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cuubism · 5 months ago

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a lovely person on ao3 expressed interest in more of this retired Dream chronic pain fic and I said well who knows maybe one day and then proved myself a liar by doing it Now. when it gets in your head it stays there until it's out

One of Hob's greatest joys, as boyfriend and caretaker to one retired King of Dreams, is finding new things for Dream to enjoy. Things that Dream didn't have time for, or never got the chance to try, when he was fully occupied by his function. It's so fun seeing Dream's joy. Dream has never allowed himself very much of it.

Of all the things Hob's introduced him to, he hadn't figured Dream would be a video game fan. Always thought he was more one for slower media like books, or maybe he just hadn't been able to imagine his ancient, ponderous stranger gaming.

Hob was wrong. So very wrong that ever since he made the dubious decision to buy Dream an iPad he's been stuck in a perennial competition with Minecraft for Dream's attention, and Minecraft might be winning.

He really should have known better, should have guessed that the once-king of the Dreaming would love the immersive dreamscapes of video games, not to mention that he can create things again in a way that doesn't have the world-shaking consequences of his former role.

When Hob gets home from work, he's unsurprised to once again find Dream twisted up in a complicated pretzel shape in his favorite armchair, headphones on, nose buried in the iPad. Sitting that way isn't going to help his joints much in the long run, but nowadays Dream only ever seems to either sprawl or to crunch up in a tiny ball when he's sitting anywhere--sometimes Hob wonders if, after so many years of carrying every aspect of his life so primly and correctly, Dream simply can't bear to do it ever again.

He's also said that that twisted way of sitting is the only position that helps his hip ache less, so Hob doesn't complain about it too much.

"Hey, love," he calls as he sets his bag down, sitting on the couch beside Dream's armchair. Dream looks up at him, pulling his headphones off so they sit around his neck. Hob can vaguely hear the audio--Christ, on top of working on his crazily elaborate Minecraft world--Hob's seen it, the thing's insane--he's also listening to an audiobook. Yeah, Hob was so wrong about expecting Dream's way of trying to relax to be slow or measured.

Dream looks tired now, though, not relaxed, dark circles along his cheeks and a pinch of weariness at the corners of his eyes. Ah. Tough day, then.

"How's the Minecrafting going?" he asks instead of remarking on it. He probably sounds like an old person when he talks to Dream about it--well, he is an old person--but Hob's never been able to stick to any one thing for too long, and he hasn't actually picked up this game since the first time it came out. Who knows how it works nowadays.

Dream shows him the screen. Predictably, he tends to just play in his own little world instead of interacting with anyone else, and said world has become an elaborate landscape of infinite cityscapes, art pieces, and complex structures Hob can't determine the purpose or design of. If Hob's not wrong, it's significantly more complicated than it was just yesterday. Dream has picked this all up with disturbing ease and gotten very fast at it besides. You can take the dream lord out of the craft but not the craft out of the dream lord, apparently.

"You're getting quick at that," he says. "Pretty soon it will be bigger than London."

"Were it to be made physical in equal dimensions, it would be," Dream says. Maybe Hob should get him involved in city planning, might be entertaining for him.

He tries to imagine Dream at a council meeting and nearly perishes at the thought.

While Dream is still looking at him, Hob cups his jaw in one hand, runs his thumb over the dark circle under his eye. "Not feeling so well today?"

Dream sighs. "No. I did not sleep well."

Hob had noticed that, but he'd hoped the fact that Dream was still in bed when he'd left for work meant he might get some sleep later on. Apparently not.

"I am..." his lips twist. "My joints. Hurt."

"I'm sorry, love." Hob would fix it if he could. God he wishes he could. "Where?"

"Back. Primarily."

Really, Hob should be grateful for Minecraft, no matter that he's been in a pitched battle against it. It's one of the only things that can properly hold Dream's attention and distract him when he's not feeling well. Without his game to occupy him Dream just starts getting sad in addition to being in pain and Hob can hardly stand it.

"I love you, you know?" he says, and the corners of Dream's lips tip up.

"I know."

"You want to do some stretches with me?" Hob offers. "You can laugh at my lack of flexibility as much as you want."

He has, in fact, gotten Dream into some yoga and light strength training. It seems to help, at least a little. Dream's new human body is already very flexible, though. It's actually part of the problem. Maybe that's what happens when you try to put an amorphous conceptual being into a fixed body. Maybe it's just the roll of the dice.

"I would not laugh," Dream says, but sets the iPad aside and starts disentangling the knot of his limbs to climb out of the chair.

"No, but I can always see you thinking about it."

"I would not exchange flexibility for you being strong enough to pick me up," Dream declares.

"It's not a one-off trade," Hob says, laughing. Then, perhaps to prove a point, he scoops Dream up from the chair and into his arms.

Dream shrieks and clutches at him with all of his limbs. He's so good at tangling himself up like that that sometimes it still feels like he's able to manifest twice as many of them.

"Could try something else to flex those muscles too," he teases, and Dream gives him a judgmental look, but Hob can see the smile secretly tugging at his lips.

"Taking perverse advantage of my ailments?" he says.

Hob feigns offense. "I was just going to give you a back rub! Totally innocent."

"Mmmm." Dream tilts his head, studying him. "Perhaps if you are truly committed to doing all of the work. I'm not finding myself inclined towards effort this evening.”

"Taking perverse advantage of my generosity?" Hob echoes.

Dream smirks down at him from his perch in Hob’s arms. “Always.”

It’s fine by Hob. Dream deserves a bit of generosity, in his opinion. And a lot more than that, too.

“You’ve indeed been most generous with me in my indolence,” Dream purrs. “Cared for me in my infirmity. How ought a man repay such a magnanimous patron?”

“Could think of a few things,” Hob says, letting his gaze deliberately track down to Dream’s lips. “I’m more inclined to spoil you, though.”

“I am amenable to that,” Dream says. Haughty little thing. Even dying couldn’t take the king out of him.

Hob doesn’t mind, though. He’s always had a bit of a thing for it. So he obligingly carries his still-smirking lover off to their bedroom to spoil him just as he’s promised.

Afterwards, when Dream’s sprawled across him, one leg tossed over Hob’s hips in a way that apparently relieves the strain in his lower back, though Hob can’t imagine how, he says, “Does it bother you that I have become utterly idle?”

“You’re not idle,” Hob says. “You do plenty of stuff. I see you do it.”

“Not with true purpose, though,” Dream says.

“If you mean do I think you should get some sort of career, then no, I don’t.” Hob kind of shudders at the thought. “As far as I’m concerned, you never have to work again if you don't want to. Do what you want. Work on your Minecraft cities. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

“You work,” Dream points out.

“I get bored,” Hob says. “Besides, my job doesn’t involve literally being the job, you know. You have to make up for about a trillion years of no work-life balance.”

Dream just humphs, but settles closer against him.

“Does it make you uncomfortable that I pay for everything, is that it?” Hob asks. Dream has always been so fiercely independent.

“Uncomfortable, not exactly,” Dream says. “I find I still fail to grasp the importance of money.”

Hob chuckles. “Yeah, you would.”

“Rather,” Dream continues, “the issue is equity. Something I am contemplating more as part of human society.”

“Okay, I understand what you’re getting at.” Hob wouldn’t want their relationship to feel inequitable either, but it’s not so much about paying for things, but about Dream not feeling trapped. As much as part of Hob wants to bundle Dream up and never let him leave the flat again after he literally died once already, he doesn’t want Dream to stay because he has to. He wants him to stay because he chooses to. At the same time— “But, Dream, it’s been only six months.”

“And?”

“For your lifetime— hell, even for mine, it’s a vanishingly small amount of time. And you were so tired.” It still hurts, still feels almost panic-inducing to think about, how Dream had been the last time they’d spoken before he… died. Hob’s never seen such weariness on a person, and he’s seen a lot. It would take a long time for that to lift from a human, and Dream is operating on a much vaster scale. “If I can give you time to rest, then that’s what I want to do.”

Hob could never figure out how to help Dream when he was Endless. At least there’s something he can do to help Dream now.

“Rest,” Dream echoes. “You are insistent upon it.”

Hob buries his hand in his hair, scratches at his scalp. “It feels better, though, doesn’t it?”

It takes a long moment for Dream to concede his answer, but finally he says, quietly, “Yes.”

“I love you beyond measure,” Hob says, aching with the words. “I want you to be well. It’s no more complicated than that.”

“I think I am,” Dream says slowly. “Well.”

Hob thinks so, too—at least, more so than he once was. He has his issues with his body. But some of the heaviness on him has eased. And that’s a step.

“I do not think I have been well before,” Dream continues. “At least, not in quite some time.”

This, Hob knows, too.

“Then we’ll have to keep working at it until you’re used to it,” Hob says. “And I’ll spoil you until then. Well, after, too.”

“You seem to take pleasure in it,” Dream agrees.

Hob kisses the top of his head, rubs his hand up and down his back until Dream sinks into him further, boneless and lax. Maybe later he will give Dream an actually innocent back rub, it seems to help with the pain a bit. For now he just lets Dream fall asleep on top of him.

He needs the rest, anyway.

#an emotionally intelligent conversation? in my dreamling fic? it's more likely than you think #dreamling #my writing #ipad kid dream #putting minecraft in this is getting dangerously close to the mcyt fandom finding it and thinking it's about their dream 😂

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febuwhump · 3 months ago

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febuwhump 2024 survey results

has it been six months since febuwhump? yes. yes it has. nevertheless, here's the cold hard data (analysis) of the survey from febuwhump 2024: feb five.

firstly, this year was our most popular yet! with 1417 works in the official collection across 329 fandoms, we made (and shared) 103 fics more than 2023, and 770 more than my first year running febuwhump in 2021! this isnt even including all the art and fics posted to tumblr, or wasn't shared during the event, which would put our total so much higher!

the prompt list had 4000+ notes and i received 115 responses to the survey.

there were 62 people in the hall of fame, up from 51 in 2023.

the blog hit 2,683 followers, up from 1,946 at the end of the 2023 event.

across two independant check, based on the average word count of 2,000 words per fic in the 2024 collection, and aware of the multi-chapter fics (some of which were finished after the event), it is estimated that 2.8 million words were written for febuwhump 2024. which is just. fucking insane.

now, onto the survey results!

firstly: in what way did you participate in Febuwhump this year?

with extra write-ins not pictured, fanfiction was the overwhelming winner with 92 responses (82.6%), followed by original fiction (22.6%) and artwork (11.3%). interesting to me personally is the 4 responses who wrote poetry and the not-pictured 1 response who created web-weaving! which is very cool and i would like to see it.

fandoms

according to the survey:

the most popular fandoms written for were the star wars universe and legend of zelda universe (8/115 responses)

21 responses included original fiction

the majority of responses also referenced more than one fandom, meaning less people stuck to a single fandom or topic the entire time.

according to the collection:

21 anime/manga fandoms were represented

51 books/literature fandoms were represented, 12 being specific star wars subseries

24 RPF fandoms were represented, including bands and minecraft servers

the most popular fandoms written about in the collection were:

star wars (all media types) - 253 works

star wars: the bad batch - 80 works

torchwood - 66 works

original work - 56 works

my hero academia - 54 works

why and how

next, there were a lot of really lovely responses about why participants took part in febuwhump, a few favourite and repeated responses being that it seemed fun, they'd done it before and so wanted to do it again, and they liked to write about their favourite characters suffering. also, multiple people have been doing it for three of the four years i've been running it (of five total), and several were encouraged by friends!

the majority of participants discovered febuwhump through tumblr, the admin's tumblr, ao3 fics and discord servers. a handful said there's apparently a google doc floating around that houses a whump event calendar. i would be interested in seeing that if anyone's got it.

did you participate in Febuwhump 2020, 21, 22 or 23?

the majorty of respondants were new comers to febuwhump at 66.1% "no" to 33.9% "yes". the majority of comparisons to previous years referenced a noticably bigger community, more interaction on the blog, and the admin being more "confident" (oh, you guys), however several noted that the prompts felt more repetitive or samey this year than they did previously.

are you a Febuwhump completionist or participant?

a fairly even split, 51.3% of participants didn't finish compared to the 48.7% who did. however, only 88.1% of those completionists submitted to the hall of fame.

for those who didn't complete, the most common amount of prompts completed was 2 (13.6%), 3 (11.9%) and 12 or 6 (6.8%).

the most common place to share prompt fills was tumblr (74.8%), ao3 (72.2%), or choosing not to share at all (7%). several write-in responses said that they were planning to share in the future but hadn't yet. and while 76.4% of people submitted to the ao3 collection, those who didn't claimed it to be because the fics weren't ready to be shared on time, they weren't following the rules so didn't add to the collection, an inability to find the collection on ao3 (i swear i'm working on it) or shyness/fear.

what went well/even better if:

the only actual criticsm of the event received was that the blog was posting in a "spam"-like way, to the point that the participant almost unfollowed (and another suggested a reblog tag so it could be ignored easier if people didn't want to see the works throughout the month).

several comments asked for a later deadline for submission to the collection/hall of fame, which is going under advisement, but the current position is that by doing so, it makes the event a different event. there are no stakes to actually create once a day if, at the end of it, you actually get 2 weeks of extra time.

another couple mentioned there being too many dialogue prompts and vague prompts. this will be considered during the next voting period and prompt collation - potentially, if i allowed less dialogue prompts into the final 100 vote, less would make it through to the official 28, however the voting itself is out of my hands (unless voter fraud occurs once again).

the main suggestion for improvement (8 times out of 44 suggestions) was for an additional mod to help with reblogging more. (which imo flies in the face of the "spamming" from earlier, but there is surely a middle ground). this is likely to not happen, because i like running the event alone, despite the major burnout i receive every single year without fail. but thanks for your concern lol.

on discord:

31.3% of participants were in the discord server (which, this year, ignored the first year's 100 user cap and had 172 total users).

43.6% of people who didn't join the server did so because they hadn't heard of it, while the majority didn't join because they were either shy (the minorty) or don't use/like discord (the vast majority). i don't know if tumblr still does groupchats and if that would be a viable alternative, or if there is another forum/chat location that would work better (or to have in tandem), but i am open to suggestions.

of the people who were in the channel, most (33.3%) used it "rarely", followed by "most days" (25%) and "for half the month" (22.2%)

febuwhump 2025

the majority of responses wanted next year's colour scheme to either be red or green, but shout out to everyone who wanted orange, the person who said "children's hospital" and the other person who gave me this specific hex code: #4BEC13

which is vile, but also another vote for green.

finally, here are my favourite suggestions for febuwhump 2025's colloquial name. previously, we have endured febuwhump 2: electric boogaloo, febuwhump 3: tokyo drift, fourbuwhump and feb five.

febuwhump 6 suggestions:

fe6uwhump (which, i'll be honest, is a real contender)

"I don't know"

febuwhump 666

febuwhump: revenge of the sixth

"I don't know, sorry"

"febuwhump sex and make all the prompts kinky"

"??? i have been thinking about this for 10 mins"

febuwhump 6(9)

feBEEwhump

"i am bad at this"

"could not care less"

febuwhump feb five 2: electric boogaloo

apparently, i accidently made this a mandatory question and that made some of you mad :(

and that's the wrap up survey, six months late! any questions/queries/want to see some of that cold hard data? send me an ask. i'll actually respond to it i swear! (probably!)

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump2024 #survey #obsessed with everyone who was mean to me in this survey there were several of you lmao #legit send me asks about this i have THOUGHTS

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ghostlypainterslimeclod · 1 year ago

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Mike Schmidt x Male reader

1/2

Mike is such a little meow meow boy and as such I've declared him a bottom (my opinion means nothing) my first actual fic

Mild NSFW

It's late around 6 pm, your lazeing on your couch in nothing but your boxers and sweater, when you hear a knock on your door, reluctantly you get out of your comfortable spot in front of your TV to get it. Peaking through your peep hole you see your perpetually tired and pretty neighbor, Mike and suddenly you feel like maybe you should have made the extra stop to put on pants. But you're here now so you open the door, "Hello," you say nervously hiding half way behind your door hoping he doesn't notice the Minecraft boxers wrapped around your waist " what brings you over?" He looks anxious now that you've opened the door a little drop of sweat forming on his brow , "um I'm sorry to intrude and all but um..." He shifted nervously from foot to foot then said "Can you watch my little sister I have to go to work and my usual sitter is M.I.A." You think for a second then ask "What do I get out of it?" You knew he was struggling so you didn't expect money you just wanted to make the brown eyed boy squirm. "Anything." He half sighed "Anything?" You repeat questioningly "Anything" he said looking at you with his big brown eyes, how could anyone say no to him with eyes like that you thought before stating "ok I'm holding you to that."

You quickly go back inside and put on a pair of sweatpants and shut down your house before following him across the street to his place it was a carbon copy of your house just a few things were different. He leads you inside where he tells you what your responsibilities and such are like his sister's name is Abby and she spends most her time drawing and that she already ate dinner so u just gotta make sure the house doesn't burn down while he's gone, well that's what you got between checking him out and his anxious chatter. Then after that little speech he says bye to his sister to her protest as she doesn't want to be separated from her big brother, then once he separates from her he says a polite "bye" and heads out the door. Which leaves you alone with a kid you only met once before when you first moved in. Honestly you had no idea why he trusted you to watch his sister but you got to know the pretty neighbor boy better so that's a plus.

You slowly make your way to Abby's room knocking lightly, "hey can I come in?" You ask and the door is opened by the small girl. "So you're who's watching me now?" She asked unimpressed. You just nod, man kids are rude then what she said next gave you a bit of a shock, " I don't get why he talks about you so much, anyway do you like drawing," you chuckle lightly "of course, I love drawing." So you drew with the kid until she fell asleep at her desk. She is a cute kid you thought to yourself as you tucked her into bed. You then went and sat on his couch and fell asleep watching his TV.

You feel the couch dip as someone sits on it waking you, you look over to see mike then look at the clock its 10 am and you groggily say "sorry for falling asleep for so long." He looked over and apparently he didn't notice you woke up. "Sorry for waking you." He said in a whispered voice, God his voice is really nice. " So I've been thinking about what you can do to pay me." You say slyly. "Yeah," he said curiously "what?" You smirk " I'd except payment with a kiss." He instantly flushed and looked away a little bit of sweat beginning to form. You quickly say "it was just an idea you don't have to." You beginning to believe you read him wrong only for him to say "no it's ok," he turned to look at you "I was just caught off guard." He then grabbed your face giving you a small peck. Your hands going to rest on his hips as you kiss him, this one lasting longer. The kisses got more heated with each one before he pulled back, a little gasp coming from between his chapped lips. "Oh god." He groaned quietly, you gently pulled him onto your lap giving he plenty of time to pull away if he wished. His hands now rest on your shoulders, as you slowly kiss his neck his stubble scratching your face. He let out little whimpers and whines his hands going to pull on your hair. Then he jolted a little and began peeling himself away from your grasp. "hmmm..?" U look up at his questioningly "um I think um maybe we should stop, I'm really tired, and I gotta take care of Abby when she gets back." He looked nervous. it was cute his face was flushed, a tent in his worn blue jeans, and his brown eyes almost totally eclipsed by his pupils. Thought he did look like he was about to fall asleep on his feet "yeah you should get some rest." You stood up a tent in your pants as well. "Can u watch Abby again tonight?" he asked nervously "she seems to really like you." You smirk at him "you don't have to pretend you don't just want to see me again, and of course I'll come back if that's my payment." You give him one more kiss he whines into and then you go back to your place the house seems so empty compared to his. The warm lights seeming cold and the rooms look bare, but that's how it always is.

#michael afton #fnaf movie #michael x reader #michael schmidt #michael schmidt smut #michael schmidt x reader #little meow meow #mike schmidt x male reader

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mysoncookie · 6 months ago

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BNHA Dabi-Centric fic recs

Artificial Parenthood, Affectionate Brotherhood by cereal_whore

Teen & Up, Gen, No Archive Warnings

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 208,780

Has an On Going Series Called "Dabi says fuck the human species: artificial natural selection addition"

Summary: 22-year-old dabi switches place with ten-year-old touya todoroki in their timeline Bakugou, a single child with the social skills of an apathetic gamer, runs into a cellular mass of anxiety that vibrates the same murderous rage of a chihuahua. Said kid is as problematic as Bakugou himself, is a ginger, does not fear the laws of this land, and doesn't even seem to be from this land- or more accurately, time. Between Bakugou's homicidal urges, Todoroki Shouto's lack of filter, and God's middle finger, lies the Pandora's Box of the Todoroki's household secrets, in the form of a child named Touya Todoroki, who hates fish and has never heard of Minecraft. Todoroki Shouto just wants joint custody over his own older brother who's now inexplicably ten-years-old. So clearly, the only effective solution would be to force Bakugou to adopt him and all his other siblings. Meanwhile, Dabi, still in a world that never wanted him, learns that maybe an old dog can't learn new tricks (a truth he realises, when he finds himself reunited with a nine-year-old Shigaraki, who might not be past saving, the way he will be a decade later).

Lay Me on a Pyre (Sacrifice me for your sins) by RadioSilencer

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 29,126

Summary: “Ah, and I hate to do this to you, but there’s a couple questions we have to ask since you’re awake now. Is that all right?” Wondering why his input was needed for that, Touya nodded. Anything they wanted. Whatever he could do to be less of an embarrassment. “Okay then, tell me if you need a moment whenever,” the woman started, “your name.” “Todoroki.” Even if he wished it wasn’t (and everyone else probably did too). “Todoroki Touya.” (A bystander loses control, and Todoroki Touya opens his eyes to a brighter world than he left behind.)

By Any Other Name by SatelliteBlue

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 258,617

Has an On Going series called "Will you accept this rose?"

Summary: Through some freak accident of the universe, Dabi has been invited to compete on The Bachelorette. Have they actually seen his face? Surprisingly yes, and they still want him. For this season they apparently need a ‘bad boy’ to both balance out the hero contestant (why in hell is Hawks involved?) and to trash talk the show in interviews to appeal to audiences who don’t like the scripting. Getting sent on a vacation away from his annoying bandmates to complain and eat as much free food as he wants? Sold.

The Difference Between an Heir and a Son by ofHeartmateAndSoulbeats

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warning Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 11,774

Summary: ...because if Enji had ever loved any of his children, it would have been Touya

Brother by Dreamy_Cel_100

Teen & Up, M/M, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 79,561

Summary: Todoroki Touya has never known comfort. He just didn’t realize he wasn’t the only one. Or When Touya runs away, he decides to take his kid brother. And instead of joining villainy he attempts to create the home he never had.

Sins of the Father by kanekki

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 32,411

Has a Complete Series called "the hellish todoroki family"

Summary: Shouto’s lower lip wobbles as he cries. “M-Momma hurt me and Father sent her away. I m-miss you Touya, please come home. It’s scary without you.”

“Alright,” Dabi says soothingly while he glares at the heroes, “We’re going to my place then. Your nii-san’s going to protect you now, okay?”

Shouto is accidentally rewound by Eri’s quirk in the middle of a villain attack, reverting him to a small child with no memories of his future. Dabi takes the opportunity to bring Shouto with him to the League of Villains headquarters to remove him from Endeavor’s clutches.

little brother, we are all grieving by jurassicqueer (kukurosaki)

Mature, Gen, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 29,561

Summary: When a teenager is dragged into a police station by someone with a self-proclaimed de-aging quirk, it seems too improbable that one of the most notorious villains in Japan could actually be reverted to a scrawny sixteen year old.

But then the blood tests come back, and the quirk labs hand in their results, and it seems that Dabi really is a teenager again- and claiming to be the dead Todoroki Touya, of all things.

OR: Touya never expected to wake up a wanted fugitive, but with his luck, he's hardly surprised.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

as per requested from my previous post I updated my fic recs on dabi and ofc I added the bachelorette au that y'all been talking about tnx to @attackontreason for recommending it ksksks

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crystillyzed · 1 year ago

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at the rainbow's end // mysta rias

pairing: mysta rias x gn!reader

word count: 4.1k

genre: fluff, staff!reader, mutual pining, wingman elira

content warning(s): swearing, unedited

summary:

After nearly a year of hearing each other's voice, you finally meet him.

a/n: this was originally going to be released as my 100 follower celebration since i hit that a while back and to make up for the lack of event since i don’t have the time to host one. but with mysta’s graduation this past weekend, i didn’t want to keep this in my drafts since i’ve been working on this for like practically a year now.

this fox-dog man means so much to me, even though i can’t really catch his streams due to timezone differences, but he means So Much to me. i got back into writing because of luxiem, but he and shu were the ones who got me back into the swing of writing which is amazing bc i love writing. i just lost all the motivation to do so until i found them last year. even though he’s no longer in niji anymore or mysta anymore, i will keep writing for him. in fact, i actually have like 3 or so mysta works in the drafts lol

and speaking of writing, this is the first long fic i’ve written in 3-4 years. i’m considering crossposting this onto my ao3 as an alternative access to read longer fics bc ik how tumblr is poopy with loading long text posts. i’m a bit rusty when it comes to writing long fics, but i hope you’ll be able to enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this 🧡

links: luxiem m.l || main m.l || ao3 ver (if tumblr dies)

You twist your head from your phone back towards your monitor, displaying the Discord window showing your current private call with your blue dragon friend.

“Mysta’s WHAT?”

“Yeah, he’s coming along on the trip,” Elira laughed. “You didn’t know?”

“Apparent-ly! What the hell!! Luca, that motherfucker, I’m gonna beat his ass when I see him!”

She howls with laughter as you ramble on and on about how Luca told you everything about their planned trip but didn’t tell you about Mysta’s planned involvement. Once you’re done, she takes many deep breaths to calm down. “You should come with us! It’s gonna be fun. And, you’ll get to see him again.~”

You can’t really see each other’s faces, considering you’re both in a voice call. But god damn, you can hear the eyebrow wiggle in her teasing tone.

“I can’t,” you groaned, “I have finals when you’re there. As much as I wanna skip it, I really need to pass.”

“Damn, you can’t even get a referral from staff to get you here for a business meeting? Unlucky.”

“Can’t even do that anyway. I already told my professor that my trip’s been canceled, so now I have to take it.”

Though you’re not a liver for the company, you are, however, a staff member for the company. Specifically one of the staff in charge of promotions. Of course, you mainly focus on promoting EN and sometimes the other two now-merged branches. In fact, that’s how you got close to some of the livers.

As one of the staff promoters, you have to speak with the associated livers about PR stream offers and their convention appearance invites. Since you’ve been interacting with the livers the most, you’ve become friends with a few of them. Some namely Elira and Mysta.

Honestly, it’s not that you play favorites with the livers. You try your best to keep your relationships professional with them. But your bond with a specific fox-like man says otherwise.

You see, Mysta has been a joy to be around with. Although you haven’t met him in person yet, you have played some multiplayer games with him. Sometimes you check out the EN Minecraft server to see if the installed mods are working properly. Weirdly enough, almost every time you visit the server, Mysta is online. In fact, that’s how your not-so-business relationship started.

When you first entered the server, after double checking if no one was streaming at the scheduled hour, he was the first person you met. You thought you would run into Selen, Pomu, or perhaps Uki during your visit, but you were pleasantly surprised at his sudden appearance. Luckily, he was kind enough to show you around the server while teaching you some mods. With, of course, the trademark Mysta Rias experience packaged with sexual innuendos and teasing about. Well, except he didn’t go completely sexual considering it was your first time meeting him. He has some decency.

After that, you’ve run into him almost every time you visit the Minecraft server. Every visit eventually turned into hangouts, just you two (and sometimes another liver) chatting and building projects in-game. Soon enough, you and Mysta started to play other games together. You both played games such as Overwatch, Clubhouse, and sometimes League if you felt like torturing yourself for some reason.

Obviously, you had to keep the professionalism on both sides somehow. Your fellow staff members, especially some livers, noticed your close bond with the detective. So they usually send you to his DMs to discuss about any promotion offers involving him. Whenever you have your cameras on for a meeting, he somehow always flusters you with sudden flirtatious marks or something of the sort mid-conversation.

“Hello? Helloooooooo? Is someone there??”

Elira’s voice yoinks you out of your thoughts. Oh god, were you spacing out this entire time? How embarassing.

You clear your throat then respond as if you weren’t thinking of someone just now, “S-sorry, did you say something?”

“Oh my god. It’s that bad,” she mindlessly mutters.

Blink blink. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” she quickly retaliates. With a slight hum, she speaks again, “Since you’re gonna be stuck in hell… Want me to get you something? Like a souvenir or a limited edition thing? I literally have your address, man.”

Oh right, she does. Sometimes you and Elira send gifts to each other like figurines or plushies at random times.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for the offer, man.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’ll still probably send some pics buuut… Y’know… Just saying…”

There she goes again, doing that thing where she wiggles her eyebrows even though you can’t see her fucking face right now. Goddamn it, why did you tell her about your… thing with Mysta? You should’ve known that she’s NOT going to let it go.

You groan, “Just. Just surprise me.”

“That’s so vague! Do you know what that means?”

“Yeah? So? Surprise me.”

“Man… You have no idea how much power you just gave me.” She cackles for the next few seconds, making you start regretting your decision. “Okay, I’ll surprise you. Just don’t forget you asked me to, alright? And no complaining!”

“Okay, alright, fine! I won’t complain! Jeez… Now get to bed, nerd, you have a flight tomorrow.”

“Sheesh, what are you, my mom?” You both chuckle at her remark. “Okieee~ I’ll go pass out now, I guess. Good night!”

“Good night, Ewiwa. Have a safe trip.”

And you both leave call. Well, maybe you should get to sleep too. It’s getting super late, after all.

—

Mysta stares at Elira across the table in disbelief. “Finals? Of all times? Bruh…”

“Haha, yeah! Super uncool and lame and not something I have to worry about soon,” his penguin colleague beside him laughs with a dreadfully crazed look in her eyes. She anxiously reaches out for her soda and starts drinking rapidly.

“Wh— it’s not like I can control it or anything. Shit happens!”

“I know, it’s just…” he drawls off as his gaze lowers to the table. Admittedly, it’s difficult for him to hide his expression. So naturally, the two girls noticed his disappointment. Elira and Petra awkwardly look at each other, then to him, then back at each other.

“Hey, it’s okay, Mysta,” Petra says as she pats his back. “You can always see them next time! Like Nijifest!”

The dragon nods, “Yeah! Or you could see them the next time you take a break. Like going on another vacation or something.”

“If I have enough money for it,” he sighed. But he gives them a small smile to appreciate their attempts to soothe him.

Petra frowns. “If? Mysta, you’re literally one of the top livers in EN, like? Hello? Mr. One Million?”

“But I still don’t know when that’s gonna happen. Might as well be in a year or maybe like half a year or something.”

Elira’s eyes narrow. She quietly listens to their conversation, or bickering at this point, while taking some occasional sips of her drink.

For the past practically a year, Elira’s been one of the victims to both of your hopeless gushing.

She already knew about your friendship since you’ve talked a lot about it before. She knows the stupid hijinks and drunken confessions that you and Mysta told her about off stream. Her eyes closes as a confused thought crosses her mind, Seriously, how are you two not dating already?

Of course, she’s quite aware that the rest of Luxiem are both of your victims. Hell, when Elira’s alone with the other boys, it’s usually them talking about how astonishing that you and Mysta aren’t together. Sometimes, they make bets on who’s going to confess first. It’s obvious!

Even with the two going back and forth, practically becoming one with the background, she closes her eyes and hums in thought. Finals should be finished next week, she mused. Her visible eye opens as she takes a glance at the ashy haired male. But he’s been so busy lately that they haven’t spoken with each other…

The entire EN branch had a full schedule for the past few months. In fact, their schedule was so full that sometimes the livers couldn’t make their own streaming schedules nor stream in general. Mysta, of course, was no exception. As one of the most popular livers in EN, he’s one of the most busiest people she’s ever known. On top of that, you too have been busy recently too. You haven’t been able to hang out with him as of late despite being a staff member yourself. Life really likes to fuck anyone over, doesn’t it?

She could tell that you two haven’t been able to find the time to talk with each other. The staff picked up many projects that practically almost everyone is unavailable, and you were one of said unavailable members. The only times the livers could contact you was through Slack or by email for business inquiries. But things should be slightly slowing down, for now that is.

Although, it would be nice to have you two meet each other once at the same time, even if it’s a coincidental encounter.

Wait a minute…

A devious smirk lifts her lips, her eyes glinting with mischief in mind. She chuckles to herself as she entertains the thought. Hell, it even looks kinda creepy to the other patrons. ESPECIALLY to her coworkers who’s now staring at her with confusion and a hint of fear.

“…Elira? Are you okay?” Petra asked the dragon.

“Hm?” She blinks out of her thoughts as the penguin’s voice pulls her back into reality. Elira stares at her and Mysta, who also looks a bit dumbfounded, before grinning at them. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Just thought of something.”

Blink blink. “Like what?” Mysta asked this time.

Again, she lets out a chuckle and flicks her wrist to wave off the concern. “Like I said! Don’t worry about it! Y’all will see it eventually.”

Soon enough, the waitress arrives with their orders. Elira turns to face her and helps her with the food. On the other side of the table, the two livers tilt their heads in confusion and eventually give each other an unknowing look as the table is served.

—

You lie in bed snuggled underneath your covers, but the lights are still on as you scroll through Twitter on your phone.

It’s been about a couple weeks since your call with Elira. She’s been sending you updates, videos, and pictures of the group’s adventures in Japan. Sometimes, she’d call you before going to bed to tell you what happened during the trip in case it was a story she couldn’t explain over text. Of course, there were times when another liver like Reimu and Nina would join in the call and give you the tea. As much as you wished you wanted to be there while dying in exams, you felt warm as you saw the livers enjoying themselves on their vacation.

Then, you noticed how fast the month flew by. Eventually, it was time for the livers to fly home and say goodbye for a while. They all had different flights, obviously, but there was a specific person who didn’t leave the country yet.

You were looking on Twitter while watching the members’ story time streams on a pop-up viewer. Although, you didn’t see Mysta’s waiting room or tweet indicating his return to streaming yet.

Suddenly, you remembered why.

“He wants to stay back for a bit,” Elira answered over the sound of her packing. “Dunno why, but I don’t blame him. He was in Japan for work last time.”

That he was. Though disappointing it is that you can’t hang with him for a while longer, at least he’s having fun.

“Oh, remember the thing I asked you about?”

She asked you something? When?

“What thing?” You asked.

“Uh… The souvenir thing?”

Oh shit, you forgot about that. And apparently, she noticed your forgetfulness as indicated by her laughter.

“I got you something,” Elira continued, “but I’ll send it to you when I get back.”

“Why not now? You can just ask headquarters to send it to me.”

“It’s not something in a box though.”

You blinked in confusion, unanswering.

On the other end of the line, you heard her chuckle, “You’ll see.”

Your brief conversation did, in fact, make you scared. Although it’s Elira, your local dependable dragon, sometimes she can be as unpredictable as… well… the rest of Nijisanji. Not just EN, but Nijisanji in general. Remember that one time you watched her stream where she suddenly jumped into a hole in that Forest collab? Yeah…

Now, some time has passed since the trip and she’s been home for about almost a week. It’s something not in a box, right? So what’s taking her so long? Is it digital? Or did she fuck up somewhere with the delivery?

Currently, you’ve been juggling schoolwork, personal work, and work-work. Needless to say, it’s been a stressful time, especially around this type of year. Seriously, why is everyone so goddamn busy around this time? Idle thoughts aside, you’ve also been anxiously waiting for Elira’s souvenir. For the past week, you’d constantly check your phone and your PC for any email or DM from Slack and Discord with Elira’s name attached to it. Every time you get DM’ed or emailed, it’s always been another liver or staff member whose name doesn’t start with Elira and end with Pendora.

But hey, at least you got funny memes from Luca and Mysta in the mean time!

Honestly, at this point, you might as well just give up. Maybe she did run into issues, or she just forgot.

You let out a sigh as you refreshed your feed for the umpteenth time tonight, accompanied by the ghost’s voice eminating through your speakers. Yet suddenly, a notification banner from Discord slides down onto the screen.

Elira Pendora

SURPRISE!!!!

Oh.

Huh.

So she didn’t forget??

Confused yet astonished at the same time, you pull down your notifications bar and tap on the DM to see what she sent.

As the iconic Discord logo pops up on your screen, it eventually loads your conversation with Elira. When you look past your previous chat, a message larger than it should be fills about a third of your screen.

A plane ticket to London next week. Seat number and all. And most notably, it has your name.

…

“HUH?”

You frantically tap on the textbox and type.

You

GIRL

WHAGT THE FUCK IS THIS

Elira Pendora

your souvenir! ☺️

You

WDYM SOUVENIR THATS NOT EVEN RELATED TO JAPAN??? 😭😭😭😭

also

HOW DID YUO GET MY NUMBER??? AND MY EMAIL????? :monkas:

Elira Pendora

I had to pull a few strings with staff

just normal coworker things

You

:thonk:

“normal”

Elira Pendora

but like you should go!!!

I didn’t go through all that just for you to not see him

and you really needed a break so 😎

You

??????

but hes Still in japan?????

Elira Pendora

yeah but he’s flying back home next week

I asked him earlier and had to like try to figure out how to get you to meet him at the same time

or like

around the same time 😌

You

man idk if i should thank you or yell at you

Elira Pendora

LMAO EITHER WORKS IT’S OKAY MAN

better get ready!!!

You

wait what about the hotel

Elira Pendora

what hotel? ☺️

i’m sure he wouldn’t mind letting you stay for a few days tbh

and yes I will also pay for your return trip

You

BUT YOUR LEN FUNDS……

Elira Pendora

I KNOW 😭😭😭

but it’s worth it! go get your man bitch!!

but :thonk:

I think I’ll try to pass out now since I have something scheduled tomorrow soooo

GOOD NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!

You

gn ewiwa :D

Well! Looks like you have a trip to prepare for.

—

The gray haired detective lounged comfortably in the AirBnB’s living room, resting on the sofa as he scrolled through Twitter. He let out a chuckle here and there, sometimes full on laughing whenever a funny meme popped up on his timeline.

“Meesta!” Elira called out to him from the kitchen island.

He turned around to look at the unusually giddy dragon. Confused, he asked, “What’s up?”

“When are you heading back?”

“Uh…” Pulling out his phone, he quickly went through his gallery to find a screenshot of his ticket. Once he found it, he examined the ticket for its boarding time and date then put it away. “In like a couple or so weeks. I thought I told you?”

“I don’t think you did,” she answered.

She motioned him to give her the device, or at least show her the screen. Of course, he complied. Though insane she is, he does have immense respect for her and Lazulight. Mysta stood up from his seat and approached her. Once in the kitchen area, he flipped his phone towards her, letting her singular visible eye take a peek.

Elira hummed as she inspected the ticket details then pulled back. “Cool. Thanks man!”

She walked away from the kitchen, carrying a glass of water upstairs leaving him even more confused.

It’s been three weeks since his unusual encounter with Elira. He sits idly at a bench by a luggage conveyor in the airport, waiting for his bags to unload from the plane. While waiting, he leans back into his seat and lets out an exhausted sigh. Luckily, no one is seated beside him, so he could just take up all the space on this uncomfortable bench. Still, he couldn’t help but reminisce onto their conversation.

Was she planning something? Was she just curious? What was she cooking?

Now, he’s back in the dreaded land of England, land of the beloathed. He pulls out his phone and immediately checks Discord. The EN server is lively as always, everyone’s practically home but the sense of energy radiates from the screen despite being digital. Like any other liver, he hops in the conversation a bit, sometimes memeing around with the others in the general channel.

Although, he noticed that your icon hasn’t appeared at least once since he landed. He was even paying attention to the top left corner of his screen for a red dot indicating your message. Normally, you’d send him a meme or something to see while he’s asleep or busy. But strangely enough, you haven’t yet. Maybe he should send you something? Or maybe call?

Mysta continues to catch up and reflect on the livers’ vacation in Japan on the server, his attention eventually caught by a familiar bag on the conveyor.

Welp. Looks like he’ll call you later.

—

Thank god Elira had the brain cells to make sure your flight isn’t after his own. Of course, she had to take in account about the flight times since you’re both literally across the globe from each other going to London. To avoid missing him right after landing, you were booked super early into the morning. But sometimes, there’s a possibility that you might be too early when he lands. And, unfortunately, that seems to be the case.

“He lands around midnight,” Elira told you on phone prior to checking in. “So you should be a biiiit early.”

Yeah, by like, 2 hours.

Man, what the hell are you supposed to do for two whole hours? Well, at least you have your phone AND your luggage. You could even people watch in the lobby. But that’s 2 hours!

What’s even more fucked up is that you can’t really use your phone unless you find the wifi. But airport wifi is kinda shitty, especially in England of all places. Talk about a British debuff.

You let out a heavy sigh and collapse into your seat. Napping is out of the question, even though you’re still kind of tired from the flight. Don’t wanna risk missing him by a smidgen, of course. So you ended up roaming around the airport for a while, getting yourself some drinks and snacks to keep you occupied while waiting for your friend. Luckily there were plenty of places to lounge while waiting, so you found a place to sit and enjoy your haul of snacks while waiting.

You did get to connect to the public wifi to look at some memes, but again, it’s the airport wifi. With how slow your phone’s been loading, you eventually disconnect yourself from the wifi after moments of mindless scrolling.

But then you realized something.

You have absolutely no idea what gate he’s in.

Panicked, you scramble to pick up your bags from your side and stand up. Shit, did Elira tell you what airline he took? God, having data in another country would be so helpful. There’s absolutely no way you’re gonna reconnect to the public wifi, it’s too damn slow! If you did have data, you’d look back to your DMs and scrub through your brief conversation from last night.

With a quick glance at your phone, the clock flashes briefly on the screen. 9:20pm, that means his flight’s arriving in less than an hour. Oh shit.

Immediately, you pace briskly throughout the terminals. As you scrounge through the crowds just to take a good look at the terminals, you ask staff for international flights from Japan along the way to help narrow down as much as possible. Throughout the search, you occasionally checked the clock on your phone. 9:40? Shit, his flight should be here now or soon.

“Mysta!” You suddenly shout, passerbys looking at you strangely as you start calling for his name. Your luggage rolls and bumps against the crevices of the floor, bags jostling as you promptly continue your search throughout the terminals. “Mysta Rias!”

Meanwhile, in the same area…

An ashy gray haired man stands in front of the carousel, waiting for the rest of his bags to drop onto the conveyor belt. He pulls out his phone from his pocket, taking a quick glance at his notifications and Discord. His mouth lowers into a frown, his brows furrowing in worry as he notices the lack of notifications from you. Did they really fall asleep?

Clink-clang!

Sunset kissed eyes shift towards the carousel at the sound. Spotting his luggage on the conveyor belt, he walks over to his revolving baggage and lifts them onto the ground. Maybe he’ll shoot you a dm later when he gets home. The handle on his large case clicks as he pulls it up, soon dragging it on its wheels behind him as he heads towards the direction of the exit.

You continue running and searching for him, frantically calling his name throughout the terminal. Your head turns left and right as you look into the surrounding late night crowd, your gaze briefly analyzing each arrival for any hint of his gray hair or his tallness. As you remain standing in the middle of the hall, looking for him, you see a tall man wearing small shades on the bridge of his nose. Gray side hairs framing his face sway into the air as he lugs his bags from the baggage claim and towards the nearest exit.

Without a second thought, your feet starts moving towards him. “Mysta—“ you call. “Mysta!”

After seconds and minutes of searching for him, calling his name and pushing through the crowd as you chase after him. Just a little more…!

“MYSTA!”

And finally… Finally, you see him.

With a clear shout of his name, the gray haired man halts.

Bewildered, he looks left and right until he turns around to see you panting. His heart stopped as he stares at you astonishly. The ambience of the crowd and muffled intercom speakers drowned out as he zoned onto you.

He looked at you.

The person standing just centimeters away from him.

The person who he thought was someone he’d never meet face to face ever.

The person who helped him find a reason to keep going even in the darkest of times.

It felt like hours just staring at each other. It didn’t even feel like there was an ocean of people swarming about and passing by. Without a second thought, Mysta slowly approaches you as if he were to scare you off. As if he didn’t want to wake up, if he is dreaming.

As he gets closer and closer, you didn’t make a move. No, you merely stared at him with wonder and excitement im your eyes.

You both stood across each other, only a few centimeters apart. He blinks several times, even pinching his wrists to disprove his thoughts. But he felt a stinging pain on each part.

An airy huff somewhat resembling a laugh escapes from him. Relief washes over him, and he whispers with a smile, “…Hi.”

You smile back.

“Hi.”

#nijisanji #nijisanji en #nijien #luxiem #nijisanji x reader #luxiem x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #luxiem x you #luxiem imagines #nijisanji en x reader #— a simple dream // writing

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suzukiblu · 11 months ago

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

Cassie makes a claybaby

we are so pleased with this Match

Amazon Kon

Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this

the one where Kon's soulmark is fake

snippet from “Cassie makes a claybaby”:

“This is a disaster,” Cassie says, making a face at the mess of wet, sloppy clay on the table in front of her.

“You added too much water,” Kon tells her, not looking up from his own much less messy lump. “You need more clay.”

“How do you even know that?” Cassie asks, eyeing him suspiciously. Them all taking this stupid ceramics class together was Bart’s idea–he’s currently at the table in front of them, busy excitedly arguing with Cissie about why they should make matching bookends–and the teacher was extremely fucking unclear on how much water was “too much”.

“Mae and Linda used to sculpt,” Kon says with a shrug, using one of the weird wire-topped tools the teacher left out for them to literally peel a few chunks out of his clay. Cassie has never been so baffled by a method of making art. “They showed me a couple of tricks back in the day.”

“Who?” Cassie asks in bewilderment. Kon’s mouth tightens for a moment in a familiar “someone you apparently forgot” kind of way, and then he just shrugs and peels some more of his clay off.

“Never mind,” he says. Cassie feels–unsettled, briefly, like she does every time this happens. Every time Kon mentions someone who apparently existed before and doesn’t exist now, or at least not in any way that any of them have noticed or recognized. Things that unhappened are bad enough, but people . . .

It makes her think of him, cut off from all of them, and wonder how many other people that might’ve happened to. Was Kon the only one? Are “Mae” and “Linda” out there somewhere too, lost and missing them?

Should she be missing them?

“I don’t think we’re artistic enough for this,” Tim says from the table behind them. He and Greta seem to have pooled their clay into one weird blocky, amorphous monstrosity. Cassie isn’t gonna ask, mostly because he’d started muttering about Clayface when the whole idea for this class had come up to begin with. Anita comes over with a fresh block of clay and smacks it on top of the other two’s. It looks like the Minecraft idea of a snowman.

Cassie suspects that perhaps they’re not all taking this class as seriously as they could be and that the only reason the teacher hasn’t thrown them out is because she’s currently distracted with, like, twelve other people. Still, it’s only one day, and they just signed up for it as a fun little hangout thing to go do together, so whatever, it’s not like it matters.

“What are you making, Kon?” Greta asks curiously. “It looks nice.”

“Angel,” Kon replies matter-of-factly without looking up from his clay-fiddling, and doesn’t elaborate past that despite the fact Cassie cannot imagine a less religious friend she has, including the declared atheists. Kon’s sculpting does look nice, though, especially compared to everyone else’s. Bart’s clay is all squished into Escher-esque nightmares and Cissie hasn’t even touched her block, and again, Tim and Greta and Anita appear to have just made a Minecraft snowman. But given how seriously Kon seems to be taking this (given that Cassie’s never heard of a “Mae” or a “Linda” in her LIFE), Cassie figures she should at least try, and goes to get some more clay to add to her mess.

She doesn’t even know what she’s gonna make, honestly.

Fuck it, maybe she’ll pull a Hippolyta and just make herself a kid. That’d be kind of funny. And also be better than just biting Kon’s idea, probably. Like, show more engagement or whatever.

#meme #wip wednesday #omegaverse #wip: cassie makes a claybaby #long post

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yellow-computer-mouse · 6 months ago

Text

Some older UTMV fics I haven't posted!

under cut!!

Contrary to popular belief, Nightmare did have friends. He had several healthy friendships with well-known skeletons like Blue, Ink, and Vio. He liked to go out and do things such as get dinner with his friends. He liked to hear what his friends had to say, and they liked listening to him as well.

Most of the time, that is.

It wasn’t like they didn’t like him or his opinions, no matter how much it seemed that way. Nightmare just wasn’t very good at talking to people. This was made incredibly apparent when he decided to meet up at Ccino’s cafe with Thistle, Geno, and Lavender. They were all seated and chatting aimlessly when the Minecraft server that they shared came up.

“I’m not on that,” Geno said, looking up from his drink.

“Oh, we could add you,” Lavender offered. Thistle mumbled his confirmation as he ripped a sugar packet open with his teeth. Nightmare had been quiet as the others spoke, preferring to listen to them converse instead of jump in and embarrass himself, until he remembered something Killer had told him.

“Speaking of Minecraft,” he began, but the others didn’t seem to hear him. “Guys.” They continued their conversation without him, still not acknowledging his attempts. He began to grow frustrated as their voices grew louder. He cleared his throat in a futile attempt to get their attention. Still nothing. Nightmare clenched his teeth, wishing he was at home. Listening to them talk over him angered him further, and in a fit of rage, he slammed his fist down on the table as hard as he could.

None of them noticed.

Why didn’t they notice him?

Nightmare felt his face shift into a hurt expression, eyes turning downward. He shifted in his chair, bringing his knees up to his chest. His tentacles hung limply over the backrest as he buried his face into his lap, trying not to cry. This was stupid. His friends were stupid. He peeked out of the corner of his eye to the other three. They were still talking like nothing happened, not even bothering to glance over to him. They were treating him like he wasn’t there.

What the fuck?

Nightmare hopped out of his chair, grabbing his bag. “I’m going home,” he mumbled, fighting to keep tears out of his voice. He didn’t cry, he couldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry.

“Wait, what? Why?” Lavender asked, looking at him with worry in their eyes.

“No reason.” They looked like they were going to say something else, but Nightmare was quick to cut them off. “Fuck off, I’m tired.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. He was tired- tired of being invisible. Tired of being ignored. Tired of hoping that his friends would literally just acknowledge his very existence because really, was that too much to ask? To be recognized as a fucking person?

He carelessly ripped open a portal to his base, practically throwing himself through and crashing face-first into the couch. Cross, sitting next to him, jumped slightly.

“Hi, boss,” he said nervously. Nightmare stuck up his open hand, tilted it slightly, and dropped his arm back to his side, sighing heavily. “How’d it go?”

“Hrmmng,” Nightmare groaned, rolling over to his back and slumping to the floor. “Not good.”

“How not good?” Horror asked, cocking his head. Nightmare opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. He glanced behind him, looking Cross up and down. The monochrome skeleton blinked purposefully, which Nightmare took as an invitation to continue.

“Well, it was annoying. They mostly were just talking about things they’ve all done together, which somehow devolved into talking about the server- Killer knows what I’m talking about. I tried to tell them something, but nobody listened to me- or even recognized my existence- so…” Nightmare trailed off, hearing himself starting to whine the way you do before you cry. Cross gave a hum of displeasure and Horror furrowed his brow. Nightmare took a breath, continuing shakily. “So- I don’t know. This happens a lot, so I guess I should expect it by now, but it’s still really sad because I just want to talk about things I like and-” He cut off sharply, pressing his palms against his eyelids and biting his tongue. He wouldn’t cry. He would not. Cry.

Cross lightly touched his shoulder and Nightmare crumpled forward, sobbing into his knees.“I-I-I j-just want to- to be heard,” he blubbered shakily. Cross slid onto the floor next to him, offering a hug tentatively. Nightmare leaned into it, shoulders shaking. Horror looked around awkwardly before getting up and leaving the room. After some time, Nightmare managed to calm down and Cross released him. He quickly retreated to his room so he could get pissed at his friends in peace. Unfortunately, Horror followed him, awkwardly trying to make him feel better by showing him things Killer had sent him. Nightmare would never admit it, but it kind of worked. For the first time in a long time- longer than he could remember, actually- he felt seen. He felt heard. He was listened to, and sometimes, that’s all he needed.

Nightmare sat atop the stump of the Tree of Feelings. He was having some feelings, himself. He didn’t want this. Looking around, he took in the dusty, deserted landscape. He felt a kind of disconnect between doing this and, well, doing this. He knew he did, but he couldn’t remember anything about it. There was a blackout lasting almost immediately after he ate the apple until he found himself in a MafiaTail, scared and alone. He had asked the Sans of the AU for directions and had instead “earned” a much more… personal prize. He was only seven.

He didn’t like to think about that.

After he made his way to a different AU (an OuterTale! How fun), he met Error for the first time when he was about ten. Error was tearing apart the universe. He had asked what the god was doing, and Error replied, “None of your business.”

He heard a staticky kind of ripping sound and almost laughed at how well-timed it was. Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

And oh, appear he did. The blinding white light of the Antivoid poured into the (now) eternally night AU, appearing as though Error was glowing.

“Long time, no see, Error,” Nightmare said smoothly, as though he hadn’t just been on the verge of tears recounting memories from a time meant to be pure and fun. He was glad Error had arrived. He didn’t want to be alone as much as he said he did.

“G00d m0rn1ng t0 y0u t00,” Error said, smirking and snapping the portal closed instantly. “W45n’t 3xp3ct1ng t0 533 y0u 1n 4 d43d un1v3r53.”

“Wait, dead?” Nightmare said, startled. “I- you’ve gotta be kidding me. This AU has been around for hundreds, no, thousands of years. You’re joking. You’re joking! I- oh- you are not saying what I think you are, no way. This- you can’t be-”

“%t0p y0ur p4th3t1c r4mbl1ng. Th3 4U’5 c0mpl3t3ly gl1tch3d 0ut. L00k 4t th3 fuck1ng 5ky, N1ghtm4r3.” The corrupted skeleton did as he was told. “Wh4t d0 y0u 533?”

“It’s nighttime,” he said, hating how young he sounded. Sounding young is why he was here in the first place. After thinking for a second, he added, “So…?”

“%0?! Th4t’5 th3 wh0l3 d4y-n1ght cycl3, f0r 0n3 th1ng. F0r 4n0th3r, n0n3 0f th3 1nh4b1t4nt5 4r3 5t1ll h3r3-”

“I’m still here. Dream is too, sometimes.”

“-N0t n34rly 0ft3n 3n0ugh t0 54v3 1t. G0dd4mn1t, N1ghtm4r3, why d0 y0u th1nk y0u 4nd y0ur br0th3r 4r3 c0n51d3r3d 0utc0d35?”

He opened his mouth indignantly, only to shut it again. Why was he an outcode if his AU is fine? “Don’t talk about the day-night cycle. You didn’t grow up here.” He came very close to sticking his tongue out at the god but decided against it. It would have been asking for it unprofessional, after all.

“W45 1t 4lw4y5 n1ghtt1m3 wh3n y0u w3r3 4 k1d? B3c4u53 1’v3 45k3d Dr34m, 4nd h3 54y5 n0.”

“W-well,” Nightmare began. “No. No, it was day sometimes. But! That doesn’t mean the AU’s dead, Error.” He scoffed. “Classic Error, always jumping to conclusions-”

“L45t t1m3 ! c4m3 h3r3 th3 v1ll4g3r5 w3r3 b4ck.”

“Last time you came here the what I’m sorry?” Nightmare asked with wide eyes.

“Th3 v1ll4g3r5. Th3y w3r3 b4ck.”

“Back? Like, as in not dead?” Error gave him a deadpan expression.

“Y35, 45 1N N0T D34D, Y0U FUCK1NG 1D10T!” Nightmare was silent, staring at the ground. He bit his tongue, then his lip, then his cheek, then his lip again, just for kicks.

He didn’t like being yelled at.

“For real?” he asked, feeling smaller than he ever had before. (Well, maybe not ever.) He hated feeling small. He knew what people did to things that were small.

“W0uld ! l13 t0 y0u?” Error asked. The god’s voice had softened, probably realizing how much this fucking dead tree and rubble meant to Nightmare. He shook his head slightly. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. Crying means you’re not happy. Being not happy is bad. That means they have to make you happy.

“L00k, !’d t3ll y0u t0 s4y y0ur g00dby35, but 1t l00k5 l1k3 y0u 4r3.” Error paused for a moment when Nightmare didn’t react. A million thoughts were going through his head at once, and he wanted them to stop.

“! w45 g01ng t0 t3ll y0u b3f0r3 ! t0r3 1t d0wn 4nyw4y5,” the god said dismissively. Still nothing. Nightmare could barely process any of the thoughts that he was having. Error was all he could understand, and he was clinging to the sad truths the god was speaking. “D0 y0u w4nt m3 t0 w4lk y0u thr0ugh wh4t th15 m34n5?” He felt himself nod slightly. The whole conversation didn’t feel real, and Error’s presence always looking painted-on didn’t help. He felt himself begin to space out, but he was quickly snapped back by Error’s multicolored fingers.

“C’m0n, 5t4y w1th m3 h3r3.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Try r3p34t1ng wh4t ! s4y. 0r 1f y0u h4v3 4 d1ff3r3nt m3th0d, g0 f0r 1t. ! d0n’t kn0w h0w d1550c14t10n w0rk5.” Nightmare whispered what the god had just said back to himself. The act of speaking stopped his brain for a moment. He still felt small, unbelievably small, but respected. It was just like when he was taught by Mr. Gilbert don’t think about Mr. Gilbert don’t think about Mr. Gilbert don’t think about him don’t don’t don’t you little whore don’t.

“)k4y, 50 th3 v1ll4g3r5 c0m1ng b4ck- n0t 4ll th3 t1m3, m1nd y0u, ju5t 0nc3 0r tw1c3- m34n5 th4t th3 un1v3r53 15 try1ng t0 3553nt14lly r353t 1t53lf. But 1t’5 n0t 4 r353t, Dr34mt4l35 4r3n’t c4p4bl3 0f th4t. W3ll, 3xc3pt f0r R353tm4r3, but th4t’5 4 wh0l3 0th3r th1ng 1n 4nd 0f 1t53lf.” Error paused. “Fuck. !’m r4mbl1ng. B451c4lly, th3 un1v3r53 w4nt5 t0 run thr0ugh 1t5 5t0ry, but 1t 4lr34dy d1d. H0w3v3r, th3 un1v3r53 d035n’t kn0w th4t b3c4u53 1t’5 c0mpl3t3ly 3mpty.”

“Then why’s the sky broken?” Nightmare asked. He was finally, finally, beginning to get it.

“!- )h. G00d qu35t10n. ! 4ctu4lly d0n’t kn0w. %0m3th1ng mu5t h4v3 c0rrupt3d 1t.”

“Was it me?”

“N0, ! d0n’t th1nk 50. !’m, l1k3, pr3tty 5ur3 th4t’5 p4rt 0f th3 5t0ry.” Error stopped talking for a minute. “$ny qu35t10n5?”

“No- no, I don’t think so.”

“G00d. N0w, ! d0 n33d y0u t0 g3t 0ut 50 ! c4n t34r 1t d0wn-”

“NO!” The two skeletons were quiet for a while.

“Wh4t?” Error asked, the god’s flat tone promising a dark end. Nightmare stood stock-still, paralyzed in fear. He needed to apologize although that never stopped them before.

“I-I mean, uh, d-does Dream know? You said you’d tell me, w- I-I- tha- w-what about Dream?”

“H3 d1dn’t t3ll y0u?” Error, who had previously been facing the remnants of the village turned to face Nightmare. The god’s normal scowl had been replaced with an incredulous look.

“What do you mean he didn’t tell me?” Nightmare asked slowly, not wanting to process what that meant.

“N1ghtm4r3. Y0u 53r10u5ly d1dn’t kn0w?” The god’s voice was soft, tone gentle in a way Nightmare needed liked. His silence was apparently all Error needed to hear. “! told Dr43m t0 t3ll y0u. Y0u w3r3 5upp053d t0 c0nt4ct m3 45 500n 45 y0u c0uld 50 w3 c0uld t4lk 4b0ut 1t. D1d- d1d h3 n0t t3ll y0u?” The genuine concern in Error’s voice was enough to break him. Nightmare fought to keep the tears in his eyes and not streaming down his face, tainting the ground. Tainted. That’s what he was. He couldn’t cry, not in front of Error. He had to be strong if he wanted to be a boy. Look at how easily he broke, he couldn’t be a boy. Boys didn’t break, boys were strong. He had to be strong.

Error was very close to him. Nightmare stepped back in shock. The destroyer was standing right in front of him, only a foot or two away.

“$r3 y0u 0k4y?” Nightmare couldn’t bring himself to move. “H3y, 1 r34lly n33d y0u 0ut 0f h3r3, m4n. !’v3 b33n try1ng t0 b3 ch1ll, but- uh- 1t’5 g0nn4 c0ll4p53. ! d0n’t kn0w h0w 500n, but ! d0n’t w4nn4 fuck 4r0und 4nd f1nd 0ut, y’kn0w?”

He couldn’t move. He was trying. It was like the signal was being interrupted. He was stuck standing stiffy, staring at the dirt underneath his feet.

“Y0u g00d? L1k3, f0r r34l th15 t1m3.” Nightmare tried his absolute hardest to choke out a no yes, but he couldn’t. He tried. Those tears he had been holding in fell, and he couldn’t even wipe them away.

“L00k. ! d0n’t kn0w 1f y0u c4n m0v3 r1ght n0w, 50 h3r3’5 wh4t’5 g0nn4 h4pp3n. !’m g0nn4 5tr1ng y0u up 4nd h0ld y0u 1n th3 $nt1v01d unt1l !’m d0n3 h3r3. Th3n, !’m g0nna dr0p y0u 0ff b4ck 4t y0ur c45tl3. Th3n, !’m g0nn4 have 4 t4lk w1th Dr34m. Ju5t 4 fr13ndly ch4t-”

“He wants what’s best for me,” Nightmare blurted out. The words were fast and jumbled together and were way too hard to understand.

“W4nt1ng wh4t’5 b35t f0r y0u d035n’t m34n h1d1ng 1mp0rt4nt 5h1t fr0m y0u, N1ght.” The god was quiet for a moment. “D1d h3 t3ll y0u th4t?” Nightmare fought to respond.

“A little.” Error sighed, giving the guardian an expression of pity.

“)k4y. C4n y0u m0v3 n0w?” “Dunno,” he said, voice growing more snippy and strained. “Can’t even talk, so…”

“Y0u’r5 pr0b4bly ju5t g01ng n0n-v3rb4l. !’m g0nn4 put y0u 1n the $nt1v01d n0w, g0t 1t? $ctu4lly, f1r5t !’m g01ng t0 bl1ndf0ld y0u. !’ll 4dm1t 1t, th053 l1ght5 4r3 r34lly 0v3r5t1mul4t1ng.” Nightmare barely nodded as Error carefully slipped a blindfold over his eyes, making sure their bones didn’t touch. “)h, 0n3 l45t th1ng. #bb 54y5 ! 5h0uld w4rn y0u, th3 fl00r 15 h0t. N0t h0t 3n0ugh t0 burn y0u, but h0t.” With that, Nightmare was tossed through a portal into the destroyer’s place of residence. He sat on the floor, trying to process what had just happened. His mind felt cloudy and dull. He didn’t know how long he was in there until Error came back through the portal.

“W3ll, 1t’5 g0n3.”

“Gone,” Nightmare whispered to himself. He felt mostly empty, maybe a little bittersweet. Any real emotion was buried deep inside him as a form of protection. He had learned young, being upset only made things worse. He could feel Error give him a funny look.

“Y34h. )G Dr34mt4l3 15 n0 m0r3.”

“All gone,” he said. He didn’t know why. That was childish and unnecessary. He didn’t have control over his actions.

“!- wh4t? !- 0k4y. Wh4t3v3r. Y35. $ll g0n3. By3 by3 Dr34mt4l3.” Nightmare rocked back and forth where he sat, waiting for Error to send him back to his castle. He was tired and he needed to be alone to process this. Actually, scratch that. He just needed to be alone. “$lr1ghty. W3lp, 1t’5 b33n fun, but 1t’5 t1m3 f0r y0u t0 g0 h0m3. Y0u’r3 g0nn4 turn 1nt0 4 nutj0b 1f y0u 5t4y h3r3. ! m34n, l00k 4t #bb. Y1k35.”

“Yikes.” Error laughed slightly.

“Y34h. W3ll, 0ff y0u g0!” Nightmare felt the atmosphere change, growing much colder yet much more welcoming. Taking off his blindfold, he saw Error had dropped him off in his kitchen.

“Oh, hey boss! You’re back.” Nightmare gave a nod. “Why were you hanging with Error?” Nightmare tried to say, “None of your business.” Emphasis on tried. He instead whined, walking away from Killer and heading for his room.

“Alright, don’t wanna talk to me. Damn.” Nightmare gave him a noise of confirmation, completely missing the hurt in the other’s voice. He just wanted to be alone. He thought everything went- well, not well, but better than expected for his AU being destroyed. Okay. He thought everything went okay until he got in his room, closed the door, got into bed, and broke down sobbing. Really turned on the waterworks. The weirdest part? He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he was upset, because everything went so well. Everything was fine, so why was he crying? The thing that broke him out of it was a small knock on his door. It was timid, like the person knocking was asking permission to ask permission. Cross. He took a deep breath and suddenly he was calm again.

“Come in,” he said quietly. Said like he wasn’t just sobbing into a pillow.

“Uh, are you busy? Because if you are, it’s fine. I-I just was thinking- well- uh, we’re all hanging out in my room and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“I’d love to, Cross, truly. I just really need to be alone right now. Maybe later.” Nightmare felt oddly standoffish and he didn’t know why. He hoped that didn’t leak into his tone. They never liked his tone.

“Oh, alright,” he said, nodding. The ex-soldier slipped back out of the room, careful to shut the door behind him. As soon as Nightmare heard the door close again, he felt better. He felt safe. He felt like he was going to cry until he made himself sick. And so he did. He moved to his bathroom (his blankets were too warm, too fabric-y. Too much. Fuck, he could barely handle wearing a shirt the little perv) and he cried uncontrollably. He screamed and sobbed, letting his guilt and sorrow rip him away. He let any shred of okay-ness be absolutely destroyed and then let the remnants be torn apart. He sat on the cold tile floor and cried until he was sick and then he did it again. And again. After what felt like hours (thirty minutes), he was at least 62% sure that he was okay. Maybe. If you squint. He wiped his eyes, splashed some water on his face, rinsed his mouth out, and went to join the others.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, nerd,” said the soulless skeleton, wielding his paintbrush menacingly. Acidic red paint dripped from the end. Ink pinned him against a wall, removing all forms of defense he may have. Nightmare stared down at him with wide eyes. His whole team stopped to watch with bated breath. This had happened before, and it didn’t go well. A glance to the right revealed that Dream was watching, too, with fear in his eyes.

“Do it, boss. Go apeshit,” Killer muttered, the slightest smirk creeping onto his face as they all waited for carnage.

Nightmare didn’t move as his eyelight shrunk to a pinprick. He stayed there, letting Ink pin him against the wall and whisper things into his ear as he further trapped the dark skeleton. Blue managed to get up, despite his many injuries, and pull Ink back, telling him something nobody else could hear. Nightmare still didn’t move, aside from violent tremors causing him to visibly shake, even from Dust’s distance. He stayed, back pressed against the wall, no doubt ripping into his delicate tentacles. He eventually crumpled forward to the ground, presumably tearing up his knees as well. He let himself go limp, folding in half on the sharp cement. His tentacles were acting oddly too, staying stock-still in the position they had been in against the wall.

“Boss…?” Horror murmured. Dust glanced over and saw genuine concern in his blown-out eyelight. They were about to say something when an audible gasp came from where their leader lay, drawing the attention of everyone on the battlefield. Horror looked like he was about to say something else when a loud, gut-wrenching sob burst forth from the fallen skeleton.

“Boss!!” he called, starting to run towards him. Dust put an arm out, stopping him silently. Nightmare continued crying on the ground, convulsing as experiences and traumas none of them could understand flowed out of him as tears, his tentacles thrashing about wildly. They all stayed like that- frozen- for several minutes, until Horror eventually shoved Dust aside, running over to him. He dropped down to his knees as he ran, wrapping his arms around their boss.

Not his boss. Their boss.

What was Dust doing?

They followed Horror, Killer running behind them. At a closer proximity, they could hear words mixed in with his sobs. Horror spoke softly as he ran a hand along Nightmare’s back, pulling him closer and rocking him slightly. Nightmare sputtered apologies that slowly devolved into gasps of fear and pain, and he was back to weeping into Horror’s jacket. His voice got progressively higher-pitched as he spouted his regrets until he broke once again, words regressing into shrieks and sobs. His fingers dug into Horror’s back, trying to get closer. Dust heard the Stars tear open a portal, leaving the “Bad Sanses” alone in the AU. Dust seemed to be the only one who noticed, Horror still attempting to comfort Nightmare and Killer watching it all go down with an unreadable expression. Dust waited another moment before joining the other two on the ground, wrapping their arms around the corrupted skeleton. Killer also entered their little freakish huddle at some point, as Dust felt a third body in the pile.

“It’s alright,” Horror said. Dust thought they heard a quiet “No,” come from their boss. “You’re alright.” Nightmare shook his head, wailing louder.

“No, no, it’s not, no!” Nightmare shrieked, pulling Horror into an increasingly tight grip and continuing to sob into his jacket. Everything became more surreal as Dust watched, listened, and felt their boss’s pain. Nightmare was the guardian, no, king of negativity and evil. He had killed so many people. He had destroyed his AU. He had imprisoned his brother in stone for 500 years. He had ended the lives of everyone he had ever known, including his own mother, but Dust was having a hard time seeing him as anything other than scared. Scared and lost. It made them rethink his title. It made them rethink all of their titles. Why were they considered “bad?” Yes, they were all criminals, but for good reasons. They looked at Nightmare again. They knew what he had done, the atrocities he had committed. They knew why he was called, well, Nightmare. But he was so much more than that. Dust knew what happened after he ate the apple, he had told them. He blacked out. The corruption completely took over and killed everyone, left the universe, and then killed anyone it saw. Nightmare came to in a MafiaTale, still as old as he was when the incident happened- seven years old. He was seventeen when he found Dust and recruited them to join him. Currently, he was twenty-one. Barely even old enough to drink. Although, liquor consumption laws had never stopped “The Bad Sanses.” Alcoholic drug addicts, every one of them.

The skeleton breaking down in front of them was not a bad person.

He was not a bad person.

Nightmare was a living being with thoughts and feelings. Fuck, people not realizing that is why he became Nightmare in the first place. Dust could see him change and adapt to his surroundings. When they were all in the castle, he became more light-hearted. He made jokes. He laughed. He lived. When they were out and about or on a mission, all that went away. He became cold, calculating. What he was expected to be, not who he was.

Nightmare took a deep, shaky breath, pushed away from Horror, and gave a small smile. “Thank you. I-” He paused. “I think I needed that.” He laughed quietly, his tiny grin growing ever so slightly.

“No problem,” Horror said. Nightmare opened a portal.

“Shall we?” he said, as though nothing had happened. Except… not quite like nothing had happened. Something had very much so happened and he was aware of that. It was like his shell was cracking. Dust was glad. They liked seeing him be himself. Not the king of negativity. Not a monster in every sense of the word. No, they liked Nightmare, their boss. Nightmare, their friend.

Just… Nightmare. That’s all.

yipeee

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