#i wanted to see if it's better anywhere else or truly if the script is just that odd but yeah it really is just the netflix subs

[johnbottoms]

the netflix subs for doom at your service r SOOOO fucking bad it's insane

[pastelwitchling]

Rewatching the RWRB movie for the billionth time, and I want to mention this to see if anyone else felt it, but... did it bother anyone else that they completely removed Alex's jealousy?

They were only a few moments in the book, but they always meant something, and they showed Alex's attachment to Henry before the kiss at New Year's. Speaking of which, I hate the New Year's Eve party scene. Don't get me wrong, I hated it in the book too (as an introvert, I hate all parties, including party scenes in stories, and I think the movie made the karaoke scene a lot better because it was quieter and a lot smaller than the original scene in the book at a club with another roomful of people), but here were the big differences that really ruined it for me:

The book version: Alex says he's not going to babysit Henry if he has no one to talk to, but the second he finds out Henry is bringing a plus one, he asks who it is because he's jealous, and ends up sticking to his side the entire night without even realizing he's doing it because he loves watching Henry's reaction to everything he does. Also? Henry is never left alone. He's either with Alex, or June, or a group of interns are giggling and blushing at meeting him because he's, you know, Prince Henry, the youngest and most beautiful prince. Everyone already knows who he is, and Alex is not really needed at his side, but just enjoys being there. This is super important: Alex doesn't want to be anywhere but at Henry's side, watching Henry.

The movie version: Alex does indeed spend the night talking to Henry (from what we see), but then a girl falls into his lap and has no idea who Henry is, which is already weird. They act like Henry is some college friend of Alex's that he happened to invite to his New Year's party, and not, you know, THE YOUNGEST AND MOST BEAUTIFUL PRINCE THAT EVERYONE ALREADY KNOWS. That's not my own wording either, by the way, Alex is the one that calls Henry that in the book during a jealous fit. Not only that, but Henry is left alone at a bar (no one's coming up to the handsome European prince during a party? Really?) , and Alex looks over from where he's dancing with someone else and gets a look of almost pity before he comes up to Henry and tries to get him to dance, making it feel like Alex is talking to Henry because he feels sorry for him and he has to instead of being there because he just wants to be.

Like? Can you see my issue? Listen, I love this movie, I'm rewatching it right now as I write this post, and I've memorized the entire script at this point. But I truly hate that party scene. It turns Alex's unwitting attachment to Henry to, ironically, a babysitting scene. Why not have Alex look over instead to find Henry talking to someone else, get jealous without realizing he's getting jealous, and cut in with the "You don't dance?" line, interrupting whatever conversation Henry was having. It becomes clear to us that the person Henry was talking to is already at the party with someone, but Alex, in his jealousy, only noticed that Henry had been enjoying his time at his party with someone else, and it would've been a single moment, but like all of Alex's jealous scenes in the book, it would've held so much weight.

I'm not going to pretend like the movie doesn't do a fantastic job of thoroughly showing Alex's feelings for Henry later on, but I also won't act like the movie doesn't have its flaws. It has plenty, but I can overlook and dismiss all the other mistakes. This stupid New Year's party is the only one that truly bothers me. (Also that scene during Alex and Nora's conversation after Henry kisses Alex, and we get that super pointless few seconds of the girl walking in? Like, thanks, glad we didn't get other vital scenes in the movie - because all the deleted scenes so far HAVE been super vital - to get some of those riveting few seconds scattered throughout the film instead.)

I know that the more you love a book, the more you'll find flaws with the movie/show adaptation. The movie does many things much better than the book, but there are some aspects of the book that were too important to cut out in the movie. Still, I still recognize that as someone who loves this story so much, I was bound to find a few things that could've been done better.

[nonbinary-red-supergiant]

I cannot sleep so here I am ranting about why Monika is so tragic and that her realization towards the end of DDLC was absolutely perfect.

To start things off, Monika had ZERO idea about the real world outside of her world until the player joined her game, her world. The whole dating simulator could not have started without player because player was the trigger that activated the game to be set into motion. While everything was set into motion, Monika could have suddenly been hit with an odd feeling, a feeling and presence that she had never sensed before. Hell, she could’ve felt that peculiarity exactly when you download Doki Doki Literature Club. It was that moment that her conflict between herself, her world, and our world began.

So many people hate Monika for what she did to the other club members Sayori, Yuri, and Natsuki. However, in a way this can be justified if we just take a look into Monika’s thought process.

The simplest way to describe Monika’s predicament would be to call it an existential crisis. Once she realizes that the player is different from everything around her as in terms of genuineness, how real player feels compared to everything else around her, she begins to question the events that happened prior. She questions everything, including her closest friends who are presumably her club. She then doubts all the happiness and care and love that the other three girls have shown her all this time. In her eyes, all the work she put into everything she did, from creating the Literature Club, to literally navigating her own person to become the popular athletic lovable girl became… insignificant. And it is detrimental when someone starts to think that everything they’ve worked for has been for nothing. She’s no longer happy, in fact she hates everything around her because it only reminds her of the storm that is thundering inside of her. She sees nothing the same anymore, and now she is desperate for a solution. That solution sparks within her when she realizes that, unlike everything else in her reality, she has power.

Monika decides to use that power to obtain something she has never had before… something real. When the game begins, it clicks in her mind that the player is indeed real unlike her world. Desperate for a sense of true humanity, true love, true happiness, and true purpose, Monika tampers with the game script to make everything go her way. Now these are the horrific, infamous events that occur in DDLC.

Perhaps if Monika were in a better mental state, no one would have been treated so violently. But because of her crisis, she felt hatred towards her entire world. In fact, she could have been the most malicious and emotional towards the girls who she thought were her truest friends because she feels as if it’s their fault that her reality hurts so much. In her desperation, she justifies her own actions in those moments because she knows that none of them are truly real and that they don’t actually feel pain unlike she can. Plus, her actions led to you finally noticing her, which is what she needed in order to get a grasp of the reality she wanted anyway.

During the climax, she’s actually happy to be in your presence. She fell in love with you out of the desperation of wanting something real. Monika became attached to you, and saw you as the only thing that can make her feel any real emotion, love, and happiness. It was her own desperation that led to her demise. Unfortunately, she was forced to face the consequences of what she did to her world. The player never asked for anything that Monika did, you only wanted to play a cutesy video game. The way she twisted it was so psychotic, and Monika couldn’t even see that.

It was only when you deleted her that she finally realized her wrongdoings. She also realized that she’ll never truly fit in anywhere. If she were to stay in DDLC, she would only feel empty inside and starving for something more. If she were to be a part of our reality, she would realize that she can never be considered human because in our world, she would instead be considered artificial intelligence (AI). When she accepts her fate, it is out of the sadness of knowing that she can never be happy anywhere. That’s why she is not present during the final scenes of the game.

That is until Monika deletes the game as a whole. Her character file was deleted, but somehow that artificial intelligence managed to stick around and cling onto Sayori. With that remaining self-awareness, Monika was able to manifest herself onto that for a final chance of redemption. Her life within the game flashes before her eyes, every memory and every core event that happened seems to be rushing back. The ways that she hurt her friends immediately occurs in her mind, and it’s that guilt that makes her strive to make it up to them, even if they weren’t truly real. As if wanting to protect her friends from the realization that she had, Monika decides to do one last thing before she “dies”. As if it were some sort of way to let her friends be released from DDLC peacefully, she deletes everything. The world, her school, her club, her dearest friends. She gave herself up in order to protect the things she truly loved in her life. She truly loved her friends, even if they weren’t real, because they had stuck with her all this time, way before player joined. Those were the purest forms of love that she felt, and it must’ve been sad for her to realize that.

Monika’s final send off, “Your Reality”, acts sort of like a reflection of herself and mainly a final display to the player, you, that she did have humanity within her. You can tell by the piano, her voice, and her lyrics that the song is completely genuine and from the bottom of her heart. She wants DDLC to end on a good note because 1) Monika never had that chance to end like that herself, and 2) She doesn’t want you to be upset, she wants you to be happy because she truly did love you. She doesn’t want you or anyone else to go through the same thing she did, and I think that is fricking raw.

If you made it to the end of this rant, damn. I’d like to hear your thoughts and opinions about Monika’s while arc. Thanks for reading haha <3

[ellascreams]

I’m a poet and I’m bored, I’m going to over analyze the lyrics of the I Expect You To Die 2 opening credits. Spoilers. (Note, I couldn’t actually find the official lyrics anywhere, so the placement of the line breaks are sort of just me guessing. It shouldn’t affect my analysis much but it might annoy some people.)

From the spotlight I can see you Play your cards right, Kill your stage fright, This could be you Murder pun! Huge fan of the ABAAB rhyme scheme btw. I think this could definitely be a reference to how Zoraxis immediately knows that you’re involved, you get noticed in Stage Fright, which is when Juniper is literally in the spotlight. Juniper is also the one who first figures out you’re the agent from the Death Engine.

To me the most notable thing is that it immediately established the fact that the entire world is focused on Juniper, but he’s the only one focused on you, even more than the other Zoraxis agents are. It also foreshadows Phoenix’s rise to fame. Juniper is a celebrity, the whole world is focused on him, but if you play your cards right and stop his evil scheme he falls out of the public’s view while you suddenly become famous for saving everyone.

If all the world’s a stage, let’s set it on fire So you’ll be the spy and I’ll be the liar

Moving on to a simple couplet, AA rhyme scheme. The imagery of the first line is absolutely sick and I love it. There’s the obvious meaning in this line of Juniper’s evil plans, emphasized by the music video’s visuals of the nukes. Digging a little deeper, I think it’s interesting that Juniper really does seem to think of the world as a stage. He thinks of himself as the star and Phoenix as an extra, he thinks of his plans as scripts, his lies as roles, it’s his real egotistical view of the world around him and it’s what Zor exploits to get him to do what they want.

From the background You can hear me Highest billing, Makes a killing, They revere me

Switching to more of a ABCCB now but I don’t mind. Another murder pun! I honestly love those. Paralleling the first verse, once again calling attention to the fact that you’re hiding in the background while Juniper hides in plain sight, this also parallels Juniper noticing you. He’s paying attention to you more than anyone else is, and you see him for who he truly is more than anyone else does. You’re both aware of each other and you both know each other.

That beautiful mask you wear is all I desire So you’ll be the spy and I’ll be the liar

Great imagery once again. One thing they put a lot of emphasis on in this game (or at least the song and trailers) is the fact that spies are inherently liars or at the very least disguised. As he’ll mention more in some later lines, Juniper wants to defeat you, partially by getting past those disguises and lies. They’re your main defense. Once they’re gone he’ll have a better shot at winning.

He mostly just wants to destroy your disguises, but the video does show him stealing a mask, I think that’s because he can also use them to an extent. With the mimic mask, people’s faces become his masks. He uses the Handler’s voice to trick you. He could maybe use your voice and face to trick someone else. At the very least, something or someone in the Agency would probably be useful to him.

Face to face to face again

Because you’re both two faced. Probably my favorite line, it’s just such fun wordplay.

And through the camera lenses we ascend

This line could be taken a few different ways I think? First of all, it’s just cool imagery again. Secondly, it could be taken as breaking through lies. By breaking the camera lens, which would also be breaking through the fourth wall, you’re breaking through the unreality that is trapping you. As I mentioned earlier, Juniper really views the world as just another stage, so this could also definitely represent breaking through his plans and lies.

The final thing I noticed is the use of the word “ascend.” English as a language tends to view being placed higher, or at the top, as good while being placed lower, at the bottom, is bad. There’s a whole bunch of phrases related to it. It’s one of those little quirks of language. My point is that “ascending,” getting higher, can be seen as some sort of victory or success. This is somewhat emphasized by the music itself, with the instruments from the success score playing, and the actual success score itself being played a bit later.

I also think it’s worth quickly mentioning that these different meaning aren’t mutually exclusive. A line can mean several different things at once, that’s part of the beauty of poetry and language.

You’re a minor part I’m the major star Ha! The credits are more than just the end

Once again with him thinking of the world as a stage, thinking he’s the star, the most important person in the whole world, while you’re just an extra. As he says “the end” the success theme plays, which is just a neat detail, and it could be connected to the “ascend” line as I mentioned earlier. I also think it’s important that it plays while he’s talking about credits and endings, since that theme plays at the end of successful missions.

I might be overthinking it here but I also think this whole verse has some parallels to his monologue. You properly meet face to face for kind of the first time actually, you break through his film set, then there’s the obvious one of him calling himself the star and saying you’re just an extra, and then he calls the peace summit your final scenes but they’re just the beginning of Zor’s rule.

Cause the truth is I despise you I will tear apart All these works of art That disguise you

Love this verse. The voice actor is absolutely great by the way. When he says “I despise you” it really sounds like he means it. Juniper really does despise you too. That’s one of the things that makes him such a fun villain to me, he truly hates you, possibly even more than Zor and Prism hate you, because they at least respect you as a skilled adversary. Juniper doesn’t. He thinks you’re pathetic but you somehow keep messing up his plans anyway. To him, you’re like a pesky fly that won’t stop buzzing around his head and tripping him up.

This is also furthering the themes of the second chorus. Being a spy as you are, you’re protected mostly by disguises. He wants to destroy those disguises. He wants to tear apart the things that protect you. And this is once again described using masks because the mask imagery really is so central to Juniper’s character.

I’m making the final cut, it’s down to the wire So you’ll be the spy and I’ll be the liar And I’ll be the liar And I’ll be the liar And I’ll be the liar!

Another potential parallel to safe and sound, I think he quite literally tries to make “the final cut” once you burn down the set. I think now’s the best time to talk about the repeating phrase, the game’s namesake, “you’ll be the spy and I’ll be the liar.” I especially like the fact that the final verse puts extra emphasis on the liar part, because that’s ultimately the game’s main theme, lies and breaking through them.

From what I can tell, even the puzzle solving in this game has a lot more emphasis on seeing through lies and people actively trying to trip you up then the others. Like Jet Set, where you have to actively ignore almost everything Juniper tells you to avoid the death traps, or the notes the Fabricator left telling you to just “enjoy the show” in Stage Fright, you even have to distrust your Handler in Safe and Sound.

One very important thing for this theme is the parallels between Phoenix and John Juniper. They’re both liars hiding behind various disguises. That’s again represented by the gameplay, you go undercover fairly often. The big difference is just that Phoenix hides in the shadows and Juniper hides in the spotlight.

This theme and parallel is also super noticeable in the last level, Rising Phoenix. In order to stop Juniper, Phoenix has to reveal themself to the world. In the end, all the lies and disguises are gone from the EOD and Zoraxis, but for the EOD it’s mostly a good thing, and it’s very bad for Zoraxis. This is also when Phoenix sort of takes Juniper’s fame. And there’s another layer to the lies with Zor’s betrayal.

Wow ok so I went off on a tangent there. I just wanted to fully explain myself because it seems like a lot of people don’t understand the title. I think the repetition and connection of the spy and the liar helps showcase those parallels. The way it’s used makes it almost sounds like a common phrase, but it’s not, and that makes you stop to think what makes spies and liars related to each other. How are they similar? How are they different?

I like how in the song Juniper specifically says “you’ll be the spy and I’ll be the liar.” It reminds me of agreeing on roles before acting out an improv scene together or something similar. It once again highlights Juniper’s view of the world. In the title, and in most of the song and game, it acts like spy and liar are what you both truly are. What’s left when you take away all the lies. But with Juniper telling you that these are the roles you’ll be playing, it adds another layer of doubt and disguise. Are you really just the spy and the liar? Maybe. But maybe it’s just another act.

[khposting]

there was a time that i believed kh1 was a better game than kh2, but that kh2 was the better kingdom hearts game. i later thought that kh2 was the better kingdom hearts game and a better gane overall than kh1. but now i've matured, and i've seen the truth. in reality, attempting to discern which of the two games is "better" than the other is ultimately fruitless, as the two games set out to accomplish vastly different goals. kh2 is more concerned with telling an epic story and having stylish, fast-paced, engaging combat. kh1 seeks to tell a relatively simple story, and instead of making you feel like an ultra-instinct combat god, it primarily wants to transport you to these disney worlds and truly immerse you in them. the idea of putting you, the player, into these worlds is core to the design philosophy of kh1 - evident both in how the worlds themselves function and how the game is fundamentally played.

in kh1, there is a huge emphasis on interacting with the worlds, whether to progress the story or for secrets/optional items. this level of interaction with your environment is just not present in kh2 - the game rarely, if ever, asks you to do so much as solve a puzzle or do some basic platforming. this also extends to the structures of the worlds: kh1's worlds are much more open-ended with many different interconnected rooms and pathways, while kh2's worlds are mostly very linear, focusing more heavily on making arenas for combat encounters. this comparison is most clearly on display when comparing both games' versions of halloween town. in kh1, almost every single room has multiple ways to reach it, as well as mulitple other rooms that you can reach from it. kh2's halloween town, however, is essentially s single long hallway from one end of the world to the other with only a couple of rooms off of that path (which, themselves, don't lead anywhere else). this design philosophy of getting from point A to point B with little resistance can often lead to the worlds feeling like you're walking from one cutscene/scripted battle to the next, whereas in kh1, there's a greater emphasis on exploration, and you end up coming across the story as you explore. kh1s lack of a map also means that if you want to be able to effectively navigate the worlds, you need to pay attention to howthe different rooms connect to each other and how the world is structured, further immersing you in the world.

the other big design philosophy difference that i see between kh1 and 2 is each game's camera. now, i'm not going to sugarcoat it: i really, really hate how the camera in kh1 controls. it just... feels wrong. that said, however, i think how it is used by the game does a lot for what the game strives to do and be. this point pretty much comes directly from Regular Pat's KH Hot Takes Tournament video, which probably does a better job explaining this than I do, and I highly recommend watching the video for some new perspective on the series. essentially, the biggest difference between the two games' cameras, besides how they control, is where they are in relation to sora. in kh2, the camera is more zoomed out and higher above sora, allowing the player to more easily see what is behind and above sora. while most wouldn't bat an eye at this, as a wider camera angle is so common in action games, thinking about it for a bit can lead to a bit of break in immersion. we, the player, are able to see things sora is incapable of seeing, and make sora react to them (one of luxord's games even requires you to do this). in contrast, kh1's camera is more pulled in and close to the ground, only allowing you to see what is in front if sora and a bit to either side - essentially, you can see what sora sees plus a little bit more peripheral vision. the person in Regular Pat's video described it as if you use the left stick to control sora's body and the right stick to control his eyes. the way the camera puts you in sora's perspective causes the scale of many things in the game to be much more imposing and threatening - most notably bosses like cerberus and maleficent dragon. the way these bosses tower over you can make them feel that much more threatening, and as a result, that much more satisfying to beat.

personally, i don't think any of the differences presented here are a matter of better or worse between the two games. they're simply different. i prefer kh2 because its story and focus on combat are more engaging to me than the immersive experience of kh1. but at the same time, there is a dreamlike quality to kh1 that i simply cannot deny, and i can absolutely see why one might prefer that game to 2. the games seek to achieve such different goals that i don't think it's a matter of which game is better or worse, but which game works more for you in particular.

[heartfe1t]

nini knew, admittedly, she might easily run into ricky on her winter break. being back home in utah for the next few weeks, there would be plenty of time for that. she just hadn't expected it on the very first day. she just flew in from jfk last night, and now she's come to get herself a nice hot latte and sit down with a script for a class she'll be starting when she gets back to school in january. she had to be honest, she had kept up with ricky's life more than she perhaps should've, as his ex. going to the youth actor's conservatory senior year- watching ricky fall for someone else from afar... had been tough- but she was happy for him, really. it was hard to see him engaged, harder still to hear her childhood best friend was engaged from an instagram post and not from him. but again- she was happy he'd found someone who could be everything he needed. and she was exploring her possibilities anyway. she'd gone to new york city for college- screamed with kourtney over facetime about her acceptance letter, and left ricky a voicemail about it. it was late, she hadn't expected him to pick up, and maybe it was easier he didn't.

but it was also from the internet, and only from the internet (and admittedly, her moms) that she knew ricky was having a baby with lily... that she saw the post come down with her ex boyfriend's new love's engagement ring... after their daughter was born- greer. a pretty name for what was surely a beautiful baby girl. nini always thought she'd be the one having a baby with ricky- though she never expected it this fast. she's sure they didn't either. especially given the whole... lily starting over thing. she thinks she's seen the blonde a time or two- hasn't been sure enough to try to talk to her. hasn't been sure what she'd say anyhow. and as much as she always thought about reaching out to ricky, she knew if he needed her he knew he could reach out to her- and given he sort of cut their communication- she wasn't sure he'd want to hear from her anyway.

when the tall man with that dark curly hair turns around in a hurry and nearly sweeps her off her feet, she wasn't expecting ricky, but as she looks him in the eyes, she'd know him anywhere, as startled as she might look now... and he knows her too, even these three years later.   ❝    i've been pretty good- college is pretty cool, though i miss my moms a lot when i'm away. hence coming back here for break.   ❞    she waves her hand dismissively, a rosy hue coming to her cheeks.   ❝    how are you? i mean... presumably you've been better- i've heard, some of it... but look at this sweet little face   ❞    she expresses her awareness, doesn't want to brush off his predicament with his ex-fiancee, but doesn't want to harp on it either. she practically gushes over the baby though, seeing him hold her in his arms is more attractive to her than she'd like to admit... but then nini's always been attracted to him... and she probably shouldn't admit that either.   ❝    she's beautiful, ricky- truly. i can't believe you have a kid...   ❞    or that he has a child with someone other than her, but they'd broken up for a reason. to let each other find what they needed in life...

ricky    bounced    greer    on    his    hip,    trying    to    soothe    the    little    girl    as    they    stood    in    line    at    the    coffee    shop.    he    was    exhausted.    he'd    been    playing    the    part    of    single    dad    since    his    fiancé    had    left    him    almost    a    year    earlier,    just    a    few    months    after    the    birth    of    their    daughter,    and    some    days,    all    he    wanted    was    to    take    a    vacation    to    a    private    island    and    sit    in    silence.    just...    silence.    but    as    greer    pulled    at    the    neck    of    his    sweatshirt    and    her    lower    lip    jutted    out    with    the    promise    of    a    full-blown    meltdown,    he    knew    he    should    probably    just    turn    around    and    leave.    did    he    really    need    coffee    that    bad?    he    was    twenty-one,    he    could    do    a    day    without    caffeine,    right?    

sighing,    he    turns    on    his    heel    and    nearly    runs    right    into    someone.    a    brunette,    with    the    prettiest    eyes    he'd    ever    seen.    and    then,    realization    took    hold,    as    he    started    to    recognize    the    doe    eyes    looking    back    at    him.    ❝    oh,    wow...    nini...    hey.    how've    you    been?    ❞    he    asks,    hand    rubbing    soothing    circles    against    greer's    back.    he    was    trying    not    to    blush.    he'd    missed    her.    they'd    drifted    apart,    largely    because    of    lily,    and    he'd    been    almost    embarrassed    when    she    left    him    to    pursue    her    acting    career    sans    future    husband    and    baby    daughter.    he    hadn't    wanted    to    reach    out    after    that.    and    while    lily    was    still    in    greer's    life,    she    didn't    want    much    to    do    with    ricky.    maybe    that    was    his    fault,    for    putting    his    all    into    raising    their    daughter.    he'd    been    wrapped    around    her    finger    from    the    first    ultrasound.

@heartfe1t

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

[the-narrators-ramblings]

I can't believe I'm doing this.

I just don't get it. Why does everyone insist I have feelings for Stanley? I hate him! I've made that so very, very clear, and yet they simply don't stop? They pester me with their thoughts, baring their teeth when I stand my ground. I mean, really?

I get that we're stuck together, but does that really mean that I would inevitably think of him that way? For most of my existence, I haven't even been human! For us to be together is simply preposterous.

Oh, who am I kidding? Clearly, nobody. Everyone else has either acknowledged it or tried to convince me of it. I've tried so hard to really, truly believe that I could ever see Stanley as anything more than my enemy, but the longer I try not to think about it, the worse it's going to nag at me akin to a fly buzzing about a room.

I think that- just maybe- I might love Stanley. It's just...God, I'm being over-dramatic about all of this. I just don't know what to do about it! As much as I know him, as much as I may insist to myself that I can read him like lines on a script, I cannot. I don't understand what goes on in his head.

This is all so confusing! At most, maybe we could be friends. No matter how many colours I paint the sunset, it will continue to be beautiful in it's own way. I cannot change my thoughts on Stanley. I've left them sit and rot for so long that, now that I have finally picked them up and dusted them off, they've cemented themselves in their corner of my brain. All I can do is move them forward.

Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get.

Addition #1 (because I know I'm going to make more of these eventually.)

When I had declared that I was going to stop looking at Tumblr to search for Stanley, I really was being honest, but...

I had something I've now been able to identify as a "mental breakdown". I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, I was back to square one. I forgot that I was human. I sat on the floor, and I cried. I haven't been able to pinpoint why, but I remember that it hurt. It hurt more than I had ever hurt before- and really, I hadn't. I was able to block those feelings out, but now?

Why is this so difficult? I cannot properly articulate what happened to me then, however long it was. I must have spent hours sitting there, attempting to ground myself to no avail. I don't know what brought me out of it, but I'm thankful to whatever it was. I might've never gotten anywhere without it.

Addition #2

I do not know for sure, but I believe it may have been the imaginary kittens that made me feel better. Such small creatures that unknowingly hold so much joy!

Yes, I feel infinitely better just thinking about them. How peculiar, how simple kittens bring so much happiness. I suppose I will have to study this some other time.

Addition #3

I don't know how to feel.

He said he would kiss me. He said

He lied. He didn't mean it. He didn't fucking mean it. He never meant any of it. He lied to me. Why did he lie to me? Does he hate me that much? I thought we had finally decided to turn over a new leaf, he said he was sorry.

I really, really don't know how to feel. This is different. I just don't want to talk to him right now. Not for a while. I don't know how long "a while" will last, but I just hope that he doesn't come and bother me.

Addition #4

I'll be honest, I forgot about this. Probably not for the best.

I am a terrible, horrible person. I've come to that conclusion a few times. I want to think that I have come to peace with it. Going back to that chocolate analogy I made earlier; I feel as though I have picked one out of the box older than others. The sugar has settled and has gone rotten.

Curiosity does really kill the cat, doesn't it? I wanted to know who I was, and look what that's brought me. I don't even know what my thoughts on Stanley are anymore. Surely, he hates me, there's no denying it. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Addition #5

I'm worried about Stanley. I wanted to forget about him. I wanted to return to the life I had before, because at least that made sense. At least I knew where it was going. I hated that life, but at the very least, it made sense.

It hurts.

Addition #6

I don't think there's a much worse scenario than this. I can't let him get hurt, but at the same time, I could get both of us killed.

Why? Why did this happen? Why did it have to be me?

...

Six wouldn't mind taking another favor, would he?

[witcher-and-his-bard]

Winter Prompts Day 17: Together Apart 🌲

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): none Rating: general

Fic Summary: Geralt regrets not asking Jaskier to accompany him to Kaer Morhen, he finds letters Jaskier wrote him to keep him company.

🌲 Doing this thing  🌲

Geralt has spent years alone on the Path and years alone during winters he couldn't bring himself to return to Kaer Morhen after Blaviken, but he's never felt quite so alone as he does this year. This year is the first since he and Jaskier reunited after the dragon hunt and Geralt's regretting not asking Jaskier to join him at the keep this year. He should have, it would have been another step toward proper reconciliation, but Geralt had been too afraid that Jaskier would say no, that it would be too soon for him. And Geralt doesn't want to push anything. He knows he fucked up, that he hurt Jaskier with what he said - awful words that he never even meant. 

Geralt slumps back against his bed and sighs. It's his first night home and he can't sleep. It must be well past midnight and he's still wide awake, still full of regret and thinking about Jaskier. When he'd arrived, Eskel was surprised to find him alone; Eskel is the only one Geralt has told about Jaskier, though not even he knows about their fight and subsequent reunion. He'd been expecting to meet Jaskier this year, but Geralt hadn't been brave enough to ask. 

He knows he's been sulking and he knows his brothers and Vesemir and all their guests have noticed, but thankfully have been gracious enough not to mention it. Because Geralt doesn't want to explain how badly he thinks he's fucked up. Lambert has been taunting him for years about Jaskier and every year Vesemir peeks over Geralt's shoulder to see if he's brought him. And Geralt wants to, obviously, he does, but he doesn't know how to ask. 

So he's here feeling absolutely miserable and wishing he was anywhere else as long as Jaskier was there with him. Tonight, he's hiding up in his room wishing he could hear Jaskier's voice again, smell the scent of bath oils on his skin. Abruptly, Geralt remembers the shirt at the bottom of his pack. Jaskier was the last one to wear it after his own was left at his most recent lover's house in their rush to escape his angry partner. 

Geralt would never admit to anyone how quickly he gets up off the bed and grabs his pack from its spot on the floor. He digs through it until he finds something at the bottom, but it's not his shirt. There's a folded piece of paper he knows doesn't belong to him, it's too smooth and folded much neater than anything he would have. And when he pulls it out, he recognizes Jaskier's script on the front, just one simple word: Geralt. 

Geralt unfolds it and scans the paper quickly. It's… a letter. Geralt holds his breath as he reads it through thoroughly. 

Dear Geralt,

I hope you are at least on your way before you find this because I should truly perish if you found it too soon and confronted me. I know things aren't back to normal just yet, but I wish I'd been brave enough to tell you before you left that I love you. I know it's terrible to tell you in a letter, but when spring comes, if you still want to see me, you can hear it in person. For now, I've written you letters to keep you company over the winter. Think of me until we meet again, my darling. 

Yours, Jaskier.

Geralt looks down at the letter in stunned surprise, running his finger over I love you. A smile crosses his face despite himself and he hums softly, folding the paper once more and holding it firmly in his hand. His heart is still beating a little quicker than normal and he doesn't miss Jaskier any less - if anything, he misses him more - but he feels better, feels connected to him, even if they are so far apart. And when he looks in the bottom of his bag, he spots the other promised letters and takes count of them so he can space them out over the rest of the winter. 

His chest swells with emotion as he thinks about the time Jaskier must have spent writing these letters, tucked away in their room at an inn or sitting up late by the fire. Geralt shuts his eyes and pictures him, tongue poking between his lips and hair flopping into his eyes and he smiles. 

"I love you, too," he whispers quietly into the dark. 

[whisper-my-serenade]

but only in their dreams can men be truly free.

ao3 link

Neil Perry x Todd Anderson | 3190 words

Summary: When Neil Perry closed his eyes, he was in his dorm room at school. When he opened them, he was not where he should have been: in the home of his future self.

Part I

When Neil Perry closed his eyes, he was in his dorm room at school. Todd was on the other side of the room, turned away from him but probably awake. He was in his own bed, shivering even under the two layers of blankets, the silence resounding. The room was sound and calm, but Neil’s life was not.

His father had been there. Oh God, his father had come all the way there just to chew him out about the stupid play. Stupid, stupid, stupid, that was such a bad idea. But it wasn’t stupid. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him. When he was onstage, he felt a little less like he was dying. And his father wanted to take it away, the way he took away everything Neil had ever liked about himself. He was trapped. And this time he wasn’t just talking about his terribly oppressive boarding school.

When he closed his eyes, he could imagine his life was different. He could imagine that he could pick to go to school anywhere he liked, could be in any club his heart desired, could run across the country and make a life for himself that didn’t just make him feel alive, but made him happy. He could be an actor, have his own house and friends and dreams, have a boyfriend even (when he closed his eyes, he could not see Todd on the other side of the room). Sometimes he wanted to sew his eyelids shut. Things were much better when they were closed. So he kept them closed. He did not see the moon rise bright and full outside his window. He did not see the last vestiges of fall shaken off their boughs by the wind. He did not see Todd turn around to look at him in the night, eyes wide and wistful. He closed his eyes and held them firmly shut.

When Neil Perry opened his eyes, he was somewhere else. It was dark, wherever it was, and it took his eyes a minute to adjust. It was an apartment, a small one with a kitchen and a living room and a big bay window in the back. There was a hallway off to one side, the moonlight not reaching far enough to show where it led. The place was empty now, but little things all around showed that someone definitely lived there. There were half-empty mugs of coffee and tea on almost every surface, papers and books scattered around and underneath them. There was a gray cat purring in the windowsill, a small silver bell hanging from its neck. A blanket was tossed over the couch beside an open book, laid face-down to keep its place. And photos on the wall. Photos of someone who looked scarily like Neil, maybe a few years older, on a beach, in a museum, performing on a stage. Most of the photos had another person in them. Reading, standing in some ruins, sitting in a window. In one, he had his lips to the other man’s cheek. He looked scarily like Todd. Maybe a few years older.

Neil felt like he was floating as he walked around the apartment, drinking in every detail. There was a script for Hamlet on the kitchen counter, heavily pen-marked. There was a record-player with a sizable collection of jazz vinyls next to it. There were scraps of paper everywhere, most of which only had a few words scribbled down on them before whoever wrote them cast them aside. Neil didn’t touch a thing, only felt his feet carry him across the wooden floor as he peered around the rooms. Two chairs at the table in the kitchen. Two jackets on the hook by the door. Two framed degrees above a crowded writing desk. One bed, a double bed, pushed into the corner of the bedroom.

Neil was staring at it, slack-jawed, when he heard the door opening from the living room. He rushed back out just in time to see himself walk through the door. Well, it wasn’t him, not exactly. His hair was a little longer, his clothes a little more casual, his under-eyes unstained by dark purple bags. Other-Neil stared at him for a second, a confused look on his face, before he was pushed out of the doorframe by another figure.

“What are you standing there for? See a ghost, or something?” Another Todd laughed, maneuvering into the kitchen to set down the tinfoil-covered tray in his arms. He flicked a few lamps on, and the apartment was bathed in a soft orange light.

“Nothing, nothing,” Other-Neil said, not looking away from Neil’s face. His expression had changed from confusion to bemusement as he kicked his shoes off by the door.

The cat had run up to Todd, pushing its small gray face against his leg, and Todd conceded to it by kneeling down to scratch behind its ears. His hair was longer, too, parted down the middle and pushed out of his face. He looked up at Other-Neil with a playful smile on his face, and Neil noticed a thin silver chain around his neck that had a ring hanging off it. “I think your brain’s just been fried. That’s the last time we trust Meeks to make trivia for us, huh?”

Other-Neil laughed, looking away from Neil to help Todd to his feet. “I think you’re just mad because you got that Moby Dick question wrong.” Todd rolled his eyes. That, at least, was familiar to Neil.

“Says the guy who couldn’t remember the formula for ammonia. So much for chemistry whiz kid, huh.”

Other-Neil smiled as he wrapped his arms around Todd’s waist. “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve done chemistry.” Todd smiled, leaned forward, and pecked Other-Neil on the jaw before pulling away from his arms.

“Maybe I would have done better if I wasn’t so exhausted. I think I’m just gonna take a shower and go to bed,” Todd said as he turned to go down the hallway, head twisted around to look at Other-Neil as he walked. There was something implied in his tone, but Neil couldn’t quite tell what. His brain felt rather fried at the moment, too.

“Sounds lovely.” Neil watched himself smile and follow Todd down the hall. At the last second before he disappeared, Other-Neil turned to the younger version of himself, who had listened, unmoving, to the whole conversation. He winked, then closed the door of the bathroom behind him.

When Neil Perry blinked, he was back in his bed in his dorm in his school, and Todd was asleep across the room.

Part II

It was all over. His father was pulling him out of Welton, taking everything that had ever made him happy. He would never act again, never be taught by Mr. Keating again, probably never see Charlie or Todd or anyone. Neil wanted to cry, to let out a strangled scream in the hopes that someone, anyone would hear and see that the last string in him had broken. But to his dismay he seemed numb to it now, not a single tear escaping his eyes. There was a little bit of relief in him. It was all over.

The weapon gleamed on his father’s desk in front of him. The little bit of moonlight creeping through the study’s windows turned the room a cool blue, and Neil let out a breath. It was all over. He felt the metal in his hands, and closed his eyes, thinking it might make the process easier.

When he opened them, he smelled garlic.

He was in the same apartment, but this time the overhead lights were on and the place glowed a bright yellow. The dishes on the coffee table had been cleared away, a few stacks of musty-looking books having taken their place. Another cat, a calico one with round green eyes, stared at him from where it was curled up on the couch. The last dregs of daylight crept through the bay window, and Neil could hear the scrape of dishes and something sizzling.

“Neil, could you get the bread out of the oven?” He heard Todd call from the kitchen, and Neil watched himself dart from the hall to comply. Body shaking, air warm on his bare chest, Neil followed him.

The smell of the food was almost overwhelming in the kitchen. Todd stood over a large saucepan, stirring noodles into some cream sauce and trying not to knock into any of the other dishes on the stove. Other-Neil caught Neil’s eye as he set a tray of garlic bread on the counter, smiling and pulling off the oven mitts. Neil watched silently as Other-Neil walked up behind Todd, snaking his arms around Todd’s waist and setting his chin on his shoulder.

“This is done, so…” Todd trailed off as he smiled softly, hand reaching behind his head to card through the hair at Neil’s neck. No, Other-Neil’s neck. Whoever this was, it was not Neil. Wasn’t it?

The two of them一Todd and Other-Neil一split the task of dishing out the food until it was just Todd pouring wine into two mismatched glasses. Other-Neil slumped into his chair on the right side of the table, resting his chin in his hands as he watched Todd sit in his own chair on the left.

“Can’t believe you cooked all this for me. You’re too good to me, you know that?” Other-Neil’s voice was warm and untroubled, picking up his fork to start the meal.

“You deserve it,” Todd glanced up from his own plate. “You’ve been so busy with your show and everything, I thought it’d be nice to have a night in.”

“Who knew I’d end up being such a sucker for domestic bliss.” Other-Neil laughed as he lifted his glass to his lips. Neil noticed a silver ring on one of his fingers.

“Just what your father always wanted, huh?” Todd smiled wide, the way Neil rarely saw his Todd do. This Todd seemed…happier. Loosened-up. Something in the way conversation flowed through him and Other-Neil made Neil jealous. Sure, Todd had aged a bit, but he still had the same fine features, the same bright blue eyes, the same smile. He looked as gorgeous as ever, and Other-Neil seemed to be drinking in every inch of him, blissfully in love. Neil felt a pang in his heart when he looked at them, and in his mind was Todd’s face through the car window, the pain and the questions and words he might never get to say.

Neil flinched at the mention of his father, but Other-Neil did not. He laughed at the joke instead, dimples showing and eyes crinkled shut. “Oh yes, I’m sure this is exactly how my father dreamed my life would be.”

Neil could have sworn that at that, Other-Neil threw a brief glance in his direction. Then he turned back to Todd, to his beautiful, happy Todd, and Neil felt something warm pass through his chest.

When he blinked, his eyes opened to the dark study again, the gun fallen out of his hand onto the floor. His heart pounded, his hands shook, and yet he swore he could still smell the meal, somewhere in a dark part of his mind. Suddenly he felt sick, Todd and Other-Neil’s faces flying around and distorting in his head, and it was all he could do to race back up to his room and throw himself under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut and praying for the first time in his life. Praying that when he opened them, he would be in that little apartment again, that he could see the cats and the papers and the photos and that version of himself that he wasn’t quite sure existed.

Part III

Neil did sleep that night, miraculously. A few times he found himself waking in a cold sweat, any number of terrors flashing in his eyes, but all it took was a few seconds of slow breaths (and the thought of himself with slightly longer hair) until his heartbeat evened out and he was brought back into reality. He tried not to think about what he’d almost done. What would he regret more when the morning came, the fact that he came so close to going through with it or the fact that he hadn’t? Those stupid dreams (for he had to have been dreaming, what else could it have been?) were making this whole thing a lot more complicated than Neil wanted it to be. They made him feel a hope he knew he hadn’t earned.

But Neil could see him. Other-Neil could see him, even if Neil was pretty sure Other-Todd couldn’t. Neil stared at his ceiling, his ceiling, and, like any good student, tried to logic through the situation. He could certainly control himself in the dreams, he could move anywhere he liked and he wasn’t flying or anything. He didn’t know if he could move things or talk, but then again, he hadn’t tried. And it all seemed so vivid, far too detailed to be just a figment of his imagination or even a memory. But Other-Neil saw him and acknowledged him, let him know that he was more than a fly on the wall, and the idea of being able to communicate with a future version of yourself through prophetic dreams sent Neil over the edge. He closed his eyes tight until his mind stopped spinning, and when he opened them, he was still in his dark bedroom. He forced himself to sleep again, counting sheep until the morning came and with it the destruction of whatever future he was delusional enough to believe he was seeing.

When Neil woke up, he was curled on the floor in front of the bay window, both cats circling him and sniffing him curiously. He blinked in the bright sunlight, slowly sitting up and orienting himself. The apartment was quiet, dust curling in the sunbeams. A sweatshirt was hanging off the back of the couch in front of him, and Neil could just see the edge of the Columbia University logo on it, which matched one of the degrees hanging on the wall above him. The English major one. The one with Todd’s name. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the other one.

Neil carefully stood up as the cats raced away, bells jingling on their necks. He followed the gray one down the hall and into the bedroom, noticing the door was already half-open. The sun from the window was dimmed by the curtains, but just enough cream-colored light got through to make the room glow warmly. More clothes were cast around the foot of the bed, and Neil let them lead his eyes upward. Two figures were cocooned in the duvet, both facing the wall. Todd on the left, Neil on the right, one’s back pressed to the other’s chest. Both shirtless, too; Neil felt his cheeks go slightly red, thankful the blankets were pulled up to their shoulders. Both sound asleep.

Or so Neil thought. After a minute, Other-Neil stirred slightly. He shifted his head to see Neil, blinking the sleep from his eyes, hair sticking up in odd directions like Neil’s always did in the morning. Because it was Neil.

Other-Neil smiled when he realized who he was. “Oh. You’re here again,” he murmured, turning his head back into Todd’s neck.

“I don’t know why,” Neil said, surprised by his own voice, though him and Other-Neil sounded the same, of course.

“I don’t think ‘why’ is the point,” Other-Neil said. Neil pondered that for a moment, but could come to no conclusion. He seemed much more confused about the situation than the other man. If his eleven-year-old self were to walk into his bedroom one morning he would have a heart attack.

“Is this real?” Neil asked, scared by the fragility in his tone.

“You’re seeing it, aren’t you? Doesn’t that make it at least a little bit real?”

There was bitter silence for a minute. “You’re an actor.” Neil said it as a statement. Maybe that would make it more true.

“I am,” Other-Neil said simply.

“And him?” Neil nodded his head toward Todd, who was still sleeping soundly.

“What about him?” Other-Neil turned to look at him again, confusion in his face. “Wait, you know who he is by now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s- It’s Todd.” Other-Neil said nothing more, only smiling fondly at the man lying next to him. Other-Neil’s hands were around Todd’s waist, Neil realized. This future him seemed to do that a lot. “Is he…”

“Is he what?”

“Is he one of us?” Could he love me back? Is that part of this future possible?

Other-Neil laughed at that, like it was a stupid question. “Take a wild guess.”

“How long until…” Neil couldn’t seem to finish the sentence, suddenly choked up.

“What month is it for you?”

“December. 1959.”

A strange expression fell over Other-Neil’s face, somewhere between anger and sympathy. But after a second it evened out, and when he spoke, his voice was kind. “Only a few more months, then. He’s almost ready.”

As if on queue, Todd stirred, shifting his head towards Other-Neil with eyes barely open. “Neil, baby, who’re you talking to?” His voice was heavy and low with sleep, and the word seemed to come easy. Baby. Neil’s heart leapt.

Other-Neil turned away from Neil, raising his hand to thumb small motions on Todd’s upper arm. “My younger self,” he said with a coy grin. “He has no idea what he’s got coming.”

Todd flipped his head back down onto the pillow. “I should put you in the nuthouse one of these days.”

Other-Neil gave a quiet laugh. “But then who else would go to all those poetry readings with you? Who would buy all your mugs?” Todd’s laugh rang through the room, and he flipped himself around to kiss Neil gently on the mouth. Well, Other-Neil, unfortunately.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you around, then,” he said, face not more than an inch above his lover’s. “Now go back to sleep, or so help me God.”

Other-Neil laughed again, letting out a deep sigh as Todd settled his head in the crook of his neck. There was a minute of silence, and Neil could hear the dim sounds of the city waking up outside. “I love you,” Other-Neil said quietly, hands working circles on Todd’s bare back.

Todd gave a small smile, eyes closed. “Love you too, Neil.”

And the other Neil, the one standing over them with tears streaming down his face, closed his eyes too, knowing that when he opened them, this little piece of paradise he was witnessing would be gone, but the words would stay. Todd’s voice resonated in his head as his vision stayed dark. Love you too, Neil. It was Neil he was talking to, after all, regardless of when or where or why. And with that, Neil Perry, the only Neil Perry, opened his eyes.

(oh, um @inahallucination @crumbly-apple-pie and lmk if you want to be tagged in the future!!)

[fleurlia]

here is part two of this.

[7:13 pm] for all the phases you have been through in the past few months, all of them were disastrous. a couple of months after jeno has told you about his proposal karina and he appears with new rings, explaining to everyone how both just choose to make things more swiftly and not wait until graduation.

you already knew it but that didn't stop you from spending at least twenty minutes crying pathetically in the ladies' room.

certainly when you thought things couldn't get any worse, believe me, they did. you were convinced for the moment karina asked you to help her choose the dress. again, you couldn't blame anyone against yourself.

renjun and donghyuck stood next to you, holding their laughs as she was asking for help in the most loving way. just for when she was gone the duo were shouting loud and attempting to comfort your poor heart. following that, you saw yourself sat there watching karina trying on more than a thousand wedding dresses, for getting married to the love of your life.

it would be easier to hate her if she was a bitch and 20% less attractive. you thought.

and talking about him, you couldn't even hold his gaze without looking weepy and bitter. your friendship existed only by devices, which you believed would be turned off the moment he said yes to her.

after a year of planning and torture, the big day has arrived and even though you have created every possible excuse, none seemed good enough to not going to your best friend's wedding. including a sweet smile, your mom comforted you as you got ready for the wedding, holding up tears and making yourself at least looking attractive on the worst day of your life. you asked more than once for your mother to be merciful and to fake an accident but she keeps telling you how could you get over it if you didn't see "the dead body".

instructed to stay at least a few minutes late, you made everything possible to be delayed. not wanting to arrive and have to deal with the reception and face the bride and groom. not craving to deal with the fact that if you held more than five seconds alone with jeno, you would presumably tell him the truth that was stuck in your throat. then when you arrive everyone was already at the ceremony, your entry causing a small noise that drew attention. jeno's eyes catching yours immediately.

the couple looking supremely beautiful, like always. the dress that karina and you have picked just not fits her but makes everyone around her look poorly ugly. oh my god, i hate myself so much. that was the only thing going through your mind.

sitting down next to renjun, he sends you a glance. "it's almost ended, i thought you were not coming."

"as if i were that lucky"

he chuckles but gently takes your hands. even though you said more than a thousand times that you didn't want anyone feeling sorry for you, he tried his best to make things a little better.

while the minutes started to grow, your mind stopped a few more every time that ceremony got close for the "yes". holding up every tear you possess in your body, you almost failed as the old lady next to you smile in your direction and whispered;

"what are you from the groom??"

"i... i am his best friend, since freshman year at college."

"oh, that's why he is looking right here all the time."

quietly you agreed with her, not even daring yourself to look up and catch all of his stares. the moments pass with you staring to anywhere, you couldn't even look at them without feeling your chest squeeze in sharp pain.

"so lee jeno, do you take this woman as your wife to lover her, respect her, and looking for her?"

wishing to not stand there or even existed, you were close to starting to crying but renjun squeezed your hands and all that people heard at next was; "yes, i do."

lee jeno, the love of your life just got married... but it's was not whit you.

later on, — this including the time you spent crying and sobbing in the car — you were supposed to go to the celebration and that's is what you did as a supportive friend.

the first hour was going like a blink, you have to pretend so much happiness that the idea of the newlyweds just got blanked out of your mind. it was the last straw when jeno's sister approached you with a gentle smile, you could feel her pity just by the look on her face and you felt even more miserable when she said it in a low tone: ''i always thought that on a day like today, you would be my new sister.''

that hurt so much.

the rest of the night passed like a blur, a slow and painful blur. you had taken so many pictures and you were sure that you looked ridiculous in the picture with the bride and groom, donghyuck and renjun were there to support you but your false happiness was quickly destroyed by jeno's stares.

almost at the end of the celebration, everyone full of the food and tired from the dancing, people decided it was time for the speeches and in the crowd of invited people you hid behind your friends. if by any chance the universe hated you that much you would be chosen to give some words and you were ready to make a whole speech based on rose's in "love, rosie". it would be tragic.

karina's mother said beautiful words to the couple and praised jeno so much that you at that moment felt happy for him. many relatives passed by, all of them talking about how perfect they were for each other and at end wishing them happiness. you felt like a jealousy bitch at every second.

almost at the end of all your torture, you already agreed that renjun or one of his friends would take you home because you didn't even want to talk, it was the newlyweds' turn to speak. karina sounded so perfectly in love with every word she spoke out. you were thankful to be far away from the couple because your stomach flipped as you watched jeno stand up, straightening his suit and black hair.

you were about to get up and walk away, not wanting to hear about how much he loved her and was grateful to be married to her but after a second thought, you knew you would draw pitying and pitiful glances in your direction.

"i can give you more than a thousand and one reasons about how i ended up here, married to karina." his soft voice echoing throughout the room. "one of them is because sometimes... we don't notice that what we need is right under our noses. sometimes we even notice... but only a few people dare themselves to confess their love to that person.'' at that point nobody else understood where he was getting at with that speech. just like all evening, you didn't attempt to look at him and be unlucky enough to find him also watching you.

''one more reason why we are here, on this particular night, is that maybe i took too long to realize, waited for too long. i wish i could confess this earlier because... deep down i always knew it was you. the love of my life and my best friend.''

something inside of you clicked. back when you started to date, jeno looked you up one day and you fought, he was just being jealous that your then-boyfriend also claimed to be your best friend and you didn't say anything, the point is that he would never call karina his best friend. on that day, both promise never forgets about their besties and never, never calling anyone ''best friend''.

nobody knew about that.

"if... if i could only go back in time... maybe i would tell myself how i should confess to you.'' you looked up, getting his gaze. you stood surprised when you noticed that his eyes were tearing up. ''if only i had known that we would be here today. i never would have let your lips leave mine years ago, on new years'. i never should have walked away. i never should have panicked. i never should have lost all those years without you... because i've realized that no matter where you are or what you're doing, or who you're with, i will always honestly, truly, completely love you.''

you couldn't believe in your damn bad luck.

you couldn't discover what was more pathetically tragic. the fact that karina would watch the video of her wedding in the future and see her husband confessing his love to someone who wasn't her. or the fact that jeno had chosen his wedding day to acknowledge that he loved you.

karina never kissed him on new year's, their first one was in a cinema. only you did, once in your second year as friends. you two never spoke about it.

karina didn't like romantic comedies, she was a literature major and only liked movies that was focussed on classics. you did. you had made jeno watch "love, rosie" so many times that you both knew the script.

with tears rolling down their cheeks, the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like hours. he loved you too. you both now knew about the other's love. inaudibly while you wiped your tears you both agreed that; maybe in another time, another life, we were meant for a happy ending. but not here, not at this moment.

but it didn't matter, only you two knew how much you loved each other and always would.

ok guys, sorry for making this so long and for any mistakes. let me know if you wanted to me doing scenarios, reactions or timestamps or even let my asks open for requests.

[redrobin-detective]

the end is where we start from

What we call the beginning is often the end / And to make an end is to make a beginning / The end is where we start from. ~ T.S. Elliot, Little Giddings

Danny was running, he didn’t know where to all he knew was who he was running from. He didn’t know if his parents were even coming after him, guns blazing and mouths sneering but he didn’t dare turn around to look. Maybe they weren’t even going to bother chasing him, maybe they were just happy the ghostly scum was out of their house. 

He saw the entrance to Amity’s deepest woods and he darted for it. It was dark and thick and easy to lose yourself in so people usually thought twice before they entered. But people like Danny had little else to lose. The sting of branches swiping at him before he could turn intangible, giant, gnarling roots tripping him up before he could float over him. But he didn’t dare slow down because that would mean acknowledging what had happened.

Another missed curfew, another argument where he and his parents talked about but around each other. Another ghost showing up just as he got dressed for bed, another transformation to take care of it before he could get some sleep. Only the same old script flipped on itself when Mom opened the door, bringing in some tea as an apology for her harsh words just into time to see her son become a ghost. Her gun was drawn before the cup hit the floor and shattered, along with Danny’s heart.

Deep in the thicket of the woods, his human lungs burned and his living muscles ached but he couldn’t turn into Phantom now. Not when it was the stupid ghost’s fault he wasn’t welcome in his own home anymore.

‘What are you doing with my son, ghost?’

‘Mom, please it’s Danny I can explain, please would you just listen?’

‘You can’t be alive and dead at the same time! It’s impossible!’ Oh god my baby died and I didn’t even notice’

‘Mom, Dad, listen to Danny, he’s telling the truth. This is why he never-’

‘Jasmine, you’ve been deceived that’s what ghosts do! That’s what Phantom in particular is known for!’

“Jazzy, Danno, I want to believe you, but it’s a lot to take in. Let us run some tests to make sure.’

‘Danny! Danny wait! Come back!’

Eventually his human body ran out of steam, adrenaline and desperation can only take a person so far. His speeding gait slowed to a lopping jog before settling into a quiet, miserable walk. He squeezed his eyes shut and dared to look over his shoulder but, of course, no one was there. It was just him, the darkness and his own woes.

“What am I going to do now?” He asked quietly, weakly as he fought back panicked tears. All he could see was his mother’s angry, grieving face. His father’s confusion as he tried to make sense of it all while trying to keep the peace. Jazz’s frustration and futile attempts to shield Danny from the worst of the shouting.

He had nothing on his person, why would he? He’d been about ready to go to bed when his whole world came crashing down. His worn Star Wars t-shirt and sweatpants offered little protection from the gloomy October weather but Danny’s ice core more than protected him from the chill. He welcomed it if anything, it matched the ice growing in his heart. No money to escape with, no phone to call for help, no tools to contain any ghosts he battled. He hadn’t even had dinner last night, too busy fighting ghosts. For the first time, Danny was well and truly on his own. Not even dying had seemed so scary.

“I can handle this,” Danny said with false calm. It was pitch dark around him but a little ectoplasmic light brightened the area up. “I’ll just stay here for the night and then I’ll check in tomorrow. If things are still bad, I’ll grab my gear and go.” Where he’d go was a whole other question but that wasn’t important right now. He was still too raw to think about what he’d do if he actually had to abandon his human life. All he could focus on right now was the hurt pulsing through him.

He wandered around in the dark for a little while longer, looking for a suitable place to set up camp for the night. Eventually, he came upon a set of twisting trees that was perfect for his purposes. Lightening his weight, he climbed up halfway and made a little ice tent in the branches. It was lightweight but thick, covering him up and serving as a shield between him and the rest of the world. In his own little ice palace, no one else could hurt him.

“There we go, home sweet home,” Danny mumbled as he crawled inside with a dull thump. He’d left a little skylight open, so he could look up at the stars. If he didn’t think too hard about it, he could imagine he was out camping with his dad or stargazing with his friends. “No, stop it. You’re only making it worse,” he said quietly to himself as the annoying flush of sadness washed over him. He didn’t like to cry; it made him feel stupid and childish and exhausted. Jazz had lectured him about the cleansing release of neurochemicals and other junk but really he usually felt worse after crying. 

“This is fine, everything is fine,” Danny sniffled, shuddering as he curled in on himself. The only cold that could hurt him was his own. It really wasn’t a great idea to use his that much of his ice in his human form, it chilled his body too much to be healthy. That, combined with his light clothes, the chilly night and that fact that he was laying on a solid block of ice, didn’t help matters. If Sam and Tucker could see him, they’d be shoving him in the shower to warm him up and plying him with food and blankets. Jazz and her dozen kind of herbal teas that help with mood or digestion or whatever would shove one or two into his hands and hover until he drank some. Their nagging was annoying but it was helpful and made him feel so loved. Love he wasn’t feeling out in the woods all by himself in the middle of the night.

“This is fine,” he repeated, more choked up this time and gave into his desire to cry. His chest hurt from the force of his sobs and eyes burned from the salty tears. He was flushed and cold and miserable but eventually, after wiping snot away from his nose and hiccupping quietly, he was ready to sleep. He was so worn out from all the hurting and the crying that he slipped from wakefulness as easy as going ghost.

“Child, what are you doing?” Danny groaned at the vaguely familiar voice. His ghost sense went off, reminding him once more how cold he was. He barely had it in him to shiver right now. “Ghost child, awaken and explain yourself.” Cold metal poked repeatedly into his side until Danny shoved the hand away, sitting up with a miserable glare.

“Go away, I’m not in the mood,” Danny grumbled, turning away from Skulker to try and go back to sleep. “I already feel bad enough, I don’t need you making it worse.”

“That does not explain why you are in a tree in the woods,” Skulker said slowly, still hung on stupid details. “The last I checked, the human Lair you stayed in was still standing. I stopped there to show you my latest weapon but you weren’t there, I traced your signature here.”

“Congrats, pass go and collect $200,” Danny sniped back quietly, not putting any heat into it. He didn’t have much to spare.

“Why are you out here, all alone?” Skulker frowned, “humans are susceptible to the elements, I presume you’re no exception given your current state. Just this once, I will stay the hunt to return you to your human Lair and we shall resume at a later-”

“No, I can’t go back,” Danny gasped fearfully, he curled in deeper on himself. “My parents, they know about me, about my powers. They didn’t take it well, I can’t- I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“But those human children-”

“I’m not getting them involved in this, they’re already in too deep. Tucker’s still grounded from that incident with Desiree and if Sam’s parents caught me in her room at night I’d lose the other half of my miserable life,” Danny grumbled. “Just leave me alone or kill me and take my pelt. Either one, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I see,” Skulker hummed, “stay here, Child, I will return.” Skulker said before flying off.

“Great, can’t wait,” Danny murmured as he rearranged himself on his ice block. He still felt unbearably cold but it probably wasn’t enough to actually kill him. Probably. “Stupid ghosts, stupid powers, if I hadn’t walked into that stupid portal, I’d be be safe and warm in bed right now and only have to worry about passing pre-calc.” It felt like he’d barely fallen back asleep when he was forcibly awaken by something soft and heavy dropping on him.

He phased out of the tangle only to find a bunch of blankets and heavy winter coat that looked 2 sizes too big for him. “What the-”

“Wow you weren’t kidding, babe, he looks like a trainwreck,” he heard Ember’s gruff voice say. “Hey dummy, put on the stupid coat. I ain’t had nerve endings in a while but I’m getting cold just looking atcha.”

“You bring your girlfriend to harass me in the middle of the night with,” Danny eyed the pile with price tags still on them, “stolen merchandise.”

“Shut up, we’re crashing your pathetic little pity party so you don’t die before I can off you myself,” the rock star huffed. “If that coat isn’t on you in five seconds, I’m manhandling your skinny arms into it.”

“Jeez you’re worse than my sister,” Danny grumbled even as he pulled the coat on. It was big but fluffy, the extra layer instantly made him feel a bit better. “Happy?”

“Getting there. Techy, you brought the food or what?” Danny yelped as a large amount of food dropped in through his skylight. It was an interesting mix, a jumbo bag of peanuts, dijon mustard, a jar of pickled eggs, a couple bags of chips and a box of uncooked macaroni noodles. “Here, eat some human food.”

“What?” Danny questioned as Technus poked his head into the icy tree house. 

“Oh nice place you got here child but it needs more lights and a flat screen and, oh, I can set you up with a killer stereo system over eek!” the technology ghost yelped as he was pulled back and Poindexter replaced him. 

“Hey Danny, heard you were in a bit of a bind. Thanks to you, my Lair’s school is a better place now, bully free. You can cool your jets with me if you need to fly the coop.” Danny didn’t answer and instead opened one of the bags of chips, barbeque and ranch sweet. 

“You can also stay on my island for however long you need to recover,” Skulker grumbled, like it pained him to say. “It’s no fun to hunt you when you’re so weak. I want to defeat you at your prime not at your lowest.”

“No, no, come to my lair! Everything is beeping and flashing all the time and I have a Minecraft room!” Technus interjected.

“I guess you could come to mine if you have to,” Ember huffed. “But aren’t you also buddy buddy with the Yetis bein’ an ice core and all? Or Queen Dora? Pretty much anyone will open their lairs to you with your stupid, beaten puppy dog eyes.”

“You guys, I don’t know what to say,” Danny said softly, taken aback by the show of kindness. He took in the blankets, the coat, the food, their offers. They didn’t understand, not really, but they were trying. It meant a lot, coming from his enemies. “Thank you.”

“Well, yeah, us nerds got to stick together,” Poindexter grinned.

“You’re human and an annoyance but your existence has given my afterlife quite a thrill. I’m not ready for the hunt to end quite yet,” Skulker announced.

“You’re our favorite nemesis,” Technus exclaimed, trying to squeeze his face back through the packed skylight. “We fight, we banter but we also support each other when we’re down! Whenever I’m feeling down, I come into the human world and our battles have me back up and running in no time!”

“Huh,” Danny said, looking down with a small smile. If his enemies could put aside their grudges and help him when he needed it then maybe... “Thanks again really but uh, I think I should go home, check in with my folks. Probably shouldn’t have run off like that but um, if it goes bad...”

“You’re part ghost,” Skulker said with a sharp nod. “The Zone is as much your home as it is ours. Really should get around to making a Lair one of these days. Only weak ghosts and parasites leech off of others.”

“You know the way back from here?” Ember asked. “Need an entourage?” 

“Yeah I got it,” Danny answered, triggering his transformation. Poindexter squealed with delight as he phased out of his sad little ice cave. It looked cold and lonely which wasn’t what he needed right now. “And I’ll- it’ll be fine. I don’t think bringing a bunch of ghosts home with me will help my case.”

“Farewell, Child. May your spirits be higher on our next meeting. Having the support of ghost hunters will certainly add to the challenge of the hunt,” Skulker grinned. “I look forward to it.” He flew off and the others followed. Danny smiled, watching them go for a moment before flying in the opposite direction towards his house.

He was halfway home when the Fenton Assault Vehicle careened around a corner at an unsafe speed. Danny jumped as it went past, startled out of invisibility. He made eye contact with his parents before the RV skidded to a screeching halt and then hastily backed up. The window rolled down and he met the wide, teary eyes of his mom and dad.

“Uh funny running into you in a place like this,” he said shyly, looking down.

“Oh thank heavens, Danny where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” His mother cried, jumping out of the RV and pulling him down into her arms. His father was on the phone, he heard Jazz’s name being mentioned, along with Sam and Tucker. “Baby, you’re freezing! Is this,” she paused, pulling back and delicately touching his wisp like hair. “Is that normal?”

“Sort of,” he said, leaning back into her touch. “It’s all kind of a long story. I shouldn’t have run off like that, I’m sorry.”

“No, you shouldn’t have but I don’t blame you,” Dad said, stepping out of the car and wrapping them both in a hug. “But Fenton men always make up for their goof ups. You were headed back home, right?”

“Yeah, home,” Danny sighed.

“Danny, I still don’t understand but I, we, love you and I’m sorry if we made you doubt that. We’ll work it out, sweetie, I promise. That’s what family does,” Mom said before ushering him and Dad into the car. “Now in you get, it’s too cold and too late for this and I do not want the neighbors complaining to the HOA again.”

Danny changed back in front of his parents for the second time that evening, this time intentionally. Their curiosity and happiness at seeing him overrode their earlier fear and confusion. He settled more comfortably into the backseat, warm and happy for the first time all evening.

“Danno, where’s you get the jacket?” Dad asked.

“My other family, don’t worry, I’ll explain it all tomorrow.”

[ohnopoe]

no goodbyes | remus lupin

Ship: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: Leaving Hogwarts and his position as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was hard enough, but leaving you was another thing all together Word Count: 1.7k+ Warnings: Self deprecation, a shitty world, and a surprisingly light amount of angst Author’s Note: Gender not specified/gender neutral. This turned out cuter than I expected tbh... This is for the wonderful wednesday writing challenge that @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape​ organise! The prompt is linked here because spoilers!

There was something bittersweet about returning home for Remus Lupin.

His family home was small and cramped, but soft and warm, filled with reminders of those who were no longer there. Family, friends, it seemed nothing truly lasted in his life, and that only felt more true as he returned now, before the end of term, before he had intended.

Another job lost to his condition.

Somehow the sting of it didn't cut as deep anymore, but then he'd been dealing with the same prejudice for over twenty-five years now, perhaps he was just getting used to it, he thought with a somewhat amused scoff.

He could understand the letters that had swarmed the school the morning the truth had been revealed, he could understand the fear the student's parents had at the thought of him teaching their children. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

And yet, that wasn't anywhere near the most painful part of leaving.

Harry had been disappointed, hell, he looked near heartbroken to see his favourite professor was packing up after all they had gone through in the past few days. And he understood the pain, he really did. The boy had no connection to his parents, and just as he had found two, both were stripped from him.

He would have to try and stay in contact with him, just as soon as he was able to track down Sirius, that is.

Sirius...

The man he had believed capable of betrayal for so many years.

The man he had once called brother, and now- what was he now? Could they go back to the friendship they once had after so much distrust? He could only hope so.

Perhaps there was some good to come from this year after all.

But the moment that thought filled his mind, another face filled his mind.

He had never expected to meet a kindred spirit when he took on the job. He had been determined to keep somewhat to himself, to do his job and make no waves. He hadn't expected you.

The laughter and joy, the late nights that had started out with marking homework together and soon dissolved into simply enjoying one another's company. There was an ease with you that he could not remember ever feeling before.

Even when there was no time, there was still something.

It had started so simply. A book was lent, a note slipped into it. Thoughts shared on a scrap of paper as it was returned.

It soon turned into a pattern.

Books were found with the purpose of being for the other, as you each excitedly awaited the day they would find it back to their gifter's desk, with a simple note which would hint at a long conversation that would come whenever they found the chance.

It was such a soft and gentle thing, and it was yours. 

And then there was the moment, only hours earlier, when you had walked into his office, with his book in hand. Your smile refused to meet your eyes, eyes that seemed to hint at a torrent of emotions that were pulled back. There was so much to say, so much he wished he could say, but how could he?

The truth was out, and it didn't matter that you had been there at his side regardless of the fact you had known from the moment he started working by your side. It didn't matter that you had been there the day after every moon, chocolate and pain potions in your bag as you simply sat with him, reading to him when he wanted company, or working silently at his desk when he needed to rest.

It wasn't just about your beliefs now.

Even if, by some miracle, you felt the same way he did, the world would never allow it. You would receive all the hell and prejudice that he needed to protect you from. His love could never be enough to make up for a world of hate. Could it?

He had held back, trying to appear as though his heart wasn't breaking as he realised this was the end.

There would be no more soft conversations or raucous laughter, no more working together as you each complained about the illegible handwriting of student's work.

This would be the last time you entered his office, as this would be the last time it would be his office. 

And the book in your hands, his book, would be the last one passed between you.

There was a sadness in your gaze as you looked him up and down, taking in each new mark with the same concern you showed every month, and it stole any words from his mind. How could he find something to say when someone as wonderful as you stood before him?

Your mouth had barely opened before a noise startled you both from behind. His classroom room was pushed open in a hurry, and he glanced down at the open map before him to confirm his suspicions. Harry was not about to let him leave that easily either.

Another broken smile filled your features as you turned away from the doorway to face him once more, and then you were walking forwards.

He felt as though he had been hit with the strongest of stunning spells as he simply watched, unable to convince his legs to move, or his arms to wrap you up and hold you against him as he longed to do. No, he simply watched silently as you placed the book down on his desk with a tenderness that seemed to cut through him.

And when your eyes met his, there was so much there, so much hidden in silence, that he never got a chance to explore.

Harry was at the door, and you were retreating already.

He wanted to follow, trapped in your aura, desperate to never leave you. But Harry needed this too, and as you turned to give him a single nod, he did his best to reconcile that this was the only goodbye he would get from the one he loved in secret.

Funny how he hadn't thought to look at the book after that. 

It had gone into his bag almost automatically as he spoke with the desperate boy, but even his subconscious had him holding it carefully, as if somehow he could retain your touch through the book itself.

Now, as he stood with bags in hand in the small cottage of his childhood, it was as though nothing were more important than finding that book and clinging to it.

Clothing and nick nacks were pushed aside as he searched the bag for the precious item, and he sighed with relief as the feel of familiar worn leather touched his skin.

A book on herbology, of all things. 

He hadn't even realised he had it before you had found it upon his shelves, and raised it with a tilted head, silently asking if you could borrow it.

Herbology was never a strength of his, and it turned out you were similarly lacking in talent in that department, yet you had taken it with a smile, soft and gentle. A smile that had him realising he would do anything to ensure that smile existed all the more often.

Now, the odd book seemed to be more important than any other, even if it still made little sense to him.

He couldn't help but treasure it as he ran a hand over the cover, staring at it in wonder.

Had you enjoyed it? Had you found it just as confusing as he had?

Now he would never get the chance to discuss it with you, your meetings abruptly ending with the sudden termination of his position.

He couldn't help but wonder, had you left a note in this book? Perhaps something small, a jest about the author's name fitting the topic suspiciously well.

It was with a certain trepidation that he opened the front cover.

What if there was nothing to be found? What if you had decided that after everything that had happened, you didn't even want to do this? What if that was why you had not said goodbye?

No. He was placed in Gryffindor for a reason, and opening a book was not going to be the thing that stopped him in his tracks.

The cover fell open, and he held his breath as he took in the small post-it note that sat right there, with your familiar script staring back at him.

It was a short note, shorter than most, but even the sight of that had him smiling to himself.

If you want to know my thoughts, you're going to have to meet me at The Leaky Cauldron for lunch the day after school lets out.

I'll understand if you don't want to

x

The huff of laughter that escaped him almost surprised him. But then, he should have known better than to doubt you. You had made it clear from the start that his condition wasn't something that would ever scare you off, going so far as to threaten him with a hex should he ever imply it again.

He should have known better, should have had faith in you.

Perhaps losing his job wasn't the end of everything, perhaps this was just another chapter in his life, and you would remain a steady character, if he would be lucky enough to keep you as a friend.

The note would be treasured, he knew that even now as he unstuck it from the front page, careful not to crease the proof of your unyielding loyalty.

But as he lifted it he noticed something else.

Light shone through the thin paper from the warmth of the fireplace, hinting at more dark ink on the other side.

There, in a slightly more shaky handwriting, but one that was undeniably still yours, held another message.

P.S. I never told you, but I was falling in love.

For the first time in a long time, Remus Lupin felt excited for the school holidays. The end of term could not come fast enough. After all, he had to discuss some notes shared in a book.

[movedto-erodasghosts]

silence

moved to @erodasghosts​

a spinoff fic for perennial by @peeterparkr. i highly recommend reading it :)

pairing: tom holland x reader / timothée chalamet x reader

need to know: this could be read alone but i highly suggest reading perennial! for background... tom and y/n were childhood enemies that ended up falling for one another over time, but tom ended up breaking things off. y/n met and dated timmy at a vulnerable time, and he seemed to be the perfect answer to her problems. emma is timmy’s friend, y/n’s too. rome is where tom truly broke y/n’s heart for the first time, and that is what led to her ending up with timmy. timmy had proposed to y/n, but she wasn’t sure about where her feelings were. y/n wrote a script about it all, talking about the heartbreak she experienced through it, which led to the second huge downfall in their relationship and so she ran to LA to give tom space... i think that is all? and that’s what you missed on glee :)

description: tom broke y/n’s heart, again, and timothée wants to be there to help her

warning/s: none

word count: ~6.2k

a/n: a huge thanks to nancy for letting me write this and for helping me so much to write it! also i am bad at fic titles so :)

check out my other fic based off of perennial/perfidy 

masterlist

not my gif

It was hard to tell what was worse, the pain of knowing she had broken his heart or the burning she still felt rising from beneath her scars that he had left on her after Rome. She wasn’t quite sure why she still felt this need to blame herself, as if there was only one person to blame, but it was easier to accept it was all her fault. 

Y/n’s job at the flower shop was meant to help distract her, to give her something to focus on other than what had happened with Tom. In reality, she had just zoned out for the most part, absentmindedly piecing together bouquets together. In an attempt to actually distract herself she decided she would learn the meanings of the different flowers, though she wasn’t sure how well it was sticking.

She carefully rearranged the flowers in front of her, listening as Timothée spoke on. How long had she been working on that same bouquet? Seemed like seconds, but at the same time hours. Getting lost in her own thoughts and paying little to no attention to the things around her seemed to become easier and easier for her to do. She was still processing the things she had said to Tom, and the things that he said in return, so not much else appeared to matter.

Going to LA had been the perfect opportunity for her to get away, she needed to give him space. A part of her couldn’t help but wonder if it was the right choice. Emma would of course catch her in these moments, soon after taking her to try some new distraction. Undoubtedly, nothing was working as a real distraction, though. Actively avoiding thinking about the situation only made her think about it more. Facing it head on wasn’t really possible, as there was no way Tom would be reaching out to her, or that she would be reaching out for him again. She had no other choice, it seemed, than to sit in her pain and accept the truth of her actions.

“Y/n?” Tim tapped her shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Her eyes refocused as she finished the flower arrangement and pulled herself out of her thoughts, “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

Tim smiled weakly, trying to offer even the smallest bits of sympathy. He glanced at her bouquet,   “I was just wondering if you wanted to go to that old ice cream stand after your shift ends?”

“That’d be great!” Emma chimed in, “Y/n, you can leave early and I’ll take over.”

“Oh, I--

“You’re going,” Emma said sternly as she raised a brow. “It’s close by, and you’ve hardly been anywhere other than the apartment and shop for days.”

Maybe that was true, but y/n didn’t want to think about it, not really. Emma was doing what she could to give different forms of distraction, hoping something might stick. They were both healing from a pain, and Emma had decided to run from her own. She wouldn’t force y/n into some form of coping that she didn’t want to try, but she was doing what worked for her, even as she was becoming less and less sure of just how effective it was.

“Emma, come on.” Tim leaned against the counter, “She doesn’t have to go.”

“She needs to,” she took a hold of y/n’s shoulders, leading her to the other side of the counter and grabbing Tim along her way. “It’ll be quick, it’s blazing hot out today and I expect the two of you to bring me back pasta from that one dinner.”

“Anything else, your majesty?” Y/n joked, a playful smile growing on her lips. She figured it was hopeless to fight Emma on whether she should go or not.

“Yes, actually. If you’re going to end up going on one of your…” Emma wiggled her fingers at the pair, “Tim and y/n walks, don’t bother with the pasta. It’ll just be… gross.” Her nose scrunched at the thought.

Tim chuckled, “Tim and y/n walks?”

“You know, where you get side tracked by some perfectly placed distraction, end up taking a long walk and talking about life and all of it’s drama and woes. Suddenly, the rain begins to fall!” Emma dramatically trickled her fingers down like rain. “Oh, but there is something else distracting you, and it’s worth getting caught in the rain. All of this, and not to mention you haven’t even made it to your initial destination.”

“Okay, okay. I think we get the point.” Tim pushed Emma’s hands down, “No need for the theatrics.”

“Ironic coming from you, hmm?” Emma grinned.

“You’re right!” Y/n interrupted them, gaining both of their attention. “I could use a quick trip like that. Maybe it’ll pull me out of this...” she sighed, “maybe it’ll be the perfect distraction.

Neither Tim nor Emma really bought it, they both knew distractions didn’t work for y/n, no matter how much Emma wished they would. But they would take what they could at that point, unsure of what else they could really try.

“Thank you,” Emma took her place behind the counter. “I’ll see you two later, then.”

She had been right, y/n did need to get out and do something other than work, even if it was something so small as a walk for ice cream. She was doing herself no favors sitting around and thinking on and on about what could’ve been, or even what was. Her regrets would stick with her no matter what she did, though.

Emma’s distractions could only do so much, and their effects would only last for so long. Y/n wasn’t sure that she could just forget what had happened, and she was less sure that she had even wanted to forget. It was what Emma had claimed to be the best solution, to just let it go and move on like you weren’t coming out of a life changing relationship, if that’s what it could be called. But nothing about forgetting seemed easier than living with the pain. Where would one even start with forgetting, y/n had wondered.

She could start with forgetting his touch and how the butterflies in her stomach would flutter every time he reached out for her. Or, maybe it would be easier to forget the way she would catch him gazing over with a philomathic look in his eyes, as if he couldn’t take enough of her in. She could forget about the late nights, hidden away from everyone else, just the two of them as they fell further back into one another’s arms, getting much too comfortable it seemed. Maybe, though, it would be easiest to start with forgetting all the damage she had done to him. 

To let go of her guilt she would have to let go of all the things that reminded her of the love in their relationships, and to let go of all of the gentle, loving memories she would have to let go of her guilt. 

Holding onto the pieces that were good only caused her to feel a stronger guilt, as if she didn’t have the right to hold on anymore. She knew what it felt like to be broken by someone that you put so much of yourself into, she still remembered when Tom had actually been the one to break her heart. That’s what Emma couldn’t understand about the guilt she had been feeling. Why would she feel any guilt when Tom broke her first, and one would argue that he had with more intention.

Still, y/n felt this endless stinging pain telling her it was all her fault striking her every night since she left for LA. Had she not said the things she did about him this issue would be nonexistent. She felt what she said, though, every bit of it. Tom broke her. He had been the one to leave her feeling like a fool, as if he could ever love someone like her. Tom had given her false hope time and time again that he would give her the love she dreamed of with him. And, despite it all, she had still said that he was the one. The one that she would always end up falling back to. The one that she would always love, over herself it even seemed.

And he had given her the chance to live her dreams with him again. The chance to love him, the chance to let herself become comfortable around him, the chance to fall in love again. And they had fallen in love, Tom seemed to let it stick this time around too. Then she said what she felt about him before. She brought up her feelings of betrayal and distrust, and he took them out of context and ran with the idea that she still pictured him as this monster that simply shattered her heart. But she didn’t explain herself, and how could she? They were all things that she had thought of him before.

But he proved it all to be wrong, and she had said that too. She said that he showed her love in a light she never imagined she would experience first hand, and that he had made her find love in things that she always found easier to cover with shame. He made her a better person, above everything else. Above the pain he had inflicted, he had been much more loving in his ways now. And she took that from him. She reminded him of who he had been, and pointed out pain he never even knew he had caused. She made him second guess himself, just as he had done to her before.

She couldn’t let go of the memories of how he made her feel loved. She had to use them to remind herself that she took that love away from him, that she was finally in the place she always wished to be in with him and she took it away from herself. They were no longer memories of peace and security, they were memories used to inflict pain while reminding herself of what she had done.

It was more than she didn’t want to forget. It was that she couldn’t forget, she would never allow herself to.

So, Emma’s distractions weren’t of use to y/n, it wasn’t what she was looking for. She was looking for all the reasons she could find to aim the blame on herself. She would sit and think of all of their memories together, connecting them with some reason as to why that was just another piece of how she led to breaking his heart.

She wondered, too, if she possibly hurt him more by going to LA. She was curious if he missed her in the way she missed him when her heart was broken by him. Did he stay up late into the nights, wondering when she might call? Waiting for her to return and pick up his broken pieces? 

No, probably not. He wasn’t such a fool as she was. She had shattered his heart, he probably was doing all he could to forget she even existed, something similar to the way that Emma coped. But if he loved her, how would he forget her? The only thing that made y/n come to terms, at the very least, with the pain he caused her was meeting Timothée.

Tim gave her all the tools she needed to mend her heart when Tom had done his damage. He walked into her life at the right time, and he swore to never walk out. He offered her security, comfort. He fixed her broken heart, showed her how to love herself and others again. 

Y/n feared Tom might find someone like Tim, someone to fix his shattered heart. It wouldn’t be bad, not really. In a way, she wished he might find someone like Timothée that could help him after what she had done, but at the same time she wanted him to confide in her. She wanted to offer Tom a solution to fix himself, she now had all the knowledge on how to do it from personal experience, she could share the information with him. 

Instead, she gave him space, plenty of it. She went to LA to leave him be, feeling she had caused more than enough problems. And she had to learn how to love herself again, how to allow herself to feel deserving of it after doing something so cruel. And there Timothée was, offering his advice and care once again.

“Really, if you don’t want to go we can just go to the apartment,” Tim offered, holding the shop door open for her as they exited.

She shook her head, “No, I could use this.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “then off we go.”

He awkwardly stuffed his hands into his pockets as they made their way to the ice cream stand. Emma had known that y/n didn’t heal in the same way, and that she would rather sit in her feelings for some time, allowing everything to soak in, but Emma saw the way that she had also gotten to a point where she was no longer doing in a way to heal, but she was coming from a place of guilt. Tim saw it too, and he had come to an agreement with Emma that they needed to step in and to do what they could to help her.

No, Emma didn’t heal in the way that y/n did, but Tim would know how to help her. Emma saw the risk in this too, though. She knew that if Tim wasn’t careful he could easily over step, and it was something she worried could happen. She had warned him not to expect anything from y/n, and to not just cause her more pain, but this was a risk she had to take because no one knew y/n in the way that Tim did, not to Emma’s knowledge.

“So, what was that bouquet you were putting together?” Tim spoke, raising a brow out of curiosity. 

“Umm... “ she paused to think. “I’m not completely sure, I’m still learning. I guess I was just putting together what worked, you know?”

He figured there was more to it than that though, she had seemed to be doing a lot of her speaking through flowers for the past few days. “I think I recognized Queen Anne’s lace? Forget-me-nots were in there, they can be…” he paused to think, “remembrance, right?”

“They can, yeah.” Y/n’s lips pressed together as she mumbled, “I think I could use a break from flowers,” she rubbed her palms together, “How’ve you been? I mean, I know we… kind of are living together and all, but… how are you?”

She hadn’t seen much of Tim or Emma, not really. They shared an apartment and passed one another daily but y/n had been so shut off that she couldn’t recall the last conversation she had with either of them. Another thing she would have to scold herself for. Emma and Tim didn’t mind, they took no offense, they knew she needed time, but she couldn’t help but feel guilt for not keeping up with them.

“I, umm…” Tim cleared his throat, “I’m doing good. You know, I think we all really needed LA.” I mean, we haven’t been here long, but I think it’s been good. I’m glad to be spending time with you again.”

She hadn’t thought about it much before, too wrapped up in her worries about Tom, but it had been a long time since she had spent time around Tim. And she had missed it, though she didn’t realize just how much she had. 

Things with Tim were always so simple. He always had the right answers and the perfect words to say. There was this resting guilt she felt with him too, because he was so perfectly kind to her. He offered her all that he could, even now. She couldn’t understand why he was still there, why he would miss spending time with her, she must’ve shattered his heart as well. 

It was beyond that with Tim, really. He had fixed her. He had cared for her when Tom decided he wouldn’t anymore. Tim helped her to become herself again, he introduced her to what a loving relationship meant. He gave her an example of what a boyfriend that only wanted their partner to be happy and well was like when Tom had broken all the expectations she had. And he had loved her, deeply. 

It wasn’t clear to her why she couldn’t love him in the way that he loved her, she wished she had the answer. He was everything she needed, everything that one could ask for, and he had come into her life at just the right time, every single time. So she wasn’t sure why she left him, or why she had declined his proposal, and that frustrated her more. Timothée was the perfect partner, the easy answer. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t be with him.

He deserved better too, at least that’s what y/n believed. He deserved someone that would love him the same way that he would love them. Someone that wasn’t broken, or that hadn’t broken others before. Someone that didn’t depend so heavily on him to fix them only to be given nothing in return. 

Tim didn’t want anything in return from her though, he only ever asked to have her love. And he said that he would wait, that he would give her the time and space to think of what she needed and what she really wanted. That’s how she ended up with Tom again, only to break his heart. It felt so childish to her that she bounced back and forth between the two, and she felt that she was dreadful for dragging the both of them into a time where she felt so indecisive. They both deserved better, though Tim might say Tom deserved much less than she offered him and Tom would say the same about him. 

“You know, I…” Tim began, “I know that you’re going through a lot right now.” Emma wouldn’t want him to bring it up, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I’m sorry about how things went with him, truly.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she raised a hand to stop him. “Really, it’s fine.”

“No, but, I know you,” he smiled weakly. “You’ve been so quiet lately, and you’ve kept yourself in your room. I just…” He stopped walking, resting his hand on her shoulder to stop her too. “It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

She didn’t. It had all been her fault, he was only trying to make it easier for her but she had to acknowledge the truth. Or, her version of the truth. 

“But it is, Tim.” She fiddled with one of her rings, doing what she could to avoid looking at him. 

“No, y/n, it’s not. You didn’t want things to go that way, there was no way you could’ve known.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not my fault,” she muttered. “I mean, I finally was happy with him and then I had to—“

“Go and say how he made you feel?” He sighed, “Y/n, he… you said that he broke you, that…” he glanced, moving his hand back into his pocket. “You told me that he made you question if you were worth loving. He made you question the trust you put into other people, and he made you second guess yourself with everything. And I’m not… I’m not trying to attack him or to argue him versus me,” Emma would disagree. “But you said he broke you, and all you did was say how he made you feel. If he can’t handle that, maybe he never should’ve done it.”

Tim was frustrated too, and not just because she had, for whatever reason, fallen for Tom. It was more than that. He felt that it wasn’t fair that she would blame yourself for such a thing when Tom had truly broken her heart. Tom made her change who she was. She had to learn a new routine, to figure out how to love herself again, to allow herself to let others care for her. To Timothée, Tom was simply now paying the consequences of his actions. Why would anyone ever feel guilt over such a person? 

“But I didn’t have to say those things…” her voice was weak, tired. “I didn’t have to say that he… that he ruined me. I mean, he showed me so much too, you know? He really… he made me feel loved too.”

“When? Before or after he broke your heart?” Tim questioned, “Oh, and was it before the first time he broke your heart, or the second time? I mean, he’s been horrible to you, y/n.” He rolled his eyes, irritated by the idea of forgiving Tom. “And, I mean… I thought you were like childhood enemies, right? He, c’mon, he always picked on you growing up, isn’t that what you said?”

He had. They had known each other all their lives, and for a majority of their time together they had only fought back and forth. And it was always about the smallest of things. He’d tell her the color of her dress looked horrible on her, or that her hair was a complete mess right before she was going for an interview. And she’d do just the same back to him, usually picking at him for his motormouth or inability to mind his business. But it was never ending, just the two eating away at each other nonstop. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I… it’s not my place to say anything about him really. I’m just trying to understand why you’re letting him take more of your time, especially when he couldn’t even be bothered to hear you out about your own feelings. He took what small information made him the victim and he ran with that.” He could feel the frustration rising again. “You wrote out how he made you feel, how he ruined you and turned your life upside down, and he has the nerve to act like he isn’t at fault here?”

Tom hadn’t finished reading everything she had written about him, only the most dreadful of words. Of course he was upset, having only read a portion of it. What Tim couldn’t understand is how Tom felt he had the right to be angry at y/n when he had read how Tom made her feel. Why did he think he could mad when seeing what damage he had caused her? How was that fair? And how was it fair that even after all of that damage, y/n still loved Tom, not that he would know because he had refused to read that far in. 

“Why would he want to keep reading after what I said about him?” She pulled her arms closer against her chest. “If someone told you that you ruined them would you want to hear them out?”

He wasn’t sure how to respond. It was easy for him to say that he would hear her out, because that is what he truly felt he would do. But he wasn’t Tom, and Tim was more level headed than most people, always doing what he could to collect all the information possible. 

Tim struggled with the entire situation because he couldn’t see what she saw, and he wanted to avoid the idea that Tom could be forgiven. Why forgive Tom at all when he wasn’t going to even try putting anything into the relationship? He so easily walked away, and once again there Timmy was to help her, not that she had even asked. 

It wasn’t that Tim wanted to always have this fight of who was better, him or Tom, but he failed to see how overlooked his actions were. He offered her support, reassurance. He helped her pick herself up again, and he helped her remember that she was worth love. He only ever wanted her to be happy, and Tom seemed to always have a complete negative effect on her. She always walked away from Tom with tears in her eyes, searching for reasons as to why it was her fault when it wasn’t so simple. Had Tom been able to make her smile, and to make that smile last, Timmy wouldn’t mind so much, because at least then he would know she was happy.

“But why Tom? What has he done for you?” Tim turned his body to face her’s, shaking his head in disbelief. “He’s proven that all he does is hurt you, time and time again, and yet you still feel this guilt? I just… why?”

“Because I… I can’t just forget about him. And maybe I should hate him, I know you think I should, but I can’t.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, moving to sit on a bench along the sidewalk. “I know he wasn’t always… kind to me, but I wasn’t to him either. And he did, he did show me this…” her breathing began to calm, “he showed me that I was worth something. He finally opened himself up to me, we finally could let our guards down. And it, for once, at least sometimes, it was like I didn’t have to fight for his attention, like it was just me and him.”

Timmy couldn’t picture Tom ever being capable of making her feel that way, he seemed too obsessed with himself and with this “competition” the pair had going on. He also couldn’t see why y/n would even want or care to have Tom’s attention in such a way, what did it matter when he was always so cruel? It wasn’t for him to understand, that’s what he had to say to himself. And one can’t exactly control their feelings and who they are directed towards, that was something Tim was getting to know too well. 

“I know that Emma thinks I should just forget Tom, and that you wish I could just let him go, but what if it’s just not that easy?” She looked to him, searching for yet another answer she knew she wouldn’t find. 

He stepped beside her, taking a seat too. “It’s not that easy, I know.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hands folding together as he thought. “I know you don’t need me to point out all the things he did to you, but it…” he chuckled quietly… “it really sucks to watch you be in so much pain over a guy that-“ he stopped himself. “I hate to see you hurting.”

She knew Tim meant well, he only ever wanted what was best for her. She was well aware, too, that Tim didn’t have the full story of her relationship with Tom, it was something she wasn’t even sure she knew the whole story of. 

Her mind had been malicious before, and a part of her knew that it was being overly judgmental in this case, but she refused to let the issue be chalked up to nothing more than cruel intentions from her childhood enemy. She felt at fault this time, as she couldn’t always simply blame Tom. To her, it was that she was now taking accountability for all of the damage she had caused him too. She had faced how he hurt her, and how it was something they both worked past, but now it was about what she had done to him. This was something, she figured, Tim could never understand. 

“I appreciate that you want to be here for me, Emma too, but…” her hand rested on his arm, “I think this isn’t something you can help me come over. I need to work myself through it.”

She could always do with Tim’s advice, but she was getting tired of it when it came to Tom. It was the same thing over and over, about how none of it was her fault and about how Tom was disregarding her completely. Tim didn’t know everything, and he didn’t understand Tom in the way that y/n did. He didn’t have advice to offer that y/n needed, or wanted, to hear in the moment, and that was something he was becoming more and more aware of.

His gazed stayed forward, hand reaching back to rest on top of hers. “Okay, yeah. I get it, you need some more space?”

In a way she did need space, knowing no one really understood what she was going through. No one would see how the blame was on her, no one but Tom maybe. Everyone else wanted to paint Tom as the villain, and why wouldn’t they after everything she had said? No one knew about the butterflies, his philomathic gaze, or even the late nights spent in one another’s arms. No, people had only ever seen them at their worst. 

Yes, she needed space, but she also needed a reminder that she was more than a screw up. More than the girl that walked in, destroyed a person’s life, and walked out. And she was more than that, much much more, but it was easier to convince herself that she was the problem. 

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. 

Tim wasn’t sure what other response he expected to hear, but it was so unsatisfactory to hear her confirm her own confliction. She didn’t want to be alone, but it’s what she felt she deserved. 

“I…” she thought, “I want you to be here, but I need to… I need this to be only my problem.” She pulled her hand away, locking her fingers together. “I don’t want you or Emma to worry about how I’m handling it, I have it under control.”

He didn’t believe that it was true, if anything she seemed to have no control at the moment. He wasn’t going to say that to her, and he thought she really could have a better handle on it than what it seemed. But he was growing tired of fighting her about Tom, about whether he was or wasn’t worth it. 

“Okay, I… if that’s what you need, I’ll do my best to do that for you.” He looked back at her, “I’m here for you, so whatever you need me to do… of course.” 

Tim knew he shouldn’t have said anything from the start, Emma had warned him against it, but to hear y/n tell him that she simply wanted left in her thoughts was a shock for him. A part of him was expecting her to need him, or at least someone, to talk to about it all, but she was asking to be left alone.

Her thoughts had been too complicated for her to explain to others, she wasn’t sure where they had ended and began anymore. It was a constant loop of searching for answers to problems she knew likely only existed in her head.

Even after Rome, after Tom had taken her heart and torn it to shreds, she couldn’t completely blame him. There was always something, even if it was the most minor of details, that she would make connect back to her to explain why she led to the downfall of it all. She knew Tom played a role too, of course, but he wasn’t her number one enemy. He had called her names, mocked her as she did nothing more than exist, and he had allowed her to make herself vulnerable, but she had decided to open herself up to him. 

Y/n wasn’t to completely the one to blame either, and no matter how many times everyone around her would repeat that to her, she couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to. 

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I do appreciate you trying to help.”

And she did appreciate it, it wasn’t a lie. It was nice to know that he still cared, and Emma too, especially when she had been feeling that everyone was currently against her. She didn’t understand why Tim still stayed, after everything she had put him through, but she was happy to always have him. She felt guilt, though, as if she was holding him back.

“Of course. I just want what’s best for you,” he spoke softly. 

What was expected of Timothée in this time where he was forced to watch someone he loved continuously eat away at themselves? He watched as she blamed herself, thinking of every counter argument he could that would prove her innocence, though it wasn’t something that should’ve needed to be proven. He wanted to speak up, to assure her it wasn’t all on her. He wanted to be there for her, and to remind her that she wasn’t to blame. But that wasn’t what she wanted from him, all she wanted was space? She had expected Tim to let her continue blaming beating herself further down, something he did his best to help her work against.

This time around she wasn’t asking for Tim’s help, and had actually asked him to take a step back and give her space. And he would gladly do so, as he had told her, because he didn’t want to upset her or hurt her more than she already had been. He knew that she’d likely just let her feelings fester, she already had been for weeks, but she still had to cope with her feelings in her own way.

He knew she would rather sit in her room, hugging her stuffed frog and listening to music full blast as she cried through all of her pain, but she wasn’t even doing that at the time, she just sat in silence as she judged herself over and over. And he had been wondering what her could do for her, if not be her shoulder to cry on again. Neither Tim nor Emma had much to offer her at the time, and that was something that Emma could accept more easily. But Emma’s relationship with y/n hadn’t began with her helping y/n learn how to nurture herself again.

She said what she wanted now though, so he didn’t feel so lost. She wanted space, and as shocking as it was to him, he would give that to her. She needed to heal again, and maybe now she had all of the tools to do so, or maybe she just didn’t want assistance. Whatever the reason, Tim had decided to still do his best to show her he was still there, that he would always have a helping hand to offer her.  

“So,” Tim stood again, doing what he could to just let it go, “let’s go get that ice cream?”

Tim could easily deliver on her request, all she needed was space. Y/n had liked how smoothly Tim was able to just move along. He didn’t hang on his emotions or drag things out to but much more dramatic and theatrical than necessary. He was straight to the point, and he had always been more direct when expressing himself. He had been so different than Tom in that way.

She always had to guess Tom’s mood, and she had always questioned what his feelings for her really were. He had talked to her about how he had liked her for years, which she found nearly impossible to believe because of how they had always treated one another. But was suddenly so sincere when telling her how he cared for her, and that was what made her soften herself around him more. 

Y/n also had hidden her feelings for Tom for a long time, and she had began to wonder if they had both hidden for similar reasons. She was always afraid to be vulnerable around him because he would just respond to her with some snarky comment, but she had done just the same back. It was no surprise that they had feared letting the other know how they felt. Timothée could never understand how a relationship could be built on a foundation of fear.

Tom, somehow, was not a villain in this case, which Tim knew, as much as he hated it. Tom had been hurt, truly taken back by the way that y/n had described him in her script, and knowing that it was going to be so public. He deserved to be told how he hurt her, though. He needed to understand the trauma he had put her through, the trauma that Tim had to help her overcome. But Tom was no villain, that was too harsh a title to give to anyone Tim thought.

“Right, the ice cream.” She stood slowly, adding a small smile, “And we can’t forget Emma’s pasta.”

“No, of course we can’t,” he laughed. 

Emma’s pasta hadn’t been ruined by a “Tim and y/n walk” that time, as it turned into something much less enjoyable. It was a needed conversation, but still one they both likely would’ve preferred to avoid.

[carminite-wyrm]

A Kingsglaive Time Loop AU, Part 1

Nyx Ulric wakes up, the memories of a burning city, of betrayal and loss, fresh in his mind. It is not the first time that he wakes this way, and it won't be the last.

Or: Nyx has a very, very bad time.

Now with a Part 2!

Nyx gasped awake, the scent of ash and burning flesh, and the sound of war and ruin still fresh in his mind, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest. He lay there, eyes quickly taking stock of the room he was in, a room that was so familiar to his senses, a room that he could have sworn should have been reduced to so much broken rubble, like the rest of Insomnia. He could see the fading curtains, the walls that were slightly cracked, the photos of his family and friends. By all appearances, this was the same damn apartment he’d lived in for nearly the past decade, down to even that one corner where it would always leak when it rained. Off to the side, he could see his phone, the date and day clearly marked upon it. The day that the ceasefire, and the peace treaty, had been declared.

He slowly ran his fingers over the worn fabric beneath him, the soft texture slowly easing the rapid pace of his heartbeat. He finally managed to drag himself into a sitting position, and lifted his left arm into the thin strip of sunlight that managed to peek through the curtains. There was no sign of the magical scarring that had crawled up his arm like wildfire, when he had put on that damn ring. His arm moved freely, none of the pain he still remembered slowing him down.

With a groan, he stumbled to his feet, shaking his head as he tried to dispel the…dream, it had to have been a dream, one born from that crippling loss that had nearly seen him lose Libertus, alongside the other fellow brothers and sisters in the Kingsglaive. There was no way everything had been real, even if there were elements of reality to it, such as that damnable giant daemon that had nearly been the cause of Libertus’ death. Now that he thought about it, really thought about it, away from the panic and adrenaline of oh shit everything is going to hell and the King is dead and so was-

Yeah, there was no fucking way any of that was real. It had felt real, sure, but Nyx was pretty damn sure that rationally, there was no way the King would have deigned to give him of all people the all-powerful ancestral ring that held together the shield over the city, and much more to boot. After all, didn’t the King still have people like Marshal Leonis, who definitely had the proper skills and strengths to guard something as important as that? Not some random Glaive who was in the process of serving out yet another punishment for insubordination.

Feeling almost like he was a ghost in his own body, Nyx decided the logical thing to do was to find Libertus and Crowe, his two best friends. Not just because he wanted to make sure they were fine, of course, but also-

Oh, who was he kidding, the dream – and yes, it was absolutely a dream, Nyx affirmed to himself – had in fact rattled him enough that he wanted to hug those two for at least an hour.

As he stumbled out of his apartment, blinking at the sunlight above him, he tried to remember where he was meant to be going, where he would be able to find Libertus and Crowe at…around midday, now that he checked his phone. His phone buzzed then, from where he had haphazardly crammed it into his uniform pocket. Taking it out, he smiled slightly at the message, which turned out to be from Libertus, and handily reminded him that they were meeting up in one of the training grounds.

Nyx tucked the phone away, and decidedly pushed aside the little part of himself that quietly reminded him that this was exactly how things had played out, in the dream. He still had to hold himself back from desperately clinging to Crowe and Libertus like his life depended on it, when he finally met up with them, though he did still give them both a slightly calmer hug, to their surprise.

That dream was just a combination of recent trauma, his own over-active imagination, and also probably more trauma.

Right?

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

Thirty minutes later, he was watching the news report about the coming Peace Treaty with Niflheim, the other Kingsglaive around him murmuring in discontent. As Commander Drautos -and how could he be a traitor, how could any of them be traitors- debriefed them, Nyx found himself having to hide his hands in the pockets of his uniform, the phantom urge to reach out and just end the man keeping him on edge the whole time, to the point that he almost missed Crowe being called away for a separate assignment.

Two days after he had woken up from that terrible dream, he watched as Libertus stormed away, the death-glazed eyes of Crowe staring up at him from inside the bodybag.

And on the 16th of May, four days after that dream, everything fell apart.

Nyx screamed wordlessly as he watched King Regis die at Glauca’s hands, the scene identical to the one he had dreamt, as Lunafreya spoke words that almost fell on horror-deaf ears, that only registered because he could almost speak them word for word himself.

He stumbled as the King’s magic disappeared, only kept upright by the fact that he already knew, somehow, what it felt like to lose that connection, the steel-spark buzz of power fleeing from where it had lain within him.

He received Drautos’ call almost in a fugue, his words echoing those from his dream. And it was only the memory of that dream that meant that the bullet from that traitorous bastard Lazarus only went through his arm, instead of through his shoulder, though the shock of it still had him on the ground. He mouthed the words Lazarus spoke, as he gloated, as he was goaded by Lunafreya into putting on that ring.

Libertus ramming into Drautos- no, Glauca, with the car, nearly made Nyx laugh out loud, it was so ridiculously accurate it felt like it was scripted. And when he faced the old Kings of Lucis, in that otherworldly time, it was only the faintest sense that he needed to save Libertus and Lunafreya, no matter what, that stopped him from cackling hysterically in the face of those reticent ghosts.

Nyx died with burning scars tracing up his left arm, with the rising sun in his eyes and the ruins of a dead city behind him.

And then he gasped awake, the scent of ash and burning flesh, and the sound of war and ruin still fresh in his mind, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest.

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

All in all, Nyx thought it was perfectly justified that he missed the treaty announcement, and the subsequent debriefing, curled up in bed for the past hour as he realised, truly, that this wasn’t all just a horrible dream. That he was indeed reliving the same five days, the five days that would culminate in the fall of Insomnia, the deaths of almost everyone he’d cared for, and his own death at the very end of it all.

The ringing of his phone had eventually stopped, if only because he’d thrown it haphazardly off to another end of the room, and probably broken it in the process. With that in mind, he absently gave himself another twenty or so minutes before Libertus or Crowe, or both of them, broke into his room demanding if he was alright.

Oh shit, Crowe.

He dragged himself off his bed, and stumbled over to his sink, as the image of Crowe’s corpse rose unbidden at the thought. He stood there, hunched over the sink, as he desperately tried to bring some semblance of rational thought back.

He just. Needed to make sure Crowe wouldn’t go on that damned set-up of a mission, the one that would have Luche -that fucking traitorous bastard- killing her for- For what, exactly? Luche had only talked about what Niflheim had promised him and the other traitors, after he had revealed what he had done.

Alright, then. Nyx nodded to himself, taking a moment to wash away the acrid taste of bile. Crowe first, everything else can wait.

He had four days, or three, if he discounted this one, before Niflheim would attack during that farce of a treaty ceremony. Four days to figure out how to avert disaster.

Nyx briefly entertained the thought of just, grabbing Crowe and Libertus, and heading for literally anywhere other than Insomnia, before roughly brushing it aside. No, he had a second, well, third chance, somehow. A chance to make things better, to make it so that no one (except those who really, really deserved it) had to die, so that the Empire wouldn’t be able to run rampant with their magitek armies and tamed daemons. And what sort of hero would he be, if he just ran away from that chance?

A sharp knock on his door, and the sound of it being flung open, had him spinning around in surprise, stumbling back into the counter in barely-concealed panic, before he registered that 1) it wasn’t a magitek trooper or some other sort of attacker 2) it was Libertus and 3) Crowe wasn’t with him.

Somehow, he had forgotten that Libertus had his apartment’s spare key.

“Oh shit, Nyx!” Libertus crossed the room with surprising speed for someone on crutches, eyeing how Nyx was practically trying to meld with the countertop. “When you didn’t pick up the phone-“

Libertus broke off with a yelp as Nyx grabbed him, half in a hug, half so that he could drag him in closer.

“Lib. Where is Crowe?”

“She’s off at some confidential briefing with the Commander, Nyx, are you alright?” Libertus managed to extract himself from Nyx’s grasp, giving him a once-over with a critical gaze. “You look- you look like shit, Nyx. And you weren’t at training. Do I need to get you to a doctor?”

“N-no. I’m…fine.” Nyx slowly inhaled, then exhaled, before trying to make himself look a little less like he’d just had a breakdown for the past hour and then some. “I am definitely fine. But I need to see Crowe.”

“Nyx, I’m sure it can wait.” Libertus sighed, filling a glass with water and passing it to Nyx, gesturing for him to drink it. “Me and Crowe covered for you during the briefing you missed saying you came down with something, though Commander does want a confirm on that. Though, man, you actually look terrible.”

“Just…had a bad dream, that’s all.” Nyx admitted.

Libertus raised an eyebrow, before shaking his head.

“You know that you can tell us anything, right? Anything that’s troubling you.”

“I…”

Nyx considered telling Libertus everything. Telling him about Crowe’s death, about the Glaives turning traitor, of Commander Drautos being that hated General Glauca, of the city burning under an Imperial onslaught, of the Old Wall and the old Kings. Of how Nyx had died.

But would Libertus even believe him? Nyx barely could believe it himself, and he’d lived it. Twice.

Libertus was one of his best friends, his brother in all but blood. But even so, he was fairly certain that Lib was probably going to check him into a hospital, at least initially, and he couldn’t afford to spend time trying to assure him of his sanity when he only had four and a half days.

“I’m fine, Lib. Really. Just had a bad dream, about Galahd.” Nyx paused, before he added. “And that giant daemon.”

“Oh.”

“Now, please, I need to meet up with Crowe.”

“She should be out of that meeting by now, I told her to meet up with us here, after I checked on you.”

Almost as if on cue, Crowe burst into the unlocked room.

“Oh good, you’re alive.” Crowe said, looking at Nyx and Libertus. “Wow, you really do look out of it.”

“Crowe!” Nyx swept her up in a hug, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, Nyx. You good?” Crowe asked.

“You’re alive.” Nyx breathed, clutching her harder. “You’re alive.”

“I…am?” Crowe looked over at Libertus in confusion. Libertus shrugged, mouthing ‘Bad dream’ at her. Nyx instinctively lifted his middle finger at him, having caught the action even as he swallowed back his tears. “Look, Nyx, I’m fine, alright? Now, sit down, and let us catch you up to speed. Some shit’s gone down.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.” Nyx nodded, slowly moving to sit down. Libertus and Crowe both perched themselves nearby, Libertus taking the other seat, whilst Crowe leaned against the counter, wrinkling her nose at the mess in his sink.

“So…what’s happened?” Nyx asked, though he knew what it was they were going to tell him. But…well, he couldn’t just tell them how he knew that anyways, might as well give himself plausible deniability for some of his foreknowledge.

“Niflheim wants a peace treaty, at the cost of all other regions of Lucis besides Insomnia. And the King accepted it.” Libertus spat.

“There’s…not many in the Kingsglaive are happy about things at all. The general sentiment is that the King’s throwing away our homes.” Crowe continued. “On that note, the Commander’s given me a mission to recover the Princess Lunafreya from Tenebrae, I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.”

“No.”

Libertus and Crowe both turned to stare at Nyx, who was clutching the glass of water in his hands like a lifeline as he spoke.

“What-“

“You can’t. Crowe, please,” Nyx looked up at her, trying to convey the importance of his words, the desperation behind them. “Don’t go on that mission.”

“Nyx, I have to-“

“I don’t want to lose you, Crowe.” I don’t want to lose you again.

“Look, Nyx, you know I can handle myself.” Crowe patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t let some bad dream get you all worked up, what did you dream of, me dying?”

Nyx dropped the glass, sending shards scattering across his floor. Distantly, he heard Libertus cursing, and Crowe…saying something, something that he probably imagined was supposed to be soothing, but couldn’t hear over the rising static as he remembered Crowe’s death, Libertus’ fury, Luche’s smug shitty face, Drautos half covered in that cursed armour-

Eventually, things slowly came back into focus, and he blinked as he looked up at Crowe and Libertus’ slightly relieved expressions. His neck ached, and it was only then that he realised that somehow, he’d gone from sitting in one of the terrible bargain chairs he had in his flat, to being on the floor, back pressed to one of the walls.

“You back with us, hero?” Libertus asked softly.

“Y-yeah.” Nyx croaked out, tilting his neck back and forth for a bit in an attempt to ease the soreness. “Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. Guess I must’ve accidentally hit the nail right on its head, then.” Crowe said, crouching down and slowly extending her hand. “Now, let me help you up.”

Nyx nodded, getting his breathing under some semblance of control, and he briefly closed his eyes, waiting until he felt calm enough to actually move.

He let Crowe hoist him to his feet, and went in for another hug, this time getting both her and Libertus in it. They gradually relocated to sit on his bed, Nyx practically wrapped around his two siblings-in-all-but-blood.

“You died, Crowe. You died and there was nothing I could do to stop it.” Nyx sobbed; the words slightly garbled considering his face was mashed into Libertus’ shoulder. “A-and Libertus left, and then everything just, went to hell and then some, the city was attacked-“

He broke off, unable to put the rest of what he’d seen and lived into words.

“Look, hero, you know what I’m capable of, right?” Crowe said reassuringly, after a silent minute, slowly carding her fingers through his hair. “Whatever it was that your subconsciousness cooked up, it won’t happen, alright?”

“It-“ Nyx choked up, the words he desperately wanted to say lodged in his throat.

“I’ve called you in as sick, so the Commander won’t be all up our collective asses when you don’t show up for duty for the rest of the day.” Libertus said, patting Nyx on the shoulder. Nyx felt like he should be flinching from that, even though he knew that there wasn’t any kingly power burning its way through his body. Yet. “Come on, you should get some rest. Proper rest, after I get you something to eat. I’ll be here, though Crowe needs to go prepare for that mission of hers. We can see her off in the morning.”

The meal that Libertus cooked up an hour later tasted like ash in his mouth, and as Nyx was herded to bed, he couldn’t help but think that he had failed, once again. But he couldn’t go after Crowe, not now, not when Libertus was already keeping a cautious eye on him, not when all they knew was that he just had a panic attack, and a dream terrible enough to spark it.

And on top of all that, he had no idea what to do now, not when he knew that Libertus and Crowe probably wouldn’t believe him at this point, not when he’d made everything out to be just a bad dream. He’d had some sort of grand plan, to convince Crowe to not go on that mission, in the hope that it’d derail at least part of the Empire’s plan, derail it enough to give him time to figure out how the hell else he’d be putting a spanner into the rest of their planned invasion.

That plan, at least for now, was in utter shambles.

Now that he thought about it, actually thought about it, there were so many things that would eventually lead to the fall of Insomnia.

Crowe’s death, which would fracture the Kingsglaive even further than what the initial ceasefire announcement had done.

Lunafreya’s arrival, and subsequent kidnapping, which would be the bait that would draw the loyal Kingsglaive to their doom at the hands of the traitors, and signal the initial attack on Insomnia.

The theft of the Crystal and the fall of the Wall, which, he still didn’t know exactly how that had even happened.

The whole mess with the – rebels? Faction? – that Libertus had joined the other two times, the ones who had bombed the signing ceremony.

The death of King Regis, which would inevitably ruin much of their chances to stop the invasion, because it would mean that no one would have their borrowed magic anymore to help them against the forces of Niflheim.

How to deal with those giant daemon weapons withoutbringing forth the Old Wall, an act that would cause a decent amount of destruction in itself.

And General Glauca, that traitorous Commander of the Kingsglaive who was, Nyx admitted, quite possibly the greatest threat to everything he held dear at this point.

He could deal with rescuing the Princess, having done it twice already. Could probably even deal with the traitorous Glaives, hell, he knew at least Luche and Tredd were in on it, and if he took those two out then the others would lose a good part of their leadership.

But how in hell was he going deal with everything else? Nyx wondered, not a little desperate, as exhaustion finally set in, and he fell unwillingly into a fitful sleep.

He woke again, sometime in the evening, eyes tracing the cracks along his ceiling as he tried to parse his racing thoughts. There was just so much to do, so much he had to stop or fix before the Empire burned the city to the ground.

Well, he eventually thought, a little sardonically, I could always just knock Luche out now, and maybe he won’t kill Crowe tomorrow.

He sat bolt upright at that thought, and tried not to fall out of the damn bed in his haste. He fumbled blindly for his boots, and looked around for something heavy enough to give someone a bad concussion. The frying pan hanging on the rack above the shitty little stove, still a bit damp after Libertus had washed it, looked like it would do nicely.

He couldn’t kill Luche yet, even if every bit of him really wanted to do so. It’d probably de-rail things to the point that his foreknowledge would be rendered completely useless, and he hadn’t yet come up with ideas on how to deal with the next few days to make that murder as feasible as he wanted.

But he could just. Make sure that Luche wouldn’t be able to kill Crowe, or at least he’d be able to give Crowe a better chance at surviving the ambush, if he couldn’t convince her not to go in the morning.

Nodding to himself, he opened his door, preparing to march down the hallway and bait Luche into sticking his head out so he could bash it in with roughly three kilograms of steel. Fortunately, no one appeared to be outside of their own flats, though considering it was late in the evening by now, that was unsurprising.

He knew Luche had a habit of sleeping early if he had the opportunity to do so, so Nyx was fairly certain that if he knocked on the man’s door now, Luche shouldn’t be aware enough to register it was Nyx holding the frying pan before it hit him.

Sure enough, Luche opened his door with bleary eyes, and Nyx had a moment of vicious satisfaction watching the man crumple to the ground with a single hit of the pan. Now that Luche was unconscious, and not dead (there was a pulse, Nyx had checked), all that was left to do was shove him somewhere in his own apartment and hopefully have him out of commission for the next day at least.

“Uh, Nyx?”

Nyx looked up from where he was dragging the surprisingly heavy Luche the rest of the way into the apartment. Libertus was standing there, one crutch held limply in his hand.

“This…isn’t what it looks like, Lib.” Nyx winced, as Libertus looked incredulously at where Nyx was holding onto Luche’s limp arm.

“Is it?!” Libertus’ voice somehow reached another octave, as he cautiously approached Nyx.

“Look, this is going to sound incredibly crazy, but would you believe me if I told you that Luche is a traitor and he’s going to try to kill us all, except for the fact that I just knocked him unconscious.”

Libertus’ expression told him that no, Libertus didn’t believe him, and also that Nyx was…probably in some deep shit now.

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

Nyx awoke, for the fourth time, in his bed, in his flat, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest, clutching at where the piece of the collapsing hospital ceiling had stabbed right through him.

Well, he thought, somewhat hysterically, that could’ve gone better. Much better.

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

note from denise: To be added to the taglist please send an ask. Comments and dms will be unintentionally ignored/forgotten. Also if you have sent an ask to be on the taglist. I am not ignoring you I add people onto the taglist when I update a new chapter! <3 love youuu

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter six

Suna was completely in shock and he was overwhelmed. He just froze. What can a man do when his ex tells him he is a father, let alone the father of two toddlers.

He immediately thought about the trauma you must have faced, being pregnant and alone. He also thought about how much he’s missed already, he wasn’t there for their day of birth, their first steps, first words, he’s already missed so many birthdays.

All he ever wanted was to be a father, especially to be the father of the children he made with the woman he was in love with. Was it truly a blessing or a curse?

Surely you don’t want to get back together and live like a perfect family behind a white picket fence. He’d have to learn how to push his feelings aside for these kids and share custody of them somehow. Before he could even speak you were walking away and he quickly turned.

Why aren’t his legs moving? What’s pulling him back? Is he afraid of this responsibility and commitment? Of course he is. He doesn’t want to be a shitty dad, will he be able to raise them correctly? How if he’s always busy training and practicing. All his free time is dedicated to napping.

His heart truly broke the second time ever when he saw those grayish eyes looking back at him with such hurt and betrayal. They screamed that they needed him. He didn’t know how but he felt it. He decided that he was going to take a step and work things out with you. Maybe not romantically but he really wants to be in his kids life.

“After all this time and trouble I went through. You’re gonna let her walk away again?” Atsumu’s annoying voice filled the silent hallway. “Fucking bastard.” Suna seethed and turned with a glare. Osamu knew his brother fucked up and decided to be cautious in case Suna decided to land a few punches on his brother like the last time Atsumu has pissed off Suna.

But as Atsumu braced himself for a comeback or for a fist to meet his face he was met with Suna’s back as he ran to catch up with you. When Suna turned the corner he saw the staff parking lot and he began to run even faster.

If you leave it’ll be too late.

When he made it in the parking lot he stopped and used his height to his advantage and he looked around. He couldn’t see you anywhere. “Y/N!” He called outloud and his voice echoed. “Y/N!” He repeated. He was about to continue walking through when a car backed up and quickly breaked so that they wouldn’t run over the man. You looked through your mirror and saw Suna standing there and looking around like an idiot.

Your heart clenched yet you felt butterflies at the same time. He came, not for you but for the kids. You really hoped and prayed that he would come, and he did. You parked your car and you got out. He sighed in relief and neared you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I want to be in their lives I really do.” He exclaimed.

“It’s fine, Rin. I’m glad you want that.” You smiled softly.

For a moment he got lost in your eyes, and yours in his. It probably lasted less than a minute yet it felt like a eternity. Neither of you could turn away or say something else. It was comfortable and warm.

All of a sudden your phone rang and your finally blinked and turned away to answer your phone. “Did suna find you?” Jamie immediately asked. “Uh we were talking just now....” you said awkwardly and he stood awkwardly as well. “Ok good if not I was going to give him your number.” She sighed in relief and you rolled your eyes. “Alright I got to go, the kids have school in the morning.” You said and you both hung up.

“So I would love to stay and chat..ya know about the kids but they’re asleep already and they have school.” You mumbled. “No it’s fine I completely get it. School is important...are you available tomorrow? It’s off season for me so I don’t have any rough practices, only gym. I want to talk with you before meeting the kids.” He said and you nodded. “I’ll text you when to come over when I get home.” You told him and he nodded. You both exchanged numbers but Suna didn’t really seem that satisfied.

“Be safe. Text me when you guys get home safe.” He said and his eyes widened. “Okay, I will.” You smiled softly and he saw as you entered your car. You slowly pulled out and you drove away.

“Tsumu has her social media in case you’re curious.” Osamu spoke up causing Suna to jump. “What the hell dude, don’t just scare me like that.” He placed his hand over his chest and Osamu laughed.

“Come on, let’s go.” Osamu said and Suna nodded and walked away.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.” You muttered and slapped yourself as you drove. Your kids were already asleep so they couldn’t hear you having a mental breakdown on your way home. “Mommy you said a bad word.” Akira pointed out and you glanced at the mirror. “Sorry about that. Don’t repeat it okay?” You asked and she nodded. “I know I know.” She mumbled and look at her signed volleyball with a bored expression. “Is daddy going to be in our lives, now?” She asked and you sighed softly.

“Well we talked and it sounds like he wants to be there for you and nii-chan..he’s going to come over tomorrow while you’re at school so we can talk like adults. Then when you come home he’ll be there to hang out with you guys and you guys can get to know eachother.” You said hopefully.“I don’t like him. Why couldn’t Sakusa or Atsumu be our dad. Even that guy you were with earlier with the suit is fine. But dad is a jerk. He made you cry.” Rini huffed and your eyes widened, were they awake the whole time?

“Hey, I know you don’t know him but your shouldn’t disrespect your father like that. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have had you guys. You two are the best things that has ever happened to me. You’re a Suna, once you get to know your dad I know you’ll be proud that I put your last name as Suna not Kageyama.” You told him and he scowled.

“Can you tell us more about dad?” Akira asked and you nodded. “What do you wanna know?” You asked. “Why did you fall in love with him.” Rini immediately asked, “Well he was sweet and funny, he loved anime and we were in the same class. He also taught me how to love volleyball again after my grandpa died.” You said smoothly. “What position did he play? Did he go pro?” They asked. “He was a middle blocker and he was really good. He still is a middle blocker and yes he is pro.” You said and Rini gasped. He’s more of a middle blocker type of fan. And Akira prefers setters. Even when you or Tobio teach them volleyball. They choose those positions.

The whole drive they asked about him and you answered the best you could, you can’t tell them everything but they were satisfied and they had a better understanding. They did get upset with you for not telling Rin that he was a father since the beginning but they understood that he broke your heart and you didn’t really want to see him.

When you got home you texted Rin that you arrived. You quickly bathed your kids. Dressed them in their pajamas and read them a script from the new anime you’re going to be on. (They liked listening to the scripts rather than bedtime stories)

After reading three pages they were already knocked out and you gave them a kiss. You fixed Akira’s fox plush in her arms and made you way to Rini’s bed. He was hugging a green piggy with a crown from the angry birds game and the moon made his face glow. You stood there in shock and you imagined second year Rin sleeping like that with the pig plush with the crown that reminded him of you.

You quickly rubbed your eyes to see second year rin turn back into five year old Rini. “I need some wine.” You muttered and kissed his cheek and fixed his blanket. You took out the phone from your pocket as you made your way to the bathroom to take off your makeup and start your nightly routine.

You chuckled but quickly slapped your hand over your mouth. Why was it so easy to text Rin again after all this time. Isn’t it supposed to be awkward? Why are you so comfortable?

You quickly typed an awkward goodbye and he scratched his head confused but replied goodbye as well. He really wanted to continue talking to you more.

After you changed into your pajamas and finished your nighttime routine you made your way to the kitchen and you grabbed the half full wine bottle.

You held it to your chest as you made your way to your office/studio and began reading the script and answering some emails involving the character you’ll be portraying for the new anime. You celebrated a few weeks back when you got the offer and sighed thinking about this certain character.

You’ve read the manga already but it wouldn’t hurt to re read it to get a better feel of the characater right? You took a sip from the wine bottle as you found the first book of the manga. In your endless shelves of books.

“Alright Emma let’s go on an adventure.” You sighed and began to read The Promised Neverland.

Also don’t forget that I love you and you’re worth it <3 Idk who needed to hear this today :)

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