#yeah so my hair's not actually black but everything else was too light yknow-

[mythvoiced]

MAKE YOUR MUSE & YOURSELF.

TAGGED BY:  @intergalacticxmisfits HERE SHE IS, TANUKI BBY IN ALL HER GLORY TAGGING: @busanbunnie @naturalheal @apearlwrites @enchcntd @liibertcs @ofdays @airxn @emberlied @theimpalpable @unearthlyxones @iinterminatis @ovcrdramatiic @delicatewiz @falling-for-a-fantasy @gigglcwatcrr @kodo-kai @viriditty @naivelost @mxgxnghwa & YKNOW U

[dreamrecorder]

Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request

Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.

Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️

IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj

But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-

Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️

The heart yearns and the wind heard

lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks

anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long

The Yaksha sighs.

He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.

He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.

He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.

One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.

Xiao sighs again.

This is his karmic debt.

~

The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.

You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.

With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.

“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.

“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.

You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.

Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.

Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.

Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.

“Name?”

You answered immediately with a questioning hum.

“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”

It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.

Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.

Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’

“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.

~

When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.

“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.

“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.

The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.

Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”

Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”

You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.

“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”

The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.

“Did Ganyu tell you?”

The Archon nodded and you sighed.

“I volunteered, actually.”

And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.

“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.

For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.

“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”

A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”

You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”

“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”

~

The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?

You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”

Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.

To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“

“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.

~

As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.

If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.

Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.

Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.

Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.

~ 

The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.

It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.

It’s ready.

With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.

Scratch.

Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.

Scratch.

Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.

Scratch.

Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.

Scratch.

What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-

“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”

The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.

The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”

~

There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.

As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.

Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.

~

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.

Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.

He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.

Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.

Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.

To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.

Everything hurts-

And everything was driving you mad.

You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall. 

This god- he was driving you mad slowly.

If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-

You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.

If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it. 

Please

However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.

~

Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.

The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.

With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more. 

“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?” 

To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”

“Where?” The Yaksha growled.

“In the Golden House.”

Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.

To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils. 

Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself. 

It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice. 

“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?” 

The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-

His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.

In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”

~

He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue. 

In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.

“I will ask you again, where is she?”

In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.

“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.

I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”

Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore. 

Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.

All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.

Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.

“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.

With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”

But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil. 

“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”

With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer. 

Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night. 

The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.

You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.

Please, just a little more...

Please, just stop...

Please...

The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.

“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”

With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.

“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-

You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.

“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’

The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”

With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.

After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”

The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.

A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-

how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks

[marveloussupernerd]

Don’t Hate the Player - Oikawa Tooru

Chapter 5: I Like You...

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Warning: this also contains some text in between! It’s right after the black line ❤️

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Synopsis: The most popular female gamer on YouTube. Debatably the most popular volleyball player alive. A bad breakup sent you packing to Argentina for new perspective. Who knew the new perspective had a witty personality and beautiful eyes? Tooru only sees a broken girl whose heart he wants to mend — his goal is to be the best neighbor possible... and maybe a little something more

You made your way up the apartment stairs, mind still spinning over the messages from your ex. He was just such an idiot... finally messaging you the minute you were happy.

Then there was Tooru. He was so sweet and funny and he always knew how to make you smile. And he was? Sitting on the steps?

“Tooru? What are you doing?” You asked. He was in an awkward position, face towards the steps, half-leaning against the wall.

“Oh! Sunshine,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was... just tying my shoes.”

“Oh...” you trailed off, obviously not believing such a shitty excuse. His positioning made no sense for tying his shoes, and he was doing an awful job of hiding the grimace on his face. “You want me to wait for you?”

“Nah, it’s alright!”

You shrugged, muttering out an ‘okay’ then went to drop your bag off in your apartment. You made your way back to the apartment stairs a moment later, to see Tooru taking deep breaths, in the same spot he was in moments ago.

“Do you need help tying your shoe or something?” You joked, moving to take a seat on the stairs next to him. “You know, if you Google ‘Oikawa Tooru,’ ‘injury’ is one of the first things that comes up.”

“Wow, how dare the volleyball fans give me away like that,” he said weakly, turning to you to show you a smile.

“Is it your knee?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I fell on it on my way up the stairs. I’ll be okay though.”

“Is this like a, you need to go to the hospital injury? Or like a you need to go to bed and rest injury?”

He grinned at you. “To bed. I’ve had the hospital-type injury, so I can confirm it’s not that.”

You wrapped your arm around his waist, moving slowly to pull him up into a half-standing position, taking most of his weight on the side with his bad knee. “Alright, let’s go inside then,” you grunted, helping him up the stairs and to his door. He went fumbling in his pocket for his keys. “You’re not light y’know, Tooru,” you joked.

He laughed in response. “It’s all muscle Sunshine. Maybe you just can’t handle a strong guy like me.”

“Who’s carrying who right now?”

Tooru finally got the door opened, and you helped him inside to sit on his couch, recliner out so he could put his feet up. “I’ll go get you some ice,” you explained, running to your apartment to get some things he may need. You came back, dumping your collection of items—bandages, ice packs, neosporin, bandaids, tissues—on the table.

“Wow! You’ve got the whole collection. Pretty sure you missed your calling as a doctor.”

You rolled your eyes at him, checking over his knee to make sure there weren’t any cuts or scrapes on it, then settling for just an ice pack and elevation. “You okay? You need anything else?” You asked once you were confident the knee was being well-taken care of.

He grinned. “Nah. It’s like I’m back with my mom. The only thing missing is a Spider-Man bandaid and a kiss to make it all better.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but thank goodness your mind worked fast. “Can you believe they didn’t have Spider-Man bandaids at the store? Well, hopefully this’ll do...” without giving it a second thought, you leaned in, lips gently brushing against his own for only a short moment, then pulled back.

His cheeks were pink and his eyes were wide. He cupped your cheek and pulled you back in for another short kiss. “Yknow,” he started, his voice soft, “This feels so different from our actual first kiss.”

“Well yeah. This time I really like you.”

“You didn’t like me before?” He teased. “You sure seemed to.”

“You know what I mean. This was way more nerve-wracking than our actual first kiss... I like you, really.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like we’re doing everything out of order.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, standing up. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m just one door over.”

“You’re leaving?” He whined. “But... we just kissed. And said we liked each other-“

“You never actually said you liked me.”

“I thought my lips made it quite obvious.”

You huffed. He opened his arms wide. “Come cuddle with me. I’ll heal five times faster with you here with me.”

“That makes no sense,” you rolled your eyes, but your legs were still taking you back to him, plopping down next to him on the couch and scooching into his embrace.

“You wanna believe it too though.” He grabbed your face one more time, planting a kiss on your lips, then moved his hand to rest in your hair, slowly running his hand through it. “This is perfect. Right here, with you.”

“Shut up and get some rest, Tooru.”

Taglist: @rileystebbs @lilith412426 @renhold-nightspear @notendoplasm @missalienqueen @namyari lmk if you want to be added!

Sorry this one is a little shorter, but i hope the fluff made up for it ❤️ don't worry teru will show up in tomorrow's chapter!

[youngbloodlisk]

[1800] // Kim Sunwoo

"You're so sexy when you're domestic."

word count: 1560

- straight up dom kim sunwoo smut

- my first time writing smut so sorry for how awful this is lol oh well

- rough but caring sunny boy

- implied future voyerism w eric

- consent checks bc yknow what turns me on more than most anything? CONSENT CHECKS

I jump and almost drop the cutting board full of diced onion in my hands when Sunwoo slides his arms around my waist, clasping them together in front of my body as he presses himself into my back and sways lightly.

"Hey, baby..." He whispers in my ear.

"Hey, how was work?" I slowly continue cooking, carefully using the knife to slide the diced onion off the board and into the simmering pot on the stove.

"Frustrating... it's a long story, I don't really wanna talk about it. Is that okay?"

"Of course, hon." I give him a loving smile and he sighs with satisfaction, burying his head in my neck.

We stay there for a few minutes, me chopping vegetables and swaying with him as he just breathes slowly and deeply into my skin.

Suddenly I feel his tongue on my neck, wet and rough, and my body lights up.

"What are you doing-"

"Shh..." He sensually hisses before placing his mouth back onto my neck, soon finding himself lightly sucking on my skin.

It's becoming continually harder to focus on making this soup.

A small moan escapes my mouth and Sunwoo mutters a deep, rough...

"Oh, baby."

He grabs my hips and turns me to face him, before he reaches behind me and turns off the stove burner.

"What about dinner?" I question.

"That's a problem for later, right now I just wanna-"

"Sunwoo, that was really hot of you, but if we let it cook while we have fun then it'll be ready about when we're finished and all cleaned up. Turn the stove back on." He sighs and reaches to turn the burner back onto a heat level of 4.

"You're so sexy when you're domestic."

"Thanks. Now what is it you wanted to do to me?" I look up at him with innocent, yet dark eyes. The ones I know drive him crazy. And yeah, maybe that's my intention when I use them.

My attempt proves successful when he smirks and looks at me like a wild animal looking at it's next meal.

He picks me up, takes me to the living room, and tosses me onto the couch.

He never has been one for kitchen pounding, but no way is he gonna make it all the way to his bedroom before pulling my clothes off my body.

Speaking of which, it isn't a mere 10 seconds later before my shirt and shorts are being tossed across the room like rags.

Sunwoo stops and takes in my lacy, almost entirely see-through black set.

"For me?" His ego boosts, knowing the answer full well.

"Who else?"

"I don't know, you've said Eric's kinda hot before." He cocks an eyebrow. "You wouldn't do something like that right? Go be a slut for Eric?"

"Not when I have you."

"You better not, baby. He can only see you like this with my permission..." He moves me so that I'm fully laying on my back on the couch and begins to slide my underwear down, with the slowest movement of his entire life.

The implication that Sunwoo isn't opposed to Eric viewing me in this extremely risqué position, only requiring Sunwoo's permission for it, causes my eyes to roll back and an embarrassing whine to leave me.

"Oh? My baby likes that idea?" He finally pulls my underwear off of my body entirely and tosses them aside with my other clothes. "I'll have to bring it up to Eric sometime... But tonight, you're all mine. For my eyes only, and for my tongue only." With that super cringe, cheesy statement he licks a long stripe up my pussy.

Instantly, my eyes shut and my hands rush to find his hair. As his tongue and lips work me over, my breathing is growing heavy and my hips begin to press up against him.

He takes his mouth away, causing me to whine both at the sudden lack of friction and the sight of his mouth all wet and shining.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

"I-"

"Aren't you?"

"Yes..."

"Then you don't dictate when you cum, baby. I do. You sit back and let me taste my love. You'll cum in due time. But if you decide to be disobedient, you don't cum at all. Understand?"

I gulp.

That was really hot...

"I understand."

"And you remember your safe word if you want me to stop?" I nod in response.

"Red."

"Good." His hands rest on my hips to help hold me down as he dives in again.

It's a good thing he's holding me down because if he wasn't doing that... I wouldn't be physically able to be obedient.

"S-Sun-Sunwoo, slow down- I'm gonna c-cum-"

He immediately pulls away right as I'm on the edge and I writhe around like a small child who didn't get the chocolate chip cookie they wanted.

"You cum on my cock only, baby. You know that." He unbuttons his pants at the speed of light, his intense hard on making him work faster than usual. "I'm not gonna have to punish you, am I?"

"No, Sunwoo. Please, I'll be good."

He pumps himself a few times before looking at me with genuine eyes, his hard demeanor breaking for a moment to make sure that everything is okay and I want to continue.

I return the genuine look and nod.

He sweetly smiles for a moment, before regaining Hard Dom Sunwoo and slowly pushing into me.

Erotic sounds leave both of us as he bottoms out and stills for a second.

Only for a second though.

He quickly pulls out and slams back into me.

My back arches and I cover my mouth, afraid of the extremely embarrassing noises I'm liable to make as he pounds into me.

He reaches up and grabs my wrist, pulling my hand away from my mouth and ending up holding both of my hands above my head.

"Let me hear you, baby. Let your body tell me how good I make you feel." He's holding my arms up with one hand and the other hand grabs my leg to pull it up over his shoulder.

Once my leg is propped up on his body, he holds my hip and speeds up his pace.

He's reaching me deeper than he ever has before, and my body is DEFINITELY telling him all about it without my permission.

"Sunwoo, please, please, please... Please let me cum. Can I cum?"

"Cum around me, sweetheart. Let me feel you."

He winces in pleasure as I clench around his dick, my orgasm hitting me like a bus.

He lets go of my hands.

"Are you okay, honey? Can I keep going?" I know he's making sure I'm still okay to let him finish inside me. He's told me about a million times that when I cum first, if I want him to stop and finish himself off in the bathroom, he will.

Even though he has needs of his own, he always puts me and my comfort first.

It's just one of the things I really adore about him.

"Yeah, keep going. I'll be alright."

"Are you sure?" His tone tells me that he doesn't believe me, given how hard my orgasm hit. He's afraid I'm far too sensitive and he doesn't want to hurt me.

"Yes, Sunwoo." I grab his hand and look him dead in the eyes. "I promise. I know my word, red. I'm fine. Keep going."

It takes him a second to accept it, but he eventually nods and takes a deep breath before he starts slowly thrusting in and out of me again.

Admittedly, I am still sensitive, but it isn't near as bad as he's imagining in his overprotective mind.

He begins getting lost in the pleasure and his pace quickens, along with his thrusts growing more powerful and deep.

Just the sight of him in so much pleasure from fucking me makes me sweat.

His thrusts become inconsistent and jerky as he gets closer to his release.

Sunwoo hits me with one more hard and deep thrust, filling me with his cum.

He rides out his high and spurts a bit more cum into me before coming to a halt and carefully laying himself onto my body.

I wrap my arms around him in an embrace full of love.

"That wasn't too much, was it? Do you need me to do anything for you, sweetheart?"

"No, it was great, Sunwoo. I'm all good. Are you?"

"I'm great." His stomach growls in protest to that statement and I laugh at the irony. "Just kind of hungry."

"Glad I told you to turn the stove back on, aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're always right." I can practically hear his eye roll in his tone.

"Bet your ass I am."

Sunwoo buries his face in my neck, laughing with me.

His position makes me recall the neck kisses that began all of this earlier.

"Sunwoo, did you give me a hickey?"

"What?"

"Earlier at the stove. Did you give me a hickey? Did you give me a hickey that I'm gonna have to cover up before Juyeon's birthday party tomorrow?"

"Leave it out. Let the guys see. Half of them refuse to believe I actually get any. Prove them wrong for me, babe."

"Kim Sunwoo!"

[insomnihan]

han’s Entire Thoughts & Feelings on Dreamcatcher’s “BEcause”

WE ARE F UCKING UNDER ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there are no read mores here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALRIGHT SO-

THE SONG WHERE DO I START WELL- I SAW A COMMENT SOMEWHERE THAT WAS LIKE ‘THIS HAS GOODNIGHT CREEPINESS WITH RED SUN ESSENCE’ WHOEVER THAT WAS YOUR BRAIN IS GINORMOUS™ AND WRINKLY- IF YOU LISTEN TO IT THE SLIGHT SUMMER VIBE IS TOTALLY THERE YET THE PIANO AND THE HARP (MAYBE I DUNNO BUT WHAT I DOONO IS THAT IT SLAPS) THE PRE CHORUS BUILD UP FAST AS HELL THE DRUMS ARE FAST AS S HIT THE CLOCK IS SO CREEPY THE GUITAR IS JUST ASDFFJGHLHKL;;’ THE DOUBLE TIME DURING DAMIS RAP THAT WAS LITERALLY™ AN ATTEMPT TO TAKE MY LIFE (they were this 👌 close istg) AND THEN THE BRDIGE…………………… SOMEONE TAKE THE WHEEL-

AND THEN THEIR VOICES POWERFUL AS ALWAYS AND THAT F UCKING DISTORTION S HIT DURING ‘FOREVER LOVE AND FOREVER MINE’ IS ACTUAL DR*GS- i dunno what it is but the instrumental being like that and then (to me anyway) theres such a sweet undertone (???) in how they sing and then knowing the lyrics likE I KNOW THEYRE OBSESSED- B O I DO I MISS A FAST DAMI RAP P L E A S E I FEEL LIKE SHES THREATENING ME I LOVE THAT PSYCHO NOISE B ICYJ- THAT BRIDGE IS F UCKING CRAZY SIYEONS AND HANDONGS AND YOOHYEONS GENTLE VOICES AND THEN S U A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUREALLYGOTTACOMEOUTOFTHELEFTGODDAMNFIELDWITHTHATICANTSTANDYOUHOWDAREYOUJUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hello hello for the dance section i will be using THE mcountdown performance yEAH THE ONE POSTED BEFORE THE ACTUAL MV/ALBUM DROP- FIRST OF ALL THE INTRO sorry i have to talk about this theyre so creepy and doll like and jiu is so menacing lIKE WHAT THE F UCK IS THAT (someone answer me what iN THE F CUK did she feed yoohyeon)- NOW ANYWAY I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THE ACTUAL DANCE-

OFF THE BAT THE MIRROR INTRODUCTION IS *CHEFS KISS* and then gahyeon choking jiu?????????? LORE????????? IN CHOREOGRAPHY?????????

LISTEN. L I S T E N. ALL OF THEM LIFTING YOOHYEON AT 1:29 LIKE THATS INSANE AND SO FITTING FOR THIS SONG AND VIBE plus yknow………………… handong doing a lot of the lifting………… 👉👈

this specific video doesnt show it during suas verse (which is like Rude™ but fine they show it elsewhere obv) but when shes singing and the rest of them are dropping down slowly………………… yeah-

THE CHORUS EVERY👏SINGLE👏F UCKING👏TIME👏 LIKE THE POSE THEY DO FOR ‘BE’?????????????? THE POWER AND THE GENIUS™ OF IT??????????????????????

DAMI UNHAND ME UNHOLY DEMON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the bridge…………… the rocking from side to side…………… whatever the f uck handong and yoohyeon are doing…………… it was almost like sua was controlling everyone right like deadass im scared-

THE DANCE BREAK PLS LET ME BREATHE

the ending with everyone bowing but gahyeon…………

BICTH……………… BICHY- THE VISUALS JUST KEEP LEVELING THE F UCK UP THATS LIT RALLY INSANE I LOVE THAT FOR THEM- the moment that mystery code was revealed and we were getting demented creepy carnival i waS V I B R A T I N G™ WITH EXCITEMENT the creepy scenery of the  dark hotel lobby and the rundown carnival with the merry go round and teacups AND WITH A CULT and the hallway with the mirrors and the lights (like the use of SO much red and green……… the symbolism………) JUST EVERYTHING IS SO F UCKING ABANDONED AND S HIT- THE LITERAL MIRRORING AND DIMENSION S HIT WHAT THE F UCK!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT CREEPY ASS ROOM WHERE THEY KIDNAPPED GAHYEON IN AND SIYEON WAS ACTING ALL TWITCHY OR WHATEVER WHAT WAS THAT-

TIME TO SHOW WHICH SCENES I LIKED

THE WHOLE GODDAMN THI-

(jk ☺️)

OFF THE BAT GAHYEON MAIN CHARACTER I KNOW THATS RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

…………………… i just wanted to put this here-

i just wanted to put this here too-

HOW DID YOU EVEN GET HERE

id like to think that the real handong is one getting dragged away and the one standing is the doppelganger (for Plot™ purposes)

W H A T T H E F U C K

I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY OTHER THAN IM SCARED-

G OD WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE THIS PART WAS SO WEIRD WHAT DOES THIS MEAN WHAT DOES IT MEAN

HELLO??????????????????

yeah sure let me take this apple from this broken mirror where another me lies within the walls of this creepy hotel anD EAT IT

W E L P-

………………………………… F-

T H E M

I DUNNO HOW IM BREATHING RN-

JIU

whaT IN THE F UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS SCENE IN THIS SCREENSHOT IS ALREADY A LOT the way she looks seemingly unassuming and harmless in that reception desk that brown and white outfit (is her hair in like………… pigtails???) and then the smile to the instant glare you jusT KNOW youre gonna d*e in that place- MAAAAN BANGS OR NO BANGS SHES STUNNING EITHER WAY AND THATS SO RUDE………… the white dress and those red ACTUAL TALONS will be the d*ath of me

SUA

if i counted correctly she had three (3) different outfits??? outside of the dance ones??? white and red then black and purple then that green and black one??? i think of all of those i really like the red and the green one theres SOMETHING ABOUT THEM i think the green one with the big puffy sleeves more NOT BC ITS MY FAVORITE COLOR I SWEAR the green looks silky and then she also has the thing on the side of her face the pearls in her hair- AND THEN THAT RED ONE with the white sleeves and the frilly collar dude whAT THE F UCK LIKE I KNOW WE SAW IT A LOT BUT I WANNA SEE MORE THO……………

SIYEON

OKAYOKAYOKAY LOOK- THIS OUTFIT IN THIS SCREENSHOT I FEEL LIKE I SHOULDNT LIKE IT YET I DO????????????? two completely different looking patterns that animal print and the strips and then that big ass belt (???) around her waist like this shouldnt be like a GOOD look i dont think……… truly only She™ could make this look work 😔😔😔 i got A LOT A LOT to say about the red and orange plaid crop top and skirt with the different colored clips in her head but the only thought going through my Dumb of Ass Stupid Brain™ iS HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

HANDONG

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY NATURAL BLONDE BELOVED this white dress and the BLACK BOOTS AND THE CHOKER SHE BETTER S TOP- AND DO NOT I REPEAT D O N O T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ON THAT SHORT WHITE DRESS WITH THE WHITE BOOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOEVER STYLED HER YOU DONT CARE ABOUT ME AND THE OTHER HANDONGISTS YET I ALSO LOVE YOU SO MUCH the one with the pink dress dont talk to me dont approach me donT EVEN F UCKING LOOK AT ME IM GOING THROUGH A LOT RN

YOOHYEON

im really Dumb of Ass™ i thought that one pink and (maybe???) super light blue dress had a clock on it- BUT MOVING ON FROM THAT the space buns and whatever those accessories those are and the pink makeup this is sO- then the white dance outfit with those (mesh??? lace??? i just know that its see through-) sleeves and those big ass earrings THAT LOOK AT 2:24 the boots (yeah i gotta mention that first since i just ALWAYS have to mention them) the white blazer all those pearl long ass necklaces and whatever that is on the side of her face why do her visuals HURT SO BAD-

DAMI

bicth…………………………………… B I C T H- WHAT HAS THIS WOMAN BEEN DOING??????!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!??!??!?!?! THIS OUTFIT IS SUCH AN ATTACK I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS ON HER FACE THIS WHOLE LOOK IS SOMETHING ELSE™ her tattoo 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 that bottom part of her hair is kinda clapped tho honestly- the pig tails?????? braids?????? in the dancing part on the black and white tiles IM DOWN YALL IM DOWN SO BAD AND ITS F UCKING RUDE™ THAT WE DONT SEE S HIT OF THAT DRESS AT THE END-

GAHYEON

IM GONNA SAY IT AGAIN LEE👏GAHYEON👏MAIN👏CHARACTER👏I👏KNOW👏THATS👏RIGHT👏👏👏👏👏👏👏!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS RED HAIR IS A BLESSING (especially in that high ponytail i-) SHE IS ATTACKING ME BUT YKNOW WHAT THATS OKAY- im SURE theres a plot significance to her two different dresses the mostly black and the mostly white but my brain can only register WOMAN PRETTY that white one in particular…………… the choker with her hair up and those boots…………… i saw it clear as day and im d wording over it-

BONUS TIME: B-SIDE TRACKS (thoughts and parts i liked)

Intro

i usually expect the intro to be like SUPER HYPE AND INTENSE yknow which it kinda is! however it is consistent that it fits very well and captures the overall vibe of the entire album the calm beginning with the bell like were walking into an establishment and at the halfway point it picks up its intriguing and the ‘i like you’ adds a subtle eeriness that adds just enough to make one wanna continue listening its v good 👌

Airplane

LISTEN……………… LISTEN- this is the VERY LAST genre i expected out of this group YET im not even a little bit shocked that they did this like this cutesy izone-esque summer bop of a song is a DREAMCATCHER™ song……………… YALL- THE AMOUNT OF SEROTONIN THAT ‘AIRPLANE LALALALALALA~~~~~~~’ BRINGS IS SOMETHING SO PERSONAL THIS SECOND GENERATION SUMMERY ASS INSTRUMENTAL WHAT IN THE F UCK- I FEEL LIKE IM RUNNING ON THE BEACH I FEEL THE COLD WIND OF THE WATER BUT THE HEAT OF THE SUN AGAINST MY SKIN AND IM PLAYING WITH A DAMN BEACH BALL WITH A COCONUT DRINK (I F UCKING H*TE LEAVING MY HOUSE) JIU AND DAMI SOUND SO F UCKING PHENOMENAL

Whistle

im pretty firm on believing these b sides represent different times of a summer day and this is the late evening or twilight like not nighttime but CLOSE- i thought i wasnt gonna like the whistling part but that only makes it catchieR THIS SONG IS MAKING ME YEARN AND TRYING TO RECALL LOVELY MEMORIES I DONT EVEN HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! then again……………… theres always usually a song on their albums that make me unlock and feel hidden emotions………… THIS SONG GOT ME MISSING A PERSON THAT ISNT REAL this is such a mellow yet so powerful in the way they sing and express each syllable- they all did so good on this song but i gotta mention dami again for her part like oH mY gOoOoOooOoOOOooOD

Alldaylong

JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the way this song was inspired by a hug jiu got from yoohyeon…………… THIS IS NOT A JOKE she said ‘i wanna try city pop’ anD SHE DONE DID IT- i have NO IDEA how this song managed to hold so much joy and light happiness in every word and instrument used in this but im :ccccccc i literally wanna hug someone after listening to this 😔😔😔 this also makes me yearn for something but at least this one isnt unrealistic or unobtainable i dont think! there are some songs out there that make me cry from its lyrics and its sound but THIS ONE the lyrics and just how happy this song is bro reading the lyrics im about to cry for like the fifth time- they who im love so much… :ccccccc doesnt it make you just wanna hug someone and tell them you love them????????? that you appreciate them??????????

해바라기의 마음 (A Heart of Sunflower)

i knew FOR A FACT FOR👏A👏FACT👏 that they were gonna have a ballad for this album bc road to utopia didnt have one i will admit i was one of the 🤡 that thought jiu would be credited on this song 😬😬😬 ANYWAY- AGAIN WITH THE DAMN YEARNING FOR SOMETHING BUT THIS TIME IM F UCKING SAD AS S HIT why must this song be so powerful to make me emotional before i even got to read the lyrics to fully grasp it……………………… now im truly yearning in the Sad™ way and waiting for some imaginary person who i dont even know will even come back…………………… those damn adlibs are pretty as hell it was sua (and i have to mention dami again okay shes really killing it on this she woNT LET ME LIVE-) who got me feeling this the most like yeah…………………… i am a fool…………… im a fool for loving and missing someone who just disappeared from my lifE G O D D A M N IT-

LIKE this is COMPLETELY surprising album BUT IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE as its described it really is a ‘special’ album as while the title track still has their music style and sound theres still an element of summer (a very Terrifying™ summer BUT a ✨Summer✨ album nonetheless) like the b sides are SO different and COMPLETELY caught me off guard when i listened to the highlight medley YET this group of seven amazing and talented women pulled it off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its extremely obvious at this point that their steady and organic growth has grown VERY HIGH this time and (although im still very confused by how everything was released and announced BUT i digress) this different kind of method in performing the song the day before seemed to work?????????? I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE this section could literally be summed to just I LOVE DREAMCATCHER SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

IN CONCLUSION: LISTEN TO THIS ALBUM BECAUSE ITS BOMB AS F UCK

AND AS ALWAYS

[dahniwitchoflight]

Homesquared Chapter 14

lol gotta love John’s enthusiasm of being part of the movers and shakers getting shot down cuz he hasn’t actually flexed his Main Character Muscles in quite a long time

though he’s honestly taking his mid life crisis very well all things considered, its good he cares more about his kids than anything else and I like the bond he’s getting to make with Harry, it’s nice!

Now what’s a million times funnier though is the same thing happening to Vriska, she is decidedly NOT taking her midlife “but but I want to be important too!!” crisis not nearly as well as John is haha

VRISSY: I guess you Did go Viral, 8ut the news moves so fast these days. I don’t think Any8ody is like...

VRISSY: Glued to their phones Waiting for your New Hashtag Resistance content.

Yeah Vriska, you’re so 15 minutes ago :P people have moved on

what, did you think you were going to be important forever?

VRISKA: What’s the point of me even coming to this shitty fake reality if I’m not supposed to fix it?

to have a mid life crisis about not being important anymore obviously :P

VRISSY: Yeah, they told me about That stuff, but a Lot of the Shit that Happened in the Session if just not in the History Books.

VRISSY: You weren’t Really mentioned that Much.

VRISKA: Excuse me?

I Am Living For This Whole Conversation

VRISKA: I SINGLE H8ND8DLY!

VRISKA: CURED YOUR MOTHER’S FUCKING ALCH8LISM!!!!!!!!

JOHN: uh, vriska, everything okay over there?

VRISKA: EVERYTHING’S FINE, J8HN!

JOHN: okay.

JOHN: do you girls want a snack?

ASJHGFSHFHWE yeah calm down Vriska have a snack 

ahh, loving it

Turns out, History is written by the people who were left who decided to give a damn about writing it, and if those people Don’t Like you, they can just decide to not mention you, no matter who you are or what you did

All your “important” accomplishments are for naught and have become meaningless because you’re an asshole and other people didn’t like you enough to decide that you mattered in the long run

Congrats! Infamy doesn’t matter as much as Connection

Aww, cute with Annie getting hug bombed by her moms

Though, Rose definitely has a stronger bond with Annie than just being her surrogate it looks like

I understand this family situation just fine, if Annie really was just supposed to be a way for Jade to overcome her lonliness, and Rose was her only functional way and only person she could approach with this idea, and Rose responded out of care for her friend

Rose, shouldn’t really have a distinct mom attachment here, because then it implies a stronger than platonic relationship with Jade

but it could just be a great example of “this is why you don’t agree to create a child with your friend purely because said friend was crying out of lonliness out of failed relationship and wanted a child to fill that void of lonliness but who then shoves said child off the sidelines and doesn’t interact with her at all and leaves her in the hands and care of a supposed enemy and

yknow, I think I’m just gonna stop there before I remember Jake also knew about Yiffany existing so if the only ones who didn't know were John/Dave/Karkat and Kanaya then what was honestly the point of hiding her in the first place

Its not the fact that Yiffany exists that Im finding hard to believe, its just hows she treated narratively after she started existing thats stretching my rubber band into a dangerous area

“ROSE: Is it the libidinous power rush that comes from snapping your fingers at men with guns, or are you worried that you might accidentally do something heroic?

(its the latter)

“She stopped thinking about how she would be received, and more about how she could play to the people she knew would receive her favorably.

Looking up she sees Tavvy with tears in his eyes. Rage and guilt surge inside her. This situation is not her fault.”

Gotta Justify It. Gotta Justify It.

Doesn’t matter if I’m Right or Wrong, if enough other people validate me than Everything is Fine and I’m a Good Person.

JANE: So before you accuse me, take a look at yourself!

JANE: I'm the only one who has taken any interest in her upbringing or education!

JANE: Or have you forgotten who has been paying for her schooling and taking charge of her introduction into society?

JADE: i never asked you to do that!

JADE: you offered!

Okay but Jade, you DID let Jane have Annie in the first place and then presumably washed your hands of her, when supposedly the only reason Annie exists is because you wanted a daughter with whom you could have a loving relationship with

You gotta, explain you’re thinking there Jade cuz I still don’t get this bit

Though in thinking about it, I think I know why this happened

Jade grew up isolated from any person, but still loved her grandfather, despite his absence

to her, family relationships didn’t involve any sort of personal work, they were just things she had because she had them

did she just believe the same would happen for Yiffanny? that she could paradoxically still have a relationship despite long absences? Annie doesn’t seem to have any resentment here for Jade or Rose so I mean ???

“ If they were to kill Tavros, the entire world would see them commit this war crime. And weighed in the balance, Lalonde and Harley would be off the playing board. Saving your daughter certainly counted as a heroic death, and with the damage they'd done to humanity, it would also probably be just. “

She hates them both so much she’d let Tavros die for it

But also, she really does calculate everything in terms of how the Masses would view their actions as Just or Heroic

so yeah, she was absolutely about to let Tavros die, damn Jane

literally the only thing that stopped you was that Jake viewed the threat as a real threat and was about to do something stupendously Heroic to save Tavros and you decided you didn’t want Jake to die a heroic death

On the flipside, oh damn, Yeah Vriska’s going full throttle right on the nose ahead with the obvious audience expectation, that there gonna make another sburb session and get the obvious group of important 4 kids to god tier

that’s clearly the path vriska wants and expects, but hey, just imagine if what Vriska wanted to happen didn’t happen this time, imagine if the kids were just like “nah im good?” when it comes to a god tier

The narrative is making it super clear that at least 3 out 4 kids are kinda not feeling all the outdoorsy action and excitement of a game of life and death

Annie though I could hella see her down to play sburb and get a god tier, shes got that whole “isolated childhood trauma and parental issues pressure cooking her a strong will to take her life into her own hands” energy

Vriska, go see Annie, her strong willed butt is more of the action girl you’re looking for I think

At least if they do end up playing the game and getting the tiger, Annie feels like the first one to do it or the action catalyst of their session, like how Vriska was for hers, or Dirk for the alphas, or

hmm. who was is that kinda, moved things along for the Beta’s again? I think it was Rose, but Dave did a ton to move things along as well, but also their trolls like Terezi and them gave everything big nudges, I think Rose counts as the equivalent Beta in session mover and shaker though

Side note: the panels with vrissy and vriska here very feel cartoonish and light hearted, interesting choice

but it does give off Major “Play Game: Level 1″ vibes if that makes sense

What the fuck is with the Dave Soldiers

I mean, they look more like Red Johns?Jakes? with the black hair

the glasses throw me off though-

UHH DID THEY JUST FUCKING KILL HARRY ANDERSON??

HOLD ON. HOLD UP

TAVROS AND ANNIE: WITH ROSE/JADE/JAKE/JANE

VRISSY: WITH VRISKA DOWN BELOW

HARRY: WITH JOHN. ON JOHN’S COUCH.

JOHN IS ALSO STILL HERE, MEANING HARRY SHOULD BE WITH HIM.

yeah he literally just went outside for a second to see where the V’s went and then the house gets bombed, and we get three whole panels dedicated to John slowly sitting down in the wreckage

Harry Anderson just got fucking killed holy shit.

oh my god, they were leading up to it too.

We just had three seperate death flags for the other 3 kids in a row

Brain Ghost Dirk warned Jake that Annie was gonna die via electrocution unless he stepped up

Jane was gonna let Tavros die vie neck snapping (even though Kanaya really wouldn’t have)

Vriska and Vrissy discuss god tiering, and what it would mean for Vrissy, death is a subtle implication there but still there

Now to see if Jane’s ever revived Harry Anderson before in the next update I suppose :o

*edit*

They did not kill Harry Anderson, I saw pumpkins in front of the house that got exploded and didn’t see it looks different than the other bland white suburban house that John actually left, so no one died, Harry just got his implied death threat turn

Harry is at Roxy’s House, John sits in the smoldering ashes of his childhood home, languishing in the idea that Jane, the girl who might have in another reality been his loving grandmother, actually wants him and his kids dead for realsies

he never really got to sit and think about the hole where his home was that the meteor struck when he entered sburb huh? (I know his house came with him, giving the allusion all was well in the Medium, but a real meteor still struck the place that he stopped existing on OG Earth, to an outside observer, it would look like a meteor destroyed his home)

with Vriska talking about sburb to Vrissy, it is nice imagery to imagine the implications of the Kids god tiering from Earth C

and the destruction left in their wake

[babysizedfics]

Back at it again with a couple more HC prompts, which imma just dump in one, and you can pick which ones you want. Puddles with the kiddos, family baking sessions when both are regressed, Ro wanting attention whilst Logan is reading, so climbing all over his book, how their reactions to new stuffies differ, regressed versus non-regressed birthdays.... Etc... 👍

okokokokok buckle up everyone

Puddles:

this is the only one where i have to be like .. i don't think so :0 see virgil can get very nervous when it rains because he's so anxious about 'is it gonna storm? will there be thunder? will we be hit by lightning? will there be a flood? what if one of us slips and hurts our head??' that he just cannot relax enough to be able to jump around in puddles because 'WHAT IF I SLIP IM GONNA DIE' and the wetness on his skin sets off the wrong sensory feelings so jumping in muddy puddles is a no for him (as much as he loves peppa pig)

and roman is a fussy little thing, he may not care as much for his appearance when he's small but i think he will still be conscious enough to notice if he gets wet hair and muddy clothes - plus i feel like roman's mood is quite tied to the weather, on dark days he tends to fee a little more gloomy, ao again not sure about this especially if he wouldn't have his baby brother there with him

Baking:

OH BOY so roman is a great cook okay? like chef level he has honed his skills so that he can make romantic meals for handsome princes, but baking? nu uh, too technical, he ain't got time for that. Patton is the baker of the house and makes cookies and cupcakes way too often for Logan's liking (but secretly he loves them of course, he's just concerned for everybody's teeths) but both CGs will cook dinner when the boys are little

When the boys are regressed they're not allowed much in the kitchen anymore. after roman tried to make breakfast in bed for his CGs and started a very small but very real fire he has lost some kitchen rights (ficlet coming to you at some point perhaps) and is not allowed in the kitchen without at least one CG. even if he can switch so quickly between headspaces, he ends up either 1) too stubborn to come out of little space, or 2) a kittle bit clumsy when he comes out of it

but to make up for roman being upset by this slight loss of independence (he is a big kid after all) patton and he do weekly baking sessions! and there's always a theme. most recently they had animal crossing themed cupcakes, a little mermaid themed jello (not technically baking but roman wanted to but little fish gummies in the jelly), and... the next one is a secret because i might put it in chapter 7 (: in fact chapter 7 will feature the first instance of this tradition!!

virgil has pyrophobia (fear of fire) and so is never keen to be in the kitchen while there's food preparation going on (but he was allowed to help with the under the sea jello!!) so roman and pattons baking sessions are an excuse for mama and baby bonding time! the tradition didn't start until after virgil's separation anxiety from patton had eased up a little so luckily there's barely any tears

mama baby bonding time consists of but is not limited to: sitting on mama's lap, doing puzzles together, (vee trying to suck on a puzzle piece and crying when he's told not to), mama reading baby books to vee, vee touching all the textures and flaps in the baby books, snuggles

Ro wanting attention while Lo is reading:

this is 1000% canon!! later in the series logan will often be at work in his room and have the boys with him because patton is busy with something or another. they realise they really do need to keep working for thomas' sake but manage to integrate the boys' littlespaces into it. Eg. logan dangling baby plastic keys from one hand to amuse girgil while he's typing with the other

but when it's quiet time, when patton is in virgil's room because the baby is having a nap and papa wants to watch over him, when roman hasn't been little because he's been working or simply not in the mood earlier that day, when logan is just chilling, just reading a stephen hawking book in the living room, when he's literally just vibing, roman can and will launch himself into logan's lap sending the book flying and logan isn't allowed to tell him off because 'I'm little now! i want attention now!! hi mom!!!!'

New stuffies:

AHHHHHHHHH this this this is so so cute!!

roman never used to care much for soft toys before okay? before he was ever a little sure he appreciated disney action figures (he used them to block out scenes he wrote for theatre productions and screenplays and fanfiction) sure he always had a soft spot for Mrs Fluffybottom his childhood toy, but she always just sat on a shelf, he never fet the need to cuddle her or play with her

but when he realises he's little, when he starts playing with vee, when he sees how much vee cares about his soft animals, when patton and logan buy him a present to welcome him to the littlespace family and it's a golden teddy bear (soon to be named Aladdin) with big brown beady eyes and a satin crimson bow around its neck? yeah big kids love stuffies too

and now whenever roman is gifted a new toy (soft or otherwise) he essentially gets the zoomies!!! his brain is going a million miles a minute with all the game possibilities and with the excitement of NEW PRESENT!!! and with the happiness that his caregivers thought about him and he's been a good enough boy to deserve gifts?? yeah he's so so so excited he canNOT stand still he runs around the house for a whole hour flinging his new toy around (yeah he's a bit rough with them and there's been more than one torn limp or loose eye but he doesn't care it just shows how much they're loved!)

Now virgil: this boy is very very very emotionally attached to his stuffies. when he was a "dark side" he couldn't have much soft stuff because it just went against everything the household stood for and he couldn't risk the others finding out about how not-scary he really was, but he allowed himself a single stuffed rabbit that was easy to hide and that he loved with all of his being. it was his security blanket and his one item that could offer him comfort in a oanic attack and his only posession that he felt was true to him and not true to the scary facade he put up to scare thomas and the "light sides" into listening to him

without spoiling anything, that bunny was left in that house when he moved to the "light sides"

and in his new home virgil started collecting soft toys whenever he needed comfort. everytime he felt unwanted, every time he had an anxiety attack, everytime there was a thunderstorm predicted for the next week he would get himself a new soft toy because that was the only way he knew to comfort himself. needless to say he's got a pretty big collection now. you might think he became desensitized to new toys because of how many times he had gotten himself a new one, and you might be partly right.

that is until for the first time ever he is given a stuffie by someone else... when logan buys him a soft toy in apology for accidentally revealing his regression to everyone ((yes i am writing this fic!))

it wasn't really logan's fault, virgil should have been more aware he should have been more careful he should have hidden it all better but the logical side was guilt-ridden nonetheless. virgil hadn't expected much to be honest, the sincere apology was enough for him

but when logan blushed and shyly opened a box and handed him a black cat stuffie? virgil had to fight very very hard not to outright sob on the spot. he simply took it, thanked logan shakily, and prayed that logan didn't point out the fact that tears were falling onto the fluff of his new stuffed friend Jiji

now whenever he gets a new toy it's different than before - it's not because he's upset and needs comfort, it happens less often now but it's more special, it could be for a holiday or as a way of saying he's been very sweet or just because patton simply couldn't resist this one because look at its cute lil eyes! but each and everytime he knows when he is handed a new toy by one of his family members it really means 'i love you'

and he buries his face in its softness - it used to be to hide his tears, but now he just can't help but squeeze it tight and close and let the feeling of love wash over him

Birthdays:

yknow that episode of steven universe where steven wears a regal cape and a golden crown? yeah that's roman whether he's little or not

seriously this kid is very much the 'it's my birthweek!' type

lots of singing, lots of 'but i'm the birthday boy!!' to try to get thtings he really shouldn't be getting (like a third cookie) (and yes patton caves every single time) (patton is eventually banned from making decisions on romans behalf during his "birthweek")

there's not much difference at all between little romans birthday and big romans birthday, he's just an excitable boy whether he's a kiddo or not - this may or may not make the caregivers question whether maybe he actually was a little before virgil's regression was revealed

(irrelevant but patton definitely makes the pun 'you're a little? a little what? finish your sentences silly billy!')

virgil hates his birthday. hates it.

too much attention, too many things that could go wrong, too much pressure on it being a good day. what if his anxiety is bad that day? what if he doesn't want everyone watching him open presents? what if he's genuinely terrified that people think walking towards him with a big grin, singing at him, and carrying a cakeful of literal fire is a somehow a fun activity??

when he first moved into the house he made it very clear that he does not have a birthday so don't even try to throw him a party

naturally roman and patton were devastated, but after a failed attempt at getting virgil to enjoy his birthday they obeyed logan's request that they not try to push the idea on virgil any further

but the first birthday after they become a little family, it's a bit different

they don't push it, not at first, but virgil does wake up to patton already in his room and cooing at him adoringly , immediately sending him into his regressed headspace

then he's given a new soft toy. that wasn't so bad

then roman let him choose what disney film they watched. that wasnt bad either

then logan cuddled him for an hour and they might have fallen asleep together not noticing the smell of vanilla coming from the kitchen

then there was a new paci, a new rattle, another new soft toy, and cake cut up into tiny squares so he could nibble on it with his fingers

there was no loud singing no big surprises no bright lights or fire or anything else that he hated about birthdays

there was only love and toys and comfort. so virgil really didn't mind birthdays much after that

[theyrejustbehindtheveil]

meet-cutes aren't just for the movies, my lady

Now presenting, a (slightly belated) @mlsecretsanta gift for @celestialtitania. Hope you enjoy it!!

[Read on AO3]

...

The first time Adrien ever meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng, he is 17 years old, and tagging along behind his father as the man inspects garments that will become part of the next season’s collection, and produces forceful and prolific critique at each and every item and Adrien is so, so bored.

And so, when he notices a quiet shadow hovering on the outskirts of the discussion, arms full of folded fabric and a look of intense focus as she listens in on the conversations happening in front of her. She’s about his own age and so Adrien slides on over in the hopes that he could at least talk to someone.

“Hello,” is as far as he gets with that plan, because as soon as he opens his mouth she squeaks and scatters all the fabric in her arms all over the floor. The conversation near them stills and eyes turn to the pair as the girl bends to try and pick up everything she’s dropped.

“Marinette!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

Adrien’s father turns away from the mess on the floor. “Let’s move on, and leave your intern here to clean up the mess she made,” he says.

Adrien looks at his father at this. ”I’ll stay and help her, pére,” he says. His father gives him a cursory nod and leaves the room, which empties behind him.

“Hey.” he says, as he bends down to help the girl pick up fabric. “Sorry for startling you earlier.”

“Oh um, uh, not–no problem.”

He chuckles. “My name’s Adrien.”

She pauses in folding fabric. “Mari–Marinette,” she says, ducking her head away from his grin.

A moment of silence stretches between them, only punctuated by the sound of shifting fabric.

“So you’re one of my father’s interns?” He winces at the awkward question almost as soon as it’s blurted out.

“Oh! Um. Mr Agreste is my boss. I mean, he’s not my actual boss, he’s really my boss’s boss. He is still my boss though, technically, because it’s his company. That he is the boss of. I mean of course you know that, he’s your father. Because you’re Adrien, his son.” She’s rambling at him, still folding fabric and stacking it neatly, blushing furiously all the while. It’s adorable.

“So you like fashion?” he asks. She brightens at the question.

“Yeah! I really like fashion and design, it’s what I want to do after I leave lycée. I mean, I don’t know if haute couture is really for me. N–not that I’m not grateful for this internship. Because I am! I’m learning a lot! But like I really love street fashion, and it just feels a lot less…”

“Pretentious?”

She laughs. “Yeah. A little.”

“That makes sense.”

She blinks. “It does?”

“Yeah. I don’t like it much either, to be honest.”

She lifts her head up from where she is gathering up the last pieces of fabric that still remain on the floor. “You know you can do whatever you want after high school, not just what your parents do, right? Mine are bakers and I like helping them out but it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life. And that’s okay, and they support me in that because they want me to be happy, yknow? You’re allowed to be your own person.”

That makes him pause. “Huh.”

She grins at him. “Yep. Pass me that pile?”

He does, standing, to carefully hand over the stack of folded fabric that he’s slowly been accumulating. “Here,” he says, as he moves to hand it to her, and instead, finds himself sprawled on the floor, fabric once more scattered everywhere, including draped over his head. He lets out a groan, and lifts one hand to move the folds of fabric away from his face so he can see. Marinette starts unabashedly giggling at him from across the room.  “Guess that looked pretty stupid of me?”

“Just a bit,” she says, between giggles, and then, as he makes a move to try and get to his feet, she stands and moves towards him. “Need a hand?” she asks, reaching her hand out to him.

“Please,” he says, taking her outstretched hand, which she grasps firmly and hauls him to his feet with surprising strength. He dusts himself off with a shrug, and she laughs as he tries to brush his hair back into place.

“Here, let me,” she says, reaching for his head. He bends down a little so that she can reach, and she gently brushes fingers through his hair, neatening the errant locks. Her blue eyes are fixed intently on the top of his head, and it almost feels as though time holds its breath along with him as he watches her face as she fixes his hair.

He comes back to himself when she steps back from him, her hands slipping from his hair. He doesn’t move for a moment, still looking at her, and she coughs awkwardly, and then bends to pick up the dropped fabric at her feet. “Help me out here,” she says, and he jolts into movement, rushing over to help her out. Together, they gather and fold the last few dropped pieces of fabric.

The next several minutes are spent carefully collecting the last of the mess, which Adrien spends a good portion of just watching Marinette, her deft fingers that handle all the fabric so carefully and elegantly, and her dark hair, tied back with a few errant strands tucked behind her ear.

Finally, all the mess is folded and stacked into a neat and manageable pile, that Marinette gathers up into her arms. “Thank you,” she says, stepping towards the door, “for staying and helping me tidy.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, moving eagerly to hold the door open for her. “Least I could do, since it was my fault for startling you into dropping it all.”

She moves out of the door ahead of him, pile of fabric almost obscuring her line of sight. He follows close behind her, and grins at her when she turns to face him. “I’m glad I met you, Marinette,” he says, and his grin grows wider at the sight of the faint blush that rises on her cheeks.

“Me too,” she replies, tentatively returning his grin with a smaller one of her own.

Before he can say anything else, however, his father strides out of the next room. “Adrien. Time to go.”

Marinette jumps in surprise at the sound of his father’s voice, even if she manages to keep ahold of her burden this time around. “I–I gotta–I have– I need to go. I need to put these away now. Goodbye, Adrien, Mr Agreste.” she stammers out, and then bolts away before he can stop her, or call out to her, or do anything that might give him a sure way of finding her again.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The second time Adrien gets to meet Marinette Dupain-Cheng is many years after the first time. He never does get to run into her again while she is still an intern, much to his disappointment, and he loses track of her after that.

After a year away from Paris, Adrien has come back to spend Christmas at home, to see his father and, apparently, to get himself roped into attending a Christmas Eve party by Chloé, even if they’ve barely talked to each other in months.

And so, here he finds himself, walking into a party that is full of some of the best and brightest in the fashion industry. The bright lights and the slightly too small suit he has on makes the atmosphere feel stifling, and the thought of walking back into something that so viscerally reminds him of some of the most hated parts of his childhood is almost enough to make him turn around and go back home. But–

“Adrien!!” he hears a voice call. He turns, and sees Chloé, striding towards him in a bright green gown that glitters under the lights of the room. Despite himself, he can feel some of the tension leave him at the sight of a welcoming face. “You came!”

He grins. “Hello to you too, Chloé, “ he returns, right before she pulls him into a hug. “Ooft.” He’d forgotten how tactile she is, and how tight her hugs were, as though she wants to hold her friends as close as she possibly could.

“I’ve missed you,” she mutters, from where her face is not quite buried in his shoulder.

“Me too. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Same here.”

That shocks him, just a little. Chloé, despite how much she’s apparently grown out of the spoiled brat she once was, is still not the sort to apologise, even obliquely. Adrien clears his throat to try and dispel some of the awkwardness he feels. Chloé, brash and self-confident as ever, doesn’t acknowledge it beyond a slightly stiff and awkward shake of her head.

He holds out his arm, “Well then, Chloé, shall we?”

She hooks her elbow through his, then grins. “Cmon, Adrien, you gotta meet my friend Mari. She’s like, my new favourite fashion designer, and she’s amazing . You’re going to love her. She made my dress for tonight, and she’s so cool. Like really Adrien, you gotta meet her, and I know she wants to meet you. I’ve told her so much about you.”

Chloé keeps up a steady stream of chatter as she drags him over to where a small knot of people are clustered around a girl in a dark blue dress. She seems… different, somehow, Adrien muses. Still as brash and self-confident as he remembers, but happier, somehow. Kinder, too.

“Mari!” Chloé calls, as they get close to the group of people she’s been making a beeline for. The woman in the dark blue dress turns, and her polite smile morphs into something wider and more genuinely delighted.

“Chloé!” she calls happily, and extracts herself neatly from the group she’s been talking to, including, Adrien realises, one of his father’s most serious competitors in the fashion industry. The woman walks up to them, her dress glittering under the lights as she moves to enfold Chloé in a hug. “I wondered where you’d run off to so quickly,” she says to Chloé, as she draws back from the hug to kiss both her cheeks, and then finally turns sharp eyes on Adrien, who fidgets under her direct gaze. “Hello.”

“Mari, this is Adrien. He’s the best friend I keep telling you about.” She holds out her hand to shake, and Adrien grasps it firmly. She’s shorter than either him or Chloé, and she has black hair and startlingly blue eyes, and something about her is weirdly familiar, though he can’t quite work out why.

“Adrien, this is Marinette. She and I went to lycée together, but we didn’t become friends until I ran into her again at one of Daddy’s parties a few months ago.” He blinks at her name as she releases his hand from her firm grasp, which vaguely reminds him of, well, something that he can’t quite place.

“Nice to meet you, Marinette.”

“Same here. Chloé talks about you a lot. She said you were overseas for this year?”

Yes. I spent this year on exchange at a university in England.”

“And how was that?”

“Good. The language took some getting used to, but I liked it.”

“What were you studying?”

“Physics. I’m working on my Masters at the moment.”

“Oh that’s awesome. I studied design, but I stayed in Paris to study and then work.”

“Yeah, Chloé mentioned you were a designer. She said you made her dress. It’s gorgeous, you’re really talented.”

Marinette’s face lights up at the compliment. “Thank you! I wanted to make her something that wasn’t her favourite yellow, just for the challenge of it. And I wanted to stick to a more traditional silhouette, because Chloé has the personality to pull off something that dramatic, you know? And...”

She continues to talk excitedly about Chloé’s dress, gesturing passionately with her hands as Adrien listens to her chatter, and Chloé nods along gracefully. And then, Marinette,  while Chloé is in the middle of telling a story about some misadventure the pair of them had gotten up to while trying to get the right fabric to make this dress, starts giggling, and Adrien finally places that frustrating deja vu that Marinette has been prompting in him since Chloé had introduced them.

“You’re Marinette!” he interrupts. Chloé’s story rambles to a clumsy stop as she and Mari– Marinette turn to stare at him with matching bemused expressions.

“Yes? That’s my name?”

“No! You’re Marinette! You interned at my father’s company in highschool and I frightened you into dropping all that fabric once!”

Marinette giggles, and Adrien is struck with the sudden realisation that he’d quite like to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life. “I can’t believe it took you so long to make the connection!”

“You look different,” he mumbles, “and, besides, Chloé called you Mari.” He gestures to Chloé, who rolls her eyes and mutters something about the trials of having such oblivious friends.

“Less of a clutz than you remember?”

“A bit. It’s a good different, though! Really! And I tripped too, remember?” A slight pause. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember you right away, really.”

Marinette laughs. “I forgive you. Make it up to me by sticking around for the rest of the night and impressing all these fancy fashion people with your good looks and charm.”

“Of course, my lady,” he says. Chloé huffs from beside them, and he glances over to her in time to catch her rolling her eyes.

“I’m going to go find Sabrina,” she says. “She just texted me to tell me she just got here.”

“Okay.”

“See you around, Chloé,” Marinette grins. “Come find me later so we can make fun of all the stuck up industry execs.”

“You know it, Mari,” she says, and walks off into the crowd in a swirl of fabric.

“Cmon, I really do need to talk to people tonight.”

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“No! I want to, I promise.”

“Awesome.” Marinette’s grin is blinding, and when she hooks her arm through his, Adrien feels his heart miss a beat. “Let’s do this then.”

…

Adrien spends the rest of the night at Marinette’s side as she makes her way around the room, making polite conversation and impressing almost all the people she talks to. Adrien is a tiny bit in awe of how easily she manages to negotiate conversations with everyone. She looks to be in her element right at this very moment, and she shines .

After a few hours of this though, they are both over talking to people and Marinette leads them over to an emptier patch of the room. She leans back against the wall as they watch Chloé whirl around the centre of the room, tipping her head back in a laugh.

“She’s happier than she used to be,” Adrien observes.

“Yeah. She is,” a soft smile graces Marinette’s face, for just a moment. “I’m really proud of her.”

“Me too. I’m glad for her.” Adrien looks over to Marinette. “Do you want to head outside?”

“Yes please,” she answers.

“Come on, then,” he says, taking her arm to walk with her to a set of doors that lead out onto a balcony. The night air is cool, and Marinette’s dress shimmers gently under the street lights. As she leans on the railing of the balcony to look out at the city, he feels a sharp drop of cold on his nose, and tears his eyes away from her to look up at the sky. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Marinette do the same, her eyes closed and her face upturned to catch the snowfall.

It’s snowing, and he stares up at the sky in awe before a gentle hand on his arm drags his eyes away and back down to Marinette, who has snow caught in her dark hair and in her eyelashes. A long moment stretches between them as he stares at her, enthralled by her face and the tiny freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks, and the way her lips curve up into a shy smile. It’s broken by the distant tolling of a clock striking midnight, and an enthusiastic buzzing that emanates from Marinette’s dress. She steps back as she reaches into a previously hidden pocket at her hip and pulls out her phone, which is lighting up with a succession of messages. Adrien misses her closeness almost immediately, as the sharp dampness of the still falling snow makes itself known to him.

“Sorry, give me a minute, my friends are all messaging the group chat now that it’s actually become Christmas Day,” she says as her fingers fly across the screen of her phone. She leans on her forearms against the railing as she texts, her phone held out over the open air. Adrien finds himself enthralled by the mischievous grin on her face, and the way her face lights up at the onscreen antics of her friends. Chloé was right, she’s amazing. He would would keep coming to every fashion industry event if it means he would get to see her, and talk to her, and make her smile.

oh

oh wow

He opens his mouth to say– something, to make her laugh or to ask her if they could go back inside – but, still reeling from the realisation of how much he likes her and the warm feeling spreading through his chest, what comes out of his mouth is a whispered “You’re beautiful.”

whoops

Marinette whirls around, thankfully without dropping her phone off the balcony, and stares at him with her mouth hanging open and a blush spreading over her cheeks. “Wh-what?!”

He takes a deep breath and shifts slightly towards her .“You’re beautiful, Marinette.” Another deep breath, to gather his courage. “Can I kiss you?” he blurts out, breathless and nervous, and hopeful.

Marinette stands in front of him for a long moment, and he can feel that little sliver of hope start to wilt in his chest before she pulls in a deep breath of her own and steps towards him, so close that he can feel her exhale gently on his skin as she fits her hands to his face. “Yes please,” she whispers reverently, before rising up and fitting her lips to his.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

THE NEXT DAY: ADRIEN'S PHONE

Chlo: Hey nerd I gave Mari your number. She thinks you’re cute. If you break her heart i will show you the knife skills her parents taught me

...

Unknown Number: Hi Adrien I hope you don’t mind but I got your number off Chloé. I had a really great time last night, thank you.

Unknown Number: also I wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a date sometime.

[3 seconds later]

ADRIEN: YES PLEASE

[rosebelladonna]

That AU where they were partners... headcanons pls?

After Ruby tells her how she wants to be a hero and make the world a better place, Blake goes off the cliff planning on finding her.

Blake finds her easily and steps out in front of her while she's rushing about looking for Yang

Ruby is really quiet and shy while they look for the 'relics' and Blake is like "??? You're allowed to like. Talk yknow" and Ruby kinda blushes and goes "I...don't know how to hold a conversation with you..." and immediately Blake is like "Yes This Was A Perfect Plan" bc. Ruby is So Cute

When Ruby says they should hitch a ride on a Nevermore, Blake is just like "no you're absolutely right. lets go" bc truly? Blake is canonically always down for Ruby's schemes (except for at the beginning of v2 but she turned around p quick when the food fight happened)

just. so much slow blinking. and ruby picks up on that fast and does it back.

blake, soft smile, slow blink:

ruby: weiss,,,,,blake keeps blinking at me???

weiss: blink back, cats do it to show affection

ruby, blinking back:

blake: O///////O *runs away*

volume 2 is a lot of ruby being upset and jealous ab sun tbh. (just bc i feel like ruby is more predisposed to jealousy even if she doesnt realize the extent of her feelings)

when blake is overworking herself and doesn't want to go to the dance, ruby asks yang for advice on how to convince blake to go and yang is like "just tell her how much youd like to see her there!"

anyway where im going with that is ruby taking blake flowers and stammering her way through asking blake to the dance

blake is blushing and furious and asks if ruby is making fun of her or if sun set her up to do this and ruby is just like "no!!!!! i really want you to come to the dance and i especially want you to come with me!!!!" and basically they get kicked out of the library for yelling

blake rests up and meets ruby outside the dance and yang cheers and tells them how pretty they look

ruby clings to blake because she cant walk in heels and blake is just like "WHY AM I SO FLUSTERED BY THIS SHE'S JUST MY PARTNER. MY TEAM LEADER. WHY AM I BLUSHING!!!"

sun tries to cut in and ruby shoots him the nastiest glare. she doesnt know why either but SHE asked blake to the dance, dammit!

pyrrha and yang steal her away to dance with them in the end though and blake does dance with sun! she has fun! but she kinda misses how it felt to lead ruby in their awkward stilted dance (bc not being able to walk in heels is bad enough. trying to dance in them? eugh. hell.)

then weiss and yang both dance with blake and ruby steps out for a breath and so the dance arc goes about like it did in canon (with blake being Very Stressed when ruby comes back after disappearing for the last half of the dance and its much later than it should be)

i feel like the mountain glenn arc goes similarly, but with ruby actually listening to the rest of her team's conversation by the fire and her being the one to comment "youre not one to back down from a challenge, blake" and blake looks at her through the glow of the fire and she looks so sweet and sincere it nearly breaks her heart. ruby tells them to get some rest and that she'll wake the next person at shift change

and then yknow she gets caught by torchwick and goons

uhhh v3 headcanons include

ladybug going into the doubles match

ruby being the one framed (for injuring neo instead of mercury - em casts an illusion so that neo can still be the getaway driver)

blake being horrified bc like. ruby's emblem, dyed hair, speed, black + red aesthetic, red weapon and now her SWEARING this was an accident? its just too much.

but ruby's eyes are honest and so blake chooses to believe her and even does a little slow blink at her while yang wipes at ruby's face and promises to bring her back something sweet from the fairgrounds

yang + merc showdown happens in the tunnels to get to the other side of the arena after yang talks to velvet and realizes what the hell is going on during the penny pyrrha fight when she spots emerald

yang firing off shots at the nevermore in front of pyrrha and weiss rushing in with penny's sword to scream "get away from her!" (global warming? on MY ladybug blog? its more likely than u think)

blake is already calling her locker and trying to figure out how to get back to her partner

the blake adam fight happens in front of the tower and happens bc im shifting the timeline around to suit my needs

basically in my au here,,,,,,,,,pyrrha is taken to get the maiden powers earlier in the fall and cinder makes adam stand guard while she goes to get the wyvern

which means jaune calls the girls and wby goes to get pyrrha and then run into adam. blake even though she's terrified and not ready, tells them she'll hold him off. so then weiss and yang go off up the tower. (yang still loses her arm, cinder cuts it off instead)

the reason i changed it up like this? ruby stumbles on blake being stabbed and activates her eyes. the blast is so big it still takes out the wyvern and cinder. unfortunately it knocks ruby out but similarly to canon, blake leaves a copy of them and runs. adam flees when he realizes he has nothing else to do there (he does still promise to destroy everything blake loves starting with ruby but big blinding flash of light means he didnt get to)

qrow shows up and helps weiss bring pyrrha and yang (who are both injured and unconscious) down from the tower

sun sits by yang's bed until she wakes up and then tells her that blake left -- but he's going after her and asks her to tell ruby

pyrrha stays at the rose-xiao long house while recovering, weiss is taken away by jacques, blake runs, ruby leaves with jnr on their big journey and just. hopes she'll see everyone again

also when they get to the battle of haven, blake very quietly says "ruby?" and yang has to snap ruby out of her reverie. they fight alongside one another and when all is said and done she stretches her arms out to blake for a hug while she sits on the floor and blake rushes to her

(yang brought pyrrha along so jnpr has a big reunion and then both teams sink into a big group hug)

ruby tells blake all about her adventures with jnr and blake tells her about taking back the white fang (and about adam)

theres even more feeling behind ruby blasting the apathy when theyre about to get blake (and she gets a little embarassed when she's talking with maria and remembers that silver eyes are fuelled by love bc she activated them to save blake twice now)

adam v ladybug - ruby races through the woods and just comes over the cliff in rose petal form and slams crescent rose into his face

blake tells ruby how adam's semblance is similar to yang's but how he's super fast and ruby is just like "i can guarantee im faster" (canonically ruby's semblance is at least one part teleportation)

basically she uses a move like qrow did with tyrian and catch adam's sword in crescent rose. she then smashes her head into his face and he stumbles back and then blake jumps back up and kicks him in the back and he stumbles over the broken piece of gambol shroud and yeah they stab him.

they get back to find the leviathan and then it plays out basically how it did in the finale (but yknow with ruby and blake sitting together and yang gives ruby The Look™)

blake is freaking out bc she has no way to help and now the leviathan is staring ruby down

most of ruby's memories focus in on blake as something to activate her eyes and some of the bad memories is adam standing over blake at the fall and him throwing her off the side of the bridge

when ruby gets back into the airship blake is so relieved she kisses her and ruby is just like "aaaaAAAAAAAAAAA"

also ruby helps blake figure out what she wants to do to fix gambol shroud and plans it out with her so that when they get to a weaponsmith, all the plans are there

blake kisses ruby again after her haircut and ruby cant stop running her hands through it

[crystallinerage]

Road Trip to Confession City

I wrote  something, wow. Its just a classic meteorstuck davekat fic. Anyway I’m not fantastic at writing so feedback is appreciated.(Alt title: Dave Stole Fizzy Lifting Drinks)

The air on the meteor is calm, sedated almost. You and Karkat are just kind of chilling in Can Town, sitting just a little closer than would be considered normal back on Earth, you notice. You tell yourself not to worry about it, Earth's dead, and so are all the bullshit social rules that came with it. So who cares about what would have been okay on Earth, right? But, it doesn't stop the dusting of pink that creeps up your neck and onto your ears from just the thought of being so close.

Shit, come to think of it your hands are almost touching. So close that you could just reach over a little and close the space between you. You don't though. It would be too weird.

Karkat's occupied, scribbling doors and windows onto some cans to make buildings, and rambling about some movie the two of you watched a few nights ago. You're responding, but you have no idea what's coming out of your mouth. You must have said something funny though, because Karkat turns to you and laughs in a way that when you had gotten to the meteor you didn't think he was capable of. It's just so... soft and real.

It slowly dawns on you that you have to do something. Anything, just to get something out to tell him. You don't know if you're ready for this. Or if he is either. Or what you're going to even do. But before you can second guess yourself more, you sit up suddenly. It gets you a questioning look from Karkat. The kind where his thick brows are furrowed together, but one of them is peaked up a bit. Confused, sarcastic, and sort of endearing. Jesus Christ you need to get your shit together.

You lean back on your arm a bit, desperately trying to seem casual, "So uh... you wanna like, go somewhere?"

Fantastic. So well executed. The kind of intelligence and way with words that will get you three straight As on your next English papers. Aren't you just the pinnacle of speech.

Karkat's brows crease further. "Go where? And why, what's wrong with Can Town?"

"I... I'll explain when we get there ok?"

"that sounds extremely suspicious but ok, I guess out of everyone on the meteor you’re the least likely to be the one that does me in for good."

Karkat starts to stand up, raising an eyebrow in your direction. You walk towards the exit and wait as he catches up to you.

You walk in silence for a solid three minutes before either of you says anything. You start to wonder whether this was a good idea. Your stupid god tier pajamas don't have any pockets, so you resort to playing with the edge of your cape. You sneak a look over at Karkat from behind your shades and oh god he's looking at you. It's that look with just the slightest bit of confusion and concern. It makes your hands start to shake. Shit, you're staring now. You snap your gaze forward, hoping he couldn't see your eyes from behind your glasses.

He's still looking at you as he asks, "Hey, um, are you like good? You haven’t said anything for the past three minutes and while I’m usually all for you finally shutting the fuck up I still have no clue where you’re taking me and you’re being really goddamn weird about it."

You shrug and try to laugh it off, "nah dude everything is all good, 100%, The goodest it’s ever been and get this it’s about to be even better because would you look at that we’re here."

You panic a bit as you trail off and end up pulling Karkat into the nearest empty room with you.

Shit.

This was a really bad idea.

The room you’re standing in is almost identical to every other room on the meteor. Same grey walls, tiled floor, and fluorescent lights that strain your eyes even with your shades on. You better be able to bs your way out of this one fast.

You flex your fingers, letting go of the cape you forgot you practically had a death grip on. You get another look at Karkat. Oh no. He’s got that look on his face. The one that’s pretty much his standard brand of mildly-and-constantly angry, but with the slightest bit of anticipation in his eyes. The kind of look you’re only able to recognize because you spend so much time with him. On anyone else it’s a look that’s off putting, but with him it’s vaguely pleasant. It’s in the way he looks just slightly up at you, waiting for you to speak, and inevitably ramble your way into oblivion. Speaking of which, you’re doing it again, staring, that is.

You figure at this point Karkat has had enough of standing in silence having you stare him down, because he folds his arms across his chest, sighs, and says, “Alright, so now I KNOW something is up, you dragged me all the way out here, said next to nothing the entire time we were walking, and now we’re in a room that’s completely indistinguishable from any other room on this god forsaken rock and not to mention completely fucking empty. You still haven’t exactly explained what the hell were doing here, so tell me Strider, What. Is. The Deal?”

You let out a long breath, “Yeah ok I guess keeping you in the dark this whole time may have been a bad idea,”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. You probably deserve that.

“But just hear me out okay?”

“Alright Strider, I’m listening. What could be so incredibly important that you had to drag me out into middle-of-nowhere, Meteor City? Am I about to be graced with the most beautiful and moving rap about puppet ass and this room had the best acoustics? Is that it Dave?”

He’s leaning towards you as he says that. He’s close enough that you can see the way his black mess of hair curls around from behind his ears. You know he was just doing it to be sarcastic and condescending but shit if it doesn’t make your heart rate spike just a little. Nothing life threatening, no heart attacks today, but woah.

You laugh and it comes out a little shaky.

“Okay, okay uh, so this is probably gonna sound really weird but just don’t worry about it. I’m gonna say something that I didn’t want to say while we were in Can Town because there’s so many good memories and shit and us being really good friends-like super fucking good friends-and like hell I want to ruin that for myself,shit Can Town is like the one place I can stand to be for more than like two hours, and I also feel like I’d be kinda ruining the sanctity of it or some shit I don’t know -“

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

You sigh, God why is this so difficult? It’s not that hard Strider, just get those words out of your dumb shit mouth and hop on the feelings train to confession town. Easy peasy lemon squeezy and all that shit.

“Spit it out Dave.”

Of course this would be the one time you find it hard to speak, of course.

“Alright... alright I-I just, I like you ok, like... a lot. And it took me a while to actually realize it because I was just pulling layer and layer of repression over it and I didn’t want to let Rose know about it because I just know she’d go total therapist mode on my sorry ass so I was just kinda silently freaking out for a while and just kept pushing the thought further and further back in my head. As if I just ignored it long enough it’d go away completely. But then you’d do something that’s just completely fucking mundane and stupid and for some bullshit reason it’d like set something off in my head and I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it for literal days on end. And it’s been going on long enough where I kind of had to come to terms with it but as it fucking turns out that doesn’t help! It does exactly jack shit as a matter of fact! It just keeps piling up and the littlest things make my heart speed up and I know I’m kind of throwing a load of shit at you all at once and I basically already know you’re going reject me so hard I’m thrown from this plane of existence but if there’s any chance just... just please tell me you feel the same.”

Oh boy. You realize that that was maybe a lot at once. You cringe inwardly on yourself as you dare another look at Karkat.

He’s… stunned? You assume that would be an appropriate reaction. You have no idea wether it’s good or bad though and it’s eating at you. He looks at his hands, which are halfway inside his sweater sleeves, and back up at you again. There’s something in his eyes that makes you want to cry and scream out of impatience and the smallest, most microscopic bit of hope. You silently will him to say something. Anything really.

He meets your gaze even with your shades on. It’s terrifying, but it’s sincere and filled with earnest. You can see the small patches of red creeping across his face and the hint of a smile on his lips.

“I- oh... oh my god I- holy shit I woah I thought for sure that there was absolutely no way and that came so far out of left field i just woah”

The smile on his face widens, far enough for you to see his sharp teeth. It’s weirdly adorable.

He shakes his head, making his curls bounce out of his face, “I mean Jesus... yeah ok I mean I guess I’ll just cut to the fucking chase here, I like you too, like a whole lot.”

You could swear your feet have lifted off the ground at this point. You can feel how hot your face is and you’re sure you’ve flushed all the way up to your eyebrows. Your heart is moving at a pace you didn’t think was humanly possible. Is this really happening?

“Wait-you’re serious? Like 100% all jokes aside no funny business serious?”

Karkat’s grin threatens to split his face in half.

“yeah... I uh I’m serious.”

“You really like me, you’re sure?”

“yeah, yeah I really really do.”

Holy shit. This is happening. You’re at least an inch off the ground now, you’re sure of it.

Karkat’s fidgeting with his sleeves. You can see his hands shake a little. He looks up at you suddenly, practically bright red (but it’s not like you look much better).

“I- uh can… Can I yknow? Can I kiss you?”

You’re lifted another inch.

“Oh! Shit! I mean yes! Of course, fuck yes you can! God… fuck!”

He takes the two steps towards you that close the space. He hesitates for a second, but puts his hands up and grabs onto the hood of your cape. Oh shit you’re still floating. Embarrassed, you slowly lower your feet back onto the ground. Karkat laughs and, oh god, he leans in so that your foreheads are touching.

“You’re an idiot.”

What remained of the space between you is now gone. His lips are on yours and it’s so… soft. Not like you would expect from the guy that screamed at you for so long he could barely breathe once, but it’s perfect. It’s long and slow and everything you didn’t even know you wanted out of a first kiss. Before you realize what you’re doing you’re pushing your hands up through his hair. It curls around your fingers as you notice that Karkat has pulled you even closer, his arms around your neck.

You break for a second, less than inches away from each other.

“Sorry,” you breathe.

He smiles, “ For what?”

“For taking so long.”

And then you kiss him again.

[oflgtfol]

bc i cant stop thinking abt that dream.. im gonna elaborate on it because it was so detailed and so long and felt so real

so it started off with me in a small library but like, it was so cramped and the lights were off. bookshelves were everywhere, and most were like only waist high? strange adults were everywhere, standing against the walls/shelves or sitting in the aisles. all had their hands cuffed behind their backs or in front of them and they all had like, tape or something over their mouths. but there were some adults among them in bullet proof vests and with guns in their hands. i dont know the situation like i dont even think i acknowledged it in the dream but from context clues im p sure it was like a hostage situation

so im in there sneaking around, in the back of my mind i just Know that my parents and my brother are also in the room also sneaking thru the aisles. all the hostage adults are staring at me like, acknowledging that they know im here to help rescue them. so after a few close calls around corners almost getting caught by the gunmen i get to a somewhat open area, meanig that its still cramped but its a small square between bookshelves with a table and 2 chairs. theres a TON of hostages squeezed into this area. i knew that that was the objective, that i had to get there

so me and my family burst forward and the gunmen spot us, but the hostages all help us overwhelm the guys. the gunmen are shooting blindly into the crowd, aiming mostly for me and my family, and SOMEHOW everybody else dodges it but me. literally it went in slow motion and i saw it like in third person, watching it come towards me and i was like “watch it hit me lmao. oh fuck its actually gonna hit me”

so i get shot in my stomach during all this and the pain just, it wasnt all that bad really? like it felt like uhm. getting hit with a water balloon actually (i was just in a water fight yesterday and now upon realizing this its like.... did that contribute to this dream....) so then its all clear like the bad guys are defeated, it gets kinda blurry at this point but i know in some disembodied way that i told my parents after everything wrapped up when they were asking if everyone was okay that i was hit, and they like, didnt care. i was like “HEY i got SHOT in the stomach!” and theyre like k and it took them foreverrrrrrr to get me medical attention. and i wasnt even.. bleeding outwardly? so i was so worried about internal bleeding because like HEY i have a bullet in me so i must be bleeding somewhere like,,, come on lmao

the next like visual thing i remember is in the hospital. its been a while since like, i woke up so this is kinda blurry too but i remember being put into a wheelchair by some nurses.. ive been in a wheelchair only once and that was in 2nd grade but this one i was allowed to use like, on my own, so it threw me off? and at this point i was like, fuck, i’ve been shot before when i was little. i’ve done this before. i had to go into surgery and everything. but it was all vague flashes i could barely remember it but it felt a lot like when i remember the major things from my childhood that i just COMPLETELY forgot about for so long, like speech therapy? like i had gotten injured from a gun when i was less than ten years old and i just, forgot about that? i was like HOW did i forget about this

so i was already in the hospital at this point but for the one room, i wheeled up to the entrance and it felt kinda like the 11th/12th grade cafeteria entrance that i use in school?? a small double door, blank walls, kinda dark, empty, and there was a nurse checking us in. at this point i was surrounded by all my classmates from my ap lang class, or maybe not ap lang in particular idk since like all the ap kids are mostly grouped together despite class? idk man. but my classmates were literally all fine idk why they were there? they werent even there for checkups or anything (disregarding the fact that you dont get a check up at a hospital you get that at a normal doctors office..) so i was there in my literal wheelchair and the nurse was like “wait your turn!!” she was really snooty it was annoying i was like, word for word, “uhm HELLO i have a GSW in my abdomen!!!!!!” and my one classmate finally spoke up as he was being checked in he was like “uh hey brot is here and like, got shot, so i think she should go first lmao?” so the nurse finally smiled at me and admitted me in

and it led to this small cramped room where they scanned your entire body for every single thing wrong with it adn they displayed it on a board where everyone could see, including my classmates, and i was like ohh my god. oh my god. the nurses were like “hm you could eat better but overall you’re in good health!” and i was like DUDE thats embarrassing i dont want everybody to see all my minute issues and LIKE I AM LITERALLY INJURED I HAVE A BULLET IN MY STOMACH WHY ARE YOU DISCUSSING MY DIET WHEN THERE ARE MORE PRESSING ISSUES...

so finally we go into the actual room and its this giant giant mostly empty room, im remembering this room from my first go at this from when i was a kid. theres a table in the middle thats pretty big but has.. no chairs around it... but theres puzzles and weird bookmark things scattered around on it to keep you occupied, and then theres a single table far removed from everything else, only long enough for a body and slightly wider, and theres one identical to that on the other side of the room. and i know from when i was a kid that those are for surgeries and like, i KNOW this but i was like, wrow thats unsanitary lmao

so i go to the table in the middle because thats where you’re supposed to wait till you’re called for surgery, but im so ANXIOUS because like.. its surgery... and now im remembering more of it from when i was a kid like im remembering going into it, waking up from it... my classmates are all sitting on the table like its some casual after school thing, theyre all talking

and then i remember from the first surgery. i remember the surgery itself. i apparently wasnt put under for it. i was conscious during it. i was numbed out obviously but like, i was AWAKE, and that makes me SO fucking scared for my upcoming surgery. like, enough that some of my classmates sense that im getting more and more anxious so they start shoving the bookmarks in my face, and the bookmarks are like the weird ones from the library irl that have quotes on them, and like i cant even read any because im just so anxious like im keeled over in the wheelchair so anxious about it, and the fact that my classmates are trying to interact with me during this is just making it worse like i APPRECIATE trying to make me feel better but i CANNOT read right now

and like, i was never called for surgery? im sitting there until the sun sets, but i only know that because i eventually leave the room just needing to do SOMETHING and the hospital lobby, for all the people waiting for patients? is empty and the sky outside is the dark blue kind of like, twilight

i really dont know how this dream suddenly turns, like i cannot remember the breaching moment and idk if its because its been almost 12 hours since i woke from the dream or if there even WAS a breaching moment

but the next thing i know is that me and shannen are running (me wheeling furiously) along the top of some like, wall. and the hospital looming in front of us is now some sort of fortified citadel, and we’re on one of the defensive walls around it, theres towers and spires everywhere in the distance around the citadel. and theres fucking. ANGELS attackign the place. the angels are classic white dress wearing, harp playing, type creatures but their eyes are all closed and black tears are running down their faces, and literally everything else about them is white. the dresses are this weathered white, their skin is weathered white (like, like marble but without the darker lines yknow?), and their eyes + tears are the darkest things on them so they stand OUT. and their mouths are flat lines, also black like as if its like, lineart or something yknow? like their faces look like masks but they arent. they have harps in one hand and then LONG ass swords in their other hands and they are fuckign terrifying

so me and shannen are outside of the main area of attack and we stumble upon this part of the wall thats like, collapsed, and theres a fucking OCEAN next to the citadel. so the stones that have fallen into the water, theres some sort of chariot on it with the same kind of look as the angels, white + black accent kinda look to it. the chariot is low lying and theres a figure laying over it, collapsed, reaching forward at nothing almost like a zombie trying to move? and he.. god i wanna say it was icarus but i really dont know because i feel, deep down that his name started with an e but i have no idea what dude it would be then bc i know it was a guy from greek mythology somehow but IDK WHO... so this guy also has the same vibe as the angels but his face is like, a fuckign mess, like it looked like he was melting (maybe thats why i wanna say icarus idk) but the melted parts were black, plus the black eyes (whcih were semi open) and the black tears and his mouth was kinda open in a silent wail (also black). i wanna say he had black hair too but idk maybe the whole black mass on his overall head was just the melting.. and this melted black liquid is strewn all over the chariot and the stone block thats barely out of the water. and out of the water, behind the chariot, all the angels were bursting forward and heading to the citadel like as if it was the Angel Spawn Point

IDK it was such a weird fuckign sight it looked like a fallen angel but i just knew deep down that it was some guy from greek mythology but I DONT KNOW WHO IT WOULD BE especially with a name starting with e..!!!

anyway yeah i woke up then. the whole angel sequence was super short compared to the rest of the dream, but it was more on par with what i normally dream than the rest? like i dont recall ever having guns in my dreams except for maybe one dream in middle school that was like,,,,, nuclear apocalypse type thing......... and never have i ever been like, INJURED like that in a dream? i’ve died in dreams yeah but ive never been like.. shot.. the closest thing i can think of was that one weird borderline nightmare earlier this year where i died of internal bleeding in school due to school negligence..... hm!

like idk this was just such a weird dream i normally have very very wild dreams with a more fantasy element to them, and the mundane ones are just me in school or on tumblr, like ive never had like, an ACTION MOVIE kinda thing??

and it felt SO REAL like when i woke up i literally thought that i had some sort of repressed gun related traumatic event from my childhood that i was only uncovering now and it was only when i realized that i was in bed and not like, at the hospital with a gun wound in my stomach, that i was like oh haha no thats not real

[kitkat1003]

The Courage of Stars

@snarkyowl this took me way too long but here

Most winged people are born on their own.

It’s a disorienting thing, to exist.  Bursting from nothing and finding yourself being something somewhere.  Most winged people appear near towns, and society pays a small tax to house them for a time until they can spread their wings, figuratively of course.  They already know how to fly on their own. 

Anti?

Well, he was born with someone else.

Twins aren’t unheard of in regular human life.  People see them all the time.  Twins in winged people are special, are rare.  They come from the same idea and the same passion and they are known to be quite powerful.

Jim and Jim are an example.

So are Anti and Jack.

Anti wakes up looking at the clouds, lying down in a forest with his arms, legs and wings splayed out to the sun.  His hair falls slightly in front of his face, and he frowns, brushing the green locks back and pushing himself up off of the ground, leaning back on his hands and staring at his surroundings for a moment, before getting up and brushing the dirt off of his black pants.

“Hello!”  Anti jumps, wings flapping wildly as he jolts around to meet the voice from behind him.  The person who greets him is flapping his wings just enough to hover above ground, with a smile as bright as the sun.  His wings are a soft light green, with feathers of light blue and dark green speckled in.  He has the same green hair, though his is less messy and it shares the same color as his wings.  Anti’s wings contrast sharply, what being black with dark blue and bright, septic green feathers placed in perfect opposition.

“Jack?” The name falls out of his mouth without thought, and suddenly he knows Jack more than he’s known anyone else.  

Jack tilts his head to the side, still smiling down at him, and he holds out his hand.

“C’mon, what’re you waiting for Anti, let’s go!” His eyes crinkle, sparkling dark green orbs in white space to contrast Anti’s bright light green in a sea of black, and Anti doesn’t need to ask where to.

Their first day alive is spent chasing the sun.

They don’t actually make it to the sun of course, not when they’re so young and so inexperienced, but the feeling of being in the air, of speeding last clouds and going over forests and plains is so amazingly freeing.  Jack does more tricks, wide wings twirling and looping around in the sky, and Anti watches while speeding up, pushing his hair back with the wind and laughing so hard it hurts and feeling his eyes tear up from opening them so wide against the wind to take in everything.

They roll into the grass when they land, still laughing because existence is funny and so is everything else, before they stroll into a town, not talking because they don’t need to, but bumping into each other and giggling and ruffling each other’s feathers.

Turns out, they’re in Ireland.

Jack does most of the talking and Anti watches from afar, because the thought of talking to anyone is…discomforting.  Jack is easy to talk to, because Anti understands him and Jack understands Anti, but the other people are new and strange and Anti feels oddly hostile towards them, hackles raised like a cat ready to pounce.

Still, they easily make their way to the empty house made for new arrivals, marveling over appliances and bouncing on beds and flipping through channels on the tv.  It’s pretty threadbare, with utensils and a few essentials, along with a small pocket of cash for buying food, and Jack is immediately enamored with the oven.

“We could make so many cookies with this!”  He shouts, bouncing on his toes, before grabbing the cash and bolting out, calling behind him about going to the store to get ‘cookie supplies’.  

That leaves Anti alone in the kitchen.

He isn’t quite sure what to do, all things considered, so he opens the drawers and looks around, until his eyes land on a large knife.  His eyes reflect off the blade, and when he picks it up, the hilt fits perfectly in his hand.

Something darker in him stirs, and he imagines the knife soaked in red, imagines people screaming as the blade grows closer, imagines dragging the tool across skin.

He pockets the item out of more a need than a want, and the darker thing silences.

Jack comes back to Anti laying in the living room floor, rubbing his wings against the wooden plane in a vain attempt to scratch hard to reach areas.  Jack laughs, lifting Anti off of the floor, seeing the knife in his pocket and saying nothing as he instead runs his fingers through Anti’s feathers, scratching certain areas, and laughing because Anti purrs like a cat does.

Anti follows Jack into the kitchen, and the two bake together, Jack mixing the ingredients and Anti ending up covered in flour and eggs because he couldn’t get the flour out of the bag and it’s impossible to crack the ‘stupid not-birds’ without getting shell in the mixture.  In his anger he smacks the bowl so it upturns and splashes him, and Anti stews as Jack giggles while wiping the ingredients off of Anti’s face and mixing the dough together.

Anti redeems his culinary skills by rolling the dough into balls and making sure the oven is preheated, as well as putting the cookies in the oven and setting the timer.  He immediately sits in front of the oven door, impatiently watching as the cookies bake.

Jack sits down next to him, eyes alight with excitement at the prospect of freshly baked goods, and the night is filled with cookie eating and movie watching.

Funnily enough, turns out they flew to Westmeath.  That wouldn’t be anything notable if it weren’t for the fact that their creator, Sean, lives in Westmeath, and they spot him three days in.

Jack crashes into Sean with a shout of excitement, but Anti stalks behind, wondering over the burn of anger bubbling beneath his eyes, the instant hatred and disgust he feels for their creator the moment he sets eyes on him.

Sean looks like Jack, with less messy hair and light blue eyes instead of green.  There’s also a slight…difference between their eyes.  Sean’s eyes are blue, but it has the same energy that Jack’s does, an electric fire that draws people in, but with a calm, controlled bubble covering it that produces an air of…pleasantness that isn’t stifling in the way Jack can be.

Sean nearly screams when Jack runs into him, but the sight of his hair and wings makes his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, before he face splits into a smile.

“Woah, dude!  Did I make you?!” Jack nods fanatically, and Sean’s jaw drops, eyes scanning over Jack as he takes in the details, the wings, the light in Jack’s eyes.  Then, he looks over at Anti, who instinctively tenses, wings curling in and hunching in on himself, giving Sean a sharp grin that is anything but friendly.

Sean doesn’t seem particularly surprised by Anti’s behavior, and if Anti had to decipher the emotion in  Sean’s eyes, he would say it would be…disappointment?  “I expected you to be scarier,” Sean finally says, and the dark expression on Anti’s face drops to one of surprise, his brows furrowing in confusion after a moment.

“Scarier?” He comments, and Sean nods, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah!  You’re like, Antisepticeye, yknow?  A scary and crazy dude my fans came up with.  Tries to possess and kill me, or, well, Jack,” He laughs, scratching the back of his head, and Jack looks…concerned.  As if he doesn’t like the information he’s hearing.  His eyes flicker over to Anti, and Anti gives him a kind grin.  

Like he’d ever try and kill Jack.  Ridiculous.  Who’d ever want to kill their brother?

Jack and Sean talk for a while as Sean takes his groceries home, and Anti stays silent.  There’s so many people here, and his fingers twitch with and itch he doesn’t understand, a desire to main, to make a scene and have people look at him in all his mad glory, and it burrows beneath his skin until it feels like he’s on fire.  The less people, the better, because the itch dissipates the closer they get to Jack’s a house, the neighborhood and empty and private and quiet.

When Sean gets to his house he’s laughing because of a joke Jack made, and the sound is grating.  Anti wants to take the knife in his pocket and run it across Sean’s throat so he’ll shut up.  He doesn’t do it, of course, but he imagines it.

“I’ll see you guys again?” He asks, and Jack nods.

“Of course!  Right, bro?”

It takes a moment for Anti to realize Jack is talking to him, and that’s just enough time for him to think of a response, and that is enough for that dark, slimy thing to give him an idea.

He grins and tilts his head to the side, showing off sharp teeth and giggling shrilly and enjoying the way Sean goes pale.

“Yes~,” He holds out the word just enough to be creepy, but not overtly so, and Jack chuckles good naturedly, turning around as waving goodbye before taking off.  Anti takes a few steps closer to Sean, eyes wide and crinkled with mad glee, and Sean’s hands start to shake.  

“S̫͙̮͇̆̋̎͋̋̄͡ẻ̎ͦ̐ͫ̈͘e̒͌̃͋̊͟ ̳̱̗̰̝̺̓̿y̲̝̟̭̥ͯ̿o̦͕̜͕̳͎͈u͗ͤ̍͆́̽̀͘ ̟͎͚̌ͬ͂̈́̽s̰ͦ͗o͕̰͕͉͕̥̹̊̔͑͘ȏ̞̖̹̯ͦ͂n̙̥̲̦͓̩͛̾͐͂̄̍̀ͅ.:

The look on Sean’s face when he leaves is priceless.

He and Jack fly home after that, and Jack orders pizza, half pineapple and half cheese because the heathen Jack likes pineapple on his pizza and Anti would rather stab himself in the neck than have such an abomination touch his tastebuds.

That night, Anti sits on the edge of his bed, staring down his reflection in the knife.  Sean’s words float in his head, and he wonders if that’s his purpose.  The Anti of Jack.  But what does that mean?  Jack is kind, is unfailingly gentle towards others, and loves people.

Anti has claws, and he hates people for no reason other than that they aren’t paying him attention, and because they’re weak.  

The reflection of him in the knife flickers like a glitch, and Anti allows himself to smile, giggling to himself and twitching with a new kind of energy.

Scary and crazy, huh?

He can work with that.

The next day is spent searching for the sun.  They know that’s where they’re supposed to go, they know it.  There’s a nagging feeling in the back of their heads, a need to reach the city that can’t be seen from below.  That’s home, that’s where they can nest and feel like the belong, so they spend all their time flying higher and faster and getting stronger.

When Anti comes down for breakfast in the morning, Jack notices a shift in him, frowning while plating pancakes.

“You alright bro?” He asks, and Anti chuckles, playing with the knife in his hand and thinking, reveling in this new sense of purpose, of reason to be.

“Why w̩͊͒ͨ̊o͖̳̲̻̜ͪͫ̆͛̓̔̾͡u̡̗ͅl͎ͯ͑͆̿ͅd͖ͧ̕ń̳̗̜͙͎̙͑ͧ͗ͬ͞’͕̪͚̥̭̦͂̾̔ͮ̉͜t͟ ͣ̂ͯ͘I̟͈̹̟̟̻ͫ͗ͬ ̐͂̕be?” He responds, hopping onto a chair and digging in, ending the conversation even as his form glitches and his voice is accompanied by static.  Jack looks at him, worried but never scared, irritatingly enough.  Anti likes fear, liked it when Sean went pale yesterday and wants to see Jack be terrified of him like he should be, because he’s Anti, dammit!  He should be feared by all!

They go out, and when they fly the idea of Anti being Anti fades into background noise, replaced by the joy of flight because being in the air is so much fun; flying beside your twin and speeding past clouds and going so high your eyes feel like they’re going to freeze open.

When they hit the ground it all comes back, like tendrils of black seeping into his skin, colder than when in high altitude, and the Anti that was new and wide eyed and laughing at everything is shoved into a corner because he needs to be the madman he was made to be, trapped in his own bonds of creation, and maybe he likes it and maybe he doesn’t, but he isn’t given time to choose before being thrust into the role he was made for.

Jack lands beside him, and they stare at the setting sun for a while, watching it in wonder and imagining the city that lays on it somewhere.

“We’ll make it there soon, Anti.  You can bet on it!” Jack says, with no uncertainty or doubt staining his voice, and in that moment Anti thinks he believes him.

They spend more and more time trying to find the sun, and as days past they get closer and closer to the realization that they just need to fly there, to find a high point and fly until they find themselves in the utopia they dream of.

One day, a bright, light green owl flies in through the window of their house, but the color isn’t the only weird thing.  For one, it only has one eye, and it’s tail turns from feathers to whisps near the end.  It has black talons and beak and a black and green belt with a container that seems to be for paper.  

“Sam!” Jack shouts the moment he sees it, and the owl perks up, flying over and landing on Jack’s arm, nuzzling him with its head and Jack scratches underneath his chin.  “Check it out Anti, I got me own messenger bird!” He leans Sam towards Anti, but the bird narrows its one eye, snapping its beak at him so Anti has to move away.  Jack’s face falls, and he looks at Sam with furrowed brows.  “What’s wrong little bud?” he asks, but of course Sam doesn’t respond.

“H̖̭͈̗e̷͇̪̼̺̞̻ ̬͓̦̠͕̳j̪̮̰͉̮͠ͅus̩͖̬ț̦ ̛̰͕̪̯̖ḏ̺͙̣̟̻͎o̵̬̤͕̰e̯̥̟͞s͍̤͙̕ṉ̫̺̯̣͇̭’̜̖͓̙̦̰̭t̬̙͙͖̲͜ ̛̝l͉͇͍͔͇i͍͚̰̯̥̲k̶e̝̹͍ͅ ̮m̭̠̬̠̖͕̯e̙ ̹I̦̫̤̥͙ ̼̥̥ǵu̺̜͓͇̠̤̪e̥̱̣̘s͔̺̳̞͝s̡͍͉̪͈̦͕,̖̀” Anti shrugs, and it shouldn’t matter but it does, because this is the first thing Jack and Anti don’t share.

“Hey, maybe you’ll get your own,” Jack tries to reassure, and Anti shrugs.

He doesn’t get his own, but he’s not very surprised about it.

It’s after a flight towards the sun that Anti notices it.

It’s well known that wing size symbolizes power.  The bigger your wings, the more powerful and popular you are.  Simple.

Jack’s wings are bigger than his own.

Anti shouldn’t be jealous.  It’s not even a monumental difference in size, but a dark, burning jealousy erupts from the small difference and he can’t help the anger that eats him alive, that makes him grit his teeth because Jack has popularity and people like him while others shoo away from Anti and Jack has Sam and Jack has everything-

That Anti that was born staring at the sun, the one that laughs at the silly things and like flying faster than anyone else, that Anti flinches from the wave of rage and envy that boils inside him, and no one can save that Anti as the darkness swallows him whole.

A few days later, the anger and jealousy erupt, because Anti wakes up to Jack’s ribbing, and his eyes snap open and he tells Jack to leave him alone, but Jack keeps pushing and pushing to get him awake and-

Anti comes to and sees Jack with his back against the wall, covered in scratches that seem to be disappearing rapidly, and he lurches forward in concern, but by the time he gets there the wounds are all gone, as if they’d never existed.

“W̮̯͎h̦̲̬̫̫̗̙á̺̖͇̲ṯ̻͚…͞h̯̫̘̤a͙͕͍̦̝̳͟ͅp̯̞̫̺̬p̦͖̖̯̖̱̠e̶͍̙̯͍̪n̠͍̮͇̫e̡͚̰d̙͔̮̳?” he asks, and Jack stares at him with wide eyes.

“You went ape-shit on me dude.  Your eyes got all black and you just kept slashing at me, but it all went away pretty quickly so,” Jack shrugs.  “Are you alright?  You went nuts, bro,” Anti blinks in surprise, because he doesn’t remember any of that, but he’s glad that he didn’t hurt Jack much.

“I̮’̫̮m̤̕ ̖f̮́i̦̲̪ṇ͕͔e,” Such a response has never been more wrong, but Anti doesn’t realize that until it’s too late.

Three weeks after that, and they’re ready to try to reach the sun.

Sean and Jack have met up a few times during those weeks, mostly to talk about life and other things, and Anti stays in his room or flies until it hurts to do so while he waits because there isn’t much else to do.  Jack doesn’t comment on the static in his voice, or the way his form with sometimes glitch or twitch awkwardly when he’s sitting or standing around, and Anti wonders why, and he wonders what he did when he blacked out and he despises Sean and he can’t find it in himself to hate Jack even though sometimes he wants to.

He wonders what’s wrong with him.

The day they decide to go isn’t a special one, just a day they picked out for fun and Jack tells Sam to stay at Sean’s while they go, worried for his owl, and Anti watches in envy and flaps his wings impatiently.

“Alright Anti, Let’s go!” Jack says, excited and practically laughing, and Anti can’t help but crack a smile and be excited himself, because Jack has that effect on people.

They’re on the highest tip of Ireland, legs aching from the walk but wings poised to fly, and the foliage around them is swept back as they take off, bursting into the sky and flying so fast they look like tiny planes zooming through the sky, and Anti sees with a dark satisfaction that he’s faster than Jack.

The sun gets closer and closer, and it starts to tingle, a fuzzy feeling on top of his wings, but Anti ignore it and pushes forward and for a second it turns painful, before going away as they both push through it.

The light becomes blinding, but neither of the stop, and when they can see they can’t believe it.

A large city greets them, tall buildings shooting up from the sun and they can see other winged people zooming about.  Not very many, about ten, but that’s a mind boggling number in comparison to the amount they’ve seen.  Jack practically divebombs to the ground, and Anti follows him with the same sort of glee because they’re here!!!!  

They’re on the sun!!

Euphoria has him laughing with Jack and running around with him, flying up and looking at all the buildings, dancing around in the air and trying to memorize every inch of this new space.

“Anti, look!”  Jack points to a building, and the symbol of a single green orb on it is unmistakably a septic eye.  

They land in front of it, staring at the large building with wide eyes until Jack drags them inside, and from there they search every room, and Jack loves the large over and the rooms that are for drums and the bedrooms and the second floor has one with two beds.

Jack plops down on one, and Anti jumps on the other, and they both stare at the ceiling.

“We made it!” Jack shouts, laughing and giggling to himself, and even though they’re on the sun, even though they have their own building and bedroom and this place seems to be made for them, Anti isn’t sure that they have.

The next day the doorbell rings, and Jack goes to answer it while Anti finishes scarfing down breakfast.

“Holy fuck!” Anti drops the fork with a clatter and sprints to the entryway, only to see a man in a yellow shirt with a pink bowtie and suspenders aiming a gun at Jack, and anger has him glitching in front of Jack with a snarl.

 “Ṱ͓̜̥̝͡h̝̹͔͟e̸͎͇̻ ̢̝̺̖̗̤f̟̠̱̘͈u̜̦̥͕͕͔͝ͅc̹̬͔̺̳̭̬k͚̖̩ ͍̹̣̬̝̕á̲͙͔̺re̸͎̟̲̩ ̱̻̜̝̪̻̕ͅy̯̩͙̗̟o̺̦̮̞̙̜̬u̦̻̰?̖̤̫͚̰!̣͎̲̯̹̟̱”̸̜̘̣̝̠ ̱̟͔̲̟̖͙͝He shouts, and the man leans back, lowering his gun only to play with his suspenders and puff out his chest.

“Why, I’m Wilford Warfstache!” He shouts, twirling his mustache. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jack!” Jack calls from behind Anti, smiling.

“À̭̰͖n̥̺͝t͍͇̫̰̹̫i͜,” Anti deadpans, glaring.

He lets Jack do the talking again, watching from afar, but not too far because he doesn’t trust Wilford in the slightest.

Somehow, he gets roped into joining Jack to the ‘Markiplier Ego’ households, and there he finds far too many people with the same face.  Is Jack going to do something like this?  He hopes not, because having to stare at someone who looks just like you has got to be disorienting.  Jack is different, because he doesn’t exactly look like Anti, but he still isn’t looking forward to newcomers

He has another episode the next day, but this time he is given a bit of a view, because he can see shapes but he can’t decipher them, and he can hear Jack yelling and he wants to stop but the anger that boils his blood until it feels like he’s about to burst stops those thoughts from ever coming to fruition.

Jack just laughs about it this time, clapping Anti on the shoulder and helping him clean his wings while showing that he’s fine, and Anti wonder if this is Jack’s purpose.  Is Jack supposed to be a barrier, something Anti can rip apart without worrying about consequences?  Or does Jack just have a healing factor of sorts, like a superhero?

The answer comes the next day, when Jack cuts himself while cutting up an apple into slices.  The wound doesn’t heal immediately, and he has to bandage it, but Anti finds it as a confirmation that what he’s doing is fine.

He knows when he needs to stop, and Jack doesn’t mind, so it’s fine, right?

Right.

A few months later, a new Markiplier ego comes to say hello, and Anti hates him immediately.

“I am Darkiplier, but you can call me Dark.  Charmed to meet you,” His voice is slimy and cold, but Jack grins at him nervously and shakes his hand.

“I’m Jack.  Nice ta meet ya Dark!” Anti sneers from his hiding spot before getting an idea, snickering to himself with a wide grin as he puts his plan into action.

When Dark is done talking to Jack, most likely learning his weaknesses and what to exploit, he opens the door to leave, and a bucket of water falls on top of him.

A beat of silence, and then Anti bursts out laughing, with even jack chuckling to himself.  Dark turns around with a murderous expression on his face, but then he sees Anti, and the rage turns into dark curiosity.

“Who’s this?” He asks while removing the bucket from his head, and Jack inclines his head.

“That’s Anti, my twin,” He says easily, and Anti watches with cold eyes as Dark stares back with calculating ones.

“A pleasure,” He says, and walks back out.

He has another episode, and this time his vision is clearer, so he can see the lack of fear in Jack’s eyes, the calm way he dodges, which only serves to make him angrier.

More months past, as well as more episodes that Jack brushes off with a smile, and suddenly there are newcomers.

The first is a Doctor of sorts.  He wears glasses, a doctor’s coat, a stethoscope round his neck, a hair cap, a mouth mask thing, and has a wild smile.

“Doctor Henrik Von Schneeplestein, at your service!” He shouts with a decidedly not Irish accent, and he has an office clinic in their house that they don’t remember being there before.  After that, a magician named Marvin arrives, wearing a cat mask and showing off tricks to Jack who listens and watches with excitement, and his room is a stage with a bed behind it.  Lastly, a superhero named Jackaboy Man.  He and Anti spar sometimes, and his room is hidden and seen by no one.  Apparently it’s a part of his ‘secret identity’ or something.

They all gravitate towards Jack, because of course they do, and Anti watches from afar, jealousy burning in his soul and that terrible hatred that he doesn’t know the source of grows darker and angrier.

The three find out about his outbursts sooner or later.  Schneeps sees Anti and shouts in surprise, but Jack waves him off and says it’s fine just as he gets three terrible gashes on his cheek, but Schneep watches the skin knit itself back together and walks off after a moment, still looking concerned.

Marvin sees and tries to distract Anti with magic, but Anti tears through his cards and tricks and Jack has to push the magician out of the way to stop him from getting hurt.

Jackaboy actually jumps in the way and starts fighting Anti, throwing punches and dodging claws, and just as Anti lunges for Jackaboy’s throat Jack shoves him out and saves him.

Jack explains it to them later, how Anti just goes nuts sometimes and that he can handle it, but that doesn’t stop them from giving Anti a wide berth, from staying by Jack’s side and leaving Anti alone.

It’s not like Anti cares that they fear him.  He likes fear!  He should be feared!  But then they stop paying attention to him and they hang out with Jack and Anti doesn’t get to fly with brother so much anymore and he’s angry and possessive and mean.

Other egos have tried to fight Jack, sparring or just because they want to ruffle some feathers, but Anti always gets in the way, because Jack is fine after fighting Anti but he actually gets hurt when fighting other people and anyone who tries to hurt his brother is a dead man.

He takes it too far during one of his episodes.  Jack ends with a slit throat not from his claws but from the knife in his pocket, and the anger Anti feels melts away into panic and he speeds Jack to Schneep’s office and Schneep spends hours sewing the wound on Jack’s throat, fixing him and Anti watches the heart monitor until Jack wakes up and then he hugs Jack for all it’s worth, mumbling apologies but Jack just laughs and tells him to stick to his claws and not weapons but Anti knows it isn’t okay anymore, not when Jackaboy looks at him like he’s an enemy and Marvin looks at him like he’s a monster and Schneep looks at him like he’s a parasite.

Suddenly, Sam’s hostility makes sense, and Anti holds it all in, this burgeoning anger and lets it out by being rough with Jack on occasion instead of all at once, pushing him a little too hard to be playful and ‘accidentally’ ripping out a feather or two when they clean each other’s wings, but it’s not enough, never enough, and the knife is still in his pocket because the dark thing that has taken hold makes him keep it in his pocket.

Jack keeps saying it’s fine, but Anti doesn’t quite believe him anymore.

Something has to break, and it does, erroneously so.  Anti doesn’t stop pushing Jack around, and Jack doesn’t mind because it heals so fast, and they don’t fix it like they could.  Anti’s anger comes from such a simple issue of jealousy, but Anti doesn’t talk about it and Jack never asks, so the cycle continues as Anti holds it all in until it explodes.

And it explodes.

Anti is left in that terrible mixture of lucidity and lack of control, swiping at Jack for all it’s worth because he wants Jack to know how it feels to be second best, to pay for this feeling of resentment and never being good enough that Anti hates, and it drives him forward in sharp jabs of claws to Jack’s chest.

Jack dodges with practiced ease, taking a few hits here and there that’ll heal quickly so Anti feels like he’s doing something, that he’s actually accomplishing a task and alleviating this anger, but it’s not enough, and Anti breaks the one rules by whipping the knife out from his back pocket and slashing downward.

Jack stumbles back as the blade grazes his chest, the pain of a wound that actually stays and doesn’t heal immediately being so dizzying and disorienting that he doesn’t have time to recover, and Anti doesn’t stop for him, can’t stop because his eyes have gone black and his mouth is no longer a smile and is instead a snarl, and Jack keeps moving back and back and Anti keeps slashing and slashing, until Jack’s chest is more red than skin, and Anti’s vision clears just as Jack falls backwards off the edge of the city.

The knife hits the ground as soon as Jack disappears from view, and Anti screams.

Immediately, he jumps down, piercing the air like a bullet as Jack falls with limp arms and wings and legs and his eyes are calm, that’s the worst thing, because Jack is never calm but now he is, staring at Anti as Anti desperately tries to save his twin, and he’s going so fast that a dome forms around him, a cone of heat that burns the tips of his hair and ears and feathers.  He reaching forward as he gets closer, trying to grasp a hand, a leg, anything.

He doesn’t notice the black being ripped off of his wings as if the color was a layer of tar, revealing pristine white feathers beneath it, doesn’t feel the weight of something being lifted, but Jack does, Jack does and he smiles with a bloody chest and calm green eyes and he reaches up to wipe the tears that are falling from Anti’s eyes that are falling because he’s so close-

Anti grasps Jack’s t-shirt, and he pulls, but the fabric is torn from the knife so he loses his grip just as he’s pulling back up, and he has to dive again, but the ground is coming so fast and Jack’s eyes are closed.

The thud that accompanies Jack’s arrival to the ground is resounding, with cracks and snaps from bones and a sharp intake of air before nothing, dust sweeping across the landscape in a wide radius, pushing back leaves and foliage.  Anti lands harshly as he scrambles to get to Jack, because the wounds aren’t healing and Jack isn’t breathing.

He cradles Jack in his arms, pushing the lids of his eyes open, and the green orbs that contrast his own have gone glassy and empty, but he shoots back into the air and hopes because if he doesn’t he’ll fall apart.

The trip to Dr.Schneeplestein’s office feels far, far too long.

He bursts through the door of the clinic, placing Jack on the examination table with a gentleness he doesn’t remember having, and Schneep jumps up in surprise and alarm, checking Jack’s pulse before even thinking to ask questions because he doesn’t need to and going for the defibrillator as Anti shouts at him to fix it, fix him, fix Jack please.

The body jolts once, twice, three times, and even a fourth, but Jack does not start breathing, his chest doesn’t rise and his heart doesn’t start and Schneep has to place the defibrillator down with shaking hands that move to clutch his face and then he starts to cry like he can’t believe it.  He turns to Anti like he’s about to say something but Anti knows, he knows and he grabs Jack before Schneep can say anything and whisks him away to their nest.

When he’s there, he places Jack on the carpet covered in feathers and soft blankets and everything that they shared and he clutches Jack’s tattered shirt like a lifeline but he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t because if he does he won’t ever stop.

He’s always loved Jack’s wings, loved their feel and their soft colors and envied their beauty that rivaled his own garish black-wait, they’re white now, how on earth did that happen?

He stares at his own wings, and he laughs because they have blood on them, just like his hands are stained red so are they and of course they would be white because it’s so much easier to see red on white than on black.  He laughs and laughs and he clutches Jack’s shirt until it tears again and then he takes a deep breath and plucks each feather off of Jack’s wings.  He takes special care and places each feather next to him in a stack and his hands shake as he pulls each one off of Jack’s body-not a corpse, god no not a corpse-and when he’s done he picks up Jack and walks him back to the clinic.

Schneep is there, as well as Marvin and Jackaboy, and the three of them are crying and they look broken but Anti drops the body-it’s a corpse it’s a corpse you did this-on the examination table with a loud thud because there’s no point in being gentle anymore, and when they look at him he sees their hatred and fear and he runs, he runs to his room; he locks the door and he lays in their room surrounded by the feel and the smell and the whole of Jack’s feathers and if he pretends just enough he can believe that Jack is still here.

But he’s not, and Anti is the reason he’s gone.

Days pass, he knows because Jack’s alarm clock that wakes him up each morning goes off five times, but the days pass like minutes that Anti spends doing nothing but burrowing into this shell of a home, because Jack was home, Jack was what made living on the sun with everyone else bearable, Jack was the center of everything , was his rock and he only has the pieces of him, only has the feathers and his sheets and blankets and his clothes and things that Anti wants to hold and burn at the same time.

Is this grief?  Is this empty feeling of missing something but knowing you can’t get it back a form of moving on?  Can he even move on at all?

He feels listless, restlessly needing to get up and move but also so tired, too tired to walk, so he curls himself into a ball in the remnants of home thinks about how much better off the world would be if he’d never existed at all.

He scratches at his skin, wishing to tear himself apart but instead just leaving gashes that stain the green feathers with blood and so he rips out his own feathers because he doesn’t deserve to fly, doesn’t want to without Jack by his side, and he wants to feel pain because it’s better than feeling empty.

The alarm goes off for the tenth time, and that afternoon Schneep opens the door, looking down and finding Anti curled into a ball of blood and feathers, and he looks so tired, he’s not wearing his coat or his stethoscope or cap or face mask or anything other than the light blue shirt and jeans and when he sees Anti his eyes soften ever so slightly.

“G̪̮ͦ͠ẹ͚͉̞͕̔̕t͉̠̤̝̆͊̑̋ͦ ̬̯͔̞ó̠̻̝̖̿̒̀ų̲̭̬̰͕ͧ̏͆͐t̪̗̮̮̳͇̼̆̏!͒͋ͧͬ̈̊͏̪̦͙͍̺” Anti yells from where he is, slowly getting up on shaking legs and baring his teeth because he can’t, he can’t talk to people and tell them that he killed Jack because he’s a sick fuck who got jealous and never stopped being jealous-but was it even jealousy anymore?  Was it jealousy or was it because he was playing the role that he was cast- and he doesn’t want anyone in their room, he doesn’t want anyone tainting the sanctuary of Jack and Anti: Brothers.

Schneep sighs, and Anti notices his hands are shaking, just like before in his office, and Anti wonders if they ever stopped and if they ever will stop, or if Schneep have to live with shaking hands because they couldn’t save Jack.

“Anti, please, vould you at least come eat somezing,” The voice is strained, but Anti doesn’t care, he’s unbelievably selfish and he wants to never leave this room that has all of Jack in it.

“G̯͔̿͂̓͐́̒̔E͕͚̣͎͉̱ͥ̈́ͫͤT̶̲͈̫̿ ̶̱͍̲͍̤ͤ̃O̥͆̃̏̂͛̃ͨǓ̩̗̮̄͐͐ͩT̗̭͑ͣ͗͂!͔̖͈̠̜͇͌̐̀” He screams, glitching wildly and taking a step forward.

“I am not losing someone else!  I am not having you die here!  Jack vould’ve vanted-”

“Ỹ͛ͫ͂͏̖͉͕Oͫ̽̄̌̒̏̇҉̺͔̦͔Ü̞͓̱̝̪̔ͦ̔̋͢ ̈́ͮͯ͌҉͉D̢̽̏O͔̔̒̇͊Ṉ̔͜'̤͎̗̤̰̝͡T̷̺͎̞̤ͣ̑̎ͭ̅͛̅ ̸͂̊̓K̼̺̞̏̅̇̉̚͞N̜̣̰̟͙̼̳͆͌̓̆͊̚O̪̟͎͍͇̣̜̾͛̔ͨ̕Ẁ̟̥̟ ̖̬̦̽̊A̔ͯ̆ͧ̓̈ͧN̥͉̭͙̗̈Ẏ̖̹̩ͧ̉T͙̰̙͇̮͔̠̃͆͗ͦ̔ͣH͐̚͟I̩̩̞̔̒̂ͤ̎̓ͯͅN̲̥͊̋̿ͮ̔͐ͬ͟G̤͠ ̞͉Ȧ̝̙ͦ̕B̦̃̊͌̄ͮ̚ͅO̟̺̼̣̓̍ͫU̖̮͚̟ͫͪ͛̉ͬ̀Ț͉͕̦͈͓̔ ̴̺͚͎̱͈̬̺̌͐͂̿͑Ĵ͎̟̩̃A̶͇̝͎̞̞͎̰ͦͥ̅̿ͪ͋Ç̦̜̍ͨ̐K̜͚̥̲̇ͧͦ͋͝!ͪͭͪ” Anti shouts, because how dare Schneep use Jack’s name in front of him, how dare he use Jack against him, and suddenly he’s dashing forward and raising his claws to slash downward as Schneep flinches-

But Schneep has Jack’s face, Jack’s hair, just like they all do and Anti can’t look at that face and do it harm anymore, so he pushes Schneep out of his room instead and slams the door, leaning against it to stop it from opening and sliding down until he hits the floor.

He pulls his knees to his chest and puts his head down, wishing for the whole world to go away.

Eventually, he passes out from lack of food.  He’d had water from the bathroom, but no food for twenty seven days isn’t healthy, and he wakes up in Schneep’s clinic and when he opens his eyes the doctor hands him a bowl of soup with eyes that have dark, dark bags underneath them.

“Eat,” he says, and Anti does.

After that, a routine comes about.  Two times a day Schneep will come to his with some sort of meal, and Anti will eat it before leaving the plates and silverware outside his door. He still doesn’t leave his room, still doesn’t listen when Marvin asks for him to come out because he wants to show him a trick or when Jackaboy demands that he spar because he can’t leave his haven where he can pretend things are fine.

Schneep doesn’t try and force Anti out, and the fact that the good doctor gave up on him is saddening, but ultimately unsurprising, and Anti hides behind locked doors for weeks.

 He’s so goddamn selfish, and he knows that he is, but he can’t find the energy to care or change.

One day, nearing four months…after, a person wanders into Anti’s room.

“O-oh!  Didn’t think anyone lived in this area of the house, sorry bro!” The voice that greets Anti before he gets up is achingly familiar, and when he opens his eyes he sees green feathers.

Jack?

When he does actually look at the person he realizes with crushing certainty that he is not in fact Jack, but the similarities are striking and painful. Immediately, he growls, getting up off of the floor and glaring at the newcomer.

“W̴̯̬̦͖h̞̠̼̜̥̮ͅo̷̱͙̤͍͖̞̖ ̝͔͉̰͝a̜̯͔͕̖̟̜re̴̟ͅ ̣͝yo͏͙͔̘͍ͅṷ̯̬,” He spits through gritted teeth, and the man holds his hands up in a peace making motion.

“Woah, woah!  I’m Chase, Chase Brody.  I just moved in here?” Chase seems to be a new creation by Sean, if the look is anything to go by, and Anti huffs, turning back around and sitting back on the floor in the pile of feathers and blankets.

“G̷̳̦̮e̡̩t̸͓͇ ̲̥̞̘̘̟͡o҉̻͈͉̩̻u̵͇̮̹̝͈ͅt͎̟͖͓͕̘͉.̛̣̤͚̬͈̼”

Chase eyes the green feathers critically, tilting his head to the side.

“Whose feathers are those?” he asks, and Anti sees red, whipping back around with a snarl.

“I͕̟̦̺ͨ ̶͈̖̜̞̰̿ͨS̱̹̤̿̒̿̕A̲̩̣̥͖̩͠Ȉ̍҉̦͓̫̝̻D̲̮̹̙͔̰͆ͣ ̫̘̗̼̮͐̋G̻̯̱͎͒̊̋ͨ̀̽E͓̘̱̖͊̈̔͌͐͗͘T̻̥̝̤ͨ͐̊ͩ̓̀͡ͅ ̙̳̭͉̠̖̑̀̍̂ͩͧ́Ǒ̞̻̮̠̥͙̬̎̒Ǘ̢͍̙̥̱̹͌T̨͖̥̥̜̗ͩͦ̏͌̐!̭̜̫̱͔̳̾͗ͮ̐͘” Chase yelps, running out of the room and slamming the door closed behind him. Anti can hear him running down the hall, and he growls to himself, falling back into his comfort zone and curling his wings around himself in his empty room.

The emptiness seems more noticeable now.

Later that day there’s a knock on his door.

“H-hey, bro?  The doctor dude told me to bring this to you, so…,” he trails off, before the door opens slowly, Chase’s head peeking in.

“D̨o͏n͞’t ͞ca͡l̕l me bro,” Anti sneers because that was something Jack called him, holding his hand out for food, and Chase gives it to him carefully.

“Sorry, dude, I-,”

“Do̶n̴’t ca̕ll me͟ ̡t̀h̶a҉t͘ eit͘her!”

“Well, I don’t know your name, so-,”

“It҉’̡s̢ ҉An͠t̡i! ̶ No͞th̀i͜ng else!” Chase looks more amused than scared this time when Anti bares his teeth at him, and Anti doesn’t despise it like he thinks he should.  Instead it’s…nice, almost.  

Taking in a forkful of food Anti eyes Chase carefully, watching as the man fidgets uncomfortably.  “Who͞ ̛a͞rę ̴you an͡y͜way? ͠M̀ore̵ ̶th̴a̡n͞ your̴ ͞n͝amè,́ ̵I ̧m͟ęan͞,” Anti asks between bites, and Chase practically lights up at the question, sitting down in front of him and going over his whole life story.

A dad with two kids and a mean ex-wife.  Not what Anti expected, but then again, Sean did make Anti up, so the man has to be crazy.  Still, the way Chase speaks about his kids is sweet, and Chase himself seems kind, if clumsy and not very intelligent, though that might be more from Sean than from Chase.

When Chase leaves with his dishes, the quiet in the room becomes stifling, and Anti wonders why he can’t ever seem to get himself to leave.

Chase comes by the next morning, and Anti doesn’t snarl, doesn’t really mind because Chase is kind, not exactly in the way Jack was but close. Jack was kind but sometimes impersonal and over excitable, while Chase seems to know how to act, when to be loud and when to be soft, like a parent, and Anti listens to him talk about his life and the craziness that comes with having winged kids, how ‘Margaret used to fly around when she was two and I had to shoot after her,’ and ‘Miles would climb on his crib and jump off all the time, scared the shit out of Susan the first time.’  He listens and eats and starts wanting to follow Chase out, because Chase starts to feel more like a comfort than an annoyance and he doesn’t want that comfort to go away, he wants it all to remain in his room where he can hide for all eternity but Chase would never stay because he has a life to live.

Anti doesn’t really think he has a life anymore.  It died with Jack, because it was always Jack and Anti, Anti and Jack, and how can anyone stand one half of a whole for so long? How can Chase stand Anti’s static and glitching and the way he growls whenever Chase slips up and calls him dude, and how can Chase stand him if he knows that he killed Jack?

Maybe he doesn’t know.

(He doesn’t know)

A month in to where Chase has become a common occurrence rather than a surprise, and when Chase gets up to leave he holds out his hand.

“Want to go on a flight with me?” He asks, and Anti blinks in utter confusion.

“I̧ͧ̌̌ͨ̍…̨́”

“I mean, I don’t see you come out of your room ever, and that can’t be healthy.  I mean, we all need to get some sun, and we live on the sun, so there’s no excuse for you to not get your daily dose of vitamin D!” Anti should say no, he should hide in his room until he wastes away and he should snap at Chase and make him leave forever so he can die alone but they way Chase holds out his hand, the way Chase’s smile curves up sharply at one side is so reminiscent that Anti can’t even think to deny the request.

“Oͥ̌͂ka͒̀yͬ̃͊̓͆͐̾,” he says, and Chase beams at him, pulling him up and dragging him out of his room for the first time in five months.

Okay, Jack.

Flying is the most fun he’s had in a long time, and he races Chase around the city and he laughs without static and doesn’t notice the people staring at him.  He doesn’t see the Markiplier egos staying far away, watching him with an odd mix of confusion and pity because his wings are in terrible shape and his hair is messier than usual and he looks like garbage.

Later he wonders about them, wonders how they were given the news about Jack.  He wonders if they all hate him.

Later he thinks that they should.

For now, he zooms through the air with Chase until he gets tired, landing on the roof of their building with a contented breath.  Chase lands next to him and, without thinking, starts fixing Anti’s ruffled and half molted feathers.

Anti shrieks.

“D͚́̆̾ͨỏ̮̗̟̤ͭ̆̓ͩn͇̘̜̭̥ͅ’̗ͮ̀̈́t͚̤̼̗̗͐͛̂́̊͛ͥ ͙̦̻͔ͧ̌͋͆͘T͙̹͎̠̲̳̎ͤ̃͊͌O̵̱Ù̗̞͉̼̠ͅC̦͇̙̞̞̻̎̑̑̊̆ͮ̄͡Ḩ͈̯̲͔͎͇ͮ ͎̐ͯ̉͂ͦ͌͛͠Ḿ̗̬̬͉̫ͧ̿ͦ́̽̒͡E̜͚̞̙͉̘̞!̥̹̥͍̙” He shouts, jumping off of the roof and curling his arms around him, because no one touches his wings but Jack but Jack isn’t here and no one is Jack but Chase looks like him and he’s so confused and hurt again and-

Chase is babbling apologies, things Anti doesn’t want to hear, and Anti leaves, flying back into his room and slamming the door.

Immediately, he can sense that’s something’s missing.

A feather.

Suspicion has him bursting back out of his room and to Schneeps office, and he’s about to run in when he hears crying.

He peeks open the door quietly, and Schneep is sitting at the table in his office, clutching the feather that belonged to Jack and now belongs to Anti like a lifeline, shoulders shaking as Dr.Iplier rubs his back comfortingly.

“You did all you could, Henrik-,”

“I could not save him!” Schneep wails, head in his hands and the feather up against his cheek.  “I-I tried but he vas too far gone and I could not, and now he is, now Jack is-“ He cuts himself off with a shuddering gasp and he doesn’t stop crying and Dr.Iplier looks at him with understanding eyes and Anti has to look away because it’s his fault.

He’s so unbelievably selfish, and Anti waits until Schneep and Iplier shuffle out to grab the feather because Jack’s stuff should all be his, because he knew Jack first and he wants everything that Jack was.

That night, he dreams.

Jack is standing with a smile on his face, looking perfectly fine and alive, but each step Anti takes toward him is another slash to his chest, and no matter how fast Anti runs, he can’t stop Jack from falling.

And then Jackaboy and Marvin and Schneep are there, and they’re looking at with such hatred that Anti can’t breathe.

“You killed him,” They accuse him in unison, voices dark and looming, and Anti ducks his head, wings curling around him and he sees that they’re soaked red, just likes his hands and suddenly he’s drowning in blood, Schneep and the others growing larger and Anti feels so small.

“I̙̞̝ͣ̂ͦ͆̋̌̚ ̤̩̲̝̋̋ͨ̔̀̃d̶͔͍̣͔̻̭̖̆͛̀i̡͎̫̿̈́̂d̴̙̯̼̠͍̭ṉ̛͊͋’̭͓̘͓̭̰̹̓ͥ͜t͗͐ ̢͍̩̫̫ͫͨͧ̍̆ͦͪṁ͍́͊͋e̩͍͖͙͠a̺͍ͦ͜n̘̮̪̲͛̾̍̍ͪͪ ̺̘̬͙̯̐ṭ͚ͫ̔̀̌̎͑ͫ͘ó̝̟͎̣̈́!”  He screams, flapping his arms and wings in the thick liquid as he struggles to stay afloat.  “I̹̟̳͈̞̪ͭͩͪͬͧ͑ ̼̗͉̠̲d̞̚į̬̮͕̗̖͕́̃ͩͤ̋̃ͧd̺̺͙͕͕̆̎̃ͣ̓̚n̗͍̠̹̮͈ͧ̄̓’̻͎̺̅̒͗́ͅt̥͍̣̝͇͕̟͌ͭ̾̔͊̍ͯ͞ ̞͇̤̜̫͐́̒̌w̵̙̐ͭ̑̿̒͂ͅã̜͈n̜̪̖̋̏̊̾ṯ̖͈͇̐̈ͧ̕ ̵̬̩̪̮̼͆̒̒͐̆̿ͨt̫͓̙͝o̵͓ͥ,̇ͮ͂̉ ̨͎̭̝̝͍͈̇ͧĮ͚͔̩̭’̨̖͇̣̰̙͙̃ͅṃ̮̽̑ ̶̭̤͍̰̠̚s̗̯̹̹̫̩̺̓͒̾o͚̥̱̟͔̼͙̒ͬ̅ŕ̪̳̳̫͓̉̾͗ͯ̈͜r̵̥̰̖̅y̓̐̊ͧͨ!̦͓̺͈ ̂̒͊ͫ̉ͮ̋͏̦ ̜͍ͮ͊̅Ȉͩͣͩ̉̐́’͎̼̱̯͖͙͚̍̂͑̿̄ͨ͋m̠̠̄̃́ͤ͒ ͏̩̟͍̼̟s̭̜̅̇ͪ̏o̦̺̮̖̰͖̒̒̈̇r͓̻̳̝͖̂͐ͥͦ͑̒ͯ̕rͤ̊ͯ̒̌̌ẏ̗͓̦̯͇͖͝!̶͎̥̗̩̾͌ͯ̒”

He gets no response, and then he falls beneath the surface and is lost in a sea of red and regret and he’s screaming but he can’t breathe and there’s blood in his mouth and in his eyes and he needs out-

He wakes up screaming, and he claws at his skin, tearing and trying to get rid of the feeling of blood on his hands, the sticky feeling on his skin.

His claws find the walls, his bed, everything around him, until his side of the room is a mess, but as he glitches and shouts strong hands grab his wrists, holding him in place as he kicks and writhes about.

“-nti, Anti, ANTI!”  Anti stops as the voice calling his name becomes clear, and he finds Chase’s eyes boring into his own.  He gasps, going slack in Chase’s hold and breathing harshly to try and calm down, the remnants of the dream echoing but disappearing when he gazes into light blue eyes.   After a moment, Chase lets go, running to the bathroom and coming back with the first aid kit.

Carefully, he wraps Anti’s arms, cleaning out the many gashes in his skin and then putting bandaids on his face.  After that, he sits on the edge of Anti’s bed, watching Anti breathe.  “Bad dream?”  Anti nods, fingers clutching his sheets, trembling with bandaged arms and wide eyes.

Chase goes to brush a hand through Anti’s fingers but stops, looking to Anti for permission.

Anti nods, and Chase runs his hands slowly through his feathers, pulling out the molting ones and wiping away dirt Anti couldn’t reach with practiced ease, and Anti falls back asleep to the feeling of being safe and of being home.

In the morning he goes out with Chase, and it becomes part of his routine to do so, to follow Chase around while avoiding everyone else because they know and Chase doesn’t and that makes it so much easier to be around Chase. Chase will clean his wings-like Jack does- and Anti will do the same for Chase, and if anyone else tries to touch Anti’s wings he’ll snap at them and slash at them and when Marvin comes around he hides behind Chase, doing the same when Jackaboy arrives or when Schneep walks by because they hate him and he hates them, he does-doesn’t-and it’s better if he stays away because they know what he did.

Schneep grabs him by his sleeve once while he walks back to his room one night, not at all happy but looking better than before, as if Dr.Iplier talking to him helped.  The bags have lessened, and he looks to have fewer lines in his face.

“He isn’t Jack, Anti,” He tells him resolutely, and Anti clenches his fists so they don’t shake.

“I͞ ̵k̴ńow,” he replies easily, the lie falling out of his mouth like any other sentence, because he does know, because Chase has blue eyes and wears different clothing and doesn’t have as much of an accent.

But Chase has green wings, has a soft smile and soft eyes and likes to ruffle Anti’s hair and laughs loud and flies with him, and maybe, just maybe Anti is projecting someone else but it’s okay because no one needs to know and because Anti is getting better.

There’s just a little problem.

Whenever new egos arrive to the sun, they’re judged by many.  A social hierarchy has erupted over the years, and everyone wants to be at the top, so the more you can say you beat the more powerful you seem.  Chase seems weak, but he doesn’t act like it, and it ticks people off because he needs to know his place, and Anti always has to get in the way and let anyone who tries to fight Chase that they’ll have to go through him, because only he can hurt Chase-not that he would-and anyone who tries to hurt Chase will get claws to their face.

At some point, Chase brings it up.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he says, and Anti raises an eyebrow.

“Wh̶at?̀”

“The guys just want to rough me up a bit, and then they’ll be done. They’ll just keep coming if you don’t let them have their go at me,” Chase shrugs.  “They won’t kill me, well, Wilford might, but I’m not helpless,” Anti crosses his arms.

“I’m̨ ҉n͏ơt s̨to͝p̵p̵ing,” He growls, but Chase doesn’t let it go.

“But you’re getting hurt,” He points to the bullet wound on Anti’s arm from Wilford earlier that week and Anti shrugs.

“Do͡e͢sǹ’t ͠ma̡tt͘er.”

“Yes it does!  I can handle myself!”

“I͂͗͋̅ͩͭ̇ ͦd̷o͜n̂͑͛̿ͫ̄ͤ’̎ͥͦ̍̂̽ţ̍̽ ̿̊ͣ̑̿́͞wͭ̃̈͋a͏ń̃t̔ͮ͝ ͌̄̌͂͡y̵͋ͫ̐̀̒͐̚ő̔ͩ́͠u̽ ͦ̐ͥͦͤ̍͋t͊̿͂̄͘o̴͛ͬ͗!”

“I don’t care, Anti!  I’m not going to let you throw yourself into harm’s way for something stupid!” and Anti feels the words building up in his throat, the shout that is a long time coming.

“I̳̝̫̦̎̅͛ͮ̈́̾͊ͅ ͙͈̙̱͔̳̥͊͐̌S̫͈͖̩̫̓̔ͨ̿Ḁ͚͉̄͌̍ͭI͙̣̤͙͋̂͛D͔̬̞̟͉͛́ ͓͈͕́ͭ̎ͤI̴͈̺͉͕̫̎̄̓ͫ̈́ͅ’̗̠̠̜̼̂̾͂ͬͪ͞M̖͎̫̮͆̾̿͡ ͂ͭ̆͂ͦN̜̟ͦͣ̌ͯ͂͐O͇̱ͫ̑̒͌̌̅T̜̉ͭͯͧ̏ ̧̟̞͎͔̿̒ͫ̆̒ͧG̴̘̥̳͔̿̉̋̐̓ͦÓ̻̣͈͇̣̃͐N͉̓ͩ̂ͩ͒͗̚G͆ ̙̘̞͡T̍ͧ͑̏ͭͭ̄͡Ỏ̵̺͖̖̝̣͓̯ͮ̋̋̔́̚ ͓̳̙̻̩̥L̔̀҉̲̪͓͎̯̦E̹͗̐̾T̖̳̫̺̲͉̘͝ ̧̟̤͓̠͇̬̳̈́̍̾̆̚̚A̯͚̫͕ͣ̎ͅN̵̺͙̯̩Y̛̳͔ͤO͎̰͓̖̰͈̊̌͆ͪ̑ͮ͠N̒̉̂ͩ͂̄̿Ê̘̥̭ͫ̌̒͌̄ͧͅ ̻̮̪̮͂ͩ̅Ḣ͚̲͈̣͙̀U͇̘̟͎̜̥̞ͬ͟R̸̮̜͍͖̀ͨͅT̪̬̬̰ͪ͂͌͂͝ͅ ̝̼̼ͭ̅ͬ͒ͦͣ̎Y̠̠̝͎̬̾ͣͫͅƠ͇̺͈̠ͣ̽ͣͪǓ͉̭̖͙̖̮̌ͧ̄̃̾̓͢ ̠̞́̊ͥ̔̒̈J̡̩̲̹̖̮̗͊Ḁ̳̫̗ͦͬ͋C̗͎͚͚̆̓ͯ͘K̵̋ͦ!”

And everything around them goes silent.

“Jack?” Chase asks, and Anti’s heart leaps into his throat, because he fucked up, Schneep was right and he can’t explain and so he runs, flying off before Chase can say anything else.

Chase finds Anti sitting on the roof of their building, staring at the ground with hunched shoulders, wings curled around him.

“Hey,” He says softly, sitting down next to him and waiting, and Anti slowly uncurls his wings to look at him, feeling more tired than he’s ever been.

“Y̕ou’́r͘e ҉n͢ot̕ ̸Ja͝çk҉,” He says to Chase, because if he says it than he can believe it’s true, and Chase nods.

“I’m not.  Who was he?” He asks, probing gently, not pushing for an answer but patiently waiting for one.

“My ̧b̶rotheŕ.̡ ̸W̨e were t̸w̕in͜s̡. ́ ̴H҉e ͟wàs ́the b͞est̵,” Anti’s voice cracks, not like static but like a piece of glass shattering because he hasn’t talked about Jack in so long.  “Y͠o̧u ͡s̛houl̀d͞n̢'t̨ ̡be͞ fr̶i͘e͡n̶d͞s ̕wi͜t̷h mé,” he says after a moment of silence, and Chase tilts his head to the side.

“Why not?”

“I’̸m a ͢ba̵d̛ ̵pe̕r͢so̴n̵.  Yơu s̨hou̸ldn’͞ţ ͘b̶e̶ ̨around̸ me.” Anti curls in on himself, but Chase doesn’t let him push him away.

“Why?”

“I̡ hu͠r̀t̸ ͡p̴eop͝le.”

“Who?”

“H̯̯̲͒̃ͯ̐̏i͇̫̼̭̺̭̹m̘͙͔͍̜̦̍.”

“Him?”

“J̟̱ͪͬ̌̿ͦa̵̰̘̩̦̘̘̍̓͋͌̚ċ̌͑͊͋ͯ̚k̒̏ͣ̋ͥ!̓ͯͦ̐̑̀̾҉̙̣̩”

“What happened?”

“I̺̻̞͙̦̔̏̑ͭ̓̈́̚ ͧ̏͑̇ḵ̯̠̭̤̖͛ͅi̟̊ͤ̔͛ͬ̄͛͞l͓̍̅̑̓͟l̟̬̱͕ͦͨͫ̊e̟ͥ̋͝d̙ ̦̞̳̆ͨ̈́̒̅͝h͚͖̺̼̮͔̫ͧͮ͊i̞̱̙̩ͦ̓̔̔ͫ̐̾ͅͅm̬̱̭̳̔̓̾̃ͦ͑!̠̙̦͂͊ ̠̜͗ͩͅ ̮̟͔͔̳̺̌ͭ̇̉ͥ̒ͮ͟Ȏ̘̹k͐̓̑̚a̹͖ͩ͂͟y̺͍̥̼̗̖͇͛ͬ́?̖͜!̩̞̫̜̫͆͂̽̉̿̓̍̀ ̖̱ͯ̈͝ ̡͉̭̹̱̿̊͆̀̂Ĩ͈̹̤ͧͤ̏͗ͅ ͙̙̻̄̇̇̈́ͅǩ͚̪̭͖̎̇̈i̗͖̪͇̲ͅl̙͓͓ͬͮ̃̽le̹ͦ̄͊̍̈́̓̆͢d̳̀ ̘̰̣̦̂͑͆m͔͈ͮy ͔̝̳̟̒̈̎ͅb̝ͮrͣ͆̓̊ͭ̐̎ö̙̗͓̺͇̩̪́̓̍̀t͔̠͚͈̳͉̤͂͌ͣͨ̈́ͩ͟h̙͈͖̀̎ͧ͒͂̊̂e̜̗̪̜̖͈͍͆ͦṙ̯̗̅ͩ̿!̜̱̳͍̙̺̽͒” Anti finally bursts out, wings flaring up, and his eyes widen the moment he says it, watching as Chase gasps.  

“I̲̳͇̼̖͍̳ͩ̎̽͐̆̎ ̨̰̦̮̯̦͒͑k͗̓̂̿͐̕i͔̘͠l̵͔̫͎͗͆̐̑l̸̤͆ͩͩ͊̂ȩ̺̰͙̭̥̲̟ͫ̂̃ͥ̇͗d̸͕̜͕̜́̈́́ ̗̳̦̈̄̑̌̚̚͢ä̭͇̻̦́̎ͪ́̒͘n̩̰͟d̩̜̥̪͈͕̣͌̾ͫ͂͒̑͢ ̩͓̤̹͟h̓i̦̫̪͓ͣ͗̋͋ͯͥͯ͢ṃ̣̲͆̓̄ ̜͖̓ͣa͓͐ͨ̊͗ͨ̑n͓̹ͧ̽͒̾d̠̰̱͚̫̍͛͛͒͗́ ͩh̨̰̎̓ͯ͂ͦ̽e͍̦̦̾̋ͨͪͧ͊͗͞’̝̹͐̿̔̏͑s̩̣̫̤̋ͤ̏ͮ̓ ̺͔̉̔̒g͉͙͓̖̤̈́́͡ͅǒ̪̦͐ṋ̝͚͈ͣe̴ͮ̃͒̓̇ ̙̼b̪̓͢ȩ̘̗̲̲̏͋͆͆̐c͕͍̣̰̝̞̐͟a̠͇̟͙͆͊ͬ͛̓u͓̳̼̼̘̓̅̂ͅs͉͖̫̞̦̺̫͌̎͆̅͠ȅ̂͛͊̀͠ ̗̫̳͈̾̽̄̆̏̐ͧͅó͍̮̤͓́̚f̹̼̮̻̙͔͟ ̟͍̻̞̞́̅ͯ̄́̍̀͢m̡̝̂̓ͅe͉̳̗ͧ̅̋͆͑,” And saying it hurts, because the truth is painful.

Chase doesn’t react, but his eyes pool with sympathy and understanding instead of hatred and fear, and it is mind boggling.  No one besides Jack has ever been this kind, has put up with him for this long, and Anti doesn’t understand why.

“Did you want to?”  The question catches Anti off guard.

“W̵h̵̤͖̩͎̬̖̜̄͐̊a̬̪̥̰͋̃̏ͩͣ̇ͫt̲̳ͯͤ̀ͬͯ͡?͈̻̖̉ͧ̇̄̂ͯ̚ͅ”

“Did you want to kill him,” And Chase is staring him down with intense eyes, and Anti stares into the blue orbs and his wings fold back as he sighs.

“No,” His voice has no static when he says this, resolute, because if he had to choose between dying right here and now and having Jack alive or being alive and having Jack dead he’d choose to die so fast it’d give the world whiplash.  Chase smiles at him then, running a hand through his wings like Jack used to and staring at him with eyes that have softened.

“Then if he was as great as you claim him to be, I’d think he wouldn’t want you to hate yourself so much, right?  He’d want you to be happy,” And when Chase says that, something clicks, something snaps open and reveals that Anti that was born what feels like a million years ago, the one who laughed and liked to fly until his wings ached and the one that was shrouded in some sort of darkness a long time ago, and Anti lurches forward to give Chase a hug.

It’s awkward, and Anti lets go and scooches far away not three seconds afterwards, but Chase is beaming.

The next day, he takes every single feather from Jack out of his room.  He finds the three best ones, the prettiest, and he hands them to Marvin, Schneep, and Jackaboy without a word, an apology and a peace offering all at once because he’s tired of fighting and of being alone and he wants things to be okay.

Marvin hugs him, and just this once Anti lets him, patiently waiting out the sobs and rubbing Marvin’s back awkwardly because he doesn’t understand comfort.

Schneep grins at him, chuckles and places a hand on Anti’s shoulder while wiping tears from his eyes.

“Thank you,” he says, and Anti smiles softly back.

Jackaboy doesn’t say anything, but instead he smiles softly, running his finger over the feather and showing some sort of forgiveness in his eyes, and for Anti that’s enough.

When night falls, he takes the rest of his collection out to the edge of the city, the place where Jack fell.  There’s a tiny memorial, a stone plaque that says Jack on it and some sort of quote that’s supposed to mean something, not that any few words could ever sum up who Jack was.  Anti thinks that Jack could be buried here as well, but he also heard something about cremation, so he isn’t sure.

That doesn’t matter.  There’s a slight breeze that Anti appreciates, and he takes the bag of feathers and upturns it, letting the feathers that have stayed in his room for months fall into the wind, flying far away from the city and down toward the ground below.

The tears that he finally allows himself to have should feel like acid on his skin, but instead they feel like a cool release, relief of pain that has been building for those months when he wouldn’t let himself cry because he felt he didn’t deserve to.

He stares up at the stars, and his mind goes back to when they were just trying to get to the sun, still in Westmeath on the ground and still brothers with no idea of what they were doing, just know that they had to do something, just knowing that they had to go somewhere.

We’ll make it there soon, Anti.  You can bet on it!

Anti chuckles, still crying but smiling because Jack has that effect on people.

“You were right, you big idiot,” He says without static, and his voice is choked up and so unbelievably sad but so amazingly happy because Jack has that effect on people.

“We made it.”

And the feathers float through the air in the shape of two strong wings, and the stars continue to shine.

[possibilistfanfiction]

these are what they call hard feelings (of love)

[carm/elle, grey’s anatomy au (no one dies tho). they’re disaster kids who are also surgeons. yknow the deal.]

//

these are what they call hard feelings (of love)

guess this is the winter/ our bodies are young & blue/ i still remember everything, how we’d drift buying groceries, how you’d dance for me/ i wish i believed you when you told me this was my home —lorde, ‘hard feelings/loveless’

//

it starts like this: you get to work before the sun even rises, change into your scrubs, go on your rounds, perform an eight-hour operation, kiss another pretty girl, walk home after your twelve hour shift; you have a normal day, really, all things considered for a resident who works somewhere that has a winter for eight months.

it starts like this: it snows before the sun even rises, and that day you lose a child on the table, and her heart stops beating in your hands, and you tug elle to you in the on-call room because you can’t stop feeling the exact moment, and you kiss her roughly while you cry, and after you put on your beanie and light a cigarette and walk home in the snow, the ash burning in the dark, your delicate, extraordinary hands going numb.

//

most days aren’t so bad; you like pediatric surgery because sick children are both more honest and far less annoying than sick adults, and the teenagers especially are cool—jaded and clever and funny.

you also have a stellar surgical record, so most days are actually kind of great. when you have time to plan, when you know you’re going to be able to be perfect, it’s amazing. but then an eight year old girl comes in who ran into a tree while sledding in the park, who has broken bones and a small crushed chest and you’re across from elle in the operating room, her steady hands always steady, always lovely, as she tries to stitch up this tiny heart and tiny lungs but it’s not good enough. that day, neither of you are perfect.

//

‘what are we doing?’ elle sighs very quietly. you feel her sigh because you have your head on her chest so you can hear her heartbeat while the wind howls away outside. you’ve started spending more and more time together outside of the hospital; today you’re in her warm bed, fully clothed because you’d both been too tired for anything last night and honestly you didn’t mind. you’re getting less and less used to sleeping alone.

you shrug. ‘i thought we were just having fun.’

‘the past three times we’ve had sex you’ve cried.’

you grunt. ‘false.’

elle tries not to laugh—you can hear it—and you’re glad she can’t see your smile into her soft tshirt. ‘true, carm.’

‘well there’s no need to add insult to injury. first do no harm, right?’

she’s quiet for a moment, so that joke didn’t land. ‘i have feelings for you,’ she says after a while, very quietly, almost like her words are going to shatter something, like the soft, unbearable weight of snow after a night of it.

you swallow and your heart races because you have feelings for elle too—who wouldn’t? she’s smart and kind and beautiful, some kind of perfect version of a kate moss lookalike in a weird world where she ended up being a cardiothoracic surgeon. she makes you laugh and always brings you coffee when you have rounds together and you first started working in a clinical trial together a year ago and then—

‘i can’t,’ you say, even though you don’t want to. but you feel your broken wrists and countless black eyes and ribs that were bruised for years; you feel the kind of love your mother had for you—dark and rough and unforgiving and hateful. it’s confusing and your heart races and you’re scared; elle has never, ever, not once, raised her voice at you, let alone raised a hand. ‘i’m sorry,’ you say, getting out of bed because you feel her chest hitch and you really don’t want to see her cry. ‘i can’t.’

you start to dress and she doesn’t move and you don’t look back, you can’t look at her, because if you do, you’ll stay forever. 

‘i’m sorry,’ you say, again, and when you get outside the snow hasn’t stopped.

//

elle is, frustratingly and predictably, entirely professional and maybe even nicer. she never snipes at you, even when you make some underhanded comment. you think she seems sad, kind of, but elle is happy too—she’s always happy, always amazing with patients. it seems like she has something in common with literally everyone, and she can calm a room within a second.

it’s one of the reasons you liked her to begin with, when you were residents she’d immediately been beyond competent in the OR but also beyond competent interacting with people, which you’d admired even though you hadn’t want to. the first time you kissed was outside clinton’s, across the street at the market near the park, in the fall. you had run into her—you needed cigarettes and she apparently needed vegan sausage and couscous—and you’d never hung out with her outside of work but you were both tired and hungry and you got poutine and beers and then there you were, with your cigarettes and couscous, kissing on the corner under a streetlamp in october.

which was over a year ago, you realize, of kissing her all over the hospital and all over the city and on your orange fire escape on a tuesday evening and in her kitchen while she made you breakfast in the summer light.

you can sleep with lots of people, and you do, after you walk out of her bedroom in the middle of a blizzard—you’re a surgeon and you’re beautiful, you know these things. your hair curls softly and you have eyelashes from god and you have far too many pairs of blundstones and perfectly ripped skinny jeans and when you buy a girl a drink at the gladstone and let her take you home, it’s not hard. it’s not hard because it’s nothing—it’s a few moments of pleasure and then you put your boots back on. 

it’s not hard because you won’t allow that of yourself; you won’t allow yourself to build a life with elle—because that’s what you would be doing, going to work together, saving people together, going home and making dinner and playing with her cat and going to trinity bellwoods on the weekends and probably even letting her convince you to join the hospital’s softball team even though you’re the least athletic person you know.

you work with her, admire her hands and just how fucking smart she is, the way she remembers meilinn’s medical history even though she’d spoken to her for maybe four minutes almost eight months ago; the way she goes through each patient checklist in the OR before surgery like it’s the single most important procedure she’s ever done. you cut your hair in the spring and she smiles genuinely and tells you it looks lovely; you find yourself sitting with her at lunch every now and then. 

taking other girls home is easy; elle—her laugh and the way she chews on the tip of her pen when she’s concentrating; the way she smells like magnolias and the birthmark near her elbow—is hard.

//

your leg fucking hurts, in the kind of way that scares you because it reminds you of when you were small but also because you know that it’s distinctly not good. 

you’re kind of stunned, and it’s probably shock because you were just in a car accident and your uber driver is conscious and seemingly not critically injured when you check on him in the front. you struggle out of the car, but you get the door open. there are plenty of people around and you’re sure someone has called 911, which is good because your leg, when you look down, is sufficiently fucked, which means you only have a few more solid minutes of adrenaline. 

there are two kids in the car that hit you, though, and one isn’t waking up, and she’s bleeding out of her ear and she’s so small. this is, however, what you know best, so you have all of her vitals when the paramedics get there four minutes later. you insist that she’s taken to your hospital, and you try to let them go in the ambulance with her, but they overrule you when they cut your pants open and see part of your femur poking through your skin.

you’re on a significant amount of morphine when you get to the hospital, and after some top-notch scans, you’re relieved that you have some whiplash and bruises and a little gash on your forehead that needs seven stitches and a leg that will require surgery, but nothing else that’s worth caring about. 

elle, however, does not seem to know this news, and she comes rushing into your room in the ER while you’re waiting to go to the OR. 

‘whoa,’ you say, and she’s even prettier and softer and lovelier when you’re high. ‘calm down there, hurricane. i’m fine.’

she rolls her eyes and pulls up what you’re pretty sure is your chart on her ipad, scans through everything quickly, then sits with a very relieved sigh in a chair at your side. 

‘you scared me,’ she admits, and it’s the kind of thing that’s so tender and sincere you want to cry. 

‘just a few scratches.’ you wave your hand vaguely in front of you. ‘nothing to worry about.’

‘i had very little information when an intern told me a few minutes ago.’

you snort a laugh and you’re too loopy to even care. ‘interns.’

elle takes your hand, very unceremoniously, and it’s the first time you’ve touched in months. 

‘elle—’ you start, but she squeezes your hand and shakes her head.

‘just—don’t say anything now,’ she tells you, quietly. ‘i’m just glad you’re okay.’

‘yeah,’ you say. ‘okay.’

you doze off and then you have surgery to fix your leg and elle isn’t there when you wake up—you don’t blame her, because she was in scrubs and her labcoat when she’d been to see you earlier and she usually has big surgeries scheduled for tuesdays—but there is a huge bouquet of magnolias by your bedside and you don’t even need to reach for the card to know they’re from her.

//

you take time off of work to heal—you have to, and you’re bored out of your mind. you crutch around your apartment and order in a lot of food and amazon prime pretty much all of your toiletries for two weeks, and you’re legitimately about to go crazy when there’s a knock at your door.

it takes you a frustratingly long time to get there, but then you open it and elle is smiling, holding a huge bag of groceries.

‘when is the last time,’ she says, ‘you had a decent home-cooked meal.’

‘you could’ve called,’ you say, even though you’re smiling and you scoot back to let her in.

she looks guilty for a second, putting some really fancy-looking wine in your fridge. ‘i deleted your number.’

‘ouch,’ you say.

‘i wanted to drunk dial you,’ she explains. ‘like, a lot.’

‘who wouldn’t?’ you say, gesturing kind of in general to your admittedly sloppy and dark apartment and your unkempt hair and the same sweatpants you’d had on for three days now, and elle laughs, then goes to open your blinds. 

you go over to the kitchen island and get yourself situated on a stool before taking her phone and trying out her old passcode (562533, which really just spells LOCKED, which always made you laugh) and when it opens you smile. you put your number back in.

she gets back from your bedroom with a pile of laundry and you say, ‘let’s open the wine.’

‘trying to get me drunk?’

you gesture to her phone. ‘well i did put my number back in your contacts.’

she huffs a laugh. ‘i’m going to start this laundry while you shower, and then i’m going to make dinner, and then we can open the wine.’

‘buzzkill,’ you say, even though you’re already hobbling to your bathroom and you feel more alive than you have in months.

you have wine and the best friend chicken on this earth that night, and you want to kiss her, but elle makes you laugh with her awful impressions of everyone in 9 to 5 before you fall asleep. she’s just—she’s elle—because she sleeps on your couch and leaves you croissants and a cortado from ezra’s pound the next morning, the blankets folded neatly and wine glasses washed.

//

you start to text again, just little messages here and there, a lot about work and some about her cat and a thrilling few when she’s clearly drunk that she misses you. 

but you don’t see her until weeks later, when you get your cast off. you’re limping terribly, but it’s finally a little warmer, and you’d gotten a haircut and some new sneakers you desperately needed. you’re up to maybe sitting at the park and reading, but you want cigarettes and you can’t help but laugh when you spot long blonde hair and what you’re sure are perfectly tailored all saints jeans. 

‘hey stranger,’ you say, walking up behind her.

elle turns with a smile. ‘carm!’ she says excitedly. ‘you got your cast off.’

‘that i did,’ you say, paying for your cigarettes while she frowns. 

‘i hoped your brush with death might’ve stopped that habit.’

‘never,’ you say, winking before you follow her out after she rolls her eyes.

she sighs on the street corner and looks at her watch, then looks at you hopefully, even though you can tell she’s trying not to. ‘do you want dinner?’

‘only if we order like seven kinds of poutine and you buy me drinks.’

‘i’m so glad patients don’t run into you outside of the hospital,’ she says, and you elbow her with a fake glare before she laughs.

you eat and drink and she tells you about the new intern class and you’re set to get back to work in a week or so, so you actually try to pay attention to the tips she gives you. someone is singing terrible karaoke and really boring jays spring training news is on the tv and elle is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

'i was, like, really abused when i was little.’ you say it aloud and you’ve said it before, to a few therapists, but you don’t talk about it and you certainly haven’t talked about it to elle, who looks at you so softly you have to turn away. ‘that’s why i—you know, why i—couldn’t.’

she nods. ‘you broke my heart, you know.’

‘i’m good at that,’ you say. ‘broke mine too.’

‘fortunately for you,’ she says, leaning toward you a little but your chest still tightens, ‘i’m a world renowned cardio-thoracic surgeon.’

you laugh, really laugh, because otherwise you’re pretty sure you’d both start crying.

‘also,’ she starts, very solemnly, ‘i can’t promise everything, but i can promise that—i’m good, carm. i’m good and i won’t hurt you.’

you nod down at the remnants of your poutine. 

‘if you want,’ she adds softly.

‘okay,’ you say, and when you look up she looks a little surprised but really, really happy. 

‘yeah?’

‘yeah,’ you say. ‘yeah.’

she laughs this little delighted thing and raises the last sip of her beer in a little toast and then puts down far too much cash and gets up, then helps you.

you feel jittery when you walk outside, even though you’ve both certainly done this before. 

you’re underneath the streetlamp and you both slow and elle laughs. ‘we’re really going to kiss here again?’

‘first kiss 2.0,’ you say. ‘seems fitting.’

she shakes her head and then leans down, and it is. it is.

//

it starts like this: you walk to work, slowly but surely, on a warm morning that’s sunny but not too hot, and a child’s heart is in your hands but it keeps going, beating away, and you watch elle place stitch after careful, lightning-fast stitch, and you wait for her at the front doors, and you kiss a very, very pretty girl, and you hold her hand on the way back to her apartment, anything but numb.

[borkasaurusrex]

(D·N·C) SEASON 1 | EPISODE 2 | "S&S"

With a high-pitched Doo-Doo! a pair of double doors swung open, and a tall, brunette teen strolled into the establishment, taking in all the atmosphere... and mediocrity.

Well, mostly that second one.

The shop was mainly white and gray, royal blues accenting the corners and farthest wall away from the entrance. Shelves, of both the wall-mounted and in-the-middle-of-everything sorts were scattered about, said shelves chock full of containers colored green, blue, and other similar schemes. Judging by the signs above each cabinet (Xbox Classics, PS3 New Arrivals, PC Exclusives, etc), they were video games.

Axel took a little stroll through the section labeled 'PC Exclusives', eyes grazing the colorful selections and dramatic (often lewd) promotional art  next to the bigger displays. He looked up and down, left and right, sideways and longways... but he never reached out to any of the boxes, didn't even lean in for a closer look. He didn't do anything... but sigh.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Axel whipped his head around, towards an older man that, if he didn't know any better, would've thought was Adam Savage. Said man was tall, slim, blonde hair cut and glasses propped in almost a perfect replica of the Mythbusters (arguable) frontman. Judging by his pale blue uniform, nametag, and fake grin, he probably worked at the store.

Axel smiled weakly back, stammering, "Uh... nah, I'm okay. Just... just browsing."

"'Just browsing', huh?" the employee repeated. "Well, what kind of stuff are you browsing for? Anything specific?"

"Not really," Axel said. "It's just... with school started up and all... and homework being... well... homework, I'm trying to find something to..."

"Tide you over?" The man suggested. "Distract yourself from the monotony and boredom that is the American school system?"

"... Yeah. Pretty much."

"Well, we've got you covered!" The fellow craned his head over the aisle, eyes scanning the selections all squinty like... until, with a low "Aha!" he said, "Black Ops 3's coming out in a few months, maybe you want to pre-order that?"

"A few months?" Axel echoed. "I was kind of hoping for something..."

"Now?" The employee finished. Axel nodded.

"In that case, we have Evolve, the Witcher, Battlefield: Hardline..." the man continued, looking down at Axel. "... Still nothing?"

"Maybe something a little less popular? Something... indie?" He went on, "Y'know, like Undertale, Life is Strange, Pillars of Eternity, Swords & Sorcerers... that kind of - "

"Wait... what was that last one?"

"What? Swords & Sorcerers?" the guy repeated. "Surely you've heard of it."

"I... I don't think so," Axel said.

"Well, it's a MMORPG, see? Like... Guild Wars, or Everquest. You know Everquest?"

"I didn't understand anything you just said in the last five seconds."

"Well... uh... how can I explain this?" The man turned up his brows, obviously thinking. "Think of... uh... oh! World Of Warcraft! You've gotta know what that is at least, right?"

"Isn't that, like, a movie?"

"Okay, well, before it was a movie, it was a video game! A wonderful, powerful, incredible video game that had more fetch quests than I have friends.

"But... Swords & Sorcerers, S & S, it's like WOW... but, like... a Banjo Kazoolian times better! Everything better, from the art design, the aesthetic, the ASS-stetics... yknow, it has it all: swords... sorcerers... uh... servers, anything you could want. And it's free, too!"

Axel's eyes widened at that. "It's free?"

"Pretty much! Or... well, until you hit level 10, in which case it's just a... well, small fee..."

"... How long does it take to reach that?"

"Five minutes."

Upon seeing Axel's face, the man quickly stammered, "But it's not even that much money, if you think about it. $39.00... why, I... uh... spend more than that on condoms every day!

"That... that was a lie... but it's not the point!" He continued, "For such an exciting and enticing adventure... what's wrong with giving the company a little "tip" once and a while, huh? Like, so what if it costs almost half a Benjamin to unlock the 2nd area, or twice that for the next? So what if it you gotta fork over a little dough to sprint, or to get something better than the starting pants? It's all worth it, really, in the end. It... this game - nay, experience - is  a phenomenon, a fucking legacy-in-the-making. It's amazing, a truly original miracle of modern art!"

Axel looked up at him oddly, the edges of his lips in a pretty clear frown. "I... I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"No sarcasm, all truth!" The bespectacled employee said. "I assure you: this game will be the single most fantastical, addicting experience in your entire (possibly disappointingly short) life, or my name isn't Marvey!"

Axel's eyes traced down to the man's nametag. It said 'John'.

"Come on, kid. Whadd'ya say, huh?"

"..."

"...!"

"... Fine. I'll try it out."

"Excellent! I'll ring you up, over there." He pointed to the front of the shop, near the suspiciously cluttered cashier counter. "Do you want to purchase the eight DLC that come with the game too? Only $89.99!"

"Eight DLC? Really?"

"Well, nine technically, but since you missed out on the exclusive pre-order DLC when the game was announced, you're going to have to settle with that... or, uh... you could hypothetically buy it, but it'll be a bit pricey. $30.00."

"$30.00? On top of the other, what, sixty?" Axel asked.

"Ninety, actually," the man said, "Don't think I'll give you a discount, now.

"But... look, you can just buy the base game, I guess, but..." he sighed, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "You'll be missing out... on the whole experience."

Axel paused, mulling thoughts over in his head while the employee just stood there, rapping his fingernails on the counter impatiently.

"Well, what's it gonna be, kid?" He asked.

Axel turned to him, shifting his jaws as if tasting his words first.

Finally, he said, "... Fine. I'll take it."

"Awesome sauce! Here, let me package it all for you..." The man pulled several discs from under the counter, wrapping them together, grinning all the while. "A ha ha... and they say capitalism doesn't work! Heh, idiots!"

~-~

Axel rolled the game case between his hands, feeling the course plastic against his skin. He stopped playing with the box and instead held it up, getting a good look at its front. The cover art was minimalistic, the silhouettes of a heavily armored man, a robbed guy with a beard, and a woman with a bow, a boobplate, and not much else stood in heroic poses, under an almost cheesy medieval font reading "SWORDS AND SORCERERS".

Axel's eyes grazed around idly, connecting with the stack of papers (homework, most likely) on the desk below him, next to a surprisingly clean all-in-one PC.

His eyes went to the homework... then the computer. And back to the homework again.

I should do my homework first... He thought, placing the plastic case on the desk lightly. Then maybe I could... uh... play for an hour... or two...

He reached out to a mechanical pencil, at the edge of the desk... but stopped.

He looked back to the computer, and the game besides it.

His eyes furrowed, looking down at the box desperately.

"..."

"... Maybe just one quick game..."

~-~

Ding-Dong!  

Mr. ElRite slipped right off the edge of his loveseat, smashing his face hard into the carpet below - and his finger, on the remote, shutting off the fleshy tones and moans from the TV above.

"... Uh... coming!" He shouted, pulling himself - and his pants - up to his knees at a rapid pace. He jumped to his feet, making his way quickly across his rather plain living room. It was... nice. Warm colors, pale reds and browns, made up most of the area with the occasional family portrait or window interrupting the flow of the wall. It was nice. Very plain... but nice.

Mr. ElRite stopped in front of the front door. No decorations at all, not even a different paint job. Just a clothes hanger, and an empty one at that. He leaned up against said hanger, slicked a few strands of hair behind his ear, and pulled the doorknob open.

The light from outside, not even that strong (due to the cloudy sky above) was like staring directly in the sun for the older man, and he squinted his eyes in as if staring into Ra's gaping man-beak itself.

Standing on his doorstep was a teenage girl. She was wearing a burgundy hoodie, her long red hair tucked neatly under a beanie. Her skin was pale, her eyes a particularly bright enough shade of amber they almost looked yellow. Mr. ElRite had to look twice to make sure they weren't.

But yet... he recognized her. She was...

"- Oh! You're, uh, one of Axel's pals, right?" He asked. "Uh... Anna, right? Or Ana?"

She huffed out a sigh. "... Evanna."

"Oh, right! You're Seelig's daughter! Well, uh, I was close at least! Ha ha... ha..." He coughed, clearing his throat. "So... uh... what can I do for ya, Evanna?"

"Is Axel home? He hasn't been to school in... well, ages."

"Oh yeah, he is! He's... he's in the study right now, actually."

"..."

"... Can I see him?"

"Oh, of course! Come... uh, come right in!" Mr. ElRite took a step to the side, leaving the clearing open. "Do you want anything? Refreshments, perhaps?"

"Some tea would be great," Evanna said, closing the door behind her.

"Uh... is Diet Coke okay?"

Evanna pulled her hoodie off, revealing a band t-shirt with more pentagrams and guys with makeup on than Mr. ElRite's usually comfortable with. She brushed back some spare hairs, giving him a surprisingly condescending look for someone 15. "Hrmph... I guess..."

"Alrighty... I'll... uh... get that for you." He walked away, turning around a corner and shouting, "Oh, the study's at the end of the hall... to the left! Just make yourself comfy, okay?"

She didn't respond. After a low slam! from the corner Mr. ElRite turned around was any indicator, she was now probably alone.

Without wasting another moment, Evanna walked down the hall at a slow pace, using her spare hand to feel the grooves and bumps of the nearby wall.

"Jesus Christ..." She whispered, squinting her eyes. "Is it always this sodding dark?"

She made her way down, the hallway becoming even somehow darker as she went on. She took a couple of steps forward tentatively, about to pick up her pace until she banged her shoulder hard. She slipped a "Shit!" out under her breath, rubbing the shoulder gently. She turned her head towards the object she hit, her eyes adjusted to the dark enough by now to recognize the silhouette of a door. She grabbed the edge and swung it open, taking a step inside.

The room was incredibly shadowed, so dark it was near impossible to make anything out at all. There was a faint silhouette of a desk, a bookshelf. Maybe two. This wasn't just regular darkness.

It was advanced darkness.

Evanna's traced the surface of the wall, trying to find a switch, a button, anything. She fidgeted a bit farther, feeling a slight changed texture until she hit her knee, a sharp pain rocketing down her calf like a waterfall. She cursed again, loud.

"... Where is that bloody...?" She muttered, stopping when she felt some kind of switch under her fingertips. She flicked it up.

Bright yellow light exploded into the room, flooding the entirety and even outside into the hall. Evanna squinted her eyes hard at the sudden rays from above, gritting her teeth from surprise.

She wasn't the only one in the room who was surprised.

"JUMPIN'-FUCKING-JAHOSAFATS, I'M BLIND! I'M BLIIIIIND!" With a loud Crash! the office chair in front of the desk smashed onto the floor, its sitter spilling onto the carpet like an overly moist Greek yogurt.

He covered his eyes with both hands, curling into a ball on the floor whole muttering over and over under his breath, "I'm blind... blind... bliiind..."

"... Axel? Are you... uh... okay? Evanna reached a hand down, towards her whimpering friend. Upon touching his arm he let out a literal hiss, clamoring forward onto the fallen over chair and curling up inside, like a wounded animal into their cage.

To say Evanna was weirded out would be an understatement.

"... Uh... Axel?" She stepped forward carefully, making sure to not get too close. "You...uh... okay, mate?"

"It's... so bright..."

"Compared to before? Uh yeah, it is..." Evanna craned her head, seeing the bright colors and scantily clad women from on the nearby computer screen. "What... uh... have you been doing?"

"... What?"

"What. Are. You. Doing?" She repeated.

"Oh. Uh... S & S. Y'know, Swords and Sorcerers?"

"... I've heard of it."

"Oh, Evanna, it's... it's so incredible, like oh my God, it's amazing..." Axel said, a blissful grin creeping up his lips. "The gameplay, the open world, the aesthetic, all of it. It's... it's the greatest game ever conceived by mortal men. Nay, after this, the men and women of Froststorm Games aren't just mortal... they're gods. Immortal."

"That sounds nice..." Evanna's bespectacled eyes glanced around the room, noticing empty wrappers and bottles littering the floor under the desk ahead. "Uh.. hey Axel?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have you been playing? S & S, I mean."

"Oh... uh, a couple hours I think?" He snatched his phone off the carpet, double checking the time. "Yeah, like... Maybe a few hours, I think. It can't be anymore than that."

"Why?" Evanna asked.

"I would know. I started playing at 2:30 today and now it's 4:47. And it's Sunday, anyway. I wouldn't miss school."

Evanna raised her eyebrows, like she was confused. "... But Axel, you did miss school."

"What? No I didn't."

"Yes, you did. I haven't seen you in at least a week, so I'm having trouble believing that you just conveniently forgot the ti - "

"A... a week? Axel echoed, grin quickly turning to a frown. "But... that's not possible. It's... it's still Sunday."

"Yeah, it's Sunday. A week later."

Axel's eyes were stuck on his phone screen, staring at the time as if in shock. He didn't say anything for a good moment.

Then, he whispered: "Crap."

"You should stop playing that game," Evanna said, "Maybe then you'd have a better grasp on reality."

"I... I do have a grasp on reality."

"You missed an entire week and didn't even notice it," She said, "I think you might be lying to yourself, mate."

"I am not!" Axel cried, slumping his weight upward to sit up. "You've taken a week off from school once, didn't you? Huh? What makes you any different?"

"I had pneumonia!"

"Pshuh..." Axel scoffed, crossing his arms. "Excuses, excuses..."

"Look Axel, you need help. And, if you're not gonna listen to me... then I'm not gonna waste any more of my time with you." Evanna turned back around the way she came, disappearing out of the doorway before Axel could even realize she just walked out on him.

"Alright, fine!" He shouted at the wall. "I... I don't need your help anyway! Unless you can somehow solve a Level 25 Apothecary Puzzle and get the loot before it despawns which... which I'm sure you can't! Suck on those lima beans and roast 'em!"

He looked down at his hands, them lightly shaking. In a tone barely louder than a whisper, he said, "I'm okay. Axel, you're okay. You don't have an addiction, it's just an...an obsession. That's all. An obsession, alright? You can quit, you can quit anytime you want. Anytime you need."

"..."

"... After one more puzzle."

-~-

" - so brace yourself, kiddos: pop quiz incoming."

Loud and long groans erupted everywhere, to which Mr. Davidson held up his hands defensively. "Hey hey... I know it blows, I do. But this is is state required, so... y'know, pretty dang important."

"Besides, it'll be easy..." He continued, taking a stack of freshly printed papers off his desk. "... if you've done the studying, that is."

Davidson's classroom was big. Bigger than your usual Midwestern high school classroom, anyway, who's thirty or so desks barely filled up half the room. Mr. Davidson gave a couple of sheets to the front of each row, the students  (begrudgingly) passing them to the student behind them, and the student behind them, and so on.

With sheets passing by him left and right, Axel ElRite wasn't paying much attention. Mainly because he was asleep.

From out of nowhere a sheet smacked against his face, the boy's bloodshot eyes shooting open, wide with surprise at first until he looked around.

Davidson classroom. Paper on desk.

'Lang. Arts 4B' the sheet read. 'Lesson 3 Pop Quiz'.

Wait.

Pop Quiz? Oh, crap in a hat.

Axel sighed, picking up a mechanical pencil and squeezing the rubber bit between his fingers.

It's okay, it's just a quiz, Axel thought to himself, loosening his grip. You've got this, man, you got thi -

... Wait, we're studying Austrian history? I thought it was Australian!

Ugh...  it's gonna be a long day...

-~-

"So... uh... how bad did you bomb it?" Weston asked.

Axel's mouth shifted into a hard frown. "Like... on a scale?"

"Yeah, a scale. On a scale of Family Feud hosts, ten being Steve Harvey - obviously - and zero being... uh, let's say Richie... how'd ya do?"

"... Louie Anderson."

"Oh. Shit."

Evanna peered from across the table, clearly confused. "Family Feud? What's that?"

Weston slammed his milk carton on the table, twisting his face into a look of disgust. "You don't know about the majesty, the awe, the sheer brilliance that is the 1976-to-present iconic staple of American history? Ugh, try reading a book sometime!"

"... Isn't it a sodding TV show?"

"Bah, whatever!"

The three students were sitting smack-dab at the end of the farthest (or closest, it depends) table in the Calcheri Valley High cafeteria. One that was the most empty of all six tables, and the most dirty. The two probably went hand in hand.

The cafeteria was like a photograph of high school mediocrity, beige tabletops and floors complimenting the faded reds and blues of the room's accents. Promotional posters of upcoming events and even corporate sponsors (if the large Dwayne Johnson 'Got Milk?' ad next to the garbage cans were anything to go on) were plastered on almost every wall, the entire room alive with the clunking of chairs, the laughter of children, and the faint despair from the nearby kitchens. How beautifully American.

Weston kicked up his sneakers on an empty chair which, well, wasn't hard. There were a lot around. He plunged his fork into a piece of broccoli on his tray, not eating it but just kinda squirming it around, like some sort of veg puppet. "Well, uh, anyway. How's uh... crap, what's that game called? Saints and... uh... no, Swigs and... oh fuck, dude, I don't know. What's that game you like called?"

"... Swords and Sorcerers?"

"Yeah, that's it! Swords & Sorcerers! You're uh... you really like that shit, huh?" Weston asked, digging the blades of his fork deeper into his branched victim.

"Well... I did," Axel said.

"You did?" Evanna asked, leaning up from her seat. "What happened? I thought you were  addicted or something."

"I wasn't addicted, Evanna. I just - "

"Yes, focusing your attention and entire life focus on a single game for 168 weeks - plus! - isn't addiction. Of course not, how foolish of me."

"Yeah, Eve," Weston said, "Don't be stupid,"

She sighed, fingers tight around the nose of her glasses like a facepalm. Weston snickered.

"Look, it doesn't matter anyway," Axel said, "I'm away from it now, like completely."

Evanna chuckled, to which Axel added, "I'm telling the truth! I can't... I can't even use it anymore anyway, so like... hey. That's that, right?"

"What happened?" Weston asked. "You banned or somethin'?"

"Oh God I hope not... look it's... it's not that bad," Axel said, "I wasn't very careful, didn't lock my account good enough and I got hacked, it's no - "

"You got hacked? Seriously?" Evanna asked.

"Seriously. They must of figured out my info or something, I don't know, but now I'm locked out for good," Axel said, "It's... well, it sucks, really."

"What are you gonna do 'bout it?" Weston asked. "Track down the hacker, find their city, job, all of it, and blow them the fuck up?"

"What? No, I wouldn't do that," Axel answered, frowning. "I mean, who would?"

Evanna's eyes immediately went to Weston, who just cleared his throat in reply.

"So what are you really going to do about it, hmm?"

"Well, since I can't get my account back, not easily anyway, I thought I might as well tell a couple of my friends in-game about what happened," Axel explained, "I was the leader a pretty big guild in S&S - they're like, uh, special teams - and if the hacker uses that for their own gain, it can get... uh, messy. So I wanted to clear my name, before they ruin it."

"Cool, Ax. Cool." Weston took a nibble of his destroyed broccoli, asking, "So... how ya goin' to tell them the biz? Facebook? Instagram? Dare I say... MySpace?"

"I have some phone numbers, actually, of some of the other higher-ups in our guild," Axel answered. "I wasn't very close to some of them but there was one, the guy directly below me actually, that I've already called and asked to meet me... like, in person. We're meeting today around... 1:00, I think? I dunno, it's a short day anyway today so I thought - "

"Wait... 1:00? That's in eight minutes," Evanna said.

"Crap in a hat!" Axel cried, clenching his fists. "But I... even if I leave like right now, it'll take me like thirty minutes to get there! So, well, unless the bus is running today, but even then that's like twelve minutes to get there, and considering I don't even have any freaking money I - "

"Dude, here. I'll drive ya," Weston said, "No problemo."

"Really?! But... you don't have your licence yet."

"The cops don't know that."

"Well, I..."

"C'mon dude, it's me! Y'know, Weston, your best buddy? The greatest friend in the whole-freakin'-world? No offense, of course."

"Some taken," Evanna said.

"Well?" Weston leaned close to Axel's face, waiting with (literal) bated breath.

"... Okay. Fine."

"Whooo! A'ight, let's go boy! No time to waste!" Weston practically scooped Axel out of the seat, the far smaller man carrying his friend bridal style across the crowded lunch hall, wailing "WHOOOOOOO!!" at the top of his lungs.

Evanna sighed, taking a sip from a straw. "You'd think I'd have better friends by now. You'd think. You'd think..."

-~-

"He's late. He's not gonna show."

"Give him a second, jeez," Axel said "He's just a couple of minutes late, that's all... give the man a little time."

"Alright, fine..." Weston grumbled.

"..."

"... He's not gonna show."

"Oh, brother."

The two sat in silence, the faint wind brushing through the area was hitting Weston the worst, him constantly smoothing out any knocked-out-of-place hairs on what parts of his cornrows his beanie didn't cover. The two boys were sat (somewhat) comfortably on a wide metal bench, a couple of passersby and a winding array of aging, crusting antique stores their background. There was also a tree, small but sturdy to their right. It was the only flora for what seemed like miles. Hell, probably more.

Weston shifted himself to Axel's side, propping his elbow up and saying, "Look, Ax. If this kid doesn't show up in, like, three seconds, I'm gonna shit."

"Please don't actually do that."

"It's a figure of speech, y'know? Like... eating your hat. Or fucking a truck. Or fucking the milkman."

"I've never heard of any of those things."

"You will." Weston looked deep into Axel's eyes, adding, "Trust me. You will."

"But seriously," Weston said, "If this turns out to be a scam or somethin', I swear I'll fu - "

"Wait! There he is!" Axel pointed forward where, walking off the nearby crosswalk was a tall figure, obscured by a long coat and hat. "There, with the velvet coat and everything!"

"Uh, Ax... I think that's a drug dealer."

"No, it's the guy. The same coat, the same hat... everything's the same as he said it was going to be."

"Alright, fine... but if you get a dimebag we're going halfsies on it, a'ight?" As the coated man approached Weston put his hand on Axel's shoulder, adding, "I'll... uh... let you guys catch up. Later."

Weston jumped off the bench, walking off and disappearing into the oncoming crowds. Axel stood as the man approached, saying in almost a whisper, "PolkaDot1108?"

The man nodded. "LongJacket02?" He asked, putting a weird emphasis on 2, as if shaken.

"Yep, that's me. Is there something wrong?"

"It's just... I didn't expect the leader of the greatest clan in S&S to be... one of my students."

He took off his hat with one slow swoop, letting his long curly hair spill out into the world, along with his face.

It can't be, Axel thought, mind racing, There's no way that my raid partner could be...

It was Mr. Davidson.

The coated man, Mr. Davidson, let out a small sigh.

"Hey, Let's get a coffee or something..." his English teacher said. "You're going to want to be sitting down for this."

-~-

The only coffee shop for miles was a quiet little place called Smol Bean, owned by a couple of young'uns who somehow named their cafe after a meme and surprisingly no one's said anything about it. It was, as the title suggested pretty small, barely big enough to fit half a dozen tables into the shop. And, as the title also suggested, it had beans, or at least the smell of two day old coffee ones. The entire place was lit a little dim and, with practically everything being some shade of brown, black, or just straight up wood, it looked almost like a bar at times (if you squinted just the right way). As its owners were clear internet dwellers, pop culture posters and cutouts lines the corners and halls of the place, enough taped-down memes and movie posters the walls looked like a IRL version of a Tumblr dashboard.

Next to a particularly moist cardboard cutout of Danny DeVito was a single table, where Mr. Davidson and Axel sat across, sipping their various drinks. Axel had an espresso, two shots. Mr. Davidson had a drink that was so long Axel couldn't remember it to save his life.

Axel took a sip, almost cautiously, despite the drink already starting to get cold in his palms. "So... how's the guild going? Y'know, what's the status?"

"It's grim," Davidson replied, taking his own sip. "We've been losing raids left and right, the community mine's gone dry... hell, we've been losing our general resources pretty fast too. I had Pix track the goods back from who sold them and, well... he said it was you."

"I haven't played S&S in, like, a week. I... well, I got hacked," Axel said.

"You got hacked?" Davidson echoed. "Well... um... that definitely makes more sense now."

"What?" Axel asked. "Did... did something bad happen?"

"Well, not quite 'ruin your guild' bad so much as 'ruin your rep' bad but... you were flirting with Jogo, hard. Y'know, that annoying rogue who types way too quickly? You were flirting with her, talking dirty... you even sent her nudes, if you can believe it."

"Nudes? Of me?! How'd they get those?"

"I don't know but... damn. And now, looking back... crap, no wonder she was so freaked out," Davidson said. "If I saw an unfiltered of that under the bridge, I'd probably quit the guild too."

"Ha ha. Funny."

"But seriously, though. They, the fake you, has sold almost all our keeps, all of mounts... hell, he even sold Mr. Jibbles."

Axel looked at him, eyes wide in fear. "No, don't tell me... Mrs. Jibbles too?"

Davidson closed his eyes... and nodded. Axel groaned weakly, like a croak.

"So... do you know who hacked you?" Davidson asked, changing the subject. "Or an idea at least?"

"The only thing I have to go on is the account they linked with mine when they hacked me, but even then... it's completely blank, no name or nothing. Just a purple sugar skull as the icon. I know, it's weird."

"Huh. Well... if you really think about it..." Davidson said, leaning back in his chair, "... Maybe... maybe it's for the best."

"What? Not knowing who the hacker is?"

"No, being hacked in the first place. S&S, it's... it's ruining your life, Axel," Davidson said, "It's consuming all your time, your focus. School too. Hell, you were never very good in my class - nay, you were just straight up bad - "

"Thanks."

"- but even I can tell you that your life is going down a deep, deep Coachella porta potty, and no amount of chorizo mounts are going to get you out of this one, my friend," Davidson continued, "You've got this chance to let this game pass you by, to finally let you free of its addictive, addictive clutches. ElRite... this game was like a disease and your (probably) Mexican hacker your cure. Maybe... maybe it's for the best, you know?"

Axel didn't respond at first. He pondered, staring down at his drink in long thought. He did, however, look up at the English teacher across from him, and said, "... You know what? You're right. You're right, Mr. Davidson!"

"See? I didn't spend all my college funding for Yale on just potato latkes."

"... Potato latkes?"

"Axel, you have a chance to improve your life back to, no, better than what you had before," Davidson said, "Don't waste it."

"Don't worry, Mr. Davidson," Axel said, smiling wide. "I won't!"

-~-

Mr. Davidson's eyes traced the laptop screen in front of him, the bright golds and blues of S&S taking up most of his strangely erotic Yanni desktop. His little avatar, dressed in a long flowing white robe, walked around the cityscape, going from NPC to NPC to gather quests to gather things to gather experience.

I know, compelling stuff.

On the chat window to his bottom right the text was highlighted purple, reading 'GUILD CHAT' in bold letters while various members of the clan talked over a general box. In big white letters, a message popped up, saying:

 NOTICE: LONGJACKET02 HAS LOGGED IN

Davidson rolled his eyes, fingers about to pound a warning to the rest of the guild on his keyboard before another message popped up, reading large:

LONGJACKET02: HAHAHAA

LONGJACKET02: THAT FUCKTRUCK THOUGHT THEY COULD KEEP MY ACCOUNT FOREVER THEY DIDD THEY DID

LONGJACKET02: LITTLE DID THEY KNOW I HAD A SECRET WEAPON A PLAN B A TRUMPPP CARD

LONGJACKET02: PASSWORD RESET BIOTCHHHH

LONGJACKET02: HAHAHAHAHHA

LONGJACKET02: I LIVED BITCH

Davidson couldn't help it, he let out a long, deep sigh.

"Something the matter, Richard?" a teacher from behind him asked, strumming his hand idly on the table nearby.

Davidson didn't respond. He bend over in his chair, pulled open a drawer, and took out a bundle of papers. Nothing on it could be read coherently, except for a name printed in the corner: Axel ElRite. He crumbled the papers together, shoving them into the nearby trash bin.

"Whadd're ya... what are you doing with all those papers?" the teacher asked.

The English teacher couldn't help it. He sighed again.

"One of my student's school career is going down the fucking garbage. I'm just... giving him a head start."