#unedited & sad :(

[threemoonwatchers]

Thinkin about Moonwatcher again

AU where she’s actually terrible at hiding her powers and it’s only through BBC Merlin levels of pure obliviousness that nobody finds out.

She thinks they know. They don’t.

Notable examples of Things That Have Happened Because Moon Is A Terrible Actor include:

- Kinkajou’s mind in music class: “man what’s that song that’s like ‘IF OUR LOOOVE’S INSANITY WHY ARE YOU MY CLARITY’”

Moon: (immediately starts singing Clarity by Zedd because now it’s stuck in HER head too) (realizes) (stops and shuffles awkwardly)

- Moon finally working up the courage to volunteer to read aloud to the class but she suddenly gets The Vision TM and starts reciting the Jade Mountain prophecy, glowy eyes and all, before apologizing awkwardly and continuing right back into the book. She distances herself from everyone as much as she can the rest of the day but nobody notices anything and just assumed she got lost somehow because she DID drop her book when the vision started

- Moon bringing up SPECIFICALLY the moment where Cobra threw Qibli at the wall for stealing her a coconut in conversation about childhoods “yeah my mom was terrible” “yeah didn’t you like steal a coconut for her and she threw you at the wall??? And you were like REALLY young at the time right???” “…I don’t remember telling you that but yEAH she did” (awkward look from Moon)

- Moon slipping up and saying there are “too many thoughts in here” in a crowded room and even as she’s stiffening up and has this SUPER awkward look on her face everyone just assumes she means her brain like anyone else would

-Moon saying “Mood” when the chorus to Noise by Leah Marlene plays and immediately covering her mouth and looking guilty (all jokes aside please check out this song it’s so good)

-Moon winning 20 questions MULTIPLE times in a row. She’s banned from guessing games now. She always asks one or two questions just to be a lil bit normal but it’s like. “I’m thinking of an animal” “is it furry?” “No” “corn snake?” “yEAH ACTUALLY-”

-Moon having designated a lil area that nobody really goes to where she can run off to if she feels a vision coming on and she’s able to run and Peril getting lost and walking in on her a GAZILLION times (bonus points if it’s in Stonemover’s cave purely because that’d be really funny)

And combine that with the canon muttering prophecies in her sleep and knowing immediately what’s wrong with Bandit and it’s just overall a REALLY suspicious picture

So of course she’s VERY confused after the history cave incident when it turns out NOBODY knew.

(Not even Kinkajou, who unironically used the expression “you just read my mind” SO many times around her it COULDN’T have been a coincidence, right???)

[theclockistickingwrite]

Orym of the Air Ashari honors his name and lets the wind nick at his heels, gusts guide his exhales, a breeze caress and cool the blade of his sword. Seedling sings through the air when he moves. The blood on its edge is bright and terrible. Orym’s throat is raw from want of screaming.

(Orym takes out the party)

[duskandcobalt]

wip wednesday 💕

hiiii friends! by some miracle, I've actually remembered wip wednesday this week lol please see below for a sneak peek of the final installment of stargirl ✨🌸

❣️ 💌 ❣️ Coming to an AO3 near you this Valentines Day ❣️ 💌 ❣️

It was funny really, looking back at how far they’d come since that very first time Azriel had flown her here, to this place they could now call home.

She’d been a shell of herself back then, clutching to her human life with a desperation that had almost broken her completely. Despite it all, she’d felt a split second moment of reprieve from the intensity of her grief when Azriel had carried her over the threshold and set her down with such care before he led her out to the one place he knew she might find some sense of normalcy. She’d felt it then - after seeing the kindness in his eyes and feeling the gentleness of his touch - the tiniest inkling of hope that maybe one day she could find contentment in this new place, in this new life.

The single strand of hair that had snagged right over his heart should’ve told her all she needed to know that day because just a few years later, being carried over that same threshold in that same pair of arms, Elain was the happiest she'd ever been.

[akpinkprincesss]

I'm catching up on woe begone and it just got me thinking about some of the characters, like really thinking about them and damn it hurts.

i was thinking about lieutenant and it made me realize that he was a victim. what he went through was worse then anyone could ever imagine and he had to adapt to survive. Of course that doesn't excuse his actions but he isn't a horrible person doing things our of malice, he is a victim who did horrible things his abuser (the man who brainwashed him into obeying his every word) told him to.

and its not like ANY of the other mikes have it easier, michaels especially. Like i think the reason they (michaels) all hate lieutenant is because they have all been through horrible pain and suffering. They all have lost edgar and i think most (if not all) of the ones who are alive right now were held in the compound and also tortured, they just werent brainwashed.

In general i think the michales have a hard time empathizing with other characters because they dont want to get close to others in case they die. But any version of mike also have a hard time empathizing with lieutenant because they were also tortured and they didnt react like that. However they forget that trauma victims will do whatever it takes to survive and in this case lieutenant had to become the perfect solider or else he would die, or worse. and the only character who witnessed the torture first hand is either dead, doesnt interact with lieutenant at all or doesnt care which proves my point (i cannot remember what happened to that michael)

and after i had those realizations it sent me on a mini spiral about the W.B "villains" are actually just victims, these are usually iterations of the mikes. Like this nobody guy who just appeared (for me) i dont know what his deal is (and i dont want you to tell me) but the way hes talking it cant be good. The way he could withstand a gunshot for as long as he did doesnt give me good vibes. of course that could be of his own design but i dont know yet and when it comes to mike walters i can hope for the best but expect the worst.

of course not every villain in the story is a victim, like eagle he can taste the carbon of my bat as i slam it full force into his face. but some of them are just victim to circumstance and the horrible events that always follow mike walters.

thanks for reading my long ass rant, ive had feelings that i needed to get out. i might have more to say on the topic later but for now i will leave it. also ignore grammer mistakes im not in the mood to edit right now :/

ive been listening to this podcast on and off for about 2 years now? so there are bound to be mistakes in lore as i forget things and ill go a few months without listening then binge the 10+ episodes so if you have any notes please add them (without spoilers please i am only on episode 154 thanks)

note: do not take this the wrong way i love this show and this is NOT a criticism of the writing :D

[erisenyo]

"why does it feel like this is goodbye?" prompt- characters or ships are writer's choice. make me sad?🥺

For this prompt game! (And also this one!)

(Can be read as a follow up to this bakery first date one)

“—and I know you had certain plains and expectations,” Zuko continues carefully, feeling his fingers tangling more and more along with Sokka’s growing frown, “And I respect that you communicated those, this isn’t about your communication,” Zuko assures him, forcing his fingers flat against the bench and trying to breathe through the anxious tightness in his chest, “It’s me, not—”

“Zuko,” Sokka interrupts, sounding something between confused and upset, which does not help that anxious tightness thing, “Why does it feel like this is goodbye? Are you—” A flash of something small and worried over Sokka’s face. “—are you working up the nerve to break up with me?”

“What?” Zuko startles upright. “No, no. Why would…” he trails off, playing his carefully rehearsed speech back to himself, and…

 “Oh,” Zuko realizes, blinking. “Fuck.”

Sokka hums, nodding. “The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing.” Zuko winces. “And that we ‘needed to talk.’” Zuko winces again. “Asking to meet in a neutral location.”

“I like the park!” Zuko protests. “There’s turtles! And ducks!”  

“Saying you wanted me to listen before responding.”

Okay, sure, Zuko can give him that one too.

“That you’d decided there was something you needed to tell me.”

Alright, well that one is a bit less—

“The fact that you didn’t greet me with any tongue in that ki—"

“Okay, okay, yes, alright,” Zuko breaks in, glowering when Sokka just smirks and not giving him that one. “We all get it, I wasn’t very clear, thank you for enumerating every example.”

“You’re welcome,” Sokka grins, hesitating a moment before adding, almost diffident, “And just to clarify. You’re not breaking up with me?”

“No,” Zuko huffs, exasperated. “I’m not.”

Sokka blinks. “…Why did you just say it like that.”

“Um.” Maybe he can play it off. “Like what?”

“Like you think I’m about to break up with you.”

Maybe not. “Did I say it like that?” Zuko asks, gripping nervously onto the edge of the bench. There was a reason he practiced so much what he was going to say…

“Yeah,” Sokka says slowly, staring at him. “You did.”

Zuko purses his lips. He…can’t really deny that.

“Zuko,” Sokka presses again, “Why’d you say it like that?”

And it’s not that Zuko thinks Sokka would break up with him over it, not really. He knows all the jokes about Sokka’s favorite thing about him being that he can keep Sokka supplied in fresh-baked free pastries for the rest of his life are just that, jokes. Kind of. Mostly. But Zuko still doesn’t know the right way to break the news that, “There are no pastries tonight,” he finally blurts out, wincing. That…was not how he practiced.

And Sokka just staring at him blankly and going “Huh?” was also not what he planned for.

“The Jasmine Dragon is closed for two weeks so everyone can take vacation,” Zuko explains. As mandated by Ty Lee, their on-the-spot-designated HR person. “So there’s nothing in the kitchens.”

Sokka blinks, scratching at his undercut and once again deviating from Zuko’s carefully game planned script. “You’re going on vacation?”

“Not really?” Zuko says, confusion twisting in alongside the nerves in his chest. “I have some stuff to do.”

“Staycation?”

That sounds better than watching all of Ty Lee’s plants, so, “Sure. Why not.”

“Cool,” Sokka nods, “Maybe we can—wait,” he suddenly cuts off, staring. “Wait, were you—were you nervous to tell me this?”

“…Uh.” Kind of?

“Zuko,” Sokka says, mystified, “What.”

Zuko can feel himself flushing, embarrassment squirming through him. “I mean.”

“I just.” Sokka shifts, looking like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or get upset. “Zu, if it’s that important to you I can bake you box brownies naked or something, like really, there are options beyond the Jasmine Dragon.”

…Now it’s Zuko’s turn to stare. “…What?” he finally manages, feeling like Sokka just made about twelve leaps across the conversation that Zuko didn’t even know were happening, let alone managed to keep up with.

“I don’t know,” Sokka huffs, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m just, like, trying to communicate that this relationship is more to me than just suggestively eating pastries for you.”

Wait. ”For me?”

“And like, I know that’s how the past few dates have gone,” Sokka continues, upset definitely starting to win out, “But I don’t—” he stops himself, blows out a hard breath. “I don’t know what I did to make you think I’d only care about your ability to get me pet trios.”

“Petit fours,” Zuko corrects, automatic.

“Yeah, those,” Sokka nods. “I mean, they’re good, don’t get me wrong, like really, they’re amazing, but—”

Which Sokka said at length and volume at the time, so Zuko doesn’t feel bad about interrupting: “Every date.”

“—I don’t see—what?”

“Sokka,” Zuko says slowly, eyes careful on Sokka’s face, “It’s not just the past few dates. It’s been every date.” A fact that Mai was absolutely as merciless about when she found out as Zuk expected her to be, though not anywhere near merciless enough for him to stop.  

“What do you mean every date?” Sokka says, startled. “We didn’t do that after the BBQ.”

Zuko gapes. “Helping to toast buns inside while you man the grill outside because you underestimated the RSVPs and everyone else who could help was invited is not a date.”

“Yes, it is,” Sokka protests. “We did a shared activity!”

“No it’s not, we didn’t spend any time together!”

“A good relationship doesn’t require constant togetherness at all times,” Sokka frowns, sounding like he’s repeating some quote. “And neither does a good date.”

“It requires being together for more than ten nonconsecutive minutes,” Zuko says, incredulous, and Sokka huffs, waving that away.

“Well what about the movie?” he says, switching tact. “We didn’t do pastries then either.”

“You mean the movie,” Zuko says slowly, disbelieving, “That we didn’t plan to be at together? And happened to see each other at while we were out with our other friends?”

Sokka nods like Zuko somehow expressed agreement. “And that furniture thing, don’t forget that.”

“That ‘furniture thing,’” Zuko repeats, amazed. “When my sister hired you off Task Rabbit to build her new bookshelves?” Which was a thin and blatant excuse, even if Zuko theoretically appreciates her care.

“You were there, too,” Sokka points out, like Zuko could possibly forget.

“And we were both surprised by it.” Azula wasn’t, though. “And generally, one is not surprised to find themselves on a date.”

“…Hm,” Sokka says after a moment, pursing his lips. “Let’s circle back to this one later,” he finally suggests, “After we talk about your whole pastry panic food thing.”

“Fine.” If Sokka needs to be shown what a date is then Zuko will show him a date. “But why do you keep saying my food thing?” he frowns. “It’s your food thing, you’re the one eating.”

Sokka opens his mouth, nothing coming out. “Wait,” he finally says. “You don’t have a kink for it?”

“Me?” Zuko blinks, surprised. “You,” he corrects. “It’s your kink.” And Zuko doesn’t mind, its completely harmless as kinks go, and easy enough to indulge, but Zuko wasn’t worried about the sudden lack of free pastries for himself.

“No,” Sokka says slowly, confused, “it’s not.”

“....What?”

“Zuko,” Sokka says, incredulous, “You brought it up as a kink in our first date!”

“So we could practice informed consent!” Zuko protests, ignoring the startled look it gets them from the couple across the pond. “I didn’t care, I just wanted to know.”

“And you said your ex was always doing food stuff!”

“For her job?” Zuko says, gaping. “Her job as a chef?”

“…Huh,” Sokka finally says, looking rather…stunned.

“Wait, wait,” Zuko says, trying to catch up to this entire fucking conversation, fuck, no one can never know about any of this. “So you don’t have a thing for it either?” he asks a little desperately. “You said you were so good at it because you and your ex did shit like that all the time. All the time, Sokka!”

“I mean.” Sokka rubs at his undercut. “I did say that,” he allows, “But he definitely had some kind of oral fixation thing going on.”

“And you don’t?”

“I mean, it’s fun, sure, but I don’t, like, need it.”

They stare at each other a long moment, the quiet sounds of the pond and the city filling the space between them, until finally Sokka says, “…So should we maybe do a few dates that don’t involve food in any capacity whatsoever?”

“Yes,” Zuko says almost before he finishes speaking, “Yeah, yes, let’s—do that. Good idea,” he says, fumbling for his phone, Sokka doing the same as they both start looking up alternate ideas.

[inevitablestars]

snippet game!

ty for the tags @calamitoustide and @starsworth <3

rules: If you get tagged, reblog with roughly 100 words of a WIP. No explanation, just the snippet.

They know what is going to happen before it does. Their eyes close and they are standing at that same cliff they are always at. It’s like an old friend, in a twisted way. Each time they have been here before, they get pushed and then jolted back. It’s never been their choice to go over, and it’s never been their choice to be pulled back. They hate the rush they feel in their chest. 

This time is going to be different. It has to be, that’s the only way to stop the falling for good. 

Sirius stands there on the edge of that cliff just looking out. Unsure what is out there, hoping it’s better. The bottom is too far away to see what’s down there either. Knowing that no one is going to push them off aside from themself, they look over as much as they can. Trying to see, trying to figure out how this will end. They hope it’s soft. Gentle. Welcoming. Things that life never was to them. 

They jump. And they feel… Free. Weightless. That’s how it feels. As a kid you’re taught to be afraid of falling, of getting hurt, of heights. None of those things are scary in the end. No one tells you that the best feeling in the world is in mid air where nothing matters. You’re flying, you’re floating, you’re the most free you have ever been. It’s amazing. It’s not something to be afraid of, it never really was. 

no pressure tagging: @twisted-tales-told @otrtbs @mayescapade @roblogging @itsjaywalkers @aurorboros @galaxostars and anyone else who wants to! :)

[gaywiththesauce]

Oh No...

RenGiyuu, Heavy Angst, >1K words, Unedited

Giyuu barely registered the words when they hit the air.

"Flame Hashira is facing an upper moon! He needs assistance!"

Giyuu suspected that the call from his crow was another attempt to face Kyojuro again. Things were tense after the meeting with that boy, Tanjiro. Kyojuro second-handedly threatened Nezuko and Tanjiro. He suggested they kill the two kids Giyuu was putting his life on the line for.

A day of avoidance on Giyuu's part and Kyojuro seeking him out with tea reconciled their relationship. Giyuu remembered his words exactly.

Kyojuro smiled at him with that day-brightening smile, "I don't understand why you would want to die for a demon, but I won't ask you not to. I respect you, Giyuu. I won't bring harm her way." Giyuu only remembered nodding while he leaned his head on his shoulder.

He shook his head and ran to where his crow guided. Even as unlikely as it was for Kyojuro to fight an Upper Moon, he should get there quickly. He didn't want to keep Kyojuro waiting. The sun was rising on the horizon, peeking just a few rays of light enough to scare any demon into hiding.

He was wrong.

The smell was what caught him first. Strong, icy chills shook his body. The scent made him nauseous. Hundreds- no, thousands of bloods of victims stained the demon's scent with heavy oils. Giyuu made it to the clearing. There. Flame orange hair, a white haori licked at the edges with flames. Giyuu watched the moment Kyojuro fell to his knees.

Tanjiro was screaming, shouting. He's never heard the boy curse, let alone scold so cold-heartedly. He was crying. His sword was missing. The scent was retreating. Giyuu's breath hitched.

He was too late.

He stood at the treeline, unnoticed by the crowd of three slayers. Tanjiro walked over to Kyojuro and collapsed in front of him. The boy in the boar mask, Inosuke, stood still just nearby. Giyuu watched the blond walk over with Nezuko's box.

Giyuu ran over, stumbling over the uprooted grass that flew in chunks from the previous battle. He crouched down next to Kyojuro and checked over his injuries.

Oh...

Oh no...

"Tomioka?" Tanjiro croaked out from behind him. Giyuu didn't spare a glance behind him.

Giyuu looked at his chest. He looked through his chest. He raised a hesitant hand up to apply pressure. How could anyone apply pressure to a hole?

"Ah..." Kyojuro muttered, wide smile vacant as he barely tilted his head in Giyuu's direction. "Giyuu."

Giyuu met his eyes. Those eyes were hazy. Giyuu felt sick. His tongue was numb in his mouth. He grabbed Kyojuro's hand. It was cold.

Kyojuro's blink was longer than comfortable. He tried to cough, but had to settle for spitting up the blood that clogged his throat. "You're here."

Giyuu held his breath, "Yes."

Kyojuro smiled even wider, but it was so weak. Giyuu shook with fear. Kyojuro raised his cold hand to hold Giyuu's cheek, "I'll miss you."

There were so many things that Giyuu wanted to say. Don't give up. You'll be missed by everyone. Please don't die. I love you.

"Me too," Giyuu said the only words that he could. He held Kyojuro's hand against his cheek. He was so cold. His smile was dim. Clouds blocked the sun of his eyes. Kyojuro's eyes closed. Despite the light that beat down from the sky, Giyuu's sun set for the last time.

The finality of Kyojuro's life didn't set in until the infinite night cast a dark shadow over Giyuu. He was on patrol as if nothing happened. He had to act as if nothing happened with. not a single tear shed.

Giyuu would never see the sun again like how he did with Kyojuro smiling at him. The sun would never smile at him. It would never kiss him with the gentleness of rose petals gifted on a romantic holiday.

Eternal darkness was what his enemies suffered with, and now he did too. The sun is never as warm as it was with Kyojuro. The light will never calm him like it did at sunrise. The daylight was just another time of day. He can never appreciate the sun again.

Goodbye Kyojuro.

Goodbye Giyuu.

[azems-familiar]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Emet-Selch/G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch Characters: Emet-Selch (Final Fantasy XIV), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch, Mentioned Named Warrior of Light - Character Additional Tags: Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers (Final Fantasy XIV), Canon Compliant, TECHNICALLY. YOU CAN'T SAY THIS DIDN'T HAPPEN, Angst, Enemies to Still Enemies But Now We're In Love. Oops!, First Kiss, how the FUCK do i tag this man, POV Emet-Selch (Final Fantasy XIV), Bittersweet, No One Is Happy Here And Everything Hurts, Mutual Pining Summary:

He has been a fool for quite some time, he knows, continuing his association with the Exarch despite their firm positions on either side of this conflict. And yet- for a time, he had nearly forgotten the game they play, the rules of it that mean nothing they do is sincere. How long has it been since he has felt any kind of desire to live, outside the duty he bears? How long has it been since any part of him was able to let go of his eternal exhaustion?

The Warriors of Light being summoned had been a much-needed return to reality.

Ah…but if that is true, then why is he here, in Syrcus Tower, during the first night in a century?

[madredhattie]

I really should be asleep but instead I’m picking at various fic WIPs I’ve started up in the last month or so. Dropping a snippet down here because while I’m fond of what it’s about, it doesn’t fit the flow. Be free, little snippet!

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

Such as his duties as a Subway Boss.

Just a few weeks ago, he’d officially rejoined the Battle Subway - as a Depot Agent, wearing the olive green uniform. Though Nimbasa City had celebrated the return of its lost Subway Boss with great fanfare (and what a feeling that was, to know that he had been missed by so many!) his ongoing patchwork memory prevented him from returning to his old station immediately. 

It was for the best, really - though setting foot inside Gear Station had felt like sliding into a much loved and worn coat, the sheer volume of everything had proven overwhelming. On top of that readjustment, there were certifications to undergo, hands-on training to fill in the gaps that remained in his mind, and all manner of other safety checks before Ingo could truly resume conducting battles with skilled trainers.

He wore the black conductor’s cap still. It was the one thing Emmet had pulled rank on, a visual reminder to everyone who saw Ingo that one day, the twin brothers would once again conduct the battle lines side by side. It would just take time.

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

the day the third book in the kingkiller chronicle comes out is the day its over for all other authors ever in the whole world all of them

[silvercowb0y]

outrunning a bird in my car on my way home from the grocery store. texting my mom about the dog as an excuse to talk to her without fighting. i’m always worried about if i’m a bad person (right now, am i a bad person for thinking this is the worst? home is the worst? alone at home is the worst? i’ve only been awake 10 hours today). i’ve been raised up to be a good one, but it’s always a matter of actions versus thoughts. i guess it depends on what you think matters more, which means everyone would have different opinions about if i’m good or bad. my opinion certainly isn’t stable. and maybe ‘bad’ seems to have less and less to do with treatment of other people and more to do with productivity, social skill. i stared right through the cashier at the wall of cigarettes and said about three words. i said please and thank you, but does that make me good?

[danielsgaylilshrug]

Okayokayokay

I can't sleep and I just finished s3 of atlantis so I have thoughts and feelings about Daniel not being there

I KNOW there are good reasons for him to not be there (as a character) ie taking some of mckay's necessity on atlantis but it really does feel like a disservice to Daniel in general. He was so excited to see Atlantis and actually be within a city of the Ancients but he didn't really get a good chance to go and see what he wanted to see. Tbf we're only 5 episodes into s4 and I know he joins for 2 more episodes in s5, but having him there intermittently would've been so fun.

I know also logistically, Michael Shanks was shooting sg1 and was also welcoming a new child into the world but man I wish he had more opportunities to go and actually learn and study and round out his work surrounding the Ancients. He's such an integral part of stargate that it really feels a lil empty without him.

[oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat]

Green is The Shadow Colour of Red

Here's some Creativitwins while I figure out rewriting that Intruality oneshot that decided to f*ck off. Love me some twins content. Hurt/Comfort because I love writing it.

Let me know if y'all want a part two or something.

Pairing: Creativitwins (platonic, only ever platonic) Trigger/Content Warning: intrusive thoughts (mainly of claustrophobia, autophobia, and being silenced), nightmare/night terror (?) (descriptive), getting silenced & claustrophobia & autophobia, Nightmare-Janus is a big ol' b*tch, panic attack (descriptive), vomit

Description: Remus has terrible nightmares. Roman hates how he finds out.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[Read below the cut]

As per usual, the twins had been bickering and provoking each other. All day. The usual brother rivalry they had going on.

And as per usual, Remus' stupid brain made it ten times worse than it really was.

He fell asleep sometime before he usually did- what was it, 9pm? 10:30? Normally, he slept closer to midnight. He'd always liked getting to stare at the poorly scribbled constellations on his ceiling, drawn with different coloured markers. It added colour to Remus' otherwise dreary room. All the dark Sides, former or otherwise, had dim or gloomy-looking rooms. Just came with being dark, it seemed.

Either way, Remus falling asleep so soon should've been the first sign that something was wrong.

But none of the light Sides would notice; they were never there. Roman didn't visit as often anymore, or hardly at all. Virgil left- no way would he ever risk bumping into Janus. Patton was afraid of him; it simply never crossed Logan's mind. Janus had been particularly busy as of recent. And Orange... well, Orange was Orange. Remus wasn't exactly sure what that little arsonist even did. He didn't have any plans to find out.

No, no one would notice.

No one would care. Janus is probably already tired of you by now.

Another sign something was amiss: his own intrusive thoughts seeped into his slumber, his dreams.

His nightmare.

A third sign: him having a goddamn, f*cking nightmare.

Things always started out small. A few icky thoughts. A weird noise. A seemingly normal, Remus-type day. But-

Janus appeared in front of him, gloves unseen and hands bare. One hand was scaly, the same side as his face-scales. Like real Janus. But this wasn't real, right?

But it is, is all Remus can think as Janus walked towards him. This is real. Why does he look so... annoyed?

He's going to throw you out. Leave you. Just like Virgil.

Remus opened his mouth to speak, only for it to clamp shut. A hand frozen and stuck, silencing him. Hindering any attempts at all. Remus looked at Janus in confusion, but then the confusion got shot away when he saw his face. The expression he wore. Remus knew Janus a lot better than he'd ever admit to. He knew his facials and what certain looks meant. And he knew the look of annoyance very well.

But Janus looked worse than that. Fiercer, more closed-off, cold. Much more determined. In such a way it sent a small jolt of fear down Remus' spine. Anger. Pure, vengeful anger.

Red. Red didn't suit Janus. But his eyes gleamed red, and maybe a few glints of orange.

Anger.

Janus backed Remus in a corner, and the darker twin felt another jolt of fear course through him. He was defenseless, silenced and trapped. He hated being trapped. He hated this, Janus knew he hated this.

"Oh, is poor little Remus scared?" Janus taunted.

Real. Afraid. Pain, pain, pain.

You deserve this. You'll always deserve this.

Remus wanted to tell him to back up. He needed space. He hated being cornered, hated being trapped in like a lab rat. He needed to be loud.

Let me speak, let me speak.

"You earned this, Remus. Don't you remember? Or are you truly just too stupid to possess anything worth a braincell?"

The sneer in Janus' voice burned. It hurt his chest. A twist in his gut. He didn't even realize he began heaving. His lungs hurt.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is why no one listens to you. You're so stupid.

"Aw, can't speak, darling? Such a shame."

Yes, just let me speak. I need space. Please, I need space. I'm sorry, just let me speak.

"Hm, very well, then. I suppose you'll have to think about your actions."

Before Remus could even blink, he was suddenly in a box. A cardboard, shrinking box. His hand no longer clasped over his mouth. No, instead he was gagged, and not in a fun way. The box slowly shrunk with him inside. Janus was gone, or at least he thought so. There were no footsteps or taunting voices. No sneers. No haunting anger. No more red where red didn't belong.

Oh, but that was much, much worse.

He was alone. All alone, and no one was there to save him.

The box still shrunk towards him, the space getting smaller. He pounded on the walls of the box to no avail. He tried screaming, but it remained quiet and muffled behind the gag. He was trapped and alone, and silenced. He screamed again, and again. And again, again, again. He cried, pathetically sobbed. But no one came. No one ever came for him.

You deserve to be here, alone. Trapped. Silenced. You deserve to be retrained like this.

He cried harder. He screamed. He pounded on the closing-in box walls. He was stuck. Helpless. His lungs burned, and his skin itched. He just wanted out.

Your brother would laugh. He never loved you, did he?

He couldn't breathe. Remus' whole body shook so violently, like he was his own earthquake. He wobbled where he stood, leaning against the walls. He felt so dizzy. He needed to scream louder, to be out, to be with someone. Anyone. No matter how much they hated him, he just needed to be near another Side. Maybe even Thomas. Or Remy. Emile.

He'd settle for literally anyone.

"Remus!" a familiar voice shouted, but it came from nowhere.

He was alone, he was trapped-

He screamed again. Banged on the walls again. He needed out.

"Remus- up!"

Out, out, out, out, out-

"Wake up!"

Remus shot up in his bed, tears streaming down his face. He breathed heavily. Everything was blurry, and he still shook. A weight on the bed. Someone was there. Red. He saw red when he looked at the person.

Red means anger. They're going to hurt you.

He yelped and nearly fell off his mattress. The person immediately went to his side, though he curled up in a ball. He shut his eyes tightly.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Please, don't put me in the box again. I'll do anything. Please.

He didn't realize he was even mumbling. The red- the person spoke softly.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe, brother. You're okay."

Brother... Red. Red brother. Twin. Safe?

"Yes Rem, it's me. It's Roman, you're safe now. I promise I won't hurt you."

Roman. Roman is safe.

...right?

"I promise I'm safe. You're safe and okay, brother. C'mon, open your eyes. See it's me."

Remus slowly obeyed, breath hitching when he saw blurry red again. And gold. And white. A prince-looking sweater. Gold crown pajama pants. Brown hair, messy. Hazel eyes, same face-

It's Roman. Not alone. Not alone.

"That's right, I'm here. I need you to breathe with me, alright? In for four, like we've been taught. Four, seven, eight."

Roman, kneeled next to his panicking brother, helped him through a breathing exercise. He held his hands, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles. He kept him grounded. Squeezed his hands when Remus seemed to drift off again. Remus slowly got his breathing to a much calmer rhythm. He was a bit less shaky. He still felt dizzy, though.

He glanced at Roman, who now thumbed away any remaining tears. One hand on his face, the other still holding Remus'.

"Yeah, there you go. Let's get up back on the bed, okay?"

All Remus could do was nod. Roman let go of him, and he immediately made a panicked noise. He grabbed his brother's hands, not wanting him to leave.

I can't be alone. Please, don't leave me. I don't want to be alone.

Roman picked up on it rather quickly.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm staying, I'm not leaving. I just need to pick you up, okay? Just for a moment."

Remus gave him the most vulnerable, terrified look Roman had ever seen from him. And honestly? It scared him to see his twin like that.

"I promise. I'm not going anywhere, gremlin."

That seemed to ease Remus for now, but he still kept a watchful eye on his brother. Roman hooked an arm under his twin's legs and hoisted him up, holding him tightly so he didn't drop him. Remus' breath hitched when he was suddenly in the air and not on the ground. Such a fast movement made his head spin. His gut urked. He really hoped the nausea didn't act on itself.

Roman set him down on the bed, and immediately he was pulled down to join him. Remus clung to him as if he was his lifeline. He felt nauseous, and dizzy, and- oh.

Oh, sh*t.

Roman quickly summoned a wastebasket once he saw Remus' paler-than-normal face and heard him gag. Remus threw up a lot of things into the basket. Mostly liquids and whatever the f*ck he ate earlier that day. When nothing more but bile sat in his throat, Roman summoned the basket away. Remus felt like his throat was on fire, and it stung. Tears pricked his eyes, but he was too exhausted by then to cry anymore.

Roman rubbed his back as Remus wiped away any remaining ickiness from his mouth. He still felt so dizzy. In fact, he wobbled even while leaning on Roman. His brother side-hugged him with one arm, pulling him in close. Keeping a tight grip, as if it would steady his twin. It was, at least, a firm reminder that someone was there. That Remus wasn't handling it alone this time.

Not like most times before.

Roman wordlessly summoned a water bottle, knowing dehydration was already seeded in place. Maybe that's why he was still dizzy? Maybe water would help.

"Hey, Rem. You need some water."

Remus almost didn't catch his words, but the water bottle being handed to him made the words obvious. He stayed silent, trying to open the cap himself. Unfortunately, he hands twitched and felt weak from the aftermath of his panic attack. He let out a frustrated huff.

"It's okay, I got you."

Roman opened the water bottle for him, and Remus nearly chugged it. Roman lightly chided him and made a point of needing to slow down. The bottle ended up half-gone, and Roman set it on Remus' bedside table. His brother clung to him so tightly. He still seemed tense.

Roman carded a gentle hand through Remus' unruly hair, and he just melted at the affection. He felt a wave of comfort and calm wash over him.

I'm safe. Roman is here, and I'm safe.

However calm he felt, Remus refused to fall asleep again. He knew another nightmare awaited him, and he certainly couldn't take another one. At least, not until the next night, anyway. Or maybe the next two nights. Or three. He was debating on staying awake for more than 24 hours again, but look at where that got him.

Don't sleep, they'll come for you again.

Remus suddenly hid his face in Roman's chest, hearing his heartbeat. As if his brother was a shield from all his thoughts. As if his heartbeat could drown every sound his head made. Or make sound where sound was absent.

He didn't like how quiet it was.

"Talk," Remus' voice was raspy and quiet.

"...what?"

Remus felt no need to muster any more words. So instead, he just whined.

"Okay, what about?"

His brother shrugged.

"Alright, then. I would like to know what the f*ck just happened."

Remus hesitated before trying to speak.

"Night- nightmare."

"You got... wait, what? A nightmare? Remus, nightmares don't do that to people."

Remus shrugged.

"Always get them. Not... not that bad."

He spoke so soft and raspy, and sounded so vulnerable. It made Roman's own gut twist uncomfortably. His brother was going through this most nights? Every night? How often did this even happen? And what did he mean, 'not that bad'? Roman felt scared for his twin, and couldn't begin to imagine how it felt for Remus.

"Rem, no- always? Remus, you had a panic attack. And you- you threw up. That's not a normal nightmare. That's... Rem, you kept screaming."

Another shrug. Roman still carded a hand through his brother's hair. He was tempted to hold him tighter, but he didn't want to risk him throwing up again.

He still wobbled, even if it were the littlest bit. Roman was worried. Why is he still dizzy? He had water. Why was Remus still so dizzy? Is he just shaken up? With a nightmare like that, he wouldn't be surprised.

"Remus, do you know what a night terror is?"

That got the darker twin suddenly sitting up, no longer hiding himself in his brother's hold.

"Not that bad. Just... yes, but-"

"Rem..."

Remus shrunk in on himself at Roman's tone. He sounded distressed. But why would he?

It's not like he's ever there, anyway. Why would he care? Why would he worry?

"Hey, I'm sorry. It's okay."

Roman pulled him back into a hug, using both his arms to wrap around his brother. Remus rested his chin on Roman's shoulder. The hand that once carded through his hair now rubbed his back. On his shoulder blades. Soothing circles. Calm, soothing circles.

Remus melted into his brother's touch.

"...do you know what caused it?"

Remus nodded slightly, though unsure how it would sound. The reason was dumb. The reason was always dumb.

"Is it okay if you share? You don't have to, of course."

Remus exhaled his nerves and let himself speak.

"Bad day. Lots of... conflict."

Roman immediately looked down at him in guilty surprise.

Oh no, I f*cked up. He's going to laugh-

"Did us arguing give you a nightmare?"

Roman's voice cracked mid-sentence.

Remus refused to look at him.

"...kind of. Not- not just you."

Roman had a feeling where this was going. And he really hated it. He hoped he was wrong.

"Remus, what else was it?"

"Thoughts..."

Roman never felt so upset to be right. He knew his brother had his own bad thoughts on some level. But he didn't think... how bad were they to cause a nightmare? Or, if he dared to say, a night terror? Did Remus filter himself? Roman thought he didn't have impulse control. Maybe he was wrong.

What a very sucky thing to be wrong about.

"Oh, brother... little gremlin, I'm so sorry."

Remus simply snuggled into Roman, not wanting to answer any more questions. He didn't quite understand why his brother was sorry. How could he be apologizing? It's not his fault Remus' thoughts went wack with every conflict or argument. It was just a norm Remus grew into. Just another part of being the embodiment of Thomas' Instrusive Thoughts. It was normal. He was fine.

Okay, he was clearly not fine, but that's what he told himself. Janus once said lying like that was just him coping. Janus was never wrong.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?"

Remus immediately shook his head vigorously.

"Okay, okay. Noted. Just... does anyone ever help you out?"

Remus hummed, a quiet yes.

"Good, that's good. I'm guessing Ja- uh, someone who also lives down here?"

Remus briefly gave him a weird look, but he brushed it off as him being exhausted from his nightmare. Roman was weird, anyway. He nodded.

"Then why in the f*ck isn't he here?"

Roman had an angry edge to his voice, a protective anger over his very hurt brother.

Remus froze at the slightly angry tone, and Roman sighed. He didn't mean to scare him.

"What I mean is he should be here helping you. Not angry at you. Just wanna know why he isn't here."

Remus relaxed a little at that. He shrugged, tracing four letters on Roman's arm.

B-U-S-Y

Roman understood.

"Busy? How on earth could he be busy when you're hurting like this?"

Another shrug. He seemed to do that a lot.

He'll feel so guilty if he found out I had a nightmare again, he wanted to say. He'll hate how he wasn't there.

But Remus was far too tired to speak anymore. So, he settled on staying quiet. As long as there was some other noise, he'd be fine. As long as Roman kept talking.

"I still don't understand how he could- whatever, I'll beat his ass later," Roman huffed.

Remus snorted at the mention of ass, causing his brother to smile. Laughter is good. It means he's starting to feel better.

It was silent for almost three minutes before Roman spoke again.

"Ya know how I found you like that? Remy got me."

Remus hummed.

Remy? The Sleep f*cker? Why would... oh, sh*t my ass and call me a poop log.

Remy saw. That b*tch saw it all. Remus paled and almost thought he'd throw up again.

Roman seemed to notice because he summoned another wastebasket, prepared to tip it towards Remus in case he got sick. Remus lightly shook his head no, he wasn't going to vomit. Roman kept the wastebasket nearby, though. Just in case.

Roman hugged his brother tighter, planting a light kiss on his disheveled mop of hair. Remus melted at the affection given. God, Roman was being soft and protective. It almost made Remus want to cry again. He probably would've.

But as mentioned before, he was just too exhausted. His body ached and his eyes felt heavy. Like two little anvils that squished baby birds with a loud crack. It would make a loud crack if it happened, at least.

Remus calmed down again as Roman continued explaining, remaining cautious of his next words.

"He was very worried. He kept, like... he talked real fast. All I got was you were hurt and alone, so I ran my way here."

Remy was worried?

Did I hear that right?

"A lot of people care about you, ya know. I- well, I don't show it very well and I'm sorry for that, Rem. I love you, okay? Please, just... come to me if no one else is there."

A pause. Hesitation.

"I promise to be better, okay?"

Remus nodded, half-believing his brother's words. He spelled out an I-L-Y-2 on Roman's arm. Luckily, with enough time around Patton, his twin understood.

"Do you still need me to talk?"

Remus nodded.

And Roman kept talking. He rambled on about ideas and adventures he went on in the Imagination alone, and Remus gave him a couple glares of don't die, idiot as he went on. By morning, Roman was very much wanting to sleep, and Remus had forgotten about his nightmare.

Janus did catch the sight of the twins in each other's arms, one rambling to the other. He didn't press further and simply left the room, unnoticed. Though guilt shocked his veins, he knew it wasn't the time to ask. As long as Remus was taken care of, it was okay. Remus would always be the one person he'd put before himself. At least, in reference to the other Sides.

And Roman nearly beat his ass when he saw him, later that morning. Janus' guilt was obvious and almost infectious. So, he let it go for now. He wouldn't be so merciful if there was ever a next time, though.

He made a note to argue less with his twin. And maybe check on him a lot more, especially during the night. Especially when he got quiet. It scared him when he got quiet.

He still couldn't get Remus' screams out of his head.

[ditttiii]

i am writing a sad sad sad i think eventual happy oneshot with jk and it may maynot be hurting me in real time

spoilers under cut if curious xx:’)xx

xxxx

You see the way he laughs carelessly from a distance, watch how he throws his head back, an arm rising to casually sling around the neck of the woman beside. Your feet are rooted to where you stand, like a vine grown from the soil hidden beneath the marble flooring that has come out just to hold you down. Stop you from making a fool of yourself, say something bad, or worse–too nice. 

At eighteen you had thought time would heal all your wounds, help you move on. The unflinching tick of a clock would force you to heal, make your hollow heart full, piece by every cracked piece. The cruel irony lay there though. The pieces he left behind in his wake no longer fit as they used to. The edges are all jagged and worn, and no matter how hard you try to fix them, align them a million different ways, they no longer fit. There are gaps, spaces of who you used to be that he took with him when he forced you to leave him and you’re still hurt, still so so angry at him. For cheating on you, for loving someone else, for snatching your soul from within you until all that was left was a hollow shell of a teenage girl too lost to find her way. 

If you could, you would change every feeling, find a way for space to be the thing that you needed, find the half of you that he took with him and sew it tight to what was left behind. He’s still smiling, still oblivious to how happy he is; how unhappy you are and you want to hate him. 

You want to look at him and feel disgust, horror, disappointment but all that fills your twenty-two year old self is a sense of loss. Like losing a cherished childhood trinket handed down by someone who’s no longer to see you wear it. 

The lights are dim but not low enough for you not to be able to make him out. He has grown taller, by a head and then some. Where there was once lean sinewy muscle now sits a bulky frame and the shirt he’s wearing does nothing to hide it. The woman beside him tilts her head, rests it on his shoulder in a move so casual it pierces your heart in one clean swipe. There’s a familiarity there that you are envious of until there’s bile in your throat, burning, burning and you’re making a mad dash for the restroom. Pushing past people without apologising because you are afraid you’ll throw up if you open your mouth. 

Falling to your knees, you ignore the hurt, the sting of the cold tiles against your knees and retch. It’s pathetic, the sight of your tears mixing with your saliva and your eyes clenching shut in a vain attempt to keep them at bay. You can’t. Not today. Not in front of him.

It blurs, the sight of him with the woman today and the memory of him in bed with your best friend until it leaves your head spinning. Betrayed and hurting all over again.  

[landedinlove]

i trust you and i trust you and i trust you and for all my trust i get vomit on the sidewalk and tears in my eyes

and i'm making sure we get home safe, calling someone you know and walking away from my months in the making happiness

i'm not leaving you and i would never leave you but you're not the only one i was worried about

but you're hurting and i'm not good at healing but i'll do whatever i can to make you comfortable, to fix your sickness and forget about mine

yes, i'm okay are you? are you sure? is there anything i can do? i'll do anything

and anything and anything and i'll trust you again and you'll break it again, throwing up until there's nothing left but organs but i've never seen your heart

you'll never see mine

is more going to come out?

cause i'll shed my tears in silence and take pictures to document it

while you sit in the shower with your friends i'm sitting on your carpet and trying and failing to click my shoes over blisters and appear at home

i don't know anyone here except for you so i guess i don't know anyone

thousands of miles away from my life i put on pause for you and i'm feeling like a ghost you're walking through and tripping down the stairs

i didn't mean it and i hope you're okay but it wasn't my fault in the first place and i hope you don't feel the sting or the blood but i hope you feel the weight on my shoulders and the tremors in my transparent heart

can you see right through me? how are you feeling? i hope you're doing okay. i hope you'll take care of yourself

mjh 6/4/23

[yinzhengs]

due diligence fandom: おっさんずラブ | Ossan's Love (TV 2016) rated E (PWP), M/M (maki ryota/haruta soichi)

Haruta swallows down the strange weight in his pit of his stomach. He doesn't know what he wants, but he—he wants Maki to feel good, wants to show Maki that he's serious about all of this.