#THIS IS FALSE BECAUSE ACTUALLY YOU DESERVE THE WORLD i just haven't figured out how to navigate shipping on that yet >:(

[miraclewoozi]

you always hype me so good ;o; i don't deserve u as an oomf or a moot

i would take on the world with my bare hands for you and i hope you know that.

[honeybunnybeez]

Did you even...? (ANGST)

♡ Prisoner!c!Dream x GN!Reader, (Mention of past poly!dream team x reader)

♡ Summary: You pay an old friend a visit. You just need to get something off your chest.

This place seemed to be even creepier on the inside than on the outside and stepping foot into the prison gave you immediate chills. You look over to Sam, who strides through the hall with no issue at all. Well, that does make sense, he did build the place after all. He knew the prison like the back of his hand.

He gives you a quick glance before breaking the silence and asking,

"You sure you wanna do this?"

"If I don't do it now, I'll never do it. Might as well take advantage of the situation while it's safe, right?"

He doesn't say anything in response, and while it does leave a slightly awkward tension in the air, you think it's for the best.

After going through the countless safety measures, you finally make it to the bridge.

"Stand back, let the lava wall fall first."

You nod, feeling your chest starting to tighten up from how nervous you're feeling. As the wall falls, you can see a cell in the distance, and in that cell, a very familiar figure.

You start to feel hesitant when you see him and soon you start to rethink your decision as well.

"I-"

"Last chance, (Y/n). Do you want to do this?" Sam asks, his voice now firmer than before. "I won't be able to follow you, but just know that he won't be able to harm you in there."

You take a deep breath and remind yourself once again, now or never. Do it while he can't properly hurt you, while he can't manipulate you, while you still want to give him a piece of your mind. If you don't let it out now you'll regret never taking this chance.

"Y-yeah, I want this. I have to do this."

Sam doesn't say anything else and turns his attention to the many switches on the wall. "Stand on the bridge and hold onto the railings tight. The moment the bridge connects to the cell hop off quick."

You nod and step onto the bridge.

Upon seeing that it truly is you, Dream is quick to walk towards you but the netherite wall stops him from getting too close too soon. You were here, actually here, visiting him. He hasn't see you in ages, not since he left you three and you still look so-

"Dream?"

...you still look so lovely.

Despite his blank look, he seems dead tired and for the first time in a long while, you actually feel sympathetic towards him, but that doesn't mean you were going to go easy on him. No, it's going to take a while before you find yourself comforting him. Though, despite what you tell yourself you still have to hold back from holding him like you used to do.

As the lava falls back down, along with the netherite wall, you let yourself step over that line, approaching closer towards him and he does the same too.

"(Y/n)."

You let out a sigh, a hand covering your face as you try to get your emotions in check. So many things to say but the dull ache you feel is a reminder that you have so little time, but you do know what to start off with. With a deep breath you finally say what you've been dying to tell him,

"You absolute fucking asshole."

You can't help the venom that seep into your voice as you utter those words and Dream can feel his heart break a little as you use that tone with him. This wasn't your usual teasing insults anymore, you were furious and your voice more than shows it.

"All of this, and for what, Dream?" You ask him.

'For power, for absolute control,' a part of him thinks to himself, but he can't find the courage to say it to you. He can't make things worse than it already is.

"I'm sure Sapnap told you, he never could keep his feelings to himself," the way he so casually says it makes you want to slap his mask right off. If only he was there to hear Sapnap claim that Dream never cared about them, how devastating it was to hear those words.

"You're a selfish prick,"

He is, isn't he?

"Such a greedy motherfucker,"

He's come to terms with that a long time ago.

"...An absolute heartbreaking bitch."

...He didn't expect to fall this hard, (Y/n), he didn't know he'd fall in love too.

Tears start to fall as everything grows to be too much from all the sorror and frustration you're letting out with each word you say. You try your best to wipe them away but it's no use. It just hurts. You wish George and Sapnap were here to comfort you, to hug you, but they weren't and you aren't going to simply hug the monster in front of you no matter how much you want to. As much as it hurts you can't find it in you to stop talking just yet though.

"Was what we all had just a joke to you?" You manage to sob out.

He stiffens a bit as his thoughts race. Inside he's begging you to stop, to please don't ask him that question.

"Was it fun? Y'know- stringing me, Sapnap and George along, saying such loving words. Sharing all those gentle kisses and late night giggles. Were those moments just fake to you?"

(Y/n) please.

"Dream,"

What can he say, what do you want him to say? Please, (Y/n) he doesn't know what to say-

"Did you even fucking love us?"

'Yes,' something inside of him screams, the part inside of him that he tried desperately to ignore ever since he left you three. He wants to shout out his answer, wants to hold you close and never let go, but he can't, because he knows damn well he doesn't deserve it and it kills him everytime he thinks about it. He doesn't deserve you and them.

His silence and blank stare breaks your heart, but at the same time, it also... relieves you, to know that you don't have to cling to any false hope. To know that you can just let go knowing nothing between you four were ever real to him.

You let out a hiccup and a shuddering sigh. Unclenching the fists you never knew you were clenching to begin with. You have so much to say, but you think you've finally reached your limit, so you focus on calming yourself, starting to feel foolish for losing it in front of him.

Silence between you two filled the room, with you looking down at the floor refusing to even glance at him and Dream not moving from where he stands, his thoughts fighting with one another as he thinks about what he should do or say.

Before Dream can open his mouth he sees you starting to sway a little bit. You feel yourself starting to grow weaker as your sobbing slowly stops and the dull ache from before is becoming unbearable, and that's when you realize the potion was still in effect. Your time was running out, you have to leave soon.

You accept whats coming, you said your piece, and even though you still feel like shit, a slight weight has been lifted off your chest . You got to meet him, and finally got to say what you wanted, face to face. You feel satisfied, at least for now.

"(Y/n)," his voice starts to sound like a distant echo as your head starts to throb.

"Don't... please don't say anything...," you feel the room start to spin and you're slowly losing your balance.

"(Y/n), please listen-"

"...I can't Dream. I can't-," and with that, you feel your heart stop and see the world around you turn black for just a moment before you wake up on the bed Sam had told you to set your spawn at. Your head is in a daze as you look around to check your surroundings. At that moment, it all felt so surreal, but you knew better than to think it was fake.

"...Fuck," you literally can't find anything else to say, feeling speechless and a little emotional.

"Feel better?" Sam asks as he walks over to check you over.

"Yeah, I think so..." a ping can be heard as your communicator goes off and it's from Sapnap.

You told him you'd be visiting the prison a few hours before but you weren't expecting him to come and pick you up, he even brought Quackity and Karl with him too. It's a pleasant surprise after that whole situation at least.

"Best not to keep them waiting, (Y/n)."

You let out a final hiccup before laughing softly, wiping away the remaining tears from your face.

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Sam."

(Bonus!)

Before your souless body can hit the floor, Dream is quick to catch it and hold it as it starts to slowly fade. He starts to feel some of the tears he's been holding back fall and he doesn't bother to stop them. Instead, he just hugs your body closer to him. It doesn't feel the same with how cold and light it feels, but it's better than nothing.

As your body slowly starts to dissapear, he can't help but whisper out a string of apologies to it, pretending like you three can hear his voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

But no matter how hard he pleads, no voices answer back, only the soft flowing of lava and his screaming throughts return to be his only company.

Notes: Hello! Thank you so much for reading this if you did! I haven't written fanfic in ages so I may be hella hecking rusty. I'm also really sorry if this is beyond ooc and dramatic! I'll try to get better as time goes on!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

[calumxkisses]

Yellow | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: prince!calum au - you're his yellow and he's yours.

a/n: hi! 'm not really good with au imagines but i hope you'll like it. let me know what you think of this imagine. love you!

this imagine its inspired by the song: yellow

✰ ✰ ✰

“Yellow.” A sudden voice makes you jump. You close the book you’re reading as you place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating quickly.

The library is huge, the storm lights barely illuminate the room, making it almost impossible to find your way around and read without the help of candles. The smell of old books is strong, there is a lot of dust on the shelves and feeling small near these high shelves make the perfect atmosphere to be able to take refuge from the outside world, from a world made of rules and confined to the land surrounding the property. Your little refuge, however, is interrupted by the presence of this man and you turn around quickly, trying to hide the smile that forms on your face at the sight of the stranger.

Despite the size of the room, the prince appears to be in full control of everything around him. He is standing in front of the door, several meters separate your figure from his, yet you can see the smile he gives you, his hands hidden behind his back and the fine lines near his eyes that underline his amused expression.

“What?” You ask before placing your hand in front of your mouth and widening your eyes. In your mind, a vivid image of your mother scolds you for your language and reminds you that you are no longer a child and that you must be careful when addressing a prince or any other high-ranking social figure.

“I'm sorry for talking to you like that, sir. I'm afraid I don't understand what your 'yellow' refers to.”

Prince Calum laughs briefly before slowly approaching you.

"We've known each other since we were children, we don't need certain formalities."

“My mother says-” you try to justify yourself, but he cuts you off right away.

“Nobody’s here.” He whispers before standing in front of you, keeping some distance to avoid misunderstanding in case someone enters. If it were up to him, there would be no such distance between you, but rules are rules and he would never want to compromise your image.

You look around to make sure no one is spying on you and, sure you are alone with him, you relax your shoulders and jaw, releasing the sigh you were holding back.

“So, yellow?” You ask, smiling, placing the book on the table to your left while you look at the boy, waiting for an answer.

His curly hair is carefully pulled back and the dark circles under his eyes lead you to imagine him sitting at his desk, with a lighted candle next to him and his gaze on the window in front of him, instead of the pages he is holding with his hand, pages he should study in order to become the man his father wants him to be, but that he will never be.

“It was a difficult choice, I will not lie to you. There are so many colors that remind me of you, the red of the dress you wore at your first dance when you entered society, the purple of the vase you broke when you discovered that you have been promised in marriage to an old man or the blue of water of the stream next to the tree where we always go to sit under it. And there are a thousand other colors that I associate to you.”

You smile proudly to hear that he paid attention to every detail and remember how as a child he couldn't even memorize the poems the teachers taught him and the thousand fights you had when you tried in vain to help him learn each verse.

“When I think of you, however, I think back to when you collected Ranunculus repens and put them in your hair, to embellish your hair and feel like the princesses who came to visit us. You always did it and you always took a few more so, when it rained and we couldn't go out, you had your little escort and you could wear them even inside these walls. You always have and if I'm not wrong-”

Calum slowly reaches out his arm towards you, his hand brushes your neck causing you to shiver all over your body, before moving a strand of hair and grabbing something from behind your ear.

“You still wear them.” He whispers, bringing his hand in front of your eyes and showing the small yellow flower you were wearing until a few seconds before.

“They still make me feel like a princess from one of those fairy worlds I read books about.” You whisper, you look down as a sense of shame takes hold in your body. Your heart seems to feel pain as you think back to how you still feel as a child, how you still dream of those fairy tales you hoped you could live one day.

“You're a princess with or without those flowers on, you know it too, you just hope that others see you as you do, too special for a life you don't want to be part of.” He says bringing his fingers under your chin and lifting your face up. His gaze no longer conveys joy and his tone is harsh, an angry expression has taken place on his face.

“Calum..” You try to stop him from speaking that truth you don't want to hear, but his words have broken through your heart and the pain you seemed to feel, now you are definitely feeling. You take a step back, trying to get away from a situation you can't escape from.

“You don't have to do it, you don't have to stay and spend the rest of your life between false smiles and sleepless nights. Your sister will be queen and my father thinks I'm a failure since I was born. Let's run away, me and you. My cottage already has everything we need and I'm sure they will never come looking for us. We will live that fairy tale we imagined for us and we will have the life we ​​always wanted.”

His hand grabs yours and his gaze is on you. You know he's not lying, he told you the love he feels towards you in the dungeons of this same castle and you haven't thought twice before confessing your love to him.

But this castle, these people, is all you have always known.

It’s a world that doesn't belong to you but you can't just leave. There are rules, responsibilities, tasks that you cannot escape.

“It's not that easy, Calum.”

“No, it's not, it's not easy and it won't be. We'll probably end up arguing and you'll regret running away with me. But then you'll think back to all these tight corsets you had to wear, all the formalities you had to comply with and the man you would hold if you have stayed and you will understand that country life is so much better than a life spent in sadness and that that terrible man who made you cry actually loves you madly and just wants what he knows it’s better for you.”

He also grabs the other hand and continues.

“And if you really want to go back, I will be ready to be looked at with scandal by everyone and to take you back to the castle, to face your father and see you held by arms that are not mine.”

You know that it will be hard, but you have never wanted to be a queen. It’s a big responsibility for a girl that just wants to live a fairy tale, that wants to be free in her own terms. You never wanted a kingdom, you never wanted to be property of some old man and certainly you never wanted to spend your existence submitted to someone else’s orders.

You just wanted to be happy, to live your life to the fullest, to love a man who respected you, your dreams, your independence and your passion for flowers and books.

And maybe house cleaning, mud and small rooms will never be like having silk sheets, breakfast prepared by someone else and the floor always clean, but they certainly convey a sense of greater happiness and a life spent in misery and in sadness it’s the dream of those who do not want to fight for what they dream of and are satisfied with mediocrity.

And you don't deserve mediocrity and the guy in front of you knows it well, he sees it in the way you feel uncomfortable during the dances, when your father talks to you about matters you can never take care of because you’re a woman and in the look that you give to your mother when she talks about her marriage, that is only political and not based on love.

You turn to your right, a huge gold mirror near the window reflects the library, the place where you grew up and where you have taken refuge millions of times. You look in the mirror, the diamond earrings reflect the gray of the sky and are too heavy for your ears. Your dress is gorgeous, hand-sewn by the best tailors, yet you don't feel as beautiful as when you wear old, unfashionable clothes and run free for the castle hills, without the fear of getting dirty or ruining expensive dresses.

Your eyes, pupils who love to look at the horizon, are sad, aware that by staying they will not be able to see any wonder. You touch your face, slowly run your hands over your cheeks, over your lips and run your finger over the bridge of your nose, remembering when you were just a little girl and were treated like a normal girl, a girl that loved when her father played with her and touched her nose while making funny noises with his mouth.

Then you look outside. The sky is full of dark clouds, the rain falls incessantly and a few lightning illuminate the afternoon sky. You look at that garden you have walked a thousand times, at all the flowers you have collected and at all the plants you have destroyed while playing with Calum.

You close your eyes thinking about all the places you haven't visited, all the trees you haven't leaned on to read and all the rivers you haven't seen flowing. There is a world out there, you think, that has yet to be discovered. And who are you, if not a woman ready for life's adventures?

“You didn't ask me.” You whisper.

“What?” Calum asks, confused.

“You didn't ask me which color reminds me of you.” You repeat as you slowly turn around to look at him.

A huge smile forms on his face.

“What color do you think when you think of me?”

“When I was ten, one night, I decided to explore the dungeons alone. I wanted to prove to myself that I was able to do anything. I almost made it, I almost managed to face the monster we thought lived in the cells, but then it was all too dark and I ended up going back to my room crying.” You slowly approach him.

“The next night, you showed up in my room with a jar full of fireflies, you gave it to me and whispered "You can do it." I ended up walking through the dungeons with this jar in my hand, you were a few meters behind me to make sure nothing happened to me, but I always knew you were there, even if you tried to hide.”

“I was able to face one of my biggest fears that night. Whatever other problem happened, you were always ready to help me if I needed it, you always supported me, with advice or simply by being close to me, a few steps back to let me free. You were essential in making me grow, while remaining away. Like the stars, who guide the sailors from the sky, they let the sailors do what they believe is right, but they are there to help and guide them if they need it.”

You bring your lips to his ear and whisper: “At midnight, in our place. Don't be late and take the blue carriage, it makes less noise on the street.” You turn around and walk to your room to pack a small bag with all the essentials.

“Wait, you didn't answer my question!” He says turning towards the direction you went.

“You are my yellow, Calum.” You say, you are far away but you know he’s smiling and you smile too.

[herinsectreflection]

I haven't really seen anyone else talk about this parallel, so I'm gonna try. Here we have the two sidekicks of the show both declare what their narrative role is not. Willow claims she is not a "bad guy", but by the end of the season she will emerge as the indisputable Big Bad and try to destroy the world. Xander states, in typical self-critical fashion, that he is not the Hero, but he will be the one who stands against the villain Willow and single-handedly save the world.

That's some pretty cool foreshadowing that I hadn't appreciated before. But I also wonder if it's an intentional attempt from the writers to comment on choice and identity. I wouldn't be surprised if it it was, because these writers fucking love to talk about choice and identity. One of the central ideas of the show is that you always do have a choice in how you react the world around you. You might not have a good choice, but you have a choice. And one of the key ways that you can we interact with the world is by defining our own identity. Others might try to impose roles onto us, but we can reject that and declare our own identity. Every queer and trans fan will be intimately familiar with this concept, and the show uses its own queer metaphor) (being a slayer) to comment on self-identification In Anne, Buffy rejects an attempt to eradicate her identity by declaring her slayer-ness (”Who are you?” / “I’m Buffy. The vampire slayer. And you are?”). In Restless, she does the opposite, rejecting the First Slayer’s attempt to reduce her to solely to a slayer and asserting her human side. (”I walk. I talk. I shop. I sneeze.”)

*(It’s not just a queer thing though - being a slayer is also used as a metaphor for growing up, and part of growing up is deciding who you are and declaring that. Most of these thoughts aren’t really relevant to the queer experience, it was just something I wanted to note)

What is interesting is that in these moments, Buffy declaring her chosen identity is a powerful moment of triumph and catharsis. She says who she is, punches the enemy in the face, and victory music plays. But I think what the show is trying to say now is that that is not enough. As Michael Scott showed us all, just because you declare something, that doesn't make anything happen. Willow justifies her actions in bringing Buffy back on the basis of self-image - she sees herself as Not A Bad Guy, ergo what she did was Not A Bad Thing (implying of course that if a Bad Guy did the same then it would be a Bad Thing). But Willow's actions continue to get more and more morally dubious, revealing the truth - Willow's claim that she is Good is meaningless against the material consequences of her actions. Her perception of herself allows her to take actions that prove that perception false.

One lens you could use to view this, which is far more appropriate than a queer reading at this point, is through the idea of privilege, and how people will deny their own privilege by claiming their identity as a Good Person. So many white people deny the existence of white privilege by saying "well, I'm not A Racist". They think that they can brush away any benefit they receive from white supremacy, any complicity in unconsciously upholding racist ideas and racist institutions, by simply not identifying as A Racist.

This season is filled with others declaring their own narrative role, but failing to actually live up to it. The Trio call themselves Buffy's nemeses(eses), but that insistence doesn't make them anything other than sad little boys playing dress-up. It is especially notable in Dead Things, where Jonathan and Andrew are shocked when told that their mind-control of Katrina constitutes rape, because they don’t perceive themselves as rapists. Spike sees himself as a romantic lead, "deserving" of Buffy's love, but his actions in Seeing Red prove that untrue. He doesn’t understand why Buffy can’t just love him, when he’s obviously a suave Byronic hero. Buffy has to spell it out (”Ask me again why I could never love you”). Anya's arc has shades of this theme, though it won't be fully explored until Selfless next season.

Xander I think is the more positive flip-side of this. Because he doesn’t think of himself as a hero, he has the humility to simply turn up and be there for Willow “just to hang”. He doesn’t try and save the day all guns blazing - if he had, Willow would’ve blasted him to pieces. He’s not the archetypical Hero, he’s the sidekick - the Zeppo. His self-identification as just a guy who turns up and helps out is what allows him to be the exact hero that this story needs - a guy who turns up, just to be there if Willow needs him.

Buffy herself constantly struggles to fulfil the roles she tries to all season - whether that be Buffy the vampire slayer, Buffy the retail worker, Buffy the mother figure. So she constructs an identity that justifies her own struggles - Buffy the Came Back Wrong. If she says she came back wrong, then that justifies all her actions (not that her actions need justifying necessarily, but they do in Buffy's mind), and she can claim helplessness. But that is denied her. She is not allowed to surrender to the chaos of the universe and so absolve herself of agency. Everything she has done was done by Buffy Summers, human being in control of her own choices, and she has to confront and reckon with that fact. It is only once she accepts and owns the things that she has done and that have been done to her that she can move forward as an authentic person. Her metaphorical heart (Xander) and spirit (Willow) have demonstrated that simply saying who you are isn’t enough - you have to be who you are.