#its a cold and cruel world out there. we all need a silly guy to get by

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

idk why, but your art is the image my browser uses for tumblr, which means I get to look at it all the time~

Tumblr said “you need a silly little guy to wave at you” and boy howdy is that silly guy waving.

[acquired-elfroot]

The annoying thing is that reducing Solas to a dislikable two dimensional caricature in Veilguard didn't even come close to fixing the problem they set out to fix in doing so, and it was never going to.

I can’t pull up the exact quote, but I believe one of the writing team said something along the lines that they needed to make Solas less sympathetic because at the end of Trespasser too many people agreed with him and wanted to end the world. Which is why they chose to have him kill Varric, among other things. 

While I will say that I agree with the choice to have him kill Varric(I like the idea of him making Rook hallucinate him too, that could have been sweet if it had been well executed rather than a bland set up for a M. Night Shyamalan level twist) to raise the stakes and set Solas up as a serious antagonist for a new audience, or an audience that hadn’t been paying particularly close attention to him - but there is no way it could have ever suddenly made his goal to tear down the veil unsympathetic for those who found it to be so.

The writers seem to have been under the impression that members of the audience sympathised with Solas’ plan to tear down the veil not on its own merits, but for the draw of his sparkling personality alone. Not for well established lore related reasons, or for extra-narrative reasons rooted in a desire for emotional catharsis and narrative satisfaction (which a fictional body count has even less bearing on besides) but because he’s a sad pretty elf boi and we want to kiss it all better.

I’m going to be real with you, if they had surgically transplanted Ogrehn’s personality onto Solas and had him stone cold murder every other beloved character in the series, I would still want the  Veil to come down, or at the very least a better solution than leaving it just as it is. How likeable he is or isn’t has fuck all to do with it? 

Making Solas more dislikable does nothing to change the effect the Veil has on spirits and mages, it does nothing to address the question of the value of mortal lives weighted against immortal ones. It does not change the narrative role of a trickster in bringing enlivening chaos and upheaval to a stagnating world, in this case one that’s been forced to stagnate in service of the illusion of player choice; nor does it quiet our desire to see the rotten roots of Thedas’ corrupt institutions torn up and put to the torch ect. ect.

Most annoyingly, attempting to use Varric's death to accomplish this betrays the writer's assumption that players that did sympathise with Solas’ goals did so out of a naive misapprehension that he’s some sweet uwu softboy that could never do anything truly ruthless or cruel in order to accomplish his goals, and that once we had been disabused of that belief we would clutch our pearls in horror(you mean he’s willing to kill people? In a video game series with protagonists that each have kill counts numbering in the thousands? Quick, summon my fainting couch!) and tidily dismiss the notion that he might have ever had any worthwhile motivations at all. 

Look all you silly little girlies that want to kiss the fictional man, I feel like you don’t understand that he’s the *bad guy* here, glad we’ve cleared that up for you sweetheart. And isn’t he just sooo condescending?

It does not seem to have occurred to the writers that, to his fans, his stone cold ruthlessness is both one of the most well understood and deeply compelling features of the character.

I would happily give that writer a pass on a wicked case of foot in mouth, but the way Anaris & Cyran are written seems to very much enforce their the stance that an overabundance of sympathy for Solas as a person, as well as a desire to see him vindicated are the primary reasons any of the audience would ever agree with his goals. 

So to fix this issue, it stands to reason that the writers needed to de-emphasise everything that humanised(for lack of a better term) Solas and made him sympathetic as a person. Because apparently the problem is that their attempts to do so in the previous game worked a little too well on some people, right? 

As @mythalism pointed out, we cannot see him comfort his friends through their panic or grief or their crisis of faith, or have hushed philosophical conversations with them. We cannot see him flirt awkwardly, or try to pretend he didn’t just set his own coattails on fire.

We never see the god of liberation free so much as a wisp bound to a teaspoon.

And all of those compelling character motivations you thought he had about free will and self determination? Don’t worry kitten, we’ve sanitised all of the conflicts those might be applicable to right out of the setting anyway. Yay <3

At the same time, it feels like they’re too scared to upset the very same audience that they imagine has this woobified rose tinted view of the character, lest they scare them away. They’re too afraid of the audience to let him be truly unwaveringly ruthless, prejudiced, bitchy, vindictive, and even genuinely sadistic towards his enemies, because that might upset our fragile sensibilities too much! 

He can’t ever say anything mean to Rook - that might hurt our feelings!

He doesn’t really do anything bad, and if he does he doesn’t really mean it. He committed war crimes, but only because Mythal asked him nicely. He killed Varric, but it was an accident. He makes Rook hallucinate Varric, but he doesn’t use that to manipulate them; Varric just hangs out and vibes. He uses blood magic on you, but he doesn’t do any of the truly fucked up violating things that we know full well blood magic is capable of. He misleads you when he says “the Veil will not fall by my hand”, but it’s so transparent that it’s laughable. He’s never allowed the conviction to really follow through on any of his misdeeds, while still he’s bizarrely framed as outright villainous for them. 

So what we’re left with is a character divested of most of his admirable qualities, but with most of the rough edges filed off as well. Toothless. Boring.

It feels so much like they’re talking down to their audience? Like they don’t trust us to see a character with BOTH vices and virtues in spades come to our own conclusions about them? 

So we get this bland mealy-mouthed version of the character that we apparently need watered down further with ‘our team’s’ insipid commentary, much of which is blatantly based on bad takes people were spewing online almost a decade ago, and many of which have no bearing whatsoever on the actual story we’re being told because ohh my godd apparently we need to have our hands held while we’re walked though every opinion the audience might theoretically  have about the character and gently reassured by proxy that it’s a hashtag #valid opinion and why does this game insist on speaking to us like we’re morons??

For all that they incessantly bring up how condescending Solas is, I’m not sure if I've ever felt more spoken down to by a story I had been so invested in.

So Solas is boring now and I still l wanna tear down the veil lol

[andrastepls]

A/SMR.

synop: reader lost her hearing after an explosion, simon has an idea to help her ‘hear’ him again

warnings: none i think ? canon typical violence & loss of hearing maybe knda spicy

not proofread we die like men

Adjusting to life without sound had been a trial on its own. It was something no-one really prepared for — silly as it seemed, now. Bombs and guns going off right next to a person for any amount of time was bound to cause damage at one point or another. Or, maybe, she just had shit luck.

The blast had come and gone so quickly, she had no time to react. No one did. It missed anything vital, but it had sent her rocketing into a wall; promptly breaking her arm, a few ribs, and rupturing her eardrums all in one fell swoop. If nothing else, recovery went relatively smoothly. As smoothly as it could have, at any rate, what with Soap and Gaz being absolutely glued to the chairs in the infirmary. Even getting kicked out a few times — luckily, Price and the Lt. were a little less chaotic. Be it because the medic on-site had a soft spot, or because Simon had intimidated the poor guy, he had been allowed to spend the first two nights in the infirm with her.

Being tucked away in his arms did wonders for her anxiety, but the cot was a bit small for him alone, let alone the pair of them. Blessedly, she had been given the okay to return to her own quarters after that.

A few months later, and her bones were good and well healed, but her ears were another story. The specialist kind. The off-duty kind. The waitlist was long, and going home, alone, in the quiet, sounded like her own personal hell. So, she stayed on base to wait it out.

The silence was her enemy, deafening in its lack of any and everything. She swore she could forget the music the world made in a moment without it. It was cold, void and lonely. Missing out on jokes, not ever hearing the booming shouts and laughter of the boys. Sounds she never thought she’d miss.

It didn’t go unnoticed. For all his grumbling and brooding, Ghost was terribly good at being good company. She was thankful for him, at least. Perhaps now more than ever. He was . . . oddly tentative of her. Making a point to brush a hand against her when he was near, what was previously a hovering palm near her back was now an open-handed reminder someone was there.

He made learning to sign feel so much easier. Subbing out some signs for military signals. A natural transition, when the other person knew how to speak it — even when he didn’t need to.

It was a kindness done solely for her benefit; a fact in which he would never admit, but she knew it to be true nevertheless.

• • •

She felt out of practice. Clumsy and uncertain of herself when he touched her, nothing like herself, and he noticed. He pulls back from her, hands curving through the space between their chests to say, “You okay?”

She swallows, looking away. Embarrassment flushes her cheeks a shade of maroon, the heat of it crawling up her neck.

“It’s not you.” she signs back after a beat, eyes finding his with nothing short of pleading in her irises, “I miss you. But the sound - ”

Lithe hands flop into her lap. She feels . . . inadequate. Incomplete. Hateful, to herself, knowing that she can’t be who he loved first anymore, “I miss hearing you.” it was a cruel thing for the universe to do to her; give her a man to fall in love with, a voice that lulled her to sleep, filled her heart, tightened her legs — and then take it away from her. Leaving her in this muffled prison.

He makes a face at that - not one of ill intent or anything of the sort - rather, one of confusion. She missed hearing him?

He never thought his voice to be something worth missing; though, he quickly understands when his mind wonders what never hearing her again would be like. His girl is quieter now, to be sure. But he can still hear her - the little noises she makes, when she hums to herself without noticing . . . among other noises . . .

There’s a moment where he stays still, only his eyes moving between the two. She’s about to lift her hands so say something else, but he promptly cuts her off by taking one of her wrists between his fingers. Encouraging her to open her hand and bringing her palm up to rest around his throat.

She pauses, wide eyes blinking between their hands and his face — that frustrating little smirk of his curling his lips upward at the corners. She can’t make sense of what he’s doing at first, canting her head to the side like a confused dog, and then, he hums. The sound vibrating against her fingers. Her jaws drops open slightly in shock, eyes locked between her hand and his mouth, wanting to say ‘again’.

Alas, he was a step ahead of her, and mumbles out her name in a breath. Feeling her name in his throat before reading it on his lips.

Hm.

A/N: i dont know its 1am !!

[tysonfurybattlepass]

Who are your five favorite OCs and you're not allowed to cheat and say "I love them all" you gotta pick FIVE

(And explain why you love them most <3 )

OH NO ok not in any particular order buuuut

tyson- he’s me :) he’s my special guy. he’s so so so handsome and everyone thinks so but he’s also young and silly and just likes to Hang Out and sleep 18h a day. i love xenosmilus as an animal and i’m really proud of how beautiful i made tyson’s markings :) best sona i would win in a furry competition

kali- ouuughaghghh. huge big beatiful awesome gigantic animal. emissary of the deep ocean’s unknowable whims. she will be here for decades (centuries!) after we die, living her life alone in the cold and the dark and the bleak. we are so unfathomably frightened by the very idea of the ocean’s maw, but kali goes grocery shopping there. cruel and fearsome things prowl the deep, and this is one of them. she is enlightened, brilliant even, but she is an animal at its purest and most breathtaking. it knows what pain is. it knows what empathy is. she does not care any more than the raging polar winds do. survival is triumph. to eat is to be holy.

deinostygias- technically a fan character but i wuv him. flowey if he was a stupid jock. imagine being born with the memories of some other guy who had family issues and a soul but you don’t have either of those now and also that guy died 50,000 years ago and his entire species is extinct. and also you listen to linkin park and only do bench press and bicep curls (the cringe muscles) at the gym

leo- also a fan character but i love the trope of a damaged teenage girl being so fuckoff powerful and full of rage. she’s determined she’s dedicated she’s trapped she’s lost she’s a god she’s afraid she’s a star she’s a child. she is the end of the world she is the skyfall she needs someone to hold her hand and tell her it wasn’t her fault. she deserves to cause so many problems and be so toxic it’s all part of the process of becoming whole again.

lisaph- long baby <3 long noodle cat babygirl. she is so insane and deranged and not because she has Issues or anything she’s genuinely just a lunatic party girl. she planet hops specifically to find the best clubs in the galaxy. she is removed from her heritage but she is reconnecting. she loves the traditional parts of herself and she loves the new age parts of herself even if sometimes it’s confusing. i need to smoke a blunt w this bitch. she takes ambien before driving to work and crashes her lambo into a tree and takes a nap on the side of the road. her Creature shape and beautiful fur patterns have bewitched me

[crimeboys]

🤩 I wanna hear chommhyy

[from document titled “tea”]

Phil hardly notices Tommy for a moment, patting his pockets and muttering something about Gapples, but he lifts his head just enough to take sight of Tommy. There’s a bit of shock, then a smile as warm as the hearth in Technoblade’s cabin. Phil was always good with smiles, even if sometimes they were laid with gunpowder. Tommy almost finds comfort in that, though. Wilbur’s are too.

Before Phil can get a word in, Tommy begins a tirade of, “Phil, I am so fucking cold. Why do you live in a tundra? To spite me? Because you hate war veterans? Or just orphans? What else do you hate, you heartless prick?”

Phil’s smile becomes just a bit weary. “You here to visit?”

“Maybe,” he answers with a shrug. He still sort of wants to run. To curb that impulse, Tommy replaces it with another. He pushes past Phil, letting himself into the little cabin. He can’t run away from Phil. Not when Phil’s the only fucker in the world who can answer the question Tommy hardly wants to ask but desperately needs to know the answer to. Did Wilbur trick me again?

As Tommy sifts through Phil’s chests, he ignores Phil’s squawk of indignance to ask, “You got bread?” He looks back and Phil has his hands on his hips and is leveling Tommy with that annoying mad dad stare Tommy got more than e-fucking-nough of from Wilbur during L’manburg. Just on the silly side of desperate, Tommy exclaims, “I’m starving, Phil, practically dead already! Walking corpse shambling into your home, begging for a measly piece of bread.” There’s even some truth to it… It’s mostly truth, actually, now that he takes a look at his inventory. He’s got no food, three hearts, and about five bars of hunger. With a nervous laugh, he says, “Maybe even toss half a stack my way, hm? Old pals and all.”

Phil simply sighs. He looks outside of his open door with a frown. That won’t do. Loudly, Tommy complains, “Oh, I’m Phil, and I hate starving orphans. I let them freeze and starve to death and force them to fend for themselves because I’m so cruel and old and not poggers, and if I had it my way every child in the world would be starving to death because that’s just the kind of guy I-”

“Fucks sake, fine!” Phil interrupts with an incredulous laugh. He closes the door of his cabin and tosses his bag to the ground. “I’ll make you some bread, Tommy.”

“Oh Phil you are so kind. So benevolent. I don’t know why they say such mean things about you, you beautiful, generous man.”

“Oh, shut,” Phil instructs, wagging a hand toward the seat at his table. “Sit down, it’ll just be a minute. Bread and tea?”

Quickly, Tommy semi-politely insists, “Oh, uh, just bread’ll be fine.” He takes his place at the table and prays on every Prime he has that Phil does not make tea.

“You’re cold, tea will help,” Phil insists as he takes the kettle out. Dread Tommy has not felt since he was 12 and Wilbur was teaching him to inconspicuously poor out scalding hot tea fills him now.

“Phil, I worry for my insides. Your tea is not, um… Well, good? It’s very bad, actually, and I worry what kind of biohazard will make its way through my body. Should be the next fucker we toss in prison for that alone.” The joke falls flat to Tommy’s ears. It makes him feel a bit ill, actually. Phil just rolls his eyes and flicks warm water at Tommy.

“Better to die of a biohazard than freeze to death.”

“I disagree, simply.” But before Tommy can fight for his life a second more, Phil tosses him a loaf of bread. Tommy fumbles to catch it with his hands, but luckily his teeth are more than ready. With crumbs falling out of his mouth, Tommy says, “Philza Minecraft, you truly are the only man.” Phil just shakes his head and continues with his tea.

[nightwishesworld]

Life of Death

You’re gonna need tissues for this one folks! A huge thank you to @addictedtodinosaurs for allowing me to write this wonderful headcannon! Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: Angst. Whole lot of angst 

It hasn’t even been a day since Alcina’s world collapsed. Ethan Winters managed to flee Castle Dimitrescu with his life and topple the hierarchy Mother Miranda worked so hard to achieve. Everyone is gone; Angie, Moreau's house, Mother Miranda, even her baby brother Karl. They never stood a chance after the fall of the great Mother Miranda. Without her protection, they were left helpless. Of course, Ethan only saw them all as monsters; filthy bloodthirsty creatures that needed to be slain. That’s all anyone ever saw them as. They’re different so that must mean they’re wrong. They’re abnormally different from anything I’d ever seen so that automatically means they’re evil.

But they’re still a family. Lucky for Alcina, she never let herself depend on anyone other than herself. Well, except for her daughters.

She was wandering around the ruins of the castle in search of them. They were nowhere to be found since Ethan escaped. It was a grueling task but obviously, one that needed to be done. They need their mother’s tender love and care to nurse them back to health.

Cassandra was the first to be found. Naturally, she was found within the comfort of her basement. Where else would that silly girl be hiding? Just like Daniela, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds. Alcina carried her upstairs to her bedroom slowly and carefully to not make her feel any sicker to her stomach. From there she bathed her and wrapped whatever wounds she had in delicate cloth before putting her to rest in her bed. Alcina tousled her wet hair before leaving in search of the rest of her brood.

Daniela was the easiest to find. She was left lying face down in the parlor soaked in a pool of her own blood. Her body was riddled with bullet holes to the point where her abdomen resembled Swiss Cheese. Alcina was quick to scoop her up and bring her upstairs to tend to her wounds. Until she got Daniela in the bath she used the ends of her dress to put pressure on her abdomen. Just like Cassandra, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds.

Picking each individual bullet out of her body was an uphill battle, but Alcina was the eventual victor. Even better, she managed to not disturb her youngest’s slumber as she patched her up. Daniela was now free to rest as much as she needed in the sanctuary of her mother’s bed.

“What a mess we’re left with, hm? Don’t you worry about a thing my little Tasmanian Devil, Mother’s here now. I’ll protect you.”

The girls remained motionless as Alcina tucked Daniela in next to her sister.

Alcina watched as her little bundles of joy rested comfortably under the warm blankets and plush pillows. They look so sweet and at peace. It was rare for the matriarch to see them like this, but it always brought a smile to her face.

“You just rest now, my lovelies. I’m going to go find your sister so she can rest easy as well.” Alcina bends down and kisses each daughter on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

It took a few hours of searching to find her eldest daughter. Doing countless laps around the castle finally brought Alcina to explore the labyrinth of hidden passageways. There were a few times when said passageways brought her right back up to her bedroom. She wasn’t complaining too much though. Every time it happened she simply checked on her girls and reminded them how much she loves them.

Bela was by far the hardest to find. The sounds of scurrying behind a row of bookcases alerted Alcina to her presence. Following a single passageway eventually led Alcina to find the blonde buried from the chest down in rubble. The tunnel had collapsed from then on.

Alcina made quick work of removing the rock and rubble from her daughter's body. Rats fled back into their holes as she did so. The eldest Dimitrescu never moved even an inch. It took a while, but Alcina did manage to get her out in one piece. She whispered promises of a warm bath and offered to deep clean the dirt and dust out of her hair.

Bela couldn’t respond but Alcina knew she heard her. She could still sense her. She could sense all of them. They’re just weak, that’s all. They need as much rest as they can get.

It’s late evening by the time all three girls are bathed and tucked into bed. They were dressed in clean clothes and had their bandages changed again before Alcina crawled carefully into bed with them. She made sure to be extra careful when nudging them out of the way so she was in the middle; Bela on one side and Cassandra and Daniela on the other. Her arms wrapped around them all snugly.

It reminds Alcina of all the times the girls would burst into her room when they were little during a thunderstorm. All four of them would cuddle up just like this under the covers and either sing to them or read them a story.

“Tomorrow is a new day, my loves. We will start anew and we’ll be stronger than ever. I hope you sleep peacefully.”

The next morning comes slowly for Alcina. It’s quiet for once as the girls aren’t awake to cause mischief. Aching in her back and arms keeps her from stretching out. She smiled when she feels the girls are still snuggled up close to her.

“Good morning my darlings,” she says with a yawn. “How are we feeling today?”

Alcina kisses each daughter on the cheek and chooses not to notice how much more pale they were this morning. And certainly doesn’t recognize how stiff they were. She simply chalks it up to sleeping uncomfortably. After all, even she woke up with an aching back. Her arms wrapped around them must have really bothered them.

“It’s alright, girls. Take all the time you need to recover. You’ve been through quite the ordeal and need as much rest as you can get. I understand that. Mommy will be waiting for you right here to wake up. I’ll be the first thing you see when you open your bleary little eyes.”

The family lounged for the better half of the morning. Alcina takes her time stroking the hair of each of her girls’ hair and whispers words of comfort to them. “You’re so brave, my loves. And so strong; stronger than Mommy could ever hope to be.”

She notices a rather putrid smell coming from Daniela. One not caused by uncleanliness or a rotten meal, but something else entirely. Her immediate response is to change her bandages again, but can’t help but notice how pale Daniela had become overnight. Her lips were turning a shade of blue and the rest of her skin looked sickly. So did Cassandra and Daniela. Perhaps this is worse than simply recovering from injuries? Maybe....maybe they really were-

Alcina shook her head. They’ll wake up. Of course, they’ll wake up! They just need to rest extra long before they can really start to recover. So what if they get worse before they get better? At the end of the day, all that matters is that they do wake up. Then it’s smooth sailing from there.

The silence is suffocating. She feels the chill in her blood, coldness bringing the synapses of her brain to a standstill. Part of it is a pain, but one Alcina can endure. One she has to endure; for the sake of her daughters.

While she waited, Alcina called for a maid, the only one left, to fetch some documents from her private study that needed her attention.

They didn’t actually need her attention, of course. With the demise of Mother Miranda, the document's importance was nullified. But Alcina Dimitrescu is not the type of person to just sit around and do nothing. Especially when there are so many important things to do.

As soon as the maid steps into the room she understands what’s happening. She went through something strikingly similar when she had her miscarriage some years ago. Reality is a cruel plane of existence. Especially when you lose someone you loved suffering it with. It’s plain to see that her mistress is grieving her losses and she doesn’t have the heart to break whatever fantasies Lady Dimitrescu has built-in her head.

Instead, she chooses to play along. Delusional or not this was still Lady Dimitrescu, the woman will kill her if she tells her anything other than what she wants to hear. She gives a kind smile and curtsy to her Mistress and simply dies as she’s asked.

“Shall I fetch you some wine, My Lady?”

Alcina thought about it for a moment. It has been over 24 hours since she last fed and she was certainly craving sustenance. But ultimately decides against it in favor of her daughters.

“No. Keep what we have left safe for when my daughters wake. They’ll need their strength more than I’ll need mine.”

The maid waits a minute before trying again. She looks over at the girls still laying in bed. It’s obvious they are no longer there. She could smell the evidence of that from across the room.

“Very well, Lady Dimitrescu. I could send up a platter of-“

“Enough,” Alcina shouts but quickly catches herself from continuing. The girls don’t need to be disturbed by such a trivial matter. “Go make yourself useful and clean my daughters’ rooms. They’ll want them spotless when they wake up.”

The maid simply bows her head. “Of course, my Lady. Please forgive me.”

The next two weeks went on like this before the maid had enough. She wanted to help her mistress, she truly did, but there was nothing left for her here anymore. The last scraps of human food were officially gone and there was no reason to trek down to the village and come all the way back when she could just as easily take up residence down there. It was a gut-wrenching decision but it had to be done. She tried her best for Lady Dimitrescu and that’s all that mattered.

She slipped away in the dead of night. Normally the Lady would have any escapees hunted down and dragged back up to the castle only to be thrown in the basement. But there was no one to do that anymore. Heisenberg and his pack of lycans had perished long ago, even before the Lady’s daughters, and the Lady was too drained of emotions to care. Too weak to chase after her.

Alcina’s daughters are her everything. Every day she lived for them. She lived because of them.

Alcina took great pride in her tall stature. She is the image of beauty and elegance. The only real flaw in her design is its role in hunting down prey. You’d have to be blind or stupid to not see her coming after you. Even with her much larger strides, she wouldn’t be able to keep up. And Alcina Dimitrescu does not run. Prey is not worth running for.

So she depends on her daughters to hunt for her. They’re much more suited for the job; so young, and clever, and agile. They are her cubs and her, their lioness, too old to keep up with the hunting party.

Alcina looks at her girls and sees them as they truly are; dead. Lifeless corpses. Their bodies are decaying and cold. She has been changing the bed sheets every morning to keep away the maggots but failed to stop all of them. The smell of death is noxious even with all the windows open because Bela said she wanted to feel the crisp winter breeze.

“My girls,” Alcina sobs. “What have I done to you?”

She collapses at their bedside and finally allows herself to break down.

But looking up at them she still feels them. She can still feel their arms wrap around her shoulders as she cries. The smell of paint is still on Cassandra’s cloak and Daniela was sitting on the floor right next to her. The short ends of red hair tickled Alcina’s cheek. If they were truly gone, how is it she can still feel Bela kiss the top of her head and wrap her arms around her neck in an embrace?

“I never should have done this. How can I be so selfish? I never should have turned you to suffer as I have.” A new wave of tears blurred her vision. “What kind of mother am I?”

She knows she doesn’t have long now. How can she bring herself to care? Everyone she ever cared about was already gone. What’s the point of trying to survive without her dearest family, especially when she’s so close to being reunited. Alcina wiggles her way back under the covers and pulls her daughters close once more. She’s crying in earnest now, happy that her pain is almost over. Even now she can see her daughters playing together, maybe even with Uncle Karl somewhere in the far off distance.

A smile spreads to Alcina’s lips as she closes her eyes and simply waits for her turn to join in on the fun.

[apixrl]

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

[vostokovasmelina]

— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢  |  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 | 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson

word count: 3.1k+

warning: mentions and descriptions of alcohol, death, grief, trauma, therapy, depression – i call this post-snap realism

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: the ending is a dark unedited mess, so proceed with caution

Taking a cautious sip of your hot beverage, you watched this absolute gatecrasher of a man trying to make up his mind about whatever he was so confused about – Sam kept looking all around your apartment as if searching for something he had left there, his slightly lost and disoriented expression sending a sudden wave of guilt rushing over you. Now that you thought about it, it really must have sucked absolute cheese for him to come home hoping he could finally have that huge cup of strong black coffee he had been anticipating ever since having defeated that enormous purple bastard from Outer Space, only to find that his coffee machine was long gone and now this random lady with a philodendron problem and a judgmental cat were inhabiting the place with absolutely no room left for him whatsoever. It did sound tragic when you put it that way.

However, it really wasn’t your fault that you had needed to find a brand new residence approximately five years before. He really should have checked in with someone to make sure he still had somewhere to go home to. You were quite clearly the real victim here. And Lord only knew how poor Archie was going to process all the excitement of the day.

For a few seconds, you contemplated whether or not to put your thoughts into words, and eventually decided against it for the time being. The man had just helped save the world a few days before, after all, and out of what? Good conscience? Personally not for you, but you could appreciate it in others. And it would have been a real shame to die right when your fan-favourite succulents and killer new posting schedule had been attracting more Instagram followers than ever before. Thanks to the savior complex flaming inside of the gentleman standing before you though, the regular civilian had luckily escaped such terrible hardships. And special thanks to approximately a thousand and one other superheroes. Oh, and to an African country filled with similarly public-spirited people.

For a few awkwardly long seconds neither of you said a word. Sam kept looking around and you watched him look around, slowly lowering your mug onto the table and tilting your head slightly to the left. Weird how Sarah had never mentioned the brother believed to be dead for the last five years was this handsome. It is unfair, really. Some people are just naturally gorgeous no matter the shitty kitchen lighting, that tiny confused frown that had been sitting on their face for the last half hour, or those shiny black bugs for eyes tearing up ever so slightly to snitch on a long repressed yawn.

“Now that the drama is over and the Avengers as such are non-existent – have you considered a career in modeling yet?”

Sam snapped his head towards you with such force and speed that for a moment you were afraid you’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon sewing it back on his neck. You grabbed your mug still pretty much filled to the brim with tea and raised it back up to your mouth to hide your lingering half-smile behind a faded portrait of baby Archie on the ivory porcelain.

“Just saying, I would buy anything for this face on the package alone,” you continued with the confidence of a woman who hasn’t got a single drop of shame left in her body. But it was fine ‘cos you didn’t actually mean it, right? It was all just a joke, an attempt at lightening the mood and snapping him out of his puzzled melancholy. And that tiny flutter of your heart upon hearing Sam’s perfect little chuckle was but a momentary malfunction of the organ. The incident was purely physiological. No contribution from any emotional factors. It was simply an innocent coincidence that these two, completely unrelated things had co-occured.

So when your gazes met, you didn’t tear yours away in embarrassment – you stood your ground, completely unaffected and unbothered, ignoring the increasingly hot sensation in your cheeks when you saw Sam raise a cheeky eyebrow at you. Before even more damage could have been done, however, you decided to cut the party short.

“Oh, no. Don’t get your hopes up, Birdman. I simply couldn’t keep watching you in your deeply disturbed state.”

Very, very smooth. Cleared of all suspicion. Good job.

“Wow. Okay. That was cruel,” Sam scoffed and gave emphasis to his words by bringing up his right palm dramatically to his chest, right above his now most definitely broken heart. The overall effect got ruined by an annoyingly goofy grin in the end and before you even realised, you had already reached out for your massive mug again to drown your own erupting smile in the hot liquid.

In the silence that followed, however, you saw Sam’s smile fall ever so slightly, as if exhaustion or worry were holding onto the corners of his lips, physically tugging them down, and you shifted slightly uncomfortably in your seat. It was time you had stopped messing around with the poor guy.

“Look, I know this is weird but I’m sure we can find a solution. Just call Sarah so she can stop worrying now,” you suggested, finishing your tea and pushing the now empty mug to the middle of the table before leaning back in your seat.

“Ugh, yeah,” Sam started slowly, squatting down to get his mobile and the charger out of his massive sports bag. “Can I plug this in somewhere?”

You blinked at him a couple of times while he waited patiently for your answer. You could only imagine the number of missed calls and unread texts waiting for Sam on his phone, but you decided you didn’t know him enough to give him a lecture on behalf of his sister. So you just gave him a tired nod and gestured lazily towards your battered kitchen counter, Sam following your direction with his gaze.

“Above the microwave. Oh, and the socket farthest to the left–”

“–doesn’t work. I remember.” Sam flashed another exhausted but friendly smirk at you above his shoulder, and you allowed yourself to return the gesture to his back once he wasn’t watching.

“Right, sorry. Forgot I was the intruder here,” you joked, delighted to earn another one of those irritatingly lively chuckles of this man’s.

You seriously needed to get your shit together.

“Okay, while your phone is doing its thing, let’s call Sarah from mine, I guess” you continued, jumping up from your chair the moment Sam returned to the table and you headed towards your worn little couch where you scratched Archie gently behind his right ear. “Where have you put my phone, you dirty old man?” You cooed, smiling softly while sliding your hands under the cheap cushions and booping your irritated cat’s tiny nose when your fingers finally touched the cold metal you had been looking for.

Once seated again, you caught Sam staring at Archie, his eyes slightly narrowed in what appeared to be deep concentration. You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, waiting for your uninvited guest to notice you.

“I don’t think your cat likes me too much,” he finally said, slowly tearing his gaze away from the pet feline’s and looking into your slightly more welcoming human eyes instead.

You chuckled dryly, turning around to see Archie in all his glory on the couch. He simply gave you an unbothered look before completely losing interest in the two of you, and he hopped of the couch, slowly making his way towards your bedroom where you knew he would bundle up under your bed on the cosy carpet. He had apparently decided it was time for his beauty sleep.

“Yeah, he’s like that with everyone. Nothing personal,” you assured Sam, who offered a tired half-smile in return. You cleared your throat gently, eyes fixed on your phone’s screen and fingers already searching for Sarah’s number. Once you had found it, you handed it to Sam whose only job left was to press the call button. You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly and he let out a sigh while reaching out for your mobile.

* * *

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to Sarah. Quite the opposite, actually. But he was embarrassed. Sam knew full well how furious his sister was going to be. And honestly, rightfully so. He couldn’t argue with that. After all, she did say there had been something she wanted to talk to him about. And Sam did hang up on her without a passable excuse. And he did let his phone die on his way back home to Louisiana.

Yeah, he most probably wasn't going to be nominated for this year's Brother of the Year award.

Their last call had happened two days before. Two days is a long time without any news from a brother who had just returned after having been believed to be dead for the past five years. And if you had been to ask him, Sam wouldn’t have been able to tell you what had gotten into him either but ever since the Blip, something had not been exactly right. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on, so he hadn’t brought it up to anyone, but his brain felt slow and foggy as if it hadn't had time to catch up yet.

Sometimes, Sam worried that the molecules in his brain had been mixed up and hadn't been put back into their original places in the process of the whole turning-into-dust-and-back-into-human-form-again thing.

It was a silly thought, yes, but with everything going on in the world, would it really be that hard to believe?

"Hey hon! What's up?" Sam's thought process was cut off by the endearing voice of his sister, and though he was aware all this affection was not directed towards him – given that he had called Sarah on your phone – his heart did swell upon hearing her again.

And then he said hi and it all went south from there.

Sarah was obviously pissed.

She asked Sam if he had any idea how many texts and missed calls she had left him, and no, he had no clue but if he had to guess, the number would have been way high up in the double digits.

Then she started going off on Sam, using different kinds of actually very creative euphemisms – which was a problem because Sam got so distracted by his sister's choice of words that her short, well-thought out rant had very little effect on him, but at least he had enough self-respect left to get his sister off speaker at this point.

"Look, Sarah, I know I messed up but I'm fine! I swear," he started, cutting his sister short while subconsciously picking at the skin around the nail on his index finger with his thumb. "What if I stop by Andy's and tell him to give me their best apple pie?" Sam added, hoping this promise would serve as an ice-breaker. Sarah did love her desserts. A lot. And Andy always gave a discount to the Wilson family, too.

When he heard his sister's tired sigh, Sam's heart gave a hopeful flutter, but he was rudely dragged back onto the ground on his way to cloud nine the very next second.

"I'm doing the shopping at the moment. Just got here and it's gonna take long," Sarah replied, annoyance poking through all her words. Then, the tension that had been dominating the pair's call suddenly seemed to evaporate as Sam sensed a weak shadow of a smile in her following sentence. "But that apple pie does sound good."

Sam couldn't help the grin that creeped its way onto his face and he didn't even care about Sarah's semi-serious threat, saying how they were nowhere near finished yet. He muttered out a quick sorry again, promised Sarah to give her regards to you and finished the call with a charming 'I love you' to which his sister replied with a snarky 'I bet' before hanging up with a promise that she would call again when she got home.

Sam let out a relieved chuckle before handing you back your phone and taking the final sip of his slightly lukewarm coffee, watching your bright red-nailed fingers tap away on the device, and he swallowed harder and probably louder than he had meant to. You just happened to put your phone down the very next second, so he tried to cover up the gulp by clearing his throat and shifting his gaze from your nails to your eyes.

Beautiful eyes.

Well shit.

"So, I guess you're staying," you started hesitantly, raising your eyebrows at Sam in a slightly impatient manner, which snapped him out of his blissful thoughts and thrust him back into reality.

Was he staying? He certainly had nowhere to go now that he was practically homeless and his sister was unable to welcome him in her own home for the next two hours, at least. But then again, you were a complete stranger whose afternoon he had just disrupted, and it didn't matter how weird it felt seeing you be so at home in his apartment because it wasn't his anymore. It was yours and you had all the right to kick Sam out and he had absolutely zero right to argue.

But, thankfully, he didn't have to.

"Which is fine, by the way. I did promise you an explanation, after all." Sam couldn't quite ignore the hint of dread behind your words and he was ready to object, to leave you alone and spend the rest of his afternoon doing God-knows-what, but then you offered him another cup of coffee followed by a tiny but honest smile, and Sam just couldn't bring himself to say no.

* * *

Sam Wilson was ridiculously easy to open up to.

It made you want to commit a crime.

His gaze was so intensely warm that after a while, you were looking at everything in your apartment but him just to avoid accidentally trauma dumping on him, especially when you got to the part about group therapy.

Because you had met Sarah at a group therapy session approximately four and a half years before.

It had been clear from the very first minute that neither of you had actually wanted to be there and that both of you had been forced into this situation. Sarah had been dragged to group by an overly enthusiastic co-worker of hers whose crush on the counselor had been probably more intense than the trauma she had suffered – she had lost a dog and her neighbor to the right whom she had always talked shit about behind his back. She was a nice enough woman, but considering that people had lost actual family in the Snap, her presence had always been mostly aggravating, to say the least.

In your case, it had been your grandmother who had bullied you into going to one of the sessions because 'she had the same rotten mentality when Miss Taylor told her to go but then she found it life-changing'. At this point, you had become so indifferent to everything in the world that you hadn't needed much convincing to go. You had told yourself it would be one session anyway after which you would have told Grandma Ethel that 'therapy was simply not for you' and could have been back to your usual Thursday evening routine consisting of a cheap bottle of red wine and depressing reruns of trashy British reality shows from the late 2000s.

The actual sessions had never worked for you. They might have if you had actually spoken up at any of them but you had never become quite ready to talk about your loss in front of a dozen other people, most of whom you had already known. But then you had met Sarah and something about her had made you feel secure, secure enough to talk about them for the first time, so you had started hanging out at a café not too far from the community center and it had become the best thing in your life.

"And the rest is history," you finished, getting up from your chair to put both yours and Sam's mug in the sink and watered your nearby plants while at it.

"I'm really glad Sarah had someone by her side," Sam commented and you could hear a hint of guilt in his words but you decided to ignore it. You simply nodded and muttered out a weak 'yeah', saying you were just as happy to have found a friend like Sarah.

Then Sam said something that made all the muscles in your body tense up and you froze completely for the next couple of seconds.

"And have you seen your family yet? Now that they've come back?"

It was an innocent question. He doesn't know the whole story. So calm down.

You slowly put down the glass you had used earlier to water your plants and tried with every particle in your body to put on the best toothpaste commercial-worthy smile you could force out of yourself before turning back towards Sam and answering his absolutely understandable question.

"Yeah!" No. "They're doing well, actually!" They're fucking dead.

Sam's genuinely happy smile was way too much to handle and if it hadn't been for a call from Sarah, you would have broken down in tears right in front of him the very next moment.

So instead of all that, you decided to turn right back around, pour yourself a huge glass of cold tapwater and down it in one breath while Sam finished his brief conversation with his sister. The stinging pain in your chest that followed was enough to distract your thoughts until he was finally at the door, saying goodbye and thanking your for the coffee and saying sorry for intruding and taking absolutely way too fucking long to finally leave.

"Hey, um... I could give you my number? If you ever need anything or..."

He can't be serious.

"Sure! You can, ugh, put it in my phone," you replied, your hands shaking dangerously as you reached into your back pocket for your mobile and handed it to Sam, who knew better than to comment on it.

Once finished, he returned your phone with one of those irritatingly joyful smiles of his and with a final 'see you around' Sam Wilson was off and you proudly patted yourself on the back for successfully holding it together until you finally reached your couch.

* * *

mini-series taglist – let me know if you want to be added

@softieyn

@mahvericks

@amirahiddleston

@fireghost-x

@samuelthomaswillson

@itsnottilly

@loveyhoneydovey

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@claudiaatje

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@annathesillyfriend

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mcu taglist – join here

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[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease.  Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there.  To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door.  He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open.  Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees.  He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast.  Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out.  After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget.  Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either.  Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on.  He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic.  The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money.  They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel.  Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch.  “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath.  She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact.  He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident.  “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about.  Presents.  What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers?  Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea.  Because Yakko is smart.  Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin.  “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink.  Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes.  They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling.  Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through.  Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day.  Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great.  She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her.  She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall.  Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal!  By my own siblings no less!  Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead.  Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand.  Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot!  I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean.  He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk.  Who needs lactose?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal.  The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.  

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still.  Who doesn’t love winter?  It has Christmas!  And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside.  She wants to play in the snow.  She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs.  She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern.  Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise.  Because it will be.  He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch.  He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine.  It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end.  Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is.  Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day.  Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?” 

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually.  Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside.  We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.  

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride?  They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay?  They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here.  It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then.  Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates.  Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad.  Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes.  He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow.  Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting.  Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen.  He shuffles over himself.  Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before.  “My gift to you is your menu of choice.  The whole day, a la carte menu.  Whatever you guys want, I’ll make.  So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift.  Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother.  But, uh, let me make Dot’s first?  Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin. 

After that, they open up the presents under the tree.  Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt.  He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained.  Wakko thinks he knows why.  Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all.  There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity.  She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end.  She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too.  He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others.  He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley.  He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping. 

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside.  Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket.  “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world.  “Make me uncomfortable.  Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that.  Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not?  Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection!  He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand.  But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.  

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves.  “I...have to prepare my gift for you.  Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs.  Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out.  He’d checked, double checked, triple checked.  If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound.  Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes.  His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar.  From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious.  “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants.  He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her.  Dot throws some back.  Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother.  Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.  

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!

[levbug]

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄— 𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐤.

#pairing ー akaashi keiji x royal! gender neutral! reader

#warnings ー royalty au! a few curses here and there. also a mentioning of being locked up, not getting fed enough, arranged marriage (its the plot do beware), marriage to men older than 50 to a younger person, death of natural causes

#wc ー 2.2k

you lay on the grass with akaashi, enjoying the view of the stars above you. it had been months since you two have done this, and you could never tell when the next time would be, so you just savoured the rare calmness you only felt when you were with the boy.

as each day passed and your arranged wedding was nearing, you and akaashi found yourselves getting busier and not having enough time to spend with each other. it broke both your hearts' that, soon, you'd be married and it wouldn't be to him.

you desperately wished to be wed to him, but you were from different worlds: you being royalty and akaashi being the prince's, your brother's, most trusted servant. it wasn't acceptable in the eyes of others.

"so what if it isn't? it's not anyone's business on who i fall in love with. let them say whatever." you had responded angrily to akaashi after he brought it up. he shook his head and held your face gently between his calloused hands.

"i know, your highness, but it's not as simple as it sounds." he kissed your forehead. you relaxed as his lips touched your skin, smiling as you heard him address you by your royal title. his silly nickname for you made you forget about your anger. akaashi was the only one who could do that to you.

the consequence of marrying a commoner seemed like nothing, but it was everything. you would lose your royal status and be forbidden to ever see your family again. it was a cruel punishment, but you were tempted to disobey the rules and do it. maybe even start your own family with akaashi and live in the town.

but every time you saw koutarou's infectious grin, or heard your father's booming laugh that couldn't help but make everyone around him chuckle as well, or caught glimpse of your mother's soft (eye colour) eyes that matched yours, you would second-guess yourself. you loved your family, but you also loved akaashi.

akaashi had convinced you to stay with your family, despite wanting nothing but to go to marry and live the rest of his life with you. he had seen how torn you were and and decided to be selfless, saying he'd be happy to just be able to see you everyday surrounded by those you loved.

koutarou knew of your situation, but there was nothing he could do. he wouldn't become king soon enough, definitely not in time for your wedding, so he couldn't change the rules or call off the marriage. he knew how much you loved akaashi, just looking at you he could tell, and it saddened him that he was helpless in this situation.

your betrothed was the king of seijoh. he was a sleazy old guy with a bad temper and horrible manners. he was at least thirty years your senior and you'd be his sixth spouse. he disgusted you to no end. he touched you inappropriately on the first night you met and when you called him out on it, he dismissed it as a good ol' joke.

he had only chosen you to be his spouse because he saw a painting of you and deemed you physically acceptable. you knew if he found out about your courtship with akaashi, he'd have you executed, as he had with his last spouse. he was globally revered and he knew it, using it to his own advantage.

"keiji?" you called to him softly. he looked down at you with his beautiful dark blue eyes, awakening the butterflies in your stomach. 'gosh, keiji, you never fail to make me feel this way.' you thought, staring back up at him, cheeks heating up under his soft yet intense stare.

"yes, love?" he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. your heart rate sped up a bit at the nickname, as it was rare for him to call you anything but your given name or 'your highness'.

"i don't want to get married to that creepy old fucktard." your sudden statement caught akaashi off-guard and he couldn't help but chuckle. he found it amusing how even if you were raised to be 'proper' and speak only the politest words, you would do the exact opposite.

"well, you don't have much of a choice. when the king says he wants you, it's you he's gonna get." akaashi said, sitting up so he could look at you. "no matter how disgusting it sounds, it's our reality."

"i know, i know...it's just surreal how someone can just choose who they want to marry and the other has no choice but to accept, because if they didn't, it would possibly result in war." you sat up as well, glaring at the ground in frustration. akaashi noticed how riled up you were getting and held your hand in his, tracing small circles on the back of it.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "if i could, i'd fight that sorry excuse of a king for your hand in marriage."

smiling at his sincerity, you scooted closer to him and leaned you head on his shoulder. you felt tears well up in your eyes as you thought of all those days and sleepless nights you had spent imagining your future with the boy who sat next to you.

"i wish i could stay and keep the life i made with you." you sighed. akaashi closed his eyes and just listened to your soft voice. "it's true, i'll never be over you because i've built a future in my mind with you and now hope is gone. there's nothing left for me to do."

akaashi's eyes opened as he heard this. "that's not true. as much as i hate to think of a life without you, you don't need me. you're wonderful, bright, and young. you don't need my love to continue living. and don't bother arguing, because we both know i'm right."

tears threatened to fall from you eyes and it took everything in you to not cry. "listen, (first name), i hope you know i love you, because i really do and i can't say it enough, but with the king, you'll survive. you'll be safe with him, and i'll be content knowing you are."

the tears you had been trying to stop earlier were now falling freely from your cheeks. akaashi took you into his arms and hugged you tightly, rocking you back and forth in attempts to calm your crying.

when your sobbing had been reduced to small whimpers and sniffles, akaashi held you at arm's length to look you in the eye. "k-keiji, puh-please promise me you'll al-lways love me." you hiccuped, your puffy red eyes staring at him desperately.

"i promise. and you promise to always love me?"

"i suh-swear."

akaashi had been wrong about one thing; you were not safe with the king. it had taken years for you to return to your home because the king had forbade you from ever visiting fukurodani when he found out you and akaashi had been exchanging letters.

the old sleaze had treated you like a prisoner, only letting you out of your room when there was an event or when there were visitors and he needed eye candy.

his son, tooru, had been much kinder to you. he was a year older than you and was extremely attractive. you thought you would've fallen for him if you weren't already head over heels for akaashi.

tooru would sneak up to the tower you were locked in and bring you some food, knowing that they didn't feed you enough. you were eternally grateful for him and constantly let him know.

one day, though, tooru was earlier than he usually came and this time he was accompanied by two guards. you recognized one as iwaizumi, as he had also occasionally given you extra food, but the other one had pink hair and you weren't familiar with him.

"tooru, is everything alright?" you asked the taller male as you heard keys jingling in the cell's lock. you were sure there was no event tonight, since usually a handmaid would be the one at the door, never the prince. "did something happen?”

"i'll explain it to when you get out." his usually cheery voice was devoid of all emotion. the door swung open and you jumped back, startled. the two guards helped you stand up.

you were a bit wobbly on your feet, as you hadn't been let out in a month. the guards noticed though, and held you by your arms gently as you walked down the stairs.

a million thoughts rushed through your head as you descended down the tower. was koutarou alright? was this about your family or fukurodani? were you being sent to execution? tears welled up in your eyes at the last thought, knowing full well that the king was merciless enough to kill you for no reason.

when you had made it down the last flight of stairs, you were sat on a soft, plush couch which contrasted to the cold, hard stone floors in your tower. tooru sat in front of you with a somber expression.

"my father is dead. he died last night of natural causes." he said grimly. as much as you hated the king, he was still tooru's father and you couldn't help but sympathize with the grieving man. the king had taken so much from you, but your humanity was not one of them. "you can go back to your kingdom, now."

"tooru, i...i'm sorry about your father." he nodded, and you knew those weren't the right words to say. you couldn't grasp the idea that the king was dead and you were just stunned at the fact that you were free again. "when will your coronation be?"

"friday." he responded with not an ounce of emotion. his usually bright brown eyes were dull. you pitied the poor man and suddenly embraced him. he was surprised by this but didn't pull away. soon enough, soft sobs could be heard from him.

you had decided to stay until tooru's coronation and then head home. the brunette appreciated your thoughtfulness immensely and promised he would visit you whenever he would have the chance.

when you arrived to fukurodani, you were immediately swarmed by journalists and reporters on the docks. they asked questions about your time at seijoh and what it was like to marry an older guy like the late king. it was nerve-wracking to be surrounded by so many people after being isolated for so long and you felt your anxiety building up within you.

luckily your guards had gotten you out of their reach and now you were on your way to the palace. your home. where your family resided. where akaashi was.

keiji.

everyday for four years you had daydreamed of what your life would have been like if you had married him instead. everyday for four years you wished to see his face and hear his gentle voice. everyday for four years you longed to be in his embrace.

when you had stepped through the palace doors, you had immediately run into your brother's arms. the king had been surprised by your informal greeting, but hugged you back, as he had also missed his sibling.

one you had pulled away from koutarou's embrace, you caught sight of the familiar messy black hair and gun-metal blue eyes you had fallen in love with.

you ignored koutarou's protests as you sprinted into akaashi's arms, making the boyーer, manーgrunt from the force of impact and stumble a bit before catching himself from falling.

as a result of so many years of not getting enough human contact, you had become a touchy person, constantly hugging others or touching their hands or arms as if to remind yourself that they were real. that this wasn't some concocted reality. as if looking for comfort.

when akaashi wrapped his arms around you though, you felt a heat flood through your body. it made you feel human, after years of being treated lesser than a pet. it was like a warm blanket placed on your shoulders after jumping into a cold lake. it felt like the feeling of sipping hot cocoa near the fireplace after playing in the snow for hours.

it was like waking up from a bad dream.

akaashi felt you shaking, hearing you sob breathlessly between his arms and looked at you concernedly. but he noticed that you weren't crying because you were sad or scared, you were crying in relief.

he wondered how awful the king had treated you. it angered him that he could hurt you so much. you noticed akaashi's furrowed eyebrows and the dark look in his expressive eyes, telling him to relax because it was fine now. everything was good. you were okay. you were fine.

you were safe.

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Disturbing || Tommy Shelby x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary:  Can you write one about tommy and reader breaking up, then months later tommy sees her with people he doesn’t approve, of drinking ( drugs eg if your comfortable) so he try’s to get her back? Maybe with younger reader

Warnings: Younger reader (20-25 yrs old), anxiety, maybe angst, drug use, heavy drinking, swearing (but, c’mon, it’s the peaky fooking blinders we’re talking about)

Author’s notes: 

I’m sorry if the title sucks, I can’t think of anything better at the moment

This was my very first request and I was so tense while writing it, I guess I smoked a thousand cigarettes in the process! I’m praying that you’ll like it, let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected  ♡

I myself suffer form anxiety, in the first part I just tried to explain how my brain works in certain situations and that’s why it is so long, I hope you won’t get bored.

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

You had been trying to keep control of your mind, you truly had, but in the end that familiar sense of pure fear took over you, again. A heavy form of anxiety had been haunting you ever since you were a little girl, but, as the years went by, you had learnt to cope with it well and when you met Thomas, things only got better, the strong bond between the two of you constantly helping you handle that issue. 

Nevertheless, during the last month, things got definitely out of hand: Tommy was always caught up with business, rarely paying attention to you and your increasing fragility, he hadn’t spent a night home since ages and still, in those rare moments you were together, he was just so distant, totally lost in his own mind.

On the other hand, you never once blamed him for the way his life worked, after all you were perfectly aware of how hard it was for him to look after his whole empire, always trying to deal with countless problems without causing any harm to his loved ones, and that was surely not the easiest thing to do. But this time was different: you couldn’t prevent your brain from having obsessive thoughts about Thomas getting completely tired of having you in his way, you actually convinced yourself he was sleeping with other women in the nights he didn’t come home, and on those nights your eyes never shut, you spent hours alone in your king size bed, staring at the white ceiling with short breath and palpitations. That’s why you just couldn’t take it anymore, anxiety was once more sucking the life out of you and you absolutely needed to talk to your boyfriend about it, so, as soon as he entered the house that night, you practically run towards him, determined to calmly explain everything; too bad, your exhausted mind wasn’t working straight and your mouth immediately made it clear.

-Y-you have to tell me-  Tears already streaming down your face while the handsome man in front of you gave you a confused look, not having a clue of what was going on. You could tell he also was in a bad mood, indeed your sentence was at first totally ignored as he walked into his study and quickly lit a cigarette, before filling his glass with whisky.

-What the hell are you talking about, y/n?-

You were now facing him again, your hands shamelessly trembling against your chest while you hardly held back the crying. -If there’s another woman, i-if you want to get rid of me, you have to tell me now, ‘cause I’m l-losing my mind, Thomas-

You slightly jumped when his now empty glass was roughly shoved against the huge desk separating your figures, then you unconsciously stepped back, noticing absolute fury burning in his glacial eyes.

-Are you serious right now, eh? Have you any idea how fucking difficult it is to keep everything working these days, eh?- His voice was loud and raspy as he stood from his seat -And you fucking come and tell me about other bloody women, how idiotic of you!- Heavy sobs started coming out of your throat, Thomas instead took a deep breath in order to calm down and stop shouting in your face; once he had partially blown off steam, he sat back in his chair, looking up at you almost with disgust.

-You know what? My brothers were right for once, you’re just a silly kid unable to fit in our world. This whole thing was a mistake, I need a fucking grown woman by my side!- A disturbing silence filled the room right after he spat those bitter words and you swore you heard your heart stop along with your breathing in that very moment, your eyelids instinctively tightened for several seconds, yet, when your eyes flew back open, you realized it wasn’t only a bad dream. Tommy was still staring at you with a stern expression, probably waiting on your next move, so you just looked into his blue irises one last time, unable to speak a single syllable, before leaving.

                                                                                                       3 months later

Days went by fast after your break up with Thomas, since then you’d been trying to avoid him in every way possible, humiliation and pain being still too intense to let you face him without terrible consequences for your already vulnerable spirit. Indeed, everything around you was literally going to pieces right before your eyes and you couldn’t help it; even though you’d always been a strong girl, pretty capable of getting through life and its adversities, recent events had left you in a state of such deep sorrow, that the only thing you were able to do was seek any practicable form of anesthesia in order to escape from reality, even just for a brief moment. In fact, you’d been hanging out with a group of very low guys from East Birmingham, which led you to do drugs and bend your elbow more and more often, severely damaging your ability to think rationally, and the worst part was that you didn’t even care about what you were doing to yourself, as long as it allowed you to get along with your demons.

And then one night, your presumed new friends literally dragged you to the Garrison, despite your loud protests arising from the awareness of the fact that Thomas would’ve been there too. Luckily, long before the Shelby brothers made their usual entrance into their pub, you ended up being utterly intoxicated by alcohol and cocaine to the point that, when the moment finally came and Tommy showed up, you barely noticed him. Too bad for you, Tom’s eyes, on the other hand, never failed in spotting your silhouette among the crowd. At first, seeing you again after all those days brought pure relief to his soul, God only knew how much he had missed you, but soon after he remembered the reason why you were gone and his jaw clenched with regret and shame for the unforgivable way he had treated you.  Conscious of the fact that he had already caused you too much pain, Thomas was about to go away and leave you be, until he saw you diving in some random guy’s arms while heavy drinking directly from a bottle. It just wasn’t like you to act in such a way, therefore he immediately realized that something must have been wrong, so, before his mind had a chance to catch up with the rest of his body, Tommy found himself taking long strides in your direction, roughly elbowing anyone who was in his path. All of a sudden, you observed your friend’s face turn pale and his eyes go wide with fear for no apparently reason, Andrew kept staring at a precise point behind your shoulders and when you turned around in order to understand what was going on, Thomas Shelby was in front of you in all his glory. For a couple of seconds he just stood there, sending deadly glares at the poor boy next to you, blood boiling in his veins because of the violent rage that affected him, then his attention entirely moved to your trembling figure.

-I need a word with you- You felt your chest shrinking in pain as his calm and deep voice reached your ears, but you still tried to play it cool with a strength you didn’t know you had. -Fuck you already, Thomas- A resentful laugh erupted from your throat while, careful not to look in his mesmerizing eyes, you attempted to turn your back on him, yet a gentle grip on your forearm stopped your movements, forcing you to stay in your place.

-I’m begging you, y/n, we need to talk- This time his crystal blue gaze successfully entangled yours and your mind went totally black for a moment, preventing you to fight against him as he guided you out of the pub. Birmingham’s cold breeze immediately hit both of your bodies, but you were hardly able to sense it, due to the effects that drugs and alcohol had on your brain; once you were far enough from the chaos, Tommy stopped walking, his large hand still on your arm. -What are you doing?- His thumb made it to your beautiful face, softly wiping away from your nose the traces of that familiar white powder. -This is not you, y/n!-

His tone raised, displaying all of his concern, you simply gave him a forceful shove in attempt to push him away, but his toned chest didn’t move an inch. -Why do you even care, Tommy? After all I’m just a silly kid to you!- You started screaming, prey of your frustration, as soon as you felt hot tears forming in your eyes; the realization of how you still hopelessly loved him stabbed you right in the ribs.

-Please, just listen to me, okay?- He said while cupping your face with both his hands, probably to make sure you were looking at him, so you managed to childishly close your eyes in a last desperate demonstration of your hard feelings towards him. -I know I hurt you, I know the things I said to you were cruel and unfair, you didn’t deserve that, nothing of that was true- Thomas leaned his forehead against yours, even though you still had your eyes closed and your fists harshly pressed against his chest, his voice now sounding a lot closer. -I was going through a hard time and I was a fucking bastard for putting it all on you. But I swear to God, love, look at me- he slightly rocked you in order to get your attention -Look at me, I love you, y/n- Your eyelids flew open instantly, that being the very first time he clearly admitted his feelings for you, and suddenly you were no longer able to control all of your destructive emotions: your body was now racked with violent sobs as you finally let him hold you properly, crying out loud against his waistcoat and shirt. -Shh, shh- Tommy’s thumbs gradually wiped the tears away from your cheeks, while his lips briefly pecked yours multiple times. -It’s okay, we’ll be fine-  he mumbled in between kisses - let’s go home now-.

[cassandra-tangled]

Cassandra Appreciation Week Day 3: Underrated

Hey guys!!! Here’s my one-shot for day 3: underrated! You’ll never believe, I actually got this one up before 12 o clock midnight, lol. 

Here’s the AO3 link

The word count is 2,222

And a brief summary is: this piece touches on Cassandra’s childhood, and especially her relationship with Queen Arianna. I’m thinking about possibly starting a side project about Cass’ childhood, even though after this week my main focus will continue to be New Beginnings. Lemme know if y’all think that’d be a good idea!

Today’s one-shot doesn’t have any sensitive content. Enjoy!

Cassandra held the tightly-rolled scroll close to her chest, and made her way through the wide, pale hallways of the castle. Her father had, once again, sent her off to the throne room with a message for the King and Queen. 

“You need to learn responsibility, Cassandra,” he’d say whenever he had a job for her, stooping down to be at eye-level and laying a hand on her shoulder. “The King and Queen are good people. They were generous enough to allow me to take you in and raise you in their castle, and one day you’ll repay that debt through servitude. For now, though, the Queen especially wants you to have a happy girlhood. That doesn’t change the fact that, come a day not too far along, you will begin to aid the other servants around the castle. You must learn how to interact with those you will soon serve. Do you understand, Cassandra?” 

Cassandra would nod her head. “Yes, Father.”

“Good.” He’d hand her the scroll, tell her to mind her behavior, and send her on her way. 

And so, she went--every time, her legs carrying her almost aimlessly along the route she’d taken so often, and her mind wandering to be anywhere other than where she physically was. Cassandra was young, but she’d understood--and detested--her place in society for as long as she could remember. Books were her best friends, and she’d often read fantastical tales of endangered princesses saved by noble knights. Although enthralled in the story for its duration, when she’d finish and close the novel, she was always left with a depressing, heavy feeling in her chest. Cassandra understood that her destiny was not to be the starring damsel in distress, nor the headlining knight in shining armor, but rather, she was relegated to the role of the servant who served the victory dinner. This simple fact of life left Cassandra with an ache to be more, a deep, unshakable yearning to surpass her station. It was a silly fantasy. She could never grow to be more than the role she was destined to, and she understood that. 

In fact, despite being a girl of just nine, Cassandra had already managed to wrap her head around many of life’s truths. She understood the implications and division of status, the importance of wealth--or lack thereof. She understood that people were greedy, cold, and selfish, and that many would do unthinkable things to get by, or even just for fun. She understood that she would have to work to earn her keep, and that she wasn’t entitled to anything. She understood that her birth parents--whoever they were--did not want her, or love her, and that she was fortunate for her father finding her and taking her in. She understood that the world was a cruel, unforgiving, harsh place and that, despite her dissatisfaction with the status she’d been born to, she was most certainly one of the luckier ones. 

Cassandra also understood that, despite all of the darkness and despair that clouded the world and her young mind, there was some light. The brightest light, for Cassandra, came in the form of Queen Arianna of Corona. The Queen was so very good to her. Not only had she allowed for Cassandra to be raised here and generously provided the necessities to facilitate her upbringing, she often treated the child to sweets or motherly pats on the head. Although she knew it could never be true, Cassandra liked to daydream of a world in which Arianna was her mother. Despite being her Queen, and despite the levels of class between them, Arianna was the closest thing Cassandra had ever had to a motherly figure who actually cared for her.

Cassandra could clearly recall the first time she met the Queen. It was the same night that she’d been found by her father. He brought her back to the castle with him, and instructed her to wait for him outside of a tall, wide set of doors. Although she didn’t quite understand what was going on, it was clear to her that it wasn’t any good.  

After he’d entered the room and shut the doors, Cassandra pressed her ears up to them, and could just barely make out some phrases and mutterings of conversation through the thick, dark wood.

“Your Highnesses, I’m sorry we couldn’t...she cut the bridge and ran...we’ll search…”

“How could you let...we trusted you...my child…”

“Frederic, stop...tried his best...our most trusted soldier…”

“I know, Arianna...forgive me…heart is broken...” 

“We’ll never...until we find her…however, we did...a child…”

“You what…”

“I humbly request your permission to...as my own…”

“Bring her…”

And, suddenly, footsteps towards the door. Cassandra jumped back and leaned up against the wall, pretending that she had never been listening in the first place. 

The door swung open, and the man that rescued her--who Cassandra would soon know as Dad--stepped out. He reached down towards her and scooped her up off the ground.

“Sweetie, some friends of mine would like to meet you. They are very important people, and something bad has just happened to them. Please, be on your best behavior.”

“Um…” Cassandra wiggled, attempting to get free. “I want Mommy.” 

“I’m sorry, dear.” The man averted his eyes from Cassandra. “You’re not going to see your mother ever again.”

Cassandra’s lip began to quiver, and tears welled in her eyes. In response, the man cradling her gave her an affectionate pat on the head.

“Don’t cry, little one,” he soothed. “I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of. There is no need to worry.”

“But, Mommy…”

“I know, but you’ll be taken care of. Please, just don’t cry when I take you in there. Okay?” 

Cassandra wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and hugged him tight. “Okay.”

She felt the movement underneath her as the two made their way into the mysterious room. Within seconds, the movement had stopped. 

“Here she is.” The man gave her a pat on the back. “Will you look up for me, sweetie?”

Slowly, Cassandra loosened her grip from the man’s neck, and shifted her gaze towards the direction that he was looking in. Her eyes met with two people sitting in huge, regal chairs--a man and a woman. They were wearing the finest clothes she had ever seen, and the room was as fancy and large as the rest of the castle, but Cassandra could tell that something was very wrong. They looked tired and defeated, their eyes puffy, and cheeks crusted with the salty residue of tears. The man was slumped forward, head in his hands and leg jumping up and down restlessly. The woman simply sat back in her chair, gazing off into the distance with a melancholy look. When her green eyes met with Cassandra’s, though, she managed a weak smile.

“Hello, dear.” The green-eyed woman then addressed her words to the man holding Cassandra. “Where did you say you found her again?”

“At the house where, er…”

The woman nodded her head. “Okay. You needn’t say more in front of such sensitive ears.”

Suddenly, the hunched over, stressed-looking man spoke. “Couldn’t you take her to an orphanage, Captain?”

“Frederic.” The woman swatted at his shoulder. “I know you’re upset, but don’t be so cruel. Look at her! She’s but an innocent babe. If the Captain wants to take her in, we should let him.” 

The man raised his gaze from the table, and when his eyes met with Cassandra’s, they softened. “Oh, you’re right, Arianna. She’s just a child.” He paused, and returned his gaze to the table. “Captain, if you wish to take the child as your ward, you may.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll get her some food and put her to sleep, and as soon as I’m finished, I’ll rejoin the search. Rest assured, my men are scouring every nook and cranny tirelessly, sir.”

“Very well.”

“Before you go,” the woman interrupted, “may I hold her?”

“If you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Please. I do.”

With that, Cassandra was placed in the lap of the green-eyed woman. Her face was grief ridden, struck with melancholy, and yet she smiled, and was tender and gentle. She reached out a hand, and stroked the child’s hair.

“Hello, dear. My name is Arianna.”

“Ar...Ar-yanna,” Cassandra repeated.

“That’s right. What’s yours?” The woman cupped Cassandra’s face in her hands. 

“Cassandra.”

“You’re a beautiful child, do you know that, Cassandra? The nice man who brought you here is going to take good care of you. You’re going to live here with him. We will make sure you are fed, clothed, have a good education, have toys to play with and books to read. Does that sound good?”

“Okay. But whaddabout Mommy?”

“Oh, dear.” The woman pulled Cassandra into an embrace, and Cassandra could feel her chest silently heaving. She spoke with pain in her voice. “It’d do you best to completely forget of that dreadful, dreadful woman.” 

Cassandra had, in fact, forgotten her mother. Who she was, her features, anything about the woman that Cass had once known was pushed deep to the recesses of her mind. From that day on, she came to know the man who had saved her as Dad, the worrisome man as King Frederic, and the sad, green-eyed woman as Queen Arianna. 

That night was the first and last time that Queen Arianna had hugged her, but to this day, the Queen was just as kind and caring towards her.

Suddenly, a voice pulled Cassandra from her thoughts. 

“Yoohoo, kid! Another scroll from the boss?”

Jostled, Cassandra looked up, and realized she had drifted so far in her memories that she’d walked right past the throne room.

“Oh. Yes.” She turned around sheepishly and made her way to the doors of the throne room. The guard who had addressed her, William, swung the door open for her.

“The Queen is in there. You know she loves your visits,” he winked.

A smile came across Cassandra’s face. “Thanks, Will.” With that, she made her way into the throne room. Arianna was, in fact, perched in her throne, apparently reviewing some court documents. Cassandra silently made her way up the long carpet, and stopped just before the stairs that led up to where Arianna was sat. She bowed towards the throne, clutching the scroll to her chest, until she was addressed by the Queen.

“Your Majesty,” Nigel, the royal advisor, interjected after a few seconds of silence. “It would appear you have a visitor.”

“Oh! Cassandra. Thank you, Nigel. Hello, dear.”

Cassandra straightened out her back and smiled. “Hello, Your Majesty. I come bearing another message from my father.”

“Oh, good. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you for a moment. Nigel, if you will?”

Silently, Nigel descended from his position next to the throne, and retrieved the scroll from Cassandra’s hands. 

“Thank you, Nigel,” Arianna smiled, as she was handed the scroll. She tucked it neatly into her lap. “I’ll get back to work in a moment. It’s been a while since your father has sent you here. You’re not getting into trouble, are you, Cassandra?”

Cassandra’s cheeks flushed red. “Oh, no, Your Majesty, I--”

Arianna let out a light chuckle. “I’m only making fun, dear. You’re a good child, that much I know. Have you been alright?”

Cassandra nodded her head. “Yes, thank you, Your Majesty. I am truly indebted to you for all that you do for me. I hope that you have been good.” 

“Oh, don’t mention it. I’m as good as I can be.” Arianna turned her attention to Nigel. “Nigel, do you know where that pesky bag of candy got to? Why don’t you give the child a treat or two?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Once more, Nigel descended the steps, and placed two pieces of neatly-wrapped candy in Cassandra’s hand.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Cassandra bowed slightly.

“You’re welcome. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” Arianna gazed at Cassandra for a moment, before glancing down at the floor. “You’re growing up so fast.” Her voice shifted, suddenly betraying a hint of sadness. “How long have you been with us now, Cassandra?”

“Almost five years,” Cassandra replied. 

“Five. That’s a long time.” Arianna paused. “How has your training with the guards been going?”

“Very well, thank you. I’ve been enjoying it a lot. I’m blessed to have such an opportunity.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” A gentle smile spread over Arianna’s face. “Well, darling, I’d love to chat for longer, but I’m a busy woman.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. I’m sorry if I intruded.”

“Oh, no! Don’t be silly, you’re perfectly fine. It was good to see you, and please send your father my regards.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Cassandra.” 

With that, Arianna shifted her gaze back down towards her paperwork, and Cassandra made her way back to the halls. A heavy feeling clouded Cassandra’s head as she made her way back towards her father’s office, which doubled as her school space. She wished so deeply that she could spend more time with the Queen, that they could bond like mother and daughter. Cassandra sighed, and forced the thought to the back of her head.

No use in dreams that will never come true.

[doof-doofblog]

"Michael Carter!"

Friday 6th November 2020

Hello again folks! Finally after this blog post I'll be completely up to date with EastEnders. I know I was only one or two episodes behind, but after today I'll be completely caught up. Regardless of being in a second lockdown, I will be still be working my every day job as well as doing my blog so I hope you'll all be patient with me, as you have been so tremendously and I can't thank you guys enough. I also just want to say thank you to anyone who has ever liked a post or commented on a post, please know that I do see you and I my heart soars every time I see you hit that "Like" button! It means the absolute world and I can't thank you enough for your ongoing support.

Anyway, enough with the mushy stuff, this week has been such a good week for EastEnders, secrets have been exposed and it's been quite a dramatic one full of secrets and lies and outbursts. I'm sure this episode is going to leave a great start to next week. I'm feeling excited about this one. So without further ado, lets jump right into it. The episode starts pretty much starts from where the previous one finished. Oooo I feel this is going to be brilliant episode between Shirley and Mick, I can just sense it! Shirley is pushing for answers from her son about Frankie. After witnessing a huge block approach Mick and warn him off of contacting Frankie, Shirley's mind is reeling. She's convinced that he's having an affair with her, but then who can blame her, considering he did have a fling with Whitney, but if Mick isn't going to tell her the truth about who she is, what else is she supposed to think?! Mick harshly says to her that even if he was having an affair with Frankie, her wouldn't come to her for help as she has never helped him in his life. I do feel that that was a bit harsh, but as soon as Mick walks away demanding that he doesn't want to hear another word from his Mum, she simply just says "Okay, I'll go and have a chat with Linda!" - now THAT stops him in his tracks! We all know that she means she'll tell Linda he's having an affair, and now that would make the situation even more awkward wouldn't it?!

Above the undertakers, in their flat, Rainie is still packing her stuff after telling Stuart she's leaving him. Of course something tells me she doesn't mean it, she just perhaps feels she needs to get away after realising she was never actually pregnant. Stuart can't understand and is desperate to stop her. He tells her that it doesn't make sense as they were both looking forward to the future with their baby. It's then that Rainie reveals to Stuart, not the full truth, but that she lost the baby in the accident, there is no baby anymore. Stuart can't believe what he is hearing, he appears absolutely devastated by the news. To me, it feels that Rainie is kind of making an excuse to leave, he does not smother her at all - Stuart has been the only person to ever show her true love. I know it sounds silly but I do think that Stuart and Rainie are meant to be together, they make the perfect couple and it was just wonderful how fate brought them together. Two lost souls who everyone looked down on, found company, solace and love with each other. He's shocked to hear that his wife was happy when the nurse told her about the baby, she is absolutely lying to herself and Stuart though, is she doing this because she doesn't want to hurt him and tell him the truth, being cruel to be kind, I really can't tell.

Returning to Mick and Shirley, Mick comes up with the explanation to his Mum that he was trying to get in touch with Frankie, for Katy. He tries to explain that Frankie had gone missing and he was trying to help because he felt he owed her Mum. But something doesn't make sense. Why would Mick do that for someone he hasn't seen or heard from for over 30 years?! It's then that Mick makes the awful dig at his Mum that Katy was the one who brought him up and did his Mum's job for her. Shirley is slowly starting to break, she has been trying to make it up to her son ever since she put him into care and no matter what she does, she feels it's just not enough. What else can she do? She looked after the pub and Linda and even went to prison for her son, but Mick just can't seem to forgive his Mother. We know that deep deep down, he feels she is to blame for his sexual abuse whilst in care, as if wouldn't have happened if she hadn't given him up. But of course, Shirley would never known it was happening, the only one that is to blame here is Katy. Shirley tells her son that something about Frankie is important to him, he has been speaking to him like dirt for weeks and it's now time that he needs to tell her truth!

Oh, I feel this episode is going to be completely focusing on these 4 characters, Mick, Shirley, Stuart and Rainie! Literally a 4-way episode between these incredible characters. Returning to Stuart and Rainie, Stuart is stopping his wife from leaving the apartment, literally standing in the doorway. Stuart is adamant that his wife is lying about not being happy. He knows full well that she is only saying that because he thinks she's lost the baby. What Stuart says next is completely and utterly true and very touching, and quite frankly, I believe what he's saying - they belong together like a jigsaw, they are actually meant to be together, its as if fate writ it in the stars for them. As Rainie continues to deny that what Stuart is saying is true, Stuart can be seen getting angrier and angrier, he starts to blame Keegan for the loss of their baby. He storms out of the flat and across the Square, Rainie following telling him not to take it out on Keegan, but it falls on deaf ears as Stuart bangs and hollers for Keegan at the front door. Rainie is pleading for her husband to stop, but Stuart says he wants to hurt Keegan as he's the one who's caused them to lose their baby, but then Rainie shouts out the devastating bombshell that there never was a baby, she completely breaks down as she finally admits the truth. Now I just want to comment on the amazing camera work during this split second, Stuart approaches his wife to hug her and console her, but Rainie lashes out and tells him not to touch her. I want to comment on the camera work and angle, of course EastEnders actors haven't been able to have close contact with each other due to the Covid-19 pandemic, did they use a stunt double for when Rainie slapped Stuart? I believe I read somewhere that cast are working with people from their own households to step in to do the up-close shots, I could be wrong though however. But I just wanted to say the camera work on that slap upon Stuart was very very clever!

Back at the Atkins household, Mick is searching for alcohol in Gray's cupboards. I feel like this is a very important scene, this is where Mick is telling his Mum exactly how his life was when he was being brought up in care. As they sit down at the table, Shirley listens to everything her son has got to say, she asks why Katy is so important to Mick, after so many years of not seeing her or being in contact with her? Mick begins to explain that he was the one who was always being picked on by other kids in the care home, but that Katy was the only one who looked out for him, as he describes it, she found something in him, potential maybe - something special? She'd feed him information about other children in the care home, even though that it was against the rules, she put her job on the line for him. To me, he's describing the act of being groomed. She groomed him while he was in child care, which must've let him to trust her, and feel like he was a somebody, which she took advantage of and ended up sexually abusing him, but of course being groomed, he wouldn't have seen it that way. He would've thought that she liked him, when actual fact it was something much more darker, which is what he's having to come to terms with. Of course whilst Mick is describing how amazing Katy had been towards him, Shirley is teary - does she maybe feel that it should've been her bringing her son up? Does she feel guilty for putting him into care? Maybe she feels a sense of jealousy towards Katy, thinking she gave him the upbringing that she never could, and that is why Mick has been so cold towards her lately?

Back at their apartment, Rainie explains to her husband what has happened and what the nurse has told her, that she has actually suffered the symptoms of a phantom pregnancy. She's had all the signs of pregnancy, missed periods, bloating and sickness, and her mind has tricked her body into thinking it's pregnant, when sadly there was no baby at all. Stuart is trying to get his head around what he's being told. He asks whether she took a pregnancy test, and Rainie confirms she did, however there are times that if you leave the test too long it can give a false positive reading. I am feeling absolutely devastated for the couple right now, this is really tugging at my heartstrings, it's making me well up. How Rainie states that she doesn't deserve a happily-ever-after just because of the bad mistakes she's made in the past, I felt like shouting at the TV screen "YES YOU DO!" everyone deserves to turn their life around and live happily, everyone deserves happiness and to have a family. Rainie feels broken and devastated, also because she knew how much her husband wanted their baby. Stuart pleads to his wife to let him help her, let him in and together they will get through this. Rainie breaks down into tears as she flees to their bedroom. My heart is totally breaking for the both of them.

Once again, returning to Mick and Shirley, they are sit sat at the same table discussing Katy. Shirley is fishing for more information on Katy and his upbringing. However, the discussion takes a nasty turn when Mick confesses to sneaking out of the care home just to go and see her. Something instantly doesn't feel right to Shirley, why is Katy having him sneak out when she should've really been looking after him. Mick then also admits to her giving him alcohol and getting him drunk, now that really doesn't sit well with Shirley! Why is she getting him drunk at such a young age? As Shirley starts to voice her opinion on Katy, Mick lashes out at his Mum. Warning her not to talk about Katy in such a way, how dare she! Once again, he points out that Katy was the one who was there for him, she was the one who didn't abandon him! He shakes the table violently, causing Shirley to jump in her seat and feeling his rage eating him up inside him, he leaves the Atkins house, leaving Shirley teary once again.

Returning to the undertaker's apartment, Stuart quietly walks into the bedroom to find Rainie asleep on the bed. As he goes to look out of the window, Rainie softly wakes, surprised to see her husband still with her. But of course he would be, why wouldn't he?! The next section of speech from Stuart is very interesting, it's made me think of something which I will explain in just a moment, he mentions his time in care - being told he'll always be the wrong-un, he'll never be loved. Now hear me out, Mick has also been speaking about his time in care, their stories being quite similar, being told they would be the wrong-uns, be the troublesome child ... am I right in thinking that Mick and Stuart were in care together? What if there was a huge twist in the story here, and that Frankie was in actual fact Stuart's daughter?! What if Frankie has mistaken the identity of her Father and thought it was Mick when in actual fact, her Father is Stuart? Just putting it out there - of course I might be jumping the gun and I could be completely wrong, but an interesting turn of events that would be!!! Anyway, back to the plot at hand, Stuart reveals to his wife that she was the one who actually saved him and as Rainie slowly lifts herself up, Stuart rummages for something under the bed. Eventually he pulls out a small cardboard box and hands it over to his wife, she takes a little look inside and pulls out a handful of small receipts and Stuart reveals he's been keeping a little box of trinkets of everything they've done together. (Which is incredibly romantic!) Rainie is visibly touched and informs her husband that no one has ever done anything so nice for her before, Stuart comforts his wife and tells her that no matter what they will face their demons as a family, whether that means it'll just be the two of them to which Rainie agrees, they gives each other a smile and Stuart simply asks his wife one little question, "Cuppa?" ... Absolutely wonderful script writing I have to say, this episode has completely blown me away!

Mick has finally returned to his own apartment, the buzzer is heard and he lets the person in. His Mum appears from the stairs and enters the room. Mick is very blunt with his Mother and just simply asks her straight out, what does she want. I feel sorry for Shirley here, after everything he has told her about Katy, maybe she has misunderstood. It had sounded as if Mick has been desperate to get in touch with her, wanting to see her. Shirley confesses that Tina had an emergency number for Katy on Frankie's employee form. She reveals that she actually gone and given Katy a call, saying that Mick might need to see her. Mick is absolutely mortified, he can't believe what he's hearing. I do feel sorry for Shirley as she is trying her absolute best to help her son, unfortunately she's only gone and called his abuser up and asked her to come and see him. Mick demands his Mum leaves the apartment immediately, he yells at her to leave, leaving his Mum once again in tears - in her mind, she's done nothing wrong and just simply trying to help her son. How could she have been more wrong?!

Oh the final scene between Stuart and Rainie is absolutely beautiful, Stuart puts together a nice cup of tea and bowl of ice cream and ketchup for them both as they watch a movie on the sofa together. Rainie is dressed up in her pyjamas as she makes herself comfortable, eating her bowl of ice cream and ketchup. The camera turns to Stuart and he has a huge smile on his face, these two are so adorable I can't stand it! Interesting fact:- Tanya Franks did actually eat ice cream and ketchup together, just so she would feel more in character - what an absolute trooper!

The final scene  of this episode, Mick is slowly walking across the Square, in the background we see a black cab drive around the gardens. As Mick walks through we hear the car slowly pull up and a female voice thanks the cab driver. Suddenly a woman with long brunette hair walks towards him and says his full name, Mick turns to see Katy, the one person he has been dreading to see. What is going to happen now she has rocked up on the Square?!

I just want to say what an absolutely fantastic episode this has been, the performances from Danny Dyer, Linda Henry, Ricky Champ and Tanya Franks have been bloody incredible! I can't applaud them enough, fantastic script writing also. This has truly been the highlights of this week for sure. But now Katy has arrived on the Square, does this mean the identity of Frankie's father will be revealed? Will we find out more about Frankie, Mick's childhood in care and who Katy is?! I hope you've all enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing about this episode. If you wish to share any opinions or thoughts on this episode please feel free to leave a comment or message me, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Enjoy the rest of your weekend everyone and I'll be back very soon. Love you all xXx

[nighting-gale17]

If it’s not pushy, prompt wise I really really loved your werewolf fic that you started! Honestly anything more of that would make me soft. PS you’re #writergoals

Ahhh I’m so glad you liked it! Honestly, I got such positive feedback from that fic it really surprised me. So here’s part 2!!!! 

As always, send in your prompts :) I love writing the stuff you guys send me!

Here’s Part 1

He saw the signs but he ignored it.

It was like seeing his sister again ripped open the scabbed over wound in his heart. The ache in the center of his chest seemed heavier than usual and the loneliness he often found easy to ignore was insistent on demanding his attention. It smothered him. It made him struggle for every breath—wolves couldn’t cry and Buck hadn’t been human in so long he wasn’t sure he remembered how. So instead, at night, when the half-moon was at its peak, he howled out his pain and misery.

Buck spent several days hiding from her pack. He was angry at his sister—he still believed she abandoned him on that day, allowing that monster to completely ruin any semblance of normalcy the two of them had desperately tried to obtain without a pack. And now she was pregnant with his child. It’s been around twenty years—how many more of his children had she had in that time?

It was difficult for him to stay away for too long. The fragile, tentative bond he had created with Christopher was the closest he’s had to a pack bond for a long, long time and when he felt it tugging him towards the boy he couldn’t ignore it. 

He slunk silently through the undergrowth near the edge of the Pack’s territory, his ears up and alert as he looked around for Christopher. He could tell the young pup was nearby, the excitement through the bond was practically impossible to ignore. He scanned the surrounding area, his eyes landing on two figures standing and talking quietly while Christopher played around in a shallow creek.

He sniffed the air, his ears flattening nervously against his head when he recognized the scent of Christopher’s father Eddie, and the other man, who Buck could tell was the Alpha just by the raw power he was radiating even from this distance.

The man’s presence made Buck nervous, and he almost turned tail and ran in the other direction if it hadn’t been for Christopher perking up, apparently sensing he was close. He yipped into the air, circling Eddie and the Alpha, bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt.

Slowly, Buck slinked out of the undergrowth. He was still wary around the Alpha, but he didn’t see or smell Maddie’s presence anywhere and he supposed that would have to do for right now. He let out a huff to announce his presence a few feet away, tail swinging uneasily behind him.

Bucky! Christopher’s voice in his head was a welcoming surprise as the little pup barreled towards him as fast as his feet would carry him. You came!

I promised, didn’t I, buddy? Buck answered him, nuzzling the top of his head and bumping their noses against each other affectionately. He wasn’t sure he would ever get over how odd it was to speak with someone again—it had been so long.

“We weren’t sure you would come this time,” Eddie said as he walked towards them. His hazel eyes glimmered curiosity and— something else Buck wasn’t sure. “Maddie—” he cut himself off when Buck snarled lowly at the name, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“Hey, enough of that,” The Alpha warned, his eyes flashing red and a frown forming on his face as he stepped up next to Eddie.

Buck abruptly stopped and looked away, his ears flattening against his skull in a small sign of how uncomfortable he was. The Alpha made panic claw at his chest and he had to fight against the instinct to run away again. He tried to remind himself that this Alpha wasn’t him but—it was difficult.

Eddie cleared his throat. “She told us about what happened. She wanted us to tell you that she’s not with him anymore.”

Too little too late, Buck thought to himself bitterly, sitting down on his haunches and huffing. He flicked his tail back and forth, absently entertaining Christopher while his stare flicked back forth from Eddie to the Alpha.

“Why won’t you change back?” Eddie asked, his annoyance obvious. “It’s difficult for us to talk to you like this.”

I’ve already told you that I can’t, Buck muttered to himself, a low growl leaving his throat.

Christopher must have been reiterating his words because he saw Eddie’s frown deepen from annoyance to concern. “You said that last time. I’ve never heard of a wolf who couldn’t change.”

“I have.” The Alpha spoke, looking at Buck with an intense gaze that wasn’t hostile, but still made Buck shift uncomfortably underneath the weight of his stare. “Omegas traditionally struggle to maintain their hold on their humanity without the bond a Pack provides. If Buck has been Packless for as long as Maddie claims, that would be why he can’t change back.”

Buck didn’t know that. God, there was so much that he didn’t know. He just assumed that since Maddie left—since the emptiness took up the spot where the bond used to be—he’d never had any need to be human and had just altogether forgotten how.

It never occurred to him how lost in his wolf he had gotten.

Bucky can join our Pack! Christopher chirped, momentarily distracted from his battle with Buck’s tail.

Buck felt all of the breath leave his body at once and his brain seemed to freeze at the suggestion. Christopher’s declaration seemed eager and genuine; he had no idea the weight his words held as he went back to chasing Buck’s tail.

Being a part of a Pack… it was a hopeless dream Buck had been chasing since he was a pup. he’d always dreamed about having a large Pack to take care of him and Maddie— they’d always have enough food every night and they would never have to go to bed cold because they would have an entire Pack keeping them warm. They wouldn’t have to live in fear every day that a larger predator would find them and hunt them down because they were too young, too weak to protect themselves.

He’d always dreamed about having siblings to chase after and play with when he was lonely because Maddie was out hunting for them. Buck longed for the safety and protection that came with Pack. 

But that’s all it was—a dream.

He had no idea how real Pack dynamics work. The only Packs he had ever encountered had been terrifying and cruel to him because of his omega status—he wasn’t a part of a Pack and it was something they could smell on him. He knew he would never belong. The idea of joining a Pack was thrilling and terrifying, yet the only reason he didn’t run away again was because of oblivious Christopher chasing his tail.

“He did save Christopher, and they’ve already bonded, Bobby,” Eddie murmured to his Alpha, glancing over at the older man. “And Maddie has been desperate to get him back.”

The Alpha, Bobby, looked thoughtful as he considered this. It was a big deal, Buck knew, to accept an outsider into a Pack. There was never a guarantee that they would fit within the Pack dynamic or be trusted by the rest of the wolves. No one had ever wanted Buck to join their Pack—no matter how many times as a pup he had tried and begged and failed. He wasn’t good enough, he accepted that, which is why he was shocked when he heard Bobby’s next words.

“If he wants to, I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” Bobby said, smiling a little at the shocked look on Buck’s face. “Your sister is our family, so you’re our family too.”

Buck pawed anxiously at the ground, trying to dispel some of the irrational panic he felt. His indecision should be proof enough he was too broken to cohesively join a Pack—what kind of wolf balked at the chance to join such a large, welcoming Pack? He felt his tail instinctively tuck slightly between his legs as he lowered his head. He was just—

He was scared.

Christopher whined a little at his sudden drop in mood and walked around Buck to nudge his little nose against the side of Buck’s mouth. Why are you scared?

Buck licked the top of Christopher’s head comfortingly. I’ve never been in a Pack before, baby. I’m just scared they won’t like me when I make mistakes.

That’s silly. Christopher pawed at the edge of his snout. Daddy says everyone makes mistakes and that we just have to do better next time.

Your Daddy sounds really smart. Buck rumbled, glancing up briefly at Eddie and Bobby, who were watching them curiously, before turning his attention back to Christopher. He wished he had the boy’s blind faith in the world. But I’m not sure, buddy.

Christopher stared up at him with those round, blue eyes, his head tilted slightly in concentration before he let out a yip of excitement. What if you just stay for a little while? And if you like it, you can stay forever! 

Buck hesitated, the anxiety swirling around in his chest when Christopher turned around to Eddie and Bobby and presumably told them the same thing.

“If that would make Buck feel better, we could work with that.” Bobby agreed a small smile on his face when Christopher yipped again, his tail swinging excitedly from side to side as he stared up at buck with pleading blue eyes. 

Buck thought about before he found Christopher—the lonely days and nights, the cold winters by himself, the terror of being chased from his home by other Packs or predators he was too weak to stop alone. Then looked down at Christopher and saw those pleading eyes, felt the small blossom of warmth his bond with the pup took up in the vast hole in his heart.

He wanted to feel whole again. He craved it—more than anything. More than his mixed feelings towards his sister, more than his fear of Alphas. He wanted a home. He wanted to belong.

He wanted a family.

Okay. Buck agreed, leaning down to nuzzle the top of Christopher’s head. I’ll give it a try.

[lavender-rebellion]

The Reality of Existence  Chapter one

Masterpost

AO3 Link

Ships: Analogical and Royality

Description: "Thomas looked around his living room and felt a stone in his gut. He had four freshly human sides before him. Four human, terrified, grown adult men who had never lived a day in the real world. Four men who didn’t legally exist, permanently in reality. They were in his care now, and that dormant panic made itself known once more.“ A story about learning to live and learning to love. But also about being roommates, first jobs, being an adult, and that friendship really is the strongest force on earth. They all have things to teach and things to learn, but that’s part of being human. (They have to learn how to do that too, though)

TW for a panic attack and what can be seen as depression symptoms.

Thomas closed the door noisily behind him, letting out a heavy sigh and quickly making his way over in front of his TV, the familiar spot lending him some comfort and he could feel most of the anxious energy fall from his shoulders. He took a moment to take in the new perspective of his living room the spot gave him, before rolling his shoulder and finding the threads inside him. Thomas tugged at the one thrumming with more nervous energy than usual, watching Virgil appear on the stairs nearly immediately. Seems he was waiting for him, which was fair considering that Thomas had been thinking of this all day.

“It’s bad.” Virgil agreed quickly, wrapped up tight in his hoodie with darker bags than usual. Thomas still wasn’t sure if they were natural or makeup, and Virgil always dodged the question. Honestly, he didn’t know which one was more troubling, if Virgil apparently hadn’t gotten a good days sleep ever or if he thought it was a good fashion choice. Speaking of bad fashion choices…

“I knew it, they hated it!” He despaired, running a hand through his hair. Virgil nodded solemnly.

“There is an unusual amount of icky-sticky energy in here.” Patton rose up, hands on his hips. “If I didn’t know better I’d think your name was Vicky!”

Thomas let out a small chuckle at the Fairly Odd Parents joke because while it wasn’t Patton’s best it was clear that he was trying to cheer him up. Virgil sent a tense smile at the other side, who seemed to pick up on the mood and clapped his hands together.

“Alright then, what’s the problem, kiddo? I’ve got my listening ears on and I’m ready to ear you out!”

“It’s his new shirt!” Virgil chimed in, gesturing. Patton looked confused.

“My friends hated it!” Thomas clarified, “I looked awful all day, and they kept sneaking looks at it with this look on their face..”

“Thomas have we not already gone over your cognitive distortions? It was only a few months ago, surely you remember?” Logan rose up, flipping through a planner. He looked up to give Thomas a disapproving look, before returning Patton’s wave and sharing a smile with Virgil.

“Well yeah, but this is different.” Thomas insists, feeling a little silly but mostly like he needs to change his name and go into hiding.

“Look, Thomas, there is only one option and you know it. It’s time to move away to a remote village and become a hermit, never showing your face again.” Virgil cut in, chopping his hands down to emphasize his point. He nodded along, crossing his arms and wondering how long it would take to pack up his entire house and buy a new one. One without internet access, he couldn’t ever go online again.

“Uhhhh….” Patton looked up at Virgil dubiously. Logan shot him a similar look.

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, is it not? We can’t just go into hiding over a bad ‘look’.”

“Watch me.”

“What’s wrong with his shirt, again? I’m lost.” Patton asked.

“And why are you reacting so strongly to this, it’s hardly the worst thing you’ve worn out of the house,” Logan added, and Thomas clutched at his chest, offended. What could he possibly be talking about, and why was he so quick to remember it? Was it recent? Had Thomas just been walking out of his house looking like he got dressed in the dark for ages?

“Not helping, Lo!” Virgil ran his hands over his face, dark bags still perfect afterward which lent weight towards the natural theory..what were they arguing about again? “Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is that Thomas looked ridiculous all day and it’s all on camera!”

Oh right, that.

“OH! That’s right, you were filming that collab today weren’t you?” Patton jumped, clapping his hands together again. “How did that go?”

They all looked over at him, disbelieving, before turning back to the conversation.

“Everyone is going to see my stupid shirt and laugh, and screenshots are going to be all over Tumblr and there will be memes-”

“Are you really that worried about a bunch of 13-year-olds making fun of you?” Logan interrupted. Thomas ignored him.

“-and people are going to think I’m silly and then they’re going to realize that I’m a weird 30 year old who records himself talking to himself and posts it on Youtube-”

“Tumblr is not just a bunch of 13-year-olds, there’s plenty of young adults and adult adults. I mean, we’re on Tumblr, and so is Joan.” Virgil argued.

“Plus 13-year-olds are really mean,” Patton whined. Still ignoring them.

“-and they’re going to stop watching my videos which means I’m going to steadily lose money until I’m making none and then I’ll have to get a stuffy desk job-”

“That’s true. It’s like the John Mulaney skit, ‘13-year-olds are the meanest people in the world because they will make fun of you, but in an accurate way’.” Virgil quoted.

Patton gasped, “Oh I love John Mulaney! He is a very funny man.”

“That’s ridiculous, there’s no factual evidence that 13-year-olds are meaner or more observant than any of the ages near them.”

“Clearly you’ve never spoken to a 13-year-old.”

“-and I’ll spend the rest of my days living in a grey, unfulfilling haze where my coworkers make fun of me and send office emails around full of my earliest vines and those awful screenshots-” Ignoring them, just continue ranting.

“We are both sides, I’ve met every 13 year old you have.”

“And you’re still defending them?”

“Yeah, I’m on Virge’s side in this, Logan. 13-year-olds are just cruel.”

“I’m not defending them, I’m simply saying that there’s no logical reason-”

“There’s no logic in pre-teens-”

“Not even a teen- sy bit-”

“-and that will be my life, mockery and the cold confinement of office routine, no friends or boyfriends and I’ll die alone, without even a cat for company because I have this stupid allergy-”

CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP

They all went quiet, echoing the clap and looking over at Roman, who had appeared a second ago while they were bickering.

“How am I supposed to practice my one-man duets if you are all making a racket?” Thomas squinted at the gaudy necklace he was wearing, a giant ruby pendant resting in the center of his chest. While he watched, it flashed a dim red light. Must have been the light catching the gem.

But everyone else glanced at it as well, including Roman. He looked pleasantly surprised.

“I didn’t know it did that. Neat!”

“What on earth are you wearing?” Logan sighed, glaring at the necklace in suspicion.

"Oh, it’s a best friend necklace! The Dragon Witch gave it to me-”

“The Dragon Witch?” Virgil interrupted, looking at him like he was crazy. Roman glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. He placed a hand on his hip and popped it dramatically.

“Yes, the Dragon Witch. We totally patched things up and are now great friends! Honestly, it was super judgy of me to declare her as evil just because she happens to be a dragon and a witch. She can’t help that! And there are good witches and dragons! Like Sabrina, or the characters from Dragon Tails!” Roman argued, waving his hand around. Patton nodded along, looking proud.

“That is so true! That’s so cool of you, Roman! And may I just say it is be- ruby -ful!” He beamed.

“Ayyyyyyy-” Roman pointed at him, looking delighted. Thomas hid his laugh behind his hand.

“That feels ill-advised,” Logan argued, Virgil gesturing at him in agreement, looking baffled. Personally, Thomas didn’t see the problem with it. But they were once again off track, and Thomas’s problem still hadn’t been solved, so he shrugged and decided that there were no real arguments against Virgil’s idea and that must mean it was fine. He turned and moved to grab his suitcases out of the hall closet.

“Maybe you should evaluate why you hate dragons and/or witches because it’s not her problem that you have a bias.” Roman sassed.

“I have no problem with either of those things, I’m simply saying that prior behavior suggests- Thomas where are you going?” Logan cut off, confused. Thomas blinked and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“Gotta pack, so I can become a hermit.”

Logan sighed and adjusted his glasses. “You are not becoming a hermit.”

“I’m not?” “He’s not?”

Logan glared at Virgil and Patton. “No, you aren’t. Thomas, I know you remember our conversation about cognitive distortions so I’m not going to bother rehashing it, and instead let’s get to the root of this problem. Yes, you may have looked silly today, and your friends may or may not have noticed it. Your outfit will certainly be in the video, and others may or may not make fun of it. But we both know that is where it will end, and that it is a minor problem. So why are you making such a big deal about it?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s not like you to make mountains out of mole-hills.”

It was Thomas’s turn to sigh, body slumping out of its tense position. “You’re right- (“I’m always right.”) - I’m overreacting. I’m just worried about Cartoon Therapy.” He admitted.

“That’s the new script you and Joan are working on, right?” Patton wondered.

“Yes! It’s going to be amazing, you are just going to love the therapist, Pat!” Roman gushed.

“But that’s the thing, what if it isn’t amazing? What if it sucks? I’ve never made such a long scripted episode, what if it gets boring or repetitive? What if people don’t like the new characters? I mean it isn’t like I made you guys up, and I don’t write our scripts from scratch-”

“Take a deep breath, Thomas.” Virgil soothed, looking a little frazzled but much more relaxed compared to earlier. Thomas hadn’t even noticed his anxiety ebb into a dull static. He did as he said, sharing a smile with him at the reference.

“Thanks.” He murmured quietly.

“Give yourself some credit, you’ve created characters people have loved before, in much shorter bits. Take your personification of Sleep, for example. He is well-liked and barely fleshed out. I’m sure characters you can take your time establishing will be just as well received.”

“And if you can’t give yourself credit, give some to Joan. We all know they are a creative genius.” Patton added, speaking softly. “The script will be fine, and the characters will be great. All you can do is give your best try when writing, and watch it come to life.”

“For now, distract yourself and allow yourself to calm down. Put on Parks and Recs! It’ll work out.” Roman suggested. Thomas nodded, feeling much calmer than when he came in. He took another deep breath and grinned at his sides.

“Thanks, guys.”

“It was no problem, I a- shirt you.” Patton shot him finger guns and winked, and then-

Just stood there. Thomas’s brow creased in confusion, watching panic slowly bleed into his expression.

“Pat?”

“I-uh,” The others were looking at him in concern now, “I can’t sink out.”

“What?”

“I can’t sink out.” He stressed, and Logan fidgeted with his glasses.

“How is that possible, Patton-”

“I don’t know!” Patton snapped, looking very upset. “I just know I can’t!”

“I can’t either.” Virgil blurted out, his voice layering.

“This is probably nothing. Lets just all take our own deep breaths, close our eyes and focus on the living room.” Logan said, terse. Thomas watched them all do so, fear rising inside of him at an alarming rate. None of them sunk.

“What’s happening?” He asked. They all looked a little crazed, wide eyes darting around.

“I don’t know, this shouldn’t be possible! What could have-” Logan’s head darted up from where it was buried in his hands. “Your necklace!”

Roman jumped, alarmed at the outburst. A lightbulb went on over Thomas’s head.

“It flashed earlier! When you arrived!”

Roman looked even more alarmed, hands going to the chain and frantically yanking it up over his head, tossing it to the ground. There was a split second of relief on all of their faces before the ruby once again lit up, this time with a blinding red light that filled the entire room, too bright to see through. Thomas could hear the sounds of bodies thumping to the floor and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from his eyes.

Four men were crumpled on the floor (and stairs), but they weren’t the men who were there just a minute ago. They were all dressed like his sides, but it wasn’t his face looking back at him. He could feel his breath hitching in his chest, his lungs empty and his chest burning. He sunk to the floor and curled up, sticking his head between his legs. He could fuzzily recognize this as a panic attack, though he had never had one this severe, and clumsily went through tactics he remembered reading when researching Anxiety. It took him a while, but eventually, he was back to being aware. The men were still on his ground.

In Patton’s place was a man with curly blond hair and a scattering of freckles across his rounder cheeks. He was a bit softer all around, and round glasses lay on the ground next to him. Roman had been replaced with a tanner version of him, a face that was similar to Thomas’s, but his hair was a dark ginger and thicker, his swoop larger than usual. He seemed broader than usual as well, but he was crumpled oddly and Thomas couldn’t be sure. Instead of Virgil, there was a slight man with wild purple hair, lightly curling around his face. It looked like there was a suggestion of freckles on his pale skin as well, but he was too far away and the maybe-freckles were light if they were there at all. His makeup -or not?- was gone, replaced with very real eye bags that were much less severe but still noticeable. And not-Logan was, well, tall. Not giant, but he appeared taller than before, with black hair neatly styled out of his face, which also looked much like Thomas’s own. Actually, they appeared like they could be siblings, and not-Logan looked the most like who he should be. Does that make sense? Thomas didn’t really care, he was still panicking.

Not-Patton looked the least like Thomas, with not-Virgil hovering somewhere between him and not-Roman. There was a strong suggestion of Virgil’s features but they were more…delicate somehow. Like a distant relative of Talyn’s and a less distant relative of his. Patton didn’t look much like him, while Roman could be a cousin and  Logan could be his brother. Because that’s who they were, he knew it and he had to stop lying about it. Those were his sides, only they weren’t very side-like at all.

A low groan came from Logan, the body shifting on the floor and pushing up into a sitting position. Thomas froze, looking at the strange frame which suddenly felt like it was sitting much too close to Thomas’s own. He scooted back, tense. Logan blinked the spots from his eyes as well, before freezing. He was looking straight at Patton. Thomas was sure he was just as startled as he was, but then Logan relaxed and leaned back against the wall.

“Oh good, we’re back.” He hummed quietly to himself.

“Uh, what the fuck ?” Thomas blurted, feeling somehow more confused and nervous. Logan nearly jumped into the air, head whipping around to face him, dark blue eyes blinking once more at him. His brow drew down in confusion.

“Thomas? But how did you- maybe the light….no, because we never appear like this with you around…” He muttered. They were both interrupted by movement on the staircase, Virgil righting himself on the steps, holding his head. His face was scrunched tight in discomfort, and Logan’s attention snapped to him.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked Virgil, lowly. Virgil nodded, eyes clearing the last of the light and locking with the other sides.

“Fine, Lo. We’re back then?” He noticed the tight line of Logan’s mouth and suddenly Thomas was staring into green.  Virgil’s eyes aren’t brown anymore, either, a grey-green color replacing the familiar warmth. They narrowed.

“That’s not right…”

“What is going on?!” Thomas asked forcefully. He doesn’t get an answer, Patton stirring by the curtains interrupting them. He fumbled for his glasses, clumsily shoving them back on his face and opening his eyes.

“Well, that sure was a pain in the neck , very ruby of that Dragon Witch if you ask me.” Patton joked, though it lacked humor. Just like the other’s his body went slack when he noticed the others, but straightened as he immediately took note of Thomas. He absentmindedly noticed that Patton’s eyes were a sky blue. “Why are you in our living room?”

“I-what-” Thomas spluttered. Patton’s attention shifted just as fast as it came, and he let out a little gasp when he noticed Roman’s unconscious form.

“I don’t think he’ll be waking up for a couple of minutes, at least. It appears we woke up based on how close we were to the initial blast.” Logan offered, his eyes darting back to Virgil every so often, who was also watching Roman with concern.

“What happened?” Patton asked, distressed, and Thomas could have laughed.

“That’s what I’ve been fucking asking!” He burst out, earning a startled expression from Patton.

“Language.”

“That is the least of our problems, Patton! You all knocked out and you aren’t you and you’re still in my living room and no one is telling me what’s going on so take your language and shove it. ” He snapped, and his sides reeled back in shock. He felt a little hysterical, he might laugh anyway. It was either that or scream, because one of them was climbing up his throat.

“We don’t know what is going on, any more than you do,” Logan said.

“But, you- you look!”

“This is how we appear in the Mind Space. When you manifested us for the first time you did so with an image in your mind, so that’s how we appeared.” Virgil explained carefully, looking wary after Thomas’s outburst. “In fact, we look like the short’s characters you imagined us as, so while some features you seemed aware we had, like glasses, the rest of it wasn’t originally us.”

What? “So I decided your faces and clothes and personalities, and forced it on you?”

“Not quite. Admittedly, we dressed very similarly before manifestation, and our personalities have been ours since we started existing. You’ve always been aware of those things, just like you’ve always known our functions and of our existence.” Logan corrected.

Patton piped up, though he wasn’t meeting Thomas’s eyes. “It’s just part of being a manifester, kiddo. Well, we assume so, there isn’t exactly a guidebook on it.”

He suddenly felt bad about his outburst, the metaphorical wind leaving his metaphorical sails. “I’m sorry, Patton, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. At any of you.”

“It’s fine! We’re all freaking out, I can understand your reaction.” He was warmer this time, and Thomas sighed.

Roman let out a dramatic groan and made to sit up against the TV stand, body swaying unsteadily as he adjusted to being conscious. These eyes were familiar and comforting, even squinting suspiciously at him. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Patton tapped the ground to get his attention and quietly started filling him in on what little had happened, while Logan started looking around the living room.

“Earlier, you said we were still in your living room,” Virgil commented, watching Logan. He nodded, and Logan mirrored it.

“He’s right, this isn’t our living room. The pictures are wrong, and things are displaced. Like, look, your blankets are not on the couch, and my book and our tea are missing from the table.” He pointed out, and the other three glanced around.

“We didn’t sink out.” Patton devastated.

“And we’re in our real forms, which shouldn’t just happen out of the Mind Space,” Virgil added, grave.

“Something is very wrong.” Roman finished.

“Nothing would be wrong if you hadn’t worn a necklace from the Dragon Witch.” Logan pointed out, edgy. Roman looked a mix between guilty, stricken, and offended, and it twisted his face into something that could have been funny outside of the circumstances. Thomas still wanted to laugh, but that might be the shock setting in. Was this shock? He thought for a second and decided it didn’t really matter. But maybe he should get a blanket?

As the sides began some tense arguing, he spotted his phone lying where he dropped it in his panic attack and realized what would help even more than a blanket. He grabbed it and opened up the call feature. (When was the last time he did that, honestly?)

“It was a gift given of good will, I had to wear it! How could I have known she would do this?”

“Maybe because she was the Dragon Witch ?!”

“Listen, just because she’s the only female in the Mind Space doesn’t mean she has to be the villain!”

“No, she’s the villain because she’s evil! ” Virgil argued.

“He has a point though. Why is the only woman in our realm a villain?” Patton offered, hesitant.

“Roman created her. And he accepted the necklace that got us into this mess!”

“Are you saying this is my fault, Virgil?”

“I’m not not saying that.”

“Virgil!”

“What, Patton? I’m not wrong.”

“But you shouldn’t say it..”

“Patton!”

Thomas hung up and clapped to get their attention. They went quiet once more. “Joan is on their way. Maybe they’ll have some ideas on what’s going on.” And they can tell me I’m not going crazy, he thought, but maybe that was preferable to this situation.

For the first time in his memory, they all lapsed into uncomfortable silence, Virgil tossing his hood over his head and withdrawing into himself while Patton wrung his hands, Roman sulked, and Logan fumed. He had never seen them like this, never known them to be this upset, especially with each other. Things have gotten tense, people have gotten upset or argued, but this disconnect? It was new and somewhat frightening. Minutes passed like snails, slow and dragging, leaving a film behind. Maybe that was the shock.

Finally, a knock on the door drew them out of their heads, and Thomas got up to let them in. They were in their pajamas, and it was only then he thought to check the time. Midnight.

“I’m sorry for dragging you out this late.” He said automatically, but Joan waved him off.

“It’s clearly important, and what are best friends for if not traveling across town at midnight when something important happens?” Joan joked, but Thomas could only give him a weak smile. “You said something happened with the sides?”

He gestured them in, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not good. I was just chatting with them after I got home, everything was normal, and then they couldn’t sink out.”

“They couldn’t leave?”

He shook his head, hovering by the door and speaking quietly. No point in causing the arguing to start back up before it was necessary. “Roman came in wearing this necklace the Dragon Witch gave him-”

“The Dragon Witch?”

“Apparently they made up recently. Today, I think, the others didn’t seem to know about it. Anyway, they figured that was what was preventing them from leaving so Roman took it off. But it let out this bright light, completely blinded us. I heard them all fall and when I could see again they were unconscious and in their real forms.” At their look he tried to explain, feeling jittery and uncomfortable. That was the panic. Shock? “They look different in the Mind Space, they said. They’ve never looked like this outside of it, apparently, they actively control the change. They still can’t sink out, and they keep arguing..”

Joan placed a hand on his arm, seeing him start to panic (had he ever stopped, though?) and Thomas lent into the steadying touch. He smiled at them, thankful. Finally, they moved into the living room, where the sides were waiting. If their new appearances startled them, they didn’t react.

“So you guys are stuck.”

“Understatement of the year,” Virgil grumbled, and Thomas gave him a disapproving look.

“Don’t be mean to Joan. They are just trying to help.”

“Sorry.” He looked guilty, but Joan waved him off.

“Everyone is upset and tense, I understand. But arguing isn’t going to help anything so can we leave that for when this really bad thing isn’t happening?”

They all nodded, and Joan clapped their hands. “Alright. So, once again, you’re stuck. You’ve all attempted to sink out after you woke I’m assuming?”

“Yeah. Before I felt a barrier, almost. I didn’t notice it at first but looking back it was definitely there. But now…now I don’t feel anything at all.” Patton answered, looking down at where his hands were fidgeting in his lap.

“It’s like the Mind Space is just gone.” Virgil agreed. Logan messed with his glasses again, looking agitated.

“But that’s not possible, unless Thomas had something severe happen to his brain or…he wasn’t breathing anymore. Clearly, neither of those things have happened.”

“Yeah I haven’t bonked my head recently, and I’m still kicking. I think?”

“You are,” Joan assured him, seeing the distress in his eyes. “So that means you’ve all lost your connection with the Mind Space, most likely. Can you still conjure things, or access any of your Mind powers?”

They all waved their hands around to no avail, looking crazy. Frustration was clear to read in all of their expressions. Joan grimaced.

“And my shadows are gone,” Virgil said, rubbing his thumb under his eye. “I’ve always had them, I don’t..”

“So, no powers, no shadows, no connection to the Mind.” Joan ticked off. “Forced appearances, as well. Thomas,”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“You once mentioned you could feel the connections to them, like strings tying you together. Are those still there?”

Oh. He reached deep into his chest, where the strings he had used to call Virgil had always lied. There was just empty. He couldn’t recall ever feeling this empty. The tightness in his throat returned, and his face fell. A sob burst from his lips. “No. No, they aren’t there anymore. I can’t feel them, I can’t feel you guys.” Tears welled up in his eyes but he didn’t care, struck by the realization. “It’s all empty. I thought that was shock, but..”

Joan looked upset, and he distantly felt bad about bringing them into this, but now he was crying and he couldn’t stop. He was reeled into an embrace, and he went willingly.

“It might be shock, from having the connection broken,” Joan admitted, before looking over his head. “Do you guys still feel..”

It was clear from how they trailed off that the answer was no. They couldn’t feel Thomas anymore, and that wrung another shaking sob from him. It took him a few minutes to gather composure, but eventually, he straightened from the awkward hunched position he had had to make, making a small wince at the wet spot on Joan’s chest. A glance at the other sides showed that he wasn’t the only one crying though. He wiped his eyes.

“So, you have no connection to the Mind, or Thomas. But you’re still corporeal, I can see and hear you. Maybe….you’ve become real people. Somehow.”

Oh. He had been so wrapped up in what had happened, he never stopped to think about what it meant. The others looked just as gobsmacked.

“That’s impossible, though,” Logan whispered, but it was obvious to himself.

“Let’s test it. Have any of you moved from your spots?”

“I’m just so used to not being able it didn’t even occur to me,” Virgil admitted, getting to his feet. He swayed a bit, but didn’t fall. The rest rose as well. Patton took an unsteady step forward, likely stiff from hours sitting, and when he didn’t hit a barrier he took another. Virgil climbed down the stairs to meet him in the middle, and Roman stepped forward too. Patton’s eyes brightened slightly, and he reached for Roman.

“I wonder…” He grabbed Roman’s arm and pulled him into a hug. Roman gasped, eyes going wide, and when Patton pulled back he gave Roman a wobbly smile, face brighter.

“You felt it, right?” He asked, before gesturing Virgil to come closer and pulling him into a hug as well. Virgil let out the same surprised gasp and gripped Patton tight.

“Everything feels like it’s dialed up to, like, 15. Lo, come feel this!” He held out a hand to Logan, who placed his own on top and wove their fingers together. His eyes widened. Patton released Virgil and moved hesitantly in front of Joan.

“May I?” They nodded and suddenly Joan had an armful of Patton, who was beaming like it was Christmas.

“I can touch you,” Joan exclaimed, looking shocked. While they had always been able to see the sides, they had never been able to touch them before. Their hand had always gone right through them, like ghosts.

Thomas looked around his living room and felt a stone in his gut. He had four freshly human sides before him. Four human, terrified, grown adult men who had never lived a day in the real world.

“Is this permanent, do you think?” He asked.

“I think, Logan said haltingly, unsure, “ That we have to assume it is. Go into this with a ‘worst-case scenario’ mindset.”

Four men who didn’t legally exist, permanently in reality. They were in his care now, and that dormant panic made itself known once more. He couldn’t take care of them. He didn’t have the space, let alone the funds. And again, they didn’t legally exist. And how was he going to explain this? Only Joan and Talyn knew he was a manifester!

He caught Virgil’s eye and could tell he was thinking the same thing, saw him work himself into a similar panic.

“How can we live? We don’t exist in the eyes of the government, we have no papers! And without papers, we can’t get jobs! Where will we live? What will we do?” Virgil echoed his earlier thoughts, and Patton’s face fell. Roman was still quiet, arms wrapped around himself and staring at the ground. Logan looked deep in thought, lips moving silently. The tension in the room was back, and suddenly Thomas felt exhausted down to his bones. He just wanted to sleep, and let everything disappear. Just for a little while.

Joan seemed to pick up on this, and as frazzled as they now looked, standing in the center of Thomas’s living room in their pajamas at nearly 1 am, they once again smiled. “It’s late. Let’s order a pizza, I’m sure we’re all hungry, and then call it a night. We aren’t going to get anywhere tonight. Figure it out tomorrow.”

They all sagged, and while Joan quietly ordered they all moved to sit. The sides collapsed, leaning against each other, on one part of the coach while Joan and Thomas sat on the smaller side. He absently thought how lucky he was his couch was too big, but mostly he thought about how comfortable it was, and once again how much he wanted to sleep. There was quiet while they waited for food, but it was born out of exhaustion instead of anger.

Once they started to eat, however, some energy managed to fill them again, and quiet chatter started up. Roman mentioned quietly to Patton how cool it was to have a full sense of taste, while Joan struck up a conversation with Virgil and Logan on living in the Mind Space. He listened to them talk about the bookcase filled with books Thomas has read, about their rooms and the emotions connected, but only when Thomas was with them or they were feeling heightened. Roman chimed in with talk about his Realm filled with creativity and stories, while Patton mentioned the dog they had conjured and kept for a couple of weeks.

By the time the food was gone Thomas was nodding off, but he managed to get up and gather four sets of pajamas, mismatched and some grabbed simply because he didn’t know what would fit them. Like Virgil, who seemed too small for his pants and instead got a pair of boxers he bought a size too small, and Patton who he had to dig out one of his slightly larger shirts for. He wandered back to the living room on autopilot and took them all up to the spare bedroom.

They took the clothes from him and Patton grabbed a bunch of spare blankets, setting up two beds on the floor. They looked as out of it as him, and the chorus of “Goodnight, Thomas”’s were more mumbles than speech. He closed the door behind him and went back down to Joan, who was dozing on the couch.

“Thank you for coming over.” He said softly, “And thank you even more for being so helpful. I couldn’t have made it through tonight without you, and I’ll never be able to express how much it meant to me.”

“Everything is going to be alright, Thomas.” Joan insisted, and he smiled.

“Yeah, it probably will. But would you do me a favor and spend the night, so I know it’s not all some crazy dream tomorrow when I wake up?”

They took the hand he offered and pulled themselves up, giving him a teasing grin.

“What, you thought I was going to leave? It’s nearly 2 am, you owe me a place to sleep, dude.”

They headed sluggishly to bed, and everything else was tomorrow’s Thomas’s problem.

(tagging @strickenwithclairvoyance because they told me to, and they inspired me. Hope you like it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! (Also bold of you to assume there won’t be Deceit because he wasn’t ejected.))

[nightlovechild]

Graveyard pranks - Anxceit

Summary: Dimitri and Virgil both know that in the dark side of the mindscape everything is twisted. Graveyards are a place of comfort. Tormenting your friends means fun. Falling in love...well, that's difficult anywhere.

Warnings: Dark themes, Panic attack, Remus, Arguing with strong language, possible character death, buried alive, character growth

Notes: Deceit’s name is Dimitri

Ominously, The full moon hangs overhead. Accomplishing the opposite of its intended purpose by making the shadows deeper among the headstones and gnarled trees, instead of lighter. But it's all par for the course on this side of the mind.

The wind whistles through the night making the cold creep in under Dimitri's jacket and cape. But the chill doesn't feel perfect for his frame of mind tonight. Nope not one bit.

Dimitri let's his bare hand skim over the curved tops of rough stone headstones. He barely reads the names and dates anymore knowing the landscape all too well. Besides, it's not the occupants that frighten him. It's the events, the laughter, and smiles that are never to occur here again that truly haunt him. 

The graveyard had been a team effort on all of their parts. As Thomas was introduced to spooky Disney graveyards with dancing skeletons and moved onto sinister cinematic cemeteries the place grew more intense and comforting for the dark sides. Remus would keep his creatures here letting them hunt on the fringes of the subconscious. Virgil would stoically sit on every piece of stone that wasn't meant to be sat on while he softly sang along to his music. Dimitri had a much more functional use for the grave plots. He buried the truth here. For every powerful lie to go well, the truth ended up six feet under.

They would play… okay, more like torment each other here in the permeating darkness. Dimitri chuckled to himself as his foot crunched an old mangled pink bow. Bending over, he took his bowler hat off, as he inspected it closer. 

~☆~

"I can't believe you were right. It got all of them to sit there the whole time!" Anxiety laughed for the first time in a long time. Throwing the empty peanut butter jar over top of the iron gate.

"What like it's hard?" Dimitri scoffed as he brushed the excess wolf man fur off of his outfit.  

"Come on! If you weren't scared of them then you've got to be scared of what Rem is going to do?" Anxiety playfully shoved Dee away. Dee's hands flashed out and held the newest dark trait closer. 

"Remus could kill us, burn us alive but my lust for you will never be extinguished." Dee joked as he dipped Anxiety back. Pressing kisses to his exposed neck. Before bringing him back up, a small smirk on his face. The shadows under Anxiety's eyes grew more pronounced with the blush on his cheeks. 

Dimitri sauntered past him playing hard to get. Waiting for the moment his crush ran after him wanting another kiss. 

"Do you really that could happen? Do you think Rem is going to kill us?" Anxiety asked as his footsteps grew shorter, hugging his black on black plaid jacket around his middle. "But like actually kill us? We hurt his babies and then he'll make me watch as he axes you to sashimi bites. Making me eat you then burying me alive with you inside me…" his words rushing together as he escalated. 

"Yes, because Remus is the perfect chef and the world's leading matchmaker. Plus, There's…" Dee was cut off as the night swells with roars and the ground starts to shake. Dee turned back around when he heard plastic sneakers scrambling up stone. Virgil was up and gone before he could finish his sentence out loud "...easier ways of getting me inside of you." 

Dimitri sighed knowing Anxiety wouldn't come back out of hiding for awhile. Might as well enjoy the show. Stepping over to the closest tree, slithering up to find a sturdy branch. 

Alone, He watched from up on high as sixty nine wolf-men stampeded past. Bright pink bows everywhere there was fur still attached. The delicate ribbons matching their fresh poodle style haircuts. Holding his gloved hand over his mouth to muffle his snickering as Remus ran past screaming. 

"Get back here, you non mangy mutts. Daddy must make you filthy and terrible again." 

~☆~

His grin shattered into a grimace. Throwing the old bow down, the silly prank faded to white noise as Dimitri realized where his feet had stopped. His yearning and hatred had lead the snake to their darkest joke yet.

Intricate designs around those fateful words, were starting to fade from constantly being touched. His nails, hard as diamonds, made the head stone's letters turn to gravel as he raked his nails into the grooves. 

~☆~

Dee's throat felt raw from calling Anxiety's name. His feet hurt from walking. His levels of exhaustion had reached new heights. Dimitri had spent all day looking for their little gargoyle. With no luck so far Dimitri gave up as he spotted the graveyard.

'If Anx doesn't want to be found, then I'll never find him.' He thought as he opened the wrought iron gate.

"This has to be the greatest prank ever." Remus called out to Dimitri, waving him closer as the music started to build. 

The beat and lyrics only adding to the maddening glee on Remus' face. Pulling him in close Dimitri became infected with the beat and electric vibe. His feet kicking up the fresh dirt in the air with each move. But as the spinning continued his nausea clears his head.

"Wait. Prank? What prank?" Dimitri shook his head as he questioned Remus' motives for the dance party. 

"Well for this bitch! What did you think I was talking about?" Remus danced off to the side as he started to grind and hump the grave marker. 

"Here lies my beloved: Virgil "Anxiety" Sanders."

Dimitri's vision swam. His stomach rolled. As he read the words and learned his lover's name for the first time. Then he spotted the small metal bell shaking furiously. 

"No!" Dimitri cried clicking his fingers to bring Anx… No, Virgil to the surface. Nothing, the death bell continues to wail and shake. Trying to drop down to him or bring Virgil up yields no results. 

The clang of two shovels falling over grabs his attention. Seizing both of the tools, Dimitri find his second wave of energy. Throwing one Remus' way and starts moving huge piles of loose dirt. But as the creative side starts to do drill team twirls with it instead of digging, Dimitri screams at him.

"Just fucking help! He is our friend! Being dark and being cruel are two different fucking things."

Remus sticks the shovel into the dirt. To lean against as he watches Dimitri dig himself down to his boy-toy. 

"I don't understand why you're freaking out so bad when he is just going to end up back down there anyway." Remus yawns.

"Screw you! Fuck you! How could you?" Dimitri spat out between slinging shovel fulls of dirt over his shoulders and out of the hole. He kept praying to whoever would listen that the bell would keep ringing. The ringing meant Anx...Virgil was still alive down there pulling on the tiny string that lead to the surface. That lead back to life. 

The hollow thud of metal hitting wood greets his ears. Throwing the shovel down, ignoring how the blisters that formed have started bleeding. Dimitri strikes his nails against the cheap plywood as it splinters and breaks apart. Pulling the broken pieces away. 

A gasping sound and Virgil's tear stained face comes into view as the ringing fades like ripples across the mindscape. Virgil aides in his own escape by kicking and punching from the inside as Dimitri tears the pieces away until the terrified side pulls himself up out of his own casket. 

The air is knocked out of Dee as Virgil clutches to him. Arms wrapped around his neck while Virgil's legs are trying and failing to wrap around Dee's body. So he relents and sits on the side of the coffin. Letting Virgil get as close as he needs.

"It's okay. I got you. Never going to let you out of my sight. That demented shit head is never going to touch you again." Dimitri promises as he is rocking Virge and ignoring the strong smell of urine or how fast his shirt is being soaked with tears. 

"Why are making me the bad guy? See my hands are clean." Remus retorts as green slime slides off of his hands and splatters against the ground. "Well except for that. But I had nothing to do with Mayor McAngst ending up in the hole."

"If it wasn't you, then who was it Remus?" 

"You."

"Fuck you! I would never. I've been looking for him all day!" Dimitri screamed back. 

"I don't care. I just want to go home. Take me home, Dee." Virgil whimpers out. 

"Hey, Dimitri tell me do you think of your dilapidated fuck shack as home too? Can you love him like he deserves to be loved?"

"Yes, I love..." Before he can get the lie out Dimitri is pristine, above ground, as the bell is frantically ringing again. 

 Remus starts cackling anew. Rolling on the ground, red in the face as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

Picking up the shovel again, Dimitri finally accepts the truth he was trying to bury. Virgil deserves more. More love and security than what he is capable of. Dimitri wasn't created to love, but to deceive. What true love comes from lying? 

Digging his love free again; Dimitri doesn't answer a single question that Remus hurls his way between giggles. Hauling Virgil and then himself out of the hole. He holds Virgil's passed out body close as he walks him to the other side of the mindscape. Giving into his biggest lie yet. 

"He isn't one of us." 

Burying his heart as the light side takes Virgil away.

~☆~

Deep howls roll through the cemetery marking the time; the witching hour. Stretching his tired bones Dimitri shakes off all of the new memories of Virgil from his mind. Like how well he was thriving and how beautiful he looks in purple. Trying to ignore all of the hate in Virgil's words as he stands with his new family. Trying to repress how he himself was forced by his very nature to respond like a dick. Instead of expressing his truth. Dimitri shook with the injustice of it all with one hand on the head marker of the only empty grave. 

"It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt, isn't that right, my love?"

Lightning cracks over head as the world turns bright in a flash, then is hurled into nothingness. The break of thunder makes the ground shake. Suddenly the wind whips up and surges around him. Dee holds onto his hat with one hand while the other is covering his mouth so he can still breathe. 

Through the roaring wind, a noise was building. Dimitri could hear faint voices like a muffled conversation. Cupping his hand to his ear straining to listen. Dimitri's bowler hat takes flight off of his head. Hair whipping in his eyes, leafs and sticks being carried on the updraft are scraping at his face. Covering his face with both arms he protects himself. The voices turn from chatter then into soul wrenching declarations. 

"I am Veritas, the daemon of truth. Your mouth is blasphemous. Your being an abomination. My scales must be balanced with your scaly head! I have come for my sacrifice!" The voices screeched together as one.

The daemon lorded over him from a top of the mausoleum. Lightning cracked over head again, as it bounded with ease all the way to the top of his beloved's tombstone. 

"Don't even think of running. You can't save yourself. You're carcass will be drug off into the subconscious left to become a lowly function again and only your fleas will mourn you." The daemon brandished a dagger high in the air. 

Dimitri's day of reckoning was here. Screaming from the depths of his essence he turned and fled. His whole body shaking but picking up speed with every foot fall. That is until he could hear laughter as the wind halted. Which made Dimitri wheel around, teeth bared, snake eye glowing bright yellow as his human eye glowed red with murderous intent.. This was the final straw Remus was going to…

"I got you so good!" Virgil laughed as he carefully dabbed at the stage makeup. Trying not to smear it with his happy tears. "You should have seen the look on your face. Fuck, I see why you always stuck around for the aftermath." 

Then the air was knocked out of Virgil's body as Dee's fist connected squarely with his chest. As Virgil's world started to spin, Dimitri's seized the front of his costume, and crushed him to his chest in an embrace. Tugging the half face mask off, Dimitri touched the clean part of his face. Virgil could tell from that look that Dee was making sure it was the surly anxious side himself. Dimitri smiled when Virgil blushed and leaned into his touch. Dee let out an exhilarated sound that he couldn't hold back as the anger drowned in joy. His arms constricting around his former lover's body

"You shouldn't be here." Dee whispered against the side of Virge's neck as he laid the human side of his face against his costume. 

"And you should stop lying to me." Virgil had to lean back to look the deceitful side in the face. Since he was not able to move any other part of his body due to all six arms holding him in place.

The flame of what they were caught in Dimitri's chest as Virgil licked his lips. His pink tongue such a stark contrast to the black lipstick. Dimitri pressed his lips against Virgil's before either of them could think. Lips moving with familiarity, a bite here and a tongue caress there. But the fire was snuffed out as fast as it was built. They couldn't go back. It defeated the purpose of their actions and choices. So Dimitri just enjoyed the smeared lipstick they were probably both sporting now. 

"They're being good to you?" 

"Yeah, it was hard in the beginning. But it's easier, in some ways now." Virgil hugged Dee back then pulled away. Working his way to standing back on his own two feet. 

"Why? How are you here? The barriers have never faulted before." Dimitri asked as his mind recalled many nights were he tried to cross over to the light side without Thomas' permission. It never worked. 

"The truth can't be buried or barred if everyone knows." 

"You told him? Are you...were you cast you out and sent back here?" The anger in Dimitri flared for a whole different reason. 

"No. It's okay. Well, I mean it'll be okay. But for now I can pass through the vale." Virgil threw the hood of his costume over his head and wiggled his fingers.

The snake side of Dee's face smirked as he sat down on a granite slab. The weight of the moment feeling like quicksand. Dimitri didn't have to lie on this side, or speak in riddles. He couldn't waste another minute.

"I'm really sorry. For how I act on the other side,  the lies are as easy as breathing standing in front of Thomas. I'm sorry for how we ended it. I know it's not enough. I should have a speech made up…" Dimitri started to lament as a punch connected to his arm. 

"I figured that out, Pat helped me. You can't build a life off of lies and panic." Virgil pulled the hood back down and started digging through hidden pockets 

"Then will this be the last time you...that you pull a prank in the graveyard?" Dimitri's heart couldn't go to that finite place.

"Not as long as you still have those shavers." Virgil smirked as he pulled out a jar of wolf-man biscuits and a baggie of purple and yellow bows.