#c!Tommy… what are you doing there. get out of my head. you’re a strange child

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

In other news I think I’ve begun to adopt c!Tommy’s sense of humor and I’m unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

[businessbois]

“you’re the most orphan child i’ve ever met” an attempt at analysis of c!phil and c!tommy’s relationship

this is entirely an analysis of c!phil and c!tommy’s relationship. im not gonna be talking about morals or terrorism or really even wilbur or fundy because those are whole other points. just these two and the convoluted abyss of “canon”

title quote from technoblade here

manburg war- november 16th

doomsday- january 6th

butchers army day- december 16th

i mean phil’s first day, the manburg war, itself implies a lot of history and relationships with these characters. tommy shouts “philza minecraft” in joy and recognition when he sees him. phil says these two lines that confuse the hell out of me. “whatever tommy and tubbo do, i’ll follow them” and “i gotta take care of my kids.” again, “my kids” doesn’t have to mean biologically, he can just be a father figure, see them as his kids, but i suppose we retcon these? because of the relationship they imply that doesn’t really line up? “i’ll follow them” is a statement of devotion, loyalty. i’m not saying his goals couldn’t have changed from these, i’m saying that in order to have this goal of “following tommy and tubbo through whatever” in the first place, he’d have to really love and care about these kids. that doesn’t line up with how people are claiming he doesn’t know them or owe them anything. im okay with retconning these because this was when i think cc!phil still believed the family dynamic was canon.

but the thing about decanonizing something big like that, is that, okay, maybe we can get rid of the conversations and lines, but then we have physical things like friendship emeralds and tommy slippers. he visits tommy in exile and gifts him these things. a friendship emerald isn’t something you give to a random kid, it’s something gifted to ghostbur—his son—and techno—his best friend. i guess you could say he was just being nice to this strange kid? but then like, he could’ve stopped at the slippers? why the emerald? the emerald is a Big Thing, no? and we can’t decanonize or retcon, like, all of phil and tommy’s interactions, especially something with physical items involved because that’s beyond spoken lines and can’t be dismissed as easily. but then it also leaves us with this utterly confusing narrative. there’s the line from the butcher army day, “carls okay. technos okay. tommys okay. thats all i wanted to know.” do we decanonize that too?? it’s a statement of deep care “that’s all i wanted to know” and he includes tommy in it. (tommyinnit haha) with interactions and lines like this, you can’t just say “they’re not biologically related, so they don’t know each other and phil doesn’t have to care about this kid.” because he did at some point. a lot. and these lines prove it. you can’t decanonize every moment like this. (i mean, i guess you can, i cant stop you) not when tommy and phil’s interactions are littered with it. not when tommy keeps a friendship emerald in his special chest right next to phukkit (a prized gift from tubbo) to this day. 

moving on to tommy.

cc!tommy is very smart and very good at what he does. he’s studying film in college, he got a 9 on his english gcse, he’s got every cc he’s come into contact with singing about how clever he is. he makes character choices deliberately. i don’t wanna write off too much of this as him just doing bits and faffing around because tommy’s literally always in character. i am down to decanonize the supposed mishap of shouting phil’s name when getting locked in prison, though honestly, it doesn’t necessarily seem like an out of character action for tommy who has a history of calling for phil when he feels upset. see: “where’s dadza?” (this instance is strange too because “dadza” is a strange slip up to make. it feels purposeful. i don’t think cc!tommyinnit calls his friend “dadza” outside of roleplay. and honestly the whole delivery and head shaking is very much in-a-character) and @/my-stupid-fandoms said some smart stuff about it here. but anyways, sorry, i’ll take what’s surely canon. in the manburg war we have “AND PHIL’S HERE,” incredibly excited from him and tubbo. familiarity. they know him. look up to him. we have the heartbroken "philza minecraft?"s from doomsday, indications that he trusted phil and feels hurt and betrayed. then, we have some lines that are very interesting coming from Big Man “i raised myself” TommyInnit which are as follows “I want to go ‘Philza Minecraft, I built that hotel.’ Even though it’s a lie, it will feel true.” “And then I get to go ‘Philza Minecraft, I made this house, I made this house. Are you impressed?’ And he’ll go ‘Yes.’ And then he’ll pat me on the back and then he’ll teach me how to ride a bike.” “TELL PHILZA” “AREN’T YOU PROUD?” tommy loves phil. wants phil to be impressed with him. wants phil to be proud of him. during his encounter with the egg, he says “it didn’t hurt any of the other boys. it didn’t hurt phil.” he wants phil to be safe. cares about his well being even if this is not reciprocated by phil. he follows his “it didn’t hurt techno” with an “not that i care about techno” but there is no such denial for philza. and now, immediately after being dead and pieced back together, tommy asks after five of his friends. phil is third after tubbo and jack who are tommy’s Boys™. phil is also called for the most, four times to tubbo’s three and everyone else’s one. it does seem like everyone got the memo about phil not being tommys father except tommy. 

there’s a theory around that like, wilbur found tommy and brought him home and so tommy grows up looking up to phil but phil doesn’t reciprocate. this gets to keep the kind of found family on tommy’s end but maintains the “loosely connected strangers” thing for phil. i think maybe this holds more credence than anything else, but also, “loosely connected strangers” just doesn’t add up with the stuff i’ve mentioned before: friendship emeralds, “tommys okay,” there had to be some reciprocity to their familial-ish (or at least caring) relationship. he visited him in exile. he gave him the emerald. he said all those lines. there was a relationship there. of care. of trust. where tommy saw him as someone to look up to, to protect him. at any rate, i like the theory and since we simply have No Backstory for canon sbi at all, it works just fine even if it still just doesn’t fit.

closing

honestly i don’t know what this is. this is all the evidence, all the information i have. there’s no way they were strangers. tommy obviously definitively looks up to and cares about phil. this was reciprocated to some degree beyond “i kind of know you.” i’m a big defender of c!tommyinnit and that surely comes across here. i mostly just did this to get everything i have about c!phil and c!tommy’s out and to figure out what i actually make of it and all the confusion about it. this is here and the clips are linked, draw your own conclusions that are smarter and more concise than mine.

[jadedpen]

Welcomed with open arms

Sibling!Half phantom!GN!Reader x Sbi family (+ Tubbo)

Summary: You are stuck in the cold snow as a small toddler in a basket. As the snowstorm roared, Phantoms circle around you, letting out wails of woe and sorrow. Suddenly, you hear the flapping of big feathery wings and see the Phantoms fly away. You then see a mysterious man with a white and green striped hat and welcoming blue eyes.

For context: Wilbur and Techno are twins, the reader is the youngest of the family with Tubbo being 1 year older than Tommy. The twins are 11 years old, Tommy is 4 and Tubbo is 5.

TW: There is a small part in the beginning where the reader almost dies from hypothermia, so be mindful of that, please!

Also, don’t worry, this work will have multiple chapters, so stay tuned!

Sorry if this is kinda bad. This is my first time writing a reader fanfic.

Ao3 link here

___________________________________________________________________________________________

The bitter cold touched your skin as your breath came out slow and steady. Your fingertips glowed blue and your thin wings weren’t much help to warm you up. The basket you were placed in by your unknown parents barely kept you alive all these hours, the thin blanket wrapped around you.

Phantoms circled you, seeing you as one of their own. You could sense the distraught and worry in their cries and their wails. As they swooped down, they tried to pick up the basket that carried you, but to no avail. Your tiny toddler hands tried to reach out to them, wanting nothing more but to be carried somewhere where you won’t freeze in the storm. You let out small wails and cries, those very much akin to a Phantom, until you heard a caw.

One caw became ten, and suddenly there was a whole murder of them, so many that the amount started to block the storm. Some even tried to attack the phantoms, but they wouldn’t leave you alone. They’d rather die than let the crows have their way with you.

But, there came a large beating of wings. Ones way more than the huge murder swirling around you. As the beating wings died down, you could hear the thumps of footsteps coming towards you, and feel something or someone pick you up. The hands were the warmest thing you’ve ever felt, and your eyes met the mysterious person’s bright welcoming blue. The eyes could convey so much; uneasiness, pity, curiosity.

They wore a large hat, one that was green and white striped. Medium blond hair came out of the sides with a small braid in the front and little knickknacks hanging from the strange hat. Huge black wings stood behind them, making them seem larger than the storm from your view. Even though your vision was impaired from the cold, you could see a small bit of what they was wearing aside from their head; a green opened kimono with a black turtleneck and a strange red heart in the middle.

The person looked up at the phantoms, not noticing that their wails were of worry. They pulled out a bow and a sharp arrow, aiming it at the phantoms. You could tell that the person meant harm, and so you wailed at them to make them stop. The person looked at you, and then the phantoms. They finally noticed the roars of the Phantoms were wails and cries, meaning only woe. The person seemed to call to the crows, and the crows obeyed. Birds swooped down to the ground where you and the person were set, no longer focusing on the Phantoms.

The snowstorm got worse, cold even colder. It became harder and harder to breathe or keep your eyelids open. Eyes barely open, you could see the person holding you have panic in their eyes, looking up ahead and wings wide open. Your tiny hands clutched the cloth on their chest, trying to find even the slightest bit of warmth you could feel as the person held you and carried the basket in hand.

You felt the person run, and then take flight. Wind blew on your head as your eyes closed all the way, hearing the caws of crows seem to follow this mysterious person.

A few minutes later, you hear the storm dying down, becoming only a midnight breeze. The person carrying you descended down to the ground, walking towards something warm. Despite the storm now over, you couldn’t open your eyes, seeming to be iced shut.

A huge wave of warmth filled the air as the person opened the door to what you assumed to be their house. You heard childlike voices, 3 to be exact. You weren’t able to understand them, but you were happy to know that you weren’t the only person anymore.

“Who’s that?” A small voice said; you could feel their beady eyes staring at you. ”It’s a baby. I found them freezing in the cold. I’m happy I saved them; any longer and they might’ve been left to die. Poor thing.” The deeper voice came from above you, seeming to come from the person who saved you. The person then sat on something soft and held you in their lap.

“Are you seriously considering adopting another sibling? We already have to deal with Tommy-” “HEY!” Two voices argued, one being slightly deeper and older but still young, and the other being loud and boisterous, being the same small voice you first heard.

“Both of you shut up. Who cares if we have another sibling, this ones adorable.” A separate voice spoke up, setting a warm hand on your tiny toddler one. You lightly grabbed the person’s bigger hands, warming your seemingly frozen hand even more.

“So… do we have a new sibling now?” “Seems like it.” The two older voices continued, “Well, I just hope they don’t turn out like Tommy- “GOD DAMMIT TECHNO-“ Loud arguing could be heard while you continued to hold the mysterious boy’s hand. Opposite to the loudness, the mysterious man from before spoke, “Would you like to hold them Wil?”

You assumed he nodded his head as the striped hat man handed you to ‘Wil’. The boy held you in his arms while the striped hat man softly caressed your head lovingly. You climbed onto the Wil’s sweater, burying your face into the soft material.

“Boys, could you stop arguing before you upset the baby.” “But Techno is being a bitch!” “Tommy! Where did you hear that word?” “Nowhere!” “Shut up Tommy. Before you cause Phil to finally get those hearing aids.”

The three continue bickering while you and Wil just vibe with Wil patting your head and you snuggling into his warmth. After a few minutes of arguing, they finally calm down and crowd around you.

“Alright. I’m going to go and fix up some proper clothes for them. In the meantime, try not to make the child cry, okay?” The striped hat man said, walking out of the room.

You could feel their eyes on you, with Wil still patting your head while a hand held yours. You slowly opened your eyes for the first time in the house and finally saw your new family.

The boy named Wil had curly brown hair with bangs to right of his face, pointed ears, and brown eyes; big round glasses adorned his face and a red beanie upon his head, with a big yellow sweater. The person holding your hand looked almost exactly like him. His hair was the same as Wil’s, though it was to the right, with square glasses and the same pointed ears, with his sweater being pink. A small tusk grew out of each of their mouths, being on opposite sides.,

Wilbur swooned to you, “Hi there. I’m Wilbur.”, smiling at you with a big smile. “This here is my twin, Technoblade, but just call him Techno or Tech.” He looked over to said twin, with Techno staring at you and then patting your head.

The smaller one, who had blonde hair and blue eyes wearing a white shirt with the sleeves being red, looked just as boisterous and loud as he acted. He looked at you curiously as you turned your head to look at him, and to your surprise started poking you in the cheek rather annoyingly with you groaning out of annoyance and snuggling up to Wilbur.

“Tommy, stop poking them you’re gonna make them hate you.” “Shut it Wil, you know I will be the favorite brother. Better than you or Techno or even Tubbo.”

Speaking of the devil, the one you assumed was ‘Tubbo’, due to his name only now being said and the rest having said their names, walked down the creaky stairs; a blanket over his shoulders. The boy had messy brown hair and goat pupils in his blue eyes.

Tubbo walked towards the couch, rubbing his eyes in tiredness. “Phil told me that we apparently have a new sibling.” He walked towards you and sat in front of Wilbur, staring into your (e/c) eyes. “What’s their name? Have you guys even figured out a name?” “I think we should wait until Phil gets back. We don’t want Tommy to try and name them ‘Big Man’.” Saying this, Techno squeezes your hand. “But anyway, I had this super weird dream-“

As Tubbo started ranting about various dreams he’s had over the week, Wilbur nudges Techno and hands you to him. Reluctantly, Techno holds you, with you snuggling into his sweater, which was made of the same material as Wilbur’s.

A few minutes pass and Tubbo is still talking about his dreams when Phil comes in. “Alright. I’ve set up a room for the little one. Considering they seem to be half Phantom, there aren’t any windows since I don’t know if they are affected by the sun or not.”

“Great. Speaking of, what are we going to name them?” “I say we name them Big Man!” “That’s a horrible idea Tommy!” Wilbur and Tommy continue to argue while Phil, Techno, and Tubbo all crowd around you on the couch. “So… what should we name them?” Tubbo started. “Well, what about something nice? Something… simple but fitting.” Tubbo and Phil listed off possible names, seeing if anything would stick.

“What about… y/n?” The rest of the family looked at Techno, the person who suggested the name. “Y/n?” Wilbur stated, thinking over the name. “Y/n. A lovely name.” Phil smiled, looking at you.

“Welcome to the family, Y/n.”

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐌 𝐈𝐈 ↟ 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞

↠  summary: Overcome with fever, you struggle to separate fact from fiction and after an unwanted visitor meets his end, you finally experience the infamous Blood God.  

↠ fantasy au

↠  pairing: c!Techno x fm!reader

↠  tw: blood, death/killing, gore, reader’s lack of morals, fever dream flashbacks

↠  wc: ~2.3k 

↠  previous chapter ↟ make a request ↟ create the next moodboard 

The wildflowers seemed to grow around you, threading through your fingers and cradling your body as the sun warmed your skin. You stretched your limbs, basking in the sweet rays when your hand was swatted back to your side, capturing your attention.

You turned your head, eyes meeting Dream’s. His green irises were nearly iridescent in the brightness. His blond hair was lighter than when you’d last seen him. Then again, the two of you were covered in grime, on opposite ends of a blade.

“Where’ve you been?” He asked, voice calm and optimistic. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You smiled slightly. “I’ve met a man, Dream. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to fall in love with me,” you joshed, turning your head back up to the sun. Spirals of color swirled with the clouds in the sky, mimicking a strange painting.

You could tell Dream was smirking at you. “Bring him with you. I need you back.”

You brushed your fingers against the brittle pages of the book in front of you. The worn spine and faded words brought a small smirk to your lips, knowing full well the book was only in such a state because of how well-loved it had been. It was an old story, one that you’d grown up hearing before being shuffled off to bed with the other children.

There was some kind of red marking in it as if it’d been in a child’s hands before you, which was probably the reason you’d had to stand on a chair to get to it. Of course, this was done behind Techno’s back as he bustled about, finishing up chores and whatnot.

You knew the extent of your injures now: a sprained, almost broken ankle, your side was torn open making Techno recount how many stitches were crisscrossing against your ribs. The pain that was the most troublesome was oddly the gash on your arm, cut open by a branch in the mix of your rush through the snow. Occasionally, your fingers went numb if you twisted your wrist wrong or pressed on the wound, to which Techno would cleverly quip, “Just don’t do that then.”

Techno strolled into your room, leaning against the door frame as he rolled the sleeves of his tunic. You perked an eyebrow in his direction, silently asking what he wanted. “You’ve spiked a fever three times this week. I need to keep an eye on you, but I have some chores to take care of outside,” he stated, approaching your bed.

“It’s the wound on her side,” an unfamiliar voice called, breaking into your dreaming. Your body began to tremble as your fingers absently searched for more blankets. You felt sticky and ill as if at any intense movement, you would surely die.

Coarse fingers brushed against your forehead gently. You recognized Techno almost instantly, even with the tiredness of your body preventing you from opening your eyes. “No, love. We need to get your fever down.”

You swallowed hoarsely. “Creat. I need creat,” you grumbled, reaching for his hands. “There’s some in my bag,” you mumbled, being pulled back to sleep by your exhausted body.

You furrowed your brows, narrowing your eyes as you looked at him. “So?”

“So, you’re coming with me,” he stated, pulling the book out of your grasp and yanking the covers off your frame. You let out a protesting groan as he held his hands out for you. When you didn’t budge, he rolled his eyes, slipping his arms beneath you and pulling you up as if you were nothing more than a sack of flour. You struggled to escape his grasp but to no avail. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder, brat,” he threatened playfully.

You scoffed. “You wouldn’t. I’m injured,” you countered.

He sent you a smug expression. “I said what I said,” he assured. You went limp in his arms as he stepped out of the room, making him chuckle at your dramatics as your body mimicked liquid. “You’re just like Tommy,” he mumbled more to himself than you.

You straightened up, pulling your arm over his shoulder and fitting to his hold. “Who’s Tommy?” You quizzed making him shake his head.

“A story for another time,” he answered simply.

You rolled your eyes slightly, attempting not to blush at the feeling of his hands curling around your body. “Fine. Keep your secrets.” He chuckled at your statement, pushing the door open with his foot. You took note of the set of arrows mounted with a bow beside the door, as if ready to be grabbed in the midst of an attack. The wind and winter hit you like a ton of bricks, the brightness of the sun gleaming off the snow burning your eyes. You weren’t sure how long you’d been inside, but you felt like an alien when presented with the elements again.

You shivered slightly as he put you down on the steps, pulling off his cloak and tucking it around you. You were swimming in the fabric as it pooled around you. You attempted not to dig your nose into its velvet coloring, which was still warm from Techno, his scent swarming around you. He didn’t pay any mind to you as you pressed the soft material against your cheek. “Who’s Dream?” He asked, setting a log up on a large stump before chopping it in half with the ax that was once wedged in the snow.

You looked at him cautiously. “Why do you ask?”

His ruby eyes flashed towards you momentarily. “You mumble about him in your sleep sometimes…” he commented.

You chewed your bottom lip, fighting not to smirk. “You’re watching me sleep now, Techno?”

He chuckled, splitting another log. His arms tensed with each impact; hair combed by the soft wind. “I was making sure the fever didn’t take you, so yes.” His quip made your cheeks heat. “Try not to over-exert yourself.”

When you finally woke up the last time, Techno’s head rested in his arms on the edge of the bed. As soon as you inched your arm to rub one of your eyes, he woke up, eyes peering at you as if you’d explode at any moment.

He stood, pressing his hand against your forehead and sighing in relief. His features seemed softer in the candlelight as he looked over you. “Let me check your wound,” he whispered softly as if trying not to disturb you as he lifted the covers, another sigh leaving his lips. A sign that you were finally close to being out of the woods.

Before you had the opportunity to answer him or swat off another one of his questions with a flirtatious remark, the sound of an approaching horse rider pulled both your attentions toward the woods surrounding the cabin. Techno let the ax fall to his side, eyeing you as if to tell you to keep quiet as a man stepped off the animal, dressed in the King’s armor.

Your heart stilled as your mind raced with attempting to place him. You swore you’d seen him before. Instead of reacting with fear, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You stood from the step you were perched on, your legs shaking as you gained your balance. You hated to admit it, but you were still weak from your injuries and the fever.

You leaned against the railing beside the steps as the man approached Techno. Something clicked within you and you realized the reason he was there. Strength pumped through your body suddenly as you inched your way towards Techno. As if he could sense you nearing him, Techno peered over his shoulder. Your haggard appearance and choppy hair served as your shield from the man’s recognition.

The soldier eyed Techno, wetting his lips slightly. “Sorry to disturb you, but I’m looking for someone,” the man began. You settled your hand on Techno’s lower back, reaching for his ax as he let it slip into your hands.

The man nodded to you in a greeting. “I haven’t seen anyone new in these woods,” Techno answered him, voice an octave lower as you made him the barrier between you and the man.

The man narrowed his eyes at Techno, face twisting into a mocking grin. “Well, if you come across her, Councilman Dream’s offering a hefty reward for her return.” Techno nodded slowly at him, attempting not to give you away as you went around the soldier. “From one man to another, I think you’re lying about her whereabouts. I’m sure the authorities would love to know where you are too.”

You heard Techno scoff, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips, getting a better hold on the ax before swinging at the man, severing his head from the rest of his body. Specks of his blood splattered against your face, the man dropping to his knees before sinking into the snow. The hot liquid was a stark contrast to the wind nipping at your cheeks.

Techno’s eyes blared at you, his mouth gaping partially. You wiped a hand across your face, attempting to get rid of the sticky crimson substance. “Blood for the Blood God,” you quipped, lips twisting into a smirk as he remained frozen. His pupils dilated, making you quiver. Suddenly, you felt like you’d disappointed him. “They won’t miss him. Look,” you squatted beside the man’s body, pulling his sleeve up to reveal the mercenary’s mark on his forearm; a crudely etched blood eagle staring back at you. “Plus, his armor is cheap. It’s a remake. He’s one of Dream’s sellswords-“

He cut you off, stepping over the body and grabbing your face in his hands, hoisting you onto your feet as he towered over you. Something animalistic burned in his features, anger dripping from his appearance as his fingers wrapped around the back of your neck. He terrified you, your hands moving to grip onto his wrists for stability. Your sights were glued to his as the two of you breathed heavily, your body coming down from its adrenaline high and his restraining whatever his primal urges were commanding of him.

He pulled you close to him as if he were going to press his lips against yours to elevate whatever was racing through his mind. Your body went limp in his hold before he bore his sharpening teeth. “Go inside,” he commanded, allowing you to slip from his grasp. You sank to your knees before him, his burning eyes ripping from you as he mounted one of his horses and left.

Your mind snapped into reality, tugging you to your feet and running into the house to grab the bow and arrows. You swung your leg over the man’s horse, taking off in the direction Techno went, desperately trying to wipe the man’s blood from your features. You looked for broken sticks and any tracks as the snow thinned until you finally spotted in him in the distance, sliding off his horse with his eyes focused on a deer in front of him.

You put tension on the bowstring, your arrow angling towards the deer. Without hesitation, you let it fly through the air, whistling slightly against the wind before boring into the deer. Techno’s head snapped towards you as you approached. “Rip it apart,” you stated, leaning on the horn of the saddle. The two of you sized each other up, breath forming clouds to mix with the winter air before he heeded your words.

You chewed your nail as you paced in front of the door, psyching yourself up to intrude on Techno. The image of him tearing the deer in half burned into the back of your mind, but you couldn’t help to wonder what he thought of you after you’d killed a man, even if he was a mercenary. You’d faced intimidating rulers without batting an eye, but Techno…

Techno was different.

You knocked lightly, pushing the door open. He looked at you over his shoulder, unbothered as he nodded for you to enter. You tried not to stare at the scars decorating the portion of his back that was sticking out of the tin bathtub. You stepped toward him, sitting on the floor beside him and pressing your shoulder to the other side of the tub so the two of you were facing in opposite directions. You felt like a child awaiting punishment.

“So, the Blood God lives then?” You broke into the silence. It seemed to be inappropriate to joke about now; for the first time since meeting him, you were serious.

Techno allowed a beat of silence to pass between the two of you, making you turned to look at him. His strong shoulders that you’d only dreamed about were on full display as his arms leaned against the edges of the tub, head leaned back slightly as his eyes closed. “Don’t condone my actions next time,” he mumbled, taking you aback. “And allow me to deal with the bloodshed.” He meant to tell you not to kill in defense of him anymore. You’d already explained that the man’s threat was the hairline for you; what swung the ax so harshly.

You swallowed. “You didn’t answer me,” you countered.

He sighed. “Only when provoked.” You drew your legs to your chest, chin resting on your knees. He reached toward you, brushing a finger against your cheek, barely missing your healing wound. The touch was gentle and reassuring as if to consul you silently. “What a pair we are.”

[vincess-princess]

war?

Chapter 3.

Word count: 5479 (this thing is huge, man) Warnings: none A\N: please don't try to solder wires with lighters, guys, it won't work

“You released… what?”

“Uh, a spider. Just a spider… the size of a car,” Nikki murmured, fighting the urge to shrink into a corner and cover his head before Mick’s gaze burned a hole in him. Tommy went all pale and Vince looked at him bewildered, still yet to realize how serious the situation was. “And it, uh, has huge claws. And fangs. And it’s afraid of the sun. That’s all I can tell you.”

“No, it’s not,” Mick narrowed his eyes. “You can also tell us why the fuck you wandered out there all alone without telling anyone and got us all into trouble. We would very much like to hear it.” His tone was at the moment so much like Nikki’s mother’s Nikki immediately shifted into a defense mode.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” he bristled like an angry hedgehog. “That’s none of your business! I go whenever and wherever I want to, and you can’t fucking stop me!”

“Normally I wouldn’t give a shit about that, but, apparently, when left to your own devices, you go fish out monsters that can rip you in half! And us with you as well!” Mick stepped towards Nikki, and for some reason, even though Mick was a few inches shorter than him, Nikki chickened out and stepped back. He immediately berated himself for that, of course, but it was too late - everyone had already witnessed this. “If we’re supposed to be a team, we should act as a team. We should coordinate our actions, at the very least!”

“So we should become joined at the hip, then?” Nikki bit back. “Obtain written permission to go pee?”

“You know perfectly well that’s not what I mean!” Mick spoke quietly but venomously, his usually light-blue eyes darkened with anger. “You’re all like ‘look at me, I’m smart and brave and cool as a cucumber and I don’t need anyone’. Well, newsflash, asshole! You do! It’s not a chance for you to show off. It’s team work for a reason.”

“Team work my ass!” Nikki realized his shouting was pathetic compared to Mick’s calm voice, but couldn’t help it. “You think I went in there to get us in trouble? We’re fucking short on supplies, if you haven’t noticed! Tommy is hopping around on one leg, for fuck’s sake! And ain’t nobody but me seems to be bothered about that!”

“Oh yes, of course, you’re the only one who sees the bigger picture and we’re just getting in your way!” Mick shot back. “We were going to search for supplies as we proceeded forward, together! Then maybe you wouldn’t-“

“Shut up!” Tommy’s voice, high-pitched and trembling, drowned out Mick’s last words. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears with his hands, like a child hearing his parents argue. “Shut up, both of you!”

“What’d you say?” Mick frowned, so surprised he didn’t even finish his annihilating speech. Tommy was never the one to intervene in their fights – usually, he cheered for one of them. But this conversation for some reason distressed him to no end – he was on the verge of crying. Nikki had never seen Tommy like this. He was prone to mood swings, yes, but he never cried over the years Nikki had known him.

“He told you to shut up,” Vince spoke in a shaky voice, hardly keeping himself together as well. “You both are just wasting time and air.”

“Well, someone’s gotta tell that moron-“ Mick began, but Tommy waved his hands in the air vigorously, stopping him midsentence.

“Why does that matter if we’re gonna die anyway?” he said so hopelessly Nikki swallowed a whole sentence sitting at the end of his tongue. Tommy’s bouts of strange behavior throughout their trip rose in his memory from the back of his mind where he pushed them, cowardly promising to think about it later.

“Wow, wow,” Mick raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t nobody’s gonna die here, drummer. That’s just a quest. It’s not that serious.”

“Then where the hell are these from?” Tommy fetched something out of his pocket and threw it in his direction. Mick and Nikki both reached for the things, each catching one of them.

A bullet shell lay on Nikki’s palm. A real bullet shell. Nikki saw those in movies and once at a shooting range where his grandpa took him for his birthday. They even felt warm, as if just out of the barrel.

Who would give regular people on a fake adventure real guns with real bullets?

“Where’d you find those?” Mick finally spoke, twisting the shell in his hand, examining it.

“Right next to the elevator,” Tommy spoke in shaky voice, all his panicked frenzy gone as quickly as it came. “In the sand.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Vince snatched the shell out of Nikki’s hand, brought it closer to his eyes. “Is this a bullet shell?”

“I have no fucking clue,” Mick said as all gazes turned towards him. Hearing that out of the mouth of the most knowledgeable and experienced member of their team wasn’t exactly reassuring. “First Sixx’s monster, and now this? Who the hell shot real bullets on a quest?”

“What the hell did they try to shoot?” Nikki corrected him grimly. The shells somewhat explained Tommy’s pissy mood as of late. Everything else didn’t become clearer, though. “T-bone, have you found any bones nearby by chance?”

Tommy shook his head.

“What bones?” Vince looked at Nikki, confused.

“Of the shooter. To know if they were successful or not.”

“You really think those creatures kill people?” Mick glared at him. “Are you out of your mind? This is a quest room, not a wasteland!”

“They absolutely do. If you saw it, you would think so too.” Nikki shuddered just remembering the creature.

“Oh, Jesus,” Mick groaned, covering his face with his hands. “If I ever go on a quest with you three again…”

“You won’t if we don’t find a way to get past that thing,” Nikki said almost cheerfully. The gravity of the situation together with the fact that it was supposed to be just a quest, a little trip across a decorated facility, was so absurd it edged on the border of funny. What wasn’t funny, though, was the creature - huge, dangerous and actively attempting to murder him. So either it was real or he was seeing things, which usually only happened when he was on drugs, and at that point he had been clean for almost six months. The quest was supposed to be a celebration for that, in a way. When – no, if – if he got out of this shit alive, he would snort so much coke-

“Nikki, stop that,” Vince demanded. He got the voice right, and if it wasn’t for the stripe of light across his face that revealed how pale it was, Nikki would believe he was the calmest of them all. “It’s no joke. Or it is, and if you have pranked us, I personally am going to kill you in the most gruesome way possible.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do, unfortunately,” Vince sighed. “I mean, you’re an ass, of course, but not to such an extent.”

“Thanks,” Nikki murmured, relieved. The distrust of Tommy and Mick he could handle. Vince, though… “You can go see it, by the way, if it hasn’t returned to its basement. It’s not a long way from here. But I’m not going down there for the second time for the love of God and everything holy.”

“Is the basement intact?” Mick asked. His voice was still harsh, but at least he stopped talking shit about Nikki and started talking business. “You said the door was locked. Maybe we can-“

“I broke the lock to get in,” Nikki interrupted him. “If you want to lock it in there, then it won’t work. Besides, I don’t think it’s the only way in, or the door would have already been open when I came.”

Mick muttered a curse and turned away from him again. His “done-with-your-bullshit” expression just begged for a punch, but Nikki held himself back. Mick was, unfortunately, right – they needed to cooperate on this.

“So we can’t just lock it up,” Tommy concluded dejectedly. “And even if we could, we wouldn’t be able to lure it back in.”

“You can’t lure it there, I’m afraid,” Nikki said. “But it can lure you. There were corpses on the floor. Two skeletons and one half-decomposed. It stank terribly.”

“Human skeletons?”

“Yes, two of them. Not the decomposing one, thank God, or I would just throw up right there. Can’t really say what animal that was, but from what I’ve seen it looked like a rat. A huge one, though. Could reach my knee when standing, probably.”

He froze in anticipation, expecting his words to cause a panic, but got only a couple of sighs and an indifferent “wow, that’s awful” in response. Compared to the monster he described giant rats must seem a nuisance to his bandmates; he couldn’t decide if that was for better or for worse.

“We can try to catch another rat,” Vince suggested half-heartedly. “Throw it in there and pass by while it’s eating. Now, where do we find one…”

“Next to us a rat is like ramen to a carbonara. What would you choose if you were it?”

“We’re not it,” Mick cut him off frustratedly. “Nobody’s catching any rats and luring anything into a basement. We just gather our stuff and leave as fast as possible.”

“That’s so far our only option,” Tommy chimed in. “Are you sure it’s afraid of sun? Maybe you alone weren’t enough of a meal to risk it, but with all four of us…”

“I am not sure about anything,” Nikki said grimly. “I was running too fast, sorry.”

“You can go first then,” Mick offered, his voice still somewhat resentful. Jeez, he surely wasn’t going to forgive Nikki any time soon. Not that Nikki needed his forgiveness, not at all, but they needed his common sense, which would be useless buried under all his grudges.

“Yeah, so that you just walk away while it’s chasing me around? No way in hell.”

“Hey, nobody’s offering to sacrifice you,” Vince pitched in. “Though Mick seems to be pretty close to it,” his lips curled into a grin. Nikki couldn’t help but smile back. If Vince still cracked his stupid jokes, it meant not everything had been lost yet.

“I’m already there, idiot,” Mick grumbled, but the vitriol in his voice seemed to tone down. “And I’m damn serious.”

“Yes, yes, sure,” Vince nodded condescendingly, like he would to a moody child. Mick, indignant, opened his mouth to argue, but Vince quickly continued, not giving him a chance to speak. “But the distraction idea is a good one, actually. Not everyone here can run as fast as you did. We need to get Tommy past it in some way, remember?”

“I can walk just fine!” Tommy protested.

Nikki poked at his ankle, eliciting a yelp from him. “No, you can’t.”

“There were cars scattered on the road,” Mick remembered. “Dunno if they’re functional, but worth a try. Anyone here knows how to start cars without keys?”

A few seconds of heavy silence later he sighed. “Okay, something else then. Any ideas?”

“We can put Tommy in a shopping cart,” Vince suggested almost seriously. “Nikki will push, though.”

“A shopping cart? How are we gonna get it?”

“Um, look for a shop? Surely there’ll be some around. All cities have shops.”

“Yeah, alright, but you will be the one to rummage in the ruins this time.” Nikki shook his head. “And don’t you say anything!” he pointed at Mick, who already opened his mouth, ready with a sarcastic remark. “You’ve already said enough.”

“Looking at you, nearly not enough,” Mick persisted. “A cart will do, I guess. We gotta head out as early as possible then. Vince, let’s go find a cart. You two, gather our things. Dismissed.”

“Wow, since when are you calling the shots here?” Nikki raised an eyebrow.

“Since now,” Mick cut off, climbing the rope. Vince sent Nikki a heavy, unreadable gaze, then turned his back to him as he climbed the rope after Mick.

Silence fell over the little basement. Nikki didn’t want to leave it; it was cozy, safe and warm; the sense of security, serenity even, was almost tangible here. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. They were still in there, yet he already missed the place.

“We’re fucked, bro,” Tommy said slowly as the metal sheet at the entrance moved back with an ear-grating sound, almost complete darkness engulfing them. “Like, really fucked.”

“Yeah,” Nikki responded quietly. “It all kinda seems like a fever dream. Or a bad trip.”

“Maybe it is.” Tommy had never been that serious before they started this quest. “I wish.”

Nikki reached out to Tommy and pinched his forearm.

“Ouch!” Tommy slapped Nikki’s hand away. The Tommy Nikki knew, lighthearted and happy-go-lucky, flashed underneath his mask-like seriousness. “That hurt, asshole!”

“Your sour face was driving me insane,” Nikki explained, relieved. “How’s your ankle? Can you walk?”

“Still sucks ass, but I’ll manage.” Tommy twisted his foot back and forth, wincing. “Why is it always me to miss out on all the fun? Maybe I wanted to go rummage the ruins too.”

“You kidding? You’re getting a luxurious ride in a shopping cart. I wish I was you.”

“You suck at comforting people, you know that?”

“Well, keep wallowing in your misery then,” Nikki turned his back on him and began gathering dirty dishes from the last night. He couldn’t be bothered to wash them, though, so he just stuffed them into a bag left from last night’s cereals. It was gonna be a future Nikki’s problem.

Tommy groaned behind his back. Nikki ignored it. Soon enough there was another, louder groan. The corners of Nikki’s mouth were twitching, but he kept stuffing plates into the bag. The third groan, so obnoxiously loud it couldn’t be ignored anymore, was the last straw.

“The monster’s gonna hear!” he squeezed out in between fits of laughter. Tommy tried to keep a serious face, but instead let out a loud hiccup, which sent them into one more laughing fit. The joke was nearly not this funny, but they kept laughing nevertheless, even when their stomachs began to hurt; or, rather, despite it, despite everything.

Laughter echoed off the walls of their den for a second or two even when they both fell silent, the sudden joy gone as fast as it came. The silence filled the room like a poisonous gas – you don’t notice it at first, brush off the weird smell until you begin to suffocate. Even packing, the activity way inferior to scavenging a dead city, was more appealing than drowning in that silence, so they got down to it.

They distributed the food between their four backpacks and filled plastic bottles with water. Then came the turn of sleeping bags.

“Man, we got any rope?” Tommy asked after several futile attempts to fit the folded sleeping bag in his backpack.

“Besides the one we use to climb in here, no.”

“Can we cut it?”

“What? No!” Nikki shook his head. “We will most definitely need it later.”

“But how else are we gonna pack the sleeping bags? We can’t just carry them in our hands.”

“We won’t take them at all,” Nikki made a hard decision. “They are so heavy they will slow us down. I think we’re gonna find more checkpoints where we can sleep. No need to carry these things around.”

“Okay,” Tommy agreed unhappily. “But if we will have to sleep on the ground, I will use you as a pillow.”

“Deal.” Nikki shrugged, arranging the cereals that they had left in his backpack. The Geiger counter was already safely lodged in Mick’s backpack. The plates and the pot, after an exchange of glances and giggles, went into Vince’s. Still, the backpacks weren’t even half-full. They had to carry less, sure; but that wasn’t nearly enough for them to survive on for more than a couple of days. They needed to find the next checkpoint, and fast.

“By the way,” Nikki pulled out the pack of ibuprofen, “I found this in the shop. Maybe it will help with the pain.”

“Gimme,” Tommy livened up. There were ten pills in the pack, one of which he immediately swallowed without water. Nikki doubted it would help with a sprained ankle, but maybe it would reduce the inflammation or, at least, work as a placebo.

They were done with packing, but Vince and Mick still hadn’t returned, so Nikki pulled out the comic book he picked up at the shop. He wasn’t really following recent trends, so he had no clue who “Mr. Miraculous” was, but the cover promised a fight with alien robots, so Nikki was sold.

The superhero turned out to be a complete downer, though, the wanting-to-save-the-world-for-the-sake-of-being-good type. The leader of the alien robots was much more relatable, despite being both an alien and a robot: the Earth for him was a big landfill with lots of spare parts, and humans were pretty much the same as animals to him – just organic material, no matter sentient or not. By the middle of the book Nikki was actively rooting for the robots.

He almost missed a pencil marking on the bottom of a page where the leader of robots was telling the tied-up Mr. Miraculous about his evil plans.

Don’t go to the basement, it said in a messy, familiar handwriting.

Nikki almost dropped the comic.

“T-bone!” he called Tommy, who choked on dry ramen he was quietly munching on in the corner of the room. “Come look at this!”

“What’s that?” Tommy raised the book to his eyes to see the text. ”An interesting comic?”

“Yes, extremely interesting,” Nikki pointed at the note. “Look at this.”

“Holy shit,” Tommy’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you read it earlier?!”

“You suggest I should have read it right in the flooded abandoned building? They should have written that on the cover if they wanted to warn us!”

“You wouldn’t have noticed even if it was written on the wall,” Tommy teased him, swiftly jumping back to avoid a kick in the ribs that followed. “Too late for us, unfortunately. Gimme the book!”

Before Nikki could say a word or defend his property, Tommy snatched the comic from his hands and began leafing through it feverishly. Soon he discovered another note.

Aim for the eyes, he read out loud. They looked at each other in confusion. “With what to aim?”

“A gun, I suppose,” Nikki suggested hopelessly. “Which we don’t have.”

“Maybe it was there in the shop? And you just haven’t noticed it?”

“You think I’m blind or what? There wasn’t any guns around,” Despite being pretty sure he hadn’t yet began seeing things that weren’t there – or not seeing those that were – Nikki still tried to recall everything he saw in the abandoned shop, from his first step through the door. Nothing even slightly reminding a gun came to mind, though. Of course, he didn’t check the basement thoroughly, being in too much a hurry to save his ass, but it would hardly be put there, or they would have no chance of recovering it at all. Following video game laws, that was. Nikki still hoped there was something regulating this shitshow.

“But if there’s a mention of a gun here, then we are supposed to find it, right?” Tommy wondered. “It should be nearby. We must have missed something. Have we checked all the boxes?” He dropped the comic on Nikki’s knees, dove into the pile of dusty boxes in the corner and began rummaging in them.

“I doubt that, but enjoy yourself,” Nikki carefully picked the comic up and flattened the pages. He checked the rest of the book, but there were no more notes on the margins. Mr. Miraculous won, by the way, to Nikki’s disappointment.

Tommy found nothing in the boxes, only began sneezing from all the dust. He didn’t give up, though, limping around the basement in circles looking for clues, the light of his flashlight jumping around, making Nikki dizzy.

“Isn’t your leg hurting?” Nikki asked in despair, covering his eyes with his hands as the flickering of the flashlight launched an army of colorful circles across his vision. “Just sit down, for God’s sake!”

“I’m nervous,” Tommy explained guiltily, but did land his ass on a sleeping bag. Soon enough he began bouncing his leg, avoiding Nikki’s furious gaze. Nikki knew how agitated Tommy could get when nervous; he needed to let some of that nervous energy out, but today Nikki had no patience left for him. Thankfully, soon they heard rustling outside, when Vince and Mick dragged away the metal sheet and looked down into the hole.

“You ready?” Mick asked. “We found a cart, even with all the wheels present. Tommy’s getting a luxurious ride today. Let’s get out of this place.”

Nikki already grabbed the rope when he remembered something important.

“Give me the flashlight!” not waiting for Tommy’s agreement, he snatched the flashlight out of his hand. Then Tommy, together with confused Vince and Mick, watched Nikki roam around the basement, murmuring something and running his hand over the walls.

“He’s gone crazy from all the stress,” Mick sighed. “Sixx! What are you doing? Do you want us to become food for that spider?”

“I’m trying not to!” Nikki replied from the farthest corner of the basement. “C’mon, they should be here… aha!”

“What – they?”

“The wires!” Nikki turned to them, smiling from ear to ear. “Look at the computer! There’s a wire going down into the basement under the table. And then I found this in a book,” he waved a piece of paper with the password in the air. “I don’t think it’s here just to collect dust. I mean, it does collect dust, but it’s not here- jeez, you get me. Hey, Vinnie! You’ve worked as an electrician before, right?”

“Perhaps,” Vince replied carefully. “Although I have to ask you once again – why didn’t you tell us about the password?”

“I should’ve?” Nikki frowned. “I wanted to check if the computer works before telling you. It would be useless otherwise.”

“Really?” Mick tilted his head in disapproval. “And you just decided not to bring up a possible stash or a plot point? What if you forgot about it? What if you got killed by the creature? We would never even know there’s something!”

“So you care more about this hypothetic stash than my life?” Nikki said bitterly.

“I care about our survival, idiot! And you’re actively trying to kill us all!”

“Now, you two, stop that immediately.” Vince gently pushed Mick back and waved at Nikki when he opened his mouth to reply. “I’ll take a look at those wires. Nikki, light, please.” He climbed down into the hole and walked towards Nikki, squinting in the dark.

“Yessir,” Nikki pointed the flashlight at the fuse box on the wall. There was a switch next to it. Vince checked that the switch was in the “off” mode, opened the box and reached inside it without a second thought or a single safety precaution, making Nikki sweat nervously. What if he overestimated his competence?

“Hey, that’s not safe! What if they’re live?”

“Trust me, dude,” Vince shook his head nonchalantly, “I switched the power off, I know what I’m doing. Let’s see…” he began untangling the wires. Every time his fingers inched a little bit too close to the bare parts Nikki lost a bunch of nerve cells. “They’ve just been cut – see their continuations sticking from the bottom? I guess we need to connect the wires of the same color – except the yellow-green ones, don’t touch those if you don’t wanna fry your brains out. The rest doesn’t require deep professional knowledge to fix, though.”

“How do you know if anyone did fix it?” Mick once again spoiled the moment. This time, Nikki didn’t even want to strangle him for that – the question was actually reasonable.

“How do you know that they didn’t?” Vince’s positivity was both relieving and alerting. It took a single look at the creature for Nikki to realize that was no longer a simple quest, but Vince was still in the dark. Well, not for long. “And to fix it we need… a soldering iron. Anyone has it by accident?”

“Of course, always carry it in my purse,” Mick rolled his eyes. “You must be kidding, kid. Who the fuck carries a soldering iron around?”

“Well, I dunno, a farsighted person?” Vince seemed offended.

“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Mick sighed exasperatedly. “Do we really need this computer that badly? The sun’s almost at the zenith, we should be legging it from here already.”

“We do,” Nikki insisted. “If it wasn’t important it wouldn’t be here. Also, while you were away we found this…”

He showed the notes in the comic book to Vince and Mick. They examined them for a while, scratching their heads.

“I do think the ‘aim for the eyes’ one is supposed to be performed with a gun,” Mick finally said. “And you figure it’s hidden somewhere here? And the computer is connected to it?”

“Well, where else? There were no signs of a gun in the shop, or I would have spotted it. And the comic book lay right on the counter at the entrance. If that’s not a clue I’m gonna eat my own shit.”

“Please don’t be a clue,” Mick pressed his hands together in a mocking praying gesture. “I’d love to watch that. But you’re probably right,” he grew serious again, “as much as I hate to say that. Vince, you sure you can’t do anything with those wires?”

“Without a soldering iron, probably nothing,” Vince shrugged. “Although… T-bone! You still have your lighter?”

“Yeah,” Tommy handed it to him hesitantly. “You sure it will work? It’s just a lighter, after all.”

“The wires need to be heated up to connect together,” Vince explained. “The lighter’s emitting heat at about 700 degrees. For the wires to connect, if they’re made from tin and lead, 370 is usually enough. For those without tin it’s more, about 500, but still should be enough. Guys, I need someone to hold the wires while I’m soldering them together. Nikki, your job is to hold the flashlight. Anyone else?”

“Sit still, drummer,” Mick waved at Tommy who rose from the floor. “I’m doing it. What are the odds I’m dying a horrible death from electric shock?”

“I switched off the power, so pretty low. But we can’t know for sure the switch regulates the power, so there’s definitely a possibility,” Vince ‘assured’ him. “I can hold the wires if you’re so scared.”

Nikki couldn’t help but smile. That always worked like magic. Mick grasped the wires tighter, determination on his face. Tommy rose on his tiptoes and hopped behind them on one leg trying to look over their shoulders, but to no avail – the three of them were standing very close, obscuring the fuse box from him. Vince ignited the lighter and brought the little flame under the first wire.

Ages seemed to have passed before Mick swore quietly.

“They’re getting hotter. How much more?”

“Almost there. Press them together now.”

“Oh shit,” Mick murmured. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me…”

“Chill, old man,” Vince patted him on the shoulder. “You can let go now.” He pulled at the wires, but they stayed connected. “Of course, there’s oxidation… but we don’t need it done nicely or for long, just done. You ready to tackle the next one?”

“As ready as ever,” Mick said through gritted teeth. “Bring it, electrician.”

Slowly, the next wire submitted to the lighter, and the remaining two after that. Nikki didn’t know how much time they had left until dusk, but he could feel every second go by with his skin, more acutely as time passed. What if he was mistaken? What if there was going to be an empty safe with only a “tricked you” note and dust inside? He would let them all down, again, and he couldn’t handle that.

“Done,” Vince said, checking the last wire. “Sorry, Mick, today is not the day you’re riding the lightning. Shall we go check?”

They climbed out of their shelter, flinging their half-empty backpacks onto their backs. Nikki sent a farewell glance to the potbelly stove and the sleeping bags. They might not find anything as comfy until the end of the quest anymore.

They gathered around the computer, hesitating to push the turn-on button.

“Who wants to?..” Nikki began.

“Lemme?” Tommy said from behind their backs. He might have felt left out when they were working with the wires, so the three of them silently agreed he deserved the honor. They parted to give him way like the sea in front of Moses. Tommy’s finger hovered over the button for a while, tension in the air so tangible Nikki could almost sculpt snowballs out of it . What if it’s not working, what if it’s not-

Tommy’s finger fell on the button. Nothing happened at first, and the tension grew so heavy Nikki could barely breathe, as if he was drowning. Then, thank god, the screen lit up with a “loading” on it.

They all heaved a sigh of relief.

“Please, enter the password,” the screen then said.

“Go ahead, Sixx.”

Nikki typed out the password with shaking fingers, checking every number thrice. The screen darkened for a second, making them exchange anxious gazes. The computer buzzed loudly – damn, that thing was ancient - before finally showing a menu.

“Unlock safe” was the only option on it. Nikki pressed Enter. A lock clicked somewhere in the room.

“Where is it?!” they all jumped up. “Did you hear where the noise came from?”

They spread throughout the room, digging into rubbish in the corners. Nikki looked around, wondering where to start. Where could the safe be hidden? The table was bolted to the floor, so moving it was out of question. The drawers were still empty besides a dead rat, and none of them had a false bottom, Nikki checked. Nikki’s gaze fell on the bookshelf. Surely those books wouldn’t mind him rummaging in them a little bit. Not that it could hurt them more than they already were.

He began pushing the books off the shelves and tossing them into a pile in the corner. The others, having found nothing, watched him doing it in silence. It had to be somewhere in the bookcase. It had to. It-

“Here we go,” Nikki said softly. Something metal glinted behind a book he had just taken off the shelf.

“Found it?” The others ran up to him like pigeons to breadcrumbs, pushing and swearing. Books flew off the shelf and onto the floor. Behind them there was a safe – a small metal box with a lock. The door opened with an ear-grating sound.

Nikki slowly slid his hand inside, as if afraid it would be cut off in a gruesome way like in horror movies. But there were no traps. Just something cold and metallic. A gun.

Upon closer inspection it turned out to be a simple Glock and a spare magazine – originally for 17 bullets, but there were only six left. Nikki turned it over carefully in his hands, caressing the barrel with his fingers. It was light and cool upon touch, although what Nikki thought to be metal at first turned out to be plastic.

“Fucking finally!” Mick said with feeling and before Nikki could utter a word snatched the gun out of his hands. Checked the barrel and the magazine, swiftly and professionally, which made Nikki recall that Mick, unlike the three of them, once served in the military. “I personally only handled a Glock a couple of times before, but I think I still would do it better than any of you,” he said almost apologetically – if Mick and an apology could ever be in the same sentence - to the three disappointed faces turned to him. “It’s a real weapon, not that laser bullshit we used in other quests. And we don’t want to waste the bullets, right?”

“Hey, at least let us touch it!” Tommy voiced their indignation, supported by Vince’s resentful noises, and Mick had to surrender the precious item to their inspection, providently not inserting the magazine inside it until it returned back to his hands.

Then he turned to Nikki. “Have to hand it to you, Sixx – our chances against your monster just grew quite a bit. Now, let’s get the hell out of here!”

[seaofghouls]

DSMP FALLS! <1>

Ah! Summer break! A time for leisure, recreation, and taking her easy.

..Unless you're me.

A pair of triplets crash through a billboard with a go-kart. "AAAAAHHH!" Being followed by a monster of unimaginable horror. "It's getting closer!" One of the triplets cried. My name is Y/N. The boy to the right of me about to puke is my triplet brother, Tubbo, while the boy to my left screaming profanities is my other triplet brother, Tommy. You may be wondering what we're doing in this situation. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. "Agh!" Y/N screamed. "This monster is such a bitch!" Tommy cried. "Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. Rest assured, there's a perfectly logical explanation!

... Let's rewind. It all began when our parents decided we could use some fresh air. They shipped us up to Gravity Falls, Oregon, to stay with our great uncle in the woods. "This attic is amazing! Just look at all of my splinters!" Tubbo cried. "..And there's a fucking goat on my bed." Tommy sighed.

Tubbo walked up to the goat.

"Hey, new friend! Yes, you can keep chewing on my shirt!" Tubbo giggled. Y/N giggled as well. Tubbo and Tommy seemed to look on the bright side of things. I, however, was having a bit of a harder time getting used to our new surroundings. "Boo!" "Aagh!" Y/N jumped up from their spot from under a tree. An old man took off a mask and started laughing. And then there was our great uncle Schlatt. That guy. Our uncle had transformed his house into a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack. The real mystery is why anyone came. And guess who had to work there? Y/N sighed, sweeping the floor. Tubbo reached out to touch something in this gift shop before Schlatt slapped his hand away.

"No touching the merchandise!" He said. Tommy snickered and touched it anyway out of spite. It seemed like it was going to be the same routine all summer, until one fateful day.

"Alright, look alive folks! I need someone to go hang up these signs in the spooky part of the forest." Schlatt said. "Not it!" The triplets said at the same time. "Also not it." Ranboo said. "Nobody asked you, Ranboo." Schlatt said. "I know and I'm comfortable with that." Ranboo smiled. "Niki! I need you to put up these signs!" Schaltt said. "I would.. but I can't.. reach." She trailed off. "I'd fire all of you if I could." Schlatt sighed. "Okay, let's make it eeny, meeny, miny, you." Schlatt pointed at Y/N. "Yes!" Tommy and Tubbo exclaimed. "Awe what? Gruncle Schlatt, whenever I'm in those woods I feel like I'm being watched." Y/N said. "Oh, this again." He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, something weird is going on! Just today, my mosquito bites spelled out beware!" Y/N said, showing schlatt their arm. "...That says bewarb." Schlatt said. "Look kid, the whole monsters in the forest thing is just a local legend. Drummed up by guys like me to sell merch to guys like that." Schlatt pointed at a guy distracted by a schlatt bobblehead. "So quit being so paranoid!" Schlatt said. ... "Ugh, Gruncle Schlatt. nobody ever believes what I say." Y/N groaned as they hammer signs in the forest. They hammer another tree but stop when they hear metal. "huh?" They hit it the hammer again in curiosity. Finding a secret door with a machine inside, they mess with the buttons for a bit before something opens up behind them. "What the.." Reaching into the hole, they find a dusty old journal. They brush it off and start reading. "Woah.. trust no one, huh?" Y/N mumbled. "Hello!" Tubbo exclaimed. "What are you reading, some nerd book?" Tommy asked. "Uh-uh, it's nothing!" Y/N exclaimed. "Uh-UH IT'S NOTHING!" Tommy mocked. "What, are you seriously not gonna show us?" Tubbo asked. "..Let's go somewhere more private," Y/N said. ... "It's amazing! Gruncle Schlatt said I was being paranoid, but apparently, Gravity Falls has this secret dark side!" Y/N exclaimed. "WOAH!" Tubbo exclaimed. "SHUT UP!" Tommy pushed Y/N with a grin on his face. "Get this! After a certain point, the pages just stop! Like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared!" Y/N exclaimed.

The doorbell rang. "Who's that?" Y/N asked. "Welp, time to spill the beans! This guy's got a platonic date!" Tubbo grinned. "Platonic??" "Date??" Schlatt walked in as Tubbo came back in with someone. "Hey family, I want you to meet my new platonic boyfriend!" Tubbo exclaimed. "Sup." He said. "Hey." Y/N and Tommy said. "How's it hanging?" Schlatt finger gunned. "We met at the cemetery. He's really deep." Tubbo smiled. "..What's your name?" Y/N asked. "Normal.. Man!" He groaned out. "He means Norman." Tubbo giggled. "..Are you bleeding, Norman?" Tommy asked. "..It's jam." Norman said. Y/N stared at him in suspicion before Tubbo dragged Norman away. There was something with Norman that wasn't right. I decided to consult the journal. Y/N read the journal out loud. "Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes.. these creatures are often mistaken for.. TEENAGERS?!" Y/N exclaimed. "Beware Gravity Falls' nefarious ZOMBIES?!" Y/N gasped. "Zombies??" Tommy gasped. He was sitting there with Y/N. "Tommy, outside!" Y/N exclaimed. "Oh, no! Tubbo!" They both yelled. Norman lurched towards Tubbo, grabbed him, and put a flower crown on him. "Daisies?? You scallywag!" Tubbo gushed. "Is our brother dating a zombie or are we just going nuts?" Tommy muttered. "It's a dillema to be sure." Charlie said. "Agh!" Y/N jumped. "I couldn't help but overhear you guys talking to yourselves in this empty room." Charlie explained. "Charlie, you've seen Tubbo's platonic date, right? He's got to be zombie!" Y/N said. "Hm.. how many brains did you see the guy eat?" Charlie asked. "Zero.." Y/N sighed. "Look, dudes, I believe you. I'm seeing strange thing in this town all the time. Like, the mailman, I'm pretty sure that guy's a werewolf. But! You gotta have proof, or else people will think you're a major cukoo clock." Charlie said. "As always, big C, you're right." Tommy said. "My wisdom is both a wisdom and a curse." Charlie said. "Charlie! The toilets are clogged again!" Schlatt called out. "I am needed elsewhere." Charlie took off. Y/N and Tommy decided to work together to get some evidence. Throughout their studies, Norman certainly had strange behavior, but not enough to convict him of anything supernatural. "I'll talk to Tubbo, don't worry, sib!" Tommy said. "Alright." Y/N nodded. ... Tommy walked into the triplets' shared room. "Tubbo, we've got to talk about Norman." Tommy said. "I know! Isn't he great?? Look at this smooch mark he gave me!" Tubbo turned his head to show a large red area on his face. "Egh!" Tommy cried. "Hah! Gullible. It was just an accident with the leafblower. That was fun." Tubbo laughed. "No, listen, Tubbo! I'm trying to tell you that Norman is not what he seems! The journal that Y/N found!" Tommy insisted. "You think he might be a vampire?? That would be awesome!" Tubbo gasped. "Guess again, big T! A zombie he is!" Tommy said. "A zombie?? Not funny, Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. "I'm not joking! Y/N can agree, it all adds up! The bleeding, the limp, he never blinks! Have you noticed that??" Tommy exclaimed. "Maybe he's blinking when you're blinking." Tubbo suggested. "HE'S GOING TO EAT YOUR BRAINS, BIG T!" Tommy shook Tubbo. "Tommy! Listen to me. Norman and I are going on a date tonight and I'm going to be adorable! He's going to be dreamy! And I'm not going to let you and Y/N ruin it with another one of your crazy conspirices!" Tubbo kicked Tommy out. "Ah man.. what am I gonna do??" Tommy slumped against the door. Someone sat down next to him. "How'd it go, bro-bro?" Y/N asked. "He's refusing to listen.. He kicked me out." Tommy sighed. Y/N frowned. "Not surprising. Hopefully he'll come to that realization in his own." ... The two out of three triplets were sitting on the couch, looking over the footage. "I guess we don't have any actual evidence, huh?" Y/N sighed. "Yeah.. I guess we can be kinda paranoid sometimes-" Tommy stopped. In the footage clip, Norman's hand fell off and he put it back on. "WAIT WHAT?!" Tommy and Y/N exclaimed. They leaped off

the

couch in a hurry. "WE WERE RIGHT! HOLY SHIT!" Tommy exclaimed. Racing outside, the two tried to find their uncle. "GRUNCLE SCHLATT! GRUNCLE SCHLATT!" Y/N called out. Schlatt wasn't paying attention.

"Wait! Niki has the cart!" Tommy suggested. "Good eye, Tommy!" Y/N grinned. "Niki! Niki! We need the cart to save our brother from a zombie!" They ran up to her. "Try not to hit any pedestrains." She winked, giving them the keys. "Alright, Tommy! Let's go save our sister!" Y/N grinned. They backed up before Charlie stopped them. "Dudes! This is for the zombies." He handed them a shovel. "Thanks." Y/N grinned, "This is in case you see a pinata." He handed them a bat. "..Thanks?" Tommy said. "Better safe than sorry!" He called out. Tommy and Y/N sped off to find their brother. They heard screams and drove to the direction of the sound. "LET'S GO!" Y/N exclaimed. "Get his arm there, Steve!" Tubbo was struggling against several gnomes. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" Tommy exclaimed. "Tommy! Y/N! Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes! And they're total assholes!" Tubbo cried.

"Gnomes..? We were way off." Tommy mumbled. Y/N flipped open the journal. "Damn.. no weaknesses." They sighed. "Hey! Hey! Let go of my brother!" Y/N demanded. "This is all one big misunderstanding. Your brothers not in any danger! He's just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our king for all of eternity!" The lead gnome explained. "Give him back right now, or else, prick!" Tommy demanded. "You think you can stop us, child? You have no idea what we're capable of!" The gnome went on a tangent before Tommy scooped him up with the shovel and tossed him to the side. Y/N used that chance to free Tubbo, dragging him back to the kart with Tommy. "GO GO GO!" Tubbo exclaimed. "I wouldn't worry about it. See their little fucking legs? Those pricks are tiny." Tommy smirked. Tommy stopped when they heard the noises of a creature. A giant gnome creature, to be exact. "Damn." Tubbo said. "MOVE! GO GO GO!" Y/N screeched. The giant creature chased them through the forest. Gnomes launched onto the kart. "Agh!" Tubbo exclaimed. "GET OFF MY FACE!" Y/N cried. "I got you, sib!" Tubbo punched the gnome, while also accidentally punching Y/N several times before the gnome let go, revealing new bruises on Y/N's face. "..Thanks bro.." They winced. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. They crashed into the back of the Mystery Shack. They were officially cornered. The triplets hugged each other in terror. "W-where's Gruncle Schlatt??" Y/N asked. "It's the end of the line, kids! Tubbo, marry us before we do something crazy!" The lead gnome ordered. "There's gotta be a fucking way out of this.." Tommy muttered. "I gotta do it." Tubbo decided. "What?!" The other two triplets exclaimed. "Tubbo, are you crazy?!" Y/N asked. "Trust me." Tubbo said. "..What??" Tommy gasped. "Trust me, just this once, guys." Tubbo said. The two hesitated and then nodded. "Alright, Jeff. I'll marry you." Tubbo stepped forward. "Hot dog!" The lead gnome climbed down to Tubbo. "You may now kiss the groom." Tubbo said after the lead gnome put a ring on his finger. "Well, I don't if I do!" The lead gnome grinned, puckering up. Tubbo took that chance to hit him with the leafblower that was left outside. "Agh!" The gnome screamed. "That's for lying to me! That's the breaking my heart! And that's for messing with my siblings!" Tubbo shot the gnome off into the forest and the rest of the gnomes scattered away. As the triplets walked back into the Mystery Shack, Tubbo stopped them. "Hey, Y/N, Tommy, I'm sorry. You two were really just trying to look out for me." Tubbo sighed. "Oh, don't be like that! You saved our asses back there!" Tommy smiled. "I guess I'm just sad that Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes." Tubbo sighed. "Hey, look on the bright side! Maybe the next one will be a vampire." Y/N giggled. "You're just saying that." Tubbo giggled, punching their shoulder. "..Awkward triplet hug?" Y/N suggested. "Awkward triplet hug." Tommy and Tubbo said together, the three of them in a hug. ... "Yeesh, you three get hit by a bus or something? Hahah!" Schlatt laughed. The triplets ignored him. "Hey, um,, I accidentally overstocked some items, why don't you three take something?" Schlatt said. "What's the catch?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "The catch is do it before I change my mind, now go!" Schlatt said. The triplets grinned at each other. Tubbo picked out a grappling hook, Tommy picked out a music disc, and Y/N picked out a a hat with a bat symbol on it. ... This journal told me that there was no one you could trust. But when you go up against an army of gnomes with side by side with two people, you realize they probably got their back. "Tubbo, can you get the light?" Y/N asked. "You got it, sib!" Tubbo shot the grappling hook at the light. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Tommy rolled his eyes. Tubbo and Y/N giggled. Our uncle told us there was nothing strange about this town, but who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked? -------

[crystalirises]

The Child of Anarchy

TechnoDad + Sondy :D

TW: Child Abandonment, Hybrid Issues, Violence, Blood, War, and Major Character Death

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/76698542

“It’s only for a day, my little champion.” Techno watched as Wilbur helped Fundy sit down on the carpeted floor, the fox hybrid whining as he reached up his arms towards his dad. His twin sighed, moving towards where Techno stood, as he lugged a heavy bag around his shoulders. Techno took it without so much as a word, his frown etched onto his face as Wilbur looked up at him apologetically. His ears twitched, flicking down as he noticed his twin’s trembling hands. In another time, he would have reached down and helped Wilbur calm himself, but today wasn’t that time. Wilbur handed him the bag, murmuring apologies underneath his breath before heading back towards a whimpering Fundy. The fox hybrid tried to jump into Wilbur’s arms, deterred by Wilbur moving away, his twin flinching as Fundy got near. Wilbur ran a hand through Fundy’s hair, “I’ll be back. I promise. You’ll stay with Uncle Techie until then, alright?”

“Noooo, I want papa!” Fundy tugged at Wilbur’s hand, growling as Wilbur pulled away. His twin moved across the room, pausing at the door frame that connected the living room to the front hall. Techno gathered his nephew in his arms, the fox hybrid screaming at him to put him down.

“It’s just a day, Fundy. I’ll be back before you know it. Then… we can do whatever you want to do, alright?” Wilbur smiled down at his son, hand reaching out before pulling away. Techno held on to his nephew tightly, barely wincing as Fundy began to claw and bite at his arms. He’d felt much worse pain than what a child fox hybrid could inflict. His twin moved his gaze to him, that smile still playing on his lips. Techno wished it were gone. “You can take care of him, right?”

“Better me, than you.” The words were low, unwelcoming as he took a step back from Wilbur. His twin flinched, but he didn’t even try to come back. Wilbur took a step back, and then another, until he was out into the hallway. There was a pain in Wilbur’s eyes, his hands rising and falling as if he didn’t know what to do. “Wilbur. If you step out that door, I expect you to一”

“You know me, Techno. I’ll be back before Fundy begins tugging at your hair.” Wilbur gave him that ridiculous lopsided smile, the one that he’d give Techno when they were kids… Techno watched as his twin turned on his heel, footsteps thumping down the hall. He heard the door creak open, but he didn’t hear it close. With a squirming Fundy in his arms, he followed Wilbur to the hallway. The sun was setting outside, the night already making its presence known by the cold breeze that flew in from the open door. Sunlight blended into Wilbur’s brown hair and yellow sweater, casting him in a warm golden glow that reminded Techno of home. “Tell Phil I’m sorry for the short notice, I know I should have written a letter before… I’m sorry, Techno.”

“You shouldn’t apologize to me, Wilbur.” Techno, despite the voices screaming at him to yeet Wilbur out the door, placed Fundy down on the ground. The fox hybrid wasted no time in clinging to his dad’s leg, Wilbur wincing as Fundy’s claws dug into the cloth. Techno stood there, motionless as Wilbur finally forced himself to kneel in front of Fundy. He could hear his twin’s whispered promises, the hope that he was vowing as he pulled the child into an embrace. His nephew didn’t know any better, giggling as he wrapped his arms around Wilbur, asking Wilbur to get him this and that and that he’ll be waiting for him to come back. He felt something sting at the back of his eyes, though Techno would never admit to himself what it was.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, my little… c-champion.” Wilbur ran a hand through Fundy’s hair before standing up. He walked out, casting Fundy one last smile before closing the door behind him. Fundy began to whine, Techno immediately picking him up as he let Fundy cry into his shoulder.

He held onto his sobbing nephew until the fox hybrid fell asleep and the sun had dipped in the distance. He stood by the door for what felt like hours, consoling Fundy each time the kid woke up in a fit of tears. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there before he finally turned around.

The house felt colder and emptier than it had before. He wished that Phil had been home, then maybe it wouldn’t have come to this. He let out an angry huff, holding the fox hybrid tightly in his arms. Fundy nuzzled closer to him, purring when Techno ran a hand through his disheveled ginger hair. He made his way to his bedroom, placing his nephew on the mattress before settling on the chair nearby the bed. He sighed, placing his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure what to do now. Phil would know what to do. He would’ve stopped Wilbur from leaving. He would’ve done something more than just stupidly stand there and listen as Wilbur continued to spout lies.

He ran a hand through his hair.

He needed to be strong, but how could he be?

All he could do was pray and hope that Wilbur came back…

But no, Wilbur never came back.

He’d never come back. Not for Phil. Not for Techno. And not for Fundy.

---

“Did you miss me, my little champion?” His nose crinkled at the endearment, teeth baring against the man who had emerged from what smelt like a den of stone and dust. The stranger in front of him wore a dark brown trenchcoat. It nearly hung off his shoulders. He was lanky, dark circles beneath dark eyes that looked like they’ve seen too much for one lifetime. A hand darted out towards him, long fingers marked with callouses that looked too much like they came from an instrument than any sword. He backed away, clinging to his dad’s long red coat, a sharp growl rising in his throat. “Now, Fundy. Don’t you recognize your own dad? I missed you so much!”

“You’re not my dad!” He clung tighter to his real dad’s leg, wishing that his dad hadn’t taken them to this strange and foreign land. He wanted to go back home to grandpa! He felt a hand scratch the back of his ears, his dad glancing down at him with a smile. “He’s my dad, not you!”

The stranger froze, eyes blown wide before an accusatory look appeared in them. Fundy huffed, ears pressed against his head. He didn’t like this man at all! He was weird. He was about to beg his dad for them to go home when a familiar face showed up behind the stranger. A giddy smile appeared on his face, tail wagging happily before he lunged himself forward. “Uncle Tommy!”

His uncle seemed confused, but he didn’t try to push him away. Fundy clung to his arm, glad to see that there was someone familiar in this strange place. His dad looked over at him, a small smile on his face, though it quickly disappeared when the stranger barked out his dad’s name. He felt his sharp claws unsheath themselves, teeth gritting tightly. But before he could lunge himself at the stranger, his dad put up a hand. He whined, stomping his foot against the ground. He didn’t like it when people disrespected his dad. He wanted to bite and claw at those people until they apologized, but his dad always stopped him. It wasn’t fair! He was just defending his dad!

“Tommy, can you take Fundy inside? Wilbur and I have to talk.” His dad looked over at his uncle. Fundy frowned. He didn’t want to leave his dad with this stranger. Plus, Wilbur was a stupid name, hearing it made him want to bite something - preferably a chicken. He felt hands on his shoulder, his uncle flashing him a grin before leading him inside the hut. He looked around, eyes adjusting to the darkness. There was a set of stairs that led down into the earth, the stench of dirt hitting him. His uncle was trying to lead him down, but he took a moment to look back. The door to the outside had been left open and he could see a glimpse of his dad behind the man called Wilbur. His dad looked calm, but he could tell from the glint in his eyes that he was furious. He followed after his uncle, wondering if Wilbur would still be alive in a few minutes.

With Technoblade, he wasn’t quite sure how to explain to his estranged twin brother as to why Fundy couldn’t seem to recognize him. His brother was pacing in front of him, a manic look in his eyes that Techno tried to ignore. Wilbur had been fine when they arrived, all smiles and kind charisma… until he had tried to talk to Fundy. He cursed, knowing that he should have left his son with Phil. He had wanted to, but he didn’t want Fundy to think he was being abandoned. It took years for the fox hybrid to realize that “his dad” was never coming back, and another few years until Fundy had completely forgotten about Wilbur. He couldn’t bring himself to put Fundy through that pain again. He could only pray that Wilbur didn’t get any bright ideas about making his son fight in this revolution he was planning. Techno brought Fundy here for one reason and one reason only. He wasn’t going to hurt Fundy like Wilbur did. He was a better person than that.

“My son doesn’t remember me...” He looked up, surprised to find tears running down Wilbur’s face. He looked like a broken man. Techno couldn’t bring himself to care. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” He snapped, hands curling against his side before relaxing. He would not argue with an unstable man. Wilbur stumbled towards him, a hand reaching to cling to the collar of his shirt. He raised a brow, wondering if his twin was trying to intimidate him. If so, he was doing a terrible job. Techno could even hear the voices telling him to punt Wilbur. He snorted, prying those cold fingers away from him. It’d take more than that to scare him. His brother gazed up at him, a familiar gleam in his eyes - a look of utter betrayal. Techno rolled his eyes, stepping back to give himself a bit of space. He couldn’t think with Wilbur being that close. “I cared for him. I raised him. I trained him. I held him each time he cried, wondering why you left him.”

“He calls you dad…”

“That’s what I am to him.” His twin brother bristled, face curling into anger. Techno stood his ground, giving his twin a harsh glare. He hadn’t asked to be a father, neither did Wilbur but at least one of them stayed to actually do the job. Wilbur’s hands curled into fists, and Techno didn’t miss the way that Wilbur reached to his right, as though reaching for a sword that wasn’t there. “You abandoned him. I took him in. Do you blame either of us for moving on from you?”

“A piglin hybrid can’t raise a fox hybrid.”

Techno laughed, a low and threatening chuckle that sounded more like a growl than a laugh.

“Wil… You’ve forgotten what you told me all those years.”

He stepped closer. His twin stepped back.

“Don’t you remember? ‘A human can’t raise a hybrid.’ You said it… now live with it.”

---

“FUNDY!” He flinched, turning around to face his very furious dad. His dad had small scratches on his arms, blood caking his skin - though Fundy knew it wasn’t really his own. Before he could explain himself, another explosion rang out behind them, the earth shaking beneath their feet. He felt the adrenaline in his veins, the rush of war filling him with excitement and a sense of adventure. His dad sighed, running a hand through his dirt-covered ginger hair. Fundy knew he was going to get in trouble for being out in the warzone, but he couldn’t help it! It looked so fun! They were tearing down Manburg, after all! “I told you to wait for me. Why are you out here?”

“I wanted to join the fight!” He looked down at his blood-stained claws, feet tapping against the ground impatiently. He still wanted to chase someone down. “I can fight, dad! Let me fight!”

His dad let out a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What do we say?”

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!” He yipped happily, tail wagging behind him as he darted away from an approaching wither skull. Smoke and dust broke through the air, causing him to cough and close his eyes. By the time he opened his eyes again, his dad had moved closer. A sword was in his hand, bloodied and dripping with the ichor of his enemies. There was an exasperated look on his dad’s face, but he could only grin up at him. Of course Fundy knew that wasn’t what his dad had wanted to hear, but he had wanted to say it. “Please. Please. Please一”

“Okay, okay! Try not to die, pipsqueak. I’ll see you after the fight.” His dad patted him on the head before jumping back into the fray. Fundy stood there for a moment, marveling at the way his dad gracefully cut down his enemies. He hoped he’d grow up to be like his dad someday. His thoughts were caught off when he heard another explosion, dust tinging the air, his dad’s form disappearing into the chaos of the battle. He turned on his heel and ran in the opposite direction, laughing and jumping past the holes that decorated the earth. No one tried to chase after him, most turning their heads each time Fundy sprinted past them. He wasn’t sure which prey he should pursue. They all looked so fun to chase down… He could feel warm and sticky blood drip down from his claws, his first victim being a stranger who wore a flower crown on their head. He wasn’t sure if they were a king, but they wore a crown so that means they probably were one.

From the corner of his vision, he caught a shadow darting away from the wreckage. They were shouting his uncle’s name. He looked at the stranger for a moment, recognizing them as the new president of… well, the big crater they were standing on. His teeth curled up into a wicked smile.

His tail wagged behind him, claws itching to dig into skin. He wouldn’t kill, just maim. His dad didn’t want him to kill… unless it was out of defense. Blue eyes met him across the field, those eyes widening in fear before the stranger turned around and ran. Fundy liked a good chase. He sunk low to the ground, letting his energy return to him before pouncing across the field. There was still some semblance of distance between him and his prey, but foxes were faster than rams, after all. His legs propelled him forward, the distance between him and the ram hybrid growing smaller until he could almost hear his prey’s ragged breathing. He smiled, and then he pounded. The person beneath him screamed, trying desperately to push him away, but Fundy stayed where he was. Fundy looked down at his hand, smiling sharply before letting his claw plunge down.

His claws dug into warm skin, the splatter of blood hitting him on the cheek. He had merely grazed the ram hybrid’s shoulder, a long gash that would need a lot of bandages to cover up. The new president screamed, light blue eyes turning completely gold - looking exactly like how a ram’s eyes are meant to be. The world suddenly blacked out, his back hitting the ground. His head was aching. He looked up, the ram hybrid had forced himself to his feet, clutching at his own head. The child president looked down at him for a few seconds, before turning around and disappearing back into the warzone. He touched a hand to his head, wincing. He had been headbutted. That was okay. He’d chased down his prey in the end. He’d won the game of chase.

As he waited for the numbing pain to subside, he looked around at the devastation around him. In the distance, he saw a familiar pair of inky black wings. He yipped in surprise, “Grandpa!”

Despite the pain in his head, he forced himself to stand, making his way towards the hill where his grandpa stood. He hadn’t seen his grandpa in two years, and Fundy wanted to tell him about all the trouble he and his uncle Tommy had caused. His tail wagged happily behind him, his joy disappearing when he finally reached the bottom of the hill. His grandpa was hunched over, hat covering his face. He could hear his grandpa screaming at… Wilbur. Fundy hadn’t seen the strange man since that morning when he had taken Fundy aside and tried to talk to him. He still didn’t like Wilbur. He was mean and he didn’t like his dad. Everytime Fundy was in the room with both of them, they’d only argue. Wilbur was very insistent that he was Fundy’s “real dad” but that wasn’t right. He didn’t even know who Wilbur was. He didn’t even like Wilbur. He watched the scene play out, gasping when his grandpa lunged forward, a diamond sword in hand.

He turned away.

He didn’t need to look back to know that Wilbur was dead.

He ran back into the battle, intent on finding a new victim to chase.

Yeah… he needed someone new to chase.

… He didn’t know why he was crying.

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

Clarification: Wilbur abandoned Fundy because he didn't know how to raise a hybrid son. Also, Fundy was raised by Techno here so he thinks Techno is his dad cause Wilbur abandoned Fundy when he was young. Fundy is also more in tune with his hybrid instincts since Techno trained him to use them to his advantage. He is also kind of a child by this point... so his look of war? Kinda childish since all he knows of war is through Techno's stories... He thinks of it as a game, really. As for the 'A human can't raise a hybrid', that conversation happened away from the first part of this fic. Like a private conversation that Wilbur and Techno had since Wilbur couldn't bring himself to say that in front of Fundy.

Also... I'm sorry Eret and Tubbo ;-;

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 4,369

Chapter Warnings: swearing, references to past child abuse (regarding c!Tommy)

Chapter Summary: In which Schlatt is his own brand of irritating, Wilbur and Tommy talk a bit but not about everything, and they make their way to Dream’s prison cell.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Five: hide your soul out of his reach (i)

“You’re stalling.”

“I’m what?”

His response is automatic, comes spilling out before he truly registers that someone has spoken to him, much less who it is. So when he looks up and locks gazes with Schlatt, the annoyance bubbles up quickly. He’d been sitting quietly, in a relatively secluded area near Tommy’s house, thinking about nothing in particular and everything all at once, and he’d felt settled. Peaceful. His mind quiet.

So much for that.

“I thought you’d fucked off somewhere,” he says.

“And deprive you of my company?” Schlatt shoots back. “You wound me.”

“I wish I could,” he mutters. He glances away, staring off into middle space, hoping that maybe, Schlatt will go away if he pretends very hard that he doesn’t see him. No such luck, and he sighs. “What am I stalling about?”

“Dream,” Schlatt supplies. He strides closer, then kicks off into the air, drifting aimlessly in a seated position. The sweater still looks odd. Too soft, when the man in front of him is anything but. “You said you were gonna go see him.”

“And I am. Just not yet.”

Schlatt snorts. “What’s keeping you?”

He frowns. Meets Schlatt’s eyes again, and finds no sympathy there. A bit of hard amusement, at best. Not that he was expecting anything else.

“Tommy’s going to want to come with me, when I go,” he says. “But I don’t want him near Dream.”

Schlatt makes a sound that’s more mocking than understanding. “Right, Tommy,” he says. “Where is the kid? I’m surprised he left you alone in the first place.”

“Tubbo went back to his town. Snowchester, I think they said it was called.” There is an undefinable melancholy that fills him at the thought. Even now, after everything, they are still trying to make a home. Still trying to carve some corner out of the world and make it theirs. Or Tubbo is, at least. He’s no longer quite sure what Tommy wants. “Tommy went with him.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shakes his head. Tubbo said that there were other people who lived in Snowchester, when he asked. Jack Manifold, for one. Maybe a couple of others. Captain Puffy, maybe? Either way, to go with them would have been to invite the possibility of meeting people, and every cell in his body cringes away from that idea. He’s not ready for that just yet. If ever.

(you’ll have to face them eventually, will have to stand your ground against the hatred in their eyes, burning and so well-deserved, shattered fractals of a people you used to belong to and did your best to destroy)

(you’ll have to face them eventually, and yet you hide)

“Tommy said he’d be back later,” he says. “He doesn’t live there. In Snowchester.”

“So here you are, waiting for him.”

“I suppose.” He frowns, shifting in place where he’s sitting on the ground. He brushes his fingers against the grass, absently pulling up a flower or two. “It’s not as if there’s not time. We can wait until Tommy’s not quite so—” He trails off here, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Not quite so what? Not quite so traumatized? Trauma doesn’t work like that, doesn’t go away within the span of a few days or weeks. He knows as much, though he used to be content enough to ignore it

(when he was the one causing it)

back in the old days, when there was no choice otherwise, when there was no chance of rest.

“Well, aren’t you considerate,” Schlatt says, and Wilbur looks at him sharply, because that was definitely snide. Schlatt stares right back, brows lifted, smirking. “Waiting for your little brother to be a little less broken. How kind of you.”

He bristles. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“I’ll talk about him however I want,” Schlatt says. “What are you gonna do, shout at me? Play some shitty music? Please. But all I’m saying is that a few days isn’t gonna make a difference, and you know it. You’re stalling to make yourself feel better, to try and convince yourself that you’re better now, that you’re not gonna hurt him anymore.”

His mouth goes dry. “I’m not—” He shakes his head again, as if trying to dislodge the idea. “It doesn’t matter right now, anyway,” he says. “He’s in Snowchester. He’s not here. There’s nothing to do until he gets back.”

“Oh my god, just comm him,” Schlatt says. “Tell him you’re going over to the prison. Do it now, and you can leave before he decides to go with. Win win.”

“I don’t—” He furrows his brow. He doesn’t have his comm. He’s not sure where his comm is. Except—

For the first time, he thinks to check the pockets of his coat. The first couple turn up nothing, but then, in the third, his fingers wrap around a sheet of thin, hard plastic. He freezes for a moment, and then draws the communicator out, holding it loosely in his hand. A tap on the screen, and it lights up, just the way he’s used to.

It doesn’t make sense for him to have this.

Schlatt leans over his shoulder and whistles.

“Daddy’s worried about you,” he says, and Wilbur blinks, pulling up his unread messages. There shouldn’t be any, shouldn’t be any at all, because he can count the number of people who knows that he’s back on one hand. And yet, there is one, and perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised at the identity of the sender, but he is.

Philza whispers to you: don’t mean to be pushy but could you let me know you made it to smp lands safe?

He has to read the message several times before its meaning sinks in, and once it does, he’s not sure how to feel about it. It doesn’t particularly read like Phil wrote it; it’s too hesitant, too apologetic. But Wilbur remembers what Phil looked like, standing in that kitchen, wingless and so very cautious, flinching away from his words as if they were physical blows. And in the end, letting him go, even though it was plain as day that he would have liked nothing more than to keep him there.

He’s angry with Phil. For a lot of reasons. But then, he’s angry at the world, too. Angry at himself, most of all.

(and there is so much of him that just wants someone else to swoop in and fix things, just wants his dad to make everything better in a way that he hasn’t since he was a kid and the first fracture formed, splitting their family apart, and as much as he is angry there is a large part of him that just wants to go back to that house and sink into his father’s arms and learn how to call a place home again)

“You gonna answer?” Schlatt asks.

He ignores him, checking the timestamp. It was sent a few hours after he left the tundra. So, a couple of days ago, now, and there have been no messages since. Perhaps it’s no longer relevant.

He hesitates, eyes tracing over don’t mean to be pushy.

It feels so strange, for Phil to qualify a sentence like that. Like he’s unsure of his welcome. And perhaps he’s right to be.

You whisper to Philza: I’m safe.

“Touching,” Schlatt says dryly. He scowls, trying to bat him on the arm or push him away or do something, but his hand goes through, and Schlatt just smirks some more for his efforts. “Now do Tommy.”

He puts the comm down on his lap, turning to face Schlatt fully. “Why are you being so fucking insistent?” he demands. “You’re a ghost, you can go by yourself. Through the walls and shit, since apparently you get actual ghost powers.” Ghostbur didn’t get ghost powers. He recalls that very clearly, because Ghostbur was immensely disappointed by this. For once, he agrees with the shade.

“And do what, look at him? Like it’s a fucking zoo? Watch him twiddle his thumbs and chuckle evilly to himself? Not exactly my idea of a good time,” Schlatt says. “I don’t know if you forgot, but nobody can see me. Hell, for all you know, I’m not even real. You could be making me up.”

He tries to brush the comment off. It hits just a bit too close to home

(whispers in shadows and enemies around every corner, people watching and staring and plotting against him, and no one else can see, Tommy can’t see, but that’s alright, he sees enough for both of them, and he will have his victory, and if he cannot have that, then nobody can and there is laughter, laughter, laughter)

for his comfort.

“If I were making you up,” he says, “I would simply stop.”

“Cute,” Schlatt says. “Do you wanna know what your problem is? Your problem is that you’re scared of people seeing you for what you really are.”

His hands clench.

“You say you don’t want to hurt Tommy? Fine. I even believe you,” Schlatt continues. “But don’t act like you’ve come back to life and suddenly you’re some saint. You’re fooling yourself, Wilbur. People like us don’t change. You can put on as much of a shine on the outside as you want, but scratch that paint off, and you’re still the power-hungry asshole who blew up a city as a hissy fit.”

His mouth works for a second, wordless.

“Fuck you,” he snarls, and scoops up his comm again.

You whisper to TommyInnit: I’d like to visit the prison today

“Was that so hard?” Schlatt asks.

“Fuck you,” he says again. “And fuck off. Or I swear to god I’ll figure out a way to exorcise you.”

“Please do,” Schlatt says. “I’d thank you for it. But sure, have it your way.” He shrugs, looking completely unconcerned. “I’m never too far.” Then, he disappears, and there is a shimmer of blue in the air, and even that fades away, and Wilbur is left alone and feeling no better for it.

“It wasn’t a fucking hissy fit,” he says to the empty space. There’s no one left to hear him, no one left to justify himself to, but

(it wasn’t a hissy fit it was desperation and fear and wild abandon and a surging, terrible victory and a fire in his chest driving him onward and he relished in it, relished in the freedom and the power and the control and he was the villain, he was the villain and he was good at it, he was the villain and he loved it, he was the villain and everyone else paid the price and he didn’t pay at all so what happens now, what happens to the villain back from the grave what happens)

he’s not wrong. Not about this.

TommyInnit whispers to you: ok

TommyInnit whispers to you: i’ll be back soon

TommyInnit whispers to you: dont leave without me or your a bitch

He doesn’t leave without him.

He should. Should venture on to the prison by himself, to spare his brother the effort. But in the end, he can’t bring himself to do it. Can’t bring himself to go it alone. Perhaps it really is pathetic, but he wants to have someone by his side when he starts revealing himself to the rest of the server.

It’s certainly selfish. But he’s never claimed not to be.

They don’t meet anyone on the way. Wilbur doesn’t understand why, not when the sun is shining brightly and they’re walking the established path, matching each other stride for stride,

(there was a time when he would have walked behind you, would have trailed on your coattails, would have looked to you for direction and guidance and look at him now, look at who he has been made into, a child who should not have to be as grown as he is but there is no changing it now and he really is someone to be proud of, isn’t he?)

but they run into nobody, and those vines are fucking everywhere.

“Why hasn’t anyone cleared these?” he asks, more to himself than anyone else. “They’re a fucking eyesore.”

Tommy snorts. “You don’t need to tell me,” he says. “They’re ugly as hell. But there’s this Egg thing, see, that BadBoyHalo and a couple of others are all constantly going on about, and those vines come from it, I think. I don’t see what all the fuss is about, personally. I mean, it’s just an Egg. Can’t be all that great. But BadBoyHalo swears by it.” He pauses. “Well, he doesn’t swear. He says muffin by it, I suppose. Still can’t get him to swear.”

“An egg,” he says, and then frowns. “An Egg,” he repeats, and there’s a difference in the way he’s saying it, in the strange emphasis that implies the capital letter. “That’s—vines don’t come out of eggs. They’re not—vines don’t hatch, and eggs aren’t fucking plants.” And then, he remembers— “Techno told me about an egg. Said he thought it was some kind of cult. He didn’t know much else.”

Too late, he realizes what he’s said, and catches the way that Tommy stiffens.

“You’ve been to see Technoblade, then,” he says, and his voice is far too casual to actually be casual. He winces.

“When I—woke up,” he says, “I was really near the tundra. And I remembered where he lived, from when Ghostbur would visit. And I thought that maybe—”

“I mean, you don’t need to explain it,” Tommy interrupts, but his tone of voice tells Wilbur that actually, he really does need to explain it, because there is undoubtedly a note of hurt there, and that won’t do.

“No, no, I do,” he says. “I know you’re not exactly good with each other right now. I’m not really good with him either. But I woke up and it was raining and I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, and I made a list, see? And number one on that list was to get to you. But I was cold and wet and I had no idea what was happening in the SMP because Ghostbur’s memories are patchy as hell, so I thought that Techno could tell me some things so I wouldn’t go in blind and walk into—I don’t know, a nuclear war or something.”

Tommy makes an odd sound at that, like a cross between a cat having a hairball and someone choking on water gone down the wrong pipe. “Nuclear war,” he repeats, in a voice that’s a bit strangled, and his words seem to trip over each other in his rush to get them out. “Right. Yeah, no, none of that here. Nope. No way that could ever happen. Uh, yeah, no, that makes perfect sense.” He stops, and Wilbur is about to ask what the actual hell that was about, when he speaks up again. “Is he—I mean, how is he? Still a fucking crazy arsehole?”

Wilbur looks at him. Tommy does not look back. In fact, he seems to be making a point of looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Still an arsehole. Same old Techno, you know him. Phil, too.”

He doesn’t think he imagines the way Tommy’s shoulders relax at that, just fractionally.

“Right, yeah,” he says. “Good to hear.”

“Tommy—” he starts, and is saved from having to figure out what he’s going to say, because suddenly, he sees it. The prison. There’s no way that it could be anything else. And he has to stop and stare for a long moment, because he’s never seen a build like that before. Not on any server he’s ever lived on. He’s seen some impressive buildings in his life, and he’d like to think that he’s made a few himself,

(walls to keep them safe to protect them and hold them dear and he hasn’t seen Fundy yet, has he?)

but nothing compares to this.

“Who built this?” he breathes. He feels claustrophobic just looking at it, dark walls towering over them, looming, intimidating.

“Sam did,” Tommy says. “He’s the warden, too. But Dream commissioned him, which is what makes it so fucking funny.”

He feels a grin spread across his face.

“Wait,” he says, “Dream’s locked in his own fucking prison?”

“Dream’s locked in his own fucking prison!” Tommy whoops, and just like that, he’s laughing, and they both are, and maybe he can do this after all. He follows Tommy’s footsteps as he leads him to the doorway, to an empty room with a portal frame, and he’s sizing it up, trying to figure out how they’re supposed to get through, when Tommy steps forward.

“Sam?” he calls out. “You here?” And then, to Wilbur: “Sam’s kind of a dick when he’s got the whole warden thing going on, but he’s pretty nice when he’s not working. He’s been a good friend, you’ll like him. Later, I mean. When he’s not being a dick.” And then again: “Sam? Sam, we want to visit Dream!”

“You don’t need to yell, Tommy. I’m right here,” someone says, and there is another person in the room, and every muscle in Wilbur’s body tense because he didn’t see him come in. “I wasn’t expecting—” And then the man stops, staring right at Wilbur, and Wilbur is left to size him up and rack his brain as to whether or not he’s formally met Awesamdude before. He’s been on the server for a while, he knows. Was around for L’Manberg, was a part of the Badlands, was neutral. He’s met him before. He’s almost certain he’s met him before. But there’s no spark of recognition in him, looking at this man, with his full netherite armor and the mask covering the lower half of his face and the green patches that dot his skin.

“Wilbur Soot,” Sam eventually says. “I would assume? Not Ghostbur?”

He regains himself. Inclines his head. “You’d be right,” he says, and then he steps forward, taking his place at Tommy’s side, and he extends a hand. “Sorry, I’m not sure that we ever really got the chance to meet.”

Sam takes his hand, showing only a bit of hesitance. His grip is firm.

“I’d say it’s a pleasure,” Sam says. “I’m not sure if it is or not.”

“You know what?” Wilbur says. “That’s fair.”

“Hm,” Sam says, and it’s hardly approval. But Wilbur is very aware of the fact that they’re standing in the entrance of a prison, a prison that is supposedly inescapable, and that he has definitely, by the standards of the server, committed at least one crime. And what’s more than that, he doesn’t particularly regret it. Not the act itself. The effects it had, maybe. The pain it brought. But in his heart of hearts, he is glad that L’Manberg is gone.

So really, the fact that he isn’t being arrested is a win.

(he thinks, he wonders, what would he do if he was, if he was locked away in the dark and the walls loomed all around him and the sun was a distant memory and ah, he thinks, no, I would rather die, and then the imagined prison becomes Pogtopia, shadowy and dank and every sound echoing off the stone, melancholy and abandoned, and he wonders what it looks like now, now that there is no life in it at all, and he wonders if it is haunted with the ghost of who he used to be, if he left some important part of him behind to shrivel into dust)

“So, I assume this is a recent development?” Sam asks. He’s being very calm about this, which Wilbur appreciates. But then, they were never close. Were never connected personally. The real tests still lie ahead.

“Couple of days,” Tommy says cheerily. “We’re taking it slow.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” Sam says, and Wilbur blinks, because it’s a joke. Someone feels familiar enough with Tommy to make the comment, and likes him well enough to make it playful.

That’s—good? He thinks it’s good? Probably? Yes. Good. Tommy has friends. Good.

(he doesn’t need you. not really. he wants you, for some godforsaken reason. but he doesn’t need you)

“Oi, I can be slow,” Tommy says. “I can be the very slowest. I am excellent at being slow, I’ll have you know.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Wilbur says, and Tommy gapes at him, looking back and forth between them with a dawning expression of betrayal.

“Oh no you don’t,” he says, stabbing a finger at both of them. “I didn’t introduce you so that you could go ganging up on me. That’s just not right. I changed my mind, Wilbur, you’re not allowed to like Sam. None of this bullshit.”

Wilbur laughs, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed at all. He’s ribbing his little brother, and there’s even someone else here for support, and it’s not Techno, but that doesn’t seem to matter so much. The motions are familiar, the words an old pattern.

“You’re here to see Dream, right?” Sam says, and just like that, the illusion shatters. And the smile is gone from Tommy’s face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we are.” He hesitates. “We can both go in together, right? Because I’ll tell you right now, nothing else is going to work. We’re a package deal, me and Wil are.”

Sam tilts his head. “No one’s ever tried to visit with someone else,” he says. “I don’t see an issue with it, as long as you both pass security.”

This is relieving. But Wilbur’s a bit more concerned with the way that Tommy’s hands have begun to shake. Just slightly, barely enough to see.

“Good,” Tommy says. “Wilbur, there’s so much security, it’s honestly ridiculous. There’s a bunch of checkpoints and lava and you have to put all your stuff in a locker and get splashed with potions, and oh! There’s wavers, too, you’re going to have to sign a bunch of shit.”

“Great,” he says. It’s not great. It sounds nerve-wracking, in fact. But if Tommy can do it, so can he; he’s just a bit worried that Tommy can’t do it. Or rather, not that he can’t do it, since he’s done it before, apparently. Just that maybe, he really, really doesn’t want to do it. That maybe, it will not be very good for him to do it. That maybe, he’s putting himself through this for Wilbur’s sake, and hasn’t Wilbur just established that he doesn’t want to hurt Tommy anymore?

(but the past echoes forward into the future and there’s no way around it now)

But they’re here, and he’s not going to be able to get Tommy to turn back, and he’s not sure that he would even if he could, because his nerves are all shot and he doesn’t want to be in this dark prison without an ally. So Sam guides them through the checkpoints, and there are indeed a lot of wavers, and a lot of splash potions, and Tommy has to put all of his things in a locker. Wilbur pulls up his inventory, certain that he doesn’t have anything on him, still, but he’s not entirely right about that; he must have kept the flowers he was pulling up earlier, because he’s got about five cornflowers in one of the slots.

He puts them in a chest, and ignores the startled look that Tommy shoots him when he sees. He’s not sure what that’s about. They’re just flowers.

The walls are too close. The shadows too dark. The crackle of lava too near. Tommy is putting on a front, chatting at Sam more than he is with him, and to his credit, Sam puts up with it with easy acceptance. But Wilbur knows that a front is all it is, because his smiles don’t reach his eyes, and he knows how Tommy sounds when he’s talking for the sake of hearing his own voice.

This may, perhaps, be a mistake.

(you can’t let him near Tommy don’t let him near Tommy not after what he did to Tommy don’t you know can’t you remember how can you be letting this happen after what he did Tommy shouldn’t be anywhere near here but now he is and you brought him and what kind of a brother are you)

But he has questions he needs to ask. And he hasn’t forgotten his list. His goals.

If there is anything he can do on this server to make it better, after everything he’s done, let it be this.

“Alright,” Sam says, “call for me when you want to leave. Make sure to walk with the bridge.”

And then the curtain of lava falls, and there is a moving platform, and Tommy is deathly still by his side, and there is the cell, and there, in the cell—

Dream.

He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit. A prisoner’s outfit. But he’s kept his mask, stark-white and smiling and laced with spiderweb-thin cracks. His mouth is visible, canting upward into a slight smile, one that mimics the black paint. He stands at their approach, and then they’re stepping into the cell, and Wilbur lets his hand land on Tommy’s shoulder, to steady him and to steady himself.

“Oh, fuck,” someone says, and it’s not him, and it’s not Tommy, and it’s not Dream, and it sounds faint and far away. The living aren’t the only ones in this cell, then. He hopes that Schlatt has the good sense not to be too distracting.

Dream takes a step forward. Under his hand, Tommy stiffens.

“Hi, Tommy,” Dream says. “It’s good to see you.” It’s directed at Tommy and Tommy alone, like Wilbur’s not even there at all, Dream’s mask tilted toward toward him, toward the kid that he manipulated and abused, and Tommy is trembling and Dream has no fucking right to address him like that, so soft and friendly, and Wilbur—

—sees red.

[pandoraborn]

Cruelty of the Beast, part 7

( previous. )

Characters: c!Ranboo, c!Tommy Word count: 1685 words Content: whump, mention of hypnosis, confessions, Ranboo and Tommy have a bonding moment, talk of apocalypse, tommy calls Ranboo out for his hypocrisy

-----

They’re finally left alone. Ranboo is unable to make eye contact with Tommy, which seems fine, because Tommy isn’t looking at him either. There’s a shift though, an unspoken understanding of the situation they find themselves in. It’d already hit before, but now there seems to be something heavy between them.

Ranboo focuses on the food on his plate. It’s nothing special, a slab of pork and scrambled eggs. It’s not like Dream and Wilbur are starving them, nor depriving them of a warm bed, a warm home, and general comforts, but Ranboo still doesn’t like this place. He doesn’t like knowing what he’s helped plan in the past, what he helped put Tommy through.

When he forces himself to look in Tommy’s direction, Tommy’s staring at Wilbur. He can’t decipher the expression on the other teen’s face, but it’s a far cry from troubled. He has to wonder what Wilbur told Tommy today.

“Hey,” Ranboo mutters. He looks down at his plate, cutting into the pork slowly. “Are you okay?”

Tommy turns back toward him. In his peripheral vision, he can see a large grin spread across Tommy’s face. He wonders if Tommy is brainwashed somehow, then retracts that thought. There’s no way Wilbur has that kind of power.

Dream’s words come back to him. “I’m not controlling you, I don’t have that kind of power. Wilbur, maybe, but he’s not interested in you, he’s interested in Tommy.” Ranboo shudders at the memory. It’s unlikely that Wilbur was able to pull anything sinister in the one day they’ve all been split up.

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Wilbur and I had a long conversation and he cleared some things up for me.”

“Did he hypnotize you?” Ranboo asks. He hadn’t intended on asking that, and immediately winces. It’s a stupid question; Wilbur’s only human, it’s not like he actually wants to hurt his brother.

“What?” Tommy scoffs. “What are you on about Ranboo?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Not to be...well, okay, I mean to be blunt and offensive, but I’m not you and Wilbur’s not Dream. I’m sorry Dream hurt you, but Wilbur didn’t do anything, we literally just talked.”

“What’d you talk about?”

“You’re awfully nosy, aren’t you?” Tommy sounds defensive. Ranboo lets out a sigh. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m still shaken up, we went out to gather sand and gunpowder. Mostly sand.”

“And?”

“Before I answer, are you going to tell me what you and Dream did today? Did he hypnotize you?”

“No.” Ranboo offers a smile. “He and I literally just talked, as well.”

“Wilbur apologized to me,” Tommy says in a rush. “He said he thought that by dying, he was doing me a favor. He didn’t realize things for me had gotten so bad.”

“Do you believe him?”

“He was crying, Ranboo. Wilbur never cries. He normally doesn’t really talk the way he did earlier. Like, I think he actually meant it when he said we can be brothers again.”

“You trust him?” Ranboo tilts his head. “One conversation is all it takes?”

“You’re seriously getting on my nerves here,” Tommy grumbles. “What did you and Dream do today? You’re on edge for some reason, what happened?”

Ranboo isn’t sure what he’s allowed to say or not say, but then again, he and Tommy are in this situation together. If they’re going to be each other’s only friends, he might as well start being honest.

“Apparently I’ve been helping Dream a lot longer than I realized,” Ranboo whispers. “I’ve been out here before, digging up something for him.”

“Stop being cryptic and tell me what’s going on. Jesus, I’m tired of secrets.”

“Dream and Wilbur want to go to the end,” Ranboo says. “They want some dragon that’s in there. They both want to use us to get it into this world.”

“So...” At least Tommy looks pale. Ranboo’s glad that Tommy isn’t taking this news lightly, it gives him hope that Tommy isn’t completely falling for Wilbur’s...whatever Wilbur is doing. “So what Wilbur said earlier makes sense now.”

“What?”

“What he said to me makes sense. He said when all this is over, and it’s time to let everything go.”

“Tommy, they’re going to end the world. Why aren’t you panicking?”

“Ranboo, I’m fucking exhausted, mate. I’m tired of fighting with people, I’m tired of being used as everyone’s punching bag, and I’m tired, in general. So yeah, I want it all to end. I’m a child and I’ve already lived through more than everyone even cares about. Dragons aren’t ideal, and of course I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but I don’t have anything to go back to.”

“What about Tubbo? Or Puff-”

“Tubbo’s got you, and Puffy has a life outside of me. No one needs me. You’re the one who has something to lose in this. If you want to sneak away, I won’t stop you, but I’m not going with you.”

“Tommy, you know this is classic villainy, right?” Ranboo swallows.

“Tell me more about what you did. Do you know what you helped Dream out with? What was it you dug out?”

“Oh.” Ranboo looks down again. “I dug out a hole that leads straight to a lit end portal. Apparently, I helped put you in this position. From exile, to being trapped in the prison, and now this.”

“So you call me wanting to stay with my brother villainy, but you helped hurt me, and you somehow don’t see the hypocrisy here?” Tommy laughs sardonically. “That makes us both villains, Ran.”

“Tommy I’m sorry.”

“Save it. I’m not going to hold it against you forever, I just want you to really think about this. You can’t sit on a moral pedestal and call the rest of us out when you contributed to my death.”

Ranboo falls silent as he reaches back behind him. He grabs the book Dream gave him earlier and wordlessly hands it over to Tommy. “Read the last page,” Ranboo mumbles, as his only response.

Tommy does, flipping through the pages silently until he reaches the last page. He reads the common words carefully; Ranboo can see his eyes flickering back and forth as he studies what’s written. After what feels like ages, Tommy finally looks up, handing the book back.

“So you knew.”

“Tommy, I had no idea.”

“You knew,” Tommy repeats firmly. “You fucking knew the whole time what was going on. You knew that Dream and Wilbur were working together, you knew that Wilbur was coming back, and you fucking knew about the dragon. You knew!”

“I don’t remember! I swear I don’t remember this!”

“What do you think Tubbo’s going to say if this falls into his hands? What do you think Puffy and Sam and Quackity are going to say? You knew. They’re not going to buy memory loss this time because this is your handwriting. Including the ender bits.”

Ranboo’s shoulders slump. Tommy’s right. He hates that Tommy’s right. The proof is literally in his hands, and destroying it isn’t going to do much either, because now Tommy knows.

“We have to warn Tubbo.”

Tommy points the tines of his fork in Ranboo’s direction. “We can’t tell them. We’re here now, and regardless of how you or me personally feel about this situation, we’re not getting out of this. Personally, I’m past the point of caring, and I know some part of you, whether you remember or not, wants this. Instead of marrying my best friend, you should marry your unconscious self and come to terms with this.”

Tommy is smart. Ranboo knows he’s smart, and Ranboo also knows Tommy’s right. It only contributes to how smart the stupid ass is. Ranboo can’t remember though, it’s like some part of him is blocked. After what he’d seen today, Ranboo can feel that mental wall in place, and he doesn’t know how to access it. Neither does Dream, apparently.

“I don’t know how to remember,” Ranboo admits. “I don’t know how to access those memories.”

“I can smack you upside the head with a brick,” offers Tommy with a snort. “Seriously. You were talking about hypnosis earlier, maybe it can be used for good instead of evil.”

“I don’t want to be evil.”

“Think it’s a little late for that, bud.” Tommy doesn’t sound angry, at least. Ranboo had expected Tommy to yell and storm off, but he’s still sitting by Ranboo, and now offering help. He doesn’t understand this.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Why should I be? Because you helped Dream? Wilbur quoted Lord of the Rings at me and I fell into his arms sobbing. You could probably offer a hug and I’d burst into tears. This is how fucked I am.”

“I feel the same,” Ranboo admits. He forces out a short laugh. “Dream was admittedly really nice to me.”

“He can be your friend then. I don’t want him anywhere near me for awhile.”

“We’re both really fucked up, aren’t we?”

“Yeah man, that’s the conversation we’re having. We’re fucked up because we’re considering helping the two strongest villains of the server launch an apocalypse. If that doesn’t scream fucked up, I don’t know what does.”

“Tubbo...” Ranboo shakes his head. “I have to see him one last time at least.”

Tommy looks over his shoulder. The two adults are engaged in quiet conversation, and they look as if they’re falling asleep. Tommy looks around the cabin and spots a couple of potions in the corner. The color tells him they’re potions of weakness.

“Not tonight,” he whispers. “Another night, soon. We can drug those two and I’ll help you sneak out for the night. You can meet up with Tubbo, I’ll even give you a note from me. But it’s all gotta be before sunup, because I don’t want to lose Wilbur’s trust and faith in me, alright?”

Ranboo nods. He’s apprehensive about this whole thing, but he’s also strangely reassured with the vague knowledge that everything will be okay.

He doesn’t know why he’s feeling that now, though.

Huh, must be a missing memory trying to surface.

[fuckingthefictional]

All I want- (part one)

Michael Gray x reader

Written version of this gifset that I made, bonus points for anyone who can find the lyrics to a certain song that inspired this.

Next Chapter is found —> here

For @finallyforgotten who wanted more of this :)

Henry used to be Y/N’s knight in shining armour. He was always there, he was perfect and filled her up with all the love that she could possibly want or need.

He used to tell Y/N that she was a star in his eyes, he’d hold the door open for her and hold her hand in the dark.

He was just always there.

And Y/N felt as if she was never alone. Until one day she was.

When Henry suddenly left, it caused a brewing storm to swirl inside of the pit of the young woman’s stomach.

But when Y/N brought it up with her mother, the only claim was that “men like Henry were perfect on paper, but they lie to the face.”

It frustrated her- did Henry think she was the kind of girl who needed to be saved. Is that why he took such interest in her? Because she was an easy target?

All of these questions just created more stress and sadness to strike Y/N’s body. She didn’t know who to trust or believe anymore.

It didn’t matter what she conjured up in her mind- All that stood was that Henry had left and with him he took Y/N’s heart.

But he’d left something with her, something that he didn’t know about. And that was his child- the same child that grew within Y/N.

“Ticket ma’am?”

Y/N looked up from her book to see a portly looking train conductor stood in front of her.

“Yes, sorry.” She reached down to her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper, handing it to the gentleman.

He inspected it for a moment, before puncturing a hole into the side, “Are you sure you’re meant to be taking a single to London miss?”

Y/N’s heart leapt up into her throat, “Yes, my mother purchased the ticket for me, I’m to meet my cousin at the station.” She rambled on.

The train conductor passed the slip of paper back, “if you say so.” He mumbled before walking away.

It was only half true, Y/N mused, she was meeting her cousin at the station and her mother did purchase the ticket for her. But she was going to London indefinitely, to have her baby out of the prying eyes of her neighbours.

As her father said before she left, ‘she and her cousin could be the family disgraces together’.

Y/N watched as the world went past, flashes of green melted into a drab mix of greys.

Her new life was moments away, as the train pulled into King’s cross station.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N heaved down her luggage (careful to avoid her stomach region) and began to disembark off the steam engine.

She scanned around frantically, praying that she hadn’t been stood up by her cousin.

“Y/N!”

Whipping around at the sound of her name, she came face to face with her older cousin.

James, wasn’t much older than she was. He was a few years older than she (but he took great pride in bragging about it and holding it over her head).

In fact it had been a good few years since Y/N had even seen James, as he was banned from the family when he was 17.

After he was caught in bed with another male- it meant nothing to Y/N then and nothing to her now.

He was happy, if he found love in the arms of a man then who was she to judge? - she was 17, pregnant and unmarried.

“James!” The pair embraced, swaying as the did so.

“Come on,” the man exclaimed, “we can talk more when we get home.” And with that he picked up the luggage and guided her through the station.

~

“So how come you’ve suddenly decided to come and live with me hmm?”

Y/N paused, debating on what to say but ultimately deciding that there was no point in hiding it at this point.

“I’m pregnant.” She spoke, “and father is ready to disown me so, they sent me to you.”

“Jesus Y/N/N you’re 17,” he rubbed his face with his hands, “You’re practically a child yourself.”

Y/N felt her body shake, “you know if I had a bobbin for every time someone has said that to me, I’d be a fucking millionaire,” she laughed without humour, “I’m going to be a mother james, and every single time someone says what you said, I become more determined to be a good mum.”

“Y/N sit down for a second and stop ranting.” James pointed opposite to the chair she’d previously been occupying, “What I was going to say was that you’re young, so you’re going to need all the support you can get. Which is why I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”

-

Months later, Y/N was nearing the last month of her pregnancy.

It wasn’t an overreaction to say that she was big. She felt like a bloated whale.

But the young mother found herself getting support from both James and Ada.

God, Y/N was so thankful for Ada. She was the most genuine, caring and hardworking woman that Y/N had ever met.

They’d become great friends ever since they had first met.

The older woman was understanding, but not disconcerting. Loving, but not in a smothering sort of way. Supportive and just damn genuine.

Ada became like the older sister she never had growing up, and the latter was but all happy to take on that role.

She was the one that Y/N could confide in- even about Henry.

“What about the father?”

Y/N looked down, tears already pooling in her eyes, “He’s a boy from my past.” She sniffled,”We fell in love but it didn’t last.”

Ada looked sympathetic, “What happened?”

Y/N found herself shrugging, “It was just like- the second I figured it out he pushed me away,” she steadied her voice, “And I won’t fight for love if he won’t meet me half way- I won’t do it Ada. And I say that I’m through with him, but here I am talking and crying over him.”

Y/N looked at her friend who seemed to be waiting for her to carry on, “All I want it a good guy,” she stated, “Are my expectations far to high? Is there something wrong with me for wanting that?”

Ada just leant forwards, placing her hands on top of Y/N’s shaking ones, “Look- I’ve been through all of these questions. There’s nothing wrong with you okay- I mean look at you Y/N,” she pointed at the other girl’s body, “You’re trying your best at the end of the day, you’re not alone, you have me, Karl, James and Your own child and that is enough for me. You should be proud.”

It was through Ada that Y/N met Thomas Shelby for the first time- which at the time she hadn’t known but would become her future employer.

What was there to say about Thomas Shelby. He was intimidating, he demanded the power of the room. And his eyes- God his eyes. They were piercing blue and just made you cold by looking at them.

The first time Y/N had met the man, she swore she could feel her child squirm inside her, almost as if they were turning away in comfort.

But Ada soon set the record straight, reassuring her brother that Y/N was trusted by her and that the younger girl was a close friend.

The second time that Tommy and Y/N ran into each other was quite literally so. Y/N had been going out for walks (something recommended by her doctor), she was due any day at that point.

She’d been walking in her own little world, fantasising about what her child would look like. Whether they would have Henry’s unruly curls or her eyes.

And then she walked into a wall. A rather tall, slim wall. That spoke with a Brummie accent...and wore a pocket watch.

It was by then that Y/N had realised that it wasn’t actually a brick wall she’d stumbled into. But in fact Thomas Shelby.

Immediately you had stuttered an apology, explaining why you had been so out of it.

He took one look at you. A quick up and down. Before he spoke, “When’re you due?”

The answer caught Y/N completely off guard, she had been expecting a threat for scuffing up his shoes.

“Um, actually I’m due any day now.” She stammered, rubbing her belly lovingly. It was strange really- just how quick she’d grown to love the life inside of her.

The Brummie hummed in understanding, “I remember when Ada was that far along with Karl- a right bloody firecracker she was.”

Y/N smiled slightly, it sure sounded like Ada.

“Listen- Ada would ‘ave my bollocks on a silver platter if I didn’t walk you back to the ‘ouse,” Tommy licked his lips, “So.” He gestured to the arm he was holding out.

“Thank you Mr Shelby.” Y/N said, holding on his arm as they walked the last few streets.

“Tommy- call me Tommy.”

-

Matthew James Johnson was born kicking and screaming on the 14th of February at exactly 2 o’clock in the morning.

He weighed in at 6 pounds and 4 ounces and was everything Y/N could’ve ever imagined or hoped for.

As predicted Matthew held a head full of soft, blonde curls (just like his father) and his eyes were her own Y/E/C. He was just the perfect little mix of her and Henry.

And even though it broke her heart at first, she eventually began to see it as a blessing. Her baby was someone who she would love forever, who she would never let down.

-

A months later Y/N strolled into the apartment angrily. She was turned out of a job, yet again. It felt like it was becoming an impossible feat.

She was simply just unemployable, which angered her hugely.

Y/N was a mother for Christ’s sake, she had a baby who depended on her. How on earth was she supposed to do that for someone if she couldn’t even get a steady stream of income coming through the door.

Matthew was around 8 months old now, he was a troublemaker- but still managed to capture his mother’s heart at every glance. He made Y/N’s life worth it, he really did.

Slamming the large door behind her, she shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the coat rack. There was another that had been added to the normal pile.

Ada’s family must’ve been visiting again. She quietly crept through the hallway, attempting to stay out of the eyes of the Shelby family.

It would’ve worked mind you- if Matthew hadn’t spotted you through the crack in the doorway.

“Ma-ma-ma.” He babbled happily from the floor.

Y/N walked in almost guiltily, scooping up her baby boy from the carpet and planting a soft kiss on his rosy red cheeks.

Ada stopped mid conversation and looked up at Y/N hopefully, “So?”

“Turned away.” The young mother answered frustratedly, “It getting tiring now Ada, I-“

“Ada love, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” The voice came from a stern looking woman.

“Pol,” Ada turned the woman, “This is Y/N- James’ cousin and a close friend of mine.” She turned to the girl who was still holding the wriggling baby, “And this is Matthew, Y/N’s baby boy and my godson.”

Polly was stared intently at the boy in Y/N’s arms. The stare itself was calculating and judgemental but Y/N felt...oddly safe around the woman.

“He’s a beautiful boy,” She spoke softly, “reminds me of my Michael when he was this size.”

Y/N just smiled awkwardly, she had no clue who Michael was, she cleared her throat, asking timidly “Would you like to hold him?”

The older woman opened her arms for the child, and when Matthew was safe in them he gurgled happily.

The door creaked open again, this time Tommy walked through the frame.

The pair had actually become quite good friends of the past months. There was nothing romantic, or remotely sexual about their relationship. It was just a friendship.

Tommy was an the older brother, he kept and eye out and looked out for the girl and her son.

“Y/N.” He nodded to the girl, “When did you get in?”

“Just now,” she replied, “Job interview ran over.”

“And?” He prompted, hand digging in his blazer pocket for a cigarette.

“No smoking around the children Tommy- you know the rules,” Y/N reminded him, “And it didn’t go well- they turned me away.”

Tommy appeared to be deep in thought, “My fiancé is due to have a baby in May.” He paused again, “If you’d accept- I’d be happy to hire you as the baby’s nanny.”

“But Matthew-“

“Can stay with you while you work, it’s only a matter of balancing your family life and work life.”

“Has your fiancé agreed with this arrangement?” Y/N folded her arms.

“She will, she trusts me- and I trust you.” Tommy looked deeply at you, “So?”

“Okay.” The young woman looked at Ada, “I’ll do it.”

[fandomtrash264]

I have some Fred and George promts that I don't want to forget so imma put them here. If you are interested in writting them, by all means go for it, just tag me. I don't think I have a preference over who is in each scenario. I will probably write George and Fred based on what I thought but they should work with either twin. I do think they are different, im just saying that I could see the story going with either boy

• Reader and Fred pull a prank on George that changes his hair color based on mood. (Red - angry, blue - sad, green - disgust, light pink - embarrassed, hot pink - flirty, purple - in love/swooning, dark purple -lust) The 3 are sitting in the great hall eating and George is staring at reader and his hair turns purple. Reader thinks he has just zoned out and starts to bug him asking who he is thinking about. Leads to confession (and I imagine he is embarrassed so his hair is pink)

• Reader is a metamorphmagus and they like to switch between male and female so they change their physical appearance as such. (I see Fred as bi ngl) Fred gets a crush on the reader without knowing they are both people. A little while later, he falls for the other side (if that makes sense) of them and thinks he likes 2 different people. He is super torn and has no idea what to do

•This one is a Soulmate AU. The one where you can hear the music your soulmate is listening to. Reader is listening to ✨🌶 S p i c y 🌶 ✨ music and he knows its reader and he is shocked because they don't seem like they would listen to it and he is pleasantly suprised to find they are super flirty and such (he is twin of your choice lol)

•Yet again, one of our boys gets pranked. They lie about something that makes reader upset so they prank them so that everytime they try to talk, bubbles come out instead and the only way to undo it is to do somthing super embarrassing (I'll leave that to y'alls imagination's) and they refuse because they are petty but they eventually give in with this big social stunt or smth

•i imagine reader is a Ravenclaw (could really be any) who is the child of Bellatrix and *Moldy Voldy* (why ravenclaw you ask? I'll explain) They are in George and Fred's year so they are older than Harry. Reader was rescued a little before Harry was born and got to stay with someone else (probably Remus or smth. I imagine a gryfinndor so that way the Slytherin and the Gryfinndor kinda cancel out so you get Ravenclaw. Slytherin is their blood but they know its wrong so they push for the good values. I know slytherins can be good [believe me, I am very big on the fact that not all Slytherins are evil] but when its Bella and Mr. Tom, they have some bad bones) and they keep it a secret from their friends (the twins, the trio, etc.) Until Remus brings them to an OoTP meeting. He doesn't say who he just says he is bringing He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named 's child and they are terrified of how their friends will react. Kinda angsty but eventually they all understand that reader isn't evil

• Branching off of the previous, same family situation but when they were younger, they weren't seen as a child, they were a weapon. Trixie and Tommy boy would experiment on them so they are lowkey fucked up. They are super powerful and struggle to control it. Reader freaks out because they are terrified that he will be able to control them or see in their mind and good 'ole Gred and Forge help our reader to feel better and reassure them

• Reader and a twin are dating in 7th year (With Umbridge) and instead of breaking up or telling them about the plan to start a shop, they just leave and break off all contact. Years later they see each other and reader confronts them about how he couldn't even break up with them before leaving and he confesses his worries. Inspired by the song Ways to Break a Heart by Maddie Zahm [you can find it on YouTube]

• Can happen to either the reader or George or Fred but somehow by prank or accident in class, they get separated into different parts of themselves [parts like the 7 deadly sins (so they would be split into Pride and Lust) but also other things work (like Fear and Wonder)] and the other 2 have to deal with it until the problem is fixed

• (I have a lot with the boys and pranks, sorry lol) the boys get de-aged and reader has to chase them around because they are H E A T H E N S but then later on they put them to sleep and the Love Interest (twin of choice) snuggles up to them and mentions how much they love them and reader gives it no mind because "he was a baby". They snuggle and when they wake up the boys are of normal age and the Love Interest just snuggles closer and says something like "I meant it y'know. I really do love you/think you're amazing" and just. Fluff

• (I wrote George, yet again, could work with either) Reader is playing with the sleeve/hem/string of George's sweater/hoodie and he quips with a flirty comment like "you want the whole thing? Here, give it back when it smells like you" and the reader brushes it off as a flirty comment and teases "how am I supposed to know what I smell like? I'm noseblind to myself" and he gives them a scent. The scent seems familiar to them but oh well. They wear it because its soft and it smells like him and later on when they are chilling in the common room or whatever (George isn't there) they realize that's what he said he smelt in his Amortentia in potions last week and they lowkey freak out and go to ask him about it and aaaah! Cute things ensue

• [!!!TW: Depression, suicidal thoughts!!!] Can happen to either reader or one of the boys.(If it happens to a boy i see it being George as he seems insecure of being in Fred's shadow and I will write the prompt that way but it works with Fred and reader as well) George has been a little off recently and reader and Fred can't figure out what it is until reader goes to the astronomy tower late one night and finds George on the roof of the atronomy tower, seemingly fighting with himself about whether or not he should jump off. Angst, ends with fluff, reader helps him to feel better. Inspired by the song Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths

•During their 6th year with the Triwizard Tournament, a durmstrange gent takes a liking to the reader. They start to court the reader and flirt with them, give them lots of compliments, try to show their affection. The Love Interest (again, twin of choice) get REALLY jealous tho and decides to try and out-do the durmstrang boy. This leads to really extravagant methods of flirting (ex. Sending a howler that is actually a shower of compliments or after a big quidditch match, the whole team does a choreographed dance where the suitor sings/performs to reader) all of this leading up to the yule ball. They either go with the durmstrange guy and deal with Love Interest later or they end up going with the Twin, whatever you would like

• Everyone is at the Burrow and they decide to watch a movie. While everyone is in the kitchen, the twin (who is the Love Interest) comes by and says "Oh! Are you guys watching a movie?" Readet replies "Yeah, P.S. I Love you" and he just blushes really hard and sits next to them and says "I love you too". Reader doesn't know how of if they are gonna tell him that "P.S. I Love You" is the name of the movie. Then everyone else comes back in so they have to wait until after the movie to talk about it. The whole time the movie is going all they can focus on are the "I Love You"s that escaped each others mouths. Inspired by a wolfstar text post by @starsandmoonys

• Inspired by the drarry work, Mental by sara_holmes on Ao3 (which you should totally go read like holy shit i love this idea sooooo much) written with George but as usual, can work with either. Reader is in for total shock when a joke gone sour ends with George striking them with a bad Legilimency spell. Due to this spell, they can (and have to) hear each others thoughts and see the pictures in each other's minds. What will happen when they see all that goes on in each others heads? Will they learn to communicate? Will they let one another in? Will they like who they see, or will they be scared away from the thoughts behind closed eyes?

• (TW!!!!: Dreamt character death, War) Fred and reader have been friends-with-benefits for a long time with feelings slowly growing between the 2 of them. They stay in denial until Fred has a nightmare one day where reader dies in the war. The next day he is desperate to hold them and see that they are okay. He confesses his feelings in fear of losing them. Inspired by Woke the Fuck Up - Jon Bellion

• [(TW!!! War) Fred lives] Fred and Reader had a huge fight right before Fred and George left Hogwarts and leave things on a rocky ending. Fred knows just how much he needs Reader and he desperately wants them back. Reader doesn't want to admit it but they miss him.and want him back too. They see each other again after the war and Fred breaks down in their arms and confesses how much he misses them and needs them. How hard it has been without them. Reader reciprocates these feelings and tells him. They start over, slowly building their love up again inspired by Bad Habit - Ben Platt [First verse and Pre-chorus would be Fred's feelings and second verse and Pre-chorus would be Reader. They blend on the 3rd]

• George has been strangely quiet all day. Reader is confused and a little hurt as George seems to avoid them. Leaving rooms when they walk in, not keeping eye contact and staying as physically far as he can. That is until they sit down in the great hall for lunch and Fred tells his friends (including reader) all about having put a truth serum in George's drink and all the funny things he has gotten him to admit. Reader goes to confront George about what he is hiding (because otherwise he would talk to them, right?) And they get an oddly specific but touching confession [ie. "I borrow your chapstick because that is what your lips will taste like" and "I see you in my dreams almost every night" ] inspired by Jenny - Studio Killers

• [Choose whether the person who can dance is reader or Twin of Choice. I will be writting with reader] The yule ball is coming up and reader can't dance to save their life. A certain red-heades friend comes in to help. At first, reader doesn't believe him because "c'mon, why would you know how to ballroom dance?" But they are pleasantly suprised to find they are actually really good at it. Like, REALLY good. "Mum made all of us learn. In case we ever needed it". Reader notices their feelings start to change as they spend more and more sessions together dancing until the yule ball occurs. Take it from there lol

• just a very cliche typical love potion fic. Reader volunteers to be on the receiving end of one of Fred and George's pranks- spike their drink with love potion- on one condition. The person reader will be in love with, knows about it. Reader figures this will allow them some leeway and safety against other pranks. All is going well until they spike the drink for reader to like (twin of your choice) and they realize that nothing has happened except they are a bit more flirty. Everyone is crazy confused because for everyone else they were head over heels swooning and attached at the hip until Hermionie (or somebody else) quips in with "You can't create something that already exists, y'know".

• So this one is less creative and it's also a mix of 2 tropes but bear with me. Reader is a very outgoing flirtatious type of person. They openly flirt with everyone, Fred, Ginny, Neville, Dean, etc. They don't care, its a way they show affection. Then, when they start to get a crush on George (or Fred) they star getting more shy and reserved with him. And he is completely clueless. He's lowkey hurt because "why doesn't Y/n crack jokes like that with me?" And shit like that. He is feeling down when he sees it. No, not 'it', he sees you. You and Fred flirting. He's got you cornered to the wall and your cheeks are flushed and George is big mad. (When really, Fred just cornered them so they couldn't avoid the question and was teasing and asking about their crush on George). George ends up seeing out Y/n, getting them alone and confronting them. Light angst? But ends fluffy as reader explains what actually happened

*im going to keep updating this as I get more ideas so be prepared*

[nowornever13587]

MCYT Oxenfree Chapter 1

Edward’s Island.

Fundy POV

“It used to be a military base. Then it became a ranching thing, then it was turned into an army thing, then it became a bird thing and a museum or whatever. Henry Fonda stationed here, I think, for a bit. Unless he was Navy.” 

I listened to Tommy rattle on as I leaned on the rail of the ship. The salty smell of the ocean filled the overcast sky. But thankfully, it was only slightly cold. Just enough for a light jacket..

“Who’s Henry Fonda?” Eret asked, unaware that you should never ask Tommy questions when he’s explaining things. He had a tendency to not hear them.

“And around Christmas time, this little breakfast place used to sell these amazing polar bear sugar cookies…” Like normal, Tommy went on. I laughed to myself, peering back over the edge of the ferry for wildlife in the water.

“Hey,” Tommy poked me. “Are you still with us? You haven’t said anything for like… 10 minutes.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. My mind just drifted for a second.” I turned back, checking my watch. It was 8. Right on time.

“So, you all moved in?” Tommy continued to talk to Eret. 

“Um, not really. I just got in this morning.” Eret chuckled.

“And how did Fundy’s mom meet your dad again?” Tommy was eager for gossip. 

“They met on vacation in London. He got lost in a garden and thought she worked there.” Eret took it in good humor as we walked back in the boat. 

I took the liberty of exploring the small craft. It wasn’t that old but still had that air to it. Slightly chipped paint and worn seats. How they got worn, I never understood. Only bird watchers and history nuts ever headed to Edward’s island anymore. Particularly not in the winter.

“Hey, there’s an old ship's wheel up here.” I called down to the others from the second story as I bent to read the placard. “It’s a replica from a… Portuguese caravel, it says.”

“Yeah! I think the Portuguese discovered the island? I dunno. I mostly slept through the maritime portion of history class.” Tommy shrugged.

“Says the kid who’s been ranting about the island for the past 18 minutes.” Eret teased. Tommy shot him a teasing glare as I came back down.

“So you guys just met tonight?” Tommy continued.

“Yeah, I was… I’d been out at school and the timing had just never worked out.” Eret shrugged.

“And what does that make you to the Furry? Second cousin or something?”

“Step bro and I am not a furry!” I groaned

“Yeah, yeah! At least you seem cool!” Tommy laughed. “Cool guy, cool eyes. You get a cool new sibling living right in your house! Wearing your clothes… eating your food ... Sharing your toothbrush.”

“Ew!” We both grimaced. The conversation dipped awkwardly.

“So… how do you two know each other?” Eret prompted us.

“Oh, from way back when, like paleozoic. Grade school era.”

“I moved from the Netherlands in the first grade and Tommy was the one I got partnered with on the first day.” 

“Passengers,” Suddenly the robotical intercom kicked on, nearly scaring me out of my skin. “We’ll be arriving soon. Check under your seat-” 

“Check under your seat to make sure you don’t leave behind any grandchildren.” Tommy commented over the recording sarcastically. 

“And if you picked up a complimentary disposable radio, remember to tune to 102.3 at the various plaques…” It droned on.

“Ooh! We should get a picture!” Tommy suddenly stood, dragging Eret and I back to the bow of the ferry. 

“Fine. Just… hold the camera out. Like… far. I don’t look my freshest right now.” I told Tommy as he pulled out his phone. I ran a hand over my ears, trying to smooth down my fur that had puffed up due to the humidity.

“It’s true, Eret. This is like B Minus Fundy.” Tommy grinned.

“Take the picture you child!” I nudged him. 

“I am not a child!” Tommy retorted while holding out the camera. We all smiled as the audible click came from the phone.

“There! Great. I’ll magic erase all the warts out and stuff, so don’t worry.” Tommy checked over the photo.

Eret made a face at the mention of warts and rolled his eyes. 

“Hey, Furry. Did you remember to bring that radio? The little portable one?” Tommy piped back up.

“Yeah.” I sighed, ignoring the comment as I took the object out my pocket.

“Our high school has a radio station and Finn- he’s a friend of ours- he’s filling in because TapL went on vacation with his family or something.” Tommy explained as I began twisting the knob to find the station. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s gonna say something like… basically right now about our thing so…”

We all intently listened to the radio as I found the right station, 88.3.

“... Which I played because Karl wouldn’t stop singing it during math class!” Finn seemed to be talking about the song that was just on. “But… oh! Look at the time! Just after ten o’clock. Which means my dear friend Tommy and his bros are probably just touching down on Edwards island for the yearly bash on the beach…. Or whatever we call it now.”

“But anyways, I promised him that I’d play a song from his channel, so hope you're tuned in, Tommy! Here’s Able Sisters- Sable and Mable from Animal Crossing. He’s been tormenting me to play it for ages so here. Please stop.” 

The familiar song came on. I groaned quickly, shutting it off.

“Haha!” Tommy crowed. “I finally got him to do it!” 

His victory rant was cut off as the ferry’s horn blasted above us. 

“There’s no radio reception on the island.” Tommy continued. “I’m glad I got to hear it before it went totally kaput.”

“If we can’t use it, why’d you bring it? Not just for the boat?” Eret inquired.

“Um, no. You’ll see. Don’t expect too much but… nah. It’ll be fun. I won’t undercook it.” Tommy waved his hands mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

We all shut up as the boat began nearing the dock. The old man running the ship helped us get off, before pulling away again. 

“Oh boy! Smell that clean air, lads! This ain’t city livin’!” Tommy gestured to the now dark heavens. “My other friends should be up around the bend.”

“Actually,” Eret said nervously, waiting at the top of the dock stairs. “I mean, I don’t mean to be the guy to break us up already, but Tommy, could you do me a favor? Can I have two quick minutes with Fundy?”

“Uh… you sure?” Tommy hesitated. I glanced back up at Eret. The older boy seemed sincere.

“Something wrong?” I wondered.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need a minute.” Eret glanced at the street light above.

“Alright, but- Look, I don’t wanna go up by myself. I mean, can’t we just stick together? You’re gonna have all night to say, like… whatever.” Tommy pleaded, using his puppy dog eyes. 

“But you were going to meet your friends, right?”

“Yeah but there further-”

“Tommy, it’s alright. Just wait for us at the end of the town, okay?  We’ll catch up with you there.” I reasoned. 

“Alright.” Tommy sighed, walking off. “Though this is a really strange way to start off, splitting up.”

“Thanks man!” Eret called after him, before turning to me. “He seems nice. Funny.”

“Yeah, he’s… what did you want to talk about? Before I suspect something nefarious.” I teased, coming back to the top of the stairs. 

“Listen, I just wanted to grab you ahead of time and say you’ve been…. Cool… about everything. And I guess it’s just - for me, I’ve never moved anywhere, ya know? And, like, getting a new family at the same time kinda feels like I’m skipping the training wheels.”

“Not that it’s bad! You and your mum have been great!”

“Eh, we’ll make do.” I nudged Eret playfully. “Lemons, lemonade, however that goes.”

“You idiot.” Eret and I laughed. 

“Oh, thanks for setting up the attic for me, by the way. It’s cool, how it’s a little bedroom.” 

“No problem…” I looked at the dark water. I really didn’t want to touch that subject. “It’s nice, at night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Not chilly.” Eret nodded. “We can- we can catch back up with Tommy now. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

We walked down the stairs into the parking lot. Commenting on the lonely car, I noticed a blocked off road. I decided to ignore it in favor of heading up the long staircase to the little shops that made the town of the island. 

“Oh, what’s that?” Eret pointed at the statue as we reached the top. A bird on a pedestal with a whale below it. 

“I forgot this was even here.” I chuckled. “It’s a monument to some submarine that was sunk off the coast.”

“Oh, wait. Can’t you do that radio guide thing like the boat said?” Eret looked excited. “I wanna see how it works.

“Sure.” I pulled the thing out of my pocket.

“It was…. 101 or 102, I think.”

I found the station. The voice of some tour guide came on. 

“Named after the Hawiian god of the sea, the USS Kanaloa was launched on January 15, 1941 and commissioned into service at the end of that year under the command of Lt. C. Dream...”

“Never heard of this before. Kinda creepy in a way, right?” Eret murmured. 

“On October 28, 1943, it was sunk by the Japanese sub chaser Tokisada some 25 miles off the coast of Washington…”

“Yeah, I hate thinking about it. It reminds me of those scenes in movies where sailors have to seal somebody up to drown or else the flooding will take the whole ship, you know?” I shivered at the idea.

“... and remains, to this day, the only submarine casualty in American waters. Eighty-five officers, as well as twelve Army passengers, were lost.”

“Yeah, no. I always thought submarine duty was, like, the worst possible war assignment. There’s no way out if something goes wrong.”

I turned off the radio as the recording began again. We continued through the town. All the stores were closed. Probably because it was starting to become winter and we took the last ferry here. 

“Hello kids. The other guys and gals must be further up, so be quick now.” Tommy’s voice suddenly called from the top of a ramp. We laughed, running up to him. 

“Okay, speed-read definition of Edwards Island. This is a tourist trap with shops and beach. Nobody lives here except some geriatric named Mr. Halo. But, cross my heart and hope to die, we’ll never mention him or any other old person’s name again.”

“We are here to drink and be stupid. A tradition apparently started by bored recruits in the nineteen fifties who would sneak dates over from the coastal towns. They literally called it ‘trawling’.”

“Wow, interesting.” I lightly mocked. Eret snorted behind me.

“Yeah, like kids at camp or something.” Tommy shrugged. “So, to summarize, we are not allowed here after dark. The town is shut down, and we - the L’manberg High Junior Class- have come to commit improper acts.”

We came to a fence just taller than me. I frowned, glancing at Tommy. 

“The beaten path officially ends here. The beach is past the fence a way. I think Nikki told me that there’s a way that they used to get over there, but… I can’t remember how. I mean, can’t be too difficult.” Tommy looked around.

“Dumpster?” Eret pointed to the relatively empty bin sitting by the edge of the path. 

“Perfect, we can push it over and close the lid.” I got beside him and helped. 

“And the other thing about this nowhere island,” Tommy stayed back to finish his story. “Is the weirdo caves.”

“The weirdo caves?” Eret echoed incredulously. 

“The whole reason Fundy brought the radio is because when you go to the- it’s like ‘front’--

“The mouth.” I supplied.

“The mouth of this particular cave, you can sometimes pick up frequencies to stations that don’t exist.” Tommy grinned. “You’ll hear voices or just... sounds… And they’re impossible to get anywhere else on the island. Crazy, right?”

“It’s, um, it’s pretty creepy… at least I’ve heard.” Eret and I managed to get the dumpster into place. 

“I did it once. It’s amazing when it works.” 

“Okay, back up a minute here. What about that Mr. Halo guy? Is he the saint for the island or something?” Eret looked back at the town below us. 

“His family, I think, like owns or owned some of the island or something… he’s been shackled in the same spot for like seventy years. He’s kind of what you’d call a local legend. His house is on the other side of the woods.”

“I can’t imagine living in the same exact house looking at the same exact wall for that long a time.” I climbed up the dumpster and hopped over the fence. The other two joined me a heartbeat later.

We walked down the path, finding the trail that dipped down to the beach.

“Oh, before we get there, I should mention-” 

Tommy was cut off by laughter. 

“Who’s that?” Eret asked from behind me.

(Sorry if it's too long. But I shall try to post the next chapters every few days or so. Each should be around this long.)

[zodiyack]

Princess

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x petite/scrawny!princess!reader

Warnings: mentions of death, swearing, smoking and alcohol, changing things from the movie, spoilers??, a sexual word, violence, fluff

Note: ANASTASIA AU CAUSE WHY NOT LMAO || So the movie Anastasia takes place in 1926, Anastasia was 8 (1916) when Rasputin cursed her family and killed all of them but her and her grandmother. She ran with her grandma to the train, falling and hitting her head before she could get on it. Watch the movie, I can’t explain it for you oof || AGAIN, AS I SAID, THIS IS A BIT DIFFERENT BUT STILL SOMEWHAT SIMILAR

Words: 5713 I’m sorry

masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

It was currently 1919. Tommy and his brother Arthur had heard news of a princess, who was assumed dead, being alive and missing. They knew it was a true rumor, and boy were they determined to find that girl...or at least a girl to play her.

Polly and Ada were training the girls on how to act formal. And when the time was right, each girl would audition. Tommy always turned them down though. He claimed they were nothing like the princess.

“How’d ya even know the princess anyways, Tommy?” Arthur questioned, with the intent of teasing and out of genuine curiosity.

Closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, Tommy remembered. It was like it was yesterday.

1902 was the year it happened. Her family’s demise. The young Shelby boy was only 10 when he met the princess. Now, he was 12 and rescuing the 8 year old girl. He admired her greatly. The princess met him in a peculiar way that most people would deem unladylike;

She was riding her horse without a saddle when she was thrown off and landed on none other than the infamous Thomas Shelby. Of course, she didn’t know who he was, or what a boy his age was doing by himself.

“How rude!” She tried her hardest to seem serious about the situation. In all honesty, it was to distract from her red cheeks. She stood up and brushed the dirt off her body. “A girl lands on you.. and all y-you do is stare?”

“A lady wears trousers and all I do is stare, ma’am.”

“O- oh... Please, don’t let word of this reach the palace.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. She was the princess- that’s where he knew her from. “Of course your highness!” He knew she could sense the sarcasm coming from his voice by the way she visibly tensed.

“Whatever... You may know me, but who are you? I’m Princess Y/n L/n. But please, call me Y/n. I like being..well not a princess every once in a while.”

“Thomas Shelby ma’am. Please, call me Tommy.”

They had met every day, her telling him stories of what happened in the palace, and him telling of his family. She was fascinated by the peasant life. It was odd. Normally, Tommy would dream of being the richest man alive, but the fact that a princess, who could do almost anything she wanted, dreamt of being a commoner...that was strange.

However, her strangeness was something he needed to put aside currently. He may have thought it was one of her best traits- but now he needed to think of her safety. The sorcerer Rasputin had cursed her family and was after her wishing nothing but death. Tommy would not allow that. The commoner grew feelings for the princess he had met two years ago. Of course, he wasn’t sure she felt the same way, but he wasn’t going to let her die.

As he lead the two females through the secret door Y/n had showed him, he whispered his goodbyes. Then, right then and there, she stole his first kiss before she ran with her grandmother to the train station. He touched his lips for a second, then realizing where he was and running behind her shortly.

“Tommy?” Arthur’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “What, ya cut ya lip or somethin’?”

Tommy removed his hand from his face and inhaled. He actually missed the princess, and he wasn’t even sure he would ever see her again. “No. Back to the auditions, the girl who’ll be her must be 25, and she must have h/c hair with e/c eyes. I wanna say.. a soft voice. Oh yes, and she must have a serious side.”

His brother made a face at the demands, but added them to the list. The auditions went for an hour or two longer, and none of them were the ones Tommy wanted. Some were either too dramatic, some nowhere close to the description of the princess, others were.. well just plain scarring. It was disappointing, to say the least, but what the Shelby boys didn’t know, was that Y/n herself was waiting to be found.

. . .

“Now get out!”

“Alright alright, no need to yell Sarah. I’m out, okay? Goodbye kids!” Y/n ignored the mean old orphanage lady as she said goodbye to the kids she grew up with. She was finally leaving the place to search for her family. If she had one...

All she could remember was waking up on the train station ground and being lost. The only sign she had of family, was the necklace that never came off her neck. It read, “Together in London.” London was her only clue, and her only hope to be happy.

“Wish you luck finding your family, Y/n/n.”

“Reall-”

“No.” The gate was then shut in her face. Sarah cackled and mocked Y/n’s necklace and dreams. That didn’t really have an effect on Y/n, for she was already walking down the road.

Humming an oddly familiar tune, she skipped in the snow. When she stopped at what used to be a wooden post, it was wrecked and covered in snow. They were her directions. She didn’t own a map, nor did she know her way around England having never left the orphanage.

She gave up and groaned. Sitting on the snow soaked ground, she muttered words of annoyance. She really thought she could find a way to London on her own. Y/n actually had hope and courage and now all she had was-

“Bark!”

She had bark? No that wasn’t right- Just as quickly as she had sat down, she stood up and searched for whatever had made the noise.

“Bark Bark!”

A dog?

When the small animal came into Y/n’s view, she could see that it was a little brown dog. It was adorable. But what was it doing out here by itself? The dog came closer, allowing Y/n to see that it- no he, had no collar or tags.

“Aww poor boy... Do you miss your family?”

The dog tilted it’s head. Could it be answering her? Nope. He rolled over and stuck his tongue out again.

“Hm.. Well I’ll call you Pooka!” She took the dog’s cheerful barks as a good sign. “Do you know where I’m supposed to go, Pooka? ...Of course you don’t. You’re a dog-”

Pooka bit down onto her scarf, dragging it around and off of her and heading down the path to the left. Y/n grunted and chased after her new friend. This was probably normal, after all, dogs wouldn’t know how to understand humans...would they?

Only minutes after following Pooka, did Y/n realize she was headed out of Lichfield and to Birmingham. It would take hours, and she knew that. But ‘a few hours’ wouldn’t stop her from finding her family. So she followed the dog. And besides, a girl her size wouldn’t make it in the snow if she were to wait for help. In the orphanage, it wasn’t much. The meals were not always even and nor were they filling. The older kids would often tease Y/n, saying how she would fly away if she were to stand in the wind a moment too long.

The trip of following the dog turned out to be useful. She made it to a station where she ate and asked around. An odd lady told her to look for a Shelby family in Birmingham, and to not let anyone know she had told her. So off she went, now nearing the unknown place of Small Health. Every time she mentioned the name “Shelby” to the people, they shuddered and didn’t have much to say. Some women smirked but still didn’t speak.

Next, Y/n tried the Garrison. It was full of men. Like, FULL. The only women were accompanied by other men, or were..well whores. It didn’t make Y/n uncomfortable, but she was distant from everyone. Distant as in, avoiding making contact with the people in the pub. She’d only drank alcohol once, and it was after she had a small breakdown at the orphanage. Her friend Jill telling her the drink would wash away her sadness.

This time, the responses to her question about the Shelby name were answered by the man serving drinks.

“What do you want with the Shelbys? They’re not the best people to be looking for.”

“Oh...well I was told that they would have a way to London? Specifically Thomas and Arthur Shelby?”

Harry sighed. He knew what she was talking about, sadly. So did the two men standing right behind her.

“That would be us. Or, for a proper greeting, I am Tommy Shelby, and this is my brother. If you want to go to London, I’m afraid we have no more auditions available.” A deep, but soft, voice spoke into her ear. It gave her chills and made her shiver.

“I don’t know what you mean by auditions. I just want to go see my family, or whatever family I have left. They’re in London and I have no way of getting there. No money, no nothin’. Not even memories.”

Arthur glanced Tommy. The two held the widest grins on earth. “Alright...but you must be the princess in order for us to take you.” They hooked their arms through hers and led her to a corner of the pub. “See, are you her?”

Y/n observed the well made painting that rested on the table. The child looked familiar, but Y/n didn’t believe it. How could she be a princess? She didn’t even look as fancy as the people in the pub!

“Me? A princess?”

“Well you do look quite like her, dear.” Arthur walked around Y/n. “What’s your name? How old are you?”

“Y/n/n and I’m twenty-five... why?”

“Perfect! That’s the age the princess would be now!”

“But still, I can’t possibly be her, I mean look at me!” To prove her point, Y/n pulled at her dress. It was practically a large ratty coat and a belt tied tightly around her small waist. The brown tights-like-pants hugging her legs were the only supply of warmth she had. A princess would be well fed and dressed in fancy clothing. To Y/n, she looked nothing like a princess would. Her hair was knotted and frizzy, a princess’ would be combed and neat.

“Ah...how sad. Well, we must be on our way then.” Tommy turned around with the painting in hand. He walked rather slowly, and don’t even start on Arthur’s expression. She was the perfect actress for the princess, why was Tommy walking away from a good deal?! The younger Shelby elbowed his older brother, “walk slower. Three. Two. and-”

“Wait.”

“One.”

“So what if I am this princess you speak of? I can’t remember, so who knows, I could be her. That is a possibility. And hey, if I go with you and figure out I’m not her, we’ll at least have made friends, right?”

Tommy let a snarky smile slip onto his face. It was obviously aimed at Arthur 'cause disappeared when he faced the young woman. “Right. Well then, come along Y/n/n. We have a train to catch.”

. . .

“What the fuck are you doing.” Y/n looked up from her journal to see Tommy glaring at her.

“I’m writing...” She was a mess. The ink from her pen was smeared across her cheek and she was slouching. 

“No. I meant that.” He gestured to her legs, which rested underneath her bum. “Sit normally woman. No one would ever think you’re the princess with your bad posture and childish sitting.” He handed her a cloth. “And clean your face while you’re at it.”

“Oh leave her alone Tommy.” Polly chuckled, not looking up from her own book. “She still has time to learn.”

Ada, Polly, John and Finn joined their family with Y/n on the train. Ada had made it her duty to teach Y/n, Polly offering her assistance. And the other boys were probably just eager to meet her. Either way, they were preventing Tommy from making an ass of himself in front of the poor woman.

Or...at least trying to. Tommy growled and left the car, going to smoke in the smoking car. Y/n had only met Tommy a day ago, and she thought he was nice. Now that she saw this side of him, she was rethinking her opinion.

“Is he always such a dick?”

Polly laughed once more and finally looked at the girl in front of her. “Yes dear. I’ve known that boy most of his life, and trust me, he’s not changing. Especially after the war.”

“Did he serve in it?” Pol nodded, looking back down with sorrow. “Oh my..that must’ve been hard on him..”

“It really was. He said that he loved a girl when he was younger. And that the war was not only something he needed to help in, but a way to prove to himself that he could possibly be worthy of that girl’s love.”

“I personally think that the girl made the right decision, getting away from him. He’s so mean and grumpy.”

Polly shook her head. Her final laughs of the ride escaped her mouth. The reason for them being final was unknown to the two women. 

Y/n fell asleep, and Polly went back to her book. Tommy joined them again, refusing to apologize. He saw Y/n and admitted she was beautiful, although he would never deem someone as beautiful or even more beautiful than the lost princess who owned his heart.

The reason of Polly’s laughter being the last of the ride was being shouted by John. He told his family how they had the wrong papers and needed to hide away in the baggage car before they were booted off the train. Tommy went to wake Y/n, earning himself a shocked punch in the jaw. After he collected himself, he rushed Y/n to said car, only causing her curiosity to grow.

 This was the last time she trusted a stranger claiming they could supply her with a ride to London. And they were only around forty minutes away! 

“Alright, will someone please explain to me, what the fuck is going on?”

“Well, Y/n/n, Tommy and Arthur here decided to get the wron-” Slap! “Wrong car! Now, we are um.. moving cars! You shouldn’t have to sit in there worth all those filthy commoners. And- wait what’s that sound?” John didn’t even finish his sentence before he noticed something was wrong. Y/n and the others heard it too.

Before anyone could do anything, the train was jerked forward and the door to the dining car was ripped off. The other half of the train faded into the winter background. Everyone had fallen over, Tommy landing on Y/n with a large box in his arms.

“Get off of me!!”

He sighed and threw off the case, pulling Y/n up. She mimicked him as she brushed off the imaginary dirt from her clothing. It reminded him of his Y/n, if only he realized Y/n/n was not actually the mysterious girl’s real name.

“Uh Tommy..”

“What is it now Ada?”

“Someone’s um...flambeed our engine.”

“What!?” Tommy pushed over to where Ada was looking. It indeed looked like sabotage. He pulled off his coat and climbed to the front of the train. Sparks and coals were flying everywhere. It was burning hot and no one was driving the train. They would need to jump off.

He noticed the bridge for the railroad tracks was broken in half. It would cause their deaths if they were to continue in any of the cars, or even in the train itself.

First, his mission was to separate the car him and his family were in from the front two. After telling his family of the plan to escape, he hopped back to the part connecting the cars. It was somehow frozen over, so he demanded a tool to break the ice. No tools worked, he was tempted to just get up and find one himself. Luckily, Y/n saved the day, handing him a dynamite and winking.

“That’ll work.”

Once they were safe and off the train, into the snow, Y/n laughed. It made Tommy’s heart warm. Again, the warmness didn’t last long. Tommy told himself that she wasn’t actually the princess, and he was saving his heart for the real one. The chances of finding her were slim, and he knew it.

“Tommy?”

“Yes Y/n?”

“Promise me we’ll still be friends after I become queen.”

“I promise. Promise me you’ll invite me and my family to the palace?”

“My family and I.”

Tommy turned to the princess and gave her a short glare. She only corrected her grammar when she was being a form of somewhat serious mixed with worry. The fact that she doubted his loyalty to her in their friendship hurt him, but he understood. The royal family already had trust issues, and he didn’t plan on giving the princess more.

“What would happen if I were to... maybe leave England?”

“I would journey with you, Y/n. To all ends of the earth. No matter how crazy the adventure may seem.”

He watched the smile find it’s way onto her face. A similar smile appearing on his in response. She didn’t reply for what seemed like years. That was until she hopped off the tree branch that posed as a two person seat. 

“I would do the same for you, Thomas Shelby. For even just one adventure with you is the only adventure I could possibly dream of.”

. . .

Now on their way to the cottage of Helena Williams, Ada tried her best to train Y/n. She was teaching her posture, showing her how to walk like a lady. It wasn’t going to well. The book tactic didn’t work, Y/n dropping it off her head and into the dusty path multiple times.

Pol had even given Y/n a new dress. It was a sight any man would love to see. The color matched her eyes and her hair was styled in a way- well really everything about her look acted in a way that made the dress seem like it was made specifically for her.

She looked more and more like the princess. Thomas refused to admit it though. In his eyes, no one could ever make him feel the same way about them as he did about Y/n. There was a chance she was still alive, and Tommy wanted to be the one to find her. He would take the reward money and set off on an adventure to all the places Y/n told him she wanted to explore. London was first, as Y/n’s grandmother lived there and waited for her granddaughter.

All Tommy had left of Y/n was his memories and the music box that her grandma gave her before they escaped. He knew it could be the key to finding the real princess. If only he could open it.

“Tommy?”

He grunted. Tommy was in no mood to speak.

“Are you sure I have a chance of being the princess?”

‘No. Your chances are nonexistent, love.’ “Yes. I believe you might be her. Just maybe.” He let the lies escape his mouth.

“I guess that’s enough to give me some form of confidence.” She went back to her training, this time actually doing better. She mastered the wave and walk, perfected the bow and fake smile. She even knew how to dance.

They arrived at the cottage and Polly rushed to Helena. The two women shared a hug, it was much need with the years they spent apart. Helena saw Tommy and walked to him, pinching his cheeks while mumbling something about not seeing him since he was a wee lad.

“And who might this be?” She was done greeting the Shelbys, now raising and eyebrow at their guest. “Another Shelby?”

“No ma’am. I’m Y/n/n.”

“Helena, this is someone we brought to see if she’s the princess.”

“Oh but... come right in!”

Helena sat down and poured cups of tea. She had a Russian accent and a high pitched voice. Her hair was short and blond, poofy and moving every time she moved her head. She had curves that complimented her body, and her purple dress only made it better.

“You certainly do look like Y/n...but so did many of the other girls.” She inhaled and sipped her tea. “Where were you born?”

“At the Buckingham Palace.”

“Correct! And how does Y/n like her tea?”

“I don’t like tea. Just hot water and lemon.”

“Good!”

Some time past, and Y/n was answering the questions honestly, giving answers that were correct.

“Finally, you may find this an impertinent question, but indulge me. How did you escape during the siege of the palace?”

It was the one question Tommy knew she couldn’t answer. If she got this wrong, she would never meet the queen and he would never get the reward. It was game over. Well, until she opened her mouth for a response that made him rethink everything.

“There... was a boy... He opened a wall, and I kissed him. He was my friend..or at least I think... He.. no. That’s ridiculous, walls opening?”

Tommy’s jaw dropped. He stopped pacing and stared at the girl. He knew she couldn’t see him, but he didn’t care. It was really her. The girl he fell in love with and was waiting to meet. The reward didn’t matter to him anymore, for his reward was sitting right in front of him.

“So...is she a L/n?” Polly was the first to speak up.

“Oh well, she answered every question!”

“You hear that my dear?! You did it!” Arthur picked up Y/n and spun her around. The Shelby family cheering with joy. Y/n even let a few giggles of her own come out of her mouth. “So, when do we see the empress?”

“I’m afraid you don’t.” The family stopped cheering.

“Come again?”

“The empress simply won’t allow it.” Upon seeing their annoyed and sad faces, she smirked. “Oh! Do you like the ballet? The Empress and I see them every time, they preform in the Kingsley Room. You should check the place out, the empress loves to sit in the top rows.” She winked and walked off with her tray of tea.

“...Anyone want to go watch some ballet?”

. . .

Y/n ripped and ripped at her paper. She was nervous, and the ripping only proved her point. Tommy tried to stop her, taking the paper from her, but she kept getting it back and tearing more pieces off. Tommy hadn’t told her that she really was the princess, he was saving the reveal for her grandmother to tell her.

That unfortunately, did not happen in the way he expected. After the show, the empress refused to see Tommy or his family. She turned them away and explained how she was done hurting. Calling the guards was something she had to do when Tommy broke his way into the vip section to get her attention.

He shouted at the empress. He demanded that she at least look at Y/n. He told her that he was in the castle when it all happened, and how he was the one who helped them escape. “I’ve heard of you Thomas Shelby. You and your gang. You will quit looking for my granddaughter..if she’s even alive. All you men saying you’ve found her...I’m done hurting. My heart has had enough.”

Not long after that, she called in security. They threw Tommy out of the room. He thought the surprises were over, but there sat Y/n with a red face and puffy eyes. “You! You used me! You just wanted to get that poor woman’s money, didn’t you? I’m done with this!” She stormed off, leaving the Shelby man in his own regrets. 

No. He would not just sit around and cry. He was Thomas Fucking Shelby. He stood up and raced outside. The empress was sitting in the car, waiting for her driver. Tommy took the opportunity and pushed the driver out of the way, climbing into the driver’s seat. He sped down the road, ignoring the empress’ demands of slowing down and stopping. 

He looked into the mirror, “Sorry ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t do that.” She gasped and spewed insults. He didn’t slow down, only going full speed. “I’m not going to stop until you listen to me!”

“Fine!”

The car halted with a jerk. Tommy got out and slammed the door, opening the empress’ on the other side. He pulled out the music box from his coat. “Recognize this?”

“W-where did you get that, boy?”

“You should know, I told you the truth after all. I was the boy who helped you guys escape. Y/n/n really is Y/n. I knew as soon as she told the story of her fleeing. I love her and I can’t stand to see her suffer, so please. Just go talk to her for once. If she’s not her, you can throw me in jail for all I care. I don’t want a reward, I just want to see her smile.”

The empress tilted her head at Tommy’s determination. The fire in his soul and heart that made his love for Y/n indestructible. She could see the anger and hurt in his eyes. The same look she had in hers when she turned him down. He denied the reward she had offered, most men would not.

“Alright. But if she’s not Y/n, expect my guards to be at your doorstep.”

. . .

‘Knock Knock Knock’

“Go away Thomas.”

‘Knock Knock’

“I thought I told you to-” She stopped packing and opened the door to find the empress smiling at her. “Oh, I’m sorry.. I thought you were-”

“Thomas Shelby? I’m not dear, but I would like to speak to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.” The woman walked over to the chair in front of the vanity, taking out the small box. “You are Y/n right?”

“Y/n/n. I’m not the princess, I’m sorry.”

“Ah. What a shame. I thought I’d be with her in London...”

“Wait!” Y/n was fiddling with her necklace. It caught the woman’s attention when she turned around.

“What is that, dear? Come here.” Y/n did as she was told and sat down. The woman grabbed her necklace and read it. “Together in London...” Her eyes sparkled as she turned to Y/n. She took the necklace and unlocked the box, a melody playing softly.

“Hear this song and remember

Soon you’ll be 

home with me

once upon a December”

The woman joined in singing with Y/n, crying and wrapping her arms around her. “Oh Y/n. My Y/n.”

It was a sweet moment. However, the women could not see Tommy as he stood outside, blowing a kiss to Y/n’s room. His brothers and sister asked him if he was sure. He said yes, and started on his journey back to Birmingham.

. . .

“It’s beautiful grandma!”

“Yes my darling...It is...”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well Y/n...somethings are also beautiful. Like the love between a princess and a bet maker.”

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes. “He’s not like how he was when we were kids. He’s probably enjoying spending all of his reward money on whores and alcohol.” She was dressed in a crown and fancy dress, her hair done like she had imagined. She was living the life she was meant to live, and the man she thought she loved was probably living the one he wanted.

“...He didn’t take the reward money, my love.”

“He didn’t?”

“No. He said he just wanted to see you smile.”

“I guess I was wrong about him...”

“Y/n. Go after him. While you still can.”

Y/n nodded at her grandmother’s words. She was about to head out to find him before Pooka ran off into the maze behind the palace. Y/n groaned and searched for her dog. The maze was...off. It sent chills and uneasy feelings to Y/n. She started to notice it. The walls would close behind her, blocking her way out and others’ ways in.

Less than twenty minutes later, Y/n was greeted by Rasputin. She thought he was dead. He was. Well, somewhat. His body was decaying, limbs popping off and acid bubbling in his stomach. He was falling apart yet still aching to finish his curse and kill Y/n.

Rasputin threatened her and mocked her. He brought up the curse, refreshing Y/n’s memory on the matter. And when she didn’t respond the way he wanted, he had some of his spiritual minions claw and bite at her dress, tearing shreds off the once beautiful gown.

“I am not afraid of you!”

“I can fix that!” He growled loudly. “Care for a little swim..under the ice?!!”

A green light flashed from the glass his hands, the bridge crumbling on the side Y/n was on. She was falling, and her crown had already fallen off into the freezing water. Before she could fall herself, Tommy had appeared, his jacket off and his face red. He grabbed her hands and pulled her up with a groan.

“If we live through this-” She groaned as well. “Remind me to thank you.”

“You can thank me later.”

“How enchanting! Together again, for the last time!” Rasputin sent a cursed stone Pegasus flying Tommy’s way, picking him up and bucking him off into a part of the bridge that stood up on it’s own.

“Tommy!” She was halfway over the edge, only her arms and head showing. Y/n was struggling to pull herself onto the bridge, the struggle growing more intense when she cried for Tommy. He grabbed a metal rod and was fighting off the stone statue.

Rasputin walked to Y/n, grabbing her by the part of her ponytail that touched her neck. He lifted her slightly, “Do svidaniya, your highness.” The bridge section that was hanging underneath her fell. “Finally! The last L/n dead!” She screamed but caught a grip onto the remaining bridge in time. Tommy watched her, a newfound courage taking over, his strength coming back to him as he fought off the cursed statue.

The sorcerer was about to kick her hands off the bridge, when Pooka bit his ankle. Pooka and Rasputin were pretty much playing tug o’ war with Rasputin’s legs. More of the bridge Y/n was hanging onto fell, and she grabbed for the only thing she could. She was now hanging over icy water, clinging to a metal rod that was stuck in the side bridge.

He watched Pooka tumble away when he kicked him off his leg. When he looked back, Y/n was nowhere in sight. A splash sounded and the water rippled. “Yes!”

“No! Y/n!” Tommy raced to the water, preparing to dive. The Pegasus had other plans. Darting into him and shoving him to the other side of the bridge.

“Long live the L/ns!” Rasputin cheered.

“Right!” He kept laughing, opening his eyes and turning his head to the voice. Y/n stood her ground. “I couldn’t have said it better myself!” She ran at him and tackled him to the ground. She was wrestling him for the source of his power; the glass vile-like-thing.

He pushed her off of him, sending more minions after her. Pooka saved the day once more, biting it out of his hands and rolling it to Y/n. She stomped on it, causing the Pegasus to break into rocks. One of the rocks hit Tommy's head, knocking him unconscious. She gasped before turning to Rasputin with an angered expression.

“This is for Tommy!” She stomped on the vile. Red light glowed from it.

“Give it back!”

“This is for my family!” She rolled it backwards with her foot and stomped on it another time.

Rasputin tugged on the bottom her dress. “I’ll tear you to pieces!”

“And this. This is for you.” She stomped on it one final time. The vile exploded and the red light flashed. Both Y/n and the sorcerer were blast backwards. He started to melt, disappearing into nothing.

Tommy woke back up and searched for Y/n. When he saw her, he spun her around, kissing her before he set her back down. She giggled and kissed him again. He found his princess, and she found her commoner.

. . . 

“And on the boat back to Birmingham, I kissed her over and over.”

“Ew! Gross papa! You didn’t have to tell us those details!”

Tommy chuckled at his 5 year old son’s disgusted expressions. His daughter, Nevaeh, was nothing like Charlie. She simply smiled and clapped a the ending of the story. Her brother had heard it every year, and this was the first time the 2 year old girl got to hear it for herself.

Y/n walked into the room, smiling at her children and husband. Seeing Charlie’s face was all she needed to see to know Tommy had told their story. 

“Alright. Off to bed now, you’ve got tea with your Gran tomorrow. Be on your best behavior and remember to be formal.” She waited and smiled at her children’s confused faces. “I’m kidding. But seriously, please behave for your Grandma.”

“Oh it’s okay! Nana won’t care! She loves us!”

“Yes, while that may be true, you still need to listen to your mother, prince Charlie.” Tommy tucked his firstborn into his bed. Going to his other child, he whispered something into her ear.

“Mommy?”

“Yes my love?”

“Can you sing us that song? December or something?”

So that’s what Tommy said...”Of course dearest, only if you two agree to sleep afterwards.”

They nodded and lied down. Tommy walked around Y/n, kissing her before sitting on the chair next to the door. Y/n sang the kids the lullaby-like melody from her childhood. When the song finished, she noticed they were asleep.

“Goodnight, my little goblins.” She turned to find Tommy asleep on the chair as well. She giggled to herself. “Goodnight to my little and not so little goblins, I guess.”

Y/n grabbed her husband and carried him to their shared bedroom, struggling, but managing to do so. She was now Queen and she was glad that she had her peasant to rule alongside her.

[arigatouiris]

red right hand // t.h — [02]

pairing: 1920s mob!tom holland x f!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, sexual references, mafia au!, mentions of ptsd, trauma, anxiety attacks, a dash of sexism, angst, slow burn, alcohol and smoking mentioned

word count: 2520

a/n: heavily inspired from this show i’ve been watching, the peaky blinders. the story won’t follow the plotline of the peaky blinders, but a fair amount will intersect. I find the interactions between tom and y/n to be so interesting because it reminds me so much of grace and thomas and ugh they are just the cutest

if you want to be on the taglist, just send an ask or drop a reply~

Two. A Song

▾

Tom only met (y/n) a few nights after that night. 

He didn’t think about her the whole time, instead, he was trying to figure out where to hide the guns. On finding a safe spot, one of the storehouses whose keys only Tom had, his mind was currently at ease. However, building a plan to bring down London’s biggest bookkeeper, Charles Brown. His brother’s bar was empty that night, and as he sat in front of the bar, he ushered the new barmaid to hand him a drink.

    “What drink would you like?” She asked, her voice smooth.

Tom looked up at her and blinked, his eyes callous and his mouth a straight line.

    “You need to learn that yourself, love, if you haven’t already.” Tom snarled, not pleased with how hairbrained she was as a barmaid.

She stared at his face before pulling out a bottle from under the racks, and making him his drink. He watched her, her movements were graceful as if she had done this before, and a soft grin plastered on his face.

    “You’re not from around here.”

    “That much was already obvious,” (y/n) said, looking into his eyes, and then refocusing on the drink she was making. She slid it to him and he grabbed it, “I’m not from London.”

He took a sip before feeling the burn dance with his tongue. It wasn’t Tom’s regular drink but whatever it was that she gave him right then, he liked. The burn was cautious but dangerous, sending a slight shiver up his spine. It reminded him of a worry he knew he had long forgotten. A worry that perhaps didn’t exist anymore.

    “So, where are you from?”

She hummed before saying, “Ireland. My father passed away a while ago, and I couldn’t stay there. Reminded me too much of him.”

Tom nodded once, before taking another sip of his drink.

    “You didn’t poison this, did you?”

She grinned before replying, “If I had, you wouldn’t have been able to ask me that.”

Tom chuckled, before looking at her features. Her hair was long, her (e/c) eyes were sharp as if she had seen blood and gore before. She didn’t look even the slightest bit intimidated by Tom’s presence, perhaps it came from the fact that she did not know him or if she did, then she was not afraid.

He found it endearing, almost. She had this amazing aura around her which caught him off-guard. A girl’s innocence combined with a woman’s sensitivity. A charm that is alluring and attractive at the same time. Tom almost couldn’t look away.

However, the thoughts running in her mind were nothing on par with how Tom denied his attraction to the barmaid’s headstrongness. She was thinking over how she had been utterly and devastatingly honest with Tom just then, having not used the story she had spun in her head repeatedly. She was supposed to have come from a small town away from London, she was supposed to be the eldest of four daughters, she was supposed to have moved away after an abused marriage. Yet, the brown in Tom’s eyes had warded her off a path she had practiced to take—the brown in his eyes left her rooted, and she had no choice but to speak the truth.

She was afraid then, if the brown in those eyes would be the death of her.

She stole a couple of glances on how he looked at things. Tom had this strange wistful glance at everyday things—a sadness his eyes carried with him because his mind never could. She had never really seen such sad eyes before, and she had seen war-struck men, men returning to nothing waiting for them; she had seen the light go off in her father’s own eyes and nothing came close to how devastatingly sad Tom’s brown eyes were.

The pain in those brown eyes caused her to sway. And if there was only one thing she wasn’t allowed to do, it was to sway.

    “Are you done staring at my face, barmaid?” Tom asked, amused.

She coughed once before turning her back on him, suddenly finding something to clean. She heard him chuckling behind her, the redness in her cheek gradually increasing in intensity. Even when he wasn’t saying anything, she felt his presence as strongly as she felt a crowd coming her way. Tom was, in hindsight, a very strong presence to be around. He was too much and too little, all at the same time.

    “You were doing it the other day, too,” He said, taking another sip. “Staring at me.”

It was hard not to, considering he was her prime focus for the mission. Yet, perhaps, some part of her told herself it was the mission as she continued watching him. Tom’s movements were not aggressive, they were fluidic. Almost as if everything he touched was made of glass. It was a strange trait to have for a gangster, a strange trait to have for the leader of the Londoners.

    “How could you notice?” She asked, her back still turned to him.

    “What do you mean?” Tom finished his drink and tapped the glass twice on the table, indicating he wanted another one.

(y/n) turned around, begrudgingly, not willing to let Tom see her red face. However, once he did see it, no matter how silent smiles are, (y/n) could hear it ring in her ears.

    “I’m very quiet.” She said, whispering. “I’m barely noticed—”

    “I believe that’s bullshit,” Tom said, rolling his eyes, watching her make his second drink. “I don’t think just because you’re quiet you won’t be noticed.”

She paused, took a breath and licked her lips. She turned to look him right in the eye, red-faced and everything, and stole some of his breath away.

    “Why do you say that?”

Tom looked straight in her eye before leaning closer to the counter. Their faces were closer than they were before but nowhere close enough to be called intimate.

    “Just because you don't say much doesn't mean people don't notice you. It's actually the quiet ones who often draw the most attention. There's this constant whirlwind of motion and sound all around, and then there's the quiet one, the eye of the storm.”

(y/n)’s eyes were stuck in his brown ones, she was scared all of a sudden. She could see death in his eyes, and she could see the beginning of life. She saw sadness, which often masked everything he did—move, walk, talk, and even breathe, for that matter. She made his drink a second later, still not breaking eye contact, and let out a sigh before being the first one to look away.

    “It’s amusing,” Tom said, taking another sip of his drink. “I can’t tell if you don’t know who I am or if you really aren’t afraid of me.”

    “Oh, I’m afraid of you.” She said, a bit too fast, stunning Tom.

    “Is that so?”

    “...Not in the way you think. You scare me the same way a child is scared of something it’s not seen.”

Tom chuckled, before looking away and taking another sip of his drink.

    “I wouldn’t call that fear—”

    “Your eyes,” Tom paused at her sudden reply. “—your eyes scare me, Thomas Holland. Your eyes seem like they are friends with shadows, not with light. It says a lot more than just—”

In an instant, Tom grabbed her wrist before bringing it down to the counter. (y/n) winced before frowning, turning to look at him. His eyes were now angry, but it could barely mask the sadness in them. She wanted to laugh, but she knew the situation wasn’t appropriate.

    “Do they look sad now?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous.

She smiled softly at him before reaching forward and touching his hand that was holding her.

    “I can’t lie to you, Tommy.” She whispered a lie.

Shocked, Tom pulled away, frowning at her. Quickly downing his drink, he walked away from the bar, leaving her alone.

•

When Nikki was alone that Sunday morning, she didn’t think someone would come to her when she was sitting in the comfort of her home. 

She knew her boys were off working, and it was the one day she would get to be by herself. However, she knew that when there was a knock on the door, it was not her boys but someone else who chose to disturb her peace.

Hamilton didn’t even greet her before walking in after she opened the door.

    “I take it you’re a copper?” Nikki asked, laughing.

    “Spare me your graciousness, Holland.” Hamilton spat, before turning around to face her.

Nikki gave him a cold look accompanied by a sweet smile. She often met death in the eye with a smile on her face.

    “I know your son has the guns,” Hamilton spat. Nikki’s eyes didn’t widen. She didn’t give any sign that she knew what he was talking about. “I know your son has them hidden away somewhere.”

Scoffing, “Should I even play along with your nonsense?”

    “I need to meet with your son, Thomas. I know he’s the ringleader in this circus of yours.”

    “What for?” Her tone suddenly changed, and Hamilton noticed.

He walked over to her and glared at her, however, something about the aura she put off stopped him from taking a step further.

    “I want to speak to Tom or I’ll simply learn more on my own regarding this gun matter.”

Nikki ushered him to leave with her hands, chuckling as he walked out. Her eyes hardened the second she knew she was alone, a curse coming out of her mouth. Grabbing her coat, she quickly walked out of her house and rushed to where Tom was—the official Holland bookkeeping office, and she didn’t bother to knock.

Tom stared at her furious presence, before knowing something was wrong. He watched as she closed the door, locking themselves inside.

    “What’s—”

    “The head of the coppers knows about the guns.”

Tom frowned. He knew the coppers would notice, but not this soon. And how were they so sure that it was the Hollands? It didn’t make sense.

    “I told you, Tom. I told you there may be a rat. I told you that it’s a dangerous game. You never listen. You think listening is beneath you, but look at what’s happened. If something happens to this family, I—”

    “Mother, shh,” Tom rushed to her and held her face in his hands. He cupped her cheeks and smiled sweetly at her, “I have a plan.”

    “And what is this goddamn plan?” Nikki snapped.

    “Charles Brown,” Nikki blinked. “Head of the bookkeeping here in London. If he’s out of the game, we can march in. I know we can’t budge him the way we are right now, but we can slowly expand our control into the inner city. We need this, mum. I’ve got this.”

Somehow, the lull that Tom brought about with his voice seemed to calm her down. She placed a hand on his, which was on her face, and patted it twice.

    “I’ve been invited to the race held at his track next week,” Tom said, smoothly. “If everything goes smoothly, and we get close to him, we can get our papers signed. And once that’s done—”

    “We’ll be legal. But, Brown won’t like that we’re using him.”

Tom nodded, “He won’t. Which is why he won’t be in the picture anymore. That’s what the guns are for.”

Stepping away from her son, she watched him. Nikki had no idea Tom could be this cunning, but somehow, a strange pride filled her heart upon his sudden growth.

    “I’m going to let the coppers have them. In exchange for dirt on Brown. I know four of his tracks are not legal, and he smuggles contraband from Ireland and Wales into London through those tracks. Giving the guns and this piece of information to the coppers would leave Brown out of the race.”

Nikki’s eyes widened. There was no way the police could ever refuse an offer so irresistible. This was the offer Tom was talking about all along.

•

It was another slow day at the bar. 

Tom walked in right after telling his brother Sam he needed a drink. Apparently, Sam had to meet with someone (he knew it was a woman), and Tom left him to his own devices. The second he stepped inside the bar, he thought of the barmaid.

It was strange. He found himself thinking of her at random times—when he was about to pour himself a drink at his chambers or when he was looking at a flickering light, or when he was alone and no one around him. The thought of her could especially not be avoided when he entered the bar. There she was, upon seeing him she shot him a shy smile, and Tom remained stoic.

    “The same drink?”

Tom wanted to scoff at her question. He realized one thing was certain, if she wasn’t afraid of him then he can use her. He looked up at her and nodded once.

    “There’s a race next week,” His voice was smooth. “I want you to come with me.”

Her eyes widened. This was nearly not enough time to even be asked such a thing. What did Tom even know about her that he wanted her, a simple barmaid, to tag along? It made no sense. She was afraid that he had some ulterior motive since it was Tom Holland after all, but she was still tempted to go.

    “I don’t have a dress.”

Tom chuckled, “How many do you want?”

She turned to look at him cautiously. “I’ll come,” Tom eased into a comfortable position, “Only if you allow me to sing.”

His eyes turned cold. No one bargains with Thomas Holland, and yet, here she was, not backing down. He had grabbed her wrist the last time and threatened her, yet, he couldn’t understand what she was trying to do. She was smiling softly at him now, a playful look in her eye. He scoffed before rolling his eyes, but just then, he heard her start singing and his eyes widened.

    “T’was early one morning a fair maid arose, and dressed herself up in the finest of clothes,” Tom wanted to stop her. He wanted to. He almost reached out just to stop her, but he couldn’t find the strength in his heart to do it.

So he watched her. Paled and disarrayed, the sound of music in his ears, the sound of her voice singing just for him gave him a rush he never knew he needed till then.

    “And off to the shoemaker’s shop sure she goes, for the kiss in the morning early…”

    “I don’t know if it’s innocence that you don’t know who I am, or if you’re really that brave…” His voice was low, but not intending to be.

She smiled bitterly, “It isn’t either, Tommy,” He liked it when she called him that, “I’ve just got nothing left to lose.”

▾

series taglist:

@cyrusandhiscollaredahirts​ @plaidamoosette​ @rachaeldonnaspiteri1​ @tanya-diggory​ @myheartonthemove​ @watson-emma​ @souldancerr​ @tomsirishgirl​ @averyfosterthoughts​​ @yourwonderbelle​​

[birdsong-18]

i’m bored so i’m going to do the entire fanfic ask game tag! for funzies!

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

The way that I try to paint landscapes. I’ve always had an affinity to describing atmosphere, and I try to keep that throughout my fics. 

😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

I’m pretty bad at dialogue and keeping the flow of dialogue appropriate to the flow of the story. I’m also a stream of consciousness writer, so sometimes my ideas are really rambly before I clean them up. 

👻 What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

My really old fics from Middle School. I don’t think I will ever touch them again, but they stay on the internet because a new generation of cringy middle schoolers might enjoy them!

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

haha yeahhh. there’s some crack fics I wrote about my oc’s interacting with dream smp, hamilton, the likes that will never ever be published. they’re mostally self indulgent fics that i wrote spur of the moment. 

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

where the cold winds blow! It’s my baby child and I love it so much, and when other people love it I smile! I also really appreciate downhill comments because they’re always so happy. 

✏️ Do you write every day?

haha no. I write everything all at once in a spur of a moment “i want to write” vibe. 

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

this is a little funny snippet from the next chapter of where the cold winds blow that isn’t super spoilery!

“I want to get off of the boat.” Tommy groaned from next to Michael. He was lying back up on the deck, with his hands pressed over his closed eyes. His skin was pale, tinted a strange sense of green. 

“We can’t get off of the boat, we’re nowhere near land.” Michael bluntly stated, looking down worriedly at the man. Tommy groaned again, rolling onto his side and curling into a small ball. 

“I don’t feel good.” 

“If you’re going to barf, do so over the railing. I don’t want to get my shoes dirty.” George stated from the other side of Michael. He was also sitting, leaning against the railing, facing into the deck of the ship and reading from a large book. Tommy raised one of his hands and flipped George off.

“Don’t need your opinion, bitch.” Tommy muttered. 

“Well, he must be fine, because he’s not lost his insults.” George muttered. Tommy opened his eyes briefly, glaring at the man, before going even paler and closing them again. 

“Alrighty, kid.” Tommy’s moans were cut short by Connor approaching the group, his blue coat fluttering in the wind. In his hand was a small jar of glowing vegetables submerged in liquid. Michael could smell the jar from here, a stinging scent filling the air. “Finally dug up the stash. If you take one pickle every three hours or so, it should take off the edge of seasickness.” Connor shoved the jar into Tommy’s hands. Tommy’s nose scrunched up in disgust, watching as the liquid sloshed.

“What are these?” Tommy asked. 

“Sea pickles.” Connor said. “Work wonders on sea sickness. I give them to my newer sailors who don’t have their sea legs yet. Haven’t used them in a while, but they don’t lose their effect, just get more kick. Eat up.” Connor nodded, and walked away, heading towards the captain’s cabin. 

“I’m not eating these.” Tommy said, looking at the jar in his hand. 

“They’ll help you feel better.” George said. “And we need to talk, so stop being a baby.” 

“I’m not a baby.” Tommy stated, annoyed. “And stop telling me what to do, pussy bitch. These look rank and I’m no way in hell eating these.”

“Tommy, just eat one.” Michael said exasperated. “George is right, we need to get researching on the End so we don’t get in blind. We can’t do that while you’re bitching. We’re on this boat whether you like it or not.” 

Tommy rolled his eyes, letting out a puff of breath, but opened the jar and pulled out a pickle. He scrunched his face and put it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing as fast as he can. 

“Rank.” He muttered, shuddering. 

“Feel better?” George asked. 

“Yeah.” Tommy said, guiltily. 

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

getting over 200 kudos on downhill! also planning out the entirety of where the cold winds blow, because i might actually finish a fic for once. 

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

probably excluding so much of the main cast of sbi from my fic. it’s a risk i’m taking though, for the story 

🌙  What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

night because that’s usually when i have time in the day to write. or in the middle of the day while i’m at work in the English Department at my school (i feel so funky doing that, like i’m with all these fancy scholars writing silly little fanfiction)

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

I’m a sometimes planner, but mostally pantser. again, stream of consciousness, and some of my best work have been a “hey, what if this happened? no. alright, I’ll write it then”

📊 Current number of WIPs

3 fics, 2 originals. 

👨‍👧‍👧 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic?

hahahaha no. 

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

i should write more ranboo perspective. or techno, i haven’t done much with him. 

📝 What is one growth area you have for your writing?

dialogue. i’m literally so bad at dialogue, so i’m working on that. 

📚 Do you read your own fic?

yeah :) just a little re-read to see if it’s actually good. I’m also constantly refreshing where the cold winds blow by re-reading certain chapters to keep plot and world building consistent. 

🌈 What inspired you to write [insert fic here]?

i’ll just do all my public ones:

wtcwb: i wanted to write a fic for a while, and i love writing michael because he doesn’t have any character in the dsmp other than “child of ranboo and tuboo,” so he’s much easier to work with, becuase he can’t be ooc! i can’t remember the exact inspiration for the fic, but it’s going so well!

downhill: i love skiing and i went skiing over my winter break, and i got super nostalgic of skiing when i was younger! also tommy’s ski vlog came out and i was like “what if he could ski, instead of whatever the fuck that is.” then the family dynamic came out and it’s my most popular fic for some reason. 

alpine: lowkey wanted to write a downhill sequal, and the olympics were on so i was super thinking about it all the time lol. 

tangerines, fallen leaves, snowflakes, lillies: i wanted to do a character exploration of sbi fic, and it’s sort of working? I was also bored over january and decided to write something different. 

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

consistency and motivation to write. i’m a college student so i have no writing schedule, which is healthier for me anyway. it’s a hobby and i’m keeping it that way. 

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

sbi!klaus au. it’s march now so it isn’t coming back until Christmas. maybe another sbi family au. they’re fun to write :)

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

yes i do research! i literally looked into the different categorizations of skiing in the olympics, as well as how quick an average olympic ski racer is to make alpine pretty accurate. if you count personal experience as research as well, then i’ve got around fifteen years of skiing experience for downill. i’m also taking a class on american political thought, which talks about the basis of the democracy the US is founded on, which is actually technically research for the monarchy vs. democracy thing i’ll be bringing up more in later chapters of where the cold winds blow. i basically take things i know a good amount about and look a little more into them to write fics. 

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

oh, idk. descriptive, funny, fun?

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

oh, man. I’ve got so many headcanons where i just insert myself into my fics. it’s fun i would 10/10 recommend. 

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

oh, man, i’ve got a few. 

comfort fics, i would say Multiplayers, Tommyinnit’s clinic for supervillains. 

[comfort] (as in i’m in pain, but i love this fic so much i’m re-reading): Passerine, All the Young Dudes, Like Magic 

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

where the cold winds blow, for reasons i can’t reveal yet because it would be spoilers (i can hint at a very sad character death, and some morally grey characters that will make you very confused about your standing in life). 

⏰ Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

reading. i read a little fanfiction every night before bed to wind down, and they are usually 2k+ words long. 

💋 [Freeform - what is something you want to know about one of poster’s fics?]

i’ll just give a fun fact: in downhill, i based the ski area off of vail mountain, and based the day they had around a pretty normal ski day i would do with my family when we were younger. the devil’s crotch is an actual run at breckenridge (double black and scary lol), and whippersnapper is at vail (i think? i haven’t skiied there in a while). also, the drive from denver to the ski area is 100% accurate. you drive about two hours west on 70, and you see loveland, go through a tunnel, pass dillon, silverthorne, and frisco (you can’t see keystone, breckenridge, or a-basin from the highway), and then copper. you go over vail pass, drive through east vail, and then see vail. you have to park in a parking garage before walking through the village to the lifts. wanna test me? open google maps and try me

[laurabelle2930]

Summer House ~ Chapter 2: Memories

Hi everyone! I’m just stunned and truly blown away by the sweet words of encouragement for this story! It’s very different from my normal style so the kind outpouring of support means the world to me! Thank you and, without further ado here’s chapter 2!

Read it here or on AO3

Chapter Two: Memories

The rain along her dingy windows was enough to muddle anyone’s thoughts but, usually the rain helped focus her...tonight however the rain wasn’t providing its usual soothing balm. The alarm on her phone buzzed, her eyes flickered over the display before her fingers landed over the answer icon. Moments later her beige colored walls were painted with the bright hues of Sara’s cheery if not slightly drunken voice. “Oh Lissy let me tell you about my day!”

Felicity glanced at the battered clock near the edge of her desk that subsequently was edged along the wall right beneath the flimsy, plastic window sill. “Sara don’t you have an article to finish?” she lectured when the flashing red lights suddenly changed to 2:38 am.

“Yeah, yeah but, seriously you’ll never believe who I ran into tonight!” she nearly squawked like a crow as it tries to steal a stale crumb of bread.

Felicity’s forehead fell over her bent knuckles, “Who the freaking Queen of England?” she mused while Sara prattled away.

“No, but she’s about to be the new Queen of Starling City!”

Felicity’s head inched upwards slowly, “And how is my former boyfriend and his soon to be wife?” she spat with exhaustion instead of venom.

“Well she’s sporting a rock the size of the Eiffel Tower and he’s sporting a brand new rolex so I’d say they’re both doing rather well,” Sara confided before her voice dropped an octave, “but that’s not why I’m calling my amazing friend. I’m calling because while I was eavesdropping I overheard them tell a reporter that they’re going to announce their engagement at the Summer house in five days!” Felicity’s face immediately paled when Sara added, “Isn’t that amazing! That will be the perfect way to wrap up your story!”  

Felicity groaned, “Yeah perfect,” before her forehead fell over her knuckles once more.

“Ummm Lissy you don’t sound thrilled,” she noted with slurred words.

“It’s just complicated that’s all,” Felicity grumbled knowingly.

“Why? Are you still worried about Tommy finding out about you and Oliver?” came her next brilliant if not drunken remark.

Felicity balked at her stab of painful clarity, “Sara it’s way too late to have that conversation right now.

Sara of course simply prattled on, “Yeah, yeah it’s always either too early or late for you LIssy.”

Felicity giggled at the absurdity of the statement, “Sarbear there’s nothing to tell I was his tutor in highschool, he tried to kiss me on a dare I’m sure and, because I didn’t let him he told Tommy I did! He broke us up and, guess what karma works because he lost everything anyways,” she finally lamented once her own fogged mind had begun to clear.

“Yeah I’m not talking about that,” Sara commented. “I’m referring to the night you spent together about three years ago….”

Felicity gulped, “How drunk was I when I mentioned that?”

She heard Sara grin through the phone, “Oh you were a goner but, honestly are you afraid of that night becoming public knowledge or what?”

Felicity grumbled, “Of course I am you ninny. We had sex, I admitted I was in love with him and, by the next morning he was already back together with Laurel! I’m sorry but for most people that would be a hard event to recover from!”

Sara’s drunken silence could only mean one thing….she’d already begun to veer down another path. She heard the loud, thrashing sounds of screaming words and jumbled breaths as Sara’s own labored breathing danced along her eardrums. Felicity waited patiently knowing she’d eventually deliver another slurred line of pointless dialogue. Felicity didn’t have to wait long…

“Well then what is it? You can’t possibly be worried about the voicemail he left the night he disappeared can you? I mean it was pointless,” she breathed unevenly into the phone.   

Felicity didn’t even bother to groan before moaning loudly, “Again as we now know Tommy was sleeping with Laurel so I don’t think some drunken message would mean much at this point.”

“Okay so then why aren’t you happy?” she finally asked. “Why aren’t you beaming from ear to ear with joy? I mean if you’re not worried about the lost night coming to light then what’s got you feeling so down?”  

Felicity felt her brow furrow over her knuckles, “Because…” she felt herself pause. If she told Sara about Moira’s suspicions she knew Sara would be downtown by 8am with flyers about government corruption.

“Umm Lissy? You still there” Sara uttered when her pause grew into seemingly endless minutes.

Felicity coughed, “Yeah sorry I was just saying I’m not happy because the idea of Tommy with Laurel still makes me feel a bit nauseated,” she lied hoping that her bloodhound of a best friend would let the subject die.

“Well that makes sense,” Sara agreed as the music around her grew louder. “Well you’re killing my buzz so I’ll see you sometime in the next week?” she asked as the beat began to make Felicity’s body buzz.

“Yeah I’ll cover with Maude,” she agreed before the line went dead. She chuckled at Sara’s lack of phone etiquette as she slowly lifted her weary head. The clock now read 3am, the rain outside was still hammering along the dingy glass, and her blank screen still seemed to taunt her endlessly. She huffed loudly, “Why can’t I just write the stupid fluff piece and move on with my life?”

Her small apartment building creaked, the shadows along her wall grew as she glanced around the small but still comfortable space. She wept with exhaustion, “Why did he have to mean something to me?” Her walls creaked but in the end no answer ever came. She dragged her fingers along her aching temples and closed her blurred eyes. Her glasses felt crooked over her slim features as she let out a deep sigh…”Why can’t I let it go….”

10 years prior....

The class ended and, the bell chimed like a death rattle as the zombie like student body moved out from behind their small prisons and towards the cool air of the crowded hallway. Felicity usually was the odd student who didn’t clamor for the hallways, she instead yearned for the bell to simply remain silent while, her endless need for knowledge grew. A fellow student tapped her shoulder lifelessly. She shifted in her seat and glanced over her glasses at the red eyed soul. He grinned absurdly as he pressed the crumpled up paper into her waiting palm. He winked and, and giggled, “Have fun bookworm…”

Felicity eyed him cautiously then asked slowly as if she were speaking to a young child, “Are you currently on any illegal medications or were you just born strange?”

Curtis wiped his running nose with the back of his hand as he attempted to slide away from his desk. “Take your pick bookworm,” he muttered once he managed to maneuver his stomach away from the sharp edge of the desk.

She rolled her crystal, baby blues and groaned while Oliver Queen’s little lap dog wandered off in anticipation of his next assignment. She glanced at the crumpled note before throwing it aside and leaving the now empty classroom.

She’d barely managed to step through the door’s threshold before a strong pair of arms had her caged between the wall and his chiseled chest.

Once the shock wore off and she realized who had her trapped, she managed to roll her usually soft eyes into a stern glare. At first she thought quietly she was dreaming. Yes she was dreaming that’s why her boyfriend’s brother had her trapped along the back of some dingy wall with his elbows by her ears. That’s why he was flashing her those stupid fuck me grins while she stood braced against the wall with a look of sarcasm and anger. Oliver was taller than her adorable dark haired boyfriend. He stood at 6’1 or 6’2 while Tommy was exactly 6’0. His towering height intimated her as he kept her caged between his two very well chiseled arms.

“Did you get my note?” he asserted quietly once the halls had all but emptied out.

Felicity’s glare grew, “Yes your lapdog delivered it,” she sneered as the space around them grew tense.

“And?” he asked liked she’d actually read the mentioned note.  

She glared then asserted carefully while also dodging his question entirely, “You do realize that pulling someone into a corner and then trapping them is not acceptable behavior right?”

Oliver’s blue eyes would make a lesbian feel faint, “I told you I need a tutor and, well Tommy and Laurel being around would complicate matters,” he tried to explain with fumbled words.

“You need a what?” she asserted with confusion dripping off  her clearly affected tone.

He smiled at her honestly, “Didn’t read it did you?”

She slowly shook her head, “No…”

His eyes danced as he confessed, “As I told you in the note I’m failing Calculus and, I need a tutor…”

“So let me get this straight…” she balked while he leveled her with a shockingly sincere stare. “You the amazing Oliver Queen is asking for my help?” He inched closer and slowly began to place his hand over the sides of her face. Felicity let him knowing he had an angle.

His cocky grin made her stomach burn, the twinkle in his endless blue eyes made her ire rise as he slowly trailed his fingers down the sides of her face. “Come on Felicity do it for Tommy....” he begged with his index finger resting along her jawbone. “The only way I’m going to college is with a scholarship and if I don’t get at least a C in Calculus then coach is going to kick me off the team.”

Felicity again balked, “You honestly think you could survive in college?”

His head fell almost on top of her forehead, his lips were close enough so they gently brushed the bridge of her nose when he spoke, “Are you going to help me or not?”

She shielded her chest by folding her arms. She felt small and exposed within the cage of his over muscled body. He smelled of cedar and linen while Tommy always smelled of vanilla and oddly enough lilac, his blue eyes made her body tingle while Tommy’s alway made her feel warm. She croaked nervously as his fingers trembled along her heated skin, “Aren’t you ashamed to be seen in public with someone like me?” she asked in order to defuse the odd tension between them.

His forehead finally slightly touched hers, “Maybe but, who says anyone has to know.”

She inched further into the corner of the wall, “You aren’t suggesting the summer house are you?” she growled with the meekness of a caged mouse.

He chuckled deeply, “Well yeah. It’s private and, best of all I won’t have to dodge cheating rumors so…”

She repeated, “So…”

“Are you going to help me?” he begged as their foreheads touched.

She groaned in discomfort, “And it’s only until you can get a C right?”

He nodded along her skin as she shivered, “I can chose the days and times?” she demanded instead of asking.

“Yes Felicity you can chose the dates and times,” he agreed comfortably.

She huffed, “Fine but one last question.”

He chuckled lightly, “And that would be?”

“Why do you have me pressed against a wall with your forehead resting over mine?” she seethed in irritation.

His lips brushed the tip of her nose in friendship, “Because we’re actually friends outside of this hell hole even though you won’t admit it…” he breathed as his arms fell slowly back down to his sides.

“No we were before you got a girlfriend and I formed boobs. After that our friendship ended and this weird relationship was formed…” she corrected as she slipped along the wall and back towards the line of lockers.

He reached for her elbow and pulled her back by a few steps. She let him still her movements as she swiftly turned her head. His soft lips and kind eyes made her heart pound awkwardly, “So can we start today?” he asked quietly.

Felicity lowered her eyes and tilted her head, “You’re driving…” she offered as a response before she gently tugged her elbow away from his touch.

“I’ll see you at three Felicity,” he agreed right as the bell for the end of period rang.

She let out a quick, “Fine,” then darted down the still empty hall. She left him standing there with a baffled grin and surprisingly a shaken heart.

Present Day....

The memory passed as the news alert on her phone buzzed. She glanced at the flickering screen and swallowed an internal snarl.

-Tommy Queen to announce engagement to Laurel Lance where their storybook romance began…

Felicity snorted, “Yeah storybook my ass. She was screwing him while dating his brother…” She glared at the rest of the rubbish story before flicking her phone towards the edge of the desk. She again let her mind wander back to ten years prior when another relationship was beginning to bloom…

Ten years prior…

The male ego was always something that fascinated her; even now as she sat in the passenger seat of Oliver’s brand new Porsche she wondered what made the male ego tick? She squirmed a bit in the seat while her mind continued to burn through endless scenarios. Her driver asked dryly, “Penny for your thoughts madam?”

Despite her usual feelings Felicity found the comment charming and, even a bit disarming. “I was just wondering what makes the male ego work,” she replied quickly before her brain could send out a signal flare telling her to shut the hell up.

He coughed uncomfortably, “Well you don’t pull any punches do you?”

Felicity shrugged and shifted her eyes to the passing flora along the side of the mostly dirt road. “Well it baffles me. I mean Tommy has a BMW and you have this hot little number. He’s dating a nerd and you’re dating the future Prom Queen so it makes me wonder....”

“What’s he getting out of the deal?” Oliver guessed without hesitation.

She glanced at him sheepishly, “Well yeah,” she admitted just as quietly. “He’s one of you and, I’m some poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks who what got lucky when some handsome boy looked her way?”

Olivers fingers flexed over the leather bound steering wheel. Felicity watched nervously while he carefully weighed his words. His jaw tensed each time he let out a small sigh. She knotted her fingers until they were blue while she watched his entire form tense, “Do you want honesty?” he finally asked with a timid edge to his muted tone.

She carefully considered her options. Oliver wasn’t her enemy but, he also wasn’t a friend. Sure they’d been close as children what with her father being the head of his father’s IT department. They’d been playing together since they could all crawl but when the boys met Laurel all those years of shared friendship flew out the window. He became distant and almost cold once he’d won the girl with the hollow eyes and the striking profile. She’d soon moved on and eventually began growing closer to the heartbroken Tommy. Now as they shared the cab of this incredibly fast if not cramped car she silently pondered did he regret ruining the friendship they’d once shared. “I’ll take honesty,” she ventured carefully, “but only if you answer one personal question first.”

Oliver tapped his fingers along the rim of the steering wheel as the main drive finally came into view. Her bag fell over her feet when he took the curve too sharply, she grabbed at the center consul to steady her seated form while he muttered, “Sorry and sure whatcha got?”

She leaned back into her seat then breathed deeply, “Well was it Laurel?”

He shot her a confused look with those dreamy blue eyes, “Ummm Lissy I realize that as children I could read your mind but, umm those days are long gone so…”

She giggled despite herself, “Is Laurel the reason that we sorta hate eachother?” she explained with flushing skin.

Oliver made the slight left and then curved again to the right, Felicity glanced out the windshield and, smiled brightly when a small group hummingbirds moved easily through the many trees along the property line. “She’s demanding, harsh and, at times impossible but, she’s also the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he started to explain as the peak of the home’s chimney came into view.

Felicity nodded in resignation, “It’s okay Oliver you don’t have to explain…”

He let the car slow as his hand slipped off the steering wheel. Felicity nearly jumped when his fingers brushed over her knuckles. His words came out fast, confused and even a bit jumbled, “She’s beautiful Felicity but that’s all she is if that makes sense. She’s not funny, she hates my jokes, can’t stand my sister and, well…”

Felicity blushed, “She’s impossible but, because she’s beautiful you don’t care,” she finished for him as the car came to stop.

Oliver shifted in his seat then placed both his hands over her joined hands. “Look I know what I am okay? I know that she’s the best I can do and I’ve accepted that.”

Felicity’s blush grew even redder, even his skin seemed redder when he used his words to push them away from what would be an honest conversation. “Look how about we call this what it is okay? I can’t tell you what Tommy see’s in you and it would be dishonest of me to try. I needed help and you were kind enough to offer it when I sorta cornered you in the hallway deal?”

Felicity mulled over his suggestion then glanced at the hummingbird family one more time. The way their colorful wings fluttered through the sky made her yearn for simplicity. “Agreed but, Oliver?”

His thumb skirted over her knuckles, “Yeah Lissy?”

“Only my friends call my Lissy, my students call me Felicity got it?”

He smiled ruefully then slowly withdrew his hands, “Okay Felicity…” he verbally agreed before shifting back into his seat.

Felicity smiled when the engine revved. They might not be the best of friends but, at least now she knew they were she stood.

Present Day…

The memory ended when the sky roared angrily with loud claps of endless thunder. Felicity’s eyes flew upwards towards the top of the windows edge, the lightning split the sky, the rain cascaded downwards over the flickering streetlamps below. The way the rain fell sharply over the aging glass pushed Felicity back through her frazzled mind towards another memory that still to this day made her think she deserved more…

Ten Years Prior…

The first month of tutoring went quickly. The first session was filled with tight smiles and on his part a lot of confused grunts. She suggested they approach this like a football game using terms he was used to using in his everyday life. Oliver agreed quickly and, noted with gruff edges that she seemed to understand how his mind worked. She’d given him a sly wink and called it woman’s intuition.

The second month was much like the first. They met after school near the football field parking lot. She climbed in once she’d done a double take of the land around her. She searched for any prying eyes or any prying eyes with a digital lens attached to them. Once she was sure the shadows around her were simply trees she would open the door and climb in. The car was always cool but, not frigid like one would expect given Oliver’s outward demeanor. They exchanged the normal greetings; she would say hey how was your day? He would always reply fine and how was yours? They stuck to three main topics once the formal greetings were over. The first topic was always are you grasping the material? He would always grumble a bit before admitting he in fact was. She then moved towards the next topic which was almost identical to the first. She then would reach into her bag and pull out a small stapled packet, he would eye the papers while she quickly went over the lesson plan for the afternoon. Their last topic was always the veiled one, sometimes he would talk about Thea and, sometimes she would talk about her own family. The conversation would last mere seconds but it always made something in her spine tingle.

Usually they studied in the actual study but, today for some odd reason Oliver had opted for the family room that was lined with about ten large windows. She’d insisted they have a proper table so he’d dragged the coffee table closer to the couch. She was on one end with her feet tapping over the ornate rug below their feet. He was on the other with his palms covering his bobbing knees. Felicity tapped the tip of her pencil along the first line of drawn out equations. “Now per our lesson last week what does this symbol stand for?” she began to instruct per their usual routine.

Oliver grumbled but answered easily, “It’s the unknown variable and the equation is meant to annoy me since we covered that in our first lesson.”

Felicity winked at him slyly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention…”

“Or you’re just wondering if the dumb jock might be more than it seemed,” he joked with ease.

Felicity twirled the pencil between her thumb and index finger slowly, she cocked her head and jabbed her chin toward the packet beneath his history book, “Not to extend this little arrangement of ours but I do have one small question…”

Oliver seemed to follow her twinkling blue eyes to the packet of notes beneath his world history book. He shrugged noncommittally, “The packets work…” he grumbled.

She shook her head slowly, the edge of the eraser was placed along her jaw when she muttered lowly, “Why are you still surprising me?”

“Why are you still so easily surprised?” he volleyed quietly before she tapped her finger over the three equations near the bottom of the page.

Clearing her throat and avoiding a true moment of emotional intimacy she almost rasped, “So ummm well what do these three equations mean?”

His furrowed brows made her spine straighten, his focused eyes made her stomach knot and her jaw clench. His fingers grazed over her soft pencil strokes, his tongue darted over his pursed lips, his arms were like coiled snakes that were ready to snap once their prey was in sight. She grazed her fingers over his knuckles and whispered gently, “Just remember what I told you the equations are meant to help you not hinder you.”

“Yeah easy for you to say,” he mumbled tightly when the answer continued to evade him.

She leaned back into the frame of the aging black leather couch and rubbed her fingers over her upper arms. He continued to trace along her scribbles until his forehead finally fell to his knuckles in frustration. She remained silent knowing he’d eventually give her a reason to smile ruefully.

Oliver finally after minutes of tortured silence threw the book with the packet towards the back wall with the force of an angered football player. She of course covered her curved lips with the back of her hand when the absurd thought flashed through her mind. Oliver’s slanted, angered eyes flew to her smiling eyes in annoyed amusement. “I just busted the drywall of some antique wall and you’re actually laughing at me?”

Felicity chuckled at his comment dryly, “Oh you breaking the drywall wasn’t funny.”

“Then what the hell was?” he grunted angrily.

She debated for a moment. Toying with him while enjoyable also seemed a bit too close to flirting so she caved and murmured in the kindest tone possible, “I was just thinking that you threw the book like an angry football player.”

It was then that the weather outside began to shift… His twinkling eyes burned with humor while her’s shimmered with a moment of pure enjoyment. The shutters along the aging windows rattled like leaves as they fell off the trees in the dead of autumn. The thunder boomed all around the aging house, Felicity felt the tremor of the house’s walls rattling through her still ageless bones. Oliver’s soft voice seemed to float through the air as the lightning split the sky around them. “Do you wanna head back early?”

She glanced over his shoulder and surveyed the curtains of falling rain, “This place has a storm celler doesn’t it?” she decided to ask when the thunder rattled the foundation of the house once more.

Oliver’s shoulders slumped inwardly as his chin dipped to his chest, “Yeah I think it’s actually in the other section,” he replied a bit too somberly.

Felicity’s eyes shot to his defeated form, the rain changed to hail as the wind swept through the trees with violent intentions in mind. “Oliver is that the section that’s not connected to the main house?” she queried nervously.

All he needed to do was peer upward for her to know the answer was yes. Felicity muttered a bit too timidly, “Well that’s hail and, if I’m right then we might need to seek shelter in a windowless room…”

Oliver groaned, “The coat closet is big enough for two…”

Her eyes darted directly to the floor, her fingers seemed to knot around her arms, “Yeah if we’re connected from head to freaking toe,” she managed to squeak between the rumbles of thunder.

He agreed tightly, “I’m not thrilled either but, it’s either that or some interesting cuts if the glass all around us shatters.”

She shook with annoyance and, for once it wasn’t with him. She shot him a nervous glance just as he dared to shoot her one of his own. It was blue on blue, the both of them simply stared at eachother endlessly until their chest’s began to rise in sync. She babbled first when the glass began to splinter, “I’ll keep my back against your chest so our lips don’t you know accidently touch…”

He must have heard the glass cracking behind him because he suddenly rose while urging her backward with his outward arms, “Deal…” he managed to croak before the limb from a nearby tree came crashing through the already cracked glass.

She was unprepared to be bull rushed like one would be on a football field; so when he came forward with his outstretched arms she sort of panicked and, accidentally jumped upward landing snuggly against his broad chest. His rough fingers brushed over the skin of her waist where her shirt had ridden up as he slowly enveloped her tingling body. She slowly raked her fingers over the nape of his neck as his hands began to glide over her curved hips. The skin around her belly button felt aroused she realized with shame as she slowly slid down his chiseled abdomen. She gulped roughly as her fingers drifted to his broad shoulders, “Ummm closet?”

Oliver swallowed roughly, “Hmmm yeah ummm right behind you…”

Felicity nodded while her fingers slipped down to his elbows. He kept his palms over her waist as he began to gently guide them backward. Felicity glanced at their feet, “One, two, three…” she began to mutter beneath her breath as the storm raged around them.

“Felicity?”

Her body stilled, her throat clogged and her skin flushed when a small retched, Yeah?” passed through her shaking lips.

His head tilted, his eyes blazed and his touch burned along her excited skin when he breathed, “If we go any further the doorknob will be lodged in your spine…”

“Ohhh,” she seemed to gurgle while he lifted his palms from her waist and reached for the brass knob. His chest brushed over hers once more, the soft flannel rubbed over her white cotton tee gracefully like a ballet dancer as his chin rubbed over her forehead. Felicity stammered, “You’re making me nervous…” when she finally heard the door click.

“Same here,” he agreed almost too quickly.

His chin brushed her forehead once more when he tilted his head downward, her heart thumped loudly within her rattled chest, her spine tingled and her palms were drenched as his lips brushed over her aching temple, “I think this storm is messing with our heads…” he rasped as his bottom lip edged softly over her skin.

Felicity felt him pushing them backwards into the darkened room when she muttered roughly, “Yeah that’s completely possible…”

She felt the coldness of the darkened space enveloping them as he shielded her with his hardened form. She again traced her fingers along his upper arms until they were once more along his shoulders. He placed his palms along her waist and managed to kick the door shut with the back of his left heel. She stammered, “So the back to chest thing is out…”

He chuckled, “Yeah well I’d rather see your face if it’s all the same to you.”

She laughed uneasily as his lips brushed over her skin, “You do realize I’ll have to start liking you now right?”

His thumbs brushed over her waist in circular motions, “Somehow I think we’ll both survive,” he mused gently before the darkness not only stole their words but, also their claimed hearts.  

Present Day…

She let the memory wash over slowly like the an all day, drenching rain. Her fingers tapped along the aging keyboard slowly. Her mind was muddled but her heart was clear. Slowly and, with great apprehension she began to tap out the first few lines of her article…

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