#I was VERY confused when I saw axes with holes

[lidera-aro]

Am I the only one who thought this was what they meant when they said “shoot through twelve axes”? I was confused when I saw twelve axes with holes😭

I just thought it this way since read The Odyssey when I was a child, and this kinda looks more challenging?

Also, drawing is sh/t bc I can’t draw to save my life pls comment if you’re confused/have questions!

[elysianightsss]

I have a request: how would the Techno react if Reader dies but appears a few months later alive but very injured?

Now this inspired me.

Warnings: 18+, angst, suicide mentioned, hints at nsfw, blood, alternate timeline where she was never pregnant; adding Athena and Apollo into this would have made me cry so no. 

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Techno was distraught, it was against his nature to love and be loved and yet you taught him how. You were his everything and more. From the moment you shot him in those woods all that time ago, when the voices went quiet when your face came into his eyesight, everything changed for him.

He loved you more than life itself, so when Phil broke the news to him that you were dead, he lost it. Standing in the living room of the home you had shared together, rage burned through him, his shaking hands ripping, shoving, destroying. By the time he was done, Phil had witnessed something he thought he’d never see.

Techno was weeping, sobbing, screaming for you. A broken man wanting the only thing he couldn’t have. For months Techno barely ate, barely slept, contemplated suicide daily. How could he live without you? Why would he even want to? Without you there was no meaning to his life. It was like a huge hole had been punched through his chest.

The absence of you was everywhere he looked, the little touches you had slowly added to the house over the years. Your perfume, oils and lotions on the white vanity in the corner of the room. Techno remembers vividly, when you had talked about wanting one and he worked for weeks to build and paint one you’d love. He sat for hours carving intricate designs onto the legs and around the mirror just for you.

The wardrobe filled with your clothes, the beautiful materials you covered your body with, he was always envious of them, they got to touch you all the time. Dresses hanging there that hugged your figure perfectly, that made his heart beat faster.

The bathroom filled with your sweet bath oils and bath salts, countless times he had come home from fighting and you drawn him a bath and washed him clean. Countless times had he taken you apart in the sweet smelling waters and steamy room.

The bed was the hardest to deal with, it reeked of you. The mouthwatering smell he wanted nothing more than to roll around in, it was always present when he slept. It was a slight comfort to him, but always left him distraught. He thought about sleeping downstairs but had to remind himself that he had destroyed the couch.

More time passed, around six months now since Phil had told him about your death. He was a hollow shell of himself, he had lost a lot of weight and always had dark bags under his eyes. He was surprised he was still breathing.

“Techno!” Phil had screamed, a dreaded, fear filled, confusion dripping scream. Techno sighed, it took so much energy out of him to simply stand. Feet practically dragging along the floor, he shuffled to the front door sparing a longing look to his axe of peace. Whatever was on the other side of his door was dangerous if Phil’s scream was anything to go by, and he was happy to let whatever it was kill him.

Opening the door and stepping out onto the wood panels just before the stairs that led down to the snow, red cloak and gold crown nowhere in sight, The Blood God isn’t who stepped out to fight, but a broken man ready to die.

That all changed the second he saw you. You who had been dead for six months, you who he had mourned for six months, you who was bruised and covered in cuts with blood dripping from them. You who looked just as starved and exhausted as Techno did, in fact you looked worse.

“Sweetheart?” Techno’s voice cracked as he uttered the term of endearment he hadn’t spoken in so long.

“Tec.” Your voice was small and fragile, your hand reaching for him. The clothes you wore were torn and certainly not enough to keep you warm in the freezing cold snow you had trekked in to get home.

He ran to you, feet moving quicker than they ever had before all so he could take you in his arms and hold you close. “I’ve got you darlin’, I’ve got you, hold on to me.” He used all his strength to help you into the house, Phil running to your aid too.

You took in the state of your home and honestly it was alot better than what you had expected. Glancing at your husband, he avoided eye contact sheepishly, normally it would have made you smile. You don’t even think you know how to do that anymore.

“Let’s uh, get you upstairs.” Phil said awkwardly, helping Techno carry you up into your bedroom, and onto the bed. You sighed in pure relief that you body didn’t have to hold itself up anymore, that you weren’t on a nasty cold stone floor too but the soft, Techno smelling, mattress you had been dreaming of for six months.

You were so happy you cried. You cried ugly, hard, loud. Letting all your emotions out. Techno was there stroking your filthy, greasy hair and holding your dirty, sore hand. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m just so happy, I thought this day would never come. I had convinced myself that it wouldn’t. And yet here I am. Home.” You sobbed out the words, looking at your husband through your tears blurred eyes, just about making out the crooked smile on his gorgeous face.

He wanted to ask what had happened, wanted to know who had done this to you. But just seeing your relief to being in a bed, to being home, he knew you’d need time.

Phil went home after Techno had asked him to, they agreed not to tell anyone you were back until they figured out what had happened to you and by who.

Techno ran you a bath and took extra time and care into washing you off, he had to pull you out of the disgustingly mucky water and run you a new bath. This one you could soak in, allow yourself to relax, even when the clear water did dirty again, only a little this time though.

You saw the look in Techno’s eyes as he washed you and you knew, remembering the vow he made to you all those years ago; “I love you, it took me a while to say it I know. But I need to know you understand—“

“Understand?” You asked.

“How much I love you. I’d destroy empires for you. Pillage country’s for you. Kill for you.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “If anyone ever even thought about hurting you, they’d be dead before they could finish that thought.” He growled, deep from within his chest. The ruby of his eyes shining brighter the more he talked about it.

“I understand.” Of course you did. You knew from the moment you said ‘I do’ exactly what that meant.

“You’re going to kill him aren’t you?” It was a question you knew the answer to but you still felt compelled to ask nonetheless.

“Yes.”

[winterspiderpurrs]

Runaway Bucky who escaped Hydra living in a random forest and staying in an abandoned cabin or something taking care of another runaway Hydra assassin, Peter who grew up in Hydra. Bucky just grabbed him and ran when he fled. Peter doesn’t much or understand the outside world very well and is more quiet than Bucky, but clingy. Just them doing things in the woods and Bucky taking care of Peter

It's been a few months since the asset was able to remove himself and other asset from the facility. Two stolen planes, one helicopter, and hand full of cars. After breaking into a closed mall, they were able to get enough supplies, they hiked for several weeks before coming to a cabin.

The cabin has been abandoned years ago, the stove and sink reminiscent of the early 1900s. It wasn't on any map that he could find, no roads lead to the cabin. He ordered the other asset to secure the place.

Asset known as Spider was younger then him, he was enhanced like himself but his skills set more unique. No limbs amputation, but he did had metal plates secured along his ribs. Each plate had an input slot, where mechanical spider arms could be inserted or where they would hook up the Spider to the chair.

They were trained/ programmed to assess, kill, and survive if they were ordered. Which is why the first seveal days at the cabin they created a protective perimeter around the cabin. Early warning systems of cans and bells to alert them if someone was getting close. Fixed the hole in the roof and fixed the siding in a few places. They cut down a vast amount of trees so they could have firewood. They set traps for food.

But over time, Bucky was amazed at his companion. While he could assess most things, he was confused by others. He was constantly in awe of the nature around them.

" I don't know if I've seen nature like this"

" Asset doesn't sleep on the floor? I get a blanket?"

Bucky knew his companion came to Hydra later and had a young age. He still bore the scars of the early experiments he had to endure. He was a curious creature to Bucky. One time, Bucky brought him back a small trinket. A small lego. And when he saw the bright smile and look of wonder on the Spiders face.

Bucky swore he would do everything he could to protect him. And when the opportunity happened to escape? He did not hesitate in killing the group of men stopping him from gathering his spider up. It was easy to do, as the spider was programmed to take orders and follow the winter soldier at all costs.

" Soldier. What is Christmas?"

Bucky paused mid swing, he was chopping wood with an axe. He frowned and thought

" It is a holiday that gets celebrated in December"

"Oh.... what is a Holiday?"

" It's a day taken to celebrate different occasions"

" Like a birthday?"

" Similar yes."

They worked in silence for a while, the spider placing a log down, Bucky chops it, spider gathers a bundle to stack.

" Soldier"

"Yes?"

" What is a Barnes?"

Bucky drops the axe and turns to stare at the spider. Who looks back at him before his spider points to something on the cabin. Right above the stack of cut-up firewood was a small sign.

'BARNES CABIN'

Bucky stares and stares at the sign. He hears whispers in the back of his mind. Glimpses of images, a younger version of himself, two adults, lots of siblings running around, and a small skinny blonde tagging along. Shaking his head.

" It is... me... my name"

The spider blinks and looks at the sign and then back.

" From before? Before.... the facility?"

Bucky nods.

His spider tilts his head, a look of concentration on his face, before he nods, too.

" I think.... Peter is what I was before... before the facility"

When they first escape, Bucky had to explain to his spider, Peter, now that he was not created in the facility. No, they were both born outside of the facility.

And Hydra... they don't speak the word anymore. There are too many memories triggered by the word. So now they just say the facility. The facility changed them, made them into weapons, and took away their free will.

Took away their names. Took them away and replaced them with The Winter Soldier and much later The Spider.

It started snowing, Bucky walked up to Peter and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

"Let's get inside... Peter. We need to start a fire."

" And have the chocolate hot?"

Bucky chuckles.

" Yes. We can have the hot chocolate drink"

[trafficlife]

Spring Shall Never Come

Martyn always had the feeling that he was missing something, something important to him. He could never put his finger on it... Until it washes up on the shore, along with many repressed memories.

word count: 913

AO3 Link

Shortly after turning red, Martyn's appearance began shifting to express his newfound bloodlust (even though he was planning his birthday party and not any elaborate traps).

The coral and kelp around his head and limbs were overgrown and dried, his hair had grown out—long enough for Scott to braid it for him, and his eyes were crimson red. He looked more like a shipwrecked pirate than anything (which was what he was going for with his white shirt, black vest, and brown leather boots, plus the bandana around his head that kept the coral and kelp in place) but he couldn't help but feel that something was missing.

The feeling haunted Martyn for weeks, ever since he started this game. There wasn't a way for him to describe it, other than ghosts from his past—a past he didn't even remember—haunting him. But it confused Martyn. He was always good at keeping himself on track. He seldom forgot anything important. So what was he missing?

While changing the sand in his hourglass, from yellow to red, he saw something floating in the azure water out of the corner of his eye. After placing the last few grains of sand, Martyn went to check it out. Something red was floating in the water, making its way to the island. He kneeled to pick it up. It was a red cloth that, despite being completely soaked, had no visible threads and appeared very well-crafted.

He wrung out the cloth, the droplets falling onto the sand and turning it into mush, before unfurling it. The moment the cloth fully unwrapped, he felt his entire body jolt, as if he immediately respawned after being killed and losing his time. He threw the cloth aside, scooting away from it in a panic, kicking up sand. His head pulsed, memories rushing through at an uncomfortably fast pace. His heart thumped against his chest, threatening to leave it at any moment.

It can't be. It just can't be!

Slowly, Martyn turned his head back toward the cloth, black tar forming in his stomach. It wasn't just a cloth. It was more important than that. So important, that it returned to him like a pet who found its way back to its owner.

It was the banner of Dogwarts.

For about five minutes Martyn paced around the sand, digging himself a grave as he did so. He had so many questions but all of these new memories provided answers to most of them, which was both relieving and overwhelming.

It explained why axes felt weird to Martyn, making his hands clammy and trembling whenever he grasped them. Subconsciously, he never moved on from beheading his king. It reminded him of the bloodstained Red Winter Axe, of the choker of blood that permanently wrapped around Ren's neck after he respawned.

It explained the feeling of longing in his heart. Ren wasn't present in this game and that subconsciously affected Martyn as well. He had been so loyal to Ren, even in the previous two games, when Ren seemed to have moved on from Dogwarts. That realization made Martyn's heart sink.

Why was he still holding on? In a way, it was Martyn that started the winter. It was Martyn himself who killed Ren. It was Martyn who was responsible for Red Winter. By now, so many years later, it should have ended. The ice should have melted and the flowers should have bloomed.

So why did it feel like Martyn never moved on? Why didn't the flowers bloom for him?

He picked up the banner and carefully shook off the sand, inspecting it. It was still the same, after all this time. A blood-red banner with snow-white triangles at the very edge. There weren't even any loose threads to remove or holes to patch up.

Martyn exhaled sharply. "This... This has to be some sort of silly joke, right?" He chuckled nervously. "I mean, how would this banner come to me, perfectly fine at that? It's been years!" He looked up towards the starry sky. "I mean, it shouldn't even come to this world. This is a different world! But..." He bit his lip as he stared at the banner again.

No matter what, I'm still the hand. I'm still loyal to him. Even if he's not present in this game, I'm still his hand.

Up until this point, Martyn was more of an unguided hand than anything. He had the feeling of longing, of missing something dear to him, but he never figured it out. Now, the answer had come to him. It was sudden and a bit terrifying, but at least now he knew what his purpose was.

He took the banner, folded it once, wrapped it around his waist, and knotted it so it would stay secure. A gentle breeze came, tickling Martyn's skin and blowing through the banner like the sail on a ship.

Now, Martyn felt complete.

Even if Ren wasn't present, even if he moved on from the winter, Martyn would never lose sight of who he truly was.

He was the hand, the most loyal soldier, the one who initiated Red Winter.

But unfortunately for Martyn, he was the only one that was still frozen in the past, with blizzards and frost in his mind. His memories were frozen in place, for all eternity, incapable of melting.

Martyn didn't care all that much. Even though it meant Spring would never come for him.

[justamessedupdisneyprincess]

SHORT ONWARD FANFIC

Lost in the Labyrinth Mall (an Izzyley story)

This is a fluffy slice of life sort of short fic with bits of comedy here and there and perhaps a bit of an adventure as well.

Part 1

Barley had always been wild and reckless. Because of this it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to ruin his clothes during his little adventures. He may have some keen sense of style but overall he did not care much for fashion. If he felt comfortable and looked cool it was enough. It wouldn’t worry him if he wore the same outfit when going out or if there was a little hole here and there. Although those holes can grow…and the already torn thread can tear further apart. He had quite a few shirts that had very obviously seen better days.

One morning he walked out wearing a simple black shirt with a battle axe on it…or what was left of it. There was a rip so large that the bottom of his right pec could be seen! The remains of the fabric blanked around his body but there were very huge holes scattered across. He wore this during one of his “testimonies” against old facilities being torn down and ancient treasures being mistreated.

Laurel’s eyes shot wide when she saw what her oldest son was wearing. It definitely wasn’t that bad last time he wore it, each wash seems to make it worse. “Barley what in the world are you wearing?!” She cried out.

Barley looked a bit confused at first before looking down at himself. “My awesome old battle axe shirt and some jeans?” He says, sounding confused.

Laurel sighs. “Barley, that shirt is unwearable now. You’ll have to throw it out.”

“Throw it out? But I like this shirt!” Barley whined as he lightly pulled at it.

Despite how he made it clear he still saw some value to it, Laurel remained stern. “Barley. It is covered in holes and is all torn up! It makes you look like a homeless person. Worse than that it makes it look like I never take care of you.”

Barley chuckled a bit as he examined the wounds in his wear. “Oh but this adds to the style, mother! A few tears here and there make it look all the more metal. You wouldn’t understand. It’s a whole other level of fashion.” Barley says this jokingly but immediately regretted it after seeing his mother’s horrifying glare. He swallowed a bit as he prepared for the scolding. To his surprise though she managed to calm herself before the storm had hit him. It seemed like an idea popped into her head.

“Well then if you care about fashion so much you should go shopping for some new clothes.” Laurel says. This may seem like an exciting proposal to some but to him it sounded like a chore. He would rather go on another adventure! Not to wonder around looking at clothes all day. He seemed quite taken aback by that response.

“Wha? But I don’t need any.” He says after a pause.

“Yes you do.” Laurel replied with a stern look.

Barley groaned, he loathed the idea of having to go shopping with his mother. He had feared that if he doesn’t go himself then she will watch him like a hawk the entire time they are there. That will take the fun out of everything. “Alright, alright. Fine I will venture into the labyrinth mall and pick up some new clothes.” He had hoped that this would be the end of the conversation. At least if he manages to go himself he can indulge himself in other activities.

“And NO trying to look for ancient treasure.” Laurel added. Barley looked absolutely baffled.

“But MOM! It’s THE labyrinth! Not just A labyrinth but THE labyrinth of ALL labyrinths! Who knows what other secrets could still be buried-“ as passionate as he was, he noticed the look in his mother’s eye. Grown up or not she was still NOT afraid to ground him if need be. “Alright, fine. I will go shopping for some clothes and only some clothes.” He says with a defeated groans. A mischievous thought in the back of his mind. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Laurel however was on to him. “Then we will go together tomorrow morning.”

Barley felt his heart sink. It would just be hours of agony for him! Clothing store after clothing store for hours on end?! “Uh- that won’t be necessary mother! You can totally trust me, y’know!” Barley cried out. “Don’t ya wanna…y’know…take it easy?”

Laurel once again knew exactly what was going through Barley’s head. “Really? To me it just sounds like you’re trying to get me out of the picture so you can sneak off and get into more trouble.”

Barley pouts a bit, he tried so hard to think of some other excuse. Then finally he thought of something. Or rather…someone. She wouldn’t even trust Ian to monitor him due to his timid nature. She wouldn’t let Barley wonder with a friend who has a knack for getting into trouble. But there was a part of Laurel that was a hopeless romantic…maybe…he can convince her to bring his girlfriend along instead. “Actually- I was kinda thinking…it MIGHT actually NOT be so boring if I go shopping with Izzy.” Barley says.

Barley can tell that she was already considering on allowing it. Her expression did not change much but he noticed the subtle signs in her body language. Izzy had also been able to get Barley out of trouble a few times. She was a loving girlfriend but she is the type to tie Barley to a chair and lock him in a cellar if it meant it would keep him from doing something so reckless that it may hurt himself. Although she didn’t mind a bit of mischief here and there but that was something Laurel did not know about at the time. For Izzy it all came down to morals and the well being of her loved ones. Chaotic and curious yet cautious and anxious she was like an odd combination between the two brothers themselves. “Well…I suppose when your father and I were still young we did go shopping together before… I trust she will make sure you won’t get into any trouble.” Laurel says.

Barley looked shocked as she mentioned the word trouble. She always assumed he was in it before he even started to do anything…which was not entirely incorrect as he does tend to be rash. “Hey! You’re supposed to say “It would be such an awesome date” or “You two have fun”!” Barley says, sounding the tiniest bit offended.

Laurel knew her son well though. She knew he was desperate to try and do things other than simply pick up clothes, things that were dangerous and reckless. She knew he was merely trying to find a way to escape her watchful eye. Although she knew all this she did remain calm, calm yet firm. “And I’m sure it would be an awesome date and that she would love to tell me all about it after. But Barley… if I hear any word of you weaselling your way out of this or getting into any trouble you’ll be doing every single chore around the house for a month.”

Barley groaned a bit as he crossed his arms. Frustrated to begin with before he began to think of ways to work around this. ‘No matter…I will just simply tell Izzy not to share any details with her.’

Yet again, it was as if his mother can read his mind. “Oh, and don’t think that Izzy won’t tell me if you’ve misbehaved. She wants you to stay safe and to learn to take better care of yourself just like the rest of us.”

Barley sighs, he was more than just a little annoyed by now. “Yeah, yeah.” He says.

“I think you’ll find you will enjoy it more than you think though, dear. You have fun.” Laurel says as she walks off. Her smile was sweet and friendly in spite of how agitated Barley felt. She gave him a little pat on the shoulder as she wondered past him.

[theradioactivemess]

Archie meets Kritten part 3: Bar fight

By now it had been a good three months sesne the duo had met. They had become very good friends and their days consisted of having fun in the house, planting and gardening crops, and mining. They also loved to go to places they’ve never seen before and explore as well! Over all life was great, one morning though, Archie hears a knock on his door.

A human busts through the door, startling Kritten under the covers who had just woke up. “HAHA! YOU CANT KEEP OLLIE IN THE LOONY BIN FOREVER! Damn Archie who’s that? Did you get a boyfriend while I was gone? Sweet congrats!” “Huh- Wha..?” Archie had just woke up as well, rubbing his eyes. He looks at Kritten who is blushing under the covers, still startled by the kids sudden break in. “What- Ollie- no- they are NOT my boyfriend we literally met three months ago!” “That didn’t stop you from dating that other guy!” Kritten say up and looked at Archie with a kinda sad face, “what other guy..?” He was still very tired haven just woken up. “I- just an ex of mine, and Ollie you shut up! Now what’s really you doing here?” Ollie open a trap door next to the cooler Kritten hadn’t noticed before hand. “Ha- what do ya think short stack? Hiding!” Archie rolled his eyes. “Okay okay, just be careful alright?” “Alrighty then! Bai!” “Goodbye psychopath!”.

Ollie dropped down into the hole and closed the trap door and Kritten was left confused as ever. “He-“ “yeah I know it’s consuming at first but you’ll get to know him better as time goes on! Come on let’s get our days started! HEY OLLIE YOU WANT ANYTHING???” “NAH MAN IM FINE!” “OKAY! Anyways! Eggs?” Archie smiled. Kristen smiled and giggled, “hahaha! Yes please!” Archie got to cooking the eggs as Kritten happily watched.

Later on in the day the sun started to go down and Archie decided to bring Kritten to a local bar with him. “Now listen, they will only let you in becuase You’re with me alright? Because of our size they will I.D us too make sure we’re over 21, so be careful okay?” “Mhm!” They walked into the bar and sat down at the well- bar. The bartender welcomed them both. “Hello Archie! I see you’ve brought a friend with you! Who might you be?” “I-I’m Kritten.” “Nice name! Welcome to the bar, what would you two gentleman like?” Archie held his finger up, “I’d like my usual with the chicken tenders, the honey bbq kind please!” “On it! And Kritten?” “I-I’ll have whatever he’s having.” “Great choice! Archie is a man of taste! I can tell by the way he brung you here! Haha!” Archie almost dropped his money. “THEY’RE NOT MY BOYFRIEND!!!” Archie huffed and the bartender just laughed. “HAHAHAHA- alright then boys what tab will all that be on?” “My tab,” Archie replied. It’s Krittens first time here and he doesn’t have one.” “Okay then! Well I hope you come in more Kritten this place is great when there isn’t any fights!” “F-fights?” “Yeah,” Archie continued. “Sometimes people get to drunk and start a FI-“

Archie is immediately punched off of his chair and is picked up by a piglin. Kritten starred in fear and disbelief. “No..No fucking way you gotta be kidding me!!!” Holding Archie there was Uggub…the one person that Kritten was hoping to never see again. “HA! So YOU’RE the creature that has been giving that runt Kritten sanctuary! Say goodbye to your little boyfriend Kritten becuase you’re coming with me weather you like it or not!” Uggub punched Archie squarer in the face and all Archie could do was bite him till he got off of him. “NO! IM NOT GOING WITH YOU BACK TO THE NETHER WITH YOU! AND GET OFF OF MY FRIEND!“ Kritten gets Involved and runs to Uggub, hitting him with his golden axe. Uggub throws Kritten to the side and continues to beat up Archie. A few others got involved to try and break it up or beat up Uggub, nobody succeeded in stopping the fight until the bartender came out and saw what was happening.

“HEY HEY HEY BREAK IT UP! BREKA IT UP! YOU. PIGLIN BRUTE GET OUT!!!” “What-?” “GET OUT! I DONT EVER WANNA SEE YOU HERE AGAIN!” Uggub ran out and Kritten immediately got on his knees to check on Archie who was almost passed out on the floor. Archie try’s to sit up only for his head to fall on Krittens lap. “Oh my- Archie are you okay…?!” “Y-Yeha man who- who the hell was that..?” “That’s sad Uggub…I’m so sorry I didn’t know he’d be here..!” Kritten is nearly in tears and Archie reached to to rub his cheek. “There there now buddy it’s not your fault…” the bartender walks up to them, “Are you two okay? Would you still like your food and drinks?” Kritten replies: “I-I’d like mine yes- What about you Archie?” “Sure..” “okay then. You need to rest so I’ll just get you some wa-“ “No! I want my usual drink!” “Okay damn-“

As Kritten and Archie sit at a booth finishing their food Kritten holds Archies hand and looks at him. “Hey there Archie you feeling any better?” “Ugh..sort of~” Archies head fell on Krittens shoulder. “Ohh boy, you surely are drunk aren’t you?” Oh yeah~ heheheeheheheeee~!” Archie purred and scooted closer to Kritten, putting his arm around his waist. Kritten flinched for a second before sorta melting into it. He calmed down and let Archie hold him there. “So sweetie~ how we doin tonight~?” Archie I closer to Krittens face. Kritten scoots back a little bit away from Archie blushing, not sure what to do. “I must say…heh- you do look- *hic* very handsome~” “I-I-I-I- thank you-! I-“ Archie planted a little kiss on Krittens cheeks before eating the rest of his chicken and grabs the piglins hand to leave.

Archie just flirted more on the way home, Kritten was a blushing and confused mess and wasn’t to sure as of what to do besides to get Archie home and in bed. They get home eventually, Kritten helps Archie take his coat and boots off, getting him into bed and under the covers. Kritten joins him and turns to face the wall like usual when he feels Archies arms wrap around his body. “H-huh-“ “shhh…just sleep Krit.~..” “o-okay..!” Kritten blushed even harder, but he fell asleep eventually…

The next morning Archie woke up with a Terrible hang over, so that morning Kritten cooked breakfast. The whole morning Kritten felt an odd feeling of butterflies in his stomach remembering last night, Archie seemed to pick up on it though when Kritten sat his breakfast down in front of him and asked: “Hey Kritten you okay? You seem rather shy this morning. Are you still shook up Becuase of the fight last night?” “W-well yes but- no..y-you see uh- hehe- after the fight you got really drunk and..” “and what? Oh lord I didn’t hurt anyone did I?!” “What-?! No! You- we were finishing our food and you started to flirt with me..you kissed my cheeks and told me how handsome I was, you continued the behavior as we walked home! Even when I tucked you in, when I got in the bed you cuddled me to sleep.” Archie was shocked, he had a very blurry memory of what happened but he wasn’t fully aware of what he was actually doing. “O-oh shit man I am SO SO sorry if I made you uncomfortable- hey man listen if I ever pull some shit like that again just push me off and shit me up some how okay? I’m super sorry-“ “it’s okay..! You don’t make me uncomfortable at all, you just..surprised me is all hehe..” “o-oh, well okay then. What I said still goes though, if I ever make you uncomfortable PLEASE tell me to stop cause I don’t wanna make you feel that way EVER.” “Thank you Archie, and I will make sure to do that…” Kritten crawled up on the bed and next to Archie, leaving his head on Archie’s shoulder as Archie ate. Archie chilled and just kept on eating his breakfast.

[katielovably]

I made a AU... I think.

Tommy glared at he's foe of almost three years on he's knees, cornered.

Threw the eye holes of the mask, Tommy could see Dream looked at the axe at neck then him, Tubbo standing behind Tommy. He's eyes then went to the group of people he's only companion brought threw the portal.

You don't have to do this, Tommy. We're friends. Dream said.

No we're not, Dream. We never were. You used friendship as a tool. I'm not  falling for it ever again. Tommy said bitterly.

Tommy brought up the the Axe.

I have the revive book! I can bring anyone back from the death! Dream said to slip out of the situation but Tommy brought the axe down already. Dream man to lean back enough for the axe to splitting the mask.

"Dream" managed to hide his face with his arm.

Tommy froze staring at brown hair and the familiar facial features.

He wasn't kidding.

Wilbur?! You... for how long were you? Tommy didn't know what to say he stepped back to Tubbo's side as he lowered his arm. Showing the cut on the brim of he's noise from the axe impacted the mask.

He's eyes usal brown eyes had a green around them.

Sam laid a hand on the two boys before walking up and taking him away.

So if Wilbur was under the mask then.... Tubbo's voice faded as Tommy looked back at Sapnap who watched Wilbur get taken away his face showed how confused he felt. Watching a man's brain shatter. Sapnap slowly back against the wall hugging himself.

Tubbo watched. I'll talk to him. Tubbo said but Tommy took his arm and brought him back.

Sapnap? You ok? Punz said they looked at him.

As fine as finding out one of your friends who you thought were alive but actually died by getting stabbed by Philiza. I'm just peachy, Punz. Sapnap said hugging himself.

Want to go back? Puffy said.

Very much so... but nobody tells Karl or George. Ok. I want to do it when I can actually figure it out and answer questions. He said softly.

Awe. She and Niki said and hugged him slowly causing everyone to get in a group hug around him.

Hey... ssh! Tubbo said to Tommy and hugged him.

Well, it wasn't the same but Tommy sighed and hugged him back.

Come on you two. Punz said said leading everyone back.

Tommy and Tubbo hurried to catch up to the group threw the portal they had entered moments before.

Tommy could see Sapnap walking with Puffy, head hanging, her hand rubbing his back as they walked.

Do you think he's ok? Tubbo said.

Why is everyone concerned for him when I have the same feelings? I been fighting my brother. Wilbur was blowing up my stuff. Wilbur made my life hell meanwhile Dream was at my side. How didn't I notice! I mean Wilbur looks nothing like Dream! Tommy said holding himself.

Tubbo gave him a look I mean he was kind of hiding his face with he's scarf. He said.

But they don't sound anything like the other! Ooo! My head hurts. Tommy said.

I don't know... wasn't his eyes glowing. What's that about? Tubbo said.

Who cares, Tubbo. He's where he belongs now I guess. Tommy said as they entered the portal home.

Um, thank you again, everyone. You did amazing work back there. Tommy said trying to smile.

He was soon in a group hug as Sapnap snuck away to look for a ghost.

There has to be a reasonable reason for this.

If I were a ghost Dream where would I be?

Sapnap trtrying to think like Dream. Trying everything to figure out where to go.

He walked down the prime path pausing looking at the community house.

No, it can't be that easy. The first building we ever built. He said walking to it.

Dream? He said looking around going up stairs.

Dream? Sapnap said looking around before sighing looking at the large tank Bekerson once called home. He climbed the steps looking over side.

Where are you, Dream? I just want to know why you two even thought about this. When you did switched places with Wilbur? Why? He said softly looking down into the tank.

It just makes no sense but I know what we saw. He said. Hello? He heard and jumped looking up at the ghost of his best friend in his green hoodie with the stab where he was killed visible but he smiled holding out blue dye to him.

You look like you... you idiot.  Sapnap said trying to hug him but being a ghost it was like trying to hold a project image but he didn't care.

Sapnap? Dream said.

Yes, I'm Sapnap buddy. Why?Just why to all of this. Sapnap said whipping tears away.

The server? Dream said tilting his head.

No, did you want to die? He said.

I'm sorry, Sapnap. I don't have much memory on what you're  looking for. I remember all the fun we had. Have some blue.The ghost said as placed the blue dye in his hand holding his hand around it.

I know I wasn't going down a good path besides I'm happy now. I have friend my blue sheep to keep me company and i make people happy now, Sapnap. When I see them happy it makes me happy. I

Rather be this the villain of my own server, Sapnap. I know your hurt confused and you have every right to be but I'm ok. Dream said holding his friend's face.

Tears trickled down Sapnap face.

You could have just said you weren't happy. He said softly.

I know. But this was the only way I could be free from the

path I was heading. Sapnap, you knew I was becoming a bad person and got George away. He said stroking thetears away.

I know. I have no memories of anything I did. I am free from all the bad I apparently done to the server. He said.

So you knew Wilbur would die and switched with him. Sapnap said softly.

I don't know. Dream said.

Sapnap wanted to get mad.  WHO DOES?! Who could give him the answers he was looking for.

Sapnap knew yelling at a ghost wouldn't help.

Is the blue not helping? Dream said softly almost concerned.

I just want answers. Because if I told George this he would be like I am now... probably hunt you down. You know  how impatient george is. Because I want to yell at you. But I won't. Sapnap said. Drem looked down. I don't  want my friends to be mad. I wish I had the answer for you both but I don't. Sorry. Dream said softly.

I know. Sapnap said as his friend held him close.

Tears trickled down theghosts face making a sizzling sound making him scared

I shouldn't be crying. Phil says I'll melt if I touch rain or cry. I don't want to melt, Sapnap! The ghost said trying to stop the tears with everything he could think.

Then don't cry, idiot. Sapnap said trying to help he's friend.  Making the ghost laugh making him smile.

Why didn't you come find me or George? Sapnap said.

Why do you think I'm here? This is the only place I know you  were. We made this place so why wouldn't you be here? Dream said still sniffing. We left. We made our own kingdom if you wanted to see it and call it home. Sapnap said trying (terribly) to comfort his best friend by stroke his back but his hand would go threw the ghost making him laugh.

Stop that tickles! Dream said laughing.

Laughing, Dream's laugh always was sorta a part of his character no one can laugh like Dream but it's always from the stupidest and funniest things George, Bad and him says. There was nothing like it exspesally after so long. It sounded so pure and genuine. It was like old times.

Wilbur is in jail. Sapnap said leaning against the wall.

What? Why? The ghost said.

He went to this bunker with  Tubbo and Tommy. Punz rounded alot of us up to help them and Tommy broke the mask revealing ... my mind spiraled after that because all I thought was true isn't. I wmean I'm glad your not in prison but still it felt like a soccer punch to the gut to find out you have been dead this whole time yet your name is better off being a curse or... Sapnap said growled holding himself on the floor where he slid down the wall.

The ghost watched his friend before sitting beside.

It's ok to be mad, Sapnap. It's ok to want to go back to defend me but you didn't know. Nobody did. It may feel like you're getting laying in lava burning but the rain will come to put you out but until then you're feelings are valid, Pandas. He giving a smirk and a nudge to his friend making Sapnap smile.

Your saying makes no sense. I was born in fire, in the neither remember. He said.

Uck, I'm trying to comfort you. The ghost groaned making Sapnap laugh. He wanted time to freeze at this moment.

Oh- no, Phil and Techno is probably worried about me. I should return to them. Um, I'll think about joining you and George. I'll see if I can bring friend with me because he's all I got right now. , what else... take a few days to rest you look like you might need.

Anyway bye, I love you and George. The ghost said before disappearing.

Sapnap couldn't process what happened, it was to fast.

W...wait! Come back! Please come back! Sapnap pleaded feeling tears reappearing in his eyes.

I... I need you to tell me if I should tell George or not. He said.

He waited just in case he returned but the ghost didn't.

Sapnap return to Kinoko Kingdom.

Hey, Sap... you ok. It's  late. Karl said looking up from where he was reading.

Sapnap looked up at his fiancé .... could he even tell his own partner what he witnessed?

Sapnap? Karl said closing the book to give his fiancé his full attention.

You can't tell George. Sapnap said after a long silence.

Karl crossed his heart.

Wilbur and Dream switched places before the dead of "Wilbur" and the appearance of "Ghostbur".  I don't know and he doesn't know. He seems happy... but that feels wrong. He should be with George and I. Sapnap said whipping tears away.

Karl stood, sat on Sapnap's lap and held him and comfort him.

Sapnap cracked and cried into Kara's neck. Tears shaking the shoulder of Karl's hoodie.

I know it's ok. Karl said holding his partner close.

"Take a few days to rest you look like you might need."

Sapnap feel asleep, his head resting on Karl's shoulder.

Karl held him until he realized that he was asleep and carefully laid down Sapnap after managing to slid himself away.

After covering Sapnap in a blanket, Karl laid beside him and snuggled against his protector.

It was almost like a treat to see that side of his partner.

Sapnap was the guy that acted tough but he really was soft at times. Both of those reasons are why Karl has the black ring with "Sapnap" with engraved in it on the ring was a small stone that looks like it houses lava or fire with in it. The other was Quackity's ring, a gold ring with a blue diamond with a duck on it.

Karl managed to find Sapnap's hand and held it before forced his hand to hold him before going to sleep, his head under Sapnap's chin.

[digi-dest-stories]

since "zardy's maze" sequel has come out ((check "super horror bro"'s youtube channel)) how would would be like if a fem! farmer tamer and her wizardmon noticed that after they went to live at farm they inherited from her relative; and sees that not only the farm has a strange weed problem but most importantly, her other partners (sorcermon, flame wizardmon, lopmon, terriermon, meicoomon, mikemon, dorumon, renamon, and lunamon) disappeared and they heard screaming and lunamon and the others being lured then being kidnnaped by "strange humanoids";

and now the duo must save the others, investigate the secrets of the farm, know why and it seems for some reason the scarecrows are less aggressive towards wiz, like if they think that he might be one of them because of his appearance and after Zardy took a closer look at his face.

I did watch Zardy's Cave recently! Not all of it, but I'll do my best

Also, since I feel like FlameWiz + Sorcer also resemble them (especially FlameWiz, since from what I've seen he seems to fit in with them a lot) they would get left alone like Wiz

Everyone was completely fine with it, at first. The farm was wide and spread out, meaning that everyone had a lot of space for themselves, to make and grow their own crops if they wanted

The only problem was the weeds. They weren't that much of a problem at first, but quickly grew to be one give how many there were

It does get very concerning once the other Digimon go missing. At first, the others try to brush it off as them getting lost or just going out without telling anyone. But, when people try to go find them, they just end up going missing too...

Luna was the last straw, especially when the DigiDestined and the remaining Digimon could hear her screams as she was getting nabbed

FlameWiz shot off like the rocket he was and everyone else basically followed his flames. The DigiDestined grabbed a weapon - An ax - that was trapped in the weeds somewhere, that Wiz had helped loosen with a spell

A lot of obstacles get skipped because of the Digimon's general abilities lol. She does have three magic users on her side - Even if she was somehow separated from FlameWiz and Sorcer, Wiz still has his own magical abilities that makes things easier

Meeting Zardy is a bit jarring. When he first saw the group, he seemed a bit surprised by the Witchelny trio. Like gives them a confused little frown and head tilt, looking at all of them

Which was a mistake, because then the group scatters to the wind. So he chases after the DigiDestined, which leads to her falling down into a hole that she tries to navigate out of after meeting with Wiz

And that's where I stopped watching the video. May add more later!

[arthrobug]

Okay so here's the context

Ish's newest Civilisation Event was announced in his Discord, and I badly wanted in, a week later I actually got in against all odds

Quick thing, both me AND my mother were insanely excited and started screaming when I got accepted and she would check up on me every day asking if I had gotten in

This event is meant to be a SOCIAL, ROLEPLAYING, MINECRAFT EXPERIMENT, aka you're supposed to have fun, realize it's a game, and be kind to people

First few days were calm I'd say, sometimes boring as hell, but calm

Then my mother was admitted into the ER three times in one week, and even right now she's still in the hospital for three days straight.

It was Day Five of the event when she first went in, and I was really worried about my mom, and some stuff about me:

1. I'm kinda dumb and I get even dumber when I'm thinking about other things and I'm worried

2. I'm bad at english even though it's my native language

3. I have REALLY bad social anxiety, and it gets worse when I'm nervous or I don't know people... Surprise surprise

The leader of the civilization I had regretted joining (because there are two islands and I wanted to join the absolute hellscape island but my old group is honestly just a bunch of angry cowards and wanted to join the paradise island, not being nice) had announced in the Discord there was going to be a meeting in the city hall in regard to the recent assassinations, and the group I was a part of was going to stay by the front stairs to guard it, but my dumb brain was on

Before I joined the day by the way, I was having a really bad feeling and didn't feel like playing, but I ignored it cuz I wanted to know what was going on (curiosity killed the cat lol)

I thought "I should patrol around the area before waiting by the stairs to make sure no one's trying to break in or talkin nefarious plans!"

Then I faintly heard one of the council members talking about how they're nervous to be killed, and how someone was apparently holding a sword inside

I'm autistic and don't get jokes,,,,,, and my dumb brain was on

So I started digging around the area, really close to the hall, looking around the area before the meeting started, listening to the council, and since I didn't want to get seen, I was crouching

I got a text on my phone so I left the hole I made to check it, and apparently some guy saw me go back in crouching

He took this as "oh my god someone's trying to break into the city hall"

I occasionally heard some digging around me after that, but I took it as some other people doing the same as me, and I was busy checking my phone

I eventually left the hole, and apparently he might've been trying to get my attention while I was walking away? But another thing about me is that I'm Hard of Hearing and this is voice chat in a video game and I'm very distracted

Eventually after checking and texting my mom, making sure she's okay and everything, I go wait by the stairs for a bit

I'm honestly admiring the build before I'm suddenly attacked by a screaming guy with an axe and everyone panics

He immediately starts yelling out "GET THE FUCK BACK YOU FUCKER, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU FUCK" like way unnecessarily aggresively

Everyone's asking what's going on, and he says "this fucker/piece of shit (I was disoriented and confused don't know exactly) was trying to break into the city hall!" And I was too scared and confused to say anything disputing that at that very moment so I just walked away

I walk away further, already crying a little cuz well I'm an autistic minor that has their dying mom on their mind and well that was the breaking point, when some other guy comes over, and asks where the lumber yard was. I try to help him, and I actually do calm down a little from this short interaction, B U T

THE FIRST GUY EVENTUALLY CHASES ME DOWN AND CONTINUES SWEARING AND ACCUSING ME OF TRYING TO BREAK IN

Then the second guy stood behind me while rooting on the first, (I will admit the second guy was acting less douchy though) and the first guy kept cutting me off, and I know for a fact at one point I accidentally left my mic on while I sobbed for a moment

When you hear someone crying this bad, YOU DON'T CONTINUE TO BERATE AND THREATEN THEM, you stop and ask them if they're okay and if you're going too far

Yeah that guy didn't give two shits, fuckin jackass

He twists my words around as I'm fumbling, until at one point I'm just silent because I don't know what to do

Then the second guy says something about the back of my skin...? (My skin is something I call 'Golden Tarantula', I customized my regular one just for the event)

They start laughing, while one of them says something about how one of my eyes is bigger than the other

I say "huh?" because I'm understandably confused where they making fun of my skin all of a sudden, and the first guy changes his demeanor back to 'piece of shit' and tells me to 'stay the fuck away from city hall or you get no warning' (what warning by the way?- he was just screaming and accusing me of stuff)

They leave and I genuinely sit in that one spot, sobbing and screaming and pacing for a solid 40 minutes, begging for my mom to be okay and considering if I should just kill my character to stop playing (I indeed was that panicked)

I had a soda, and after I had calmed down for a moment, I took a swig, when I suddenly had another sob in my throat and I instantly felt the very real urge to vomit, I have no clue how I kept it down

I continued crying in spurts for the -I'm not joking, I checked- next SEVEN HOURS.

My sibling suggested I report the guy, but being socially inept, I didn't and still don't know if I would be listened to, since later that day I saw more jerks telling someone in chat that if they didn't shut up they would kill them

The next day was a build day and I didn't join, fuck that. I was so scared of running into that guy again that I put an announcement in the Discord chat that I had a medical emergency and I couldn't deal with the rude people anymore (I actually saw earlier in the chat a leader of a group calling out some people making fun of their people and build)

Everyone was luckily kind and supportive, wishing well for my mother (she's not as bad as she was a few days ago by the way)

Everyone else I had run into that day (three other people) were all luckily kind and soft spoken, and I don't know if that was just them or they could tell I wasn't doing so good

I had run away to other settlement to maybe restart and stay as far as I could from that guy and that civilization, when the second guy I ran into and hat a chat with decided to to contact the leader of the civilization I had ran from to 'check if I was a criminal'

I was nervous, but I knew that if she did dub me as a wrong-doer I could just continue running. She didn't though! She didn't? I would think that guy (who said he was the council member representing the resource district) would've reported me, but he didn't...??

I think he said she told him she had no clue what was going on, and I told him I was just going to continue traveling, since the first guy I ran into was also visiting and had told me his civilisation was building a bridge between islands and I wanted to get the fuck outta my island lmao

The day after the build day, yesterday, the leader of my old civilisation announced a few things, but one caught my eye

"____ has stepped down from his position as the Resource District manager. The position is open, etc etc"

He stepped down?? That cocky bastard????

So, I've naturally assumed he got in trouble of some kind cuz that's too weird for my taste lmao

That's what happened for anyone that wanted context! The event is still going on, hope nothing else wacky happens lmao, if this is confusing to read sorry I just woke up and I gotta get ready to visit my mum at the hospitalll, have a nice day/night everyone 👍

I really hate toxic gamers who find making other people cry and almost vomit fun

[dmwrites]

The first few days back after finishing the life series was always a bit jarring. Impulse had been through this three times now, but this last time had been especially… odd. He didn’t like feeling odd. So he went back to old habits, and threw himself into his work. Spent two full days digging at his diggy diggy hole, reinstalled the entire storage system three blocks to the left, polished the sea lanterns until they shined.

“Impulse…”

It took Gem literally waving a hand in front of his face for him to notice her presence.

“Oh! Hi Gem! What’s up bud?” Impulse smiled at her, moving and realizing just how sore he was- how long had he been leaning against his shovel and staring at the opposite wall?

“When is the last time you slept?” Gem crossed her arms.

Impulse frowned, trying to remember the number of times he’d seen the moon come up. “Dunno… a couple of days?”

“It’s been a week, Impulse.”

“Oh.” Impulse put a hand to his chest. “Well, you know how server travel goes.”

“yoU KnOw hOW serVEr TRaVeL gOeS.” Gem mimicked him, rolling her eyes. “I can excuse a couple days of confusion, I mean you just got back from dying in the Life series, and that’s what I told myself, but you and Pearl have both been handling it badly! Maybe if you two talked to each other you could, like, get over the fact that she killed you or whatever.”

Impulse’s fingers wandered absentmindedly across his chest, just kind of playing with the fabric of his shirt. “It wasn’t Pearl who killed me.”

“Well then go talk to whoever did.” Gem retorted. “Get your closure and then go to sleep. I miss soup group shenanigans.” Without another word she took off, maybe to avoid Impulse’s story of his death, which he had just been about to tell. Ah well.

Impulse went back to digging, hacking away at a gold ore, fully intending on ignoring Gem’s suggestion, but, just as annoying as she was, he kept thinking about the axe buried in his chest, the shock of who had put it there, and the darkness.

It was approaching another night, and Impulse put down his pickaxe and flew out of the hole. He flew past Pearl’s alien landscape, saw a huddled figure in blankets sitting under a mushroom. He’d talk to her too, after this perhaps. He held nothing against Pearl, never had and never would. So proud of the champion.

Impulse landed on the stairs of Bdubs’ diorite tower, which was alive with activity. He could hear someone, Etho he was sure, hitting something with a hammer in the basement. Far above was Ren’s doghouse castle thing- Impulse could see lights on.

“Impulse?”

Impulse turned to find the very man he’d been looking for standing on the staircase right inside, dressed in literal striped pajamas and a nightcap.

“Hey Bdubs.” Impulse felt for his chest on instinct.

“What on earth are you doing here so late?” Bdubs’ eyes flicked to Impulse’s hand and then up to his eyes. “I was about to go to sleep.”

“Can we talk?” Impulse asked.

“For a bit, but I really gotta get to sleep.” Bdubs gestured for Impulse to follow him up the stairs. Impulse climbed in silence, just kind of looking at the back of Bdubs’ head and that stupid nightcap. He’d been putting off seeing Bdubs ever since he got back, and it was almost odd to see him like this, all normal and whole again.

“So, whatcha wanna talk about?” Bdubs gestured to a chair in the corner of his bedroom.

Impulse sat. “Well, about double life, honestly. It’s kinda weird to be back, isn’t it?”

“Kind of.” Bdubs sat on top of his bed. “I just got so much to do here, it’s more been a matter of oh yeah that happened anyways. You probably feel the same way, you little dwarf guy.”

“So you’re adjusting well then?” Impulse asked, wondering why he was talking like this, like Bdubs was a simple causal acquaintance.

“Oh yeah, it’s been the easiest adjustment yet.” Bdubs said. “Just keep thinking I’m gonna get phantom damage every once in a while, which is weird to get un-used to. What about you?”

Impulse played with his shirt. “Oh yeah, well, it’s been-”

“Why do you keep doing that?” Bdubs interrupted, mimicking Impulse’s hand on his chest. “What’s that about?”

“I- I don’t know. I guess its kind of involuntary, in a way. It’s where the axe was buried into me.” Impulse let out a long breath.

Bdubs frowned, kind of looking up towards the ceiling in deep thought. “What do you mean? Pearl killed me, she never touched you.”

Impulse’s hand rubbed quicker against his chest. “It was a weird and confusing fight, but, uh, you accidentally hit me with your axe instead of Pearl. My death message said you killed me.” Impulse pointed at his chest.

“Oh.” Bdubs frowned. “Dang. Really?”

“Yeah.” Impulse leaned forward slightly.

“Well, sounds about on brand for me, jeez lewis.” Bdubs laughed. “Impulse, we really were a couple of dunces, weren’t we? I can’t believe I killed you! Whoops! Lol.”

Impulse smiled, and it felt like paper folding into unpleasant shapes. “Yeah. Whoops.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me.” Bdubs shifted, getting under his blankets. “That sure is something huh? Now, Impulse, love ya to death and all that, but a beauty needs his beauty sleep. Do you mind blowing out the candles as you’re leaving?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sure.” Impulse stood up, kind of thrown by the abrupt end of the conversation. He moved to the door as he’d been asked, blew out the candle, then stopped dead, turning back around. His mouth worked out several different phrases, none of which ended up leaving his throat. “It’s nice to see you again, Bdubs.”

“You too Impulse. We’ll have to go out for a horse ride sometime soon.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Impulse closed the door behind him and started down the stairs. He felt heavier then when he’d came in, somehow. He grasped as his chest as if he could stop the gaping hole from swallowing him whole.

It didn’t register with Impulse until he was at the ground floor of the monolith, perhaps too distracted before, but the racket Etho had been making had ceased at some point. And there was the man himself, leaning against the door leading down to the basement.

“Hi Etho.” Impulse tried to smile at him.

“Hey there, lover boy. Still got double life on the mind?” Etho’s voice almost held a chuckle in it, and something else Impulse couldn’t put a finger on.

“You called me that name in the games, Etho. I’m back to regular old Impulse again. The games are over.” Impulse told him.

“You sure about that? They don’t seem to quite be over for you just yet, lover boy.” Etho walked forward and gently, more gentle then Impulse had ever seen him, pulled Impulse’s hand away from his chest. It hurt. It all hurt.

[helliontherapscallion]

sibling hybrid!creeper reader headcannons/one-shot for SBI ( + ranboo? 🧍‍♀️ ) hurt/comfort. like maybe the reader struggles with emotions and doesn't know how to deal w/ them healthily, so they end up bottling them up and kinda explode at times.

sorry if this is too specific, i just really like your writing :) congrats on 1k!! <3

and one last thing,.. can i be 🫂 anon?

(A/N): I had a lot of fun with this one, and thank you : ) I hope you don’t mind that I added Tubbo. Also one more thing, I imagine the explosion is kinda like a Bakugou situation but uncontrollable

Warnings: anti-hybrid rhetoric/slurs (speciesism???), swearing, blood (not much, just mentions of a nose bleed)

It was completely an accident this time, it all just came so fast. You were standing in front of a store window when you felt something rub against your leg. When you looked down, panic engulfed your entire being when you saw an orange cat rubbing and nuzzling against your leg, letting out deep purrs. You had no clue why this cat wasn’t chasing you like all other cats usually did, but you didn’t want to ponder. You felt the familiar pressure building up inside of you as a startled hiss left your mouth and you jumped away from the creature. Your skin was sparking and popping as your freckles lit up in a glowing green light. 

Finally, explosions left your skin as the glass shattered next to you and gravel was turned up and thrown about. You fell to your knees and rubbed at your burning eyes and wiped the blood from your nose. Exploding like that had always taken a lot out of you and made your nose bleed. You suspected that it was because of the sudden build up and release of pressure and energy. 

The back of your shirt was grabbed and you were yanked off from the ground. There staring at you was the owner of the shop that you accidentally blew up. His green eyes were ablaze as he gritted his teeth and looked into your eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?! You blew up my window!”

Small hisses left your mouth, “I-I’m sorry sir I swear I didn’t mean t-”

“Like hell you didn’t! Your kind always destroys everything!”

You stopped struggling and narrowed your eyes at him, “my kind?”

“Yes, hybrids! Filthy mutts, all you do is destroy! You’re a bunch of freaks.”

You could feel another explosion coming about and this time you did not even attempt to hold this one back. You stared him dead in the eyes with the harshest glare you could muster. As soon as the hisses started to leave your mouth and the freckles once again glowed green, the man’s eyes widened before he threw you into the street away from the building. Another explosion left you and disassembled the neat cobblestone of the road. A single stone flew and shattered what was left of the store window. Another flew and hit the store owner in the head knocking him out. 

And here you were now; hisses left your mouth as you ran down the beaten path of the village towards the exit. The iron golem following you was hot on your tail, it’s booming footsteps picking up dust clouds from the gravel. Villagers around you scattered and started to whisper fearfully amongst themselves. You could feel their fearful and angry stares burning holes through you. After you got out of the village and the iron golem was still chasing you, you ducked into the forest where you knew it wouldn’t follow you. You climbed up a tree and watched as the golem angrily smacked the foliage out of the way before it gave up and hobbled back into the village. 

You dragged your feet tiredly back home, wanting nothing more than to collapse in your bed. Your senses were on overdrive as you were hyper aware of everything around you. You’ve never exploded twice within the span of ten minutes before, and it wore you out. Small exhausted hisses left your mouth as you trudged along the path. 

After getting home you walked past a confused and concerned Wilbur, dodging his hands that were trying to grab you so he could get a better look at you. You walked up the stairs ignoring his questions and walked past Tommy.

“Hey sparky, what’s got you lookin like shit?” He asked you before he started to laugh to himself at the nickname he knew you hated. You winced at the volume of his voice before you hissed angrily and stomped off into your room before you passed out immediately in your bed the second you threw yourself onto it. 

You didn’t wake up until a hand shook you awake firmly. You peeled open your eyes to see Tommy hovering over you looking slightly scared. When you fully opened your eyes, he sighed in relief.

“Oh my fucking Ender, I thought you died for a second.”

You only groaned and covered your head with the covers trying to block out the morning light streaming into your room and Tommy’s voice. He shook you more, your entire bed shaking with it. “Get up. Dad wants you downstairs for breakfast cuz you skipped lunch and dinner.”

You said nothing as he ripped the covers off from you eventually and pulled you out of your bed. You landed on the floor with a thump and hissed a little in frustration. You stood up and pushed him out of your room and slammed the door behind him. The locked door handle jimmied before it stopped and everything was silent. You prayed that he went away, but alas he didn’t. You rubbed your forehead when he started to knock at your door in multiples of two.

Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock kno-

“I’ll be down in a minute fuckface. I’m gonna get dressed.”

“If you aren’t down in five minutes I’m getting Techno. He’ll carry your ass down.”

Downstairs, you shambled into the kitchen past the table and poured yourself a cup of coffee. Your family silently watched you before the conversation started back up again. You plopped down next to Wilbur and sipped at your coffee deliriously. He eyed you in concern, “you okay?” You hummed and poked at your eggs. You didn’t feel hungry at all. “You su-”

“Yes, I’m sure Wilbur.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and returned to your coffee. After your fourth cup of coffee you were cut off by a concerned Philza. Even after four cups of coffee, you still felt slightly physically drained and it showed in your sluggish movements. Your day went by with you holding in your frustration and anger from everybody constantly asking if you were okay. Days of holding in explosions passed with them finally leaving you alone. However, that did nothing to alleviate your bottled up frustrations.

Techno was sitting on the couch reading a book while Wilbur was sitting in the chair across the room trying to find the lyrics of his next song. Philza was in the kitchen doing who knows what. You were currently walking up to Tommy’s room to say hi to your old friends Tubbo and Ranboo after getting home from a trip to another village. 

That trip was rough for you but not as rough as the one a few days prior; you could only stand so much fear filled and hateful staring after all. Your creeper features consisting of pitch black irises and dark gray sclera, a mop of dark green hair, and green freckles sprayed randomly across your skin was definitely an attention grabber for anyone. A few of the kids even threw rotten tomatoes and stones at you, it was so hard holding in explosions by the time you left that you just felt very overwhelmed. Hanging out around the self proclaimed ‘bench trio’ always enough to calm you down from a rough day. Mellohi’s muffled relaxed beat makes the corners of your lips twitch into a small smile. 

However just as you opened the door to Tommy’s room, you could hear their conversation end. “Hey guys, how’re-”

A yelp left your throat as something very cold drenched your body. An iron bucket came tumbling down and hit your head before falling to the floor with a clank. The pressure that has been building up in your chest increased tenfold, but you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to walk to your room for a change of clothes. Behind you, you heard Tommy laughing hysterically while Tubbo tried to apologize between his own laughter. You didn’t even have to look at Ranboo to know that he was guiltily fiddling with his sleeves as his tail flicked back and forth sharply. 

After you went into your room, you grabbed your pillow and screamed as loud as you could into it to blow off some steam. After that didn’t work, you tried punching the pillow relentlessly but that didn’t work. You could still feel pressure and energy inside your chest lingering and threatening to burst. 

You sighed and made your way downstairs walking past Tommy’s door. You could now hear Ranboo laughing with them, and that just made you even more angry than you were before. 

Everything around you was pissing you off. Philza’s wings fluttering behind him subconsciously, Technoblade’s little ‘heh’’s as he read something that caught him off guard in his book, Wilbur’s humming and mumbling to himself as he composed his next song, Tommy’s, Ranboo’s, and Tubbo’s loud laughter echoing from Tommy’s room. Every little sound was enough to send you over the edge. Just as you were about to leave the house to calm down again, a knock sounded at the door.

Philza gently pushed you behind him with furrowed brows and a hand on the sword hung around his hip. Techno’s book snapped shut as he stood up to grab his axe while Wilbur walked over to you and put a protective hand on your shoulder. You understood why they were cautious; you didn’t normally get visitors and the last time the house did, it was someone that decided to try and attack Technoblade on sight when he opened the door screaming about how hybrids aren’t natural. Keyword: tried. Techno absolutely would’ve killed him if it wasn’t for Philza holding him back. 

You felt anxiety creep up inside you as you fought against the small hisses trying to escape your mouth. The door opened slowly to reveal the store owner from a few days ago. His eyes hardened when he saw the wings sprouting from Philza’s back before his eyes flicked to you. He did not look happy to see you behind your dad’s massive wings. Without another word, you turned and ran up to your room when you felt the pressure become almost unbearable. 

You ran past Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo who were leaving Tommy’s room with hesitance. You didn’t respond when they tried to stop you. Slamming your door closed, you sat on your bed with your head clutched in your hands desperately trying to fight against the pressure building up. Small pops sounded on your skin as you grit your teeth in concentration. You could hear knocking at your door, thank god you locked it behind you. You had no idea how long you were sitting there trying to hold it back.

When the pressure became too much and you felt yourself losing grip on your control, you knew you needed to get out of the house as soon as possible. This was going to be a huge explosion, probably the biggest one you were going to do. The loud continuous hiss that left your throat was something you weren’t actively doing, another telltale sign that you were about to explode. You ripped open the door, pulled yourself from Tommy’s grasp, and ran as fast as you could downstairs. Philza followed you with a furious expression when he saw you, the store owner seemingly having left. 

“(Y/n), what in the hell did you do?” He grabbed your arm and pulled you to the living room. You tried your hardest to pull out of his grasp, but he was holding on too tight. The hissing had gotten slightly louder, but you moved a hand up to your mouth to try and muffle it. He sat you down on the couch and started pacing in front of you, his feathers puffed up angrily. Wilbur and Techno were eyeing you warily from across the room. 

“What were you thinking, blowing up his store like that? Were you even thinking? Cuz that was stupid (y/n). Hybrids get enough bad rap, and you go and pull this?!”

“Dad-”

“Not now Wilbur. As I was saying, you could’ve killed someone! What would you do then-”

“Dad,” Techno’s assertive tone stopped Philza in his tracks as he ran a hand down his face. “What could you possibly want right now, boys?”

“(Y/n)’s gonna explode soon.” Wilbur hurried over to you and helped you up. You could hear the three younger boys’ steps thundering down the stairs. By now, you were visibly shaking and sweating with the effort of holding explosions back. You could see the glowing of your freckles through the reflection of Wilbur’s glasses. 

“Shit,” Philza sounded panicked in that moment as Wilbur ushered you out of the house and into the forest. You pushed him away and stumbled your way deeper into the forest. You heard them attempting to follow you, but you gestured for them to get back. You had no idea how big this one was going to be, but it was definitely going to be large. 

You ran deeper into the forest until you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Leaning against a tree, you finally let yourself explode. This one was painful; your skin burned with every pop that emanated from your freckles, the burning making your free nerve endings scream at you. The last thing you saw was a wave of dirt splashing up before you blacked out. 

You were in and out of consciousness for the next week or so. Whenever you would wake up slightly, it would only be for a couple moments before you would pass out again. It was in those moments that the pain and the lack of energy hit you at full force. You supposed being unconscious was better than the mental and physical fog and the pain. 

By the time you fully woke up, your senses were slightly hyperactive, but nowhere near how you felt when you blew up that store. You reached up with a heavy hand to wipe at your crusty eyes before you heard rustling next to you. You looked over to see Philza standing at the door with a glass of water in his hand. When he saw that you were awake, he rushed to your side and helped you sit up. You took the water gratefully and drank it, the liquid refreshed your dry throat. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Tired and a little sore. How long was I out for?”

“About a week, you really worried us. That was a really big one. Do you know why it was so big?”

You nodded and looked down at the water in your hands, swirling it around the glass. You didn’t want to tell him about feeling angry and overwhelmed at every little thing around you the past few days. You felt guilty at that, they were just trying to live their lives while you were cursing them for merely existing. A finger under your chin made you look up at Philza. His eyes were full of gentleness and empathy, “c’mon, you can tell me. I want to help you.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Start wherever you feel comfortable. Take as much time as you need.” He sat on the edge of your bed and looked around your room while he waited. You took a second to gather your thoughts before you took a deep breath. Philza perked up and diverted his full attention to you. 

“It started when I first blew up that guy’s store. I swear it was an accident that time, a cat snuck up on me and rubbed on me,” you shuddered, small hisses leaving your mouth. “The guy came out and picked me up by my shirt. He called us some names so I kinda got mad and blew up on purpose.”

“‘Us’?”

You nodded, “hybrids. He said that ‘our kind’ destroys everything.” You glared at the glass in your hands, hissing in contempt and watching the freckles dully glow green. “He called us ‘filthy mutts’ and freaks, Dad.” Philza looked slightly peeved at the name calling, “still, you shouldn’t’ve blown up on him. You could’ve killed him, (y/n).”

“So you’re saying that it’s okay for him to call us slurs? Should we just let people slander us?” You narrowed your eyes at him. He shook his head, his medium length blond hair swaying with the movement. “Hell no, I’m not saying that at all. You should never let someone call you things, but violence is never the answer.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, “frankly, he deserved what was coming to him. I just wish he didn’t throw me before I could blow up.” 

“Hold on, he fucking threw you?” You nodded and watched his eyes darken and anger flash across his face, “violence is sometimes the answer then. Did he hurt you?” 

“No, but I just felt so… so drained. But so overwhelmed at the same time. I’ve never exploded twice in the same day before.”

He hummed in realization, “so that’s why you slept through most of the day. Sorry, go on.”

“After Tommy woke me up everything just felt worse. It was like everything around me was amplified. It was hell, the last few days I was just hyper aware of everything and it was pissing me off. Every little thing drove me crazy, I could feel myself getting closer and closer to exploding but I held it back until I couldn’t anymore.” 

“(Y/n), you know that’s not healthy… I talked to Sam, you remember right?” You shook your head, “well, he was an old friend of Wilbur’s. He used to come here all the time before he had to move away. He’s a creeper hybrid like you,” he chuckled when you perked up, “he gave me some advice on your anatomy when you were growing up. Anyways, he told me that sensory overload is common when you explode. He said that it’s normal to feel drained afterwards and to definitely get plenty of sleep. The sensory issues apparently get worse if your rest is interrupted, so that was probably why you felt overwhelmed in the past few days… He also told me that it really isn’t healthy to explode more than once a day or to hold it in for longer than necessary. Please just come to me if you’re feeling overwhelmed again or if you need to rest after exploding. I can even build you an obsidian building where you could go and not blow up anything.”

“...I’d like that. What- what else did he tell you?” Philza chuckled and started to tell you more about what Sam told him about his anatomy. He even gave you Sam’s comms contact so you could contact him if you had any questions or wanted some advice. He was a nice man when you talked to him, always having an answer for your questions. You even found old pictures of you as a baby following him around. Apparently you could tell that he was part creeper; wherever he was in the house, you were bound to be near him.

The rest of the day, you hung out with the rest of your family and the bench trio. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno wasn’t one for open affection, being the type to give you little trinkets and giving you suggestions on what to read next. Every time you woke up, you would find small objects ranging from gold to emeralds and books on your nightstand. He would vehemently deny being the one that gave you the items, but you and the rest of the family knew better. Sometimes, he would drop into your room to ask you what you thought of the book and have a thorough discussion about it with you while you were recovering. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned against Wilbur’s side with his arm wrapped around you. The hand that was around you was rubbing circles into your shoulder. After he scolded you for bottling up your emotions, he climbed into your bed and pulled you to his side. Small hums left his throat. 

“(Y/n)?” You hummed, your eyes half lidded and almost about to fall asleep. “Would you mind if I wrote a song about you? It would fit with the next album’s theme.” 

“Knock yourself out.” Your words were slightly slurred as you nuzzled closer to him. He laughed a bit, the sound being muffled and reverberating his chest. “Get some sleep. I’ll brainstorm some ideas to run by you before you wake up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hanging out with the self proclaimed ‘bench trio’ was always fun, even if you were on strict orders to stay in bed by Dadza. Nobody argues with a concerned Dadza, but they found other ways to hang out with you. Tommy had moved his jukebox into your room and was playing cat, the music soothing you immensely and putting an end to your worries. However, what didn’t soothe you was the card game in front of you. 

You were watching in horror as everybody put down a plus two card stacking the amount the victim would have to draw. So far, the plus two streak had already gone around the circle once and is now going around once more. It was nearing your turn and it was with great horror that you realized you didn’t have a color changing card or a plus two card. The two cards in your hand felt heavy as you watched Ranboo pull out another card.

“Please Ranboo, I’ll do anything. Don’t put that card down.” You watched as his ears twitched before he smiled innocently at you, putting the card down and laughing at you when you started the long process of drawing fourteen cards and sorting them. 

“Sorry, my hand slipped.”

“Get fucked (y/n)!” Tommy cackled at you. You flipped him off before you went back to sorting the cards. Tubbo put down a plus four color changing card and smiled at Tommy. 

“Sorry Tommy, but uno and the color is now red!”

“Goddamnit Tubbo! That’s the one color I don’t have,” he grumbled and drew four cards. Ranboo smiled triumphantly and put down his last card before showing you his empty hands. “What?! You didn’t even say uno!” You eyed his smug smile with disbelief. 

“You guys didn’t call me on it though.”

“That’s not the rules, Ranboo! You have to say uno!” Tommy argued. Long story short, the rules had to be looked up and the family had to be consulted before your group came to the conclusion that you in fact do not have to call out uno and the other players could call them out on it. Eventually after a few tense games, the three were sitting on your bed. Ranboo had some difficulty with it due to his height, but he managed with his legs crossed. 

“(Y/n) do you reckon you could become charged if you were hit by lightning?”

“Tubbo, you’re a genius,” Tommy breathed out, “let’s go see!” 

“No, you will not go see. Sit back down.” Wilbur called out as he passed your room. The group slumped slightly. “We’ll see when I get better. Mark my words, the next thunderstorm that happens I will see if I can be charged.” You whispered to them, your eyes glinting with mischief. 

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is, Ranboo. It probably won’t kill them.”

“Probably?” Ranboo raised an eyebrow at Tommy’s nonchalant answer. “Yes, probably.”

“I still have three lives left. If I die, I die.” You wove a hand in the air as you spoke and watched as Tubbo nodded in agreement. “Do it for science, (y/n).”

“Oh I will. For science!” You raised your water glass in the air and Tommy and Tubbo followed suit with wide smiles. “For science!”

You three turned to stare at a deadpanning Ranboo. He sighed before he raised his glass of milk and let out a monotone “for science.” You, Tommy, and Tubbo cheered as you clanked your glasses together. You could see a hint of a fond smile on Ranboo’s face as he watched you three chug your waters before he downed his milk in one swallow. 

You smirked at them and leaned close, talking lowly so that anyone passing by wouldn’t overhear you. “So, what’s our plan?”

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[ayamturd]

light│foolish g

summary: the eggpire attempts to manipulate the heart of a kindled lover, their own mistake in the making

warnings: mentioned kidnapping, injury descriptions, evil c!badboyhalo, angst to fluff

pairing: (requested) in-game foolish gamers

a/n: i tried to play with themes of light and darkness, just as a small visual insight :)

wc: (2.7k) - m.list

It was too dark, he noted. You didn’t like the house being dark. 

The second thing he noticed was the silence. There was no crackling fire, no greeting or even the stir of your footsteps inside the usual cozy house. Instead it was cold and empty, like the life had been snuffed and the warmth it once radiated suddenly gone in a broken still. Like it had been taken. 

“Y/n?”

Pushing the door open, Foolish immediately became on edge from the broken lock, it swinging open in a haunting manner that echoed throughout the house. He raised his axe while tightening his grip, and slowly, he crept his way around the living space, searching for any sign that you were there or at the very least okay. 

“Y/n? Love? Where are you?” 

He checked the bedroom, the bathroom, the chest rooms, everything. Nothing was out of place, yet it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Scanning each room at a glance, he started to become frantic from the realization. You weren’t here.

“Y/n!”

As he started to pace in worry with growing, erratic breaths, he noticed he forgot to check the kitchen, bolting through the small doorway in desperation for any clues to your whereabouts.  Once entering, however, it only worsened his fears.

The kitchen was a mess; from broken glass scattered on the ground to the spilt stew you promised to make tonight, there were signs of an obvious struggle, and one that you must of lost. 

Walking slowly into the room, Foolish stood in the middle, his footsteps crunching under the shattered dish ware. He could only stare in horror to the scene before him, the unexpected attack within your own home. 

He began to shake, in fear or anger, he didn’t know. All that he knew was that he was terrified for you, of your state, your condition, where you were. He didn’t have the answers he needed and it started to boil a new found rage in the pit of his soul, something he never knew he could have felt in thought of you.

Before he could become completely lost to his own thoughts, something bright shone in the corner of his vision. It was small and lost under the fragments, but it reflected the brief moonlight that peeked through the window still. Foolish crouched down, and as he swiped the broken mess away, he let out a small gasp.

It was your necklace, one he had given to you as a gift near the beginning of your relationship. The small pendent, while old and rough, was an old crystal he found eons ago; he was fascinated with the object when he first discovered it, and as a symbol of his love, chose to gift it to you on your first anniversary.

Although discolored from age and time, the crystal had always held some sort of clouded transparency. Unlike its usual form, Foolish held the pendent up and saw a dark stain of red tainting the side, almost in a corrupt manner as it seeped inside the stone in cracked veins. 

The color was too bright to resemble any spilt blood, and with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, Foolish seethed at the concluding answer. “Bad,” he growled. 

Closing his fist around the charm, he clenched it tightly and raised it to his forehead. The one piece of him you had, now the only thing he had of you. 

He was going to get you back, no matter what it took. 

“You can’t do this, Bad.” Pulling against Punz’s hold, you tried to throw hands at Bad with a snarl. He only chuckled at your attempts, his once sweet tone now malicious and stern. 

“The less you resist, y/n, the easier this will be for us all.” 

Your hands were tied behind your back, the rope burning against your skin, rubbing raw from your constant movements to free yourself. Punz had his arms under yours, locking you against his chest and preventing you from moving your upper body; even then, it did nothing to stop your attempts to thrash as much as possible.

Punz grunted from the hard kick you landed behind at him, your legs fierce as they moved every which way. Antfrost stepped forwards to help control you, though it was his mistake to approach you cautiously from the front since you kicked him in the face with a large crack following after.  

He fell back with a painful yelp, clutching his broken snout that oozed blood and paralleled the red veinage surrounding his eyes. While you internally celebrated your direct hit with pride, it faded when Bad began to laugh.

“Don’t you see now, Y/n?” As he began stalking towards you, Punz learned from his mistake and hooked his own leg around yours, pulling it back so you were further locked it place. You were helpless as Bad leaned into your face with an amused grin. 

“You’re a fighter. Someone that understands the weaknesses of others and how to exploit them. With us, you could discover your own potential and fight for the things that truly matter.”

You hissed at his proximity and cruel intent. “Why the hell would I join an omelette that does nothing but turn you all into brainless puppets.”

Bad laughed again, though forced before shifting into a frown. “We are anything but puppets. We are visionaries chosen to light the way for a new age that calls for freedom and peace. A world with no wars, no loss, and no pain. Only the Egg.”

He turned again, his back facing towards you as he looked ahead. Tilting his head slightly, he smiled sadistically to the thought. “Why don’t we show you?” 

With wide eyes, you yelled and fought harder against Punz. It didn’t matter how pathetic or futile your efforts would be in the end, you screamed viciously to his plan; you would be damned if you were to go near that thing and let it corrupt you like it did to those around you. You refused.

“We’ll make you understand, y/n. Don’t you worry now.”

It had been a while since Foolish last stepped foot in the Badlands. As he mainly stayed within his own land and frequented to Snowchester for his recent commission, he hadn’t seen how bad the landscape had become for some time now. 

There were vines littered everywhere; they broke through the ground and wrapped around everything they could, the previous builds constructed now ruins under the untamed growth. 

The infection worse than he could ever imagine. 

Like the land was corrupted itself, the once blue sky barely shined through the dark, thick clouds that surveyed the surrounding area as the grass’ usual lively, green hue looked almost dead from the sight. It was as if the land had been drained of its life form entirely. 

With a shake of his head, Foolish pushed forwards despite the unfortunate outcomes. You were his main and only concern, and he was coming for you. 

Following the growing trail of vines, he stopped once finding himself faced with an opening in the ground, the vines encompassing the entire area all centering to this one focal point. 

The hole was dimly light, yet in spite of the notable metal lanterns nailed to the cavern walls that lit the descending path underground, Foolish could hear the whispers of an ancient being shrouded in a sensation that could only be described as darkness. Pure darkness that’s sole intent was to demoralize and expand. 

As his own power centered essentially to a form of life in terms of rebirth, Foolish felt his heart race from the opposing force; Death is often seen as the opposite stage to Life, however in actuality, Corruption and Decay hold more differences than the former, for Corruption seeks out to invade and overtake, leaving little room for life to breathe in its natural state as it’s smothered degenerately. Death is painful as a concept, but only works as an end of a cycle that leads to a new one instead. 

His strive to reach you was stronger than ever, and with that he entered the small space. 

“So nice of you to finally join us!” Bad’s voice echoed against the cavern walls, his voice too cheery for Foolish’s liking. Pushing away the overhanding vines that blocked his line of vision, Foolish approached the group with an aggravated attitude. 

Standing in front of the Egg, Bad stood at the center with Antfrost and Punz accompanying his sides. While Foolish went in with a vengeful mentality, all thoughts left him as soon as he saw you. 

You were completely wrapped in the thick, twisted vines, forced onto your knees as the branches covered your body up to your neck. Singular vines were crawled up your head, forming a make-shift halo that encircled your face with obvious pressure on your temples. 

Sitting below at Bad’s feet, you occasional would wince in slight pain yet your eyes remained fixed wide open. They were empty and tinted red, a hollow shell of who you were as you fought for control over your own mind. 

Foolish snarled at the physiological torture, and turned to Bad in full anger.

“Let them go, Bad. They don’t deserve any of this.” Bad chuckled darkly at the demand and raised his arms upward. 

“Deserve any of what? Freedom? Power? A chance to protect all those they love?” Reaching down, Bad mockingly began to stroke your head, and you flinched from his demeaning touch.

Foolish took a singular step forward, his trident pointed threateningly at the audacity he had to both harm and touch you.

“You and I both know that that thing,” Foolish emphasized while turning to point his weapon condemnatory towards the massive egg, “doesn’t do anything but corrupt and spread lies.”

The air grew stiff as a forced silence overtook the room. Bad sighed dramatically, his actions imposing as he showed little care for Foolish’s anger and comment. Crossing his arms, Bad shook his head dismissively with a disappointed frown.

“We knew you would be one of the most difficult to convince.” Foolish froze, confused to his connotations, making Bad smile further. He gestured behind him, and leaned his head forward with a merciless smirk.

“Which is why the Egg demands for y/n more than you think.”

Foolish looked down in seething fury, the thought that you were taken and used as a pawn for his own compliance something inadmissible and unforgivable. He breathed out a humorless snicker, and lifted his eyes up with his head still bowed down.

“Did you really think you could get me to join you,” he lowly asked, his eyes starting to emit a harsh, green glow, “by taking the one person I center my world around?”

He held his own smirk at the growing fear the three began to show, them stepping back as he felt the familiar warmth of power overtake him. Only this time, the light burned like near fire from his manifested rage. 

“Think again.”

There was no time to run or attack as Foolish radiated a blinding light, his body shifting as he changed before them from his mortal to Godly form. By the time the light had subsided and the ever so mighty Eggpire could open their eyes from the jarring glow, it was too late for them already. 

Foolish was pushed against the cavern ceiling from his extreme height and size, though it didn’t matter for all he needed were his hands as he began swatting at them. He managed to throw Antfrost against the farthest wall, the collision knocking him out cold as he slumped over immediately.

Punz, like the mercenary he is, managed to evade Foolish’s attacks and tried to climb his figure for leverage. It was his mistake, however, as Foolish grabbed him by the ankle during his vulnerable ascent and swung him across the space. A sickening snap from his throw lead him to scream in agony, his arm bent awkwardly under him from the severe fall damage. He too passed out from the pain. 

Lastly, Bad could only cower at the man’s wrath, the golden figure pausing to face him in his entirety, saving his final, overwhelming outrage for the leading assailant. 

As he raised his fist to strike him down, however, Bad grew desperate and reached for his best bargaining tool: you. 

He rushed forward and unsheathed his sword, holding it strictly to your throat while you unconsciously grimaced from the cool of the blade. Foolish was forced to freeze his movements.

“Accept it Foolish, you can’t win against the Eggpire. We are the new age. Join us, and you can continue living your lives,” Bad looked down at you with an overly sweet smile, “together.”

Foolish was hesitate and nervous. He refused to back down in knowing fear you would suffer the consequences of his surrender, yet at the same time, your life was hanging in the fate of his next decision. Faltering his gaze at Bad, he glanced up and paused, a new idea, a new option making way. 

Slowly, he leaned down to grab a massive boulder, the vines wrapped around the broken stone snapping as he pulled on it. Bad saw through his intentions and panicked, his sword falling from your neck as he began to cry out. 

“Wait- NO! Foolish you can’t!” Completely ignoring Bad’s pleas, Foolish launched the large rock at the Egg. 

“Foolish, NO DON-”

The air hissed from the impact, and a force pushed all back as the Egg cracked open with a dying cry, the sound a high pitch ringing as it wailed from the strike. It smelled awful, to say the least. Like rotten flesh that was burned for an extended period of time, the fowl odor pervaded the cavern in a red mist. 

As the cloud briefly settled, the visible damage to the Egg became more clear; it was caved in where the boulder was thrown, the inside a glowering, black tint that radiated heat when exposed to the open air. The whispers were now screaming voices, loud cries that shouted over each other. Foolish winced from the overwhelming sound, but as quickly as it came, they fell painfully silent seconds later. 

While there was no visible light that transpired once the Egg was impacted, the underground room felt somehow brighter. Like a dark shadow now removed, the shift of light brought forth a true feeling of peace and quiet, as if the buzzing temptations were suddenly removed, if only for a temporary moment.

Bad seemingly collapsed the moment the Egg was injured, his sword falling with a clang as he fell unconscious besides you. Without pause, Foolish transfigured to his original form and rushed to check on you. 

He scrambled onto his feet once collapsing back into his moral height and instantly checked you over, pulling the dead, shriveled vines off you before gently bringing you into his lap while holding a hand to your cheek. 

“Y/n?” he murmured. Your skin was warm to the touch, and Foolish continued to stroke your face in his attempts to awake you. “Y/n? Please, please wake up.”

Suddenly, you stirred from his words, and slowly blinked your eyes open. Your eyes were squinted in a haze, your sight fuzzy until Foolish came into clear view. “Foolish?”

He let out a laugh of relief, his eyes wet as tears collected from the immense amount of joy that overcame him. Pulling you into his chest, he cradled your head and kissed the top of it earnestly, his eyes shut close as his tears escaped. “Hey there,” he whispered. 

Pulling away from you, his grin met your tired one as you smiled softly, hand raised to wipe his fallen tears. “Hey you.”

“Welcome back,” he giggled, his emotions running high from the reassurance that you were within his arms and you were safe. He beamed to the point where his cheeks hurt from how wide they pulled. 

You gripped his hand on your own cheek, squeezing it as your form of security that this was your reality, that it was real and he was actually here. Two rekindled loves reunited once more, you both gleamed in each other’s warmth and luminescent love.

“Glad to be back.”

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: The First Time

So this isn't the first one I wrote for this "series", but this is the first one chronologically, so I decided this will be the first to be posted. Depending on how well this one and the other two I've written do will help me to decide if this is an AU I wanna continue or not. Feel free to send in asks and stuff about the AU!

Warnings: Violence ; Death

Words: 3.5k

You hated the nether. The thick dry heat choked you in a way that made you feel as if you had stepped into a wildfire in the middle of a desert, but worse. The smell of sulfur seemed to cling to your clothes in a way that made you gag every time. To be honest, you probably wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t appreciate the piglins. You were able to barter with them much easier than the villagers back home, and they had much better stuff. You snorted at the thought, and the large brute before you copied the action.

Home.

The village you had set up base in wasn’t really your home. Just a convenient place that you had set up your bed. A bed which now sat on the other side of the portal you had built on the lower level of the bastion below.

You were grateful to have access to the only thing you really needed in the nether. Trading with the piglins gave you a way to achieve more ender pearls so you wouldn’t have to kill the poor enderman on the surface. You held out another gold ingot to the brute, but he didn’t take it immediately. He was looking at something to the side of your exchange and you turned your head slightly to look too.

The heat of the nether was nothing compared to the warmth that immediately bubbled in your stomach. Everything seemed to fizzle out of existence aside from the large man that had entered the bastion. Which turned out to be your mistake.

Searing pain in your back made you grunt as you were knocked forward into the brute in front of you. You turned to see a ghast behind you that breathed another fireball. The piglin, upset at suddenly being “attacked” started to slice at you with its sword and you hissed at the damage you were taking. You didn’t want to kill the piglin. It didn’t understand that it had been an accident.

You cursed at yourself. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had been all this time, and your health felt dangerously low. Another hit from the explosion of the fireball and a swipe at the brute’s sword replaced the pain with nothing as you died.

You cursed when you woke up in your bed next to the portal. The mattress felt almost too soft as you struggled to remove yourself from it and fling yourself back through the portal. You flew up the steps, your feet taking them two at a time and you hoped your items hadn’t despawned.

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief when you saw Technoblade examining your items. You had been fast enough. You jogged up behind him, a grin on your lips, both relieved for your items and excited to finally meet him. “Hey!”

You immediately jolted to a stop at the sword now placed at your throat, but you could help but laugh at yourself. You should have expected that. You held up your hands in what you believed to be a non-threatening manner as you looked up at him.

“Sorry about that! I’m [y/n].” You watched him slowly lower the blade, eyes behind the mask narrowed at you. He looked both exactly how you expected and not how you expected at all.

“Technoblade.” You couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from your lips as you moved around him to collect your items and put back on your armor. Who hadn’t heard of him?

“Man, I hate ghasts. I worked really hard to save up all those levels, and now I have nothing.” You took a cursory glance at your levels. “Oh, I’m sorry, I have two. Fat load of help that would be. Glad I don’t need to enchant anything for a long while, hm?” You turned back to him once you had your golden boots buckled. You were totally going to take advantage of this opportunity to follow him like a puppy. No one else you had met seemed to actually understand you and the chance at an interaction with someone had you almost crawling up the walls. “Where are we off to, then?”

Techno just stared at you. You were much shorter than he was. At least a foot, if not more. How tall was he again? In this form, about seven feet, he thought. You were very short compared to him. The thought made his lips twitch before he turned, walking in the direction of where he last remembered there to be a fortress.

Chat was going crazy at the discovery of this new anomaly. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met people he didn’t share a couple lifetimes with before. He had met plenty where they just didn’t meet in a life or two, such as George or Schlatt. But never someone he had shared none with. No one here seemed to speak of anyone new either. It was always the same people, a different storyline. As if DreamXD -or maybe Kristen? He had only met her once, but she had been very kind. Would this be her department, then?- just kept recycling their souls into new realities like a -what did that lifetime call it? A movie? Chat confirmed his thought- played for their own entertainment until they got bored and it was onto the next.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were talking again, but the roar in his brain was louder, so he didn’t pay too much attention to your words, despite how the soft timbre of your voice made something bubble in his chest. What were you even doing here? He had seen you trading with the piglins before your death, -you had respawned so quickly, anyone else in this lifetime took two or three days but you seemed to reappear in what felt like seconds- so why were you following him now?

Chat’s whispers echoed through his mind.

E.

I wonder who they are.

They can’t be older than Tommy.

E.

Maybe we should kill them again, see what happens this time.

Wilbur will want to know about this.

They said their name was [y/n]?

Maybe they’re like Phil.

Pog.

E.

Blood for the blood god.

E.

They’re probably closer to Wilbur’s age.

Stab them.

Jump off the edge.

Push them off the edge.

E.

Techno, will you call my friend Rachel a nerd?

All warfare is based on deception.

His fingers twitched around his sword at the thought. Was this all a trick? It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He glanced at you once more, focusing on your words, finally.

“-like they seem to notice, y’know? I just kind of walk into their houses, take from their chests, and move on. Hell, I even put my bed in, I think the library? Not one of them batted an eye! It’s almost scary, to be honest. I can loot their things, sleep in their beds, practically dismantle their homes, and I get nothing but a “Hnn.” in response!” A small pout found its way to your lips and Techno hummed in response. This seemed to be what you wanted to hear because a smile replaced the pout and you looked up at him. “So where are we going again?”

“Fortress.” His words were short, tone clipped, as if he didn’t know if you were gonna shove him into the lava, or if that was what he planned to do to you. It didn’t matter, to be honest. You were just thrilled he was letting you accompany him. Heart soaring at the feeling of interacting with another intelligent being once more. He even seemed to be listening as you rambled! That had to be a good thing, right? You hadn’t really met anyone else on the server yet, aside from distantly watching Dream, George, and Sapnap build the large building that stood in the center of what they dubbed the Dream SMP. A small giggle fell from your lips. That would have been a cute name had one of the members not been named it. Rather, it just felt self-centered because of that. You were mildly afraid of approaching the trio. You were almost afraid of how they would react when they met you.

You edged closer to the bridge to the fortress with Technoblade and you felt your heart speed up a little. Ash floated across your vision and you felt it hard to breathe for a moment. The sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin under your armor made you feel clammy. You had only been in one of these once since coming here when you wanted to try your hand at learning how to craft potions and needed blaze rods.

That.. hadn’t worked out in your favor.

You had only had one set of diamond armor, and you hadn’t even enchanted it at the time. When the wither skeletons had overtaken you and murdered you without a thought, you remembered racing back and trying to get your items back. This had only led to yet another death, however. Your eyebrows furrowed as the question entered your mind.

How many times had you died?

You remember when you first came to this world, waking up next to a river with a chest filled with bread, a map, a wooden axe, and a few other paltry items sitting before you surrounded by torches. The gentle babble of the water easing you awake and the smell of fresh flowers floated through the breeze. You almost didn’t mind the ants that were crawling on the ledge just a tad too close to you. You remember being so confused and the days being so hard at first. You didn’t even sleep the first couple days because you hadn’t found a village yet. The stupid phantoms that had attacked you had made you way more aggressive than you had meant to be. But you were tired and you were frustrated and you just wanted to find a stupid village already. You had been residing in the one you were in now since you had first found it your third day here. The first two deaths happening on your second day. One because of said phantoms and one because you had fallen from a cliff. You were devastated at the lack of supplies and progress when you just respawned next to that river, awaking to a few scattered zombies and a skeleton or two. You had dug yourself a hole and cried in it while you waited for sun-up. Many more deaths had happened since, but you couldn't seem to be able to remember the number now.

You hadn’t planned on returning to a fortress until you had better equipment, fearing another death. Something better than your diamond armor and golden boots and your sole netherite sword, but who were you to miss the opportunity to go exploring with The Blood God? Besides you had a bow with Power IV you had stolen from a skeleton that had been in the village. You didn’t know how durable it still was, but it was better than nothing, right?

The rattling of bones brought you out of your thoughts. Already a couple of blazes and some wither skeletons were approaching. You drew your sword, heart hammering in your chest. This wouldn’t be like last time. You had Technoblade to back you up. The top PVPer. The winner of the potato war. The Blood God. You could do this. You could do this.

A lucky swing from one of the wither skeletons caught you in the arm and you hissed as the wither effect immediately took hold and you jolted at the feeling. It was numbing. You felt nauseated. Another hit and you gasped when you felt your health drop to a dangerous level. You sliced up with your sword, removing its head from its spine with a gnarly “click” and you immediately moved out of fire to drink some milk and eat a couple of the pieces of salmon you had brought with you.

Whilst you were letting your health regenerate, you removed your bow from your inventory, aiming at one of the blazes, only to watch something white hit it first. You hesitated, looking towards Technoblade, only to see him ignoring the wither skeletons that were approaching you and focusing on throwing snowballs at the flaming mob. Your lips twitched. Fine. You’d take care of the skeletons, then.

You grabbed your sword once more and began attacking the skeletons in front of you with reckless abandon. You were growing mildly frustrated. Your arm hurt now and Techno seemed to be leaving you on your own to fight off the horde that was slowly amassing. There had only been four of them at first, but now four more had sprinted over to join the fray when they saw the two of you. Now, minus the one you had already taken care of and the two Technoblade had killed within the first ten seconds of their approach, there were five. You winced when you heard the sound of both blazes being taken care of and you hadn’t even killed one more.

‘-so she throws this apple, she just chucks this apple and says like, only the hottest goddess can take this apple.’ Chat loved it when he told them mythology stories, despite them being there when he had read it.

E.

Greek mythology pog.

Semi-demi god for the win!

Speaking of discord, how’s the new person doing?

E.

Persephone is definitely the hottest.

At the mention of you, Techno turned his attention to the sound of metal hitting metal and was surprised to see you still standing there, despite being crowded by wither skeletons. Just another thing to tack onto the list about you. He watched you kill another one, followed by a yelp as you took another hit, the wither effect turning the flesh around your wound a purplish black before you killed one more. You backed up on the bridge, drinking more milk and eating another piece of fish. He could see how the action pained you, but you were resilient.

They’re stupid.

Look at them wave that sword around, do they even know what they’re doing?

E.

They haven’t died again yet?

They can’t be one of Schlatt’s people.

Save them.

Technoblade, wasn’t Eris the daughter of Zeus?

E.

He decided to wait and see what you did. If you died, there was more for him to loot. If you didn’t, then it was a lesson. Either way, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting you further into the fortress. His nose twitched at the smell of your blood and of rot that seemed to ooze off the skeletons. He still needed more wither skulls.

The remaining four attacked you again, despite your low health, and you felt as if you were going to cry. You hated the nether.

Two more were dispatched a lot faster than the first ones had been and you swallowed. Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you felt just the slightest bit more confident in yourself.

Two more left.

You ducked at a swing, movement still slow. You only had one more milk left, and that scared you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, get hit again with their stupid swords and their stupid wither effect. You sliced with your sword, hooking the metal into the rib cage in front of you and sending the skeleton careening into the other just as it swung down, making the attack miss.You flinched at the sound of metal hitting stone, but you recovered faster than the skeletons in front of you. You could do this.

Another hit, your sword cutting through the skeleton’s vertebrate and killing it. You could do this.

One more.

Your sword was met with metal as you blocked its attack and you grunted, knocking it back. You could do this!

A downward slice had you throwing yourself back onto the side of the bridge as you dodged. You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Technoblade again. You shoved another piece of salmon into your mouth as you backed up. You really hoped there weren’t any more blazes around. Or more skeletons waiting for you. You shoved yourself off the wall, hitting the wither skeleton with your shoulder to knock it back again before you struck once more, across the neck, beheading it.

The sight of three wither skulls in your inventory made you fall to your knees and you let out a sigh in relief. Your arms ached. Your wounds ached. Your head ached. Your vision doubled for a moment. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You felt great, despite how dizzy you felt at the moment. You looked at Technoblade, hoping to find him still there.

He was leaned against the wall of the fortress, watching you with crossed arms.

Was he waiting on you?

The thought made you perk up and you scrambled to stand, rushing to him while holding the skulls. “Here! I got them all!”

He merely blinked at you as you handed him all three skulls you had gotten from your fight, placing them into his inventory after a moment. He didn’t speak, just turned to descend further in. Were you supposed to follow him?

You did anyways, feeling proud of yourself. He had waited on you!

The rest of the fortress had been like that. You continuously fighting wither skeletons, blazes, regular skeletons, zombified piglins, and magma cubes, only to turn over your loot to the large warrior who would patiently wait for you. You kept a few of the bars of gold, some diamonds, and one of the saddles you had found, but ultimately, you were just spare hands to help him. The experience you were gaining was more than enough, especially since he seemed to be listening to you ramble on and on. He’d occasionally hum or grunt in response, but not much more than that. It was still such a sweet sound in your ears, despite the constant crackle of fire that just filled the nether.

He didn’t speak when he decided he was finished, just started walking back the way you came and you immediately fell into step next to him when he walked past you.

Despite your exhaustion and the pain you felt, this trip felt more than worth it.

When you returned to the bastion where you two had first met, you grinned up at him.

Techno felt his breath catch in his throat at your smile. That smile almost made the sweltering brightness of the nether feel cold and dark. He had never had someone, aside from Tommy, smile at him with such warmth. No one had a smile like yours. They were all weighed heavy with the memories from lifetimes no longer in reach. But you? You were so tired from accompanying him, still wounded from fighting for him. Aside from the couple small treasures you had hidden away, you had given him everything. There was really no reason for you to have gone with him when you received virtually nothing in return. And now you smiled at him like that? You were-

TechnoSIMP.

E.

Look at how cute they are.

They’re stupid.

Take them back with us.

You should give them something for helping.

Hug them.

Awww look at them!

All warfare is based on deception.

He stopped that thought before it could fully finish.

“I should get going. I don’t know how dark it is and I want a bath.” He nodded at you. “I’ll catch you some other time, alright? Don’t be afraid to come by sometime if you need a buddy again, okay?”

He only hummed in response and watched you glide down the stairs of the bastion to a portal he had never noticed before.

A buddy? You weren’t a buddy. What did he really know about you?

You respawned faster than anyone else he had met. There hadn’t been another chance to test that, but you seemed unphased with your death. When you held up your hands, he couldn’t see the usual hearts on your wrist that they all shared. Even when normal members lost a life, he’s noticed that the normally red hearts are cracked and black. Phil himself had one on the center of his wrist. But yours were bare from the mark. You weren’t immortal, were you? Had he come across a god?

He chuckled at the thought.

Such a tiny god compared to him.

For now, he had to return to Pogtopia. He had to tell Wilbur about you. Perhaps write to Phil and ask if he knew anything about people with no or unlimited lives. He would repay your kindness at a later date.

He only hoped you wouldn’t be on the other side of this war.

[dreadwulf]

2: The Black Mountains

Post-Apocalyptic Modern AU. Chapter 1 is here.

The last thing his right eye ever saw was Brienne. 

In that eye she is shouting. Of course he couldn’t hear her at the time over the jeers of the Bloody Mummers tying him to the table. Their laughter had been right up against his ears and the sound of it drowned out everything else in that abandoned mall. The image is soundless: her mouth is just open, her throat pushing out a word that looks like No. Her blue eyes are also open wide, both frightened and angry, a righteous fury that came to him as a surprise, at the time.

She is a still image that resides in the abandoned nerves to that empty eye socket. If he cares to, he can still see her there, superimposed over everything.

She hovers over The Spider’s right shoulder just now. Still saying No.  

He tries to focus on the Spider’s face instead. Varys raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow on his immaculate bald head.

“You can’t shoot anymore. Not like before, not with one eye. You know this.”

“I don’t mean to shoot.” Jaime shows his palms. “I have two hands still. I need a weapon I won’t have to aim.”

Varys measures this statement. He is a man who deals in knowledge more than goods, but he has an armed guard, and a collection of interesting weapons. Both for his own protection, and for use in acquiring the most valuable intel.

“In that case,” the Spider presses a button on the trailer wall. To one of the bikers, a large man with a burnt face who looks in the door in response to his call, he instructs, “bring me the Widow’s Wail.”

The same scarred man reappears with a comically oversized weapon in his hands. Turns out Widow’s Wail is an axe. It is a huge, two-handed, double-bladed axe and when the burnt biker hands it to Jaime his hands dip with the weight.

Axes, Brienne used to tell him, are the best weapon for killing Others. You don’t need to reload an axe. It can’t jam, doesn’t recoil. Simple and effective. 

Messy though, he had said back. He had always preferred his rifle -- clean and fast, one shot and done, and hopefully at a distance. The Others would fall down like carnival targets, one after another, and his favorite jacket would remain spotless. But after they took his eye, he had needed a new weapon, and his jacket was long-ruined by then. 

This is messy work, she had replied.

Now, he lifts the weapon, turns it one way and another. Both edges gleam in the fluorescent light. This axe has been sharpened recently. It is spotless. This weapon has never seen battle.

“It’s new,” Varys fills in immediately, “but it was designed to kill Others. Old valyrian steel, made the old way. We haven’t yet had opportunity to test it, but it will strike true.”

Jaime doesn’t ask how Varys would be able to make a valyrian steel weapon. Knowing how is what he does. 

The Spider watches him curiously. “Are we square then, Slayer?”

“Almost.” He sits again, crosses the long weapon over his lap with both fists grasping it tightly. “Where did it happen?”

“In the North. What exactly happened is unclear even to me, but we know for certain she had traveled north with a small gang. There are reports of her at Winterfell, and then she went with Snow and a small band of Starks beyond the Black Mountains. They returned without her.”

Jaime nods shortly. “Winterfell, then the wilds.”

The Spider frowns. He is perhaps a little perplexed by this conversation, or by Jaime himself. He likes to think he knows people, knows how they will react. But recent years have made a different man of Jaime Lannister. The fall of King’s Landing, his father’s death, the business with Cersei -- after all that, the arrogant and impetuous adventurer of his younger days is long gone. He is a ghost of himself, and the Spider doesn’t know what this ghost will do. He doesn’t like that.

He sits up a little bit straighter on his couch.  “Then it isn’t our local outbreak you intend to fight? I expected you would be nearby. Kill some Others, burn off some steam, and incidentally clear out some of the infestation in the Riverlands, which would be convenient for me. But you aren’t doing that, are you? You mean to follow her? To what purpose?”

Jaime’s eye flickers briefly right. “Hunting.”

“It will be pointless to mount a rescue mission, I assure you.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Their eyes meet for a moment. Jaime isn’t about to elaborate on his intentions, and Varys is visibly frustrated. His silky tones shorten, revealing something sharp beneath. 

“I ought to stop you. You have brought order to the Westerlands, and you’re starting to bring it here too. Alliances, patrols for the roads. Your brother, clever as he is, did not do that. If you abandon these lands, it may all fall apart.”

Jaime feels a flicker of guilt for that, but it is quickly doused by everything else happening inside him. No, this is important. Maybe the most important thing he has ever done.

He shrugs stiffly. “If it falls apart without me, it was too fragile to last.” 

“You’ll need more than an axe and your motorbike to make that journey. You have favors to trade, certainly,” Varys cuts him off before he can argue, “but not that many. The scouting party went beyond the Black Mountains, across them, into the far North. There are few enough waystations on the way to Winterfell, and everything North of Winterfell belongs to the Others. There will be no shelters for you along the way, no refuges, no refueling.”

Jaime is unconcerned. “If she made it there, then I can too.”

“The Blue Angel had a party of supporters, specialists. She would have been outfitted with the best supplies and equipment. She was welcomed everywhere she went, and at the peak of her powers. No offense, Slayer, but you are past your prime, and your powers lately end at the borders of Lannister territory.”

He smiles thinly as he stands. “I didn’t know you cared, Spider. Thanks for the weapon. We’re square.”

Jaime takes the axe outside, and stands staring up at the moon, while the bikers retrieve his motorbike.

Anytime he looks at the moon, anytime there is a moon, he thinks of her. Remembers how they had looked on it together, during those long nights on the road, even though they had parted years ago now. Her on to glory, him back to the arms of his family. They delivered the girls to Winterfell, and he left her to the Kingsroad. It was her territory after that, what once had been his. She had earned it in sweat and tears and blood. She tended it well without him. He had gloried in tales of her exploits.

Whenever he looks at the moon, he has always wondered if she is looking too. Wherever she is.

He thinks he will not be able to look at the moon anymore.

When he turns his head, Varys stands on the steps of his trailer, his bald head gleaming against the fluorescent light. Jaime has never seen him outside his trailer. It’s confusing, a little like seeing a penguin in the jungle.

“The Others of the Black Mountains are different,” The Spider warns him. “Worse.” 

When his bike comes rolling back with two of the Spider’s bikers, it comes with a few more gifts. Two metal spheres, one the size of a softball and the other the size of a chestnut.

Grenades, obviously Old World. Gods know where Varys got them from, certainly they aren’t made this way anymore. What they’re calling grenades now will mostly just make noise. But these two could probably blow a hole in a tank. He packs them onto his bike carefully.

Any old-world weapon would be priceless now, Jaime knows. Varys would not overpay a debt.

He squints up at the Spider, who makes a silky shadow in the doorway against his light. “And the cost?”  

The Spider smiles -- he can’t see it, on a shadow, but he can hear it in his voice. “If you come back, tell me what you saw. I hear very little of the Black Mountains and none of it first-hand.”

Jaime can promise that easily enough. He knows he won’t be coming back.

He walks his bike in silence about a mile up the road before waking the engines and roaring away.

He rides the motorbike until the last of his carefully hoarded gasoline is run out, rides right through the next day and into the night. Gets more miles out of it than he would have gotten with his creaky armored car, and certainly faster. 

Along the way he sees no other travelers. Five years ago there would have been at least a few others, some other vehicles, perhaps spaced out and alone, perhaps all in a big caravan for safety. But there is not much fuel left anymore. And North is not a direction people go in now.

It was how he had met her, actually. On a road much like this one.  He had been on a different motorbike and she had been driving a sedan. Obviously following him, less obvious why. He made it a chase - weaving between the stopped traffic, blasting around the walkers and cyclists and parades of cars going nowhere. She had somehow kept up with him, pushing her poor little car to its limits. Eventually he decided whoever it was had earned his attention for at least a few minutes, and he pulled over on the road to watch the tallest, ugliest woman he had ever seen unfold herself out of her car. 

She kept his attention considerably longer than a few minutes. .

Of course, he could enjoy a chase back then - you could still count on petrol, could siphon it out of most any vehicle you encountered along the way. The cars along the road here are bone dry by now, haven’t moved in years, and the electronics, trunk supplies, and even promising upholstery have been stripped out of them long ago. The cars pass by now in muted streaks of blue and red, dulled by layers of paint-stripping weather damage and snow. 

When his bike sputters to a stop, he leaves it right out on the highway. Packs his equipment onto his back. Then he begins to walk.

Without the headlights of his bike, it’s quite dark. No streetlights, of course. He has a torch in his bag, but he’s saving that battery as long as he can. Anyway, the moon is out, and once his eyes are adjusted he sees well enough. The trees encroaching on the interstate have not quite overtaken the shoulder, and the glow of moon and stars light up the cracked concrete in front of him, and glitter in the frost.

His boots echo his footfalls up and down the highway. First the gritty sound of gravel, and then the crunch of ice, and then the quieter scrunch of snow. 

There are no other sounds to hear out here -- no bird cries, no insects. They aren’t sure if the animals are dead, hiding, or run away, but no one sees them anymore. Means he doesn’t have to worry about being eaten by bears, at least.

The last bear he has seen was that time with Brienne, actually. It might have been the last bear, period. He hasn’t heard of any other ones since. That would be a shame, if that had been the last bear, and they’d killed it. He hadn’t wanted to. He can’t take it personally, the bear trying to eat them. He was only hungry, and they were all very hungry that winter. 

He didn’t know he would be fleeing the last bear in Westeros with her, when he met Brienne on the road. He only knew she was capable, and she was following him, and anyone out in the wilds could be dangerous. Out here other people were either foolishly overconfident, robbers, or competition. 

Brienne proved to be the last type, possibly also the first. She was after the Stark bounty, same as him. She had a personal stake. He could keep the money, she said. He had a lot more experience and knew where he was going, but she could be an ally. She could help.

He had laughed in her face, more or less. Said she was free to make the bounty herself, but he traveled alone. Newbies tended to die almost immediately, and he hadn’t stayed alive this long by babysitting foolish college students. He would locate the missing Stark girls and deliver them home. But if she wanted to return them herself she’d have to beat him there. 

A few weeks later they had wound up with one Stark girl apiece -- him with Sansa and her best girlfriend Jayne, her with Arya and her mate Gendry -- and again she had proposed an alliance for the trip up to Winterfell. No one had made it to Winterfell since the disaster, but their chances were better together, she said.

His better idea was that he could take the two valuable girls to Winterfell and she could take the two spares and go back to King’s Landing where it was safe, or jump in a lake for all he cared. But that conversation had been interrupted by the Bloody Mummers, and after that… things were very different after that.

Jaime slows to a stop with this remembrance, digs in his bag for his water bottle and takes a long pull. He’s tiring faster than he expected. He has tried to keep himself in fighting shape the last few years, but he hasn’t made a journey like this in a long time.

You’ve grown soft, he thinks, but inside his head it sounds like Brienne’s gentle ribbing. The tone she had taken after she stopped insulting him for real.

I’m refined, he answers back, slinging his pack over his shoulder and walking again. Answers between breaths, like he’s actually speaking. I’m a diplomat these days, remember? 

Will you try to negotiate with the Others then? She laughs in his ear. What will you trade them, wine? Broken electronics? The only economy they know is violence, and we trade them blows. 

He smiles to himself, despite everything. Young lady, it’s a good thing you didn’t come back to King’s Landing with me. You would have knocked out the Small Council within a day, and we’d both have been out on our asses.

And King’s Landing would have better off with us in the street than you in that office. We might have saved it. Old man, whatever have you done without me?

Jaime stops a moment, breathing hard, looking up at the moon.

I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ve been doing, where the time went. It all blurred together without you.

He has been having these conversations for years now. It isn’t exactly imagination. More prediction. He knows exactly what she would say in every instance. What she would think of the people he meets, the places he goes. He hears her critiques of his private practice sessions, when he tries to stay in shape for the inevitable invasion. Her quiet, private commentary. Her icy rejoinders to his jokes. They come to him like a reply. Like she has heard him gods-know-how-many miles away, and answered him back. 

It’s painful now, hearing her voice. He doesn’t know why it would be different - alive or dead, he is only talking to himself after all. Perhaps it is only more obviously futile this way, knowing she is gone. 

He was never going to see her again, he knows that. The things she does, they were always eventually going to get her killed. Hells, he told her that himself more than once. 

Even now it still isn’t entirely real to him. It doesn’t seem possible. But the Spider knows things, and if he knows them they aren’t just rumors. It’s true. It’s sinking in. Brienne is gone. 

She doesn’t walk the same world as him anymore. He will hear no more tales of her adventures, and smile privately at the things nobody else knows of her. He will not wonder if it snows where she is, or if the sun shines. Whether she ever thinks of him, the way he does of her. They traveled together only a year, but she carved a place for herself in him, in the slow and brutal way water carves a cliffside. He has kept her there all this time. Now in that space there is emptiness, a brutal, sucking vacuum that might just pull him apart if he stops moving long enough.

So he starts walking again. Keeps walking, on and on, without rest, for as long as he can stand it.

Here and there one of the Others comes onto the road ahead of him. They wander on and off aimlessly, looking lost. At a distance they look nearly alive, so long as they aren’t missing any limbs, and only the directionless of their movements give them away. As you get closer you can see their clothing is wrong -- it’s not enough clothes for the weather, or their clothes are torn, bits are missing. Maybe the clothes are rotting right off their bodies, if they’re been out long enough. Closer still and you can see the blueish tinge to the skin that the Others are famous for, the thin layer of frost that covers them head to toe. At ten feet or so you can make out the ice blue eyes that glow like cat’s eyes in the light. But by then they’ve seen you, and they move much faster than you think they can. Best not to get that close. Best to stay well away, and let them turn and wander in another direction out of sight. 

As always, one wonders what they’re looking for. Where they’re going.

Some of them will wander away before he catches up, and he pays them no mind. If he is quiet, and they didn’t take notice of him, it is easier to let them pass by. Fighting can be loud, and that sort of noise could bring more of them running.

But eventually one is too slow. They can be damaged, and those stumbling steps can be frustratingly deliberate at times. This one is fairly tall, and drags its foot in the snow. On the highway, it reminds him of an elderly driver occupying the fast lane at a crawl. Even as he slows his pace, he gets closer and closer, and the dead thing shows no signs of changing direction.

Eventually he can wait no longer. He will have to overtake the creature. At least he hasn’t seen any other Others nearby. This Other shows no sign of noticing him. Jaime slowly draws the axe off his back, and makes six rapid, long strides in the thing’s direction, winding up for a massive crossways swing.

Varys didn’t lie; the axe cuts true. One good blow across the back is enough to bring it down, and he remembers where to strike. Sever the spinal cord, destroy the brain, or burn them, that destroys them. The axe is so sharp it cuts the thing nearly in half. There is a quick, sharp sound of impact and the thud of a body hitting the ground, and then silence. 

They don’t scream, the others. They don’t make noises of any kind. Maybe because they don’t breathe anymore; who knows. He pulls the axe out of the thing’s bulk and wipes it in the snow. 

The first Other to fall to him in five years that he didn’t hit with his car. It feels good. It doesn’t relieve the great sucking void he has inside him but it does feel good.

He shoulders the axe and keeps walking. After that, he strikes down one of them every few hours, until the sun comes up, and then he huddles on the embankment, dozing, for most of the morning. It’s not so cold he’ll freeze - not yet, anyway - and there aren’t so many Others around that he can’t risk it.

He’s lucky, for the most part. There aren’t any big clusters of Others out here. Those tend to form up around settlements and cities, or lingering around empty houses. Not out here in the open space, where there aren’t travelers anymore. 

He passes the next night in a car, after crawling in a broken window. It’s not especially safer, but it is more comfortable than the ground. He sprawls across the backseat and thinks about the red wood-paneled station wagon he had found buried in a parking lot and managed to start. He and Brienne drove that car all the way to Harrenhall, the now five children sleeping in the back. The seat was so wide even Brienne could lay down in it, and she was inches taller than him. 

This car is blue, and he has to bend his knees and curl up to fit on the seat.

Keep watch for me, Angel, he tells her, before he drifts off.

Days of steady walking pass this way, with fitful bursts of sleep. 

The Black Mountains are looming in the far distance when he nears Winterfell. So tall he can see them all these miles away, staining the low edge of the horizon like a shadow. 

Jaime keeps his eyes on the ground mostly. He’s only been here once, and it wasn’t an enjoyable visit. It was a destination, and it meant the end of a long journey. He’s never much liked those. Endings. He tries to get those over with. If he can help it, he’d rather turn around and begin again right away, try to get back to the middle.

Wintertown is relatively intact, patrolled by fur-clad soldiers with shotguns. The town has grown since he was here last. The streets have people on them now, much more than in Lannisport or anywhere in the Riverlands. No cars, but regular people, old folks and even children, strolling about. He has to stop and stare at that for awhile. Pedestrians. It’s been a long time.

Perhaps things are better in the North? Maybe they are safer than they were. But Wintertown is small, and easily guarded, and in the shadow of the old Winterfell fortress these people know they can flee within its walls and be safe, should the Others attack again. That’s more reassurance than most places have. 

For a little while he walks up and down those streets, just another window-shopper. The buildings are mostly refitted as residences, but on the sidewalks people sell goods out of carts, or spread out on the sidewalk. Wanderers come through and trade the trinkets they’ve found. There aren’t prices. Most likely they will take food, and medicine, and more practical items, in trade. He didn’t bring anything like that, unfortunately. But there isn’t anything he needs here.

At the end of a long boulevard Jaime finds himself before the gates of Winterfell, and he pauses.

This was where he had parted from her. Right here.

He grimaces past that memory. He was an ass about it, of course. Tried to sneak away. She caught him. There was a confrontation. Things were said. 

Things? Brienne-in-his-mind prods him indignantly. Have you forgotten already?

I remember every word. He sighs. Unfortunately.

The gates to Winterfell stand open for now. Probably so that Wintertown can run inside, if someone rings the alarm. Jaime passes through and takes the gravel path to the old castle. It’s a sturdy thing, for being several hundred years old. Solid and undecayed. Sure, they have to replace the wood every few decades, but the stone is thick and unbroken. There are walls behind walls, like any medieval keep, and courtyards and gates separating them. Guards stand atop the fortifications with guns, and they watch him approaching. Wary, but welcoming. Anyone not undead is allowed to pass through, at least to the midden.

The kids are here at Winterfell, probably. Somewhere. Many of them stayed, he has heard. The Starks for sure, and maybe some of the other strays he and Brienne had picked up along the way. Any of the running kids in Wintertown could have been Apple, that baby that Willow and Sansa had fawned over. He would be five, six years old now. That is, if he were alive. 

He doesn’t want to see any of them if he can help it. Best not to go inside the Great Keep then. He goes to the Great Hall instead. The velvet ropes are all taken down. It was a tourist trap for a lot of years, before its fortifications became unexpectedly useful again. Used to be you could get a feast inside, with cosplayers and a jester and a bard, and then you could get back in your car and drive away home. 

Bit different now. The fires are still roaring, but put to more practical use. Broken furniture surrounds the great fireplaces where they have been stripping the upholstery and feeding the fire. Laundry is strung up before them, and boils in great kettles. Nearer to mealtime the laundry will be replaced with soup and stew. The fireplaces in the living quarters had been stripped out long ago, replaced with appliances that no longer work. They have to do nearly everything in the great hall now, and gather in smaller rooms. 

The head washerwoman takes his message back to the living quarters and Jaime sits down to wait. There is an armchair that is strikingly comfortable for as old as it looks, upholstered in a velvety material. It might be some kind of antique, something with a PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign on it back when this was a museum. There isn’t much use for antiques anymore. He sits in the chair.

He sits back and stares at nothing for a time. He might have fallen asleep, because the girls appear as if by magic, just as he remembers them but taller and leaner, their chubby faces hollowed by early adulthood. 

Sansa is quite tall, for a Stark anyway. She looks like her mother otherwise; red-haired, high-cheekboned, very pretty. Her sister looks like their father, sturdy and strong-jawed, Northern. They stare at him owlishly, and he wonders what he looks like to them. He is not nearly so changed -- grew a beard, added some lines around his eyes -- but they were children when they saw him last, and they are not children now. He has to look up to see them.

“You came for Brienne,” Arya says abruptly -- as usual she realizes the obvious first and doesn’t hesitate to speak it aloud. 

Jaime nods. There isn’t much more to say than that.

“We had a memorial,” Sansa hovers over him awkwardly, looking unsure. “All of Winterfell came, much of Wintertown as well. We would have waited if we had known you would come.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He says it more sharply than he intends.

Arya snaps back. “You’ve been gone a long time, and not a single letter. What else could we think?”

Sansa stops her with a hand to her shoulder. She was always an empathetic child. “You’re welcome here now. Can I get you anything?”

“Your brother. If he’s here.” His eyes drift to Widow’s Wail, where it sits on the floor beside him. “I’ve heard he was there when it happened. I need to hear it from him.”

Sansa leans forward and touches his hands, briefly. “We can take you to him.”

He can only nod. 

He follows the girls through the old fortress into a more modern living area. Home, most like. The Starks have all congregated here, the ones left.

Jon Snow he has never met before. The girls’ half-brother. Lord Snow of Winterfell, now. He stands straight and stiff, trying to look older than he is. He has a warm parka on over his polar fleece, something puffy and filled with down. It’s hard to be serious in a puffy coat without coming off at least faintly ridiculous, but the young man manages it somehow. 

“She was a great help to my family,” Jon says, and shakes his hand vigorously. “A great fighter, the bravest of all of us, and the kindest too. Every one of us here at Winterfell thought very highly of her.”

“And your mission?” Jaime shuts down the reminiscence quickly. He does not want to remember Brienne here. Certainly not with the Starks.

Jon hangs his head. “It wasn’t a complete waste. But it wasn’t quite what we wanted, either.”

He gestures to a sofa. Jaime sits on the edge of it, unwilling to relax. This is rather too much civilization for him right now. Jon sits down expansively on an easy chair, and runs a hand through wild black hair. 

“We were hoping to find something that would explain where the Others come from. We thought the Black Mountains might have the answer, the mountains and the land beyond. It’s hard to find much on the Mountains though -- only one road is passable, everywhere else is ice and deep snow. Beyond the Mountains there is a place they’re calling Craster’s Keep. We knew something was very wrong there. We should have stayed away.” Jon shakes his head, so serious. 

Jaime waits.

“We suspected they were colluding with the Others somehow. The ones on the Mountain. The old man… it was terrible. What he was doing. We had to put a stop to it. Brienne followed one of the men to their meeting place, where the Others come down the Mountain. She never came back.”

That is rather less definitive than Jaime wants to hear. 

“That’s all? Did you search?” he asks sharply.

Jon looks defensive at first, but softens quickly. “I assure you, if there was anything to find, we would have found it. We were very fond of her. There were signs of a battle, and several Others fallen there. But of her there was no sign. There was no body.” Jon looks reluctant to continue. “We did find this.”

Hesitantly, he holds out the wrapped bundle to Jaime. He knows it immediately. Takes it like he took the grenades, carefully and reluctantly.

His hands unwrap the thing before he can think twice, to show himself what he already knows. It’s Brienne’s titanium bat. Bloodstained, dirty, with a single chip in it near the tip. 

They had nicknamed it Oathkeeper, way back then. It was more like a mythical sword than a bat. Titanium bats weren’t even allowed in baseball, in any league. They hit the ball so hard it was dangerous to the other players. They probably shouldn’t have been made in the first place, and they stopped making them decades before the Others came and their true usefulness became apparent. 

Jaime holds the bat. Brienne had carried this thing for so long. He puts his fingers where she would have put hers, the way a player held it  to hit a ball. He can see the mark of her fingers there, slowly rubbed into the metal across the years. 

Jon is still talking. “These Others are different. Our Others will kill and turn. But these... We suspect that they consume the bodies instead of raising them. I think there was nothing remaining to find.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jaime stands.

“If you will insist…” Jon rises as well, solemn. “My friend Sam stayed behind there. If you reach Craster’s Keep, ask for Sam. He’ll tell you what you need to know.”

*****************  

He passes a night there, lying awake in a bed. 

They gave him her room. A quiet, out-of-the-way guest bedroom with little in the way of modern amenities. It has a homey feeling, just the same. It feels like her.

She left some things there; little knick-knacks. She liked to pick up small things, put them in her pockets. Her coat had loads of pockets hidden everywhere. By the end of the day she would have lots of little treasures. You could turn her upside down and shake her and all sorts of shiny treats would come rolling out. Figurines, stones, tiny toys. They’re arranged all around the room, on the windowsill, on the dresser. Probably if he went through her clothes he would find more things still hidden away in her pockets. The coat, though, that wouldn’t be there in the closet, he knows without looking. She would have it with her, wherever she has gone.

Jaime leaves her things alone. It’s enough to know they’re there, waiting for her. 

Brienne slept in this bed. This is the only home she had, so far as he knows. She stayed here after he left, here at Winterfell. She would have rested here -- she was still a little sick. It had been a few weeks, at least, before she went back to the Kingsroad. After that she came back here between adventures, making the long, dangerous journey there and back again. In the dead of winter she would rest here at least a month, from what he could tell, every year.

He should have stayed with her. 

She never asked him. Not out loud. But he knows, deep down, he would have been welcome. He knew it then, too. But he had left her at Winterfell and gone back. Back to the arms of his family who needed him more than she ever would. Back to his father and his expectations, to his siblings who needed his protection. The job was over, and he went back to where he belonged. 

Not a day has gone by that he doesn’t regret it. 

************************

In the morning he is lacing his new boots in the great hall, a gift from Jon. They are a little large, but warm, and useful for maneuvering on ice. He suspects they had once belonged to Ned Stark; certainly none of the Stark boys have feet this big.

Jon has also given him a down parka like his own. Such a thing would fetch a lot in trade these days, but he insists Jaime take it. “This is the least I can do, for bringing my brother and sisters home.” 

Jaime promises to return it, though he can see that Jon does not expect to see him at Winterfell again. Neither of them do.

His pack has been refilled with food, bandages, antiseptic, and an icepick. Arya had thrust the bag at him wordlessly and turned on her heel and left and he does not see her again. How much and how little people change from when they are small; he can still see the dark-eyed child in the woman she is becoming. It makes him feel positively ancient.

Sansa accompanies him to the gates of Winterfell, gliding elegantly over the snow in her warm winter coat. She chatters as much as she always did, though it was never to him before. She used to keep her distance from him, as she had from most men. She misses Brienne, he realizes, looking at her. She must have been like an older sister, or an aunt, or...

He never did lay eyes on Rickon, did he? He is probably running wild somewhere, running with the wolves. He doesn’t ask, though he suspects Sansa would like him to. Nor does he ask about Willow, or Gendry, or any of the others. He has too much to carry already.

“You’re different,” Sansa tells him, nearing the gates.

“You’re older,” he says. “You see me better.”

“Maybe.” The auburn beauty frowns. “Do you think she’s still alive out there?”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to see the concern on her face, not if it’s for him.

“Do you think Brienne would want you to do this? Go after her like this?”

No. “That won’t stop me.” 

“She would want you to go on with your life.”

“I don’t care.” He can’t quite look at Sansa. He couldn’t look at Arya either. They remind him of too much. 

“Why did you never come back? She waited for you. She was still waiting.”

He shuts his eyes against her. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t. Not now.”

Sansa sniffles, and her voice trembles. “I’m so sorry. You were both so good to us. I’m so sorry,” she repeats, and tries to put her arms around him, but he’s already walking away.

He’s going through the gates of Winterfell, straight down the boulevard of Wintertown.

He doesn’t stop. He turns to the Black Mountains, and keeps walking.

[waitimcomingtoo]

fine line - p.p

chapter 5

pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: there’s a fine line between love and hate and you and Peter dance it on a regular basis

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Peter found you in the kitchen the next morning, smiling shyly you as he stood in the door. Unsure of how to interact after the night before, he kept his distance as to not overwhelm you. You nodded towards the empty seat next to you, and a relieved smile appeared on Peters face as he grabbed a cereal bowl and joined you at the table. You silently pushed the milk towards him, feeling your face heat up when his fingertips brushed yours.

“Thanks.” Peter said as he poured the milk into his bowl.

“You’re welcome.” You kept your eyes down, focused on your cereal as you raked your brain for something better to say.

“So, am I like your girlfriend now or-“

“I would like that very much.” Peter said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment at how desperate he sounded. You laughed at his eagerness, feeling inclined to lean in and kiss him right there at the kitchen table. He happily kissed you back as soon as he was able to stop smiling. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, already enjoying this version of your relationship with him.

“I like you so much.” Peter mumbled, peering at your through his eyelashes.

“I like you too.” You giggled, still finding it funny to hear those words from your own mouth.

“Well, this is quite a turn of events.” Tony commented as he entered the room, making you and Peter jump apart.

“We were just-“ Peter began.

“Save it, skip. FRIDAY logged you going into my daughters room last night but never logged you going out. My guess was you snapped and killed each other or finally kissed and made up. I’m assuming it’s the latter, no?” Tony raised his eyebrows, asking a question he already knew the answer to.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Peter apologized. “All we did was talk and sleep. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t need details.” Tony stuck out his tongue and gagged. “Just try not to break my daughters heart, yeah spiderling? Mark 45 is getting a bit rusty and would be more than happy to take you out.”

“I won’t, Mr. Stark.” Peter said confidently

“Good. Because if it came down to you or her, I’d pick my princess every time. No offense.” Tony waved his hand dismissively as a surprised smile crossed your face.

“Really?” You wondered after his recent actions implies the opposite.

“Oh, absolutely.” Tony said like it was obvious. “Peters great and all, but nobody compares to you. You are a Stark, after all. That means you’re predestined to be better than the rest.”

“Thanks, Daddy. It’s nice to hear that.” You grinned, his words meaning more to you than he knew.

“Don’t get too excited. You’ll be less happy to hear that we have to head to Florida tonight to check out some psychedelic weapons being sold. Should be a drag but that’s what we’re here for.” Tony pulled at his collar and grimaced.

“We?” You asked hesitantly. “As in me too?”

“Well Romeo here is great and all, stupendous really, but I’ve missed you by my side.” Tony said causally. “And also you don’t make the whole jet smell like axe body spray and Proactive.”

“It’s Clean and Clear, sir.” Peter corrected your father, retreating when Tony shot him a look.

“Well, you should pack. We leave after dinner. Plenty of time to say goodbye to lover boy.” Tony shrugged, making you and Peter flush. “Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that. See you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You nodded eagerly as Peter squeezed your hand under the table.

Tony winked and knocked the table twice before exiting the kitchen.

“Did you say something to him?” You looked curiously at Peter once your dad was out of earshot. “It’s been over a month since he’s taken me on a mission. And I’m pretty sure I’m the least qualified person in this tower to recovery illegal weapons.”

“Would you be mad if I did?” Peter asked, scrunching his face nervously. You looked at Peter fondly before grabbing his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you.” You whispered as you rested your forehead against his once again. “Thanks for being patient with me.”

“You were worth waiting for.” Peter smiled softly as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “I still want you to clean up your cereal bowls though.”

“I’ll think about it.” You giggled, moving your spoon around in your cereal. “As long as you promise not to dip your fingers in my brownie batter.”

“Gross.” A voice came from in front of you, startling you and Peter. You looked up and saw Drax with a bowl of cereal in hand, staring directly at you and Peter.

“Drax?” You shrieked. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m visiting the city. I always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a child.” He deadpanned before slowly raising his spoon to his mouth.

“How long have you been there?” Peter stared at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t know.” Drax thought. “When did Iron Man come in?”

“A few minutes ago.” You shrugged, still staring at him in confusion.

“Long before that.” Drax concluded, making you and Peter look at each other.

“Oh my God.” You groaned.

“Could you give us a few minutes?” Peter asked with a fake smile.

“Okay.” Drax nodded and walked out of the room.

“So as I was-

“How many?” Drax popped back in and interrupted Peter.

“What?” Peter asked, growing annoyed.

“How many minutes do you need?” Drax wondered.

“A lot.” Peter stated through gritted teeth.

“All of them, if we’re honest.” You mumbled.

“Okay. Bye guys.” Drax waved and left the room again.

“Bye.” Peter grunted, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “Where were we? I forget.”

“I could try and remind you.” You smiled as you leaned in to kiss him. Right before your lips could touch, the doorbell rang. You hung your head in disappointment and sighed.

“Oh my God. What now?” You whined.

“I’ll get it. Stay here.” Peter rubbed your arm comfortingly and made his way to the door. Peter opened the door to find a clean cut brunette in a crisp button down.

“Hey.” The boy smiled. “FRIDAY let me up.”

“Oh, okay.” Peter nodded. “And you are?”

“Harry Osborn.” The boy said, making Peters heart stop. “You’re Peter right? Y/n has told me a thing or two about you. Is she here?”

“In the bathroom.” Peter fibbed. “Can I ask why you’re here?”

“We cut our date short last night so I thought I’d surprise her.” Harry replied.

“How nice. She’s gonna be really really surprised.” Peter began to sweat, not knowing how to deal with his new girlfriends almost boyfriend.

“Yeah. I’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend today.” Harry announced, making Peters heart stop. “I’ve waited too long, you know? And hot billionaires don’t fall into your lap everyday.”

“I don’t…” Peter trailed off, looking over his shoulder at you in the kitchen. You gave him a friendly wave, and he waved back before turning to Harry. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why?” Harry sized Peter up, unhappy with his answer.

“Well, she came home really upset last night.” Peter began, which was partially true. “I don’t think she wants to see you anymore.”

“What?” Harry laughed in disbelief. “Did she tell you that?”

“Yeah. She told me.” Peter folded him arms, standing his ground.

“Why would she tell you that?” Harry cocked his head. “She hates you.”

“She doesn’t hate me.” Peter snapped, his jaw locking.

“Hate to break it to you, Dude, but she does. You’re all she talks about. Hang on, fantasy football.” Harry held up a finger as he checked his phone, putting it away after seemingly reading something he liked. “Anyway, she said you were the worst thing that ever happened to her.”

“Well that’s not what she thought last night.” The words left Peters mouth before he could think them through, but he didn’t mind the look it left on Harry’s face. Peter smirked as Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You two...”

“Yeah, we’re together.” Peter shrugged with his arms still folded. “Looks like you waited too long.”

“Wow. I guess there really is a fine line between love and hate.” Harry laughed bitterly, as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, she and I have built a permanent residence on that line.” Peter told him. “Sorry about it.”

“Alright. I better go then.” Hardy said coldly, burning holes in Peter with his eyes.

“Thanks for stopping by.” Peter smiled widely as he shut the door. He returned to you in the kitchen, guilt building up in the back of his mind.

“Who was that?” You asked from the kitchen sink as you rinsed your bowl. Peter smiled at you listening to what he asked you to do, but it quickly faded.

“Uhh, Mailman.” He lied to you, adverting his eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“Really? Why did he come to this floor?” You chuckled curiously as you put your bowl in the dishwasher. “He usually leaves it in the mailbox in the lobby.”

“Oh well he wanted to see the main floor.” Peter said weakly. “Can’t blame him, the interior decoration is really something to behold.”

“You’re acting funny. Do you feel okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows, pressing the back of your hand to Peters forehead to check his temperature.

“I’m fine. Just happy to be with you.” Peter shrugged as he held your hands in his, his conscience getting the better of him by the minute. You noticed the sweat building on his forehead and slowly let go of his hands.

“Peter, where’s the mail?”

“The what?” Peter wondered before he remembered. “Oh, there was none.”

“Who was at the door, Peter?” You asked suspiciously, your face hardening as you broke through his web of lies.

“Harry. But I got rid of him!” Peter said quickly when your face showed signs of anger.

“Got rid of him how?” You demanded.

“I told him we were together.” Peter said timidly, weary of how you’d react.

“What?” You exclaimed. “Peter!”

“Whats wrong? We are together.” He reminded you, getting the feeling you wanted to hide that fact.

“That doesn’t mean he needed to know that. And he definitely didn’t need to find out like this.” You crossed your arms. “That’s not fair to him. Do you know how heart broken I’d be if he did that to me?”

“You said the date was lame. And you have a boyfriend now, so who cares?” Peter shrugged dismissively, growing frustrated over you caring about Harry’s feelings.

“I do, Peter.” You raised your voice. “Yeah the date was lame but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be blown off. He’s a person with feelings. He deserved to hear it from me.”

“Apparently he’s heard a lot of things from you.” Peter matched your anger. “Like how much you hate me, for instance.”

“What are you talking about?” You shook your head in confusion.

“You told him I was the worst thing that ever happened to you. Is that true? That’s how you feel?” Peters voice wavered between angry and upset as his eyes desperately searched your face for answers.

“I used to feel like that, but not anymore.” You retorted. “You know how I feel about you now.”

“Do I? Because you seem awfully concerned over hurting Harry’s feelings. Do you still like him?” Peter demanded answers, a mixture of insecurity and jealousy eating away at him.

“No.” You shouted. “I just don’t want to hurt him.“

“You had no problem hurting me when I first moved in.” Peter said coldly.

“And I apologized for that. God, you’re so jealous.” You spat, rolling your eyes at Peter and turning away. He gripped your arm to make you face him again, not enough to hurt you but enough to keep you in place.

“I wouldn’t have to be jealous if you weren’t so indecisive.” He seethed.

“I did decide.” You stepped you to him. “I chose you. But you had no right to send Harry away like that and lie to me about it.”

“Like how you lied about hating me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how it felt to hear him say that?”

“It’s a figure of speech.” You scoffed and yanked your arm out of his grip. “I never actually hated you. Do you have to knit pick everything you hear?”

“Apparently I do since you don’t know how to send a clear message to save your life.” He shouted. “You hate me, you love me, which is it?”

“I hate you!” You screamed, pointing a finger in his face.

“I hate you too!” He yelled back, stepping closer to you so your noses were touching. The fire in his eyes ignited one in your own, making you suck in a sharp breath.

“Good!” You barked.

“God, do you ever stop talking?” He gripped the counter angrily as he stared you down.

“Why don’t you make me stop talking?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“You are the most annoying girl I’ve ever met.” Peter growled as he towered over you.

“You’re no walk in the park either, Parker.” You hissed.

“My name is Peter.” He snarled, griping your hips. “Say it.”

“You wish.” You laughed shortly. That was all Peter needed you hear to push him over the edge. He grabbed your face and pressed a searing kiss to your lips. You clutched his shirt, gripping it firmly to keep him as close as possible as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“Peter.” You mumbled into his ear, making him chuckle when his plan worked.

“Fine line, huh?” He smirked as he held your chin between his fingers.

“Yep.” You laughed breathlessly and kissed him again. “The finest.”

Tag List 🏷

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[the-broken-truth]

The dimitrescu daughters meeting the new centaur or sataur servent-🧑🐾

Broken Truth (Raised eyebrow): A Centaur? That sounds interesting...I don't know a Sataur is so...ONWARD, SYMBOL OF SAGITTARIUS!!! (Whispering: For those of you who don't know - The Centaur is one of the symbols for the Sagittarius - The Archer/Hunter.)

"Daughters! Come here, please." The voice of the Lady of the Castle rung out from the foyer of the castle - the sound of buzzing flies came from three different directions before 3 clouds of bugs came before Alcina and materialized into the bodies of the 3 daughters in front of the tall woman.

"Yes, Mother?" The eldest daughter asked as she looked up to her mother.

"As you all know, I have been looking for ways of making the castle gardens more...modern and beautiful but no one has been able to aid me...until today." Alcina said before she took a long puff from her cigarette.

"Someone to aid with the garden? Who is it? Someone from the village?" Cassandra asked.

"He's not from the village, he lives in the forest but came to the castle seeking work. He's been living off the land for his entire life, along with his family." Alcina explained.

"Another man-thing?" Daniela rolled her eyes.

"Not a man-thing...well...half of him. He's not like anything we've ever since before. When I spoke to him - he called himself a Centaur." Alcina explained.

"A Centaur? What's that?" Cassandra asked before Dani's eyes lit up.

"I read something about mystical creatures that come from different places in the library. I was reading Greek Mythology Creatures yesterday - Centaurs are creatures that are half-horse & half-human; the lower half being the horse part. They are strong warriors, masters of growing anything in any kind of terrain, and there was something else about them I'd rather not repeat." Dani blushed at the last phrase.

"That's a decent description, Daniela. He is currently in the garden - 'leveling out the land' as he said. Just don't startle him and don't disturb him working; if you want to speak to him, wait for him to finish his current project. You may leave, daughters." Alcina said as she turned and walked away.

The 3 sisters looked at each other before nodding and headed in the direction of the gardens.

Due to it being spring - it was warm enough for the sisters to be out without worrying about the cold damaging their bodies. They looked around and saw that most of the ground was bare but the soil looked a lot darker - fresher.

The sudden sound of hooves galloping along the soil made them look to the right and their eyes opened wide as they laid upon a large figure. The bottom of the figure's body was of a black horse with white socks and very muscular legs and a firm body. When they continued up the body to reach the human half - he had dark tan skin with an 8-pack of muscles on his stomach. His long arms, strong arms were wrapped around a rope as he was pulling out a very large old stump that was sitting in the middle of the garden for years.

The sisters watched as the stump began to be uprooted, leaving a large hole in the center of the ground. He wiped the sweat off his body before he began to turn and place the rope on his shoulder to pull forward when his golden eyes landed on the 3 girls standing there.

"Hello, Young Mistress!" His voice was very deep but kind. "Did you need something?"

"Hmmm...Not at the moment. Mother told us about the new garden servant and told us we could greet you if we wished to." Bela said with wide eyes at the creature's smile.

"I am grateful that you would grace me with your presence. My name is Xander." He bowed to the young girls.

"A pleasure to meet you, Xander. My name is Bela, these are my sisters - Cassandra and Daniela." Bela introduced herself and her sisters.

"A true pleasure to meet you all. Please forgive me but I must finish leveling the ground so that I could place the new stones Lady Dimitrescu picked out. I'll aid you within the hour, Young Mistresses." Xander bowed again before he began pulling the large stump over to an axe and began chopping it to bits before going over to the piles of stones he was given.

The entire time - the girls watched him work with the stones as he set the stones around the large hole- some stone was white while other were golden. Once he was done setting the stones - The Crest of House Dimitrescu sat in the center of the garden.

"Well done, Xander." the Lady of the Castle appeared before the Centaur as he was drying his hands of sweat.

"Of course, Lady Dimitrescu. The stones are set and the planters and ready - I just need are the seeds or flowers and I'll have your garden blooming." He said.

"You can do that tomorrow." She handed him a pouch of money. "Here's your payment for today's work. Please turn around 1 tomorrow afternoon." Alcina said.

"Of course, My Lady." He gave one last bow before he vaulted over the fence and galloped in the forest.

"So, what did you girls think of him?" Alcina asked her daughters.

"He was nice." Bela said.

"Very respectful." said Cassandra.

"He has a big di-" Dani was cut off as her sisters covered her mouth and dragged her away, leaving their mother there confused.