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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

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Found (Outside the Screen) (CC!Dream x GN!Reader) Part 2

Request: That dream angst fuckin wrecked my heart..any chance for a part 2 with comfort(im not the og requester so if not thats fine its just OUGH my heart)

I have written this three times over because tumblr didn’t save it. THEN. Tumblr doesn’t show it to ANYONE unless they check my account. This happened to my Ranboo fic as well... I will honestly cry if no one sees this.

Once again. This is a completely fictitious story and version of Clay.

TW: Panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts,

"(Y/n)!"

His voice echoed through the house as you scrambled around corners to escape the possible wrath of your boyfriend. Or maybe even soon to be ex boyfriend.

Despite living in this house with him for a little over two years, it was beginning to feel like a maze. You couldn't tell which way was left and which way was right, your head spinning with panic as you gasped for breath.

He's gonna find you...

The house wasn't even that big, and quite an open concept, so you had no idea why you were finding it so confusing. All you knew at the moment was...

Get out.

Once your eyes landed on the door that lead out, you made a beeline towards it and flung it open. Maybe you should've known better than to attempt to run from the manhunt god...

The footsteps pounding against the floor not too far behind you startled you enough to jump outside and slam the door behind you in hopes of giving yourself enough time to run farther.

There were plenty of things failing to register in your mind as you ran down the empty sidewalks. Such as the poor choice (or lack) of shoes you were wearing, or even the heavy night rain pelting down on your shaking body.

Your lungs were burning.. But your brain had thrown itself so far into fight or flight mode that you had no care for anything around you, hardly blinking twice as the signs of unfamiliar street names flew past you.

Eventually, when you physically couldn't breathe any longer, you sat on a bench and took awhile to think. The consistent rain pelting down on your head was actually a decent grounder to help you snap yourself out of it... But that only caused more confusion and another wave of panic to wash over you.

Where... were you?

Doesn't matter. Don't go back.

Oh God... He hates you..

Why wouldn't he..?

He was too embarrassed to show you to his chat!

What did you do that was so embarrassing?

God.. What was so wrong with you that he stayed in his streaming room for days on end!?

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you choked back a few sobs, trying your best to keep what was left of your composure. Very quickly, however, you gave up on trying to hold yourself together and broke down, hiding your face in your knees.

Time seemed to pass by way too quickly but also way too slowly at the same time.. Like time itself was giving you the one finger salute. When you finally stopped crying, you leaned back against the back of the bench and gave a shaky sigh before you decided to attempt to think rationally again.

You had no clue where you were. Nothing looked familiar. What time is it? No clue, you don't have your... Your phone!

You quickly scrambled to your pocket to pull out the cellular device, and stared at the black screen for a few seconds. Anxiety was the reason for your hesitance as you stared into your reflection, frowning slightly. Without thinking twice, you pressed the button and the screen lit up with various arrays of colours.

78 Missed calls from Clay💚

2 Missed calls from George👓🇬🇧

7 Missed calls from Sapnap🔥

Was... He so mad that his friends were trying to yell at you too? You tilted your head slightly and scrolled through the other notifications on your lockscreen.

Twitter seemed to be losing their minds over your boyfriend's stream and wondering who the stranger was. Seeing the headlines flooded you with immeasurable guilt and you almost put your phone down again, if your phone didn't start buzzing.

You glanced down at the screen and say Clay was making call number 79... Man, he was persistent.. and he would probably continue to call until you answered...

Your finger hovered over the decline button, before slowly moving over and landing on the green one instead. "...Hello...?"

"(Y/n)...?" Had... He been crying...? "Oh my god! You're alive!" He gasped out with glee before giving a few sobs of... relief...?

"...You... Aren't... Mad?" You whispered very softly and hesitantly, your voice scratchy and sore from crying.

He sighed and there was a little bit of shuffling as well as a few male voices in the background. "No. Not in the slightest... Where are you? I want to apologize in person.. And when it doesn't sound like you're in a hurricane.."

You lifted your head up to look at the rain that was continuing to pelt down on you before looking around. "..I'm not sure.." You heard your partner echo your statement in question form as you looked for street signs through the rain. Glancing back at your phone, you saw the screen light up again, this time it was a warning label.

Your battery was almost dead...

"C-Clay.. My phone is going to die.." You murmured softly, your heart filling with dread as you turned down your brightness and closed any unnecessary apps.

There was a little bit of clattering and shuffling on the line as Clay hurriedly walked from the windows to the door, trying to see you from the home. "G-give me landmarks! Hurry!" He practically begged as you shot up from your bench, ignoring the burning soreness in your legs.

Spinning around quickly, you began listing off a few company buildings you saw, trying to shout over the rain and a few cars driving by. "Yeah-yeah! There's also that little sushi place beside the restaurant too.."

You heard the furious typing of his computer before another almost sob of relief. "You're on Rosewood Avenue... How the hell did you run that far? Okay, you're going to walk in the opposite direction of the sushi place until you reach a road called Miller Road, got that?" He waited for a verbal noise of agreement before continuing, "Once you get there, turn left and keep walking straight until you get to a steakhouse. I'll meet you half way, if you don't see me there, don't move unless you have to. Got it?" He asked firmly, with a small hint of desperation in his tone.

You rubbed your face as you mentally repeated the directions to yourself. "Yeah.. Yeah.. I got it." You began to walk along the sidewalks, your shoulders beginning to tremble from the water induced shivers trailing up and down your spine.

"..(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I lov-"

Your phone died..

Pulling the device away from your head, you pressed the buttons a few times before groaning and shoving it into your pockets as you began to walk.

Your mind was blurry but also hyper aware along the walk to the road where Clay told you to go. 'What was he going to say? If... He doesn't hate me... was he going to say- No.. no. He hadn't said that line in over a few months now.. No reason why he would say it now..' You mentally scolded yourself.

The rain didn't seem to be too keen on letting up as you walked through large rippling puddles. Your clothes were soaked, your hair completely drenched and you were pretty sure you were gonna need to buy a new phone with how much your current one was getting waterlogged..

You rose your arm to shield your face from the onslaught of water that a car had caused by driving through a large puddle before running your hand down your face.

Part of you was still a bit.. angry... at Clay... He had ignored you for so long and wanted nothing to do with you.. Then suddenly you spill hot coffee on yourself and then boom, you have the man more focused than when he has a good speed run seed. What about all those times you were begging him to come to bed, or at least eat dinner at the table with you? Did you only matter when you were in pain?

Biting your lip, you shook off the thought as you looked up again to see the steakhouse that you were directed to go to, the signs glowingly and people shuffling in and out through the doors...

Then there was another man, standing under a large black umbrella wearing a damp lime green hoodie...

Only you'd recognize that face anywhere where others wouldn't.. Standing in the street lights perfectly was your boyfriend, Clay.

Your heart trembled but also melted slightly upon seeing that he wasn't paying attention to his screen anymore. You. He was focused on finding you...

As you began to walk closer, you saw him lift his head and stare at you for a few seconds before dropping the umbrella and lunge forward to wrap you in a loving embrace. "I'm sorry.." Was the first thing he whispered, his voice almost as hoarse as yours. "I know.. that a simple apology will never excuse what I put you through... You cared for me, and even after a stupidly ignored you... You still didn't leave, or get angry. I don't deserve you, I know that, and you have every right to be upset, angry or whatever you're feeling right now.. Please, it doesn't matter how long it takes... Just let me make it up to you and let me prove myself worthy of your love again.."

Your lips parted in surprise as you stared at him, the streetlight poorly capturing his normal beauty, but still doing it well enough that you felt your heart soar. "Clay..." Your eyes traced his features, his puffy and reddened eyes and his cheeks stained with tear tracks, "You have a lot to work and make up for... I'm not going to forgive you immediately, but I'm not going to leave you.. We can work things out.. Together, okay?"

He eagerly nodded and gently held your face in his hands before pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "I'll break away from video editing and streaming for a while.. So I can focus on repairing things with you.."

You buried your face into the male's sweater, that was beginning to become soaked as well from the rain and you, and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

"(Y/n)?"

"Mm..?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Clay."

#dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dreamsmp #dreamwastaken x y/n #reader insert #x reader #dream x reader #dream x you #mcyt #mcyt x reader

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icarushasfallenfromthestars · 3 years

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That dream angst fuckin wrecked my heart..any chance for a part 2 with comfort(im not the og requester so if not thats fine its just OUGH my heart)

So both you and the og requester asked for a part 2, which means I'm definitely gonna do it! (I'd do it even if the og didn't ask so lmao) I HAD TO REWRITE THIS 12 GOD DAMN TIMES BECAUSE TUMBLR IS SHIT AT SAVING THINGS

I'm honestly so glad people enjoy my writings! Feel free to request more! My inbox is open and I have no requests lined up yet!

Once again. This is a completely fictitious story and version of Clay.

TW: Panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts,

Part one

Found (Outside The Screen) (Dream x GN! Reader) Part 2

"(Y/n)!"

His voice echoed through the house as you scrambled around corners to escape the possible wrath of your boyfriend. Or maybe even soon to be ex boyfriend.

He's gonna find you...

The house wasn't even that big, and quite an open concept, so you had no idea why you were finding it so confusing. All you knew at the moment was...

Get out.

Once your eyes landed on the door that lead out, you made a beeline towards it and flung it open. Maybe you should've known better than to attempt to run from the manhunt god...

The footsteps pounding against the floor not too far behind you startled you enough to jump outside and slam the door behind you in hopes of giving yourself enough time to run farther.

Where... were you?

Doesn't matter. Don't go back.

Oh God... He hates you..

Why wouldn't he..?

He was too embarrassed to show you to his chat!

What did you do that was so embarrassing?

God.. What was so wrong with you that he stayed in his streaming room for days on end!?

You had no clue where you were. Nothing looked familiar. What time is it? No clue, you don't have your... Your phone!

78 Missed calls from Clay💚

2 Missed calls from George👓🇬🇧

7 Missed calls from Sapnap🔥

Was... He so mad that his friends were trying to yell at you too? You tilted your head slightly and scrolled through the other notifications on your lockscreen.

You glanced down at the screen and say Clay was making call number 79... Man, he was persistent.. and he would probably continue to call until you answered...

Your finger hovered over the decline button, before slowly moving over and landing on the green one instead. "...Hello...?"

"(Y/n)...?" Had... He been crying...? "Oh my god! You're alive!" He gasped out with glee before giving a few sobs of... relief...?

"...You... Aren't... Mad?" You whispered very softly and hesitantly, your voice scratchy and sore from crying.

Your battery was almost dead...

"C-Clay.. My phone is going to die.." You murmured softly, your heart filling with dread as you turned down your brightness and closed any unnecessary apps.

"..(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I lov-"

Your phone died..

Pulling the device away from your head, you pressed the buttons a few times before groaning and shoving it into your pockets as you began to walk.

You rose your arm to shield your face from the onslaught of water that a car had caused by driving through a large puddle before running your hand down your face.

Biting your lip, you shook off the thought as you looked up again to see the steakhouse that you were directed to go to, the signs glowingly and people shuffling in and out through the doors...

Then there was another man, standing under a large black umbrella wearing a damp lime green hoodie...

Only you'd recognize that face anywhere where others wouldn't.. Standing in the street lights perfectly was your boyfriend, Clay.

Your heart trembled but also melted slightly upon seeing that he wasn't paying attention to his screen anymore. You. He was focused on finding you...

You buried your face into the male's sweater, that was beginning to become soaked as well from the rain and you, and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

"(Y/n)?"

"Mm..?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Clay."

#dreamwastaken #mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp #x reader #reader insert #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt

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lalahbug · 4 years

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Turning Cold - Levi x Reader Chapter 1

Fandom: Attack on Titan Word Count: 2,043

My Masterlist

Warnings/disclaim: general Sexual Themes

Author’s Note: continued under story Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the same username, on 10/10/2016. Revamped/edited in 2020.

___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person

Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting.

Story under cut, 1 of 3, Turning Cold Masterlist

“Do you want my bread, Sasha?” Lilah extended the food out to Potato Girl.

“YES!” Sasha screamed, devouring it as soon as she took it.

“You leaving, ___?” Mikasa looked at her with concern.

“Yeah, I don’t feel good,” she stated, picking at the leftovers in her tray.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately. Go get some rest.” Armin knitted his eyebrows together, showing concern as well.

“Okay.” ___ mumbled before getting up with her tray and heading over to drop it off. Of course, her feet betrayed her while she was in a haze. The tray fell from her hands, as she fell on someone during her fall. ___ sat up rubbing her temples, everything was blurry.

“What the hell, ___?” Ymir complained before looking at her. “Hey, you okay?”

“My vision is a bit blurry, sorry.”

“Oi! Who made this mess?” The mess hall went quiet as everyone looked at Ymir and ___. Ymir then looked at ___. Levi followed everyone's gaze. “___ ___! Clean this mess up at once.” Levi barked at her as Mikasa was walking over to her, to help her up. Armin came behind Levi.

“Sir, I’ll clean it up for her. She hasn’t been feeling well. I’m sorry.” Armin already had the cleaning supplies in his arms. Levi stared him down for a moment.

“I don’t care who does it, make sure it’s done right.” With that Armin started cleaning up the mess, which wasn’t that big, it was just bits of food. Levi eyed Mikasa who had an arm around ___, walking up to him.

“Sorry, Captain. I’ll make sure I get my messes quicker in the future.”

“You had only fallen like a minute before he pointed it out. Don’t say stupid things. I’m taking you to Hange.”

“What? No. I just need to sleep.” ___ stood up straight, pulling away from Mikasa. Levi eyed the two. ___ was favoring one leg over the other, her posture wasn’t as straight as usual and she was paler.

“Take Ms. ___ to Shitty Glasses.” He looked at Mikasa, then at ___, who was about to retort. He loved the way she always tried to fight him. But she was always polite about it. He stared her down, with his normally stoic face. “That’s an order.”

“Sir, I simply messed up my leg a couple of days ago. Hange already knows. I need rest is all.”

“Wait, what happened to your leg?” Eren asked as he appeared beside her, suddenly.

“Remember; her gear went defective the other day. Slamming her into a tree.” Mikasa reminded Eren. “Hange saw it happen, but she never looked at it.”

“Really. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re disobeying orders.”

“I don-”

“Brat. I’ll take you myself to make sure it happens.” Levi gripped her wrist and started walking, dragging her with him. ___ glanced back at Eren and Mikasa, Eren just smirked and Mikasa gave her an ‘I-told-you-so’ look.

After a few moments of silence, Levi glanced back at ___ whose face was contorted with pain. He slowed down his pace, which alleviated her pain, as they both walked slowly now.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m sorry, Heichou. I didn’t want to burden anyone, but I did it anyway.”

“Of course you did. You’re fucking hurt, you made a mess, you’d be useless if something were to happen.” ___ gazed down at the floor. “You fucking made me worry.”

“What was that last part, Heichou?”

“Levi.”

“What?”

“God,” he grumbled before sighing. ”Forget it, brat.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Levi exhaled heavily as they reached Hange’s office.

“Go in and report back to my office when you're done.” Levi started to leave her at the door.

“Thank you, Heichou!” She smiled and waved at him off before entering Hange’s office.

Levi heaved another sigh as he felt some heat come to his cheek. Oh, how he wanted to punish her, but not in a way that would hurt. ’I’ll tease her a bit when she gets to my office.’

___ stood outside of Levi’s door, holding her fist up, ready to knock, but what she really wanted to do was hobble back to her bedroom and to finally sleep. She had been in the nurse’s office with Hange for hours, getting her first cast, which took about six hours to dry. It was so late at night, she sighed softly.

“___!” Eren called out her name, making her flinch as he roused her from her reverie. “I see Hange made you get a cast. Do you need help getting back to your room? Wait, why are you in front of Heichou’s door?”

“After getting in trouble earlier, he wanted me to report back to him once I was done with Hange. I was about to knock.”

“Well you’ve been standing here for like five minutes, so I thought you might be stuck. I can carry you to bed after you report back to him if you want. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Levi stated as he opened the door. “You are loud Eren, go away.”

“Oh, of course, sir. Goodnight, ___,” Eren walked towards the basement.

“Sorry, Heichou.” Her eyes were half-lidded. She was clearly on the verge of passing out. “I didn’t know if you would still want to see me so late and I apologize for talking so loudly outside your door.”

“You should be, get in here,” Levi grumbled as he stood back so she could enter the room. On her crutches, she stood, unsure where to sit. “You can sit on the couch.”

“Thank you, that’s sweet of you, Heichou.” She giggled as she sat down gingerly. “Sorry, I talk a bit weird when I’m sleepy. Hange gave me something for the swelling since it was really bad, so I feel a bit drugged too.”

“You’ve been walking around on a broken leg for three days?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think I hit the tree that hard. Plus I could walk… It was just uncomfortable. Last night, the pain kept me up. So I’m more sleep-deprived than usual. If you hadn’t overhead mine and Eren’s conversation, I probably would have taken his offer to carry me to bed.”

“Do you like Eren?”

“What?” ___’s cheek tinted a bit. “No, he’s my friend. Plus, I am sure Mikasa likes him. I’ve learned to not take things away from Ackerman’s.” She giggled a bit, letting her blush disappear. “I tried taking her scarf once. if I wasn’t her friend, I think she would have killed me.”

“Did you forget I am an Ackerman?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. It’s routine to call you Capitan or Heichou. Sometimes I just remember one name and subconsciously forget the others. But I remember now, your name I mean, Levi Ackerman. It has a nice flow.” She smiled at him. Levi sat down next to her, resting his arm on the back of the couch, behind her. A small tint of pink comes to her cheeks again. “Anyways, what punishment did you want to give me?”

“Punishment?”

“For disobeying orders, I assumed that is why you wanted me to report to you afterward.”

“What do you think of me?” Levi asked bluntly, smirking as her cheeks went crimson.

“Oh, um, you’re brave, stoic, you carry humanity on your back. You’re aggressive,” she paused for a moment glancing at him before looking away. ”You have a lot of emotions, but you’re so crude that it seems to mask the less urgent ones. You have a good sense of humor, though. Well, at least I think so,” ___ played with her skirt a bit, the one Hange lent her so that the cast could be put on.

“Is that all?” Levi noticed her tense up and heat spread to the tip of her ears.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Levi. You can call me Levi when we’re alone.”

“O-okay.” She wasn’t doing too well, she’d always made sure not to get starstruck around Levi, but she was having a hard time controlling her heart, she hunched over a bit to try control her erratic heartbeat. Levi shifted closer to her.

“Are you nervous?” Levi whispered in her ear.

“W-what?!” She sat up straight then looked away. “N-no, of course not. W-why would I be, s-sir?”

“You’re bad at lying.”

“And?” Was all she could muster so that her voice wouldn’t crack. He chuckled slightly, which caused her to look over at him, confused. Levi took the opportunity to catch her chin in his fingers.

“I like you, ___.”

Her eyes widened at his confession. “Um, okay?” She was far too confused to articulate anything else.

“And?”

“I don’t know,” ___ whispered.

Levi clicked his tongue in frustration before pulling her in for a sharp kiss. Moving his hand to the back of her neck, making the kiss more passionate, as she relaxed into it. He bit her bottom lip, making her gasp. Then, he moved his tongue around hers.

___ pulled away, breathing a bit harder, Levi was composed. His eyes didn’t leave her lips. Levi pulled her closer before kissing her again, running his hands up and down her sides. She pulled away again.

“Tch, stop pulling away.”

She was panting now. “Learn to breathe out of your nose.” Levi aggressively kissed her, tugging her hair a bit to get her to gasp, which worked. Once again his tongue wrapped around hers. He lightly sucked on her tongue before pulling away.

___’s eyes were glazed over, from the kiss, being tired, drugged, and confused.

“You’re staying here tonight.” That made her snap back to reality.

“B-but, sir, I-” She moaned slightly as he tugged on her hair.

“Say my name,” Levi pressed his lips against her neck.

“L-Levi.”

He grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulling it away a bit, kissing the curve of her neck before biting it roughly. “Levi!” He chuckled before pulling back as she clamped a hand to her neck out of shock.

“So, do you mind sleeping with me in bed?” She was far too flustered to say anything, so she shook her head ‘no’. “Perfect.” He gave her a sly smile, which nearly made her heart jump out of her chest. In one swift movement, she was scooped into his arms, he was assaulting her neck once again.

“Levi, what are you doing?” She looked at him as he sat her down on his bed. He leaned forward, pinning her arms above her head and lying on top of her. Kissing her neck, she squirmed a bit, underneath him.

“Hm, you said I could have you in bed.” He groped her chest.

“T-t-that’s not what I meant!” Her moan cut off the protest, as he bit her neck again.

“Tch, too bad,” she sighed in relief. “For you that is.”

“Wait!”

“Nope, you’re mine.” Levi pressed his lips to hers and smiled as she seemed to cave in.

___ lied in Levi’s arms, as morning light started to pour over Levi’s features, she softly pushed some of his bangs off his face. “I love you, Levi.”

“Finally,” he mumbled and smirked as she jumped in his arms a bit. He pulled her closer, snuggling his face into the nook of her neck. “I love you, ___.”

She smiled as she traced small circles onto his back, with her fingertips.

Extended Ending

“Oh, Shorty, you’re going to get into so much trouble.” Hange leaned in the entrance of his room, seeing the two pressed together.

___ tucked her head under his jaw, trying and failing to hide.

“Fuck off, Shitty Glasses. 1. I don’t care. 2. We didn’t do it. Yet.”

“Well, when you do, then you’ll be in trouble.”

“She turns 18 in two weeks.”

“She’ll be in that cast for 4 weeks after that.”

“That’s not going to stop me.”

“What stopped you last night?” Hange chuckled.

Levi looked down at her, the corner of his lip twitching up for a moment. Hange smiled at Levi, completely understanding.

“In this crazy world, full of change and chaos, there is one thing of which I am certain, one thing which does not change: my love for her.” Levi hugged her tighter making her squeak.

Author’s Note: continued I never posted the last two chapters on dA. Since it was unfinished it was deleted from my gallery, so you won’t be able to find it other than here and maybe other sites in the future. This was meant to be a one-shot but I wanted to continue it. So here we are. And that’s why there is an “extended ending” From some research I found out a cast in the 1800s, they took roughly 6 hours to dry. So that’s why I mention it.

#attack on titan #aot #aot fic #levi x reader #levi/reader #levi ackerman #fanfic #fanficition #lalahbug #Turning Cold series #lalah writes #reader insert #xreader #self insert

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sui-senka · 5 years

Text

The legal side of dealing with porg - signal boost please

Might as well tell you all this as @staff are genuinely useless with dealing with trolls, and if they were more competent - she’d actually be banned by now.

The threats that she comments in notes of other peoples in stuff that she tries to delete are annoying, and even more so the unblocking of blocked users just to start something. (Ref. @kissan-etsiva)

But all those comments with hatespeech - are totally illegal. The anonymous messages, even more so. I can’t remember the exact post to link you to that proves this - but it shows many links to news articles about people being charged with crimes because of anon hate and comments that attack others. (It’ll pop-up on your dash now and again, like the hat post or colour of the sky post)

@thephantomporg84

Anyhow - a decent user should follow the tumblr user guidelines right? And if not, there should be consequences? Well after giving up reporting on abuse because literally nothing has been done in a year - I can tell you that these guidelines have been broken by the user derelict-stranger probably more than once. If you look at the letter I used to file a report with local UK police -> DM me for it, (afraid to put it in this post as it has my IRL name in it) it essentially boils down to the violation of the following guidelines:

Hate Speech

Harm to Minors

Violent Content and threats

Promotion of self-harm (like telling multiple people to kill themselves)

Non-Genuine Social Gesture Schemes: forcing others to block a list of 50+ people, for example.

Confusion or impersonation (she e-groucho’d me as “idk thephantomporg84 or opera or whatever”)

Harassment

The letter highlights in red the guidelines that have been broken. If anything is out of date or incorrect - DM me so it can be corrected.

As for the legal shit found here: Online hate speech and trolling is Illegal in the UK and there are guidelines in place to deal with it. If porg lived in the UK she would most definitely be charged with cybercrime related offences.

However in Pennsylvania this is different: if brought to court, online cyberbullying it can be charged as harassment if the perpetrator’s intent was to alarm and annoy victims and the manner in which the defendant communicated with the victim was threatening, which is certainly true for many of us who’ve landed on her naughty list. It can also be charged as stalking if there are repeated instances of such behaviour in order to put the victim in emotional distress or fear of bodily injury - which is certainly true of many of us who’ve received hate speech from her, and one of the most recent events where the perpetrator unblocked someone just to get a hate comment out of their system.

The consequences of harassment and stalking in the USA are either fines, jail time or both. For harassment - one can expect approx. months to 1yr jail time and fines of upwards to $2,500. For stalking - fines are in between $10k and $15k and jail time can be between 5-7yrs.

The only legal defence to cyberbullying is the first amendment - the rule about free speech. However lines are blurry in this area - so if brought to a criminal court In the US porg may get away with it. The perpetrator’s state of mind may be taken as a form of defence, if porg or a qualified mental health professional claims she wasn’t in the right frame of mind when committing such acts she may get away with it completely or get a less harsh sentence. (Then again, involuntary 302 holds do exist, if someone isn’t of right mind and is causing harm to themselves or others....)

I also used an online link to report the aforementioned document of evidence to Scranton Police (where the troll lives), and it was recently rejected as there wasn’t enough evidence, which is the same message I got from police in the UK. On the upside - I actually have an active case number with the police, and two email addresses to contact a police constable and a police station. (Again, DM me if you need it)

Hell - I’ve even tried going to the FBI and posting an online tip to the Philadelphia department but I’m not sure if it actually is working for me, as I’m doing this from another country. If you’re in the USA - knock yourself out.

This was the online form I used to actually report the crime in the first place -> here I don’t know if it works for non-uk users, but you are welcome to try.

But yeah - please try to report this to local law enforcement, the person in charge of my case said if more people come forward, more can actually be done in regards to this than what a tumblr moderator or algorithm can actually do. If you do decide to go to the police or any other local authority - please make reference to my case number (please DM me to get it)

... and Porgypants, if you’re reading this, shit has only escalated to this level as you haven’t backed down, and the moderators on this website have turned a blind eye to your behaviour and repeated violation of the guidelines. You have made this even easier for us by disclosing the city and state you live in, the county you live in, your age, biological sex, your job and other such qualifications (like your college degree), ethnicity, religion and the neuroses that you mention as a defence for your behaviour. Many people have found your usernames on various platforms, and have narrowed down the places where you could work. For an internet troll, you sure are lousy at covering your tracks.

We’ve tried to ignore you - and even then, you’re still looking for ways to get under our collective skins. We are asking you to leave us and the fandom alone, and to take accountability for your behaviour.

If you aren’t happy with this proposal, feel free to lawyer up. If need be, I’m pretty sure many of us would be happy to go to court to go against you. Also - the repeateded harassment and hate towards the DMC devs on twitter (if anyone hasn’t seen it - wayback machine exists) they count as victims too, but they’re probably too busy to deal with other things than to deal with you.

Regards,

Sui-Senka/Sakura-Shadows

#devil may cry #dmc #thephantomporg84 #derelict stranger #derelict-stranger #dmcv #devil may cry 5 #dmc5 #porg drama #honk honk #🤡

22 notes · View notes

webscene-remade · 5 years

Text

gigantic homestuck liveblog post

hello. I hope to god that tumblr’s readmore function works across platforms because otherwise this may just be the worst thing I ever inflicted on anyone’s dashboard in the history of this hellsite

warnings for my pure, unadulterated opinions (including relentless character-hate for characters that I personally do not like), spoilers for literally everything, reading the epilogues in the most asinine order possible, and the same content warnings that were given at the beginning of the epilogues themselves

general thoughts: i liked some of it, didnt like some of it. the parts that i didn't like would have been more bearable if they literally weren’t painful to read. i’m of the opinion that, while things dont have to be daisies and roses all the time, i don’t want to have a completely horrible reading experience when things aren’t daises and roses.

other complaints: part of homestuck’s appeal is its amazing cast of girls, and they were severely under-utilized. also, i had to see gamzee again.

but, like i said. i liked some of it. a lot of it, in fact. i did think it kept with the spirit of homestuck in that it made me feel every single human emotion possible.

I had a lot of Feelings while reading, and if I went into all of them here, I might as well write out some meta to flesh out the 2.5 concrete thoughts I had while reading, but I’m not going to do that. instead, i’m going to dump my several-thousand-words of live reactions here so that no one has the patience to parse out what the hell i’m talking about. because I just spent a total of 21 hours reading this and I am so incredibly braindead.

MEAT 1

Okay I’m clicking on ‘meat’ first. I’m so scared LMAO I’m not ready for this.

Gross. This is already very upsetting.

MEAT 2

Lmao WHAT

FUCK. Dave this is NOT ALLOWED.

Homestuck is very very good actually

Alright I’m going to have to stop screenshotting every single thing I find funny or else I am never going to get through this

I Love You Dave Strider

This is so fucking weird to say and I have no idea what the psychology is behind it but reading homestuck always makes me weirdly ambitious…like reading about dave doing shit like making comics and motivating karkat to run for president makes ME want to do shit.

also the biggest mystery in homestuck is that people like jake English

MEAT 3

The fridge pops open and out roll Aranea and Gamzee. Gamzee honks and his codpiece jiggles ominously. Aranea staggers to her feet, looking rather pleased with herself.

Fucking gross.

JOHN PUNCHED ARANEA

Waaaaay back in the day “aranea gets punched in the face” was on my homestuck bingo card, back when we all thought the comic was gonna end after the gigapause or whatever it was called

Also is this going to be in fic form the whole time because if so I’m going to have a hell of a time concentrating long enough to finish this in one go

You wisely decide that this clown will lend nothing valuable to the narrative whatsoever if he is allowed to remain outside of your childhood refrigerator. You put both hands on his chest and shove him into the fridge where he belongs. He goes easily, issuing only a pair of weak honks in protest. You slam the fridge shut and resolve to never think about Gamzee Makara again.

Bye bitch

I know you’re going to be back soon but still

(also I skimmed the first few pages of the candy epilogue and it looks like gamzee might have some relevance in that one too. Homophobic if true.)

MEAT 4

Oh jesus fuck I just remembered caliborn’s stop-motion Claymation thing where all the kids die. And now john’s gathering them all up. This is going to fucking SUCK isn’t it

MEAT 5

Lmao

Jake can’t help but watch the motion, raking his eyes over the muscles shifting beneath the skin of Dirk’s neck and arms.

Calm your fucking boner dude

Also dirk is ripped apparently

With a casual flick of his wrist, Dirk snaps out a bright red tranquilizer handgun and shoots Jake in the neck. Jake’s glasses crack when he hits the mat.

What the fuck

MEAT 6

You wonder. Do you see these teen versions of your friends as “real”? Are you treating them, at Rose’s behest, as simple puppets? Doing your part to insist they fill friend-shaped recesses in an essential plan to stabilize all else that can be considered important, a distinction no longer applying to them? Do you care at all about whatever fate it may be that you are sentencing these children to? Are you becoming as complicit in the fatalistic evils of Paradox Space as Lord English himself? Are you becoming a monster, John Egbert?

MEAT 7

I Love You Rose Lalonde

Also, same old Dirk, huh?

Dirk & rose conversations are some of the best but. Dirk. Dirk. He reminds me so much of myself and I constantly want to shove him into a locker.

MEAT 8

I hate how much I love caliborn. Also I am Very Afraid.

MEAT 9

The blurry, distorted face of your laughing nemesis was the last thing you saw before the chest door slammed shut and plunged you into textual obsolescence.

And here, you are now stuck. You will not emerge from this holding cell, from an outside perspective, for quadrillions of years. It is not long at all until you begin to wish you had brought something to read.

Jesus Christ

Well. At least it’s quadrillions of years “from an outside perspective.” Hopefully it won’t be THAT long for them. Maybe like, an hour?

Also john you broke your glasses. How are you supposed to read.

MEAT 10

No, surely this must have been Dave’s idea. The kind of plot hatched from their little nest of mutually supportive, codependent, interspecies... whatever it was they had going on over there.

Jane is straight-up EVIL, I guess

This what capitalism does to you, folks

Also, karkat (true leftism)

MEAT 11

This is exactly what I expected when I realized john would be overseeing a group of teens

Would you tell them about Terezi...

For some reason her name feels like nails in your heart. Makes sense, you guess, cause there’s a lot of sharp letters in it. She had sharp teeth too, and sharp elbows. Sharp words. Terezi Pyrope was a sharp girl, and maybe what these sharp feelings are trying to tell you is you miss her more than you realized.

Do NOT talk about terezi in the past tense you fucking GOON

Also if I don’t see terezi again I will fucking riot

Me like 2 years ago

MEAT 12

Asfdhkajlfh

Jade you are NOT subtle

This is oppression

Dave and karkat HAVE KISSED MULTIPLE TIMES. I will not be convinced otherwise

Jade “didn’t think Obama was a real person” Harley

Also Dave “doesn’t think Jesus was a real person” Strider

Speaking of. Where is homestuck-is-a-sin nowadays

Jade will you please chill

but also. Marry me. dave and karkat are clearly not comfy with this, but I would be very comfy with it.

MEAT 13

> Be Vriska.

Oh fuck yes

Well, that didn’t last long. Bye, vriska!

Oh fuck

God this is all so intense. I feel like I should’ve read candy first

MEAT 14

Really, the only surprise is how long it took to happen. Jane is a beautiful lady, that’s for sure. She always has been, but she’s only grown more ravishing as she’s come into the full blossom of her womanhood. Smooth, silky skin... thick, dark lashes... full, feminine lips... not to mention curves like the dickens.

This is so hard to read lmao

Jake can’t stop thinking about dirk….ouch

MEAT 15

Roooooooooose

ROSE ):

Fuck jade too

This is going pretty much as well as could be expected

Just two bros…fighting lord English…everyone dying around them…

DAVEPETA

…v…vore

Great minds

Dave ): ): ):

There was no way that wasn’t going to happen but I am. Extremely upset.

The black hole—the gaping, implacable, cosmic embodiment of the dead cherub, his long-departed sister—finally welcomes Lord English home.

Yo I’m

It’s bananas that this webcomic still manages to have a monopoly over my emotions after all these years

MEAT 16

Oh fuck

Loving the aspect talk though

Rose’s eyes have grown distant, almost mirrorlike. Dirk can see himself reflected in her vacant stare.

Oh jesus oh Christ

Oh no

FUCK OFFFF

MEAT 17

All I’m thinking about is the narration about jake watching dirk’s rippling muscles

Dirk: I heard that Dirk has an 8-pack

MEAT 18

It’s been 3 hours and I’m only on meat 18

I need a fucking drink

MEAT 19

Jade’s got this disarming combo of head-in-the-clouds flightiness and the kind of legit, down-to-earth cred that can only be earned by having done something like cutting open your own grandfather and stuffing him full of polyurethane foam.

Why is homestuck so funny

I LOVE YOU ROXY LALONDE

Fucking same

MEAT 20

What is Happening

Will these motherfuckers Please Stop trying to remove the objects that are impaled in their chest

CALLIOPE????

I am actually astounded by the amount of things I retained from homestuck even though I haven’t quite understood what’s going on for like 6 years

MEAT 21

I missed her so much

I hate this stupid fucking webcomic

Please god kick his ass kanaya

MEAT 22

Fucking owned

MEAT 23

Kanaya PLEASE kick this fools ass

MEAT 24

TEREZI

I’M GOING TO GO APE SHIT

SHE LITERALLY HASN’T SAID ANYTHING YET AND I’M LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND

I’M GOING TO VOMIT

MEAT 25

…hmmmm

I’m actually almost tempted to do this?

Like I know it would make way more sense to finish reading meat first…BUT…

I’m gonna do it lmao

CANDY 1

At each fork in the veins, he supposes the leaf as a whole is making a certain kind of “decision,” to go this way or that. It certainly seems like one way of looking at a leaf, now that he bothers to really scrutinize one. It also seems to him, with just as great a sense of clarity, that not one of this leaf’s decisions ever mattered even the tiniest fucking bit to anybody.

Alright! Great start!

Hm! I don’t like this at all!!!!

Fuck gamzee lives

CANDY 2

Sensing that this is probably something he shouldn’t be seeing, he tiptoes towards Gamzee’s would-be sarcophagus as carefully and quietly as he can, and places his hands just above the thick aluminum hull. The moment John’s palms hit the fridge, Dirk turns to look at him. His head only moves an inch.

………what the fuck

OKAY SO…JOHN’S JUST GONNA…DROP GAMZEE ON EARTH C…THIS IS FINE

Oh what the FUCK is going on

I forgot how fucking headache-inducing gamzee’s quirk is

Literally this is almost impossible for me to read for some reason

She pats him on the back, nods very slowly, issues an “mm-hm” now and then. Only while he is distracted by his own sobs does she steal a glance at her phone, tipping the fact that she too wouldn’t mind if this redemptive soliloquy could hurry itself along.

I pretty much sound like a broken record at this point but. What the actual fuck.

Gamzee stans be like

John: *sends a picture of gamzee to terezi*

Me: Gamzee Is Not Allowed to Exist In The Same Narrative Space As Terezi

“HE”….

I just realized that the narrative isn’t in second person any more

I mean…I’m assuming we’re outside of ‘canon’. Like this isn’t the ‘essential’ timeline anymore, so things are…fucking wacky, to say the least

But even in the other timelines, shit isn’t this wack

And john seems to be aware of what’s going on

So like. What’s happening.

CANDY 3

At least dirk’s bitch ass is also sweating over all this

CANDY 4

Rose opens her eyes. She stares at the knob of her wrist and frowns. She’s not sure why this sensation should be concerning. It’s not like her memory is slipping away. She remembers the conversation she had with John this morning quite clearly. As she does the previous years of declining health, and troubled, obsessive thoughts about canon, dissipation, and other such abstractions. What’s slipping away instead is the feeling that any of it mattered at all.

I have. Very mixed feelings.

Like OBVIOUSLY I don’t want rose to continue to suffer existential dread but this feels like post-retcon all over again. Which is to say, everything feels off.

But. Post-retcon was, like, canon. And post-retcon (post-game over, really) is where I kinda stopped caring about homestuck as much as I had before

And perhaps that’s just me not “getting it” but. Oh well.

Fucking OUCH dawg

Rose and kanaya…damn son…….

They were my first f/f ship ever. Can you believe that? Can you believe homestuck?

CANDY 5

She retrieves one of her bras from where it’s hanging over the back of the couch. She starts changing it right there, doing that mystical sleight of hand girls seem to be born with the knowledge of, where the bra goes off and then on again without the shirt being removed.

Very unrelatable

Now THIS is relatable

Jade CHILL

I’ve always liked the idea of jadedavekat but this shit is not fun

Karkat fucking bit her afdhlfasdkfh what the fuck

Picsthatmakeyougohmm

CANDY 6

Yall are gonna think I’m evil for saying this but how on earth are there people out there who like Jake English

Okay I took a break to eat something after 5 straight hours of reading

I bet there’s people out there who have read this shit 3 times over but I take so GODDAMN LONG to read anything

And to think. I’m an English major.

Anyway back to it I fucking guess

That’s depression, babe!

I’m heterophobic now

Do I REALLY have to read another Jake-Jane makeout sesh. Do I really.

It turns out that I don’t. thank god.

But that was all still incredibly uncomfortable

CANDY 7

In the time that I was eating I managed to forget that gamzee existed. And now I am reminded. How unfortunate.

I do not often find myself agreeing with John and only John but. Here we are.

Also I am Not Down For johnroxy. Especially with how wack everything is.

Roxy DO NOT leave john alone with this literal clown

Oh fucking Christ

HELLO?? IS THIS ALLOWED???

CANDY 8

The,, hornographer,,,

There’s a third member of their social group who definitely hasn’t arrived at the conclusion that his power and influence should be meted out responsibly either. Neither of them speak his name, however. For some reason, it feels like a shadow passing over the sun. A brief spike of pain flickers through Rose’s head, a bolt that strikes between her eyes and splinters out. There is color and light behind it. A vision that tears through the material reality in front of her and gives her a brief glimpse into a parallel reality where things are very different.

Hm! Not great!

Yes, it would be very awkward

Also, don’t even fuckin g MENTION vriska unless I get to see her

Don’t think I haven’t noticed that this epilogue has been hellishly vriskaless

Like youre gonna make me see GAMZEE MAKARA?? GAMZEE??? WHERE’S VRISKA??

CANDY 9

Jade. Jade. Jade. Fucking CHILL, jade.

CANDY 10

Get you a girl who lesbian marries one of the two remaining eligible human females

Eyes emoji

He whips his head around to see... Dave? He’s running down the street, looking back and forth like a hunted man.

Dave: *is flirted with*

Dave: *books it to an entirely different time zone*

I Love You Dave Strider

Why on EARTH are you going to john Egbert for relationship advice, though

CANDY 11

Daaaaaaave ):

CANDY 12

This is the fucking worst

I hate this so much

CANDY 13

It’s obviously a robot, but it’s a complete mess. The form is feminine, but the head is still bald, and the face has no cover, revealing its skull-like interior. The body doesn’t have any proper protective plating yet, so it’s all a mess of wires and loose mechanical bits. Clearly a work in progress. But Dave can’t help but wonder what exactly it is that Dirk’s been working on here?

Then Dave notices the note. It’s carefully folded in the limp palm of the robot’s hand. His heart jumps into his throat, and something in his stomach drops.

Oh, no.

what the fuck is this fucking robot

Also did dirk fucking kill himself

CANDY 14

We’re back in the 2nd person now for dirk’s shit

What could you accomplish in a dead-end existence like this? There are no stakes. No meaningful challenges. No structures or themes—only residual chemical reactions in a dying brain, a physical system’s obligate compulsion to exhaust its own lingering momentum.

Literally me every time I realize that life isn’t a story and I’m not a character with a heroic arc

And like I get that homestuck has been thematically interested in...well…life not being a story. And I have a feeling that these epilogues are going to cement that, with all the talk of meta/canon. And I can already tell that I’m going to be disappointed with the lack of narrative resolution

Because like…life’s not a story, okay……………but homestuck is

Anyway this fucker is really about to kill himself isn’t he

Yep…jesus.

CANDY 15

Wow this feels INCREDIBLY shitty considering. That’s exactly what happened.

I am not Feeling Great my dudes

Dave’s got his suit jacket unbuttoned and pulled over Karkat’s head to shield him from the rain. Karkat’s the one talking—his caterpillar eyebrows furrowed, but his gaze soft. Whatever he’s saying makes Dave turn his face away, but Karkat winds a hand in his shirt and tugs him in, forces him to make eye contact. They both go still, seeming to finally realize how close their faces have gotten, how Karkat’s fingers are brushing down the length of Dave’s torso. Dave dips down so that their noses are bumping.

I will NOT be distracted by this cute shit

(I am distracted by this cute shit)

Thinking about how roxy said they don’t want to have kids in meat and I’m! Not feeling great about this!

Also I hate that I have to call it ‘meat’

(also the narrator refers to roxy as ‘she’ in candy and so like. Idk which one I’m supposed to use)

CANDY 16

6 month time jump. Very relieved that I don’t have to see the johnroxy wedding

Fucking. Skullface emoji.

Asdasfasljk John don’t dump on your sister like that

Straight fucking savage though I’ll give you that

John and terezi are talking about vriska I’m going to fucking vomit

This is all I’m going to get, huh? Huh????

I’m so starved

Vrisrezi is literally the most compelling part of homestuck and it’s like. So not going to be relevant at all in the epilogue, is it

CANDY 17

Did rose and kanaya literally name their kid ‘vriska’

Like they did not have to do that

John is the only one who hasn’t lost his goddamn mind

Also the idea of someone just changing their kids name a year after they were born is. Hilarious. It’s extra hilarious when you remember that the kids didn’t get a name until they were 13.

John SNAPPED

“please come make sense at me”...This is……..A Lot

CANDY 18

Jane is still dedicated to eugenics which is like. Pretty fucking awful.

You know it’s bad when GAMZEE MAKARA argues with you about morality

Fucking GROSS

Also jake is sitting right next to them akbfdabkjknsfn

Welp! Homestuck’s over, everyone!!!! The furries won!

CANDY 19

I have been reading this goddamn webcomic for 8 goddamn hours

I’m pretty sure that I’m not even halfway through

HIS RELATIONSHIP IS A FLAMING WRECK OF AN INTERSTELLAR WARSHIP HURTLING TOWARDS THE PLANET AT TERMINAL VELOCITY WITH THE ENTIRE CREW BRUTALLY SLAUGHTERED UPON REENTRY, SHOVED STRAIGHT DOWN THE CHAGRIN TUNNEL AND THEN IMMEDIATELY SHAT OUT THE OTHER SIDE, THUS FLOODING THE ENTIRE FUCKING NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN IT CLOGS UP THE LOAD GAPER.

This is what this epilogue has been missing…karkat-isms

Yo WHAT

I probably definitely should’ve read meat all the way through but. Oh well!

I never thought that I would be glad to see a dead teenage jade fall out of the fucking sky but at least its providing a brief reprieve to feeling of absolute dread I’ve had while reading the entire candy section

Also strange that dead teenage space jade is the one thing that DOESN’T fill me with absolute dread

CANDY 20

Karkat SNAPPED

CANDY 21

I somehow managed to forget that calliope exists

Funeral TWO

As fucking rough as dirk’s suicide was, I absolutely cannot imagine him in any of these situations

Like the only narrative choices were to kill him or to lock him away in his lab w/o a single mention of him and I gotta say the former makes more sense given his characterization

I am. Upset.

ARADIA

Aradia please save me from this nightmare

Asdfghjlkjhgf

I changed my mind I love candy

Never mind jane’s talking about eugenics again

I’m laughing???? What the fuck is happening?????

Okay alt calliope is using dead teen space jade’s body as a vessel

Should’ve put two and two together since I got close to that part in meat but I have been reading for like 9 hours and things are starting to blur together

*heavy metal music plays*

CANDY 22

3 year time jump! Alright!

Fucking same, john

Okay so the dead trolls that got consumed by the black hole are showing up on earth c, or something?

WAIT DOES THAT MEAN LORD ENGLISH IS GONNA GET PLOPPED INTO THIS TIMELINE

idk if I’m misunderstanding but……..i am……nervous

Those are my 20-something-year-old children

Cant believe karkat rose and kanaya are in antifa :’)

Actually I can absolutely believe that

I hate this

I was 100% unprepared to see Eridan fucking Ampora in the year of our lord 2019. I’m calling the fucking police

This is the worst

Oh I Do Not Like This

CANDY 23

John was serious about the whole kidnapping thing huh

Christ almighty

SILENCE, CLOWN.

Jokes aside the child abuse is like. Very vey upsetting.

But why has this human child adopted the ‘uh,,’s of Tavros’ quirk

I think I’ve said this before but homestuck is very good, actually

Hm this shit with kid tavros is making me sick to my stomach

Also I’m approaching hour 10 and I may have to take a break for sleep soon.

But. I defo have shit to do this weekend that doesn’t involve reading homestuck

We’ll see how much longer I can stay awake, I guess

Dave said this about dirk (jake also said this about dirk, in meat) and I’m. not psyched about it.

I suppose it’s possible that gamzee retained it from dirks funeral, but still

John has his breath powers back?? Passively, at least?

And where the fuck did alt calliope go

And aradia and sollux

Unfortunately I still think it is kidnapping

Especially because you’re like, 5

It’s probably, like, a bad thing that I was rooting for john’s kidnapping plan to work. But.

CANDY 24

Okay theres alt calliope aradia and sollux

I am. Compromised.

Oh fuck

It’s actually kind of insane that dirk and jane are like. Straight villains. I kinda would’ve guessed w/ jane (relation to the condesce and all that) but dirk being a villain shocked the fuck out of me. it really shouldn’t have, though, considering that dirk was capable of becoming bro.

): ): ): ):

I’m actually tearing up LMAO

I can’t tell if it’s because of how much I love terezi or if it’s because I’ve been reading this for 10 hours straight

Probably both

CANDY 25

Karkat I love you

Also this is buried deep enough in this post so I think it’s safe to say w/o anyone actually reading it: when I was 14 and reading homestuck for the first time I had a crush on karkat and used to daydream about us going on a date at the county fair

I’m sorry to anyone that had to read that with their own eyeballs

Hard labor in the cake mills

Bucket jokes are dead, folks. You heard it here first.

Oh Christ I just remembered that group of cosplayers who took a bucket into a restaurant and passed it around and spit in it. Scandal of the fucking decade.

Asdfghjk KANAYA

This is only going to make things more complicated, I imagine

KARKAT: I’M ALSO FUCKING ORDERING YOU TO STOP MAKING GARBAGE FISH PUNS FOREVER.

LMAO

Okay…on that slightly…lighter note, I think it’s time to turn in for the night. I’m at the 11th hour (literally) and I’m losing my ability to pay attention to what the fuck is going on

Plus my head hurts like a motherfucker

If I remember correctly, each epilogue has 45 parts, so I’m a bit more than halfway done

I’m setting an alarm because I’m dedicated to finishing this tomorrow

CANDY 26

Okay I got my hat on backwards and I’m ready to fucking party

Even Alternia had beauty in it. But John is sure that Earth C probably replicates it the same way it replicates everything else: thin and garish and fake, fake, fakity FAKE. A bad photocopy with the ink settings turned to high contrast. A sunrise that casts no shadows.

This is not a party

Also I’m getting flashbacks to my thesis that I wrote on the left hand of darkness which never shut the fuck up about shadows and the lack thereof

A streak of teal, smudged along the top ridge of the seat cushion, at the center of a red, bloody handprint. With wide eyes, John reaches out and runs his thumb over it. It chips under his nail, the same consistency as human blood. The same color as Terezi’s text.

He rubs the flaky crust between his fingers. He only stopped talking to her a few hours ago. Time passes differently out there, as he’s often reminded. She was so sure she was dying. Was this it? Was this how she —

John reels back, nausea striking him in the pit of his stomach. What kind of twisted coincidence is this? Why is he finding this now? If Terezi was here, why? Who was she bleeding with in the back of his father’s car?

I’m guessing john was bleeding with terezi in the back of his father’s car?

I mean when I left off with meat terezi had just shown up to find john impaled in the chest with one of LE’s teeth

But I’m like. SUPER not psyched to learn what happened to terezi

A choked sob forces its way out of his chest. His fingers flex into claws, gathering up dirt into his shaking fists. He bears down until his knuckles turn white and his fingernails press sharply into the flesh of his palms. The pain makes him feel real.

All he’s ever wanted is to be fucking real.

Maybe it’s because this is the first thing I’m reading this morning but I absolutely cannot take this seriously

CANDY 27

Ten year time skip. Jesus.

So everyones in their late 30s, now

I’m love them?

Also things are super not great on earth c, huh

Like imagine being jane crocker & playing a game where all your friends die a bunch & then showing up to an idyllic planet and being like ‘you know what this world needs more of? Fascism and eugenics.’

Also didn’t jane’s dad make it onto earth c??? where is THAT motherfucker??

I’m glad that sollux and aradia are still like. Chillin.

Karkat sure does know how to sweet-talk people

Also karkat still misses dave ):

And dave still misses karkat ):

This is so fucking rough

CANDY 28

VRISKA???

Yeah this is the vriska that got punted by LE after releasing the juju

She is taking things as well as I would imagine vriska to take things

CANDY 29

These chapters are getting shorter. Maybe I’ll actually finish this today

…lord English?

CANDY 30

Okay, so jane’s dad was on earth c, and now he’s dead

Jesus Christ

I shouldn’t be laughing but adjsgklfgfs

Leave it to karkat to try to assassinate someone with a fucking rocket launcher

Also leave it to dad to jump in front of a FUCKING ROCKET LAUNCHER

I cant believe gamzee fucking Makara is still here. I was hoping that had all been a nightmare

Yikes! Yikes! Yikes! Yikes!

Asdfghjkjhgfdsdfghjkjhgfdsdfghjkljhgfrvghkhgf

I-

I don’t know how I didn’t see this coming

BEGONE, CLOWN

CANDY 31

I missed their interactions

John is so fucking funny sometimes

I’m laughimg so fucking hard

Also I’m going to keep calling her vriska and calling rose and kanaya’s child ‘kid vriska.’ Otherwise I will get incredibly confused between this vriska and actual (vriska)

Vriska I love you

Also I like how john straight up hates kid vriska

God she’s so intolerable. I love her.

Also vriska and dirk are so similar but I love vriska and can’t stand dirk

am I a misandrist

(I know it’s probably their differences; vriska is dedicated to being a hero and not a author/villain(?) and still, like, values people, even if it is in her own fucked up way. Also she’s like a billion times more critical of herself than dirk is)

oh god theyre talking about terezi

yeah that didn’t go anywhere I wanted it to

CANDY 32

fukcing. Gamzee.

Please god vriska beat this clowns ass

“brutal Double Axe Handle” “European-style Uppercut” “knife chop” “Discus Back Elbow”

Am I supposed to know what any of this means

I like how john is just watching this happen

Gamzee grabs (Vriska)’s foot by the bridge. Instead of yanking her off-balance, he opens his huge, bloody maw of a mouth and... runs his tongue along the rubber bottom of her shoe? (Vriska) freezes. She watches him lap the mud—and his own blood—out from between the grooves of the sole. His lips drag lewdly over the ridge of her footwear and begin sucking at where her big toe would be, if it were not safely ensconced in several layers of rubber and canvas.

Fucking GROSS

I hate this clown so goddamn much

This is the absolute Worst Outcome

Like I cannot imagine a more upsetting scenario than gamzee and vriska making out in canon

Dirk’s suicide would be a fucking palate cleanser at this point

That was a bad joke to make but that’s what homestuck does to you I fucking guess

CANDY 33

*I* don’t even remember the three pillars of canon

And I read that shit literally yesterday

I, unfortunately, have no idea what this means

Well. At least rose is happy. For the first time in the entirety of homestuck.

CANDY 34

“immoderately lit”

I’m going to say that all the time now. Thanks.

Vriska’s huge, mischievous smile freezes on her face. When her eyes pass the image to her brain, and it finally makes sense of this incomprehensible jumble of gray limbs, blue and purple slop, tangled black hair, and stunned faces, her expression begins to slowly melt. It then drifts quickly, from phase to phase, to one of wonder, then anguish, and finally, abject horror.

This is so fucking unfortunate

CANDY 35

At least all the vriskas are on the same page about this being the nightmare scenario. At least theres that.

Gamzee calling vriska “problematic.” I’m laughing really hard but I’m also like. Enraged.

And then, she lets go. His face is frozen in a repellent mask exhibiting the perfectly undetectable difference between terror and ecstasy. He’s dead.

I hope to GOD this is true but I’ve been tricked before

I don’t know if I will ever be truly free of gamzee fucking Makara

CANDY 36

Jake and his kid showed up to johns house and jake is wearing nothing but underwear

At this point this is one of the least strange things to happen

All the same, John finds it hard to feel much sympathy. Who is Jake? The one standing in front of him now, anyway. Has he always been this contemptibly pathetic, or is this too a function of the absurdity of this contorted reality? It’s hard to be sure. Are Jake’s “struggles” worth any more of John’s guilt and emotional energy than a Sim stuck in a pool without a ladder?

Jesus Christ. John did not come to play today. Fuck.

Also I feel incredibly bad for jake. I’ve never liked him but I’m not, like, a monster.

Or maybe he is doing exactly what Jake has always done. In a certain light, isn’t ascribing all this mess to some unconscious influence he might have had over the metaphysical shape of reality just a way to brush off his simpler failures as a man and a father?

God why is homestuck kicking my ass so bad

John constantly misses his dad and all I can think about is how often his dad told him that he was proud of him. And now john thinks he’s failed as a father.

John and jake are. Dancing.

I absolutely have not forgotten that jake is still in his underwear

CANDY 37

I’m living for this conversation between vriska and kid-vriska

Man I bet dirk hates john’s guts LOL

Like I imagine john’s retcon powers infuriate him

Though I bet dirk wouldn’t want the retcon powers for himself. It might take away the “challenge” of it. Idk.

Jesus Christ

How the turntables….

I Am Going To Vomit

Vrisrezi is so fucking legendary. No one can ever change my mind.

I also I just ate a ham and cheese sandwich and it was really fucking gross. Legit cant tell if I’m nauseous about that or vrisrezi

[CHANTING] VRISKA AND TEREZI ARE IN LOVE! VRISKA AND TEREZI ARE IN LOVE! VRISKA AND TEREZI ARE IN LOVE!

I’M SHAKING I FEEL SO VINDICATED RN

I forgive all the other dumb shit in this epilogue

Seriously. Transcends quadrants. I have been saying this for half a fucking decade. Vriska and terezi are in gay love. Eat shit, haters.

Asdfghjkl

I hate this stupid webcomic

I have nothing intelligent left to say anymore (as if I ever had anything intelligent to say) but. Homestuck good.

I am going to Lose My Shit

CANDY 38

Thank Fucking God

Also ever since dead teen space jade fell out of the sky, all of the characters have felt a lot more real

I’m not sure if that’s in the narrative or that’s just me getting over my disgruntlement at the incredibly batshit things happening in candy

Hatchi fucking matchi

Also getting some real dirk-fading-into-the-ether vibes from john here

Roxy is fucking laying into john damn

But it’s not like they arent making completely valid points

………..hmm……..

God I’m so depressed

I’ve spent 80% of my life worried that I’m doing the Important and Right thing

And in the last 4-5 years I’ve been confronted with my cosmic insignificance and I have not been able to get over it

Like I get it’s kind of asshole-ish. Narcissistic. Selfish. To think of your life and the people in it as something….sidelined. and to be all mopey over that.

I WANT to be all “who cares” about it because thinking that your life has any Grand Significance In The Scope Of The Infinite Universe is 100% impractical and frankly batshit

This is all to say that I have problems and homestuck if calling me tf out

CANDY 39

dave is in the FUCKING WHITE HOUSE

I swear to god if Obama shows up I will shit my fucking pants

He steps closer to investigate, wiping away at the layers of moss and dirt to reveal a surface he most certainly does recognize. It’s a transportalizer.

I am shaking in anticipation

It’s a mounted god tier costume, about the size an adult male would wear. He recognizes the symbol. It’s the same one Jake used to wear when they were teens. It is the symbol for Hope.

Obama played fucking sburb didn’t he

Why is homestuck so fucking funny

OBAMA LMAOOOOOOOOO

This is the most homestuck thing to ever happen in homestuck

Hologram throwing all this inspiring bullshit at dave and dave just repeatedly asking how Obama died

He tells himself there’s nothing wrong with crying. Of course there isn’t. Just... not in front of Obama. He’s GOT to keep it together.

I’m just gonna. Put this here.

Obama ships davekat

Daaaaaave ): ): ):

Yes I’m 21 years old yes I’m tearing up at a conversation between a fictionalized barrack obama and a fictional man who wears sunglasses from a ben stiller movie all the time

Hate this fucking comic LOL

“wake up”. What. What is happening.

The sliding panel reveals a recess, and in the recess stands a robot. It’s a gleaming, polished silver replica of Dave, but without shades. It stands totally still, unpowered. Dave struggles to make sense of what he’s looking at.

Is THIS the robot that dirk was building??

Wait Obama said he built it

What the actual fuck

Fucking. WHAT. DAVBOT?

This is so fucking weird

CANDY 40

Asdfghjkl

I love you aradia

Wow that conversation was…………..something

So calliope is fighting dirk for control of the narrative?

and dirk is like, an irresponsible author

especially interesting convo in light of dirk’s status as andrew’s self-insert

also I knew LE was gonna show up

CANDY POSTSCRIPT

rose…..bot……………..

I’ve got a bad feeling about this scoob

Also not feeling great about fucking davebot

That’s it for candy……………………..

Hopefully meat is more conclusive that

I’ve been reading for 15 total hours now

Might as well keep going

MEAT 25

Didn’t think I’d actually do it, huh?? Snide bastard

Also rose is going to straight die real soon isn’t she

And then become rosebot

Oh fuck right off

MEAT 26

Get wrecked you punk-ass bitch

MEAT 27

Okay so alt calliope is taking over jades body in this reality. Cool cool.

Also. Interesting that calliope said the way events are telegraphed, not what events are telegraphed. Goes back to importance of the speaker convo from candy

Dirk’s text is getting smaller asfgshfjk

Also good to know that calliope is completely Freaked The Fuck Out in this reality too, re: alt calliope occupying jade’s body

……….man

Also I’ve said this before but. Dirk and vriska. Are so alike.

MEAT 28

Terezi dear god I fucking missed you

It probably hasn’t been that long but it feels like forever

Yeah I suppose terezi’s been talking w/ the john that’s aged into his 30s

Also I was thinking about this lastnight & I forgot that time works different here in ye olde paradox space and I was kinda super weirded out thinking about a 30 y/o john flirting with terezi. I actually had a nightmare about it lmao. But this morning I remembered that terezis probably been at this forever.

I think the fact that john is even worried about this at all means he’s in pretty good shape

John: *thinks a girl is cute*

John: oh shit am I being a creep

Okay, terezi says she feels like she’s been out there for a hundred sweeps. That defo makes me feel better about her and john flirting

Okay, so I was right. John was the one bleeding in the car

Terezi’s not bleeding though so I am. Nervous to find out how that happens.

OF COURSE terezi is still looking for vriska, you fucking goon. Theyre in love.

Though I gotta say I wasn’t that down with johnrezi before the epilogue but. I have to say. It’s actually very cute.

Terezi just. Ate shaving cream.

MEAT 29

Oh, hi, jane

I kinda forgot how far along she is in her development as a full-blown fascist in this timeline

Dirk: *speaks*

Me: bitch

Jesus Christ

Waiting for dirk to call jane problematic

Calliope SNAPPED

MEAT 30

Why is karkat hiking around in a fucking suit

I love karkat

I love dave

Dave starting to explain super pacs to jake

And using sbahj for campaign ads asgdhadkjl

Why is he like this (I say, fondly)

Dirk is really out here being Like That

I’m

I have no words

Also I promise that this is unrelated but jake has inexplicably grown on me a little (not a lot)

MEAT 31

Now terezi is eating tobacco

She’s disgusting. I love her.

Terezi ):

John: *talks about how great terezi is*

Me: *nods solemnly*

I Am In Pain

GOD I love Terezi

Terezi: hold on. Lemme just do an impromptu surgery real quick.

Terezi: *is, very unsurprisingly, turned on by doing an impromptu surgery*

Oh ok this is happening

Good thing I found the time to get down w/ johnrezi I fucking guess

Not completely sure how I feel about this

MEAT 32

Is dirk about to fucking assassinate jake

He wouldn’t do that right

Dirk said transphobe rights??

God I hate this motherfucker

Dave: come…’out.’ What is this you speak of.

Roxy, dave, and alt calliope: Let’s talk about gender

Okay, so. Assassinating jake is something that dirk WOULD do

Calliope struggling to keep dirk back w/ the power of their narration is very fun to read though

Dirk: *slices the bell in half*

Me: that would’ve…made good content for a flash

Not to sound ungrateful but not one panel? Not one flash animation? Instead I have to read all these WORDS?

Of course if this were in a flash animation I probably wouldn’t understand fuckall of what is going on

On the other hand, it wouldn’t be taking me a billion years to get through this

God can roxy please get a pair of sunglasses to match dave. Please.

Hour? 17.5? Maybe?

Anyway I am being forced to take a break so I can participate in easter festivities (by which I mean eating dinner with 2 whole people)

Okay I’m back

I defo should be able to finish this tonight

Okay I guess killing Jake is NOT something that Dirk would do

At least. Not right now. And probably not permanently

dude…

you got to FLIP it

TURN-WAYS

Time to be back on dirk’s bullshit I guess

Meat 33

In the two hours that I was gone I managed to forget that john and terezi boned

Dirk saying things like “incel” and “cuck” make me want to Kill

Meat 34

Wow it so incredibly awful to read Dirk’s narration

I hate this stupid motherfucker so fucking much

Meat 35

*sees more orange text* oh jesus Christ

God why is he being so fucking cruel

Also if john dies then like. WHAT is the point.

Aw man I’m fucking crying

Man what the fuck

This shit fucking sucks

I gotta take a break

Meat 36

Now that I’ve taken like a 5 minute break to stop fucking crying it’s time to get back on the pain train I guess

Since I actually let Tears Fall there’s an increased chance that I’ll cry again

So I cannot be held accountable if I do that

Why the fuck does this clown keep misgendering roxy

Terezi: *pulls johns corpse out of a wallet to smell it* nothing weird about this

Also how tf is terezi gonna show back up shortly after john goes missing and no ones gonna suspect anything

Is it vriska. It’s vriska isn’t it.

Why do I feel like I’m either never going to get to see this conversation or I AM going to get to see it and its going to cause me immense personal distress

TEREZI SAID TRANS RIGHTS

Also terezi can hear dirk???????????

And are roxy’s pronouns him or them

Like did terezi just assume based on roxy’s appearance or did she talk to kanaya about it

Also I hate dirk’s stupid fucking guts

It does NOT help that I didn’t like him before the epilogue

God he sucks shit

Say it with me, now: we love terezi pyrope

Terezi DO NOT trust this clown ass motherfucker

Meat 37

Dirk is actually the worst dad. Don’t sweat it, john.

ROSE: Are you sure Kanaya is going to be ok with this?

No, rose. She absolutely will not be ok with this. What the fuck.

This shit sucks so goddamn much

I am going to be so depressed after finishing this arent I

Goddammit I’m crying again. I fucking knew I would.

Meat 38

Unfortunately I agree with dirk

FUCK

Davekat is so GOOD what the hell

Also

Karkat ):

Dirk will you fucking fuck off

I’m seriously okay with dave and karkat hopelessly pining forever if it means dirk doesn’t literally FORCE them to kiss. Like, what the fuck.

I take a deep breath and get myself under control. My light psychological intrusions may have only made things worse. Invested as I am in the outcome of this encounter, I know forcing their hand would be a mistake.

That’s the smartest thing you ever said you stupid fuck

Thank Fucking God

Meat 39

I’m nearing the end of this whole things and dirk still has narrative control. Not psyched about that.

He’s gently stroking the side of my arm now, making no effort to disguise his interest in the contours of my muscles. I use that arm to put a hand on his shoulder in an affable way, so that he’s forced to stop.

Dirk: I heard that Dirk has an 8-pack

Wait I already think I made that joke

He takes in every drop of light reflecting from my beautiful face. The sculpted cheekbones, the warrior’s eyebrows, the deadly serious yet exquisitely kissable mouth. This is the face he lives for now. A visage that, in mere minutes, will vanish from his life forever. The tears drop. His voice cracks.

Fuck OFF dude. I hate you so goddamn much.

I miss gamzee. GAMZEE. Can you believe that shit?????????

Also it’s so incredibly shitty that jane won the election against karkat

like there’s no way there’s gonna be any kind of resistance now for like, plenty of reasons, one being that it wouldn’t even start in the first place. Now jane’s gonna slide to Literal Genocide but with no opposition this time

god this is wack

Meat 40

I am so tired of seeing this fools orange text

Please god

Also I hate that homestuck has me counting exclamation marks to make sure theres not a significant number of them (8. 8 is the significant number)

Thinking about dave’s speech at dirk’s funeral and Not Feeling Great

Does dirk actually think dave is going to be the one to kill him or is that just his weird decapitation fetish talking

Meat 41

Kanaya I love you and this is not your fault but jesus Christ

Kanaya: I Have Been Bamboozled

Oh shes fucking mad

KANAYA: ***I SWEAR THAT I SHALL MAKE HIM PAY DEARLY FOR STEALING MY BELOVED WIFE!***

I know that I’ll never see it happen but I hope kanaya beats dirks ass into the goddamn ground

Remember when chainsawed eridan in half and put on bloodied lipstick afterward? That’s the shit I’m talking about

Welp. Bye, jade.

Fucking. My sentiments exactly.

Alright alt calliope is using ‘he’ pronouns w/ Roxy so I’m assuming that’s right, considering alt calliope has access to Roxy’s thoughts and shit

fuck you you punk-ass bitch

Meat 43

I have never in my life been more relieved to see red text instead of orange

Things are still pretty fucking awful, though. I haven’t forgotten that.

sdfghjkl

see things are 100% Very Bad rn but this isn’t like completely impossible to read? Like I enjoyed parts of the epilogue, didn’t enjoy other parts. But the a lot of the parts I didn’t enjoy just were so painful to read. It was damn near impossible sometimes. And like, I get what you’re trying to do, but imo tough subjects don’t necessarily need to be written in a way that makes me so viscerally upset lol

anyway what I’m saying is that I’m not viscerally upset right now. Considering I’m nearing the end, this is a good thing.

karkat is talking about how dumb the concept of incest is and is being a jerk about how roxy’s dressed. I am upset again.

Thank god dave is here to save the fucking day

I just sneezed and heard crackling in my ears. I’ve been hearing shit like that for a solid two months now. Is there fluid in my ears? Do I have an ear infection? How long do ear infections last?

I’m love them

They still don’t know john is dead ): ): ):

Thank fucking god

At least there’s the possibility that they’ll see john again and that calliope is going to provide some fucking guidance

Also arent epilogues supposed to RESOLVE SHIT and not like. Leave me hanging like this. I can tell it’s to leave me hanging and listen. Listen. I just want to be free.

I’m going to be 40 goddamn years old and homestuck: the sequel is going to come out and the characters are going to be 42 and dealing with the exact issues that I’m dealing with as a 40 year old and it’ll launch me into an at-least-a-month-long spiral of fruitless self-reflection while I cry about it

Oh god fucking dammit

What was his sacrifice, even? Having sex with terezi?

Sorry. I’m just bitter.

In any case, in addition to like, weakening LE enough for alt calliope to presumably kill him, I do think it has something to do with terezi. I don’t think her role in things is quite over yet.

Meat Postscript

Okay so we’re back to candy?

Or, at least, where candy left off

Did. Alt calliope eat LE. Is that what happens when cherubs defeat one another. Did I manage to forget this cannibalistic detail.

Did dirk influence Obama to make davebot so davebot could join forces with alt-calliope to go against dirk, or was that Obama intentionally going up against dirk

Did I really type that sentence with my own fingers

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

These are a dope couple of paragraphs

Also I know that this probably goes against everything I just read but I hope this means I never have to read about an offshoot timeline again

Like I get that that was all Homestuck Brand Fuckery but I need like 300 months to recover

21 hours of reading later and I don’t really know what to

#derseday #homestuck #upd8 #also this looks fucking wack on mobile #so dont even look i guess

33 notes · View notes

welllpthisishappening · 5 years

Note

So I think that I sent you a babbling, semi-incoherent ask a couple of weeks ago that tumblr may have eaten. It was (sort of) a prompt about CS, snark and banter, and Santa!Con. But then I started to think - did you already write that fic? Did it sound to me like something right up your alley because you'd done it? If so, forgive me for not remembering! Also, I'm looking everywhere for a fic of yours I know I read about CS and a proposal attempt at Rockefeller Center, but I can't find it. Halp!!

Oh nooooo I never got that!! Well, this must be remedied at once, don’t you think? So, first off, I did write about a proposal at Rockefeller Center last year. It’s Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand and is basically my thoughts about public proposals and people taking pictures of a moment that isn’t theirs. As far as Santa Con goes, he’s some slightly proposal-type words with an incredibly drunk Killian Jones and vaguely stunned Emma Swan.

“Is everything spinning?”

Emma chuckles, wrapping her fingers around Killian’s arm in a rather pitiful attempt to keep him balanced. He’s sitting down. That does not appear to be making much of a difference.

“Your hat is going to fall off if you can’t sit up straight,” she says, and he makes a noise she’s never heard before. But, to be fair, she’s never actually seen him this drunk before and that includes David’s last birthday when the Knicks lost their first-round playoff series and the whole night ended with several oversized vessels for alcohol and the promise that it’s really a matter of dignity, Swan when it came to finishing every single drop.

“Sod the hat,” Killian grumbles. He slumps forward, the top flipping over, which only ends with the little pom pom thing bumping against his nose and Emma really has had far too much alcohol to deal with any of this.

She’s still not entirely sure why they agreed to this – but Ruby can be incredibly persuasive, demanding, when she wants to and Mary Margaret had done that doe-eyed thing and even Elsa said it sounded like fun. That had only gotten David to make some kind of noise of victory and Emma had sighed dramatically no less than half a dozen times before Killian agreed he’d wear a hat if they’d all shut up about it.

And so the Santa Con plan was born.

Ruby bought them matching hats.

“That’s a very old fashioned sounding sentence you know,” Emma points out, Killian making some kind of noise that she hopes is an agreement.

“I’m an old fashioned kind of gentleman.”

The laugh that bubbles out of her is decidedly alcohol-fueled and a little more like a giggle than Emma really wants, but the whole thing is also pretty goddamn endearing and those cookie shots at the last bar had been especially potent.

The room is definitely spinning.

There are so many people dressed like Santa Claus.

“Yeah, that’s definitely true,” Emma mumbles. It’s much harder than it probably should be to pull her arm up, resting her palm on the side of Killian’s cheek. He leans into it, eyes fluttering shut in a way that makes it almost too obvious how long his lashes are.

Emma bites her lip.

“But that’s a good thing,” she adds. His lips quirk up.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. How many cookie shots did you have?”

“Way too many,” Killian admits, eyes still closed. He moves his head slightly, a low groan in the back of his throat when the room very likely starts spinning again, but Emma forgets to be worried about that as soon as his lips brush over the back of her wrist. “I really like you, you know.”

She blinks. And waits for the rest of that sentence. It never comes.

And it’s not really surprising. She’s somewhere in the realm of one-hundred percent positive he likes her. Loves her, in fact. A lot. Like. Well, a lot. More than she thought possible and Emma hopes her heart can handle the rather sudden wave of alcohol-based emotions its being force to contend with.

It’s not surprising.

It’s normal and she’s not used to it, probably won’t ever be used to it, because it still makes it feel as if she’s glowing from the inside out when he says things like that, but it’s also kind of par for the course or tradition or something. Or, at least getting there.

She hopes so.

She’s been kind of thinking about it.

And Ruby claimed that Santa Con could count as some kind of quasi bachelorette party for both her and Belle. That made Emma’s heart thud too.

“Good to know,” Emma says, hating how breathless her voice has turned.

“I’m serious.”

“Oh, I know you are.”

Killian opens his eyes, far too blue to be anything except distracting even with all the alcohol metaphors. He kisses her skin again, nipping softly until Emma makes a noise that’s closer to a yelp than she’d like. It makes him smile. “Just,” he continues, and it’s almost impressive how he manages to elongate four letters into what sounds like several thousand, “God, you’re so pretty.”

Emma has no idea what noise she makes. It’s not a laugh. Or a scoff. It’s not even disbelief. It might actually be joy.

Her heart feels like it’s expanding.

“What?”

Killian nods earnestly, and Emma hopes this isn’t actually a dream. That’d be kind of disappointing. “That was the first thing I noticed, you know.”

“That I was pretty?”

“It’s not that super—superfi—“

“Superficial?”

“That,” he mutters, humming softly when Emma’s fingers move into his hair. The hat is a lost cause. She’s fairly sure someone has already stepped on it. And Mary Margaret may be singing carols on the other side of the bar. “Smart.”

“Smart and pretty, huh? God, I sound unstoppable.”

“Stopped me. Right in my tracks.”

Emma’s smile threatens to strain the muscles in her face. “That so?”

“Yuh huh. Belle said she wanted me to meet her girlfriend’s friend and you were there and your hair.”

“My hair?”

“It’s so…yellow.”

“Seriously how many cookie shots did you have?”

Killian scowls, a twist of lips that probably shouldn’t be attractive. Emma’s breath catches when he wraps his fingers around her wrist. “That’snotimportant,” he mumbles. They should probably find a seat with a back. This stool suddenly seems incredibly dangerous.

He shifts again, letting go of her arm and that’s only slightly disappointing. That, of course, is until his fingers card through the ends of Emma’s hair, letting the strands fall across his palm and over her shoulder and she’s not entirely sure what to do with the look on his face.

Like he’s a little stunned to still see her there.

“I like you so much,” he says again, half to himself. Emma’s heart does not care.

“So you’ve mentioned.”

“I want you to know.”

“Babe, trust me, I know,” Emma promises, ducking into his slightly blurry eye line. He smirks – or at least tries, one side of his mouth tugging up and free hand falling to her hip with an almost audible thump. “I really like you too. Maybe we should get you some water. And some food. Something greasy.”

“You want onion rings.”

“This is not about what I want.”

“Do you mean that?” Killian asks. Emma narrows her eyes.

“Mean what?”

“The—liking, I—“ He takes a deep breath, a hint of nerves that do not make sense with the man at all and Emma’s heart thuds for a totally different reason. Mary Margaret is definitely still singing.

“Were you doubting that? Because we could definitely make out some if you want, although we may get arrested for public indecency.”

He laughs, short and quick and still a hint nervous. Emma only just realizes she’s never actually moved her hand – her arm is starting to ache from holding it up for so long, but Killian definitely leans into the touch again and she really likes being able too feel him smile.

What a weirdo. It’s probably the alcohol.

It’s not.

“No,” Killian whispers. “But I want—“

“What?”

“Everything.”

Emma is very impressed her knees don’t give out. They wobble slightly. “I don’t—“

“It’s got to be perfect,” he says, barely giving her a chance to finish her half-finished thought. “That’s what you deserve and what we should—better than Mary Margaret and David. Way better than Ruby and Belle.”

Emma shakes her head slowly, trying to push past the admittedly rather large amount she’s had to drink to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. Her right knee gives out when she realizes.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, and Killian’s gaze gets hazier. He hooks his foot around her leg. That doesn’t make standing any easier.

“Perfect,” he repeats. “I’ve got—it’s going to be perfect.”

“What?”

“There’ll be kissing. We won’t be wearing Santa hats. Probably.”

“Probably?”

He hums, another far too serious nod and maybe the problem isn’t her heart at all. It might be her lungs. They appear to be shrinking. “Definitely,” Killian amends. “I want to do it at home.”

“We have one of those.”

She says it like it’s not the single most important sentence in the world, but Killian can’t seem to stop nodding and the footsteps coming towards them sound impossibly loud. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Together. Then we can make out.”

“Is that the goal?”

“With no clothes.”

“I think that may qualify as more than making out, babe,” Emma says, a forced lightness to her voice.

“Just the ring.”

She’s going to die. Right there – surrounded by several thousand drunk Santas and her equally drunk friends and her whole body shakes when David claps her on the shoulder.

“Hey,” David says brightly, Mary Margaret tucked against his side. They’re both still wearing their hats. Emma’s might be somewhere on Ninth Avenue. “You guys want to get some food?”

Emma doesn’t answer. She may nod. It feels like she nods, but she’s also trying to fight off death, so…

Killian, for his part, doesn’t appear to realize what he’s said or done, just tugs Emma closer to him and lets his lips drag across the side of her jaw and, really, dying in a Midtown bar a few weeks before Christmas would be so goddamn disappointing.

It would definitely make her a meme.

“You ok, Em?” Mary Margaret asks. Emma hopes she nods again. “Fries? Mozzarella sticks?”

“Onion rings,” Killian answers.

“Ah, good call. Where’s your hat?”

“Don’t know.”

He kisses behind Emma’s ear before Mary Margaret can say anything else.

And, honestly, if asked Emma would say she doesn’t consider the potential for a proposal the rest of the night. She’s far too busy telling Ruby the hats don’t matter and eating what must be some kind of record for onion ring consumption and navigating Midtown is a challenge she almost fails completely.

They opt not to take the Subway – far too many bridge and tunnelers in Port Authority – meandering up Tenth Ave instead on the assumption that it will be easier to hail a cab. It’s not. They’re too clearly drunk. And dressed like Santa.

“This is Santa prejudice,” Emma mumbles, nearly twenty blocks away from the last bar and Killian makes the world’s most ridiculous noise against the back of her neck.

“We’re not that far.”

“From home?” He makes the noise again. “You want to walk home?”

“I know you don’t want to pay for a cab anymore.”

That’s true. Emma doesn’t say that. She doesn’t have to – particularly when he tilts her head up to kiss her scrunched nose, fingers lacing through hers as they trek further uptown. Slowly, but surely.

It takes her several tries to open the door and a few more tries to get out of her boots and she’s not exactly expecting anything, but she kind of thought about the potential for a proposal and lying to herself is not an attractive quality. They don’t make out. They barely even make it to the bed, falling onto the mattress without moving the blankets or the pillows and Killian doesn’t take his belt off before he tugs Emma against his chest and they fall asleep with the lights on.

She may still be drunk when she wakes up the next morning – bits of sunlight poking through the curtains and a distinct lack of perspective fiancé next to her. Emma groans when she sits up, running a hand across her face. There’s noise coming from the kitchen.

She definitely uses the wall as support when she walks.

And Killian smiles when he turns towards her. He took his belt off at some point.

“How you feeling?”

Emma shrugs. “You were way more drunk than me. You take anything?”

“Probably more Ibuprofen than I’m supposed to, honestly.”

She laughs softly, leaning back against the counter and ignoring everything that appears to be fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “That help at all?”

“A little,” Killian says, handing her glass of water and several large pills. “Something about modern medicine, love.”

“You’re not a doctor.”

“But I was way more drunk than you and still alive, so—“

“—Well, who am I to argue with that?”

“Exactly.”

He doesn’t stop looking at her while she downs the pills, which is only a little unnerving, but that may be the fluttering and—“How much do you remember from yesterday?” Killian asks, the same hint of nerves in every single letter.

Emma nearly chokes on tap water.

Killian winces. “Was that all real, then? Not a dream?”

“Depends on what kind of dreams you’re having, I guess.”

“Ones that include all of that going much better than they actually did.”

He hisses in a breath of air, only to huff it out just as quickly, the tips of his ears going red when he takes a step back. And Emma doesn’t really think before she follows him, just moves into his space and rests her hand on his cheek again and—“I was so jealous of Ruby and Belle claiming Santa Con as some kind of bachelorette party, I could hardly see straight.”

Killian’s eyes widen.

“I really like you too,” Emma adds. “Like. An absurd amount, honestly. And, I um—“ She takes a deep breath. Her body doesn’t entirely appreciate it. “It’s always going to be you and I, well, it’d be yes. No matter when it happens.”

She barely gets the words out before he’s kissing her. It’s nice. It’s a hell of a lot better than nice, but they’re both very clearly hungover and Emma is still holding water and none of this went according to the very real plan Killian had.

He had a plan.

With her.

Emma can feel his smile against her mouth.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“I think that’s kind of a prerequisite of this, honestly.”

“Emma.”

“I love you too,” she says, and it feels like a guarantee and a promise and they barely get off the couch all day.

And he does, eventually, ask – telling Ruby we’re not going out on New Year’s, tugging a box out of his pocket at 9:47 p.m. because that’s the same time Emma showed up at the bar that very first time and it makes her heart thud and expand and a slew of other verbs it probably shouldn’t, but she kisses him before she answers.

“Swan,” Killian mutters, already doing his best to get her shirt off. The ring looks particularly good on her left hand.

“Yes.”

#cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #WHAT IS THIS #WHO KNOWS #can't stop won't stop writing christmas fic #that's what it is really #idristardis #laura rambles

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mysteli · 5 years

Text

Rant and Rave (Alana X MC)

A/N: Heya! So here is my first ever fic for Alana and Kari. I wasn’t sure about it when it wrote it because I thought the idea was a little weird but I think it turned out to okay. Was gonna be NSFW but then I decided to focus on emotions and first feeling and tensions. Hope it’s good but I’ll definitely have a better one out eventually.

Warning: T (slight innuendo and swearing - also include some sensitive topics)

PERMA TAG LIST: @brightpinkpeppercorn @cocomaxley @hopefulmoonobject@alesana45 @jellybean-marshmellow@mymandrake @regrettingnathan @dobie2112 @princesstopgun @mechaspirit @skyila @mind-reader1 @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @sakaily @justboredtrash @regina-and-happiness @flyawayblue56 @annekebbphotography @endlessly-searching-for-you @reginasayeed @christopher-powell @zigortega4life @eileendannie @diamondoasis @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @emomoustache @alekai-sayeed @akrenich @vickypoo91 @lostlightningbug

This fic: @kamilahsayood @endlesstaylormckenzie@nitta-jaeguet @hayden-park @kamilahtrash @boneandfur @h-doodles @llancellott

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! 💗and let me know if the tags work because Tumblr is acting up.

Masterlist

Kari can feel the stress rising from her abdomen to her heart and she can’t help but paint a million pictures of a tortured Damien in her mind, imagining how pained and alone he must feel right now, isolated in an iron cell and constantly provoked by the manipulative games that Eros create for him. All his worries dragged through him as he hopes and prays that all of us are okay and preparing to rescue him.

What Kari can’t understand is why it’s taking so long. They should have found him by now. Maybe he’s starting to lose hope that they’ll ever get to him and that’s the last thing that Kari wants. It’s the last thing any of them want, well maybe besides Alana.

Alana showed up out of the blue and things seemed to be going nowhere until she decided to help. Lately, they’ve been getting closer, finally catching at least one lead that may lure them closer to Damien. There are simpler ways but no way in hell is Kari accepting Cecile’s deal. She vowed to save Damien and she won’t quit until he’s back by her side.

Right now, Kari can’t take it. While the night roars on, she slipped out of the hotel room where they’re staying in Tokyo and ventured to the nearest bar, which has become her only escape lately. She almost can hear Damien’s stern voice scolding her in her own head every time she sips from a shot. He’d be telling her to stop drowning in a drink and start composing herself. Hell... he’d tell to just forget about him the right way and she hates that he’d say that.

Shot after shot. Drink after drink. Bottle after bottle. But she still isn’t drunk. There’s an endless amount of stress writhing within Kari and not even a million drinks could make that melt away. Only finding Damien. That’s the only thing that would help.

Kari can feel her mind spinning with questions, wonders and regrets, as she contemplates everything she should have said to Damien. To everyone in her life really. The things she doesn’t have the guts to say. Even Alana. Kari can’t even bring herself to say a simple ‘thank you’ to Alana and she can’t even explain why.

Sitting propped on a stool by the bar, Kari can feel shivers running down her spine over and over again, as a clear image of Alana Kusuma enters her mind. Why is it so clear? It should be blurry like everyone else in her life. No. Alana is clear, easy to see but so hard to figure out.

She’s different to anyone else that Kari has ever met and certainly one of the craziest. So crazy but in the damn best way. Probably the sexiest woman to ever grace this earth as well. Everything about her. The way she struts, saunters and storms. The way she speaks in that low, teasing tone. The way her ombré hair dances in the wind as she wanders away. The way her hazel eyes sparkle with an intensity only ever suited for her. Kari can’t describe the woman enough because there are too many words to use.

Such a badass. That’s what Alana is. A straight up badass.

Hold up. Why is Kari even thinking about this? This is Alana we’re talking about. Damien’s ex-partner, in both ways. A woman way out of Kari’s league. Of course, Alana would never go for someone like Kari. She’s mellow, vanilla, not ready to deal with someone on such a level as Alana Kusuma. Who could? Exactly. No one. She’s fucking perfect.

Kari quickly shoves all those thoughts to the back of her mind and takes a long sip of the vodka in her hand, before slamming it back on the surface of the bar. She’s had enough of all this conspiracy. She just wants her friends back and then she wants it to be over. She never thought she’d say this but... she wants to be normal again.

“Well, well, well. Thought I’d find you here.” A voice suddenly calls out to Kari and she can feel herself shaking at the lustful impact that circles the tone of that certain voice, immediately giving the identity of the owner away.

Kari barely tilts her head and that’s enough to catch sight of a mischievous glint that naturally brightens Alana Kusuma’s eyes. It’s a look impossible to mistake and it’s what makes her so damn addictive.

Rolling her eyes, Kari swerves around on her stool, tensing up at Alana’s irresistible exterior. Her ombré hair appears even brighter within the light that looms from the ceiling. Her hazel eyes narrow with curiosity and she scanning Kari in an eager manor, darting back and forth occasionally. She’s dressed in a red halter top and a pair of tight, black skinny jeans that cling to her skin and highlight her every curve. Kari licks her lips, trying to make it come across as a constant habit instead of a sign of hunger.

Alana forms an intrigued smirk, folding her arms rather casually. “What happened to your voice? Is it all the alcohol?” She suggests, gesturing towards all the empty shots scattered on the surface of the bar around Kari, who has now snapped out of her trance.

For a moment, she’s dazed and is unsure what to say. “I’m not trying to get drunk. I’m... stress-drinking.” Kari pulls out her worst excuse and Alana just rolls her eyes in response, sauntering over to Kari as her hips sway with the music that plays in the background, becoming a distant memory by the time Alana reaches Kari.

A sudden look of concern crosses Alana’s face, replacing all the mischief and confidence that smirk of hers brought to the atmosphere before. Now her expression is full of worry... genuine concern. Alana almost instinctively places her hand on Kari’s shaking shoulder, stroking ever so slightly on the soft skin as goosebumps gradually rise in reaction.

“We all miss Damien, Kari.” Alana points out, as Kari closes her eyes and releases a heavy sigh, immediately feeling ashamed and ridiculous.

“...I know. I just had to get outta there.” Kari admits, taking another deep sip out of the bottle she clutches firmly in her hand.

Alana scoffs that her insinuation. “What? Why? We’re actually getting somewhere. Isn’t that what you wanted? Thought you were the one who had all the hope and determination needed to find Damien.” Alana states as bluntly as possible, even though she tries so hard to be reassuring. Turns out, she isn’t really good at it.

Kari drops her flask and hides her face in her hands, completely avoiding eye contact with Alana, knowing a mockery might be made of her. “Yeah... right. That’s what I’m supposed to be. That’s what I told myself I would be. But what have I done since Damien left? Just passed around some shitty reassurance.” Kari snaps, clearly at herself but Alana is still unexpectedly impacted by a slight ounce of hurt.

Alana arches her eyebrows, moving her hand further up Kari’s arm, causing her to flinch and tilt her head in a frustrated manor. “What the hell are you saying any of that for? You’ve done more for Damien than anyone else in this damn super squad of yours. And you sure as hell have done more for everyone else. The reason anyone is even trying to save Damien... is because of you.” Alana assures, quickly positioning herself on the bar stool beside Kari and rubbing her shoulder, a lot closer than she’d usually choose to be but today is different than any usual day.

Kari can’t help but form a weak smile, no matter how strong her frustration is. She raises an eyebrow at Alana, who has an unnaturally genuine look on her face - one no one has ever seen before. Maybe not even Damien. It’s strange to think about how close Kari and Alana could become and perhaps they’re already halfway there. Kari has never felt more drawn to someone like the way she does with Alana. It’s crazy to think such a mad idea would ever become a reality but here they are and now Kari may never wanna let go.

“Are you serious? I don’t know why the hell Damien let go of you. You’re not as awful as he described you.” Kari jokes, trying to lighten the mood and break the icy silence, which is successful since she earns a light laugh from Alana, which doesn’t come out as a devious chuckle like usual.

“Because he’s an idiot.” Alana returns, flipping her hair behind her and smirking mischievously and Kari can feel a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. “But that idiot needs saving and don’t worry... we’re gonna get him out of whatever hellhole Eros is keeping him in.”

Kari’s smile widens and she finally feels a form of hope. “Really?”

Alana grins back, her fingers crawling over Kari’s shoulder and her nails graze the pale skin of Kari’s neck, causing shivers to shoot like missiles up and down her spine, awakening feelings in her that she’d felt before - especially around Alana of all people.

“Really.”

Alana leans in closer, her hand drifting to run through Kari’s silver hair, tangling her fingers between the strands. Kari parts her lips slightly and snakes her hand over Alana’s arm that rests on the surface of the bar. Nothing has ever felt this anticipated before, at least for Kari. There’s never been so much energy or tension dragged into one specific moment. Who knew the world would waste so much on people like them? Those who have been to hell and back. Those who have fought and never stopped fighting because of what they believe in. Saving those who sacrifice.

Well, Kari might as well enjoy the simple, almost normal moment the world has gifted to her. Something far from normal however. Alana Kusuma. A chance to fulfill what seemed like an impossible fantasy and Kari doesn’t plan to take for granted. Alana leans in further until her breath is heavily hovering over Kari’s plump lips. It almost feels like she’s going in for a kiss until...

“Woah...” A fascinated voice echoes in the distance but still loud enough to break the moment and force Alana and Kari apart. The moment of reassurance has faded away, ruined by such an insistent tone.

The designation of the voice seems to exist behind Kari and she swerves around on her stool, still slightly dazed from the impact of the tension she’d just experienced as she retrieves her flask from the edge of the bar - taking a long swig as an attempt to calm herself down and this seems like the best solution to soothe her and help her compose herself. All her mixed emotions are out of control right now and she can’t sustain a steady conscience.

Alana just raises an eyebrow mockingly at the owner of the voice who interrupted, a complete stranger as drunk as the days go on. Slightly older, middle-aged as a best guess. Tall, around six-foot. Intimidating... maybe but that ridiculous smile only makes him come across as creepy and condescending. Lord knows they’re in for a right nightmare.

He seems so fascinated by Kari, scanning her exterior a little too intriguingly. Alana acts on instinct and scowls, barely able to stay put in her seat instead of completely murdering the drunk maniac ogling Kari like she’s an object for him to purchase. Alana isn’t jealous, just sees it as disgusting behaviour.

Kari eyes the man strangely, starting to feel slightly uneasy and she knows it isn’t just the alcohol but the intimidation bouncing off the man, who’s presence seems to have caused nausea to rise within both Kari and Alana.

“Can I help you?” Kari asks, only then does she realise how close the man had gotten. Hearing that request, he squats down so he’s on level with Kari, who remains seated in her stool and that’s when she wants nothing more than to escape this dreaded situation. Alana just watches with narrowed eyes, complete caution lurking within the hazel shade.

The man’s devious smile widens and he’s holding a half-full beer in his hand, while the other eagerly crosses the bar. “Damn... aren’t you a treat?” He inappropriately points out, no wariness in his to whatsoever, symbolising that he has absolutely no regrets for saying that out loud.

Kari is immediately taken aback, as she sucks in a sharp breath. “What...”

“I’m just sayin’ you’re easy on the eyes. A fuckable girl if I’ve ever seen one.” The man adds, winking at Kari and that only means he’s asking for a slap in his face and that’s when his intentions become undeniably clear.

Kari narrows her eyes suspiciously, as she attempts to sustain a calm manor. “Sorry. Not interested in becoming your play mate.” She clarifies, her scowl deepening and close to becoming a glare. Kari truly can’t believe she’s going through this right now but she chooses to see this situation as a dumbass drunk guy unaware of what he’s actually doing.

“Oh come on, babe... I can guarantee a good night.” The man brings out the empty promise and an uncomfortable eyebrow raise which almost causes Kari to vomit within her mouth.

“Nope... I’m gay, anyway.” Kari denies it again, sipping out of the bottle in her hand and barely holding back the need to spit it in his face but she resists, expecting him to accept his failure and disappear now.

The man just laughs, so many uneven cracks in his voice. So many bad signs. “That ain’t a problem. Bring your friend too... and I’ll watch.”

Now that comment was too damn far.

Kari cringes uncontrollably, nausea reaching her throat and threatening to escape from her mouth. Shes pretty sure half of it is the alcohol. “God no. Get outta here you creep! You’re drunk and disgusting and you better fucking leave now before I punch you off the face of this earth!” Kari snaps, an intense anger lingering in her eyes. Her feisty comments didn’t come off like threats to the man. No... but they’re played off as a turn on.

“Damn, that was hot. Maybe we don’t have to wait to get to my place...” The man trails off when his hungry gaze lands on Alana, who is death glaring him like she’s going to kill him, burning a hole in his skull. “...trust me, both of you are gonna get something great tonight.”

The man lets out a pleasured whistle and marches over to Alana, smirking at her teasingly. “And you might just get the better treatment, hun.”

With that, Alana has heard enough. Acting on pure instinct, her temper breaks and she yanks the man by his ear and twists it relentlessly in her grasp, causing him to gasp out in pain. Alana snarls with zero regret, eyeing the creep with complete disrespect - nothing but endless threats looming over her mind as her deadly glare burns bullet holes through the stranger.

“You ain’t gonna find the one night stand you want here, asshole.” Alana whispers so intensely that it actually frightens the man, causing him to stagger back as he attempts to escape her firm grip but she reacts by slapping him straight in the face, regaining his attention. “Drinks ain’t gonna give you the fuel you need to flirt and you sure as hell have no right to harass someone I care about.” She adds, a threatening tension building and she finishes off her statement by punching him square in the face once more.

Alana just admires her handy work, smirking deviously at what she’d done and she has the right to be proud. This guy is a complete jerk. Unable to resist, she punches him in the face a few more times, resulting with a black eye and a bruise on his left cheek. One more punch and his lip is left bleeding. With that, Alana’s smile widens and shoves the man away, dropping his ear and waving at him as he staggered back, trembling.

“You’re one scary bitch,” is all he manages to say before stumbling out of the bar and causing the entire audience in the bar to erupt into applause but it doesn’t mean anything to Alana. She just rolls her eyes and escapes the bar, grabbing Kari by the wrist, despite her being shaken and stunned, and leading the silver-haired girl out the bar.

At first, Kari is confused as they wander out, wondering why Alana even did that. In some way, it’s understandable. That man was an asshole, a tool, who had no right to harass women the way he did just now. Who would believe that in this day and age someone was still capable of acting like that? It’s disgusting and Alana couldn’t just stand around and watch someone she cares about a little too much go through that. A sickening sight, it truly was and Alana is proud that she stepped in. One of her best performances, really.

This has been one hell of a night and Alana doesn’t plan for it to stop there. Kari wants an escape from thinking about all the chaos with finding Damien and Alana will sure as hell find a way to distract Kari. It’s now or never and who knows if Kari even feels the same way? But with her current state of mind, her choices may be limited.

With that, Alana acts on instinct once again and leads Kari into a nearby alleyway that exits further down the street where the bar is built. At first, Kari is confused, wondering why they would ever venture into an empty, deserted alleyway at this time of night when there’s nobody around and they’ve been through a pretty tough situation tonight. Something nobody should ever have to go through but they did.

Kari struggles to get used to their new surroundings, curiously raising her eyebrows at Alana, who is just standing there with her hazel eyes admiring Kari’s stunning exterior, sighing at each perfectly placed curve. It all belongs to her. Why is Alana even feeling this way now? She shouldn’t be but she is. Is she drunk? Hell no. Is she stupid? Probably. But she can’t help it and she’s never shied away from anything in her goddamn life and she ain’t about to start now.

“I’m sorry about what that guy did to you.” Alana apologises almost as if it was her fault, which it most definitely wasn’t.

Kari’s eyebrows collide with concern and she avoids eye contact with Alana, sighing hesitantly. “I don’t wanna talk about that. He was a jerk and his intentions were awful. That’s the bottom line.” She clarifies, folding her arms as if to stop herself from shivering in the crispy cold that lurks within the alleyway.

Silence. It erupts ever so suddenly, infecting the thoughts of Alana and Kari and leading them in for deep contemplation. It doesn’t last long however, as Alana has already decided what she wants to do. What she needs to do.

Alana cautiously steps closer to Kari, the corner of her mouth curving up a little. Kari furrows her brows in a questioning manor, clearly bewildered.

“Alana, why are you looking at me like—“

Before Kari can even dare to get her words out, Alana rushes towards her and cups her cheek, dragging their lips together and immediately melting into an easily flowing rhythm of glorious kisses that fulfil any fantasy Alana had experienced when picturing what this moment would look like. It’s exactly like she imagined and maybe even better.

Everything is so fucking perfect.

The taste of Kari’s plump lips. Sweet and sour but in the best way possible, with a lingering scent of raw alcohol from all the stress-relieving. The feeling of Kari’s body, as Alana’s hands snake around her waste and roam further to explore her petite figure. Everything is exactly the right place and nothing feels wrong. It’s all so right and Alana doesn’t know why she’s waited this long to act out on this impulse. What the hell was holding her back?

Kari remains startled at first before soon enough melting into the kiss and matching Alana’s level of urgency and passion. She’s never experienced such insistence like this before. Something so forceful and without choice. She cups Alana’s cheek and tilts her head, causing her lips to part slightly and allowing Kari to slip her tongue into Alana’s mouth, allowing her own to do the same. This adds more fuel to the fire burning inside of both of them. Their hearts electrify with an intensity never before felt by such warriors.

This moment is like a survival instinct. It needs to be done even if someone is afraid.

Alana throws even more caution to the wind and slams Kari back against the crumbling, brick wall, causing her to moan slightly at the impact and she begins running her hands through the tousled strands of Alana’s ombré hair. The tension only intensifies. The heat only rises. The want continues to build until it can’t be ignored.

Kari pulls away for a mere second to catch her breath and in that moment, she can’t help but let out a light laugh, causing Alana to wake up from the moment herself and raise her eyebrows at Kari questioningly.

“Why the hell are you laughing?” Alana asks in a quiet tone, keeping their faces close.

Kari continues to giggle ever so quietly, in complete disbelief. “I don’t know... did that really just happen? Did I just kiss Alana Kusuma?” She questions, almost to herself and her laughter increases slightly.

Alana just smirks at the reaction, taking this as an opportunity to break Kari’s laughter and silence her with another lingering kiss, built with just as much fire and passion as before but it’s slightly softer. More tender, if you will. More meaningful, carrying a little more emotion instead of instinct.

“You better believe it, baby.” Alana whispers in a sexy, irresistible tone. “And trust me... you are gonna get distracted tonight.

#fan fiction #playchoices #choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #alana x mc #perfect match #pm #choices pm #alana kusuma #choices fanfic #not sure bout this fic yet

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years

Link

Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray’s stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn’t that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough.

Chapter Summary: Gray lies to keep himself safe, and Natsu tries to help.

Chapters (3/17): 1 | 2 | 3 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can’t leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019, Coming Out, First Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, I promise

** TW for verbal/emotional abuse and depressed/implied suicidal thoughts

-----

i hope people change

fear \ ˈfir noun : an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger

vii april

Gray is several blocks away from the hotel when he realizes that he forgot his jacket, and he has no idea where he is. They had taken a cab from the bar, and Gray had been too busy kissing Natsu to focus on where they were going. The streetlights blur together as he looks around desperately for something familiar.

His phone starts to buzz in his pocket and a wave of panic rushes through Gray as he ducks into a side alley and looks down at the screen.

Incoming Call – Joel

“Shit,” he whispers.

Gray’s hands shake so badly that he nearly drops the phone. He can’t answer – Joel will hear that he’s wasted and find out that Gray’s not at home. But if Gray ignores the call, it might be worse.

The terror and intoxication and guilt all hit him at the same time, and he turns to the side and throws up on the ground. Rough brick scrapes against his bare arm as he leans heavily on the wall, retching and choking until nothing comes up but bile. It burns the back of his throat and his eyes water so badly he can barely see.

His phone buzzes again with a text – Answer your phone. Two seconds later it starts ringing again, and Gray groans, tipping his head back against the wall and hitting ‘accept.’

“Hey,” he says weakly, trying his best not to slur his words. The ground feels like it’s moving underneath him and he swallows hard, focusing on a crack in the brick across the alley.

“Why didn’t you answer the first time?” Joel’s voice is hard and sharp, and Gray swallows back tears, wiping his face. “I’ve been texting you all night, what the hell is going on?”

“I’m sorry,” Gray says, squeezing his eyes shut. He’s sure Joel can hear his pounding heart through the phone.

“Where are you?”

Continue reading on AO3

A million answers run through Gray’s mind. He can't say he’s at home – Joel can probably hear the traffic from the street, and he’ll ask Gray to prove it by taking a picture of himself. But if Gray says he’s out, and he sounds drunk...

“I just left the drugstore,” he lies, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I was—I don’t feel good. I think I have the flu so I went to get some Gravol.” There’s silence on the other end of the line, and Gray quickly adds, “I’m sorry, I was asleep, I didn’t see your texts.”

“Your phone is supposed to be on,” Joel says, but some of the sharpness has melted away from his voice.

“I left it in the living room,” Gray says, taking a step back from the puddle of vomit at his feet. His stomach roils and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from throwing up again. “I’m sorry.”

Joel sighs, and Gray can picture the disappointed look on his face. “I was worried about you,” Joel says, and his voice is suddenly soft and concerned. “Don’t scare me like that, baby. I didn’t mean to get mad, you just worry me. I care about you.”

Part of Gray believes him. It is his fault – he shouldn’t be lying, shouldn’t be out drinking, shouldn’t be making out with his ex-boyfriend while his current boyfriend is out of town.

A quiet, sad part of him whispers, you deserve better. You shouldn’t have to be afraid.

“I’m sorry,” Gray says again.

There's silence on the other end of the line, and it’s almost worse than the yelling.

“I’m coming home,” Joel says finally, and Gray’s intoxicated brain finally hears the traffic in the background of Joel’s call. He’s in his car.

Shit.

“You—you don’t have to,” Gray tries to protest, but Joel cuts him off.

“If you’re sick, I wanna take care of you.” The words are caring, but Gray can feel the edge behind them. Joel doesn’t believe him. “I’ll be home in a few hours, okay?”

Gray digs his fingernails into his palm as his mind starts racing. He can’t get out of this – Joel will know Gray’s lying as soon as he gets home. If Gray spends money on a cab, Joel will see it on the credit card statement, and Gray won’t have the Gravol or the receipt from the drugstore, and he smells like beer and probably like Natsu’s cologne, and—

“I’ll see you soon,” Joel says. “Answer your phone the next time I call you.”

Then the line goes dead, and Gray leans over and throws up again, giving in to the fear and nausea.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Natsu’s there in the alley suddenly, arm wrapped around Gray’s shoulders, rubbing his arm.

“G-go ‘way,” Gray mumbles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Everything is blurry and he realizes that he’s crying. There’s a hollow ache in his chest that he can’t push away anymore, and he just wants it to end.

“I’m not going anywhere, you idiot,” Natsu says gently, and he wraps Gray’s forgotten jacket around his shoulders. He wraps his fingers around Gray’s bicep gently, but Gray pulls his arm away, backing up and hitting his elbow on the brick wall. He can’t even feel it.

“I gotta...” Gray looks down at his phone and nearly throws it to the ground. He wants to smash it to a million pieces. “I gotta go home.”

“You look like you’re gonna pass out,” Natsu says, reaching out again and brushing his fingers across Gray’s shoulder. Gray doesn’t pull away this time – he's too tired. “C’mon, come sit down with me.”

Gray gives in, letting Natsu take him by the elbow and guide him out of the alley. They head back to the hotel in silence, and when they finally sit down on the concrete bench outside the front doors, Gray’s managed to stop crying.

“I’m sorry,” Natsu says softly, rubbing his thumb over Gray’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you had a—I wouldn’t have asked, I’m—”

“’s okay,” Gray says, shaking his head. He’s exhausted, and it’s almost enough to numb the fear. “My fault, I shouldn’t be... he said to stay home, should’a listened.”

“Are you still with Joel?” Natsu asks. Gray nods, blinking to try and clear his vision.

“He’s outta town, an’... but I gotta go home, he’s coming back.”

Natsu frowns, and Gray can feel his hesitation before he asks, “Gray, are you okay?”

“’m fine,” Gray says quickly.

“You don’t seem fine,” Natsu argues, and Gray suddenly wants to scream at him.

He shoves Natsu away, pulling his jacket tighter around him. There are puddles on the street and they’re reflecting the neon lights of the 24-hour donair place across the street. Gray still doesn’t know where he is.

“Gray, I’m worried about you,” Natsu says gently. He moves from the bench to crouch down in front of Gray and puts his hand on Gray’s leg. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Gray insists, because maybe if he says it enough times, Natsu will stop asking. “I need—wh-where are we? I need to go home.”

“Kensington,” Natsu says, sighing. He squeezes Gray’s knee. “Gray, look at me.” Gray shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the dirty pavement. “Is... is Joel hurting you?”

“No,” Gray says automatically. “He’s just worried.”

His mind is racing. Kensington is on the opposite end of town from their apartment, and it’ll take at least half an hour to get home. If he flags a cab down now, he’ll have time to run to the drugstore and back to their apartment before Joel makes it there.

But then the time on the receipt will be after their phone call, and Gray still doesn’t know how he’s going to pay for the cab without Joel seeing. He used the cash he’d been saving up at the bar – he’s so fucking stupid.

“Fuck,” he whispers, dropping his head into his hands.

“How can I help?” Natsu asks. “What can I do?”

His voice is so gentle and Gray wants to cry again, but he’s got nothing left.

“Do you have any Gravol?” he asks, suddenly. Natsu gives him a strange look and shakes his head, then looks down at his phone and types something in.

“No, but there’s a drugstore just down the street,” he says. “You want me to go get some for you?”

If Natsu buys it, Gray won’t have a receipt, but it’s better than having one with the wrong time. His head hurts from the web of lies he’s tangled himself up in, and he’s starting to feel like he should just tell the truth and take what comes.

If Joel gets mad enough, maybe Gray won’t have to worry about it hurting anymore.

“Are you okay to wait here?” Natsu asks. Gray looks up at him blearily and hates the look of pity in Natsu’s eyes. “I’ll go get you the Gravol, then I’ll come back. If I pay for a cab to get you home, will that help?”

Natsu knows. He knows, and he’s trying to help, and Gray hates it.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, rubbing his face. He wants to say thank you, but he can’t.

Natsu doesn’t take long at the drugstore, and when the cab finally comes, Gray curls up in the passenger seat with the Gravol tucked in his pocket.

“Here,” Natsu says, passing Gray a piece of folded paper through the window. “I just...”

“I know,” Gray says softly, and he lets Natsu squeeze his hand before the driver pulls away.

Gray doesn’t open the paper until they’re a few blocks away from the apartment. There’s a fifty-dollar bill tucked inside, and behind it is a phone number and a note in Natsu’s messy handwriting.

I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t seem okay. I miss you. I know it’s been a long time, but I never stopped thinking about you. Text me, okay? I just wanna know if you’re safe.

Love, Natsu

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtpride2019 #day 4 #i hope people change #gratsu #natray #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #abuse #angst #mind the warnings #update #new chapter #my fic #prompt

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jae-ha · 5 years

Text

between silence and sound. »「chapter three 」

Chapter Index (Ao3) // Chapter Index (tumblr)

.summary –– [ Road trip // slight AU ] - Once Zack and Rachel leave the strange building behind, they realize, on long stretches of road and under diamond-bright stars, there are so many things to be discovered about one another.

.chapter note –– This chapter is basically just the “hurt/comfort” genre thrown in your face.

.chapter three » 「i reach for you most mornings.」

「 — sunday : 5 a.m. 」

It occurs to Zack that Rachel doesn’t have nightmares. At least, not in the same way he does. Rachel is a silent and solemn girl, and if she ever has nightmares, she never says anything about them. She conceals them as her own little secrets, allowing them to stain her mind but never to spill out of that hidden chamber. Unlike him, Rachel’s learned to exist quietly. Or rather, it’s more accurate to say that Zack no longer knows how to exist quietly.

He used to be a lot like her when he was younger— when his body was pathetically scrawny and the only emotion his blood knew was hatred. Back then, his expressions were as soulless as hers, and he often felt like his actual soul would ebb away completely had it not been stubbornly tethered to a body that was no stranger to sorrow-colored bruises and an ugly, protruding ribcage.

Regardless of the shitty hand life has dealt him, he’s never wanted to die. And that's exactly why these nightmares terrify him. Ever since he left the building where his bad memories were constantly dragged to the surface and thrown in his face, the dark dreams await him each night like some sort of twisted companion.

He was never really afraid of Cathy’s poison room or Eddie’s graveyard, but his mind magnifies these places and he relives them— this time, with no escape. When he closes his eyes, he can feel the poison choking him, easing into his lungs like he’s being possessed. He can scratch and claw and curse all he likes, but still it claims him.

Other times he sees himself buried six feet under, nostrils clogged with dirt, eyes devoured by worms, wrapped in soil, forgotten, unheard, screaming for his life. Although he refuses to be buried alive by that stupid, little brat, in his dreams, he’s as helpless as his mind chooses him to be.

Worst of all is the priest’s floor. Or rather, the staircase tucked away on the priest’s floor. Sometimes Zack’s dreams unfold right in the middle of that staircase. His body is frozen, but in that strange, omnipotent way that seems to come naturally with dreams, he knows what’s coming next. The roof shudders, the walls groan, black rubble falls, and as swift as it takes to extinguish a pulse, the flames spring up around him. He can feel the fire licking at his skin, eating him again. What he fears most is to be weak, helpless, vulnerable, and he’s all of those things when it comes to being a slave to the fire.

He can’t move— he won’t. His mind won’t let him. So he stands in the midst of it all, trembling and sweating and screaming as the fire seizes him.

Of all the pains he’s experienced —the blistering currents of the electric chair, bullets shredding through fibers of his skin, his own scythe ripping him apart— the fire is the worst. It threatens to wipe him away, to leave nothing left. To mangle him, to melt him, to corrupt and claim every last thing until he isn’t recognizable even as Isaac anymore.

Yes, many of his nightmares take place in the building, but not all of them.

Some of them are painted the colors of the orphanage. Initially, those dreams make him more infuriated than scared, but soon enough they also find a way to chill him to the core. In those dreams, he once again sits immobile, forced to hear the proprietors say, “Dig, you tool. That’s all a monster like you is good for. Finish your job so we can throw you away.”

And suddenly he’s under a spell where his limbs move on their own. His arms grab a shovel provided by phantom hands and he thrusts it into the dirt, again and again, just like back then.

He digs and digs for an eternity of seconds while their voices paint his mind’s walls with commands and insults.

“Dig, you tool.”

“Hurry up.”

“Finish your job so we can throw you away, just like your mother did.”

At some point his shovel hits the graying bones of whomever he’s burying, and the same phantom force lifts him into the air before suddenly letting go. It’s then that he realizes he’s falling. Falling into the grave he dug himself.

They throw him away without another word, into the dark, because his purpose is now fulfilled and it’s too costly to keep him breathing. He reaches out a hand, but no one is there to grab it, no one wants to grab it, but still he reaches out, gasping and grasping for anyone to save him to please, please, save him—

And his hand always finds Rachel’s.

His eyes fly open as the nightmare finally relinquishes him. He jolts into a sitting position, struggling to take in as much air as his quivering lungs can handle. The nightmares come often, but there are few times when they are so potent that they leak out from his mind and affect his physical body. His hoodie gets stained with sweat, his chest gets clouded with shock, his throat burns as he forces himself to take deep breaths in an attempt to cool it. On those nights, he throws out his hands and they always grab onto something. He shouts out a name and it’s always the same one.

His soul always finds its way back to Rachel.

And he hates it.

Never in his life has he searched for comfort in someone else’s warmth. So, why is it that Rachel is the only one who can soothe everything that screams within him? Why is it that the cold that follows him like some kind of demonic presence becomes nothing more than a dull whisper when his hand finds hers?

Rachel awakens mere seconds later, her face blurry with bewilderment, her eyes wandering towards the hand Zack holds. She always does the same thing, always asks the same thing in a voice that has innocence sewn into its corners.

“Zack, are you okay?”

And because she always asks the same question, he always gives her the same answer. Not a verbal one, but an answer in the form of yanking his hand away and rolling onto his side so he doesn’t have to confront those eyes. Even in the dark, that weird look she’s giving him sinks under his skin and swims in his veins.

No one’s ever looked at him with a face like that— with eyelids so droopy and attention so concentrated that he doesn’t know how to react. That look on her face… there’s something else to it, something he can’t place, and it makes him fidgety and agitated because he can’t put a name to it. She looks like she wants to reach out to him, to caress what’s broken, but it all makes him want to sneer at her, to knock her down a peg and say, “You can’t fix me, Ray. No one can.”

It's not that he thinks he's broken, but her eyes are constantly whispering to him, Let me fix you. Let me try to fix you.

He’s come to terms with being a monster on the outside, but his chaotic heart is his alone and he plans to keep it that way.

He lingers, unmoving, for several minutes until Rachel’s breaths steady and her gaze on his back becomes nonexistent.

He wills himself to sleep after that, and the nightmares become no more.

When Zack wakes, the sun is pale and pure and new. It calms his nerves, causing everything from the night before to evaporate into a blur of painless warmth and distant birdsong. With a hint of grogginess, he makes sense of his surroundings: chestnut brown drawer, bluish-green dish, doughy, red armchair... He's just woken up in that cheap, dingy hotel room.

Droplets of sunlight trickle in through the flimsy silver curtains, warming him like some sort of lullaby. When he sits up, the first thing he notices is how displaced Rachel is. The last time he shut his eyes, they were sleeping back to back in the oversized hotel bed. Now, she’s facing him, bundled in upon herself like a crescent moon, her head only inches away from his stomach.

The previous night begins to wash over him, causing him to remember what occurred before he was plunged into the nightmare realm. Rachel had re-sewn the torn stitches.

He dips a hand up under his hoodie and ghosts his fingers over the red thread, a tad surprised by his own gentleness in handling himself. Once again, her work is impeccable. Well, it seems that way to him anyway, and as long as the stitches do their job at keeping him from coming undone, he considers it impeccable.

Rachel is fast asleep and has probably been that way all night except for when his panic woke her. He doesn’t know why, but her sleeping form fascinates him. When he first met her, the real her, her dishonest eyes were both radiant and bleak. But there’s no bleakness to be found in her when she’s asleep. In fact, she looks like just a normal girl.

As much as the cheap analogy makes him cringe, the sight of her is welcoming, just like the sun. It’s all like medicine to assuage the pain.

The light washes over her just as much as it does him, highlighting her in mute shades of white and yellow. He watches her, studies her, before deciding to let her sleep. It isn’t as if they have anywhere to go.

There’s no clock around, so he has no idea how early it is, but the groan that his body gives as he rises from the bed tells him it’s much earlier than when he usually wakes up. He rolls his shoulders in an attempt to unfurl any remaining tension his body has captured.

He wanders over to the drawer that sits on his side of the bed. There’s a lamp, a blank notepad and pen, and a collection of glossy brochures advertising the hotel’s amenities. Because they have pictures, he flips through them with mild interest. They actually make it look like a nice place, which means the shots must’ve been taken years before the place went to hell.

When he finishes with one brochure, he lifts up another. There’s an empty glass and a plate pictured on the front, and as Zack skims through it, he figures it to be some sort of menu. Room service, as they call it.

He discards the second brochure with an exhale. Regardless of his intrigue, it’s not like he can understand the instructions for how to call room service in the first place. He wouldn’t even know what to order, either. With nothing more of interest in the shabby room, he dips into one of the stolen wallets and pockets a credit card before retreating out into the hallway.

The hallway is empty, and with the emptiness comes a deafeningly irritating quiet. He decides not to linger for long and shambles towards the elevator, hands in his pockets. It takes him a moment to remember that the lowest level is represented by a button with the word ‘Lobby’ (“however the hell you read that”) on it. After a short descent, the doors reopen and he steps out into an area that looks remarkably unlike the trashy hotel rooms several floors up. This area is incredibly clean with polished marble floors, a stone fountain, and a faint, relaxing twirl of jazz music. Probably a trap to lure people into thinking it’s actually a decent place to stay…

There are shops in the opposite direction of the receptionist desk, so Zack decides to go towards them. The first is a gift shop that he initially doesn’t plan on visiting until he notices that they sell clothes. The only outfit he has is his hoodie and pants— complete with bullet holes and a bloodstain right in the middle. It was never any problem when he lived alone on B6. There was no one around to judge him— or rather, there was no one who lasted long enough to judge him. He didn’t mind his outfit, he liked how comfortable and easy it was to move in, but bloodstains attract attention. Unwanted attention. And as much as he wants to stay out of sight, he knows there are going to be times (like now) where he has to be out in public, among people.

As accustomed as he’s become to the grunginess of his outfit, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to put it through the wash at least once. The smell of blood, gunpowder, and whatever weird antihemorrhagic solution Rachel used on him have seeped into the fabric.

He walks inside, relieved that it appears to be empty. There are spinning display stands for postcards, shelves of snow globes and baseball caps, and an arrangement of multicolored books and magazines. He pauses every-so-often to study something that catches his eye, sometimes turning it around in his hand or making a small hum of intrigue before moving on to the next thing.

At last he arrives at the rows of clothing. Oddly enough, even in the summer, there are hangers with hoodies right next to the ones with T-shirts. He shuffles through the hangers, bypassing any of the ones with wording on them before finding one that’s dark blue and around his size. He rolls the cuff around in his hand, satisfied when he imagines how warm and sturdy the fabric will be. He decides to buy it.

Just as he’s about to leave, the sight of a smaller, matching sweater catches his eye. He thinks of Ray, probably still upstairs in her cradle of dreams. All she has is that sundress they found in the backseat of the stolen car and the T-shirt and shorts she’s using as pajamas. Has she ever gone to bed cold? He usually tries to keep the car warm during the night, but sometimes it takes up too much gas or the humming engine attracts too much attention.

He pulls the second hoodie from its hanger and eyeballs the size before trying again with a different one. After settling on one that he thinks will fit her, he decides he’s tired of the gift shop and would rather be somewhere else. As he leaves the clothing section behind, it isn’t without bitterness that he notices he’s no longer alone. A woman with her brown hair tucked into a bun stands behind the register, flittering back and forth like a hummingbird.

Zack’s never had any money, so he’s used to stealing when he knows he can get away with it. However, the security cameras peeking out from numerous corners are enough of a deterrent. He can’t risk being kicked out and Rachel being left alone upstairs.

He drops both articles of clothing at the register, shooting the woman a dirty look when he realizes she’s gawking at his bandages. Their eyes meet for a split second and that seems to be enough to get the woman to scramble for her barcode reader.

When she squeaks out the price, he all but thrusts the credit card in her face. When she doesn’t reach for it, he turns his glare on her again.

“The card reader, Sir,” she peeps. “You have to chip it.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You have to insert the credit card’s chip into the reader.”

“And I’m telling you that makes no sense.”

With a shaking hand, the woman reaches over, rotates the card and imitates with her own hand what to do next. “You have to insert the card into that slot down there… please.”

He does as he’s told, jamming the card inside and waiting. When the card reader lets out a beep and black letters flood onto the screen, he once again looks to her for instruction.

“What’s it say?”

“You can remove your card now. Do you want cash back?”

“Huh?”

“N-Never mind. You can simply remove your card.”

He does, and the woman bags up both sweaters, rips off the receipt, and all but thrusts the items at him. She spills out a hasty, “have a good day,” before rushing to the safety of a backroom. Zack stares after her, mildly entertaining the thought of slicing her open. The thought causes a smile to peel across his lips, but once again, those security cameras make it impossible to get away with. He takes his purchases and exits the gift shop.

Once he takes his first step back into the lobby, a sugar-sweet scent finds him. It’s a reminder that he hasn’t had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon. He follows the scent to what appears to be a café that sits in the middle of the lobby. There’s a sign hanging from the ceiling, but he can’t read it, so he doesn’t bother gazing at it for very long. He figures it’s just the café’s name.

Beyond several identical tables is the register and pastry display. Behind the register is what appears to be a menu written in flowery white lettering. There are doodles of coffee cups and pastries there, too. If only that much effort was put into the actual hotel rooms…

Zack considers what Rachel might want to eat. She usually isn’t too picky. He knows that she likes cornflakes and he honestly doesn’t mind cereal, either, but it doesn’t look like they have any. He peers at the buttery croissants and powdered cakes glittering inside the glass display. Guess they’ll just have to have dessert for breakfast, then.

“Do you need any help?”

The voice belongs to an elderly employee, and when Zack lifts his gaze, he’s immediately reminded of the old man from his childhood. This man’s eyes also have a smile hidden behind them. Oddly enough, Zack isn’t bothered by it. It’s kind of similar to the way that old priest from the building smiled at him, only this old man doesn’t seem to have some kind of hidden agenda.

Zack decides that he doesn’t dislike him.

He glances back at the pastries before pointing a finger at one that has some kind of glistening fruit peeking out of its crumbly folds.

“Hey, old man, what’s that?”

“It’s an apple dumpling.”

“And that one?”

“Raspberry cheesecake.”

Zack hums in thought, tapping his fist against his hip. The old man stands behind the display case, smiling in that dark green apron that looks more than a little unfitting on him. It would seem more natural for him to be fishing on the edge of a lake or playing chess in the park or doing something else old men do.

After a while he begins making suggestions, discussing the texture of certain desserts and how they’re made before finally asking, “Do you like chocolate?”

“Yeah.”

“Our muffins are baked with chocolate chips,” he says, motioning towards them. “They’re freshly baked, came out of the oven not even ten minutes ago. They’re one of my favorites.”

“Gimme two.”

The man nods, but bags up three instead, saying, “And an extra one, for whenever you get back on the road.” He bundles the muffins with two cartons of milk taken from an icebox in front of display case.

As Zack leaves the café behind, he catches the old man waving him goodbye, and he can’t help but feel like he’s seen the old man from his childhood smiling at him one last time.

Zack returns to the hotel room in silence. The bag of sweaters is dropped to the floor, the muffins are placed on the nightstand.

Just being in this room reminds him of his nightmares once again. The blanket is still tousled from where he kicked it off and the edges of his pillows are still bunched up from where he gripped them. His chest begins tightening until…

He finds Rachel still asleep in the exact position in which he left her. Nature has painted her in different colors than before; she’s paler now, more ethereal as the sun cradles her. Her face is shining, lips blooming pink, messy hair somehow finding structure in jumbled, silken swirls.

She looks so much younger, so much more innocent than the girl who knew how to aim a pistol with manic eyes and steady fingers. She’s almost like — and Zack laughs scornfully at this— an angel.

Something strange and foreign steams in the pit of his stomach when he gazes down at her. Just the sight of her extinguishes the darkness, chases it away and makes it no more. This girl, this angel, this question mark that takes up a prominent page on the story of his life, makes him feel something he isn’t sure he’s ever felt in his life.

And he doesn’t quite hate that feeling… even if he doesn’t have a name for it.

He glides his hand down her cheek with featherlike gentleness. The feeling in his stomach responds by flaring up and then icing over. Somehow the sensation feels like he's taking a nap in the sun.

Even when I'm wide awake, I'm still reaching for you.

His features soothe into a smile as he moves his hand to her shoulder and gives it a rough, little shake.

“Hey, Ray. Time to wake up.”

#Satsuriku no Tenshi #my fanfics #Angels of Slaughter #Between Silence and Sound.

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marypsue · 5 years

Text

Imbalance, 10 / ?

Well, tumblr disappeared my original post, so let’s try this one again.

Previous chapters can be found on AO3 under MaryPSue!

…

Liliana can't breathe.

She feels pretty stupid about it, actually. She knew there was probably some kind of evil wossname from beyond their plane of existence on the loose, using the circle she herself had broken to get in and eat the universe. She smelled smoke as soon as she set foot in Storm's apartment - hell, she'd taken the batteries out of his smoke detector when it had started going off - but saw no sign of candles or incense or anything that might be causing it. And now she's choking to death on evil smoke from somewhere beyond her plane of existence. Who could possibly have seen this coming.

Well, serves her right. She just hopes the others don't find out how she got killed, she'll die of embarrassment.

"It's all right," Storm says, somewhere in the whispering haze, his voice friendly and comforting, smooth and even and easy to listen to. For the first time, Liliana understands why other people waste their time watching Storm play video games. "You never really had a chance. None of us did."

"Don't...patronise me...you little asshole," Liliana coughs out. She knows as soon as she does that she's made her fatal mistake. Should have saved her breath instead of trying to be a smartass one last time. Her lungs burn, her throat is on fire, her vision blurry either from the tears stinging her eyes or the clouds of billowing, soft grey smoke tracing hypnotic swirls through the air. Her knees, then her shoulder, smart as she hits the ground, but even that's muted, muffled somehow by the smoke.

"It's useless trying," Storm says, sympathetically. "I understand now. No matter how hard you fight, no matter how many battles you win, there's always something bigger and worse waiting in the wings. You can fight and fight your whole life, and any ground you might gain will just be taken back after your death. It means nothing." His smile is bitter and aching. "All you're doing is wearing yourself out, trying to fight the inevitable. You can rest. It'll all be over soon."

Liliana sucks in one final breath, preparing to curse Storm out, but all she gets is a lungful of bitter smoke. Distantly, she thinks she hears Storm say something about endings or silence or some edgelord crap, but it's impossible to make out over the rising whispers. The edges of her vision are darkening, tunneling away into pinpricks of grey as the smoke steals her oxygen. Her last, fleeting thought is to hope somebody will figure out something happened to her and check up on Mavis and Mookie before they both get so hungry they try to eat each other.

And then there is light.

...

The Plane of Thought is home to all kinds of fantastic inventions. Its inhabitants have shaped metal and lightning around ideas that, on other planes, would have been accomplished with advanced spellwork.

And they've managed to come up with things that the other planes would never dream of. Stones of Farspeech are a complicated enchantment capable of incredible communication across continents. But no one, yet, has thought to connect them all together so that the same messages can reach everyone, all over the world, at nearly the speed of light. And no one, yet, has engineered a twenty-four-hour news cycle to make sure those messages get hammered, repeatedly, into every mind around the world. Over, and over, and over again.

"...new report indicates that, without dramatic policy and industry changes, global temperatures will rise enough to render the Earth uninhabitable within the next thirty years..."

"...despite widespread protest, the unpopular piece of legislation was passed on Friday. Legal challenges are expected..."

"... natural disasters compounded by extreme weather..."

"...allegations of sexual misconduct dating back to the early nineteen-seventies..."

"...will walk free..."

"...unable to afford the necessities of life..."

"...human rights violations..."

"...hate crime rising..."

"...unexpected cancellation of hit series Ray Donovan..."

"...corruption..."

"...collapse..."

"...devastation..."

"...despair..."

...

"Yes," the man at the door deadpans. "This is a bad time."

"Oh," Rowan says. "Sucks to suck, huh?"

"Yeah," the man at the door says, and shuts it in Rowan's face.

Rowan stares at the door. The door does not stare back at Rowan, because it's an inanimate object. That should mean it can't laugh at him, either, and yet, somehow, that's exactly what it seems to be doing.

From somewhere behind the impossibly smug door, Rowan can hear another voice - familiar, but in the way the voice of a teacher you had in elementary school is familiar - complain, "What'd you do that for?"

"He can come back with a warrant," the guy who opened the door snaps, and then the conversation veers into Spanish that's a little more advanced than what Rowan vaguely remembers from eighth grade.

Rowan stands on the doorstep for another moment or two, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck. The door does not reopen.

"Okay," Rowan mutters to himself, turning away from the door. He does not add, "Now what?". He's uncomfortably aware that no one else is going to answer that question for him. "Well, shit."

He starts down the walk, vaguely considering whether Liliana will be upset if he shows up early to pick her up. He doesn't like to admit it, but something about that Storm guy she hangs around with makes him indefinably but distinctly uncomfortable. Nothing personal, just...Rowan gets the strong impression that the guy's watched The Craft one time more than is strictly healthy.

Maybe Indigo's home. Maybe all that reading she - or he, or maybe they, Rowan hasn't checked in yet today - did on the D&D planar system will give him some clue. Rowan's still not sure if Gary Gygax was just plugged in to some fundamental truth of the universe, or if something about the Story and Song somehow made D&D-like shit real, but the end result is the same. Rowan's extensive knowledge of the Wiccan and neopagan traditions is less useful, practically, than some nerd with a 5e Monster Manual.

He has to admit, it does sting a little.

He's halfway down the walk when the door behind him swings open and a voice - familiar, but in the way that a celebrity's voice is familiar - calls, "Hey, do you really know anything about magic?"

Rowan turns. Joaquin Terrero waves one red-sparking hand at him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, looking at his own hand. “I can’t, uh, make it stop.”

"Well, shit," Rowan says.

...

"Hey, Griffin. Question."

"Shoot."

"Are we...are we going to get to...fight something, at some point?"

...

The alarm on Marial's implant cuts out abruptly as she and Dead Guy Gary reach the third floor.

Gary gives her a hopeful look, but Marial shakes her head. "It'll keep going off. Every four hours." She's exhausted, and her left arm is starting to ache, her fingers numb and tingly. She keeps jumping at little noises, thinking it's either Barry or one of Gary's zombies, and she's shaking so badly that it takes her three tries to turn the handle on the door out of the stairwell. This is really too much excitement for one lifetime.

...

"Yes, you are. In fact, you're going to get to fight something very, very soon."

...

Lup gives her scythe a sweeping stroke through the air. There's a noise like paper tearing, and a burst of stinging grey smoke billows out of the hole she's cut into the Astral Plane. It disperses quickly, but leaves a bitter smell lingering in its wake.

"Well, that's probably not a great sign," Lup mutters, under her breath, and then ducks through the opening in the air.

Taako turns to Magnus, but Magnus isn't there. Taako just sees the soles of his boots following Lup through the hole in the air. His voice drifts back through the planes. "Taako! Are you coming?"

"Let me just - let me ask you something. What part of 'Taako's good out here' keeps giving you all so much trouble?"

Magnus doesn't answer, just leans back through the hole in the air, grabs Taako by the collar, and yanks him through.

The hole in the air closes seamlessly behind them.

...

"Okay, but Griffin, how soon is 'very, very soon'?"

...

"What is all this commotion?" someone asks, pleasantly, as Marial slips out of the stairwell. "I thought we dealt with the fire alarm. I've lost two appointments already."

Marial mutters a curse under her breath. She’d really hoped the alarms would have cleared everybody out, but the professionally-(if garishly-)dressed woman with her dark hair in a sleek coil at the back of her neck leaning against the reception desk is standing between her and the cardiac clinic. And doesn't look like she's about to evacuate anytime soon.

On the other hand, Marial's a patient here, and she has a legitimate medical concern. And whoever this is doesn't seem like she wants to stop doing her job and leave until she can personally see flames licking out of the walls around her. Maybe Marial can use this to her advantage.

She takes a step forward, already working up a sheepish smile and a story about a mispulled fire alarm, and the woman standing by the reception desk turns to meet her eyes.

Marial stops in her tracks.

There's nothing immediately and obviously wrong with this picture, which makes it worse. Marial finds herself searching the woman's expression of detached, professional curiosity as it fades into concern, her carefully-applied makeup and enormous eighties Jem and the Holograms earrings, the hall around the reception desk, the friendly but confused smile from the guy behind it, for something to explain the sudden wave of sickening dread that crashes over her. Marial ends up studying the helpful sign listing directions to the different departments so that she doesn't have to meet the woman's kind grey eyes. She's never noticed before that psych and cardiac are on the same floor.

"Can I help you?" the woman asks, and the hall seems to bounce it back to Marial strangely, giving it a mocking, sarcastic tone.

"I - I don't think you can, actually," Marial stammers. She can feel the way Dead Guy Gary's gone tense beside her, prickling like a wall of static shock. She wants to ask him if he can tell what's got his back up, but something tells her that talking to thin air in front of this woman would be a bad idea. "I need the cardiac device clinic."

The woman smiles, broadly, stepping away from the reception desk and towards Marial. Marial takes another step backwards.

"I think what you need is a little dose of perspective," the woman says, still smiling, still friendly. That strange mocking echo in her voice seems to be growing stronger, picking up harmonics from somewhere. Marial takes a third step backwards and finds herself backed up against the stairwell door.

...

"Well, uh, right about - right about now, actually."

...

The Astral Plane is spooky.

Well, okay, so a place where dead people go to their eternal rest is always gonna be spooky, but the Astral Plane is spookier than necessary. The last time Magnus saw this place, it was through an enormous gemstone mirror, but it had seemed...peaceful. With the whispering ocean of souls, even a little bit...tropical? Of course, your umbrella and swim trunks would have to be black, but - yeah, he could imagine taking a beach vacation there. A very, very creepy beach vacation.

But this time, as he follows Lup across the dark, formless ground and waits as she chooses where to slice open another portal, Magnus can't imagine the pina colada that would make this palatable. It's just so quiet. The shifting sea seems to be still for once, and he doesn't think it's his imagination that the ethereal blue light it casts is getting dimmer and dimmer. If Magnus squints, he thinks he can make out a faint grey haze casting a pall over it and soaking up its light. He's willing to bet actual human currency that, up close, it smells strongly of smoke.

"Hey, uh, Lulu?" Taako asks, and though his voice is deliberately nonchalant, Magnus can hear the tightness in it. "You done something new with the place? Really working the, the old, 'abandon hope all ye who enter here' vibe."

There's a little frown creasing the space between Lup's eyebrows as she glances distractedly back at them.

"Look, I've been a reaper for less time than you've been dating one," she says. "But no. I don't think any of this is right."

Magnus rests a hand on the head of his axe as he looks around, just in case.

There's another burst of smoke that leaves them all coughing when Lup opens the portal to the Plane of Thought. It still dissipates quickly, but the smell seems to linger longer this time.

They're in a wide, airy, square hall, its walls painted a pale yellow, a huge plate-glass window overtop of a desk just beside them. There are printed signs labeling everything and offering directions down the hall, and all put together, it reminds Magnus of the Halls of Healing back in Neverwinter.

"This better not take too long," Taako complains. "I have an, uh, a guest appearance on, uh, uh, uh, Beat Bobby Mindflayer booked for tonight -"

"It's gonna have to wait," Lup says, warningly.

Magnus follows her line of sight.

The three people standing by the heavy metal door don't seem to have noticed them yet. As Magnus watches, though, the figure to the left - the skeletal figure, flickering in and out of visibility and crackling with red lightning - slowly, slowly turns, and stares directly at him. He's unmistakably a lich, but instead of the red robes Magnus is used to, or even the traditional necromancer's black, he seems to be wearing an extremely ugly neon tracksuit.

The woman standing beside him, in the day-glo suit and enormous earrings, also turns in their direction, and Magnus stumbles backwards. She's got to be the female lich Lup had mentioned, the one who still had her body. There's just something about her eyes -

The girl standing between the two neon horrors half-turns, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes wide and frightened. That's all Magnus needs to see. He pulls his axe free, and, ignoring Lup's shout of "Magnus, wait -", rushes in.

The frightened girl, the one Magnus had pegged as a helpless captive, throws up both hands. And then she throws a fireball the size of a basketball down the hallway at Magnus' head.

...

"I'm gonna need you boys to roll initiative."

#the adventure zone #balance arc #this is mary's fic tag #:jazz hands: chaptur

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icarushasfallenfromthestars · 3 years

Text

Found (Outside The Screen) (Dream x GN! Reader) Part 2

Request: That dream angst fuckin wrecked my heart..any chance for a part 2 with comfort(im not the og requester so if not thats fine its just OUGH my heart)

Part 1

Once again. This is a completely fictitious story and version of Clay.

TW: Panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts,

"(Y/n)!"

His voice echoed through the house as you scrambled around corners to escape the possible wrath of your boyfriend. Or maybe even soon to be ex boyfriend.

He's gonna find you...

The house wasn't even that big, and quite an open concept, so you had no idea why you were finding it so confusing. All you knew at the moment was...

Get out.

Once your eyes landed on the door that lead out, you made a beeline towards it and flung it open. Maybe you should've known better than to attempt to run from the manhunt god...

The footsteps pounding against the floor not too far behind you startled you enough to jump outside and slam the door behind you in hopes of giving yourself enough time to run farther.

Where... were you?

Doesn't matter. Don't go back.

Oh God... He hates you..

Why wouldn't he..?

He was too embarrassed to show you to his chat!

What did you do that was so embarrassing?

God.. What was so wrong with you that he stayed in his streaming room for days on end!?

You had no clue where you were. Nothing looked familiar. What time is it? No clue, you don't have your... Your phone!

78 Missed calls from Clay💚

2 Missed calls from George👓🇬🇧

7 Missed calls from Sapnap🔥

Was... He so mad that his friends were trying to yell at you too? You tilted your head slightly and scrolled through the other notifications on your lockscreen.

You glanced down at the screen and say Clay was making call number 79... Man, he was persistent.. and he would probably continue to call until you answered...

Your finger hovered over the decline button, before slowly moving over and landing on the green one instead. "...Hello...?"

"(Y/n)...?" Had... He been crying...? "Oh my god! You're alive!" He gasped out with glee before giving a few sobs of... relief...?

"...You... Aren't... Mad?" You whispered very softly and hesitantly, your voice scratchy and sore from crying.

Your battery was almost dead...

"C-Clay.. My phone is going to die.." You murmured softly, your heart filling with dread as you turned down your brightness and closed any unnecessary apps.

"..(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I lov-"

Your phone died..

Pulling the device away from your head, you pressed the buttons a few times before groaning and shoving it into your pockets as you began to walk.

You rose your arm to shield your face from the onslaught of water that a car had caused by driving through a large puddle before running your hand down your face.

Biting your lip, you shook off the thought as you looked up again to see the steakhouse that you were directed to go to, the signs glowingly and people shuffling in and out through the doors...

Then there was another man, standing under a large black umbrella wearing a damp lime green hoodie...

Only you'd recognize that face anywhere where others wouldn't.. Standing in the street lights perfectly was your boyfriend, Clay.

Your heart trembled but also melted slightly upon seeing that he wasn't paying attention to his screen anymore. You. He was focused on finding you...

You buried your face into the male's sweater, that was beginning to become soaked as well from the rain and you, and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

"(Y/n)?"

"Mm..?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Clay."

#dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dream mcyt #x reader #reader insert #read #self insert #dream smp #dream team

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arteacactus · 7 years

Text

A Human’s Wings

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of attacks (Anxiety/panic) Pairing: None Notes: I didn’t at all stick to the original idea and the title is trash haha im sorry Taglist: @analogicallyroyal

Virgil was different.

Physically.

Everyone knew the Sides each had their own differences from their hosts. Stuff that made them unique. It was mainly their appearance, but sometimes it was their voices too, or it was as small as clothing choices, fears, likes and dislikes, etc.

Logan and Patton both had glasses.

They had bad vision; Patton's being the worst of the two.

It was hard for Patton to see clearly without his glasses. He could hardly see his own two hands in front of his face without them.

Logan needed glasses, too, but he could still see fine without. Everything was blurry without, yes, but he could still function (he just wouldn't be able to read anything).

Roman's voice had an accent.

It was barely noticeable at times, and extremely heavy at others. Usually his accent got thicker the more passionate he got while talking.

Virgil.. had wings.

Virgil never knew why he did.

The others' quirks seemed to fit their traits.

Glasses fit Logic because they made him look smarter, nerdier, more logical. They made sense aesthetic-wise.

Glasses fit Patton because they made him look like a cute, geeky dad. It fit his role as the Heart, because it made him look more adorable and sensitive.

The accent fit Roman because it made him sound more charming, like a Prince should sound. He was able to woo others easily because of the difference in his voice that set him apart from the others.

What did the wings mean?

Virgil didn't know.

He really wasn't sure what wings would express, didn't know how it related to 'Anxiety' at all.

Maybe to fly away from his problems? He really didn't understand.

So, he kept them hidden.

He never let anyone see his wings. He always kept them tucked inside his jacket, and kept his back to the wall so they couldn't be noticed.

If he moved away from the wall, the lumps in his clothes would be noticeable, and he'd be called out on it. And he didn't want that at all.

But they were hard to keep secret.

His wings were big.

They were easily eight feet in length being stretched out fully, from shoulder to wing tips.

They were an inky black color, with a tinge of violet in the sunlight. On the insides, they sparkled like the night sky, silver speckling his feathers and making stars in the blackness.

Virgil loved his wings.

He loved how they looked, how they felt, and whenever he could, he loved the feeling of being in the sky and just letting the wind brush through his feathers, the cool air soothing him and his anxiety. His wings were the only thing that he could look at and honestly say 'I love this about myself'.

He wasn't scared of the possibility that the others would dislike his wings.

He really didn't care if they disliked his wings, because he loved them.

He was just worried that they would want them removed, and stop to no ends to removing them when Virgil refused.

He was anxious that Logic would call him illogical and hold Virgil down while Roman sliced them off with his sword.

He was anxious that Patton would refuse to tell him he loved him because he was unnatural.

He was anxious that Roman would hate him even more than he already did.

Because of his wings.

He wasn't scared of their opinions of his wings, he was scared of their opinions of him. He felt like they'd treat him as an abomination.

So Virgil did what he decided was best, and kept them hidden.

And it worked, for the most part. He kept them hidden and they weren't ever exposed at all.

Then, he saw, around tumblr.. people making art of him with wings. Saw their comments of how cool it would be if he had them. Saw how they all seemed to enjoy the idea of them in general.

And he refused to come out of his room that day, because the urge to show his wings was strong and he wasn't sure if he could hold back.

And the way they found out about his wings was.. less than ideal.

He would have liked to tell them in his own time, he really would have. To wait until he was comfortable.

But it can never be that easy, can it?

Virgil sat in his bed, guitar in hand, his jacket off and his wings stretched out beside him, the soft feathers brushing across his walls, the soothing feeling of them touching something other than his jacket calming him.

Virgil began to absently strum his guitar, biting his lip as a rhythm began.

"I wanna pick you up and scoop you out I want the secrets your secrets haven't found,"

He began to sing, his voice light and airy, eyes fluttering shut, blissfully unaware of the fact his door wasn't shut as he had thought.

"Paint me in trust, I'll be your best friend Call me the one, this night just can't end."

His fingers brushed across the strings of the guitar gently, the sound soft but loud enough to be heard and blend with his voice just enough so that it sounded good.

"Will you share your soul with me? Unzip your skin and let me have a see."

Virgil was entirely unaware of his door creaking open, a certain Royal Side standing just outside to listen in on Virgil's singing.

"Paint me in trust, I'll be your best friend Call me the one, this night just can't end."

Virgil's wings closed up slightly, folding up behind his back, before extending once more, curving at the ends and touching the ceiling gently, a pair of eyes following the movement in awe.

"Oh, I'm so human; we're just human."

Another pair of eyes joined the one at the door, the Logical trait settling down next to the Creative Side, the two of them listening to Virgil sing and watching as his wings seemed to sing a silent song of their own, the freckles of silver in the feathers glittering as the fairy lights against the back wall hit them, tints of purple shading the tips of his feathers.

"Lean for me, and I'll fall back You'll fit so nicely, you'll keep me intact."

If Virgil knew they were there, he'd have immediately stopped all functions and gone into a panic attack, so the two made a silent truce, not bickering for once to let Virgil sing in peace. Neither of them really wanted to speak, anyways, and disrupt the quiet calmness.

"Paint me in trust, I'll be your best friend Call me the one, this night just can't end."

Soon, a third pair of eyes joined Logan and Roman.

The cardigan-clad Side settled down next to the other two, arms around both of them as he sat and joined them in listening to Virgil sing, watching his wings with wide, sparkling eyes.

Virgil's wings flexed, the feathers shaking, a couple falling off, and Patton had to resist the urge to run in and grab them before they hit the ground.

"I want to give you your grin So tell me you can't bear a room that I'm not in."

Virgil's eyes opened, and for a split second, the three thought they'd been caught, but Virgil seemed too enraptured in his playing to realize the door was cracked open and there were three people sitting there, listening, and one of them recording him.

"Paint me in trust, I'll be your best friend Call me the one, this night just can't end."

Virgil bit his lip again, then a grin came across his face, nearing the finish of the song, his wings settling down and finally resting in a folded position against his back, much to the Sides' displeasure, as they wanted to see Virgil's gorgeous wings some more.

"Oh, I'm so human; we're just human."

As Virgil finished, setting his guitar aside, he let out a yawn, and the Sides left.

Roman sent his recording to the other two, and the three of them fell asleep with earbuds in, replaying the music, sleeping to the sound of Virgil's soothing voice in their ears.

The next morning, Thomas was astounded to find all of his traits with peaceful smiles resting on their faces (including Virgil), all of them calm and seeming to be in a trance as they moved. Even Virgil and Roman didn't argue.

"Guys, what happened last night?" Thomas suddenly asked, too curious to stop himself from asking. "You're all just so.. calm. Peaceful. It's weird. It's a good kind of weird, don't get me wrong, this is amazing, but still."

Patton, Roman, and Logan exchanged glances, and Virgil just looked down, reminding himself that he couldn't let them know. He couldn't. He couldn't..

"Well, I played guitar last night, and that calmed me down enough to actually get sleep," Virgil spoke, despite the cold claws of fear gripping his lungs and causing his breath to come in short gasps, though it was barely noticeable, thankfully.

The other's heads snapped around to stare at him in shock, though for different reasons.

While Thomas was shocked at hearing Virgil could play guitar, the other three were just astounded that Virgil actually shared that willingly.

"You can play guitar?" Thomas finally asked after he got over his small shocked state.

"Yeah." Virgil shrugged, "I also sing a little bit but I'm not good at it."

"Bullshit!" Roman suddenly exclaimed, and Patton couldn't even scold him, because he agreed. "You can sing beautifully! Hell, probably better than Thomas himself!"

Virgil just stared in shock, blinking at him.

"..What?" He asked nervously, "You've never.. heard me sing.."

"Yes we have!" Patton stated, "Last night, when you sang a song by Dodie! We all listened and watched you sing!"

Virgil couldn't help it; he began to shake.

"So.. you.. saw.."

"Yes, we did." Logan stated, "They're very beautiful, Virgil. I'm shocked you kept them hidden for so long. They're truly stunning."

"They looked like they had stars in them!" Patton exclaimed, "They sparkled like glitter!"

"And they looked a little bit purple when the light hit them!" Roman smiled, "They matched your color scheme!"

Virgil really didn't know what to do.

He was somewhere between having an attack because he was found out, but at the same time, the praises and compliments were making him want to smile and cry in joy.

So he cried anyway.

He really couldn't help it, the tears just flowed, and he vaguely felt arms around him, though they weren't belonging to Thomas, Roman, or even Patton.

"L-Lo," Virgil choked out through sobs, leaning into the Logical trait, giving him a small nod.

Logan understood, slowly pulling off Virgil's jacket, the large black wings slowly unfolding, the silver freckled feathers glimmering as the sunlight from the windows hit them, the ends of his feathers shining violet.

Thomas gasped aloud, and Patton nearly burst into tears at seeing the beauty of the other's wings in the daylight.

Roman smiled, walking up to Virgil. "Your wings are gorgeous, Virgil. Please, don't be afraid, don't hide them. They deserve to be shown off."

Virgil felt normal.

Virgil felt loved; accepted.

He felt human.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #fanfiction #fanfic #virgil sanders #anxiety #virgil #anxiety sanders

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