#like.. i know he just wants to explain to offer some closure maybe
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[Wyatt flinches as Courtney’s palm collides with his cheek, though realises he should have expected as much]
Courtney: Sorry doesn’t cut it! What the hell is wrong with you?! Wyatt: I don’t know! It’s not like I want to be-… Courtney: You literally have no idea, do you?
Wyatt: I do! I just wanted to explain. Oscar: You’ve got ten seconds before I launch you down those fucking stairs. Wyatt: Uhm-.. what’s his name?
Oscar: Yeah, no. Wyatt: I never would’ve done it if I knew, why didn’t you say anything? Courtney: I didn’t know…
Oscar: It’s fucked up either way! Wyatt: I sent you somewhere you’d be safe on purpose, I-… Courtney: [scoffs] Safe-.. and what about everyone else, tough luck?
Wyatt: That’s not-.. Ash didn’t exactly tell me the whole truth, I thought they’d work for him. Oscar: Come off it, you could’ve guessed as much. Wyatt: I guess I ignored it because-.. well, I won’t bore you with the why; but I know it was wrong.
Oscar: Yet you carried on regardless. Wyatt: I’ve tried to put things right. I came here for your sake, not mine; if you’d let me explain everything. Courtney: [sighs] Half an hour, max.
…
Wyatt: I’m not here for absolution. You started all this; I figured you deserved the whole story, and now you have it. Courtney: I could’ve handled Dale, you shouldn’t have-… Wyatt: You don’t know that, men like him-…
Oscar: Men like you. Wyatt: It’s true that I don’t experience emotion the same as others-.. it makes it easier to do terrible things, but there’s a reason behind every decision I make. I do have morals, they’re just extremely easy to ignore. In the future, I-…
Oscar: [scoffs] The future, as if you’ve got one. Courtney: Oscar, we can’t… [Oscar glares at Wyatt, then Courtney; returning the look, she motions toward the kitchen]
#somnium#sims 4#storytelling#ts4 story#sims story#simblr#oscar finch#courtney mcmahan#robin finch#wyatt shaw#ᓚᘏᗢ#hmmmmmmmmksdjsdk#like.. i know he just wants to explain to offer some closure maybe#but it's too late to backtrack#idk if he realises that#and oscar certainly isn't having any of it#⚆_⚆#also.. he's sitting as FAR away from the cat as possible lmaoo#i split this post up cos idk.. it had a natural pause and it was SO long#stay tuned ig ahah
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NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 5/?
genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.
warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.
word count: +10k?
a/n: IT'S YONGILITY COMEBACK!!!! Haha I'm sorry this took too long to post!! But I wasn’t feeling it y'know? I couldn’t write anyyyyything to my liking, I was like in a block mood:( but here it is. IM SORRY I gotta confess that it faces me the ick when I try to write smut HAHAHHA but some of you asked so i deliver 🙂↔️.
I'm sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 6! One of the reasons this is long af it's because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/ N's life is before they get together! So pls pls don't skip anything I hope you like it!
if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!
When the atmosphere had changed; when the music no longer thumped in their ears and the roar of the engines was left behind, the silence was torturous in the strange scene they found themselves in.
It was rare to see Jung Jaehyun, Wong Lucas, and Mark Lee in the same place these days.
It had been almost a year since they had last properly spoken to Mark, and that last time had not been very pleasant.
Lucas preferred to bury that memory deep in his mind, where he could almost forget it; however, Jaehyun remembered it vividly… he recalled shouting, hurtful words, and maybe even a fight…
And now, being there, in Lucas's house, face to face, felt almost like a dramatic scene. Lucas could feel the strong tension between the two boys in front of him; they had been at his house for quite a while but hadn't said a word since they arrived, and it was making him nervous.
“What do you know and how do you know it?” Jaehyun blurted out harshly, his arms crossed over his chest, staring intently at Mark.
Mark let out a sigh and swallowed slowly.
Jaehyun's gaze was never easy to hold.
Talking about the incident with Winwin and everything that had happened as a result was something that still moved him, and it was hard to find just the right words.
But he had to do it.
Jaehyun needed closure as much as he did.
“After our argument that day, I really needed answers. I couldn’t see what had happened and do nothing,” he began to explain. “The nights were endless for me, I went days without sleeping, the situation with Winwin really affected me… and that’s when I found Qian Kun. He… he’s from China, like Winwin. Right now, he’s not related to any gang, but… he knows a lot of people, here and there, he has a lot of contacts. He told me he would help me find out who sent those people to Winwin’s house.”
“In exchange for what?” Lucas questioned.
“Protection,” Mark answered curtly without looking at either of the two boys in front of him. “Kun fled the gang he was part of in China… he has no support from anyone. Kun knows a lot about many people in that gang, he was one of the youngest members to join. He knows everything about them and thinks they will come looking for him one day… if they aren’t already,” he explained.
Jaehyun kept his gaze fixed on him but now with a hint of confusion.
“Why would you trust someone who fled his gang? You didn’t even know him before, the guy just showed up and offered to find all this information for you?” Jaehyun asked incredulously. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like bullshit to me,” he said to Lucas. “How do we know he isn’t lying?”
“Why should we believe you?” Lucas now questioned.
“There would be no reason for me to lie about this,” Mark clarified while still under the questioning gazes of the boys in front of him. “Kun and I have common interests.”
“What’s Kun’s story?” Lucas asked. “Why did he leave his gang to come to SM City?”
“Is that really necessary?”
“I don’t trust someone who fled their gang,” Jaehyun responded.
Mark sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “People from his gang killed his girlfriend in front of him,” he said shortly.
Lucas and Jaehyun flinched at the thought of the sight Kun must have seen, and they both kept quiet.
“They thought she was a mole. That she was selling whatever type of information she heard from Kun to their rival gang,” Mark continued. “They shot her in front of him. No second thoughts. Nothing… He was going to propose the day after that.”
Jaehyun always knew that gang life came with a lot of risks. He knew there would always be fights, threats, and in the worst-case scenario… he knew death was just around the corner. He knew he was hurt from his friend's accident, but he couldn’t imagine the kind of pain this Kun guy had felt when his girlfriend was killed right in front of him.
To know that the person you loved most… with whom you were committed to building a life together, creating something new; vanished so quickly that you couldn’t even say goodbye. To have imagined a life with that person, only to have any beautiful illusion you created in such a horrible life taken away.
Not even the good moments could be enjoyed while they were part of Neo Zone.
“That’s why he fled,” Mark continued. “The night his girlfriend was killed, Kun left the city, he couldn’t even say goodbye to her. That’s why he knows they are looking for him, they think he’s also selling information,” he finished.
“So…” Lucas cleared his throat.
“So Kun understands what it felt like when I tried to find answers as to why, why they did that to Sicheng's family. And he decided to help me, in exchange for being able to take shelter in my house and for me to provide him protection.”
“That guy is staying at your house?” Jaehyun asked incredulously.
“It’s part of the deal,” Mark replied. “Look guys, what I’m about to tell you is crucial information… and I’m not here to tell you expecting us to do something about it. I just know that you need closure just as much as I did,” he commented as he approached them.
“I don’t need closure,” Jaehyun said. “I need to make them suffer the same way Winwin has been suffering for the past year”
“There’s no way to do that,” Mark assured. “And before anything, I… I really want to apologize to you. Especially to you, Jaehyun.” Mark turned his gaze to the mentioned boy and could notice the coldness in his eyes.
“You blamed me” Jaehyun said with a deep voice. “You put the blame on me” he repeated.
“I was angry, okay? And I know that doesn’t justify anything, but I was hurt and I didn’t what to do” Mark explained.
“So was I! Do you know how many times I couldn’t sleep thinking of your words? How they may be true? How many times I tried to imagine what would have happened if I stayed with Sicheng instead of going to make that delivery? When you put the blame on me, I blamed myself day and night. The three first months I couldn’t even go to see Winwin on the hospital without thinking that was my fault. I was so angry with you, with myself that u didn’t knew if I could kept going… and when I realized that it wasn’t my fault… I told myself that I would do anything to find who did it and that I have to do the same thing to them so they would know how Winwin is feeling every passing day.”
The frustration in Jaehyun's voice was noticeable. Lucas understood his friend; after all, he was the one who had accompanied him throughout that phase. On the day of Winwin's accident, Lucas had actually lost three friends. The first, in the hospital, left to the mercy of the universe; the second, Mark, who decided to take a different path; and the third, Jaehyun, who was never the same after the situation.
Jaehyun had always been a curt person, but when the quartet of friends got together, it was as if a different air hit Jaehyun. When the four of them were together, he could feel how he himself loved joking around with them, maybe forgetting a little about his life in Neo Zone and together imagining what life would be like if their reality weren't real.
But when Mark Lee decided to change his path after blaming him for Winwin's accident, it was as if he had lost the little spark he had within him.
“I know, that’s why I’m apologizing,” murmured Mark.
“Right now, your apologies make no difference,” Jaehyun confessed.
Mark remained silent and nodded slowly, taking a moment to think things through and how the next confession could turn the whole world upside down.
His eyes moved to Jaehyun's neck, where the gang tattoos were visible, then to Lucas's body, where the same tattoo was visible on his upper arm thanks to the sleeveless shirt he wore. After swallowing hard, he could feel the heat in his abdomen, where the same mark was.
It disgusted him.
It disgusted him to think that all this was something they could never erase, in some way, and that the memory of the gang would always be with them, imprinted on their skin with no chance of disappearing.
It was as if it burned his skin.
“I just want to let you know, that after I tell you everything I know, there’s no way you can take matters into your own hands,” Mark warned. “I needed closure, knowing what caused all this might help… and I think you deserve that closure too.”
“Get to the point,” Lucas demanded, crossing his arms.
“It was Sooman,” he blurted out without hesitation. Direct and clear.
Jaehyun might have misheard, “What did you say?”
“The person who caused all this was Sooman,” he repeated firmly.
“What are you talking about? You’re crazy,” Lucas muttered.
While Jaehyun remained silent and processed the words, the image of his boss lingered in his mind. He knew Sooman was capable of many things; he had seen them himself, but there was no way he would do something like that to Sicheng’s family.
Why would he do it? If Winwin’s father was one of his best men? Who offered him more loyalty?
Mark Lee’s words simply didn’t make sense.
“I thought I told you not to mess with this,” Jaehyun threatened through gritted teeth.
“I’m telling the truth!” Mark exclaimed. “It was hard for me to understand at first too, but after going over the matter many times, it made sense.”
“Sense?” Jaehyun asked. “It makes no sense. Sooman can be many things, but why would he do that to my Uncle Dong? He was one of his most loyal men; it would be foolish of him to do something like that.”
“It may be foolish, but for someone with the power Sooman has, it doesn’t matter,” Mark insisted. “And he has enough power to have hidden this for a year.”
“Let’s go,” Jaehyun said, giving Lucas a light pat on the back. “I’m not listening to this guy any longer.”
“No matter how much you try to deny it, this is the truth, Jaehyun.”
“But why would Sooman do something like that?” Lucas now intervened.
“It took me time to understand, but by finding all the threads, I was able to piece it together. This accident isn’t the only thing he’s been responsible for,” Mark explained. “Our Uncle Dong had planned to leave the gang; I don’t know if his plan was to try to get out through Sooman or just flee,” he said. Jaehyun and Lucas looked at him confused, and he continued. “Do you remember that time when we were gathered at Jaehyun’s house and Sicheng asked if, hypothetically speaking, he moved to China, would we make the effort to visit him?”
The two boys nodded.
“Winwin already knew about his father’s plans to leave SM City,” Mark clarified. “Sooman found out about this through Cheol Uk; he thought Uncle Dong was planning a betrayal. After all, he was one of his closest men and knew more information than any of us should know,” he paused. “That led him to where he is now.”
“But why would Uncle Dong want to return to China? He left there to work for Sooman here in SM City, he had a settled life and a high position in the gang,” Lucas questioned. “Why would he leave all that to go back to the place he initially sought to escape from?”
“Uncle Dong found out many things in the last few months before he died,” Mark explained, looking at Jaehyun. “He realized that at any moment, Sooman could do to him what he had done to others…” he paused, swallowing slightly.
“What do you mean?” Jaehyun inquired.
“When Sooman realizes that his best men might turn against him… he thinks it’s easier to just get rid of them,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Because that’s exactly what he did to your dad, Jaehyun.”
“What?”
That word got stuck in his throat. He could barely voice it. He wanted to understand and process what Mark had just said, but it was difficult.
It was difficult because just mentioning his dad, his mind clouded with memories of that night when his father died. He remembers seeing the blood spread all over the floor, remembers the sound of the gunshots deafening his body, and above all, remembers how much that situation changed his life.
The words didn’t process in his mind. He spent years trying to find out who had killed his father, but he took it for granted when Sooman said it had been Busan gang members.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Who did Mark Lee think he was to come with all this?
“You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up,” Jaehyun said with anger as he got closer to Mark and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
“Fuck this shit, Yoonoh, I’m telling you the truth,” Mark spat. “You can’t be all defensive about this shit. What I know is the truth. You wanna know all these years who did that to your pops? Well, I’m telling you, it was fucking Sooman,” Mark said close to him.
Lucas tried to pull Jaehyun back by his shoulder but couldn’t do anything.
“Sooman was the one who ordered the shooting the night you were out with your dad. And if you’re wondering why? It was because he needed to get rid of your father before he gained more power than him… that’s why he took you under his wing… because he knew he could manipulate you and make you work his way… something he couldn’t do with your dad anymore,” Mark said as he felt Jaehyun’s grip loosen on his neck until he could take a few steps back. “Something he couldn’t do with Uncle Dong either.”
Jaehyun looked him directly in the face, and his whole body shivered.
“The night of Winwin’s accident, he wasn’t supposed to be there. The attack was only meant for Uncle Dong… Sooman wanted to do to Winwin the same thing he did to you,” he explained. “That’s why in the first months of treatment, he was supporting us… he wanted to clear his name and not have us suspect him.”
Jaehyun and Lucas remained silent for a minute, then Jaehyun moved furiously and tried to leave the place.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he said through gritted teeth as he tried to head for the door, but Lucas and Mark stopped him.
“I told you I wasn’t going to tell you all this for you to do something stupid,” Mark said. “What will you do? Try to kill him? As soon as you do, they’ll put a bullet in your head.”
“I don’t give a shit; I want them to suffer the same way Winwin has suffered… the same way my father suffered,” Jaehyun explained, feeling a lump in his throat.
He couldn’t allow himself to be weak.
Not when he had discovered what he had been wanting to know for so long.
“Trying to take revenge won’t change things; if anything, it will make them worse,” Lucas said after a while.
“You couldn’t get close to Sooman even if you wanted to; you know you can’t bring him down. It’s you against a hundred other people in the gang,” Mark continued. “You wouldn’t get out alive even if you begged all the saints.”
“Why would you tell me all of this if I couldn’t do shit about it?” Jaehyun asked, breathing deeply.
“Because I know you needed answers… the same way I did,” Mark replied. “Jaehyun, I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you, but please don’t fuck it up,” he asked. “I know you’re a smart guy. Be smart and don’t get in trouble. You got your answers now, be wise with your decisions.”
The boy remained silent and looked at the whole room in front of him.
His head was going to explode if he didn't get out of there immediately. Everything was spinning, as if the moment of realization was eating him alive. He had waited for this for months, but now that he knew everything... what would change?
Now he only wanted to know the best way to take matters into his own hands.
He needed divine justice.
It was as if it were his only goal right now.
Maybe remembering the moment he had lived hours earlier with Winwin finally having a reaction was what made him think more and more about the situation.
But making a rash decision right now would be putting his life on the line.
How much did he value his life to do it?
_______________________________________________
The clock was perhaps about to strike 1:00 am. She wasn't sure. She had stopped checking the time maybe a while ago.
Her mind couldn't stop spinning around the same issue over and over again.
The issue being none other than Jaehyun.
Lying on her bed in the silence of her room, (Y/N) could hear the beats of her heart resonating in her ears.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
She had called Jaehyun maybe fifty times by now, but her phone lay silent on her nightstand.
She wanted to understand everything. She wanted to understand Jaehyun.
But it was so difficult.
Her mind couldn't process all the events and emotions that had happened in just one day... from experiencing Winwin's reaction at the rehabilitation center, to feeling ecstatic in Jaehyun's company, only to have it all fall apart with Mark Lee's arrival.
She wanted to understand but couldn't.
What was it that Mark wanted to talk to Jaehyun about?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Perhaps her heartbeats were drowned out by the knocks on her window because she could barely react when she saw a silhouette outside.
How could Jaehyun dare to do that?
When she could finally react, her body leaped a mile a second from her bed, and when she opened the window, she could see how agitated the boy was, and without thinking twice, she threw herself against him to support him against her chest.
Jaehyun said nothing, just placed his weight on the girl's body.
He knew he had lost when seeking her comfort was necessary to get through this night.
He knew he had lost when he couldn't even finish breaking free from her embrace.
Jaehyun's head would surely explode at any moment. His whole day had been an emotional rollercoaster, everything that had happened was piling up more and more in his mind, but he didn't want to break. He couldn't allow himself to.
One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes.
Perhaps more time had passed while they were in that position, but even though she quite liked the moment, (Y/N) had to end it.
"Come in before someone notices you're here," she murmured, pulling him inside the room.
"Are your parents home?" the boy asked quietly.
"Not yet. They went out for a 'business dinner,' but my dad's guards are still lurking around," she explained, leading him to her bed. After a few minutes of silence, she continued. "Why are you here? What happened with Mark?" she asked quietly.
Without a single word, (Y/N) could see how broken Jaehyun was at that moment.
He didn't even look her in the eyes, his hands barely able to caress hers, and his shoulders were tense.
It was strange to see him like that, and it made her want to know what had happened.
"Right now, you're the only one who can keep me on track," Jaehyun murmured.
(Y/N) swore her heart could break right then and there.
"Jaehyun? What are you talking about? What happened?" she asked, trying to catch his gaze but failing.
Jaehyun sighed. "I really don't want to think about it right now. I don't want to overthink it any more than I already have. I need to block all that out for a moment."
"Jaehyun..." the girl murmured. "I want to understand you."
"Please, not now."
Why was she able to bring out all his vulnerability?
And she didn't even notice when a tear fell onto her hand.
He couldn't cry. Not right now. Not in front of her.
"Jaehyun..."
"Let's not talk about it now," he murmured, placing his hand on the girl's jaw and pressing his lips to hers. "I need to forget."
He didn't know how he got to this point, but he could taste the cherry flavor of the girl's chapstick, mixed with the salty taste of the tear that had run down to his lips.
He didn't even know when the kiss had turned into an unbridled one.
He needed to free himself.
He needed to forget everything.
The girl melted into the kiss. It felt like being in the clouds, feeling Jaehyun's long hands partially caressing her body. Now, she felt familiar with Jaehyun's lips and felt safe with him.
And it felt good to see a different side of Jung Jaehyun's reality.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
(Y/N) felt euphoric when Jaehyun put his hands on her waist and helped her settle into his lap. Her body felt warm; she was sure her cheeks were red, and she believed the color would turn even redder when she let out a small moan feeling Jaehyun underneath her.
She felt a smile on her lips, and then Jaehyun's kisses moved to her neck.
"I don't know how you manage to distract me from anything out there," she said about her neck.
"Jae," she moaned slightly.
"You're gonna make me lose my shit," he said in her lips.
Jaehyun's lips moved to the girl's neck to gently stroke the area, his hands on her waist made the grip deeper and brought her even closer to him. Making her moan again.
"My parents could arrive at any moment," she said, with her head back and her eyes closed. Passing her hands through Jaehyun's hair and playing with it.
Jaehyun removed his lips from the girl's neck and turned to look at her with a loving smile.
"Tell me to stop right now if you want to," he asked with a dazed look while returning his kisses to the girl's neck, leaving them marked there.
The girl tightened her hands on the boy's hair and moaned.
"I need to hear it from your words, beautiful baby," Jaehyun asked.
(Y/N) moved her hands to Jaehyun's jaw and pulled him closer to give him a chaste kiss.
She shook her head and smiled. "I don't want you to stop now or ever," she assured him.
Jaehyun moved his hand to the girl's leg and maneuvered her position until she lay on her back on the bed, with Jaehyun over her and caressing every part of her body.
The pajama shirt that was placed over her torso disappeared after a few seconds, and the words got stuck in her mouth when Jaehyun gently touched her breasts.
She couldn't think of anything other than the man in front of her.
Doing everything. Touching everything. Loving everything.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Jae~ please~" she asked between moans.
"Please, what baby?"
"Please touch me. Anywhere. Just don't stop" she said.
Jaehyun smiled slightly, taking her little short off and leaving her all exposed to Jaehyun's mercy.
A breathy moan escaped her lips when his digits started to make their way towards her sensitive bundle of nerves. (Y/N) whined when he put more pressure in the spot, making her buck her hips towards him, provoking a smile in Jaehyun's face.
And it was then when he coated his middle and index finger with his saliva and slows inserted his fingers into her. She gasped at the stretch and her hands went to take a grab on her sheets not being able to word something out thanks to the incoherent moans she was letting out.
"Yeah baby, keep moaning like that" he asked dumbfounded.
He pulled (Y/N) into a heated kiss while he kept finger-fucked her, keeping his rhythm making her even wetter as every thrust from his fingers was made.
She could swear she could see stars just by the way his fingers entered her every passing second. She is unable to voice a praise for Jaehyun, but she thinks he doesn't care, because it looks like he prefers moans and whines.
"You look to fucked out and it's just been my fingers" he said kissing her neck and then going straight for her breasts.
She tried to adjust her legs more so he can have more accessibility to her entrance and that gives him the green light to keep with everything. So his pace became faster and harder. His fingers were coming in and out reaching a sensitive spot inside of her. Sensitive enough to be close to cumming.
"Fuck, Jae... 's getting too much" she said bucking her hips towards his fingers and the hand that Jaehyun had free was in her abdomen trying to pin her to the bed.
A strangled moan escaped her mouth and the knot in her stomach was getting tighter.
She can barely see the smile Jaehyun had in his face, but when she was so close to cum, he took out his fingers, to lick all of her arousal up and then kissing her.
"You're so pretty" he worded. "Even so dumbfucked like this" he clean the sweat in her forehead while smiling. "I'm gonna make you feel so good"
"Yes, Jae?" She smiled. "Gonna make me feel good?"
"So good baby, you won't be able to word something out"
The heat of the night was making her feel like she was in cloud nine. So that's why her hands sneakily found the waistband of his jeans; tugging the material of the way trying to get a hold of his dick but Jaehyun stopped her grabbing her hand and taking matters in his own hands and taking his jeans off along with his underwear releasing his throbbing cock. (Y/N) hands went straight to palm his dick and draw a line in one of the prominent veins that were situated in his hardness.
"Baby, could you spread those pretty legs for me?" (Y/N) did as she was told so and spread her legs just for Jaehyun be able to position between them. She liked how Jaehyun could be so vocal while she just was a mess under him, Jaehyun dick twitched just at he sight of her being so ready to have him, looking all pretty underneath him and then he didn't waste any more time as he took his cock in his hand to line up his tip in her dripping cunt.
They both let out moans as he pushed forward until she was filled up. His eyes were looking right to the middle of both of them, watching greedy the way his dick disappeared into her entrance. Just as it was made for him to fill up.
"God, Jaehyun...i feel so full" she whined as she rolled her eyes and started letting out messy moans.
"Y'a feel me in there, pretty girl?" He asked as he put his hand on her stomach seeing the bulk that was there.
"Yes Jae! You're so deep"
Hearing that was enough to Jaehyun to lose his mind and pulled his hips back, dragging so slowly his tip along her sensitive walls and then smack his hips, burying his entire girth inside of her cunt with a messy moan.
His pace was like that the next minutes. Reporting his motion over and over again, leaving some kisses here and there while he got a grip in her hips trying to keep her in place when he slammed his cock so deep in her.
Jaehyun was just too pussydrunk that he had to start pound into her sopping cunt to keep him sane. "Gonna fill you up. So hard. You'll only think of me the rest of your life"
"Fuck yes. Want that, want that so bad"
She didn't think Jaehyun could go harder, but she was wrong, because the moment she mouthed that word out, the pace of his hips were insane, slamming so good all the way up to her cervix making her let the most filthiest moans he could ever hear. He reached out her clit with one of her hands and started to play with it to make her cum.
She didn't know how she could last this longer but it was enough when Jaehyun slammed into an specific point that she just lost it. She let out a strangled moan and she gripped his shoulders as her life dependent on it. She saw white flashed light the moment she came, feeling all of her arousal coat Jaehyun's coat as he fucked her drip into her. A couple of thrust more were enough for Jaehyun to release his seed into her, letting a grunt out and steady himself.
"You did such a great job baby" he whispered as he moved himself to lay beside her and embrace her in his arms. He looked to her sleepy eyes and wiped some of her sweat out of her forehead to then let a small kis in there. "Such a pretty baby"
Being too worked out to speak, she rested her head into his chest to fall asleep in his embrace, feeling the sweet kisses Jaehyun was leaving in her head and zoning out.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Possibly now the clock was approaching 4:00 am. Jaehyun hadn't been able to sleep at all.
After the euphoria had subsided from his body... The events of the previous day returned to terrorize his mind.
He lightly caressed (Y/N)'s shoulder as his head spun. What could he do? What would he do? Even with the faint light entering through the window of the room, he could observe the space around him; he swore that the girl's room was three times larger than his own living room. He wanted to take a look around at his surroundings and noticed that everything there was much more expensive than he could ever afford.
The room's atmosphere was far more than he was used to.
Much more than he could fit into.
Realizing all of this in such a short time was like a slap in the face to himself.
Because he never deserved (Y/N), no matter how much he wanted to.
And he didn't want to drag another person into a hole they couldn't escape from.
Mark's words echoed in his head, and Qian Kun's story ended up burning him... Because if he continued with all this... would (Y/N) end up like Kun's girlfriend? Like his father? Like Winwin?
Just thinking about it made him feel an overwhelming urge to vomit.
But what an unjust life.
Didn't he even have the right to love?
Jaehyun couldn't hide his past and erase his present. If he wanted to do it, he had to face it, but... How could he confront Sooman if he couldn't come out of it alive?
How could he say goodbye to what was embracing him right now?
But if he wanted the justice he needed... He had to do it, even if it cost him something precious, he had to do it.
Even so, there was no way he could fulfill anything that (Y/N) wanted.
They didn't live in the same reality, and it wouldn't end well for either of them.
So, giving one last look at the sleeping girl beside him, he managed to get out of bed and gather his things to dress as quietly as possible... walk towards the window and see her one last time before fleeing from there.
No explanation. No farewell.
Not knowing if it was the last time they would meet in life.
And he regretted it so much.
a/n: I hope you liked even though in took me weeeeeeks to post hahaha, love y’all! NOT PROOFREAD!
taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)
taglist: @spicyryujin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @beomgyusonlywife @bts-iris @doejaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr (idk why some of the tags just doesn’t work out! 😔)
If you want to ask me something, feel free to send them here!
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so! I saw him last night. putting this under a read more because it’s gonna be a ramble.
I had such a good time omg. We met for dinner and basically just talked for hours til 2 am and got drunk, it was exactly like it used to be when I was his student. But he’s a lot more open with me now that I’m not, and he said we’re friends, actual friends, and if he says that then I guess I have to believe it.
He’s with a woman now, and although it doesn’t sound like it’s some great affair and he said it’s more of a partnership I wasn’t upset by that. A year ago I would’ve been but now as long as he’s content with it I’m fine with it. Plus he was saying how he had an “almost paternal” worry for me and offered me paternal advice if I ever wanted it. Again, a year ago I would’ve hated it but now it’s just really sweet that he views me like that and I’m glad he cares about me almost like I’m his daughter.
I don’t love him anymore in the way I used to. I knew that the moment I saw him again. It’s not 2022 anymore and I’m not who I was back then and that’s for the best. I do, however, still love him in some way. It’s hard to explain but it’s almost a nostalgic affection and a gladness that he’s in my life. If he asked me to be with him I still would, but it’s not the overwhelming longing that it used to be. I’ll always love him for who he is and what he’s done for me, I know that, but now I’m just happy about that.
I’m glad I got to see him again. He said he’d let me know when he’s back in the area, so maybe I’ll see him again. Either way, I needed the closure. I used to pray to see him one last time and I did and I’m happy, I’m so happy.
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“Welcome Home”
• Chapter 9 of “My First.”
See "My First" Chapter list here: My First Masterlist.
• See My Masterlist here: Lssugaluv's Masterlist.
• Chapter 8 link: "From Closures to New Beginnings."
Contains: Family fluff, worries, feelings, family time.
After the what seemed like a long car drive, you finally arrive to Atsumu’s place. He knew you felt a bit uncomfortable and offered you to stay in the guest room. He asked if it was okay if he can sleep with Benji for the night which you agreed on. You asked to shower and he let you borrow one of his t-shirts to sleep. He got Benji ready for bed, and changed him into his Pjs that you had for him in your bag.
The next morning, you woke up to Atsumu on the phone. "So you're telling me that I have to do a press conference?!" Said the man in a frustrated tone. Minutes later, he knocks on your door and asks to speak with you. "I spoke to my representative and he told me that Akira already broke the news about calling the engagement off. She's going off saying I cheated on her. And she already mentioned the press about you and Benjiro."
Atsumu rests his head on the bed stressed out. He continues with, "now I have to go out and explain the situation. But I don't know if I want too." You grab his hand and try to encourage him. "Obviously you don't have to say everything but I do suggest you to go out there. You don't want to seem like a cheater either." You both smiled at one another. Benji gets up from bed and comes to you and Sumu. "Mama, Papa, I hungry." He says as he rubs his tummy. "Let's make pancakes?" Suggests Atsumu.
You guys all entered the dark kitchen and fix up some pancakes. Atsumu couldn't get enough of how adorable Benji is. He also couldn’t get enough of you in his oversized t-shirt. “If I can wake up every morning to this, it'll be amazing." Atsumu quietly says and you simply smiled.
"Hey so I want to know if you aren't busy today?" You asked as you guys were cleaning up. "No, I have practice today at 4 though." You nod your head and as he asks why. "I have to visit the school board today at 12, to see where I will be placed. And then I have a couple of apartment complexes to view." Atsumu eyes shot up bright. "You want me to go with you?" He asks just like an excited little Benji. You giggled and told him no. "I will like for you to watch Benji. Maybe spend more time with him." He liked your suggestion and agreed.
"If I don't come back by 3 to pick him up, please drop him off at my mom's. I'll let her know since I'm going over to change anyways." He agrees and takes both you and Benji back to your parents. He waited for you to freshen Benji up and get his stuff ready. You handed Sumu the bags of supplies and told him everything he needed to know. "Please if you need anything or have any questions call me Atsumu." He laughed hard at you. "Y/n, I'm not some type of babysitter, I'm his dad. Don't worry, everything will be okay." He tried to help your worries go away. "Oh, do not forget to give him his pain medicine for his arm okay."
You gave Benji plenty of hugs and kisses up until he became annoyed. "Y/n it's okay. He will be in good hands." You look at Atsumu with a worried expression. "It's just. I never leave him alone. I only did but with my sister. This is hard." He gave you a hug and laughed at you. "Look at you being all mama bear. At least I know he has always been in good hands." You smile and wave your good byes.
Okay l/n sama, you will be placed in Inarizaki and work as a counselor there." You were so excited, you right away called Maya to tell her the news. "We need to celebrate!" Says Maya. You girls hang up and you meet up with the realtor. He took you to three different apartments. The first one was nice but it was a bit far from work. You needed something close to work, your parents home, and to a day care. You noticed the realtor on a phone call.
"I actually have another place to show you," you go to a very similar apartment complex building. You guys went to the fourth floor. "What do you think of this?" You did like it but you weren't sure. "It has the city view, it's close to your parents home and work. The day care is about a 10 min drive however." You looked around at the rooms. "It does have great space for my baby and I but it may be too much just for the both of us."
The realtor kept trying to convince you. "Well this place does have a play house where you can take your son. There's a spa, a pool, a gym, and they even have food courts!" You then asked for the pricing. That was when your realtor told you that someone was offering this to you. You heard a knock on the door and saw Atsumu and Benji walk in. "So, what do you think?" Says Atsumu with an amused tone. "I had a feeling you were behind this." You say as you lay a hand on your forehead.
"I'll allow you two to talk." And the realtor steps out. "It's nice but it may be expensive." He smiled at you. "I'll take care of the payments." You obviously refused. "Well, it's mine." And you sat there in confusion. " I bought it yesterday, so I owe mine and this one. Mine is on the 6th floor which is the top flooring here." You simply smiled.
"Look, I wanted you to live with me. But with all this commotion I'm having, I knew it was not a good idea. Plus, I already know you will reject my offer. But please, I want you and Benji to stay close to me." You took his offer and spoke to the realtor. "Sell all of your things in America, you will start fresh here." You thanked him by giving him a hug. Your arms were around his waist while your head rested by his chest. "Welcome home!!"
After thought:
Y/n finally settles in. So far everything is going well for her and Atsumu. They both have been focusing all of their attention on Benji. But what about them two? How far will their relationship go?
See you on the next chapter. 🥹
#haikyu fanfiction#msby atsumu#dilfatsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya#atsumuseries#haikyuu!!#adult atsumu#dad atsumu#baby daddy#mom and dad#fluff#love#atsumu fluff#haikyuu boys#haikyuu fluff
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So I played the final chapter of Asassin’s Creed Valhalla and I have to echo what a lot of people have said on it. It doesn’t feel like it was enough, that all the goodbyes were lack luster, that most people you care about weren’t said goodbye to, it feels more like a setup for Mirage rather than caring about Valhalla, it feels like they were just trying to rush a close to Valhalla, and the ending reason for why Eivor leaves is just dumb.
I’ll start with the goodbyes. So most of them are more used to give a time frame for when Eivor leaves than actually say goodbye to characters. For the fandom there’s a list of people that they would expect to say goodbye to. Who would be on that list? Sigurd, Randvi, Valka, Hytham(if you don’t work for Ubisoft because they hate him), Gunnir, maybe Tove. I assume Villi would be excluded just because of how differing his paths are based on your choice in game so i’m not putting him on the list. Now consider those you do say goodbye to. Guthram, Aelfred, King Harold in Norway, and there’s a non-goodbye with Hytham(though it does give me fodder for Eagle-kissed). And a lot of these they have to spell out how many years it has been since events of the game and that feels like the only purpose. So most of the people you’d want to have an emotional goodbye with you don’t get. Even Hytham’s scene isn’t really a goodbye and it falls sort of flat on actually making it seem like Eivor wasn’t just as callus and dismissive of Hytham as she knows nothing about him and has spent years with him in her clan. I, like plenty of others, found this to just be missing the heart of what people wanted from the final chapter. I wanted to have a time skip, see if Gunnir ever has kids, if Randvi ever travels, If Sigurd is better particularly after the Dawn of Ragnarok DLC seemed to make it seem like he wasn’t, what became of Hytham’s trip and new title which are still never explained and seem like they are historically important to the series over all. I also feel for those that romanced Randvi, she wasn’t even included, though I suspect this is because in the Druid and France DLCs it seemed like they didn’t have the same voice actress and it was noticeable and they wanted to avoid that she still deserved to be more than just mentioned offhandedly.
The lack of emotional heart is why people feel like the last chapter was really just to push Valhalla out the door. It doesn’t feel like a though out end that gave players closure, it seemed to all be a means to an end to stop Eivor’s story and to do the final scene where Basim puts his DNA into the animus decoder to set up Mirage. In a way that feels like a slap in the face. The people that wanted this last chapter were the fans that loved the game and story and to have it be shoved out the door to suit the next game instead of given the care people expected from such a loved game feels insulting.
The end reason for why Eivor leaves also feels sort of...confusing. The idea that after the Valhalla events she hasn’t actually banished Odin from her but instead he’s just still there, being suppressed and for some reason, even though she expressly rejected him and his offer of wisdom she decides she wants to learn from him...for no purpose. She basically is abandoning her clan to go to Vindland and talk to Odin and learn from him for no reason. Because nothing he tells her is ever passed on. It’s stuff that no one knew until Desmond is told it in the Ezio games...but no one knew it until those games. So she abandons her clan to gain knowledge to help no one and do nothing. The last chapter is that, the last chapter, and she runs off alone. So after Dawn of Ragnarok where she says her clan is all that matters and protecting and keeping them safe is all that matters she then just peaces out to not help them any more. There’s no mention of who will lead after her, what will happen to her clan, she just abandons them sort of spitting in the face of the main game. It also seems like lazy writing. Like she just leaves, also in the middle of the night not like after a goodbye feast or something when everyone is drunk and passed out, she just packs up a boat and goes to Lunden to leave from there and it’s just...it feels bad.
Now I’m to the Hytham ranting part. So the part where Eivor converses with Hytham is...it was disappointing as a Hytham fan. It gave you shreds of Eivor being nice to Hytham, complementing him for his compassion and conviction, but it felt so...hollow. Like it was there more because the writers realized that they had basically never really had an Assassin story in Assassin’s Creed Valhalla. Sure you kill the Order but the Creed and the Hidden Ones are never really explored. Eivor is offered to join the Hidden Ones but at no point has Hytham and Eivor talked about what his creed means and what he’s really asking her to join. The entire scene comes off as if the writers just realized they never had Eivor even say anything about the creed or her views of it so her goodbye to Hytham is more a confirmation that the Creed is good without ever even addressing what it is. Hytham was never given an arc, not with Eivor or with Basim which makes Eivor finding out trivial facts about Hytham like that he was orphaned at a young age sort of a back handed slap instead of a nice moment. Like if Eivor cared about Hytham at all why is she just learning, like a decade after meeting him, that he has no family because he’s an orphan like her? It makes her come off as uncaring toward a person she worked with and is a part of her clan as Basim was and he clearly didn’t care about Hytham. He dropped his ass the moment he got to England and never talked to the man again. And apparently a decade later Eivor has never really talked to Hytham either. Really makes her claim that she cares about him after she turns down the offer to join the Hidden ones seem like really empty words.
It personally annoys me that they really had like a document saying he was going to be promoted and they bring up in the over world that Edward named Haythem after Hytham but then they just cared so little about the character and assumed no one else would that they have actively just ignored him like an emotionally abusive parent. Was Hytham the first mentor of the English Brotherhood that Edward would eventually lead? It would explain why he named his son after him, but Ubisoft doesn’t give to shits about answering that question. So the scene with him comes off just insulting to those that are his fans. Eivor isn’t talking to Hytham as a person, she’s talking to him as just someone that follows the Creed. She basically is just praising the Creed because it is in service of all people, not just a select few that a person closely cares about. But in the end she’s not talking to Hytham as Hytham. If she was talking to Hytham why not mention how even with his injury he is still so dedicated to doing his part? Why not mention about how he’s trying to train others to allow them the agency to protect from the Order as well? Why not mention that she believes he is going to build something that will keep her people and England safe? She doesn’t because she’s not talking to Hytham. And to see Hytham, the character, so erased is aggravating when the scene should have been a heartfelt goodbye.
I just consider if you were a new player and Valhalla was your first AC game. The Hidden Ones would exist but you’d have no understanding of them, or what they believe in, or really what their place is in the world. You get some feeling for what they’re fighting, stopping the order and all, but you don’t get any actual Hidden Ones that explains why the Assassin’s are liked by fans. Why the Creed is so key to the series. Because you’re never told the Creed at all. Fuck Hytham doesn’t even have a like document in his hut that’s like a recruitment sheet that like lays out the Creed so new players can learn it.
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That and Christopher Nolan confirmed it was. A couple things allude to this:
One of them is Robert Fischer looking at Cobb for a second as he passed in the airport because for a second he recognized him. The same way you always know something is familiar from your subconcious, but you can't put your finger on it. What's awesome about this detail is they were actually IN his subconcious so when he sees Cobb he recognizes him in the back of his mind for a minute because he's awake. Cobb can't be asleep at the same time Fischer is awake in the same dream. At least that's how I saw it.
The second is he never saw his childrens' faces the day he left abruptly. He mentions this when he's talking to Ariadne. He says he keeps reliving the same mistake of never seeing their faces because he feels regret and leaves in a hurry. So everytime he dreams he never sees their faces, because he didn't when he was awake in his memories. If he was still living out his memories he wouldn't have seen his childrens' faces in the ending.
The final thing I bring to the table for the sake of not wanting to write an essay is the top spinning. Now, yeah it's kind of open-ended but not really 'cause Christopher Nolan said he really did wake up. But I emphasize this moment because Cobb doesn't wait to see if the top stopped spinning, but rather he forgets about it when he sees his childrens' faces. This is due to two things, one is he probably also realized the reason I stated above, and two, he got to a point where he didn't care if this was a dream or reality...He got to see his kids again. That's all he ever wanted, so why gaf about the top stopping or not when he finally got what he wanted, and he has some evidence that was previously stated above that proves he had reason to believe he was awake anyway.
The top almost stopping, not really, but then maybe, is meant to make you think about the ending and make your own conclusion which what Nolan gives us. Yes, he confirmed Cobb woke up, but like, that doesn't stop us from drawing different conclusions and ideas from the top. Movies are art, they're meant to be interpreted uniquely and viewed in obscure ways, so if we want to believe he did or didn't with the scenes shown to us, then we believe as such.
Aside from all of this, we also can thank Cobb giving up this dream world when he kills Mel as soft evidence as well for the idea that he woke up. Lemme explain, so he killed Mel because he had to let her go. The reason she existed in his mind was due to his regret, sorrow, and refusal to let go of her. When he finally tells her the truth, regardless if she's the real Mel or not, he's also in a way telling his subconcious, because she's a product of his mind. He's in a way reminding him and telling her that they already lived a life together, and it was beautiful. That he made a mistake by experiementing on her, but it happened, and he can't take it back, so he has to let go of the regret in order to return home because otherwise it'll just continue to eat away at him. Him letting go of Mel and reciting the train line REALLY kick this home and make me believe more that he woke up because, why offer him closure if he can't even experience the closure. He lets her go so he can move on, and he does, he gets Saito and they travel back, him a changed man, and everyone else amazed they pulled it off.
Anyway, that's my tedtalk, thanks for coming.
So, I watched Inception, and I can see why everyone was so crazy about it. Really well done!
However, while I can also see why there are long endless debates about whether or not the ending is real, the answer is very simple:
It is real, because I want it to be, and also he deserves to be happy. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
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Has dawn/akari gotten back to sinnoh by this time? Has she found out about Ingo?
Ah, I see Dawn's side of the story is in high demand...
Dawn never expected to see Ingo again, not really. She asked him if he wanted to come with her to the future (she was sure they where from around the same time period), and he declined, not wanting to lose the life he built in Hisui. She understood (maybe she should've confessed that SHE wanted him to go with her, but that would be selfish of her, wouldn't it?) and accepted his answer gracefully, hiding her sadness. (He was perhaps the only one in Hisui to truly understand what she was going through. What it was like to be a stranger in a strange land, where pokemon were seen as monsters rather than friends. He was a drop of familiarity, and perhaps that alone had made him more of a lifeline to her than either of them had realized. Didn’t hurt that he was so kind. Too kind for Hisui, in her opinion....)
(Reader be warned, angst ahead! Includes mentions of character death.)
Dawn went home and readjusted. She was fine, she had survived, she was home. Once she had explained where and when she had been for those five long months, she shelved her Hisui memories. It was all in the past, literally and metaphorically. She just wanted to move on and get back to her life... but the shock of everything she had been to was catching up to her, as was a deep sense of grief at all the friends she’d never get to see again. Dawn came to the conclusion that, perhaps, it would help to know how everyone ended up. Maybe seeing that everyone had gone on to live happy lives would give her a sense of closure that the goodbyes said in Hisui hadn’t.
It took a while, to track down all the life stories, but she found them. She saw the brilliant lives her friends had gone on to live, the feats they achieved and families they had (would it be weird to call up someone’s however-many-greats grandchildren and cite yourself as an old family friend?). Well, she found all stories but one. No matter where she looked, she couldn’t find much more than brief allusions to Ingo. A man who had briefly served as a warden of sneasler, sandwiched between two other sneasler wardens with much longer legacies. Dawn was... confused, but excited. Did this mean Ingo got to go home not long after she did? Could she find him? (Admit how much of a grounding presence he had been for her in Hisui?)
And then she found him.
But not the way she hoped.
He had fallen.
Off a cliff.
Ingo had died, mere months after her departure.
He had fallen off a cliff, died on impact, and his remains were dragged off by wild pokemon before anyone found him. (Or, at least, that’s what the pearl clan concluded, having only found his belongings surrounded by his frantic pokemon at the base of a cliff.)
And so survivors guilt wormed its way into her heart. (She should’ve convinced him to come with her. She shouldn’t have left him in that cruel place.) She knew, rationally, that this wasn’t her fault, but... but it felt like she could’ve prevented it. If she had just pushed a little harder.
Dawn never expected to see Ingo again, not really. She was fine (he wasn’t), she had survived (he hadn’t), she was home (he wasn’t). She would focus on those she had regained-- her mom, her pokemon, her friends; tune out the media circus; politely decline Barry’s offers to go gallivanting after some rumored zoroark in the woods (she had chased after enough pokemon for one life time, thank you); and simply... live. As best she could.
And when she walks down stairs one morning and sees the grainy image of a zoroark wearing an all-too-familiar hat on the television, she does not scream. She does not cry. She calmly calls up Professor Rowan and asks if he needs help researching the new pokemon.
Could she find Ingo? With the help of a man in white with a painfully familiar face, she just might.
#wrong train home au#pokemon legends arceus#pokemon dawn#pokemon akari#ingo#submas#quizzical questions#this basically turned into a drabble#me: yeah I don't plan for this au to be angsty#also me: draws a child crying
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The blonde could remember the shock she'd felt when he told her about the fact that he'd cheated. They'd fought here and there, bickered about the club and her worries. Most of it was because she was frightened that he would get hurt, perhaps jealous that his time was divided, but she'd never expected that it would end with infidelity. Not after all the years they'd been glued at the hip, the way they'd fallen deeply in love as friends and more. It felt like a joke and she'd all but forced him to admit that he was lying. The coldness from him that followed was almost a betrayal on its own. A means to get her to believe, she supposed. What else was she meant to do when she stared at shell of the person she knew and cared about, other than take her things and leave. Days and weeks had gone by with her in bed, hoping he'd come back and plead for her forgiveness. It wouldn't have taken much. Frankly, all she wanted was him despite everything. He never came and she did her best to glue herself back together but it had taken her this long to know that she wasn't over it. There hadn't been any closure to the history they shared. Without that, she would always be stuck here, with this heavy anger clinging to her chest. "I don't know if I should be disappointed or just surprised that I never saw the side of you that you were hiding from me since we were kids."
The Nash she knew wouldn't have ever hurt her. Never would she have done anything to cause him pain either so the idea that this had all happened was still one she had trouble wrapping her head around. Even harder was the mixed signals; from no longer talking, and then to a short conversation and him offering to take care of her in ways that only he could. While she'd ultimately taken the money, their interaction hadn't been good, by any means. The wall was only a bittersweet reminder of how far they were from those days as children. "You've made your decision?" She wanted to laugh but all she could do was cry. It never felt like she had enough tears to cry over him, having wasted so many in the past that she was always surprised that she could continue. "You've made many decisions and none explain keeping that there." He wasn't all to blame. Perhaps she'd pushed him into someone else's arms, maybe she'd broken up with him and he'd taken that as her never wanting to speak to him again. But she'd punished herself enough over it and losing him had been just another consequence. Grabbing the sharpie from him, she took off the cap and moved to the wall but as the tip met the corner of his name, she knew she couldn't. Rather, her first passed through the dry wall a few inches above their names. It ached but it was a welcomed feeling compared to everything else that lived in the pit of her stomach. The black sharpie fell under the table and she slid back, putting much needed distance between them in fear that she would swing at him next.
"I was emotional when I said that. I hadn't talked to you in years." The girl argued even though she'd felt every word she told him that night. Why she'd shown up tonight, that was more complicated. Despite their interaction being bad, she craved more time with him even if it would only break her heart in the end. "Stop," she spoke harshly with her hand up, finger pointed towards him. "Don't you dare make it seem like you were doing me some type of favor by doing what you did. I wasn't a kid and I didn't need you to decide who and what was good for me. I was perfectly safe." At least until he joined the club but she didn't have to say that out loud for him to know. "—Until a few days ago and suddenly you can come and save me from dancing on a pole, right? So where's your rule now, huh? Why am I suddenly not better off and need your help?" The confusion plagued her after feeling small glimpses of him within reach but still he was so far. The confusion of the ease in which he could walk away, or so she felt, because her own emotions were so visible while his were not. "A better conversation than the last, by doing what? Showing off the way that we used to be compared to how we are now? How does that make it any fucking better? You want to reminisce on the good times and then watch me walk away. I guess that it's always been easy for you to do that, but how do you think it affects me? I've always watched you walk away from me. It's always you who leaves. Like everyone else in my life." When they broke up, every time in between then and now. Her back pressed against the wall of his office when he voiced words she hadn't even expected to hear from him again. A slight reminder that things were real once upon a time. "Then why did you do it?! Just tell me." Grabbing a nearby stapler, she impulsive picked it up and tossed it at his head though it missed by a few inches. "You don't need to solve anything but your guilt! I haven't been able to move on since it happened. I've been carrying this confusion and pain. You fucked me up for every single person after you and you refused to even explain it to me. I need to understand it so I can leave you behind!" She found herself screaming, only realizing she'd crossed the office to shove at his chest. "I needed you when my dad died, every other time when my life went to shit but you weren't there! You promised you'd always be there. You disappeared and never looked back and never told me why."
His senses. If only it had been that easy. He would be lying if he hadn't thought about coming clean with the whole ordeal. About not cheating, just wanting to have her back in any way he could. But they were just moments. Nash knew within his soul what he did -yes completely heartbreaking and shattering. It was only a slight inconvenience of what could happen with his involvement. He could not put her at risk. Therefore, any doubt he had - he pushed it harshly down. She was better off without him. So, that decision was final and after all these years he never looked back at it. "Another thing to be disappointed about. I'm sure that list will only go on." He mused, sighing again since her arrival. The most tragic thing was he knew how his presence effected her. Her anger from him and what had transpired between them. Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured. Yes it hurt him too, but no words or actions she could partake against him could damage him more then how much pain it caused her. The toll it took on her through his eyes. Maybe he was naive to think that she would forget him eventually. That he would just be another person that she could laugh about that was from her past. But seeing her again for the second time, well he was just plain ignorant. That their past still was so powerful and meaningful. It was impossible to forget those good times, even when it had been poisoned with most recent bad ones.
"Is there where you call me a coward? If so - have at it." He challenged. The description wouldn't be anything he hadn't thought about himself during the nights where his mind was rampant and feral. Nash was almost shocked upon hearing the footsteps behind him. He wouldn't have put it against her to just leave while she could. Especially with the lack of backstory from his words. Though, upon her seeing it - seemingly enough maybe he was naive again to think this could be a temporary white flag he could throw for them. Nash took the sharpie and shook his head at the suggestion or more like an order. He couldn't blame her. Instead, he put the sharpie down. "If you want to cover it, I won't stop you. But that has to be your decision. I already made mine." This place held so many memories and he knew even if everything was transformed into something fresh, in regards to some aesthetic - he would still have those. But this little doodle represented something that he wasn't ready to quite let go of. Nash had only realized it was still there after cleaning. Boxes had been piled up against that wall so the scribble had been hidden, far back as he could remember. But once he had unloaded and cleared them - it was like he was transported back to that time all over again.
"I'm trying here. You showed up remember? I was more then content with avoiding you. I'm a pro at that. You didn't want to ever see me again. Or am I just imagining our outburst back at the club?" There was sarcasm, but he was almost offended that he was receiving this kind of backlash when he was trying to be kind, or to the best he could considering their dynamic now. "Whether you want to believe me or not I have always cared. Dammit, Abby. I never stopped caring. I just thought you were better off. You deserved way more then what I could provide." His lips trembled, the man just wanted to shield her from everything. He needed her to be safe and he figured the safest she could be was away from him back then. But now, her emotions and all the agony she was conveying - it made his heart ache. The man needed to distance himself from her at that very moment, afraid he would reach out and try to comfort her. But realizing that he could break her even more by that sort of action. He needed to create space also from not pouring his own heart out to her. The truth would not set him free. "I wasn't trying to get any kind of reaction out of you. There are no motives. I am just trying to make this interaction better then our last. You think you're the only one who is hurting? I am too." And he had been. "I hurt you, and I am reminded of that more often then you could ever know." His words genuine but they were strained, like he was holding something back. His own emotions or he at least tried to keep them at bay. Try being the key word here. "I loved you with all of me. If you ever believe in something, believe in that." His earlier words had trembled out but those two sentences didn't. They held strong just as genuine as they truly were. But he shook his head suddenly. "It doesn't matter why. It's not going to miraculously solve anything." Nash had hoped with all the avoiding he had done in the past, it would at least take away from him having to lie to her again. But it seemed like the biggest lie he had ever told was making it's comeback. So, here he was trying to shake off her question instead.
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Epiphany. Yan Albedo x Reader
Warnings: General yandere themes, implied unhappy previous relationship, and spoilers for Albedo’s story. Word count: 2k.
It wasn’t fair.
A snowstorm, unlike anything you’ve ever seen rages outside, shards of lustrous ice falling from the sky with the intent to kill. The Dragonspine’s traditionally somber ambiance contorts into something far more sinister. Numerous hues of grays and dark blues blur together, obscuring your view of the mountainous region. It’s difficult to see anything outside Albedo’s workshop save for the storm.
“Your shaking won’t stop unless you sit by the fire.”
His matter-of-fact declaration startles you. Albedo hadn’t spoken in some time, his attention devoted to a specimen he had discovered prior to the storm. You would’ve shared in his enthusiasm if not for the overall situation and company. Sighing reluctantly, you stand from your spot, hugging yourself to stave off the biting cold. It’s impossible to settle on which is worse: staring at the blizzard or staring at him.
Albedo’s fair skin glows from the light of the crackling fire, sandy blonde hair tousled around his face without care. As he studies the new specimen, his lips purse, eyes focusing on nothing but the work before him, like nothing else mattered. This is how you’ve always known him to be. Even if the world was falling apart around him, Albedo would never falter from what catches his interest until he felt sated.
Sensing how you’re fixating on him, his attention flickers briefly to you, an unidentifiable emotion gleaming in his eyes. You’re the one to avert your gaze first. Sucrose is going to owe you majorly for this one, why did you even accept her request in the first place? Thinking about it now and cursing your past self does nothing yet you still occupy the time by doing just that. She had come to you panicked, pleading that you take this letter to Albedo in the Dragonspine, claiming it’s urgent. In the heat of the moment, your judgment lapsed and you caved. She spoke of needing to continue her research in Mondstadt or else she would’ve done it herself.
Look where your goodwill has gotten you now, you think. She owes me a week’s worth of dinner.
You lament giving credence to his advice, but your stubbornness concedes, the cold too miserable to withstand any longer. The fire is right by his side to add insult to injury. Did he do that on purpose to spite you? It’s unlikely, yet your mind wanders to the worst-case scenario. If any other citizen of Mondstadt were privy to your suspicious thoughts, they’d think you unreasonable, as Albedo has established his reputation well. He’s a known eccentric, sure, but a genius one. A few quirks on his behalf that anyone else could overlook.
Quirks that you used to overlook yourself.
“Would you please grab my bag,” he doesn’t look away from his prized sample but motions to the general area it’s in. “I need to write down my observations.”
You follow through with what he asks. There was a time you’d have been over the moon to participate in his process, you used to practically trip over yourself to do anything he needed. That enthusiasm has long died off and been replaced by apathy. It’s when he reaches out to take the bag from you that you snap from your trance-like reverie. Whatever remnants of obedience that lingered in your subconscious are brushed away, as you decide to finally challenge him.
Inhaling sharply, you hold the bag just out of his reach, finally earning his recognition for more than a millisecond.
“I’m not your assistant anymore.” Among other things, you think.
The words come out more childish than you intended. What you had meant to communicate was your new, critical view on him — he’s a person just the same as anyone else — who held no authority over you. You hold your breath awaiting his response. Albedo doesn’t have an intimidating presence, not in the traditional sense. It’s his mind that you’re wary of. There’s no guessing what sentiments run through his head, yet that’s never stopped you from trying to unravel the mystery that is his thought process.
He gives you a long, hard stare. “I’m aware of that.”
Where were you going with this again? Albedo doesn’t need to point out your needlessly spiteful behavior with words, his mildly irate facial expression says it just fine. His thin eyebrows threaten to furrow together and the corners of his lips curl down into a frown. You’re unsure of what bothers him more. What you pointed out, or that his work is being interrupted for even the slightest moment.
The budding confidence you had is all but crushed beneath the weight of his unblinking gaze. Clearing your throat, you decide to take a new approach, straightening your posture in an attempt to be taken more seriously.
“Then tell me, why do you still act like I am?” Your question comes from a genuine place of confusion. Ever since your arrival, you’ve begrudgingly done the odds and ends he’s asked of you, almost like clockwork. You had fallen back into the rhythm that was your life up until a month ago. There was just something about the silent authority he carries that makes it impossible to say no.
That is, until now. You’re determined to clear up the problems that have plagued your mind. Albedo’s had his time to be nonchalant like nothing happened between you two, but you’re not having it anymore.
“Force of habit,” he nods his head towards your hand that holds his possessions captive. “Now, would you please…?”
Your grip tightens and you shake your head defiantly. “No. Or at least, not until you give me a better explanation. Not just about that. How you act in general… none of it makes sense to me.”
It wouldn’t take much effort from his half to wrangle his bag from you, you’ve seen him in action before after all, so it comes as a surprise when he instead gives in. You blink, gaping when he takes a seat by the roaring fire, and motions for you to do the same. An opportunity like this is hard to come by. The past few weeks, it’s been your code of conduct to avoid any interaction with Albedo, but your frustration can no longer be repressed.
You take a seat by his side but intentionally leave some distance.
There’s so much you want to say. Insults, questions, demands, anything. Anything that could give just a hint of closure that he refused to offer himself. It doesn’t help that this familiar area brings memories with it — good and bad alike — painful nostalgia eating away at your heart from the inside out. While you battle with your inner thoughts, he observes you in silence. For a time you hear nothing but the crackling of the fire and wind howling outside.
Finding the courage to speak up, your throat tightens as you force a question out. “Did I… mean so little to you?”
It’s rare that Albedo ever looks taken aback, but your inquiry managed to do just that. His eyes widen ever so slightly, confusion etching onto his face before he manages to compose himself. Lots of intimate discussions had gone this way. You’d spend hours prepping yourself, meticulously going over what it was you wanted to say, only for the words to die on your tongue when you saw him.
“I don’t understand what you mean.” He appears genuinely perplexed and you can’t help but feel silly. It may have served you better to think long about this, you realize, but now it’s too late. You rush to explain yourself in hopes of making better sense.
“When I said I wanted to, er, part ways,” you can’t help but cringe at not knowing the proper label for ending whatever was going on between you two, “You just seemed, I don’t know, indifferent…?”
In your head, this went down in such a different way.
Your cheeks are set ablaze by the humiliation his silence brings. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this exact way when bringing up your feelings to Albedo, yet it’s just as awful. Archons, does he always have to look at you like you have three heads?
When he finally gives you an answer, you wish you had never asked.
“I knew you would come back to me eventually.”
Now it’s your turn to give him an incredulous look. He says it without an ounce of hesitation, never once breaking eye contact, his resolve holding firm. Sensing a need to clarify, he attempts to do just that.
“I considered a variety of variables,” he raises his hand and brushes his knuckles over your face, the unexpected tenderness making you shiver. “I know how your mind works very well. When you told me that’s what you wanted, your physical mannerisms didn’t line up with what you were saying.”
Your heart drops but he doesn’t stop there.
“Biological responses never lie. It wasn’t anxiety that kept you from looking me in the eye then, it was reasonable doubt. You know it as well as I do. There’s something about me that you can’t place, and the natural human response to the unknown is caution.”
He stops caressing your cheek. “So, tell me [First], and maybe then you’ll reach the conclusion you’ve been searching for. Why are you afraid of me?”
Everything feels wrong. How he’s whispering such horrifying ideas into your mind, leading the conversation with expertise. Is it charisma? You don’t think that’s the proper word. No, it’s how damn certain he is, how he never once leaves room for argument.
Albedo appraises your silence coldly.
“See? You’re not sure yourself. Thus why I knew you’d return to me,” he retracts his hand and leans back, but the ghost of his touch leaves your face tingling. “When you don’t understand something, you study it. That’s who you are. It’s why I picked you to be my assistant, that quality of exhausting curiosity, much like the one I have myself.”
He’s hypnotizing you with his words, his even tone, his silent authority. You’re drawn in like a moth to a flame and trapped in a verbal standoff. Whether it was a result of your Vision flickering subconsciously resulting in the fire diminishing or some other cause, you realize what little warmth in the cave is disappearing, your breath materializing in front of you as a result.
But it’s only yours.
That’s when it clicks deep inside the recesses of your mind. Apart of what always bothered you about Albedo was this sense of uncanniness. Whenever you thought you were understanding him better, new mysteries would arise, leaving you worse off than when you started. This combined with his workload and the emotional distance you felt between the two of you is what led to your separation.
Albedo’s face is but a few inches away from yours. He’s patiently awaiting a response or anything you could muster to challenge him with, though both of you are aware that no such thing exists.
You manage to surprise him again by asking another question. “Why… why are you not breathing?”
And how could you never have noticed until now?
His long eyelashes flutter shut. “Relationships truly are troublesome. There are unspoken rules and expectations, both of which take effort to satisfy. I hadn’t mind trying to do so to keep you happy, but that approach didn’t work as intended.”
Had it not been for the hammering of your heart and how lighthearted you feel, you’d challenge him on his definition of trying. Instead, you watch without so much as moving an inch, too in awe to utter a single word.
“You always asked me to be more romantic, but I guess the phrase you take my breath away won’t suffice here,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell you, but once you know… well, I don’t think I can ever let you leave my side.”
“I hope you won’t mind keeping me company a bit longer than you intended to.”
#albedo#albedo x reader#yandere albedo x reader#genshin impact#albedo genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagine#yandere genshin impact#yandere#yandere x reader#my stuff
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Hey Griffin I love your work, your writing is amazing, and I was wondering if I could spare you an angsty request: Parental Tommy falls into deep grief after their child, Reader, goes into prison to tell Dream off for blowing up their home and hurting their father and Uncle Tubbo, and gets killed by Dream. Maybe how Wilbur and Schlatt react to Reader in the afterlife, and what Tommy does to try and get them back. (Inspired by this week's streams)
I went farther than with this than I planned to originally. Lol. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!
Quiet Uptown
Pairings: Parental! Tommy x Teenage F! Reader
Warnings: Death, Blood, Mentions of Violence, Angst!!, afterlife, swearing
A/N: (F/L) is first letter of your first name because that’s just a Tommy thing.
Sam hesitated when (Y/N) had stepped into his prison that day.
The young sixteen-year-old girl stood there; her eyes filled with determination as she waited for Sam to speak.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, standing up. “Does Tommy know you’re here?”
“No.” She answered truthfully. “He won’t realize I’m gone for maybe two hours. He wouldn’t ever let me near here but I want to give Dream a piece of my mind after everything he’s put my family through. Dad and I both own only one life after everything he’s one and I want to let him know how badly he lost.”
“I…Don’t think this is wise. You’re just a kid.”
“I’m more than a kid! Everyone seems to forget I fought for Pogtopia at the age of thirteen and lost a life for it. I went and helped dad every day in his exile when no one else would! Dream killed me for that bullshit and I refuse to let him think he has control over me and my family anymore.”
Sam could see it was more than that. She wanted to know that Dream no longer held control over her and her family. Dream had taken everything from them. Their nation, their family members, their two spare lives, their friends. Now he was locked away after Tommy won and she needed to know he couldn’t control them anymore.
“Alright. Well, I need you to read this carefully and sign it.” Sam slipped into his role as Warden.
He walked (Y/N) through the clearance steps and lead her down through the prison.
Dream was a broken man. Sam made sure his spirit was broken and the masked man had long since stopped trying to escape. The poor young girl needed closure.
…Sam was overconfident in his abilities.
“If you need anything, call for me,” Sam told her and she nodded.
And she was let into the cell.
The man of the hour was surprised by his visitor, picking himself off the floor as he grinned behind his mask.
“Well, well, well. It’s little Innit.”
“Shut up.” (Y/N) immediately said. “You’ll listen to me today.”
Dream held up his hands, giving a laugh. “Alright. Let’s hear what you have to say.”
(Y/N) looked around the small cell and was reminded of her father’s claustrophobia…that Dream caused.
“It’s fitting for you to be in here. Trapped in a box. Your life thrown in a hole, waiting to be destroyed.” (Y/N) said. “You did a lot to my family Dream, you hurt them, you killed them. There are people out there that say you don’t deserve this but I know everything you’ve done. You’re going to rot in here forever if it’s the last thing I do.”
“You’ve got a pretty big ego there.”
“You’re one to talk! You took everything from us because you couldn’t handle that we took away even a bit of your power!” She took a deep breath to calm herself and Dream saw the Tommy in her. “You tried to kill Tubbo, you were going to used what everyone loved against them. You’re a psychopath and you can’t be let out.”
“People can change though. I can change and get out.”
“You’ll never change! You’re talking bullshit and I know! Dad knows it! Sam, Tubbo, Quackity! You’re just bullshit! You’re a green little bitch and you’ll never get out! You can’t hurt us anymore. We’re in control now and we’re free from you forever.” She told him, getting in his masked face without thinking.
She never meant to go so far into the cell…Sam had asked her not to…
Dream’s grin turned wicked, (Y/N) unable to see it but she felt something in the air change and she paled slightly as she took a step back towards the netherite barrier realizing how far she went.
“I might not be able to hurt anyone…outside!”
“SAM!” She screamed, bolting for the barrier…but Dream was faster…
“DREAM! DON’T!!” Sam commanded as he tried to bring the lava down as fast as he could! …
…
“Come on Tubbo. You’re getting shit at this.” Tommy laughed as he knocked Tubbo’s wooden training sword out of his hand.
“You’re such an arse.” Tubbo huffed, going over to get some water.
Tommy grinned. He had missed this, just being to train with Tubbo for the hell of it. (Y/N) said she needed to do something Ranboo, so it felt like he was missing something during the training but he was glad to know she was able to go out in the world without him worrying. Dream wasn’t out there anymore.
The taller man was practicing his swings when Tubbo heard both their walkies beep. Someone must be calling them. Tubbo picked up his walkie, going to answer but his eyes went wide as he saw why the walkie had beeped. He dropped it, taking a step back, making Tommy look over in confusion.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tommy asked, going over to see what it was.
“T-Tommy, don’t—” Tubbo started but Tommy had already picked up the walkie.
Tommy entire world stopped as he stared at the words on the screen.
(Y/N) was slain by Dream
“This—This is a stupid fucking joke.” Tommy tried to say, looking at Tubbo.
But Tubbo had both his hands over his mouth as he was already starting to cry.
“She…He’s in prison!” He shouted as he went for his own walkie. “This is shit joke Tubbo!”
He couldn’t breathe as his walkie displayed the same message. It felt like the world around him was getting smaller as he couldn’t think of anything but those five words.
“It’s not true!” Tommy screamed before snatching up his gear.
He ran out the door to find it raining. His trident came off his back and was soaring through the air after throwing it through the rain. There was no fucking way, she was with Ranboo! Dream was rotting in a cell! He made sure of it!
His baby should be as safe as she could be!
Mud splashed all over him as he landed in front of the prison complex, soaking wet but he felt so numb. He couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t care about anything else, he just wanted to know who was playing this cruel joke.
“SAM!” Tommy stormed in.
Sam clutched the figure to him as he made his way past the empty prison cells hearing Tommy’s voice.
He failed…
This was all his fault…
Sam stared at the last door where Tommy shouted his name again before taking a deep breath and opening it.
Tommy snapped his head over and his entire world collapsed as Sam held the bloody figure in his arms. Their blood was coating Sam’s armor along with their own clothes.
“No, no…NO! NO!!” Tommy shouted as he gripped his head taking a step back.
That couldn’t be her, it just couldn’t be! She shouldn’t be here! She wasn’t here! It was all a…a dream…a nightmare!
“Tommy.” Sam let out a heartbroken voice.
Tommy looked up and looked to her neck. The (F/C) bandana was undeniable…
Taking a shaky step forward, Tommy took the girl from Sam before collapsing to the ground, sobbing when he saw what Dream had done to her. He rocked, back and forth as he held her close.
“Please…please little (F/L)…come back to me. I’m here now.” Tommy choked out his words as he stared down at the bloody girl. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Please come back (Y/N).”
He put his forehead on hers as his tears stained her face.
He let out a heartbroken scream!
And it echoed all throughout the prison, making Dream’s maniacal laughter continue in his cell.
…
“Who’s this?” A voice asked.
(Y/N) groaned at the feeling of a pounding headache before looking up.
“(Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here first.” She heard a much more familiar voice.
She looked up seeing her Uncle Wilbur grinning at her.
“W-Wilbur?”
“Ayup.” He chuckled. “Nice to see you again kid.”
“Where…Where…” She looked around at the darkness, startling when she saw the familiar ram man and scooted away. “Schlatt.”
“Hey, brat. Nice to see you again.” He grinned. “Welcome to the afterlife.”
“I’m…I died?” Her breathing picked up.
Her head started to hurt and she gripped onto it as she remembered. The blood…the pain…daddy save me!
She startled feeling a hand on her shoulder, seeing it was Schlatt as Wilbur stood there with his hands in his coat.
“Yeah, it’s going to be pretty hard.” Wilbur shrugged. “We’ll…show you around.”
Wilbur laughed as Schlatt rolled his eyes.
“Come on brat.” He offered her a hand. “We’ll explain it all to you.”
…
Tubbo was waiting at Tommy’s base, his own heart shattering seeing his best friend sniffling as he wiped away his tears while covered in blood.
“No.” Tubbo breathed.
Tommy couldn’t think at the moment. The world seemed unreal. He couldn’t feel the rain hitting his body or the cold starting to set into him.
“My little girl’s gone Tubbo.” He muttered.
“I’m so sorry Tommy. What…what happened?” Tubbo asked.
“I-I don’t know. I just…” Tommy put his hands through his hair, his breaths coming out short. “(Y/N)—She…Holy shit…My poor little (F/L)…”
Tubbo came over putting his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “Breathe Tommy.”
“How?! My—She’s gotten! Beaten and blooded! She must have been terrified and I—I wasn’t there Tubbo!” Tommy shouted putting his hands over his face.
“…What are you going to do?” Tubbo asked.
Tommy rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t think, I need…I need the night to get anything in me…”
“Yeah, ok. I’ll stay.”
“No, I…I really need some time alone right now,” Tommy told him.
“…Ok. I’ll get a room at the hotel so I’ll be close by, ok?”
“Yeah, alright,” Tommy muttered before pushing past into his house.
Tubbo let tears roll down his cheeks before he looked at the prison, marching himself over.
Tommy stood inside the house and…it felt so small and so quiet. He laughed bitterly to himself. Finally, it being quiet uptown made so much sense to him. Everything felt so dull and silent.
Slowly, he went into his ender chest and pulled out his first disc. He stared down at it as he remembered finding (Y/N) after he found this disc. He ran a thumb over it as he remembered every time, he fought Dream for it till the final battle. He went to the bedroom, staring at the made bed across the room.
He went to the jukebox and put the disc in as he sat on his bed staring at the empty one. His body broke down again as he cried into his hands.
“If I had just kept the memories and you instead of this stupid disc you’d still be here!” He shouted to air. “I’m so sorry (Y/N)…I’m so sorry…”
At the prison, Tubbo stormed in with a trident in hand.
“What the hell happened?!” Tubbo demanded, Sam, sitting on his desk trying to process his own thoughts.
“I was too late…” Sam muttered.
“That answers nothing. What happened?!”
“…She wanted to see Dream. She wanted closure after everything you’ve guys have been through…she was just a kid…and…”
“Yeah, she was a kid, so why did you let her in?!”
“Because she looked so broken. She wanted to see Dream couldn’t hurt her anymore. I-I-I thought I got the strength out of him! Then…she screamed for help…I tried to get in as fast as I could…he just laughed when I came in…”
“…You shouldn’t have let her in.”
Sam hung his low, knowing he was right.
…
(Y/N) sat watching the two men play solitaire.
“Why’d you even go and see Dream?” Wilbur asked as he laid down an eight of spades on a nine of hearts.
(Y/N) felt her throat tighten, it always making her feel weird when she did it past few days as she didn’t need to exactly breath.
“I was having nightmares, Dream getting out and sit. I just…needed to see he was away, unable to hurt me.”
Wilbur snorted and Schlatt punched him.
“Shut the hell up man,” Schlatt told him.
“Well, it obviously didn’t help, she’s here.” Wilbur rolled his eyes as Schlatt put down a five of diamonds. “And no punching, that’s round five.”
(Y/N) breathing picked up and Schlatt huffed, throwing his cards down.
“We’re not going to finish?” Wilbur questioned.
“No, you’re driving us both nuts. Let’s go kid.” Schlatt hoisted her up and away, surprising her as that was the first time, he didn’t call her brat.
(Y/N) glanced back seeing Wilbur continuing to play his game without them. She remembered Wilbur being insane before in Pogtopia. This was a whole new level.
“We’ve been here for years,” Schlatt spoke, making her look at him. “He was nuts before; he’s even more fucked up now. I’m still more me because I’d rather sleep through this shit. You know the phrase I’ll sleep when I’m dead? That’s what I’m doing.” He grinned at his own joke.
She snorted quietly, as she looked at her hands. “I just want to see my dad so bad…I lied to him as my last thing and…I miss him.”
“I know kid. It’s hard for us to get down there though. I don’t even know how fuck face managed it.”
“…Do you think he’s mad at me?” She asked.
“No, I remember that stupid kid. If anything, someone probably had to hold him back, foaming at the mouth, from killing Dream himself with his bare hands. He wouldn’t be mad at you.”
She smiled softly. She wished this had been president Schlatt and maybe everything would have been better. But Wilbur was right, L’Manberg needed to go, it corrupted everyone.
…
“Tommy,” Sam said as they stood in front of the lava wall.
Four days had passed. Tommy had a funeral for his little girl and there had been gifts and tributes for her, but nothing made it, her. He felt like he was suffocating constantly and he couldn’t take it anymore. She had no ghost so Phil’s research would give him no help. But…there was one other thing.
“You know what he’s going to ask for,” Sam spoke the obvious.
“I know. He’s not going to get it.” Tommy said, his voice dead.
Sam gripped the lever that would bring down the lava wall. “He hasn’t eaten in two days, he’ll be weak.”
“Good. Now let me in.” Tommy stepped forward.
Sam hesitated before pulling the lever. After a few minutes, Tommy was standing behind the netherite barrier. Dream grinned, his mask off as he stood up, holding his hands out.
“The man of the hour! I’ve been waiting for you!” Dream laughed.
The barrier dropped and Tommy walked in.
“Bring her back.” Tommy simply stated.
“Can’t without the book, you know what I’m going to need.”
Tommy nodded, walking forward before hitting Dream with surprising force that sent him to the ground.
“We’re…going to have a nice long chat,” Tommy told the surprised man in a monotone voice. “And it’s going to end with where you put that book or how to get my little girl back. So, let’s talk bitch.”
Tommy would get her back. He wouldn’t let this be the end.
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there’s something i don’t get after this chapter.
for all we know, he tian was gone just as long- if not longer, or maybe not as long- as jian yi. and it sounds like there’s been just as little contact with mo like with zhen xi.
Considering mo got to know he tian in such little time compared to zhanyi, tianshan just seem to be flowing by all these intense romance development breakthroughs right to this future chapter where they are practically screaming boyfriends (who live together now?) so between christmas to may, he’s seemed to move on and start a relationship(?) with tian.
so why this development just between tianshan?
i’m not complaining by all means, but after a while, can we buy the “zhen xi needs time and is hurt?” part of it is my own frustration, of course, but thing is, we even saw how devastating tians absence was for mo and the toll it took on him by his state at the end of the christmas episode, so it’s not like mo couldnt have experience the same kind of pain and betrayal as zhan xi for “x” years.
is it bc zhanyi knew each other longer and it takes that much longer to heal? even if it’s something only future chapters will reveal, the status of tianshan yesterday makes me more curious why the cold shoulder for our other babies
i’ve heard not many talk on these parallels, so if you don’t mind another long anon question, i’m very curious on your take!
Beloved anon you came to the right place, in this house we love to compare the couples… well not really but I don’t mind sharing my opinion at all so here we go, love the long question with so much detail
What is different in my opinion about the separation, even if is for the same amount of time apart, is that for starters TianShan will get some sort of closure and explanation about why they have to go different ways and although yes Mo is going to suffer he knows HT is not abandoning him, or at least that’s what I think since there’s nothing that suggests us that Mo is mad at HT in any single future chapter
now going back to ZhanYi
Jian Yi one day is just going to disappear and im almost certain that Jian Yi and his mama are going to go away other wise it makes no sense that JY one day is gone and ZZX doesn’t go and ask about what is happening, with HT and his brother gone he won’t suspect about brother Q taking him away so he’s just going to get left behind with no way of knowing what happened, I don’t think they’re going to explain to HT the plan so even if ZZX goes and ask Mo to ask HT the last one can give a believable answer, despair and sadness enter his life and then one day JY comes back out of nowhere just like the way he vanished and I don’t think this would have been a problem for ZZX if JY would have come back crying and pretending he doesn’t want anything more than friendship but
he came back with a “now or never” mentality, with no explanation, the one he tried to sell was a ridiculous one even if it was true and he waited until ZZX asked about it, so in my opinion this is why we see a big difference between the couples
I get the frustration but it makes sense that ZZX is offended at the fact that he gets no info before this guy tries to kiss and grab ass, he should be offered an explanation or a compilation of what in the world happened, even if JY was kidnapped he is the one who wants to win the guy not the other way around, maybe he wants to protect ZZX and probably forget about it but he has to realize that in the eyes of his friend he just went away leaving him behind, in the other couple’s case Mo doesn’t even has to ask pretty sure HT has a presentation ready for him, and that’s exactly why we see faster developments with them Anon, as soon as Jian Yi stops pretending that nothing happened, just like the time after he kissed ZZX, we’re gonna keep throwing pillows to the wall it’s infuriating because ZZX is already returning his feelings but if JY doesn’t say it clearly ZZX isn’t going to say it either, sucks isn’t it
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At Cornelius' suggestion, Ashen offered a small smile, conscious of the contradiction in his decision. "You know... you would be right. Maybe it's best kept out of sight. But it's not like I can forget it. To me, it serves as a reminder that looks may not be what they seem." He sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the framed letter. "Elturel was the most righteous city to be found this side of the Sword Coast, law, order and justice were its motto. But it cast me away like a criminal in thanks for my service. In doing so they have behaved in a worse manner than many truly evil opponents I have met, who at least respected my might in battle."
Perhaps this explained his fast acceptance of Cornelius' lich form. A terrifying form, certainly, but he knew that beneath was his friend, his dear friend, and that underneath some handsome paladins' armours laid the seed of something more terrible than any lich.
The next question seemed to surprise him, as if he had never considered it. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had considered it, sometimes. But like one considers a far-away dream, something out of the realm of possibilities. He looked away for a brief moment, gathering his thoughts, his conflicted feelings.
"Elturel does not want me back. I would feel terrible returning to a place where I am unwanted. But..."
That 'but' hung in the air, longer than what was comfortable.
"Years ago, I took up a shovel among the gravestones of Elturel, and there I buried Rheighar, my best friend." The end of his sentence seemed to catch on his tongue. He had mentioned him before, but it was obvious, even then, that there was more to it.
"No. No, that's not right. We were lovers. At least, I loved him. I don't know if he ever..."
He could not continue any further without losing his words. He switched to another thought instead.
"I would like to visit him. One last time. I did not get closure... ever since he died fighting in Elturel."
There was something deeply changed in his voice. He had told Cornelius many terrible stories of Avernus before, but never like this. It was not just another story of death - it was his breaking point. The single moment of his life where everything went downhill - the last strike that broke his weary soul, that made him question whether there was anything left to live for.
the wizard is silent while he studies the framed letter, reading the contents carefully. his arms are folded behind his back as he remains unmoving, letting the silence of the office hang in the air. atonement, forgiveness, seeking it or giving it; cornelius understands these things and understands still the mortal need for closure. ( after all, is he not human some of the time? ) he cannot put himself in ashen's boots nor could he even begin to guess but he could still offer his sympathy. " would it not be beneficial to your health to keep it out of sight? " he asks, voice softer than usual.
a nobody... cornelius cannot explain why the specific comment draws his ire so much. not aimed at his friend, of course, but at those wolves that seemed to have convinced his friend that he be nothing more than a lamb when he knows the man to be anything but. " it is unfortunate that someone must be blamed and that fault fell on you, as you say, poor fools. "
he studies the letter and frame a few seconds longer before finally turning to address ashen. the usual curiosity burning in his eyes behind his frames, carefully fixed where they sit on the bridge of his nose. his next question asked as if one might be talking about the weather though the suggestion is anything but. he stares, unblinking, gaze fixed upon ashen's face. " have you thought about going back? to see your home even from a distance? " or does it weigh too heavy on your heart, my friend?
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yellow & blue
[not my pic] Hello and welcome to 2.7k words of pure angst! This doesn’t really have a purpose lol but it’s sad and angsty and features 2020 Brits Harry so why not!!! Have some depressed Harry, angelic reader, and yellow suits. Featuring Harry Styles x famous!reader. Inspired by Woman by Harry Styles, It Isn’t Right by the Platters, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (which should give you an idea of just how angsty this is lmao).
The first time he met you, Harry was wearing a yellow suit. The first thing you said to him was a compliment about it. That suit sparked a conversation, and that conversation sparked an interest, and that interest sparked the best two years of Harry’s life.
If Harry said he hadn’t thought about that suit while preparing for the 2020 Brits, he’d be lying.
The chatter of the table he’s at isn’t boring by any means, but it’s not anywhere near captivating enough to keep Harry’s attention on the conversation and off of you. He heard about your new boyfriend, of course - who hasn’t - but this is your first public appearance together and Harry is having just a little bit of trouble breathing.
It’s been four months. Four months since you broke up, three since the news went public.
As far as the public knew, the separation was mutual. As a brand new artist, you needed to take a second to find yourself as a person. As Harry Styles, the man the myth the legend, Harry needed to focus on his next album and possible future acting career. He also supported you in your decision, and knew that the two of you would, of course, remain the best of friends.
Most of that’s true. You only just released your second album - which is doing spectacularly, of course - and Harry really does need to get this next album done. But it wasn’t mutual. Harry doesn’t think any of his break ups have been truly mutual. You broke up with him. There isn’t really any getting around it. Not that the public has to know.
The problem is that Harry understands why you broke up with him. As heartbreaking as it is, he realizes what he did. He knows that he wasn’t a good boyfriend. He doesn’t really have an excuse, either; he can explain away his faults all he wants, but at the end of the day, you’re just too good for him.
Which makes it all the more depressing to watch you positively glow without him.
Part of him wants to go over and beg for your forgiveness. He wants to walk over and get on his knees and say, I love you with all my heart and I’ll never make another mistake again and I’ll love you forever and ever, please, please take me back, I’ll do anything.
Another part of him loves you too much to do that. Maybe you’re meant to be with this new guy. Maybe he’s your one, your only, the one worthy of all your love and attention. Maybe he’ll make you happy in ways Harry never did.
Because really, all Harry wants is for you to be happy. He wants you to glow like this all the time, to forget the feeling of sadness, to never cry a single tear again. He wants the only pain you ever feel to be an ache in your cheeks from all your smiling.
He just wishes he could be the one putting that smile on your face.
One thing he’s noticed is that your happiness seems to coincide directly with his. Whenever you’re happy, he’s happy. Not at the moment, actually, because you seem happy as a clam and Harry feels like his chest is caving in on itself, but whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” he thinks of moments with you. Of moments when you were happy. Moments when you were happy because of him, with him, for him.
He surprised you with a picnic one year for your birthday. He went all out, spreading a blanket down and everything, and the two of you drank wine, ate sandwiches and snacks out of a picnic basket, and talked in Harry’s back yard until after the sun came up.
Whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” that is the moment that pops into his head.
It wasn’t a loud sort of happiness, either. It wasn’t a bouncing on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his blood, head pounding with excitement and joy and energy sort of happiness. He wasn’t breathless or wide eyed or buzzing with emotion.
No, this was a quiet happiness. It was the very definition of content. It was your head on his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his, your whispers of, “I love you,” the soft kisses exchanged as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle into the sky. It was your giggles at his jokes, your eyes brighter than the moon, softer than the wispy clouds suspended in air.
Harry’s getting a hollow ache in his chest just thinking about it. It hurts, really, because each of those memories, those days, those nights, carved a little hole in him and filled him with love and adoration and the purest happiness anyone’s ever experienced in the history of the world.
Now that you’re gone, that happiness has disappeared and all that’s left is a hollow, empty pit.
Since you’ve been gone, other memories have started creeping out of the shadows. These are different memories, memories of Harry’s failure and your disappointment and nights spent apart and tears sliding down your cheeks.
The problem with these memories is that it’s not a specific memory. It’s not one singular memory that Harry can turn over and over in his head and decide what went wrong. It’s not one thing that Harry can think about and solidify and apologize for.
It’s a whole bunch of things. It’s all the nights spent at the studio instead of with you. It’s all the last minute anniversary gifts and half hearted, distracted dinners, and all the forgetting of events and details. It’s the gradual falling away of random weeknight flowers, it’s the slow decline of hidden poems around the house he set out for you to find.
Well, maybe there is one thing. It might have been that one date night he cancelled. It was at the very end, during the knowing glances after frequent fights, after the slow, painful descent into acceptance but before the official conversation.
Dancing with the Stars had come on TV one night.
“Hey, I’m a star,” you murmured to him, curled up against him on the couch.
“Got that right,” Harry hummed, and you smiled up at him, and that smile made this night one of the good memories. “It should be just us two,” you told him, watching the pairs made up of one professional dancer and one celebrity dance on screen. “No professional.”
You giggled. “Yeah, we’re too good for them anyway.”
You took to dancing around the house after that night. Your dancing always brought a smile to Harry’s face. Funny how all you had to do was twirl, laugh, smile, breathe, and Harry would want to smother you in kisses and gift you his entire heart.
Sometimes you managed to rope him into it. Often you wouldn’t. Often, Harry would wake up to soft music playing in the kitchen, and he would walk in and see you dancing. He’d sip his coffee, and you would spin around and make up fancy footwork, and Harry would grin and blow you kisses and whisper, “I love you.”
He offered to take you dancing one night. He lay next to you in bed and traced his fingertips over your cheeks, lips, nose, and told you all about the night the two of you would have. He talked about live music and warm food and twinkling stars and dancing. You closed your eyes and smiled and hummed one of his songs, and Harry kissed you.
Then he got busy at the studio on the night you decided on. He stayed long. He called you. You didn’t pick up, because you were in the shower, getting ready for you big night. And you didn’t see the voicemail until after you were ready, until after you were sitting on the couch waiting for him, and when you saw the voicemail you jumped up because you didn’t look at the time it was sent, and you thought the voicemail was him calling because he was outside to pick you up.
You weren’t crying when he arrived at home. You just had a quiet sort of disappointment in your eyes, one that was almost more painful than tears, because this look told Harry that some part of you expected this. Harry didn’t look particularly guilty because he hadn’t realized how excited you were. He thought you probably didn’t even get ready. He thought you’d say, “Aw, well,” and move on.
He didn’t think he’d find you on the sofa, dressed in the most beautiful summer dress he’d ever seen, looking like an angel with a broken wing. He never dreamed you’d be so upset, never dreamed he’d be the reason for you being so upset.
That was the night he realized he was nothing but a mortal man in the presence of an angel.
An actual, real live angel.
An actual, real live angel who was losing her glow because of him.
Harry takes a miserable sip of his drink and tries to involve himself in the conversation happening around him. It doesn’t work. The noise level in the room is almost headache inducing, but somehow Harry can still pick out your laugh through the chatter.
He thinks, for a moment, that he’d like a shot of that laughter. He’d like to bathe in your happiness just once more. Maybe that’s all the closure he needs. A gasp of fresh air after what seems like eons of suffocating loneliness.
Then Harry thinks he sounds pathetic even in his own head and he excuses himself from his table. He walks almost blindly through the halls without even a semblance of an idea as to where he’s going. It’s quiet out here, at least, and he can clear his head, and take a breath, and maybe -
"Hey.”
Harry freezes.
For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things. Then he turns around, and as it happens, he’s not.
There you are, in all your glory, a hesitant smile on your lips. You’re wearing a lavender dress. It fits you perfectly, makes you look like you’re floating off the ground, and Harry wants to cry because it matches his bow perfectly and that wasn’t even planned and goddammit, universe, that’s just salt in a gaping wound.
“Nice suit,” you say, and now your smile looks more sad than hesitant, and Harry feels the tears building in his throat because you remember too, of course you do, and Harry opens his mouth to reply but he can’t get his words out and now he’s on the verge of tears not only because he’s sad but also because he’s embarrassed.
“Thanks,” Harry finally chokes out.
“You’re welcome.”
The corridor suddenly feels long and empty and silent.
“Heard Feather on the radio the other day,” you say.
Feather. One word, a million memories shifting through Harry’s head faster than lightning.
A gifted necklace, filled notebooks, picked out notes, hummed melodies. Murmured lyrics in ears in early mornings. Night after night in the studio, together. Rubbish takeaway food, in the studio, together. Laughter over everything and nothing. Falling over each other in the booth, soft sighs and blissful gasps replacing giggles and shrieks of amusement. Late, late nights, together. Hearing it on the radio for the first time, together, almost driving off the road because of the excitement.
Hearing it on the radio last time, alone, almost driving off the road because of the stab of grief.
Harry’s not sure what to say to that. What do you expect him to? Oh, great, me too, fantastic song, innit? So he pauses for a moment and then replies, “We should make a sequel.” That gets a laugh out of you, and the thought strikes Harry to bottle it up and wear it in a little bottle around his neck.
“That would be something, huh?” you say.
“Call me,” Harry says. “I’ll book a studio.”
You smile. “Yeah, sure.”
“Don’t forget,” Harry tells you.
“I won’t,” you say, and there’s a beat of silence. Your smile fades as you look at him, as he looks at you, and Harry looks away because your smile’s about to disappear completely and Harry doesn’t think he could stand being the cause of your smile disappearing one more time.
You clear your throat. “Alright, well… Expect that call.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll see you around, H,” you say.
“See ya.”
You turn around and walk away. Float away. Fly away.
Again.
Flight, Harry thinks, watching you go. That’s what the sequel would be called. Feather. Flight.
You wore a white dress the first time the two of you performed it live. It’s such a love song. It’s the sappiest shit ever written by anyone in the entire world. If anyone else had written it, Harry would’ve rolled his eyes and said, Bullshit.
But it wasn’t. The song wasn’t, the love wasn’t, nothing was. It was the complete opposite. As pure and true as love could possibly be. Which makes it all the more painful that Harry couldn’t keep his shit together enough for you.
That’s another one of the Happy Memories: that first time performing together. You in your white dress, Harry in a silver, shimmering suit. The two of you did a whole choreography; you messed up every other move and Harry tripped over his own feet quite a few times, but the effort was there. The combination of the overwhelming yet familiar excitement of being on stage and the otherworldly bliss of simply being in your presence is a feeling Harry will never forget.
The air in the hallway grows heavier and heavier with each passing second.
Harry should get back to his table.
He starts to walk. He peers up at the ceiling as he does, hands locked behind his back, deep in thought. People are cheering out in the main room. Harry listens to the noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.
The fans, he remembers, were devastated upon hearing the news of your breakup. It was kept quiet long enough that the questions and concerns weren’t particularly invasive, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell. It was ripping off the bandaid of the first month and poking and prying at the wound until Harry cried onstage and ducked out of an interview and missed a show.
Feather was taken off the setlist.
Once, during a lull in a show, the audience began to sing it. That was kind of strange. Harry looked up at the bright lights and swaying figures and heard his song, your song, being sung back to him by hundreds of strangers. It occurred to him, then, that it was not, in reality, your song. By that point, it meant something to other people as well.
That was very strange.
Harry ended up strumming out the chords for them. He smiled when the audience grew louder.
He heard later that the exact same thing happened to you. It was a few nights later, maybe the next week, and there were some technical issues. In the quiet, the fans began to sing Feather. You joined in just a second later, adding in your bit of the choreography.
Harry tried his hardest not to watch the footage, he really did, but he couldn’t help it.
He cried a lot that night.
When he finally makes it back to the main room, you’re situated under your new boyfriend’s arm, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks away as he sits down and downs the last of his drink. He grins at whoever’s talking at his table and shuts off his brain.
At the end of the night, through an alcohol- and exhaustion-muddled haze, Harry spots you by the door. He sweeps you up and plants a big messy kiss on your cheek, which you return with giggles and a kiss of your own. Harry leaves the 2020 Brits with two lipstick prints on him.
Despite the pictures splattered everywhere the next morning, Harry feels an air of contentment.
It’s done, he thinks, taking a deep breath. It’s done, and that’s good.
Because really, nothing gold can stay.
Not even the gold of a yellow suit.
***
ummm... yeah lol. hope u liked it...? lskdjf anyway there's that.
thx for reading! a reblog and some feedback would be fantastique!!!!
masterlist | ask
#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles angst#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles
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In Health
Batmom!Reader x Batfamily
Warning: Angst, Angry Tim Drake
Note: I knoooooow it's been a while since I wrote this series and I actually have finished it a while ago. Just figure I want to share the rest. Enjoy!
Masterlist, Previous Chapter
You bit the inside of your cheeks, your eyes travelled constantly to the watch on your wrist. The iced coffee you ordered fifteen minutes ago already half gone. Metropolis was bright and sunny that day, the weather was warm and nice. A welcomed contrast to gloomy Gotham with its perpetual cloud.
The coffee shop Lois had told you about was buzzed with hungry patrons, considering it was almost lunchtime anyway. It was a breath of relief that nobody would recognize you on the first glance, something you had learned fairly quickly since Bruce had publicly claimed you years ago. If you went somewhere with shirts and jeans and nothing shiny, nobody would recognize you that you are Y/N Wayne.
You glanced into your watch again for the millionth time that day. Was the request to meet up too much for them? Were you too harsh on them back in the days? It’s unusual for–
“Hey, oh my god, we’re so sorry. Our meeting last longer than we expected.”
Lois suddenly came into frame. Behind her was a slightly disheveled Clark, eyeing her behind his glasses hesitantly. Something sank at the bottom of you stomach by the sight alone, perhaps you were indeed way too harsh on him.
“It’s alright, I didn’t wait that long anyway,” you mustered a white lie as you gestured them to take a seat across yours. “How’s Jon doing? I miss him coming over on the weekend.”
“He is fine. Clark and I bought him a video game console on his birthday and all he’s been doing was glued his eyes on the TV,” Lois rolled her eyes fondly at the topic of her own son, something you've been doing for years since you are a mother too. “How are the kids?”
“I figure Jon had been talking about his video games with Damian. He asked me if he could buy one just yesterday,” you laughed. “The kids are fine, per usual. Dick and Jason had been a little busy with their job, so they usually only come over on the weekend. Damian tried to woo me into adopt another pet again last week, Cass been practicing ballet a lot lately, and Tim... well... it’s been a little tough for him to fill Bruce’s shoes in the company but he’s doing well so far.”
There was a little shift in the air after you finished. Lois subtly adjusted her seat, silently sent a look towards her husband who looked a little too nervous to be comfortable. It would be funny to see Superman himself squirmed on his seat if the reason behind it didn’t left a bitter aftertaste.
“Lunch?” you swiftly opened the menu book to dissipate the growing tension and gently shoved it into Clark’s lap. “It’s on me.”
The lunch was surprisingly normal and calm, the thought of the dreading event was swept away underneath the nonexistent rug. Lois had been talking about the newest article she was writing about and Clark was obviously waltzed around carefully to not touching the superhero business, and you played your best to ignore it.
“Lois, Clark,” you started as everyone finally finished their lunch and the empty plates were taken away. “I am here to apologize for what I have done... three months ago. And what I might have said.”
There was silence hung in the air as Lois and Clark shared a look together. It was Lois who immediately reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “Hon, you have nothing to apologize for. We understand, you were–”
“It was still rude and uncalled for, and my circumstance was a mere explanation. Especially to you, Clark,” you rolled your shoulders slightly to face Clark better, eyes fell into the balled fist on his lap. “You were only trying to explain, but I shut you out. I know you lost your best friend too that night and I am so sorry I didn’t try to reach you out sooner.”
“Y/N, it’s–”
“No, no, it’s not.” you breathed shakily. You had prepared your best for this inevitable conversation, but still unaware how painful it could be. “Bruce wouldn’t want me to act that way.”
Silence now had fallen completely and the air had shifted drastically. The only thing that grounded you from withering away and succumb into your own thought was Lois’s thumb gently stroking your wrist. Clark was stunned silent on his seat, the gears on his mind worked twice harder than it usually did in past three months. Nothing had prepared him for this conversation.
“Y/N, I forgive you. I already had long ago. I understand completely, and I would probably act worse if I were in your shoes,” Clark breathed out. All the tension in his shoulders that hinder him in the last forty-five minutes had dissipated into the thin air.
“Thank you,” you lifted your eyes to meet his. Sometimes you forgot how unnaturally blue his eyes were, cold and calculating, even though the corner of his eyes and the smile lines soften it out. It almost reminded you with Bruce. “Can you... can you tell me what happened that night? You were there with him, didn’t you?”
Lois and Clark shared another look, something told you that both knew what you didn’t. “Are you sure you want to hear this now?”
“I need my closure, Clark. And I’d love to know which son of a bitch that take my husband away.”
Clark told you everything in vivid details, the hairs on your shoulders stood in dread by the explanation alone. He talked about the League mission, the warehouse, and the explosion that had killed Bruce and suspected blown his body into unrecognizable tiny bits. By the time he was finished, you were close to tears, and was pleasantly surprised you didn’t weep your heart outs right away in a public place.
“One question,” you wiped the stubborn tears that started to well on your eyes. You mustered a silent thank you as Clark offered his handkerchief. “Was Red Robin there? Was Red Robin called for backup?”
“I can’t remember. What about him?”
You took a sharp breath, the image of Tim weeping on your lap and repeating his apology played inside your mind like a broken movie. “He obsessively investigating his death, saying it was his fault it happened in the first place.”
Lois tighten her grip on your hand and squeezed harder. It wasn’t a secret that your son was bad at letting go and coping with loss, but it had been a huge toll to knew he blamed himself for it. Clark sent you an apologetic look, and you were surprised that you didn’t dread the look.
“It wasn’t his fault. It was supposed to be an easy investigation, an in-and-out mission. Nobody could come prepared for the explosion,” Clark reassured you, although it was addressed more to Tim instead of you. “The machines...”
A sudden rang from Clark’s phone interrupted his words. He watched it rang briefly before let out a dreading, long sigh. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to take this.”
You smiled reassuringly. “Go on.”
Turns out, Lois and Clark had been called for another meeting and had to cut their meeting short. Lois had hugged you tight and drop a promise to come over by weekend for dinner. Clark left a lingering touch on your wrist, his eyes widen as if he had come into a realization he hadn’t before, but he left before he able to muster any single words.
The ride back to Gotham was long and tedious. The traffic had made the trip an hour and half longer than it was necessary, but the sunset at the horizon was a sight for sore eyes. The chance to catch a beautiful sunset was close to zero in Gotham, so you preserved the moment as much as you could. A little part of your soul wished Bruce could witness such sight with you.
You arrived right before dinnertime, the manor was surprisingly quiet, spared for some noises Alfred made in the kitchen as he prepared for dinner. One thing about Wayne household was silent wasn’t a good thing, and one should be suspicious if it happened.
“Where are the others? It’s eerily quiet.” your head popped up in the kitchen. “Alfred, it smells delicious. Are you making Shepherd’s pie again?”
“Miss Y/N, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t surprise me like that anymore,” Alfred deadpanned. “Yes, I am. How was your meeting?”
“It went well. I... I finally get the explanation I deserved,” you sat across the kitchen island, your bag fell into the floor as you did. “Thank you for convincing me into reaching out to him.”
Alfred pressed his lips together into a pleased smile. “You have found your closure, I assumed?”
“I don’t know about that, Alfred,” you admitted. “But it was great to finally know what happened and not left in the dark. Maybe it was a good step for me.”
“I believe so, Miss Y/N.”
“Are those teas for the kids?” you shifted the topic away into a tray full of teacups and biscuits. “Where are they?”
“All of them are cramped together in Batcave, I believe. Master Damian had asked me to brought them some teas.”
“Let me take it to them. You can continue bake your Shepherd’s Pie again.”
Alfred was hesitant, but he nodded away and shoved the tray into your embrace. It had been long overdue for you to step back into the Batcave anyway, figured this would be a great time for you to go back.
You forgot how much you hated the perpetual coldness the Batcave seemed to persistently have, no matter how many efforts everyone had put years ago into make this place warmer and comfortable. The sound of your children bickering with each other filled the cave and it made you smile, for all of its worth, you had always admired your children’s tendency to find things to argue about.
It was until the sound of fist slammed against the table that stopped you in your track and wiped away your smile.
“Stop it, Timbers, stop this fucking bullshit!” Jason’s voice roared, followed with the ear-ripping screeches of bats that had been awoken from their slumber by his roaring voice alone.
“I am telling you the truth!” Tim said heatedly, which was alarming. You quickly hid yourself in the shadows between the costume displays, finding yourself a better spot to watched your children without being known. “Why can’t you believe me?”
“Look at me in the eye and tell me that was not a fucking bullshit!”
“Tim, bud, come on. You need to stop. This isn’t healthy,” Dick’s concerned voice chimed in between the heated stares Jason and Tim exchanged. Your heart sank from that words alone, Tim must had investigating again. “You have us. We can get through this together. But not like this.”
“TT. Drake, you have started to creep me out,” Damian’s equally concerned voice, albeit masked with his usual scowl and sarcasm, piped in. “Also, you look like you hadn’t sleep since you were born.”
“Thanks for the flattery. But listen–”
“Stop it. Stop. Shut your mouth!” Jason yelled again. His finger intimidatingly pointed towards Tim, his eyes filled with rage and frustration. “Have you heard yourself talking?”
“Won’t you all give me a fucking minute to explain myself?” Tim stood from his chair; his fist crumpled together into a ball clenched on his side. It was such an eerie sight to see him so worked up like this. “Cass?”
You saw Cass silently shook her head. She sent Tim an apologetic smile as Tim groaned in frustration.
“Why none of you would just listen to me?”
“Tim, there is no way in hell Bruce is still alive!”
The roar that came from Dick was eerie, but it was his words that split your world into half. You didn’t realize the tray had slipped from your grasp until it clashed with cold floor, your gasp was masked with the loud clang of the tray hitting the floor and the sound of teacups shattered into pieces. All eyes followed towards the sound, and all were surprised to spot their mother was there.
You saw from the corner of your eyes that Dick walked towards you. His shoulders were tensed, his eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and anger. But your eyes fell on Tim whose eyes widen in horror upon realizing that your unknown presence was lurking all these times. You could mentally see the guilt that slowly seeped through his initial shock, the blue in his eyes waver slightly with the swirling guilt. You walked towards Tim, and from the look on his face alone, you wondered if you looked as if you were about to swallow him whole.
“Mom...” Tim croaked.
“Mom, it’s alright. It was nothing.”
“Ma, let’s go upstairs. It’s dinnertime, you never like it when we–”
“Tim.” The firmness on your voice effectively silence your two oldest sons out. Your hands gently placed on Tim’s shoulders as you shut your eyes and counted from one to ten. “Tell me everything.”
“W-what?”
“Tell me everything you know. Tell. Me. Everything.”
“Mom, I don’t think you should see it.”
“He was my husband, Tim. I deserve to know.”
Tim pressed his lips together, his eyes travelled up slowly before he let out a sigh. “Just tell me to stop when it gets too much.”
#batman#batfam#batmom#batfam imagine#batfam fic#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#bruce wayne imagine#clark kent#superman#lois lane#batmom x batfamily#cassandra cain#batmom x batman#dick grayson imagine#jason todd imagine#tim drake imagine#damian wayne imagine#nightwing#red hood#red robin#robin#cassandra cain imagine#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#tim drake x reader#damian wayne x reader
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hii, it's the unsent project anon again!! sometimes i think about steve. instead of going back in time for yk, he goes back in time to see his mother again. and has a dance with his mother because he never got to before for several reasons. it would be more rocking from foot to foot than anything else. and steve can barely see through his clumped up lashes from the tears while she strokes the side of his head before cradling it (its a bit of a stretch because he is all big and healthy now) while muttering, "my stevie, my boy" and steve just grins "it's me, ma".
(he would come back after spending some time with her, with a heavy heart but still)
was thinking about this at like 3 in the morning
anon i genuinely think you're trying to murder me lakjdflksjfaskdjflksf
anyway i wrote another fic
-
There are extra white jackets in the back closet, and Steve steals one that’s approximately his size, despite the shoulders being a bit too tight. Pants are a little harder to come by, but he manages to find a pair that look like they’ll fit him in some poor chap’s locker. He tugs them on, grimacing at the way they hug his thighs and fall only to his ankles. They’ll have to do.
He’d already scoped out the hospital the night before-- he knows she’s on the third floor in a private ward. Good, he thinks. She deserves it, if nothing else.
He is focused as he moves through the halls, head down as he passes other nurses. There’s a clipboard discarded on a table near the children’s ward and he swiftly picks it up, squinting at it. He doesn’t process any of the words on the page, but his act seems sound, because nobody stops him.
He makes it to the stairwell at the end of the hall, pushes open the door and takes the steps two at a time. The smell is one that is achingly familiar-- the walls grey and hazy. The air seems thicker, the lights yellow and dim. And though he’s been removed from the past for over a decade, it still feels like home. Like normal. His normal.
But he does not belong anymore, and he will not stay. He’s already been a ghost once. He’s hesitant to be one again.
Especially now, when he is out there somewhere. Most likely in the shitty tenement he shared with Bucky, but also possibly at the grocer he worked at, his ma’s telegram in his pocket. Savoring the bits of her that he could salvage with the knowledge he’d never see her again, even while she’s alive.
Closure has been something Steve always felt he lacked. But he’s seen hell now-- lived in its fiery pits for more years than he can count. He can take some goddamn closure for himself.
The third floor is nearly vacant. No one is in the hallway when Steve steps out of the stairwell, but he can hear voices in the rooms that line the sides. Coughs echo ominously off the walls, and Steve’s toes curl in his shoes, a brief wave of anxiety washing over him. He hadn’t missed these hospitals, and he’d hoped to never deliberately step foot in one again. But this is necessary. This is worth it.
He walks swiftly towards the end of the hall where the private wards are and stops in front of the first room. The name next to the door is incorrect, so he continues on until he sees it, heart stopping in his chest, then speeding up enough to make his lungs tighten.
Sarah Rogers-- TB. Alternative uniform required.
Steve closes his eyes against the blood rushing from his head. He wants to tell himself it’s been so long since he’s felt this detached from reality-- this out of place in a space that should feel so familiar-- but it hasn’t. The feeling, he’s realizing, never truly left him when he woke up from the ice, and the reverse here is strange.
And there’s something even stranger about reconciling this, because he’d lost his ma far before he’d ever died. This grief is an old wound-- one that’s scabbed over only to bleed circumstantially. He’d grown used to living with this particular, bone deep pain. He isn’t sure if he’s here to lance that, or if he’ll walk away with a deeper wound. He isn’t sure it matters, either.
He pushes open the door.
The room is lit with natural light. There is a desk with a vase and a water pitcher on it, along with a few medicine bottles and a tissue box. The bed is pressed against the far wall, the covers barely disturbed save for the frail figure that lies in it.
Sarah turns her head and looks at Steve.
Steve’s world stops.
He hadn’t seen his ma when she was this ill. His last memories of her are of when she was healthy-- cheeks red and full of life, eyes alight with an optimism he still valiantly tries to uphold. Life had not been kind to Sarah Rogers, but she was the kindest soul Steve had ever known, even in the shadow of his father’s violence.
Is, he corrects himself as he looks at her. She is the kindest soul. She’s there. She’s right there.
She’s right there, and she looks weak. She is gaunt and frail, eyes sunken in and cheekbones sharp against papery looking skin. There’s an exhaustion in the lines of her young face that Steve recognizes as the long standing effects of illness-- your body praying to be done fighting while your mind begs otherwise.
Steve resists the urge to turn and run.
Sarah’s face does something strange as she looks at Steve, and he realizes that he’s been standing there for longer than would be normal for a nurse-- shell shocked and silent. She opens her mouth to say something, then stops, eyes widening as she seems to process what she’s looking at. Or who she’s looking at, most likely.
A wizened hand comes up to cover her mouth and she gasps, fear flashing through her eyes and no, no, no--
Fuck, he’d thought of this. He’d had a fucking plan for this, but he can’t remember it now and he really doesn’t want his ma calling security on him, because he has so much to say, and--
“Ma,” he says frantically, taking an aborted step forward. She shies away and he stops, hands flexing at his sides. “Ma, it’s me. I swear it’s me, I can explain.”
Sarah looks suddenly furious. “This is not funny, young man. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave this instant.”
Fuck, her voice. Her goddamn voice, as weak as it is now, still has the same strong cadence. The subtle Irish twang. And fuck, Steve can’t help it. He bursts into tears.
“Fuck,��� he says, falling to his knees. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think he could stomach the weight of everything that’s happened since he last saw her-- handle standing in front of her with blood on his hands, underneath his fingernails. In his goddamn soul. What would she even think of him now?
He sobs, biting down on a knuckle to keep silent, his other arm going around his stomach. It’s how he used to cry when he was much younger, and more frantic, and that seems to convince Sarah more than anything.
“Steven?” she says. She sounds incredulous. Damnit, she probably thinks she’s hallucinating. Steve had hallucinated a couple times when he was ill enough and his fever was high. Mostly his father, but he’ll digress.
He looks up, and he can barely see her through the tears that clump on his eyelashes. Sarah’s face does something complicated, then softens, and she reaches out a hand. Steve looks at it and sobs harder.
“Oh, Stevie. My boy, come here,” she says, because maybe he is a goddamn hallucination, but her instinct was always to comfort those in pain. She was a nurse, after all.
Steve is goddamn helpless.
He manages to get to her bedside, chest heaving as he buries his face in her stomach.
“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “It’s me, ma. I promise it’s me. I can explain, I swear.”
“I don’t doubt that you can explain,” Sarah says sternly, and fuck, he’d missed her chastising him. He can’t help it, he laughs, breathless and watery. “What happened to you? Why are you--” Big. Healthy. “Steven, you can’t be in here. I’m highly contagious.”
Steve shakes his head. “Don’t matter. I can’t get sick.” And oh, his accent is back. He hasn’t had one in years. Decades. A goddamn century.
Sarah lets out a strangled laugh that quickly turns into coughing, and Steve briefly wonders how close she is to death. She died in Winter, and it is sometime in Fall right now. Close then, he thinks. He hugs her harder as the coughing dies down.
“A stór, do you hear yourself? You had pneumonia last Summer.”
Summer. Last Summer. In this world, it had only been a mere few months without her. A fresh wave of grief washes over Steve, and then he can’t help another laugh, then another, and suddenly he’s cracking up into her stomach. Laughing like the insane man he feels he often is.
Sarah freezes, then reaches out to lift his face, their eyes meeting. His laughing stops. She gasps again.
“It really is you,” she murmurs, thumbs moving to the outside corners of his eyes, where there are two identical freckles. Little stars, she used to call them.
Steve offers her a brave smile. “Yeah, ma. It is.”
Sarah shakes her head. “What happened?” she asks again.
“I… so much,” Steve breathes. “I don’t know how to explain it all. I-- I don’t know where to start, but god, I just wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”
Sarah studies his face. “You’re so tired,” she says, thumb stroking his eye again. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. His lip trembles.
“So tired,” he agrees.
“You don’t need to tell me everything,” Sarah says. “I’m not sure I want to know. But I just… Steven, you look so different.”
Steve laughs, wiping at his eyes. “In a few years, there’s a war,” he says. Blunt-- they’d always been so straightforward with each other. “A scientist-- god, please don’t be mad-- a scientist offered, or… offers? Offered me an opportunity, and I took it.”
“Of course you did,” Sarah murmurs, looking fond and angry despite. She seems to set that train of thought aside. “Germany?” and oh, right. It’s already been in the news, the new reign.
“Yeah.”
Sarah hums. “My dear, you look like you’ve seen more than just war.”
Just war. As if any war was just anything.
As if his war ever truly stopped.
He casts his gaze down.
“Yeah,” he says again, and he thinks of Bucky, who’s also yet to come home from the war. Bucky, who is probably somewhere at the docks right now, untouched by anything but insecurity and financial hell. He desperately wishes they both can soon. This visit, he hopes, will bring him one step closer.
Sarah must read his mind, because her face clouds over.
“Bucky…?”
“Survives,” Steve says quickly, then backtracks. “Kind of. We both kind of died, then came back to life in the future and--” Sarah looks horrified now, and Steve shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s alive. We’re together.”
“Alright,” Sarah says slowly. “As long as you’re together.”
Steve nods, and fuck, he wishes he could have brought Bucky, too. Sam as well-- showed his ma his new friends. The brave new family he’s made for himself. The thought has his eyes swimming again, and he screws up his face, trying not to cry. He’s a goddamn mess. It’s ridiculous.
“I must admit, I’m quite confused,” Sarah says. “And sweetheart, you’re not talking.”
Steve shakes his head, and her arms come around him. He melts into the hold-- savors the feeling. Memorizes the pressure, her smell, and pockets it away for later.
“I just missed you so much is all,” he croaks. “And I-- ma… I’ve done so much. I’ve hurt so many people. Killed so many people, and I still feel so lost, and everything hurts and oh Christ, I’ve just-- I miss you.”
He had sworn to himself, before coming in, that he wouldn’t unload any of this onto her. But her warmth is all encompassing, and he craves her comfort. Her approval. Her strong, sure tone telling him everything will be okay.
That he will be okay. He has to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s not.
“Lord’s name,” Sarah murmurs, and Steve huffs another laugh. She runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t know how any of this is possible, but I do know you, dearheart. And I know that you are a good person. A gentle person-- my gentle boy, if you’d had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen violence. But you know more than anyone how mean the world can be. You might have had to make hard decisions, done bad things, but you, Steven, are not bad.”
Steve’s lips part. It doesn’t fix everything, the words-- it barely scrapes the surface of the wall of pain and guilt that suffocates him. But for a moment, the world seems clearer. Quieter. The ache in his chest lanced for one, freeing breath.
“Ma…” Steve says. He doesn’t know how to thank her-- what to say-- because here she is, offering him warmth and closure, even though she might still think he’s nothing but a figment of her imagination. He craves her compassion; her generosity. Swears to uphold it as best he can.
You always stand up, she once told him. He will still, he thinks. He always will. And he will now.
He’ll go home to his family-- his life-- and goddamn live finally. He’s been surviving for so long, he realizes. It’s about damn time for him to stand up and live.
“You’ve still got the same heart,” Sarah continues. She pokes his freckles again. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Steve lifts a hand to cover hers. Her hands are as soft as they always were and he turns his face to kiss her knuckles, then leans forward to kiss her cheek, eyes closing as memories of doing that before running off to school or to play flash through his mind. She smells faintly of vanilla. He wonders if she still dabs it behind her ears.
“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, ma. I love you. I love you so much-- thank you for being there for me. For raising me, and loving me.”
Sarah hugs him. Outside the room, there are voices; shuffling. He needs to go. The window is open, and they’re only three floors up.
“Loving you is the easiest thing that I’ve ever done,” Sarah says. She looks at the door. The voices are closer now. She kisses his forehead. Another echo of a life long gone. “Go now, Steven. Go home.”
Steve looks at her one last time, drinking in the love in her eyes. And as he climbs out the window, the too-tight doctor’s coat ripping around the shoulder seams, he can’t help but think that he’d gotten her eyes right whenever he’d painted her.
Her love won’t be something so easily forgotten.
-
Bucky catches him before he can collapse as he reappears on the launch pad. He lowers them to the ground, cradling Steve’s head with and letting him practically climb into his lap as he weeps, overwhelmed.
After a few minutes, he pulls back. Bucky’s watching him, concerned, and Steve leans in to gently kiss him.
“Steve?” Bucky asks, wary as they pull apart. He reaches out to swipe some tears off Steve’s cheeks.
Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he says. “All the stones are back-- everything’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over.”
Relief washes over Bucky’s face and he kisses Steve, smiling. “Oh god,” he murmurs. “Thank god.”
Steve wraps his arms around his neck, humming in agreement. Sam and Bruce are somewhere-- Steve can hear them talking-- but it’s distant.
They’re quiet for a long time, breathing in each other. Bucky’s arms feel so goddamn safe that Steve feels his resolve slipping again. He can tell Bucky things. He can be here with him now. Home.
“I went to see her,” he whispers.
Bucky stills where he was previously rocking them lightly.
“Her…” Bucky says, then shifts. “Your ma?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” Bucky squeezes him tighter. “How-- how was that? How did she…”
“She was confused. I don’t even know if she knew I was real.”
Bucky pauses, then kisses behind his ear. Steve thinks of vanilla again.
“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs.
“No, it was-- good. Needed. I feel… good.”
“That’s so good, honey.”
“She asked about you-- wanted to know if you were, um, alive. I told her you were.”
“Yeah?” Bucky asks, and there’s a small smile on his face now. Bucky had loved Sarah as if she were another mother, and Steve had done the same with Winnifred. It was a privilege to have had both of their protective arms. “What did she say?”
“She said, ‘as long as we’re together’.”
Bucky smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve wants to reach out and touch, so he does, because he can do that now. Bucky is tangible. He is here.
“She’s got a point,” Bucky says. He goes back to rocking them and Steve rests his head on his shoulder. He hears Bucky start to say something, then stop.
“What?” he asks, pulling back.
Bucky studies him. “Did you want to stay?” It isn’t accusatory, just curious, and Steve considers it.
“Maybe a little,” he admits. “Just… instinctively. It’s an opportunity I might have taken up if someone offered it ten years ago, but… I’m a ghost there now, like I was a ghost here, and I don’t want to do that again.” He bites his lip, shaking his head. “I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to.”
Bucky nods, cupping Steve’s cheek and thumbing his jaw affectionately. “I hear you,” he says. “I was just wondering.”
“And besides, my ma told me to go home before I left,” Steve said, cupping Bucky’s cheek in return. “So I did.”
Bucky smiles, and presses their foreheads together.
“We can do that now,” Bucky says. “We can go home. We can rest.”
And there are still things to do-- Steve doesn’t think there ever won’t be things to be done. But that can wait for another day.
“Yeah,” he agrees. He’s grungy, dirt digging in bone deep from the whirlwind of the last few weeks. He smirks, climbing off Bucky’s lap. “But I call first shower.”
Bucky snorts and stands, pulling Steve up.
“Yeah, whatever, asshole.”
Yeah. The world can wait another day.
-
There’s a bottle of vanilla in the spice cabinet. Steve sees it as he’s looking for the cinnamon. The kitchen is empty, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s not alone.
He takes the vanilla out and dabs some onto his fingers, gently rubbing it behind his ears. He closes his eyes, letting the smell wash over him. He can still feel his ma’s arms around him, keeping him warm.
Home. He’s home.
-
thanks for reading yall aflkdjflaksjdf
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#post endgame#i swore to myself i wouldnt write an endgame fix it but here i am i guess#stucky fic#sarah rogers#my queen#my love#i love her#oop
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Alright, now that I got some sleep, time for an overly long analysis on Tommy’s second prison visit!
I’m only talking about character in the rp from here on out, not the cc’s unless explicitly stating otherwise
-
First of all, a clarification is in order: was it Dream’s plan from the very start to get put in prison to end up in this situation? No. Does this mean he couldn’t have caused this to turn things in his favour? Also no.
Dream has proven before that he’s a rather flexible character (kinda has to be with a nemesis like Tommy), he’s been put multiple times in unexpected situations and managed to come out of top. We don’t know if he expected L’Manburg to be reborn after the 16th, and yet he managed to have the whole cabinet wrapped around his fingers. He didn’t expect Tommy to threaten him with Spirit, and yet he spun it around on him. We also know he didn’t expect Tommy to leave Logsteshire (he was talking about it with Punz, it’s the reason he went to check on him shortly after because he realized he may have stepped too far and broken Tommy out of his manipulation there) which offered him the opportunity to frame him for the community house disaster later on.
He is nothing if not resorceful.
Another thing we have to discuss when talking about the visit is the themes of their relationship:
- Dream’s possessiveness/obsession
- The whole Dream finding Tommy “fun”
- Their “game”
More under the cut
- For the first point, when I say “possessivness” I mean that Dream literally regards himself almost as Tommy’s owner. Don’t believe me? Let’s talk about how he treats Tommy’s canon life then!
Remember all the way back during exile? To keep Tommy in line Dream consistently threatened to take his last life, implying that he would have been fine with Tommy dying, yet, as soon as Tommy showed signs of wanting to take his own life, Dream bust out the line “it’s not your time to die yet”, 2 times in fact. Why? Well, Dream wants control in all things, not only that, but he clearly thinks he’s in the right in wanting it. Of course the life of his favourite toy is no exception. Also let’s not forget about the terrifying scene on top of the obsidian grid where, when Tommy said that their story would be over soon, Dream immediately took control again assuring him it would never be over.
There is also Tommy explicitly stating that Dream was “borderline his owner”, in case we needed an additional affirmation, in the stream where Mexican Dream made an appearance in exile.
Also, I have to mention that during the first Prison visit Dream, when talking about what he missed, grouped Tommy together with “his stuff”... can’t get much clearer then that
- Dream’s describing Tommy as “Fun” has been a reoccurring creepy theme between them. But is it soley done out of manipulation or does Dream actually feel that way in his twisted world view? I’d say a bit of both to be honest.
Clearly there is a level of gaslighting with it were he used to say it at the very start of Tommy’s exile to get him in the frame of mind of considering Dream his friend and trying to convince him that they always had fun together (trying to get him to switch his anger from being directed at Dream to being directed at his old friends), but that’s not all.
Dream, in cutting all his known attachments, is left with only Tommy as an attachment, Jack is right on that one, which is the rason why his obsession seems so extreme. That said, it’s pretty obvious that he does sort of find his relationship with Tommy “fun”. It’s the reson why literally everyone else is a replaceable pawn, but Tommy isn’t. Don’t get me wrong here: he doesn’t see him as a human and, despite him “caring” in his twisted way, there is NOTHING healthy about their relationship. But it is still important to point out that Tommy is extremely important to Dream.
- Their game is something we’re all well aware of. They are regarded by so many people as the hero and the villain of the server, even though neither of them accepts their assigned role. That said they both view the other in the role assigned to them. Dream doesn’t see himself as a villain, but he does see Tommy as a hero and vice-versa. And, just like that, the stage for their “game” is set.
Only problem? Only one of them is playing the game. We know this from the season 2 finale: the reason Dream kept coming down and trusting Tommy was because he thought Tommy was as attached to their “game” as he was, but he was wrong. Tommy HAS other attachments, plenty of them, he’s not dependent on Dream and that’s also probably why Dream is so obsessed with him in the first place: everyone else is predictable, easy to use. They aren’t surprising, they aren’t “fun” (remember that? Remember Dream goning “Tubbo isn’t fun” when Tommy said he had as much value as himself? Because I sure do) they are boring pawns.
You’d think he may think differently of someone like Techno but, despite him acknowledging his strenght, he has no reason to think he won’t be able to use him every time at the smallest promise of violence as it worked every time before. George and Sapnap? When’s the last time Dream showed them he cared in any way? He used them time and time again and then left them behind when the relationships required work on his side to mantain. He didn’t even speak to Sapnap during his visit! He regards Quackity as barely an annoyance (remember what history left on him in the Lost City of Mizu? Just a Fool). Punz and Sam were both people he paid, only means to an end. They ALL played his game and followed his rules, which is what made them predictable. It's what makes them so replaceable.
-
Now that the themes are established, let’s move on to the analysis of the visit itself!
First of all: big foreshadowing from Sam with the missing books (which Tommy admitted to not remembering the content of) and from Tommy saying how much he trusted and appreciated Sam. It doesn’t have much to do with the analysis, but we all pointed it out.
That said, what was Tommy’s objective with this visit? Closure. Tommy wanted to make their game finally stop for good, he wanted to reclaim the control over his life that he hasn’t had for a while now. Not over his literal last life nor over hid day to day life. Both used to be controlled by Dream.
Dream “loosing” his clock is the first information we learn. But, remember during Bad’s visit when Bad convinced Sam to give Dream one last chance to get his clock back if he behaved? And then again with Sapnap? Dream wanted the clock to go, that’s why he kept burning it despite the warnings. Why? Could it be that he was planning to get someone to stay with him in there? Isolation affects you much harder when you’re not aware of the passage of time after all...
“That’s the Tommy I know!” from the start of the visit Dream is trying to re-establish their “bond” and get Tommy in the mindset of them being “friends” again. I mean, it’s not a coincidence that he’s never been this talkative or friendly in any of the visits from other people.
Other point in favour of Dream having planned this long stay is the sheer number of potatoes he had stored. Also, may I add that he immediately started giving them to Tommy? He started before the tnt and explosions, before he should have known Tommy was gonna stay. He never did this before during any of the visits we’ve seen. Establishing his role as provider again like back in exile I see...
Dream also started immediately demanding for Tommy to visit him more, but Tommy does turn it down just as quickly by explaining that that would be the last visit (if Dream wasn’t planning to act this time, he changed his mind in this moment. He’s very adaptable remember? And his main accomplice was online...). Of course, Dream isn’t happy about it.
We already established that Tommy is the only one he finds “fun” (as far as we know), having him stopping visitations entirely wouldn’t be good for Dream. There is also the fact that Tommy is deciding to move on on his own. It’s Tommy’s choice under Tommy’s complete control and Dream has already shown he’s not too kin on that being a thing.
“Anything you want to say to me now, you have to say to me now, because I’m not visiting you again” “Why?” I’m highlighting this piece of dialogue because I think it’s pretty indicative of Dream still being convinced that they’re both still playing the game. Sure, Tommy outplayed him for now, but the game is not over, is it? Tommy can’t just decide to drop him can he? They both have so much “fun” after all...
Of course though, to Tommy the “why” should be obvious. Because of Dream he’s struggling with severe ptsd. He’s afraid of plains biomes, of lava, of heights to a certain degree, of black stone (both because of the Attachments vault and the Final Control Room on this one), of tnt, of small holes (big enough to drop your items in as he said), of giving up his stuff and of Dream acting Friendly. Dream hurt him a great deal to the point were he’s not managing to settle down even now, he’s still afraid. How can Dream not see how he hurt him? How can he not understand? In Tommy's mind it just doesn't make sense.
TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES (had to add this because it was just funny... why are there always bloopers with this 2?)
Potatoes again. Again the tnt had not started to go off yet. And Tommy eats them again immediately, of course. I can’t stress this enough, but this is done again to re-establish the dependency tommy had on Drem during exile. While he didn’t entirely depend on dream for food (he barely ate and he had Mushroom Henry), he used to be entirely dependent on him for protection, getting to the point where he would hardly defend himself from the mobs when they attacked him even when Dream wasn't around. Of course Dream can’t provide “safety” while he’s in prison, so he has to find something else.
“You had all this shit coming” “I did but... you know... maybe one day” “No! Have you seen this prison? It’s kind of the most secure thing ever” They are talking about two different things here. Dream is implying that, maybe, they’ll let him out in the future while Tommy, having already decided to move on and not worry about Dream anymore, is implying that the only way Dream is getting out is if he manages to escape, which he won’t. Quite different from the first visit were Tommy showed quite a bit of hesitance when asked if he would ever let Dream out.
“Unless you have extreme therapy” Tommy recognizing the importance of therapy I see! No, but, more importantly, this goes to show that Tommy is moving on from his exclusively vengful mindset he had at the start (which was more then understandable, btw). At the start of this visit he said he didn’t think that Dream deserved to die anymore and now he’s recognizing that he needs help, Tommy however also knows he’s not the one who should be helping him, he can’t. Still, he’s empathizing with him, because he can’t help doing so. Despite everything, Tommy always tends to see others as their own individuals, even when the same is often not true in reverse.
“I mean exile wasn’t that bad... right? I mean, we hung out” again, tying it back to the themes in their relationship, this fits so well. Of course exile wasn’t that bad, right? After all: why would Tommy have needed anyone else when he had his Best Pal Dream? And here’s the thing: we can’t know how much of what Dream says is just manipulation and how much of it he believes, but Dream has shown enough signs of being dependent on Tommy as his only attachment that we can assume there is, at the very least, some level of truth in this. I mean, if you remember back when he blew up Logstedshire, he didn’t even wanna believe that Tommy was suicidal. Tommy told him directly, but was dismissed. Why? Not because Dream wasn’t extremely opposed to him taking his own life, he’d already shown that not to be the case. Perhaps because he actually didn’t think it was that bad? Maybe he didn't want to admit he pushed him too far? Did he actually view himself and Tommy to be Dream’s own twisted version of “friends”? It’s a possibility and it’s what this visit seems to imply.
“When I’m around you I feel like my brain is conditioned to be your friend, but also when I have a knife I wanna just plunge it into your heart... you don’t make me a good person!” This seems to be a rather recurrent theme with Tommy and the mentor figures in his life. Wilbur trying to convince him (albeit not managing to) to just blow it all up and give in to his aggressive nature. Techno wanting to “bring him to the side of evil” and making him more violent in the process. Now we have confirmation that Dream himself makes him lash out more (though we could see this already when he was in exile in how he lashed out at Jack Manifold without the latter having done anything to deserve it). There is also the confusion to point out. While Tommy is trying to move on he’s clearly in no way “healed”, he’s still very much suffering from the consequences of Dream’s abuse and manipulation. He still doesn’t know exactly how to feel about him because, despite everything, he feels compelled not to hate him entirely.
“You’re a bad guy” “Well I did bad things, but everyone thinks they’re right from their perspective” “That’s not true” I haven’t seen almost anyone talk about this exchange, but it’s such an important one! As we said, Tommy views Dream as a villain, Dream doesn’t (he admits to having done bad things, but not to being bad because of them). Dream also sees Tommy as a hero, but Tommy doesn’t (Tommy doesn’t even view himself as “the good guy” in his own story, which ties in to his big self worth problems). It’s an interesting dynamic to be sure.
“Well I think I’m right. I did bad things, but I did them for good reasons” “What good reasons?” “I wanted to bring the server together you know? Make it a big happy family” This is the second time Dream brings up unity as his ultimate goal (the first being with Punz). Of course we know that the “unity” he wants it’s under his complete control. It’s not an objective that we can see as positive, but he does, or, at least, if he’s telling the truth about it, he may actually believe in it. Now, while this is the second time he brought up “unity” directly he did also strongly imply in the season 2 finale that that was his intention when explaining he was doing everything to get the server to “how it used to be”, back in the idealized past with no conflicts that never existed. Dream is deluded in the literal sense of the word, I would say it’s pretty probable there is at least some truth in his declared objective (truth in the form of him actually believing the bs he spews).
At this point Tommy is done. He’s drawing an end to the visit and Dream started getting more frantic. He started insisting on how he’s “changing” and insisting for Tommy to go visit him again. Ngl, I think this was probably to buy time for his accomplice (who is very possibly enderwalk!Ranboo) to get there. Because, if he let Tommy go, their game would truly be over, and Dream can’t stand that.
And cue the explosions!
So: Dream managed to buy enough time and, by the prison's protocols, Tommy is now stuck with him up to 7 days. He can’t leave which means Dream gets another chance to force him into continuing their game.
Quite a few people pointed it out, but, from this point onwards, Dream gets much more assertive and controlling in his demeanor. He drops the whole “insecure” act that he had going on in his enunciation and general behaviour and goes back to being like the old Dream (you would almost think that all that talk about “having changed” was just absolute bs, though he keeps insisting on it throughout)
Tommy’s behaviour also changes. He gets much more paniked (no doubt a combination of way too many of his triggers being present at once) and pliant. He starts calling out for Sam and asking to be let out but, of course, that doesn’t happen as Sam has to take care of the security breach first and foremost.
Dream starts immediately harping on Tommy being stuck there (probably to increase his panic, as he's easier to influence when he's distressed), first pointing out how “Sam can’t hear him” and then that the tnt must indicate a “security problem” (which he then explains he knows the consequences of because he wrote the book). By now he’s dropped his meek act entirely and he’s showing to be much more smug and self assured (a big contrast with Tommy having a very obvious panic attack). As we already said: he got what he wanted, he basically won already. All he needs to do now is get Tommy back to how he used to be in exile (”when they had fun” in Dream’s words...).
At this point there is only one question left to be answered: Why did he do all of this? How does this benefits dream?
Clearly this didn’t help him to get out. The security may actually increase because of it. Right? Well...
“I mean... if you want a way to get out, let’s get out together! We can work it out, we can-” “Fuck off” “Then there is no way out” I’m going out on a limb here and saying that, perhaps, Dream may know a way to get out provided 2 people cooperate on it. Tommy wouldn’t help him yet, but, who knows what he may do after spending way too much time locked in a small room, with a lava fall on the side and Dream to top off the list of his worst nightmares...
“Are you trying to get out?” “I’m not trying to get out, I’m not trying to get out!” a bit of a contradiction here, considering he proposed getting out together like 2 minutes before (coupled with his insistence on “one day...”)... however “I’m not trying to get out (yet)” may be a way to interpret his words more truthfully. If he just needed an accomplice to get out, he would have probably used Ranboo, but there is something else he wants as well...
(btw, potatoes AGAIN multiple times, especially every time Tommy is particularly distressed, and Dream also brings up Tommy being on his last canon life again in the context of this being “just like exile”... man do be trying hard with those parallels...)
You see, he already told us that he still sees his objective as good. He still wants control. He still wants his game to go on. And there is one person he elected to be the key to everything...
“I’m telling you you’re stuck in here for a little while with me, were we can bond, we can talk, just like old times, right? You know... just like exile” “Tommy this is the best thing that’s happened to me since I got in this prison, because now we can be company, we can stay together!” “Fine, fine, you’re done with me in a couple days, when you get out of here” “Tommy it’s not that bad! We can- we have lot’s of time to bond” Ngl... something tells me his other objective is very obvious... and we talked about it to death by now. But, in case it wasn't clear to someone, he wants to get back what (or who in his case) he considers to be his most cherished possession (again, do NOT interpret this as a "good" thing. It isn't. Dream literally treats Tommy as his toy, it isn't healthy and I've seen way too many people in chat trying to imply otherwise and calling it "cute". It's not cute, it's abuse)
“Tommy you’re stuck in here with me wether you like it or not, ok?! Wether you like it or not you’re in here with me for a WHILE, we’re gonna talk, we’re gonna have lot’s of fun” I just wanted to point out again how much Dream’s demeanor changed from the start now that he’s back in control. He’s not asking Tommy to talk to him, he’s not giving him a choice in it. Tommy already said how he doesn’t wanna talk and “get to know him better”, but that doesn’t matter. He has no power anymore. He doesn’t have the power to leave NOR the power to ignore Dream, as much as he wants to. Also, after this, Dream seriously ramps up the whole “We’re gonna have so much fun!” shtick...
And you want to know the saddest part of the ending? Tommy is already cracking (honestly, not surprising. He’s been through WAY too much by now...)
He started asking Dream for confirmation of whether all of this was “serious” (just like he needed to ask if things were real back in exile... or generally Dream’s opinion on everything). He also asked for more potatoes in a dejected tone (I know it may not seem that serious, but, as I said, it is just another way to create the dependency that Dream wants), showing a beginning of acceptance for Dream’s role as provider once again. Together with the very obvious “I can’t do this” and the black screen right after it creates a very worrying picture.
In conclusion: Dream is already dependant on Tommy, but the opposite not being true was a big part of his downfall. So, before he can get out, he has to work on getting Tommy back to exile!Tommy only this time he’ll be even more careful not to do some dumb mistake probably...
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As anxious as I am to see how this will develop I do also think it’s one of the most interesting outcomes they could have had!
Also can we please take a moment to appreciate how WELL cc!Dream anc cc!Tommy manage to handle this incredibly serious scenes? Like, they bounce off of each other perfectly and, as someone who’s done theater themselves, I cannot commend them for managing to do so well in IMPROV enough!
They are honestly so great! Let’s get some serious love and appreciation for them to close on a positive note!
Also @mysweatymakerstudentworld
#tommyinnit#dreamwastaken#tw suicide#tw abuse#tw manipulation#exile arc#dream smp#Dream smp spoilers#long post#my post#analysis#relationship analysis#this is the sequel to rapunzel where she's stuck on the tower with mother goethel#I can't imagine it ending well...
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