, they are also really nice. You and Jade are having a lunch break, you’re just eating a sandwich and drinking some water.

“so how you got pregnant?” She asks with her mouth full.

“oh that’s a long story, something with my old job” you smile.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“sure, I used to be a sex worker, and well as you see not everyone uses a condom..” you shrug your shoulders.

“no way, that’s such a shame, are you not on birth control?”

“no, my parents both died and well, I’m not like… rich..” you chuckle.

“well I bet it’s much better working hire then”

“absolutely” you nod. “Without Eddie I could have never do this.”

“Who’s Eddie?”

“He’s my boyfriend, since yesterday, but the guy who got me pregnant was kinda… a dick” you chuckle “turns out to be his dad and he’s a criminal and just shot me, because I actually got pregnant and Eddie kinda saved my life, now I’m living it’s him and his uncle in a trailer.” You explain

“He shot you?”

“yep, it hurted like a bitch, but baby is still alive” you look down at your bumb.

“to be honest I would love to be friends with you, you seem like a very nice person to me” she smiles.

“thank you, i would love to be friends with you too”

“y/n?” Jake asks walking in.

“Oh yeah?” You turn around.

“Some guy long hair is asking for you” he shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay tell him I’ll be there in a moment” you smile and Jake nods walking off “speaking of the devil, Eddie is hire” you get up taking your last sip of water.

“Long hair huh? Rockstar?”

“he plays in a band” you nod.

“Cool I wanna see him” she gets up walking behind you. You look around seeing Eddie brighten up as he sees you.

“hey sir can i get you something” you joke.

“Yes ma’am, I would like four coffees”

“normal ones?”

“just give us the best” he lean against the wall.

“alright, something else?”

“Your number” he jokes.

“Well its the same as yours sooo” you smile.

“okay okay”

“give him a free cookie” Jade interrupts.

“you can give him a free cookie, I don’t wanna get fired on my first day.

“okay, hire” she gives a heart shaped cookie. “Act like she gave it herself”

“I will, thank you” Eddie chuckled.

“That’s gonna be 18,71 dollar” you look at him. “you have order number 67 by the way.”

“Hire, you can keep the rest” Eddie gives 20 dollars and walks back to his band mates. You wave at them and they wave back and Gareth points at you and Eddie then does an impression of a moan while having sex.

“he’s childish”Jade looks at him.

“I know right” your roll your eyes.

“he’s kinda cute tho” she smiles.

“he’s Gareth, Drummer” you smile while making the four coffees ready Jade helps you.

“he’s cool, uhh what kind of coffee?”

“mixed with white chocolate and sugar, they can use some for tonight”

“they doing a performance?”

“yes” you nod while adding a few pumps of a white chocolate flavored mixture in two of them and Jade does the other two. You mix sugar in it too and put the lit on it, adding the straws.

“number 67” you smile looking at Eddie while Jade bring the other two. Eddie and Jeff get up to get the coffees.

“what is it?” Jeff looks at it.

“White chocolate” you smile handing them. Eddie smiles taking two and Jeff does the same.

“sounds really good, thanks sweetheart” Eddie smiles.

“Wait I want a hug before you go” you walks around to Eddie.

“come hire then” Eddie wraps his arms around you carefully not to spill any coffee on you, you hug him back with a smile.

“success with practicing you guys” you look at the rest, pulling away from the hug.

“thanks” Gareth smiles.

“thank you” Eddie waves and they all walk out.

—later that day on 8 pm—

you’re in Mary Harrington her room, you two called a couple times and Eddie told you could bring a friend if you wanted too. So now you’re wearing a pretty silvery glitter dress.

“that looks really pretty on you y/n, i should wear it” Mary stands behind you in the mirror she found some old clothes from her mom when she was pregnant.

“Is your mom okay with it?” You look at her.

“mhm, you can even ask it again, she is okay with it” she smiles. “And you should put on this shoes” she shows dr martens. “And are you wearing pretty panties, Eddie is definitely gonna fuck you.” She smirks.

“Shut up” you giggle.

“hire” she puts a necklace around your neck. “Can I do your makeup?”

“Sure” you look at the neckle with a smile.

“sit down” she points at the chair behind you.

“okay” you nod sitting down on the chair.

“uhhh, let’s start with this” she puts something on your face and spreads it out with her hands. She grabs concealer and puts it under your eyes and nose. “I’m not gonna use too much cause you’re already pretty”

“Thanks sweety” you chuckle. She smiles while blending it out.

“so tell me about dating Eddie”

“So I had my first work day today and he came to get a coffee with the band specially for me” you smile.

“what did you make him”

“I guess it was one with white chocolate”

“those are good, i will definitely go there any time” she smiles too.

“fine by me, i work everyday except for the weekend”

“how many hours a day?”

“seven”

“it seems like a fun job” she puts on some pouder and blush.

“it is except for those bitchy customers with a attitude” you laugh.

“I can imagine” she does your eyeliner and mascara.

“How is your boyfriend?”

“good, he is on vacation with his parents now” she grabs a red lipstick and puts it on.

“fun, you’re done?”

“yep” you look into the mirror with a smile, she actually made you look pretty, you’re sure Eddie is gonna love it.

“wait” she adds some glittery black eyeshadow. “Better”

“I love it thank you”

“now let’s go” she grabs her bag and you get up, ready to go see Eddie play with his band.

Hay Hay, i probably will not post anything before Christmas anymore so happy holidays 🫶🏻🎄

taglist: @bethexo07 @kellyxo1 @daisyridleyss @ilovetaquitosmmmm

(if there is a line through your name means I can’t tagg you, sorry!)

[echantedtoon]

Waning Obsession(Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch1 Fated Encounter

When the shadowed moon turns to a full eclipse that blocks out even the stars, the monster comes out to claim the maiden. The wound Cupid's arrow caused by piercing his dark heart bleeds out for her, so he would seek what his body needed to heal. The waning desire pangs him so.

This is a semi rewrite for In The Moon's Shadow/ Eclipsed Starshine. I wasn't very happy with how either turned out so I'm reediting the old chapters to be better and adding new ones and getting rid of some completely. With new plot points added in and a few other things. Again there's a few things that you need to know about so please read the points below!

1. This is a Yandere-ish story. I in NO way support any of that kind of relationship in real life!

2. This is a story with Demons from Demon Slayer so expect there to be some fighting, cussing, blood, mentioned killing, and other such things. Although they WILL be way toned down.

3. Kokushibo isn't going to be much of a yandere and more of having no idea how human relationships work but that's because Im not used to writing full blown yanderes. So the relationship will be non-toxic.

4. This IS an AU. So barely anything will be cannon.

5. If any chapters have warnings please read and heed them.

(Warnings: Some Hate and discrimination against demons. Demons don't eat humans in this au but most aren't very pleasant.

EDIT: Fixed previous spelling errors plus added one or two details.)

To say the least you had a pretty consistent, normal life. 

....

......

No. Really. You did. There really wasn't anything else to describe it. Just that. Normal. Plain. Average. But calm and quiet. A normal every run of the mill life. As simple as that. Your life wasn't too different than the other average woman's. There wasn't anything that stood you out from another person.

And that's EXACTLY what you loved about it.

For as long as you could remember it had always been pretty peaceful. You were raised by a kind older couple along with many other children they took in. You had a happy normal childhood, and when you turned fourteen you were offered an apprenticeship by your tiny village's local fragrance maker. It wasn't the most exciting life but as you grew older into adulthood you learnt to appreciate the calm and quiet of your job. Learning from your tutor to carve the carefully crafted hand made soups and candles into different shapes, learning the best ways to store incense, and slowly learning how to make perfumes. Although you hadn't gotten a hand for the liquid scent sprays yet. But you didn't mind. You were always surrounded by delightful fragrances.

Overall your life as an adult was everything you could've asked for. A peaceful village with plenty of good people. A calm life away from waring clans and big crime. A job that pays well. And a small home you could call your own. There wasn't much for you to really worry yourself over except for the stares. You couldn't pretend that you didn't get many stares from the men in the town. Many offers of marriage declined. And many more people becoming angry but only a select few had gotten violently aggressive and they were all taken cared of one way or another. So there really wasn't anything much else in your town to worry about-

"The fighting has gotten worse to the east of here."

The sounds of broom bristles sweeping across the floor stopped in their actions. Your hands paused in their task of cleaning the shop entrance to look up and over. The small shop was quiet again today. There was hardly any customers in at all other than sweet old Mrs.Tenshi whom had stopped by to by a few rose scented candles for her study. Not a sound to be heard except for your body stepping around to sweep the floors and the wind chimes hung just right outside of your boss's shop. You figured today was a perfect day to sweep and mop the store front and dust the shelves to keep the store looking clean and enticing to customers. But hearing the words of the older woman sitting just in front of a small table had made you pause and turn to her.

"What?"

Her wrinkled face frowned harder in a scowl aimed at nothing in particular but clearly upset very much at something troubling her. "The fighting to the east of here has gotten worse. The peace talks between the warlords hasn't provided anything. Soon their fighting will continue on."

That's right. The war. You nearly forgotten about that. Two of the biggest nations there was around here had been fighting for almost three years now. Wars were full of death and misery and destruction and chaos. However your little village nestled away in the hills and forests had remained entirely unaffected by anything the two nations had done being just outside of both. Far away enough to escape any negative side effects but close enough to still hear news of what was going on with the wars. Sometimes you'd even see soldiers walk through town to buy supplies or sake from the local markets before leaving. Their armor and swords clanking heavily. Their bodies usually covered in scars and healing wounds. And their powerful war horses stomping down the paths. You've always made it a habit to avoid interaction with those men as much as possible even if most of them had been actually quite friendly to who they spoke to. You just didn't want any trouble with anyone. So you always played it safe. But even the soldiers visiting was a pretty rare occurrence. You hadn't seen any for the last year now even. So you were never really too concerned about what what those men did miles and miles away from you. It wasn't affecting you so you didn't see any reasons for concern.

"Oh my. That is awful. Those poor men must be very tired by now."

"It is not the men who concern me." The older woman rose a shaking hand out to place down a small bar of lavender scented soap she'd been mindlessly fiddling with for the past ten minutes as her mind wondered off on its own. "A human I can have no qualms against but it's the beasts that make me feel concerned."

"Beasts?" Was she perhaps referring to the soilders? You heard these warriors could be ruthless in battle and blood thirsty enough to rival a bear's appetite.

Her eyes flashed dangerously at you. "Demons you naive girl! Demons! The blood lusting animals that dare walk amongst us and act like we are equals when they are nothing but mindless savages!"

You had nothing to say against that. Mostly because you didn't know what to say to that. 

Demons.

Yes. Yes you've heard of such people. People who were not human. Beings with horns like dragons, fangs like a wolf, multiple eyes and arms like spiders, and all kinds of other rumors. Everyone always pointed at demons for things that went bump in the night. Rumors said that they were supposed to be nothing but bad news for anyone. Blood thirsty and being able to harness dangerous powers. But you'd never met one before. Oh you knew they existed alright. How did you know? Well you never saw a demon before but you HAD seen a man that claimed to have demon heritage. He had the truth written all over his face..Or quite plainly his forehead where a third eyeball had been stationed in the traveler's face. All three very much real moving and blinking at everyone. The town's people hadn't taken too fondly of the traveler with most of your village giving him stares or out right ignoring the man asking about any inns nearby. He had gotten the unwelcoming hint and left before nightfall. You felt bad for the poor man but never spoke to him since you both hadn't interacted one on one. That was the closest thing to excitement you had gotten around here. The closest thing you'd ever seen to a real demon. And you weren't sure you actually wanted to meet one.

"It's rumored that one of those warlords are paying for the beasts to be mercenaries for war!," she spat continuing on with her disdain for the demons.

"Well that's only rumored right?" You changed the subject politely not wishing to continue listening to her ramble on her hatred. "You shouldn't believe gossip about something like that if there's no real proof. Otherwise you'll be worrying about nothing."

You turned back to the hardwood floor and started up your broom again making your boss scoff at your words. "Rumors or not you'll soon learn that being vigilant about these things can and will save you later on in life. It's how I survived for so long."

"I'm sure it is," you politely said back not in the mood to argue about such things. 

It was stupid to argue with someone so bullheaded anyways. The old were stuck in their ways and would die on their hill before admitting defeat. Energy was better spent in productivity and getting work done now rather then letting it build up later.

Days of beautiful cloudy skies and warm weather transitioned to warm nights with the moon shining brightly in the dark. Blissfully life went on. Peaceful. Hard working. Serene. And safe from any harm that might've been taking place mere miles away and hopefully it would stay like that. The thoughts of danger and of Demons wasn't too concerning but it always looked in the back of your mind like a pesky fly not willing to buzz off but as always life goes on. Summer was in full swing, and the enjoyable warm weather would not be wasted on worrying about what ifs or possible scenarios that might not even come to pass. The warm weather should be taken advantage of. To be enjoyed to the fullest. To be appreciated and enjoyed.

"Will you be going night fishing again tonight?"

The smell of lavender fragrance filled the air as your hands carefully guided a small carving tool over a purple hunk of soap. The hands holding it currently in the process of carving the small soap hunk into the shape of a flower, to be placed on the shelf later for a customer to buy and take hone. Your eyes blinked up at the older woman. She was already grabbing a few previously carved soaps in different shapes, patterns, and forms up in her arms to place on the shelves as you finished up the one you were currently holding. But you had stopped to look up at her as she spoke.

"Yes. It's less crowded that way." Your eyes followed her form as she slowly stood up and walked over to a nearby shelf her older form shuffling along slowly. "The waters are always crowded with men and boys during the day. It's a favorite past time for them....and not many of them appreciate a woman intruding into their 'territory.'"

The elder hummed. "It's a dangerous thing to do, walking around at night by yourself. Especially for a girl."

"I only do it when the nights are clear and warm." You smiled widely at her back before the hands continued their task of carving. "I'll be safe near the village. A few good meals of fish will be worth losing a few hours of sleep."

She hummed placing a cat shaped soap bar on the shelf. "I still say it's foolish...but if you're insisting on going out tonight, pick up some wild basil for me. I'm starting to run low."

Your lips smiled wider. "I will. There's some near a small pond not too far outside of the village."

"Hm. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I'll be alright. You'll see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You should have heeded the warnings.

Warm blue skies faded to make way for her dark sister to claim for night. The sun kissing the horizon good night as it's last few rays of light disappeared from sight. Mothers called their children inside their warm houses to sleep in their cozy beds safe and sound until the next morning. The silence was peaceful on the warm summer night breezes. The calmness soothing the crickets to sing their lullabies to the dimming lights of the homes. Lantern lights being put to sleep after a long usage. The bustling town settling down and falling asleep soundly. 

Your door opened  quietly and you stepped out of your house and into the quiet, barren streets. The moonlight shining down and kissing your form. A shiver running down your spine from a warm breeze ghosting over your form. It would be a good night to fish. The door closed softly as you started walking towards the woods outside the village, fishing line curled up within your right hand. The moon shown down upon the forests illuminating the night bright enough for you to see and watch as the trees swayed im the warm breezes and hear the peaceful rustling of their leaves and lullabies of the crickets. It was just so beautiful and lively. You always loved doing this. Free from crowds of people and being able to peacefully just live in these moments.

The sweet smells of flowers and grass were encouraging your lungs. Combined with the warmth of the summer air warming your muscles and urging them on. Both made you feel as light as a feather on your mere feet and the ground felt soft under you. You were smiling. Arms out splayed against the wind blowing around your hair like crazy and cooling your body against the warm heat beaming down on you. Step after step. Faster and faster. You joyously started to run through the pathways and around a corner of a house as soft dirt pathways turned into grassy floors of forests as you excitedly entered the beckoning woods. The moonlight being blocked out a bit because of the swaying trees and branches but you could still see perfectly fine. The small pond so many people liked to fish at during summer wasn't too far from where you entered. It was just nearly a quarter of a mile into the woods. You loved coming out during these warm months and gathering the natural resources the forest provides your small village. It really was a perfect place to live being so abundant in resources and stationed within such a secluded and safe location. The way you found the decently sized pond was walking through a bush and having to blink when a flurry of sparkling lights glared your eyes for a second.

 Blinking your eyes adjusted to the beautiful and wonderful sight of a dark beautiful pond reflecting the moon on its surface and sparkling as if the reflection had its own stars and consolations within its ripples. Completely untouched and waiting for you to touch its soft silence. Soft footsteps approached the gleaming  water and a carbon copy of a woman appeared in the gleaming reflections. She smiled up at the original mirroring the actions of the woman above. The woman's fiddled with her line and the small contacts she brought along with her. A hook with a big, juicy worm stabbed on the end of it dangled over the woman in the dark reflection before dropping into the water and rippling the reflection woman away back into the darkness of the waters.

The night was a beautiful thing if you needed it to be, or if you wanted to make it become that way. And in a way, it was both to you in the end. The sweet smells of flowers and grass filling your lungs. Combined with the warmth of the summer season warming your smaller body as you walked along the forest back towards your small home. Tonight was the perfect night to go fishing within the woods as it was warm, full of food, and a wide variety of other items that you could harvest. Wild berries to be picked. Old fruit trees long forgotten. A small pond with plenty of fish that only you knew. It was perfect for someone like you who loved these nights. Even taking time to pick up a few stems of basil and what fruits were left by the hoards of hungry men who flocked through here during the day. You could just harvest and hunt whatever you needed even if you lost track of time and it was fairly dark now. It shouldn't take you too long to get back to your village, but even then it'll be darker and later before you got back anyways. Not that you were too worried about still being in the woods when night fell, after all there wasn't really anything dangerous like bears or tigers where you lived. They usually didn't go near human settlements. The most dangerous predator in these woods was the hawks and owls with the occasional fox here and there. You doubt a bird or tiny fox would even want to bother you, you were much bigger compared to them and it wouldn't be worth the fight for the food you carried when they could easily hunt their own. So no. You weren't worried at all. And it was beautiful outside tonight, a warm breeze in summer and the moonlight being your companions for the long trip back home.

You had nearly made it out when a curiosity caught your eye. A light within the darkness ahead of you. One that wasn't the moon or stars in the sky and it certainly wasn't the fireflies. A flickering dancing light that was blocked by a wall of tall bushes. That... wasn't supposed to be there. It had caught you so off guard that you nearly dropped the few fish you caught on your line in your hands. The bold brightness of the light was mysterious but... enticing. Enough to get you walking forward towards the wall of bushes. Hand slowly reaching out to grab a handful of soft leaves on the bush to pull back. You were expecting perhaps a start of a forest fire or perhaps a hunter camping out here enjoying the warm weather like you were.

However you were not expecting seeing  was a fluttering purple and black haori coat moving with the cool breeze or the man who was using the fire as his companion for the night. The woman's body ran cold as she realized he was standing just a few inches away from her own face and loomed above her form and it took you longer to figure out one thing. He had been staring in your direction this entire time. It took you off guard once the realization hit you, and it caused you to pause staring back at the still chest of the man. For a long time there was nothing but silence not even the crickets dung. Only the fire behind the dark figure, the wind, and the rustling of leaves to save you from total silence.

"A woman."

You flinched at the Deep monotone voice above you. There was a clicking sound in the dark that had your eyes darting to the right in search of the source, and ice flooded your veins when realization struck you. Two strong looking hands had let go of the familiar sight of a sword tied to the side of the flowing purple and black checkered haori. This man, whomever he was, had been gripping onto that weapon with intent to strike. The clicking noise had been him resheathing his sword. 

Dark fear enveloped in your mind as your eyes darted away and back to the middle of the man, one hand still clutching onto the hilt of the weapon. "I-Im sorry. I-I had no idea s-s-someone else was out here. I didn't m-mean to scare you."

You couldn't make out his face entirely, the fire was too small to produce enough light and he stood mostly in darkness so you couldn't make out exactly what color the eyes that looked back at you were, not that you could anyways refusing to look up at his face. But you could tell he was young, maybe mid or late twenties by the sounds of his voice. 

"A weak thing like you did not scare me." You flinched at his blunt, harsh words. "Who are you?"

"I'm from the village. I wasn't expecting anyone else to be out here hunting," you somehow managed to stutter out from the intense atmosphere this man radiated.

"I am not hunting." His head tilted slightly and bore into the sight of the line of fish still strung in her hands. "Is that what you were doing?"

"N-No ..I-I was fishing."

"Fishing?" You nodded. And finally the other hand slowly dropped from his sword much to your relief. "A woman should not be in the forest late at night."

"I-Im ok. I d-dont live too far from here. H-honestly I didn't know another hunter w-was out here."

"I am not hunting."

"But if you're not hunting, what are you doing all alone out here?"

"That is none of your business." Again you fell silent from his blunt tone that left no room for arguing but he did seem to pause taking in the sight of the woman before him. "...Is there a town nearby here then? Or does your family live out here alone?"

"T-There's a town," you squeaked out.

"With businesses?" You nodded quickly and silently making the man above you hum. "... Excellent."

He spoke strangely. Very slow and with pauses between his words. Strange. Maybe he was tired from traveling. It was turning night after all.

"Oh. Well I won't disturb you then-" A gurgling growling noise stopped you in your tracks from backing away as the man stiffened up. You both stood there. You slowly blinked and your eyes lowered to his mid section. "....Have you eaten anything?"

"No."

"Then here." The man seemed surprised when you reached out to the line you were holding, snapping off one of the fish, and held it out to the darkened figure. "It's not much, but traveling on an empty stomach isn't good for your strength. Take this and make some food out of it...Wait. You do know how to cook fish, right?"

You finally looked up at his face and.... couldn't make out a single feature of his face. It was too dark and the hat he wore blocked out even more light cloaking it further from view, although you could make out long hair poking out from his hat and pool near his neck. Bangs maybe?

The stranger remained silent for a long moment just looking at the fish dangling from your hand seeming to contemplate for a long moment. "No and I Don't need it but I will take it since you offered." A hand reached out and grabbed it from the darkness. You noted how much larger they were compared to yours and the strange pointed nails but didn't comment as the hand pulled it back into the darkness and away from your sight. The man's head turning away downwards to you assumed to look at the food you had offered him. "...This will suffice for now." He then turned back to you. "What will you do now?"

"Go home of course." Your head nodded further up into the woods back towards your village and his head turned following your direction. "Wait. Did you just say you couldn't cook fish?"

"It is unnecessary-"

"No it's not!" Your rise in volume made him turn back to you, not surprised or anything but his brow rose at your frown. "Don't you know eating raw meat isn't good for your body? Or are you trying to save it for later?"

"I will reserve my hunger for later travel-"

"By then the meat will be bad and unsuitable for consumption. That'll just make you even more sick regardless if it's cooked or not!" You wanted to facepalm this stranger despite your earlier fear. It was instead replaced with a ridiculous feeling at this situation. You didn't know him at all, but he wasn't the brightest it seemed, or being tired and hungry is clouding his judgement. You extended your hand. "Here. Give it to me. I'll cook it for you then."

The darkened face tilted more at you. "YOU will cook for me?"

"Yes. Because I gave you the fish, if you refuse to eat it properly then it'll be on me if you get sick. There's a fire here and plenty of sticks from the trees, so I'll be able to cook it for you the same way I cook it for myself."

He didn't say anything, but after a couple seconds, a hand slowly held out the fish back out to you and you took it back, only to drop your small bag and other fish to the ground and wonder off towards the woods still carrying the fish in one hand. All the while his head followed your every movement from your form walking into the darkness, to your hand picking up a stick and jabbing it into the fish, to you walking back and just placing the entire thing into the fire with a part of the long stick safely out of the way of flames. And then the silence resumed for what seemed like hours as he just watched your actions which included using the stick to flip the fish over onto the other side after a long while. After a long while more, you completely pulled the now fully brown fish from the fire and held it out to him with a smile.

"Here. It should be good to eat now, and don't try to save it for too long or else it'll go bad." There was another pause from the man who just stared at the food you offered before the same hand reached over and took it from you once again. Seeing it as your job being done here, you quickly grabbed your things, thanked the gods for a chance to leave, and turned away from him. "Will you be leaving soon?"

"That is none of your business and neither is my travels."

Ah. So another traveler heading up there. There was a few in your limited years of living here and they all traveled past your village on their way over the mountains ...Although it was a bit strange this stranger was armed. He might've been another soldier and that thought frightened you. It was best if you distanced yourself. Either way it was none of your business. Your business was to get home now and get some sleep before you had to work again tomorrow. But still....he seemed hungry.

"Is your destination far? You might need some more food if you're stomach is growling."

"I will be fine."

That was a no then. You contemplated something in your head and picked up your remaining fish and bag only to toss it at his feet with a thud. He looked at it, then up at your face in obvious question. "It's full of wild fruits and vegetables. They might taste a little bitter, but they'll last you a couple days. I can just come back and get more for myself. And if you need more, you'll find some around the pond back there-" you pointed back from where you first came from. "-if the men hadn't all gotten it first." He didn't say anything, not that you were expecting him to, but you took that as your cue to leave, so your body bowed at the waist. "May you have a safe journey."

With that you turned and began walking back off towards the direction of your village, with less food for your hungry self, but you could always come back and get more. Right now you wanted to do nothing more than to get home and put distance between yourself and the man. The strange man watched your form until it disappeared from his sight and slowly turned back to the fish in his hand....And taking a rather large bite with his inhuman fangs.

[klausysworld]

hello !! i was wondering if you could do a friends to lovers angst with a happy ending fic with klaus and gender neutral reader??

Always and Forever.

Being Klaus Mikaelson’s best friend has its issues lets say. You know with the permanent target on my back and his siblings always needing me to sort him out. It gets a little ridiculous. But i kinda signed up for it so eh what you gonna do?

Im a werewolf, Klaus and i met through Hayley when she wanted me to help look after Hope. Once Hope was born the Mikaelsons began taking out their enemies one by one so that when Hope grows up she can be safe. I’m an emotional support animal for them most of the time and i got used to that role. They all tell interesting stories anyway as they’re like a million. Klaus has just always been my favourite though, like have you seen him?? yea he’s fucking hot. Accent? to die for. He paints his feelings and is a great dad, if i didn’t know he was a psychotic serial killing original hybrid id be screaming husband material…sooo

So i have like a teensy crush on him. It’s not like im gonna get with him though, its just a you’re cute and i see you all the time and you make me blush and make me feel butterflies in my stomach and i think about you all the time kind of thing you know?

doesn’t matter. Anyway… right now im sat with hope in the play room. We’re both sat on a big beanbag reading kids books, she’s learning how to read and spell so it’s fairly amusing listening to her pronounce it.

Halfway through the book there was a loud slamming and a mix of all the siblings yelling, Klaus’s being the most heard as usual

“hope honey? you keep reading okay? im gonna be right back yea?” i told her and hiss her temple

“bye bye y/n, don’t get mad at dada he gets sad when your mad” i smiled at her and waved as i closed the door so she couldn’t hear the argument

i made my way down the stairs and to the main room where Klaus was pointing a dagger at Rebekah while Elijah was cautiously making his way closer to Niklaus

“ah shit” i whispered but they all heard me and heads turned to me. Klaus visibly gulped and hesitated when on his grip of the dagger, he didn’t like me to see his violent side knowing that i was someone who actually liked him it scared him that i would leave too

“love, you need to go back with Hope for a bit please.” i kept my eyes trained on his as i neared the situation, Elijah took a step towards Rebekah so they could make a run for it when Nik was in a less aggressive position

“can we talk about what you want to do before you do it? Hopes waiting for you, she wants to read you a story, she’s getting really good at her big words now” i could see his face softening, he glanced at the floor for a second before nodded stiffly, i put my hand out and he dropped the dagger into it, the other siblings sped out of the room immediately.

i took his hand and lead him up the stairs i stopped outside the play room and looked at him for a moment

“you can’t go in mad you know that…” he kept his eyes down as he nodded, it was then that he sniffed and i noticed the tears in his eyes

“hey, it’s okay, come on, come here” i brought to his room instead and sat him down on his bed, i put the dagger somewhere on his shelf and moved to lay down on his bed, i tugged his arm making him lay with his head on my shoulder and his arm across my body while he curled into my side. i pet his hair and rubbed his back

“don’t be sad honey, you’re too pretty to pout” i felt his tears hit my skin and held him tighter

“i can’t keep either of you safe, not…you and not Hope, i c..i can’t” i kissed his head softly and squeezed his arm

“you are doing such a great job nik, Hope and i both know how hard you’re working, everyone is gonna keep her safe, you are doing so well, i promise you that” he made a little noise, somewhat like a whimper that i don’t think he meant to let out

“but you’re not safe, you’re never safe anymore. It’s because of me and we both know that” i shook my head and sat us both up, i cupped his face between my hands and stroked his stubble

“im here by my choice, i want to be here. You don’t need to worry about me okay?” tears seemed to never stop falling from his pastel blue eyes

“i can’t lose you” he whispered making my heart break, i brought his face closer to mine and kissed his forehead

“you won’t, im staying”

“you promise?”

“you want me to give you my word all Elijah style?”

he laughed at that and nodded resting his head against mine

“i, as an honorary Mikaelson, give you, Niklaus Mikaelson, my very special, ultra powerful word that i will never, ever leave you. I love you.” he was smiling wide and laughing

“mmm that was very ultra specially powerful i must say, and i love you too” i laughed with him and wrapped my armed around his neck

“mm yes Mr Mikaelson only the uttermost best for you, my lord” i spoke in a mocking accent and threw my head back dramatically

“you are amazing you know that?” he spoke in a hushed tone and i nodded with a warm smile

“I love you.” his face was serious as he said it making me giggle

“uhuh i love you too we say it all the time” he shook his head and pulled me closer

“you don’t understand, i love you, not like you’re my friend and i love you like, i want to be with you and marry you love you!” he didn’t give me a chance to respond before his lips were on mine, i kissed back as fast as possible as we melted against each other

“i love love you too Nik, remember if you marry me its gotta be always and forever though and i expect a ring” he chuckled to that and nodded hastily

“ the best ring, the best dress, the best everything for you my love, always and forever”

i was smiling ear to ear as i nodded

“We need to go see Hope”

“I think she’s listening at the door..”

little giggles sounded through the room as she launched herself at us both

“i wanna be a flower girl!!”

we all stayed up late reading stories with hope and looking at engagement rings, supernatural war or not, we would stay together. Always and forever.