#nightmares usually but its like. everything. fear of continuing. fear of ending

[dockaspbrak]

The night time dread is so severe rn;;;

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick

Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.

Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:

Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.

And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.

Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.

Why do you deserve this scholarship? “My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”

Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.

There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.

~~~~~~

Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.

The local birds:

~~~~~~

Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans. This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare. Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains. Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table. Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.

Jason: …So, what's now? Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords. Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than… Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see. Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet. Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.

~~~~~

Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule. The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.

Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.

Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?

Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.

~~~~~

Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.

Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.

Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.

Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me. Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.

Red Hood: And why? Danny: It’s hard to explain… Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me. Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you. Jason: ..So what? Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you? Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses? Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.

Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go. Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.

~~~~~

Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman: Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission! Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls! Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me! Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base. Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.

~~~~~

Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here. Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us. Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..' Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure. Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that. Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.

Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job. Henchmen: scream

~~~~~

Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.

[kynizen]

♡ obey me hcs ~ fading

prompt. as your absence from the present day persists, the demons find themselves struggling. though your room remains in pristine condition, other indicators of your presence are slowly fading. gn reader.

ft. asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

warnings. angst, hurt no comfort, mentions of depression & associated behaviors, slight suggestive mentions in asmo’s section

a/n — gods, obey me is a series with so much angst potential. as much as I adore fluff, angst is definitely something. I hope you enjoy this little set! the other four brothers will also have a set coming soon! <3

🌧️ asmodeus ;;

~ Asmo is one of the most affected by your disappearance. He tries his best to play it off casually— tries to act like he usually does. Because you never stay gone for long, right? You always find a solution and come back home to him, so surely, this time would be no different.

~ However, as the days pass, you don’t return. Solomon’s assessment and assistance doesn’t seem to be helping, either. While the sorcerer is certain that you will return… it’s anyone’s guess as to when it’ll happen.

~ When that realization sets in, Asmodeus becomes far more gloomy and upset. He sees you in everything he does— he can hardly enjoy himself when the person he loves just as much as himself isn’t there. Each time he tries to have a spa night, go shopping, or take cute photos, he’s reminded of you.

~ It always ends with him scrolling through countless photos with you— wondering how long it’d be until he saw your smile again— until he saw your presence once more.

~ Asmo is desperate to feel close to you again. He’s afraid of touching anything in your room for fear of losing the last proof that your existence has a mark in this timeline, but he can’t help himself.

~ He ends up stealing your clothing from your closet. If you had a perfume or cologne you liked wearing, he’d take that too. He reasons that he’ll just replace it when you return… if you ever come home.

~ For the most part, he holes up in his room, taking less and less care of himself as the days pass. He’ll spray your perfume/cologne on his things just to be reminded of you— just to feel like you hadn’t disappeared. He’ll wear your clothing to feel close to you— to get the ghost of a comforting presence he can’t help but miss.

~ As time continues to pass, Asmo becomes unable to look in the mirror. He knows he hasn’t been taking care of his appearance. On top of that, he doesn’t want to see his unblemished skin— not when his last memory was of you biting bruises into his skin and leaving marks on his hips.

~ That physical reminder that you loved him— up until you disappeared— he’d be unable to keep himself together if he had to see it fade. Because that’d solidify that this wasn’t just some nightmare. You were really somewhere else— and this time, there was no way to reach you.

~ At this point, insecurity starts to rear its ugly head. If you’re to return, will you even love him anymore? If he’s been too sad to take care of himself— hardly able to find happiness in anything without you— would you still love him?

~ Would you abandon him again the moment you realize that he’d desperately need to cling to you— that he had to cling to remnants of your presence just to stay sane?

~ He hates himself for thinking that. He knows you didn’t abandon him— that you wouldn’t have left if it had been your choice. But he can’t help the way his emotions muddy his mind. You were always there to help him when things got this complicated.

~ Asmo spends many nights crying— listening to your voicemails and drowning himself in your memory.

~ Eventually, he does get to a point where his brothers intervene to try their best to help him. They try to keep him distracted, help him take care of himself, and keep him company so he doesn’t feel the pain of your absence.

~ But… they know just as well as Asmodeus does that it’ll never be the same. Asmodeus loves himself, yes, but…

~ He specifically loves who he is with you. Now that you’re gone… he doesn’t feel nearly as cute, pretty, handsome— nearly as himself as he does when you’re around.

🌧️ beelzebub ;;

~ Despite how pained Beel is at your disappearance, he’d worry himself over the way it’d affect Belphie as opposed to himself. He’d spend a lot of time worrying about everyone else aside from himself— wanting to ensure that his brothers eat, sleep, and take care of themselves.

~ However, when he has a moment alone— a moment that isn’t made busy by caring for others— the crushing weight of your absence weighs heavily on him.

~ In moments of doubt, he could always go to you. You were always there to reassure and comfort him— to take care of him and his needs when he was so focused on everyone else. You always made sure that he wasn’t kind to the point of self-sabotage.

~ Without you around, he notices himself smiling less and less— finding it hard to be optimistic without your light shining on him. He wouldn’t lash out, instead internalizing everything he feels.

~ Is he allowed to be upset with you when it was out of your control? Is he allowed to be angry? He isn’t sure. Who would he even direct anger at? He wasn’t mad at you, just at the situation you happened to end up in for whatever reason— whoever was behind your disappearance is to blame, not you. He knows that.

~ Beelzebub struggles greatly with your fading presence. Leftovers you cooked slowly dwindled, and the snack stock you shared with him grew more and more scarce as the days passed. It becomes more and more apparent to him that you are gone.

~ You never left the fridge empty for long. The snack pile always seemed to replenish the moment it started growing the slightest bit smaller. On top of that, Beel felt like he never went hungry with you around. You always carried something for him, whether you were out and about or at RAD.

~ Now… he isn’t even sure if anyone in the House or Lamentation has even cooked, let alone went shopping for groceries in the wake of your disappearance. Hell, Beel wasn’t even sure the last time he had the strong appetite he associated with his sin.

~ Nowadays, he was eating what’d be considered a “normal” volume for other demons, but was starkly out of character for Beelzebub. No matter what his brothers brought him— what people tried to offer him in an attempt to get him to eat more— to smile again— it never worked.

~ He’d eat a little, enjoy a fleeting moment of happiness before remembering that you were no longer there to enjoy food with him, and he’d quickly excuse himself. Food tasted bland without you— like it was all the same taste and texture.

~ He used to enjoy mealtime because it meant lighthearted conversation and warm company during each and every meal. Now, each meal he shared with brothers was framed by the lack of your presence. And meals alone did nothing to satiate what hunger he did feel.

~ It became nothing more than a function to him. He’d try recreating your recipes just to become frustrated or disappointed when it didn’t taste the same. It didn’t have your touch— your added flair. Everything he made had that same bland, tasteless flavor to it.

~ He tries his best to continue his day to day while coping with your absence. He knows he has to still go out and do things— that’s how people feel better, right?

~ But his daily routine simply reminds you that it isn’t the same routine if you aren’t there. Waking up early to share a meal, walking to RAD together, dragging Belphie out of bed together— none of it felt the same when you weren’t there.

~ Beel’s daily life starts to lose color. And though he feels he shouldn’t burden his brothers with his struggles, it’s hard for them not to notice. When he forces a smile or forces himself to eat so they don’t worry, it only increases their ever-growing concern.

~ They try their best to keep him company and urge him to open up more to them, but they know they can’t force him.

~ Beel has a preconceived notion, likely from their past as a family, that makes him believe he has to be a mediator— he has to keep the peace between everyone with no regard to himself.

~ And you… were the only one who managed to break those walls down and cared deeply for him. Now, they hope you’ll return before Beel becomes entirely unreachable.

🌧️ belphegor ;;

~ Belphegor tries his best to act apathetic toward your disappearance. It isn’t a big deal— he can wait for you to return. Though, he isn’t exactly fooling anyone at all.

~ How could he fool anyone when he slept in your room almost every night? How could he fool anyone when he was adamant on not waking up and attending class if it wasn’t you rousing him from slumber?

~ At the end of the day, Belphie doesn’t want to admit how much of a wreck he is without you. He already views himself in a less than favorable light. He’s a burden upon his siblings— hardly able to last an entire day without sleeping, practically collapsing, the moment his body demanded rest.

~ However, you never made him feel that way. Never once did you make him believe that the condition that came with his sin made him a burden. You were happy to take care of him. You carried him when he fell asleep— let him rest on your shoulder between classes and woke him up when it was time to go.

~ How could he manage even a day’s worth of tiring work if you weren’t there to support him? He’d be reminded all over again that he’s weighed down by his sin. He’d be reminded that it’s hard to manage without you.

~ Sure, he could likely manage it without you, but he doesn’t want to. Wouldn’t that just erase your presence from his life? Getting his act together means accepting that maybe he didn’t need you as much as he thought— and that’s something he refuses to accept. In his eyes, that’s essentially accepting that you wouldn’t return.

~ Then again, the dreamscape wasn’t much better than reality. Sure, he could meet you in his dreams, but he was always aware that that’s all it was— a fantasy. It wasn’t actually you. It never would be.

~ So Belphie starts suffering from periods of insomnia followed by long periods of slumber exacerbated by the exhaustion of his insomnia. He’ll spend hours upon hours awake at the dead of night, waiting for you to walk back through those doors.

~ Then, he spends nearly days asleep in your bed, unable to be roused from his deep sleep— clinging on to the remnants of you left in your room. Nowadays, he can hardly sleep unless he’s surrounded by your scent— and even that’s slowly disappearing from your blankets and bedsheets. He’s afraid to think about what’ll happen when it does entirely disappear.

~ Some days, he holes away in his old room— a quiet sanctuary where you’d spend a night in with him. He never touched anything you left there. Your clothing and accessories that you left still remained in the same place— your blankets still a mess on your side of the pile of pillows you’d sleep in with him.

~ Every time he looks at the things you left— every time he thinks of you— he feels regret. He knows that it wasn’t your choice to leave, but did you stay away because of him? Did you truly never forgive him after all? Was experiencing a new timeline amplifying preexisting resentment you held toward him?

~ Was it his fault that you hadn’t come home?

~ The mere thought is enough for him to send him down an ugly spiral. Just like with Lilith— this is her situation all over again. Disappearing, not dead, but always somewhere out of reach. Somewhere away from him.

~ At a certain point, he’d close himself off from his brothers entirely. Beelzebub would be able to get through to him since they’re twins, but the rest of them would be effectively shut out. Nothing they did would soothe the pain caused by your absence.

~ It gets to the point where Belphie sheds tears in his sleep— haunted by nightmares of his past mixed with your present. He’s more lethargic than ever— his sleep constantly interrupted by visions of your death, rejection, and hatred— all of that mixed with reemerging visions of the things that happened to Lilith. Every time he startles awake, tears silently stream down his face.

~ His brothers can only watch, unable to do much more than offer support that Belphegor doesn’t even want.

~ They wonder how much longer Belphie will last. When you return… they hope it’ll be to a Belphegor that isn’t just a shell of his former self. They hope you’ll come home on time.

tags.

[lil-elle]

A Waking Nightmare

group: xikers

pair: sumin x gn!reader

genre: angst, lil fluff, best friends to lovers

word count: 3.1k

content: blood, mentions of death, mild description of injuries, coarse language

a/n: sumin isn't even my bias and the part at the end gave me butterflies omo

“Sumin!” Your voice was swallowed up by loud rumbling and cracking of the building walls as you clung desperately to your best friend sitting next to you.

Who knew how quickly a normal school day could be turned on its head? Your normal lunchtime routine of hanging out with Sumin in the stairwell, snug in a little space underneath the stairs you and him discovered one day while skipping class, had suddenly become a nightmare as pieces of concrete continuously chipped off from from the sheer force of quaking earth.

You felt one of Sumin's strong arms encircle your body as he used the other to pull your head into his chest, shielding you. Your own screams felt like a distant sound, as if coming from someone else a few rooms down rather than your own throat. Your lungs felt hot as you coughed harshly from the dust being thrown around the two of you, your hands gripping his shirt.

You almost convinced yourself the shaking would never stop, that this was some punishment for skipping class, being rude to your mom, not telling your best friend, Sumin, how you really felt about him. You don't even remember when you had started crying, the tears on your face hot and speckled with dust and debris.

When everything finally stopped moving and you came to your senses, you felt completely trapped, eyes shut in fear as sobs continued to tear from your throat. “This is it. I'm going to die here today.” You thought as your body trembled from adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your breaths were erratic and the loud beating of your heart made your ears feel like they were ringing.

A gentle touch to your cheek made your eyes crack open involuntarily, the view in front of you blurred by your still flowing tears and the puffiness of your eyelids. And yet, despite the blur, the familiar golden head of hair in front of you helped to calm your heart and come to your senses a little.

“S-S-Sumin!” Your voice was shaky and unsteady, still fighting the coughs and sobs that wanted to bubble up from your chest. You unclenched your now sore and cramping fingers from his shirt and gently touched your fingertips to his cheek, dust from the crumbling walls forming a layer over his soft skin. That's when you realised that one of his arms was still wrapped strongly around you, the two of you so close that his forehead was pretty much leant against yours. He'd removed his other arm from behind your head and his hand had settled on the side of your face, thumb continuing to wipe tears from your cheeks and eyes in a gentle way that was out of character from his usual rough nature.

That's when your eyes really came into focus, adjusting to the now darkness and registering Sumin's strained face leaning over you, eyebrows pulled tight in obvious pain, hair ashy from the collapsing walls, and a deep red dripping from the top of his head all the way down his nose bridge. Blood.

“F-fuck. Sumin!?” You let your eyes wander the area around the two of you and finally realised just how caved in you were, the small space you had once appreciated as a little private area for you and him now being a pocket sealed by large fallen chunks of concrete, all of which Sumin had taken the brunt of directly to his back and head while protecting you. A deep hot guilt and fear grew in your stomach as your hands held and poked at his face and shoulders as if trying to panickedly inspect him for injuries, of which you had no idea how many he could have, while you lay completely unscathed in his protective hold. You couldn't hold back your sobs anymore as a drop of his blood fell from the tip of his nose onto your cheek. You found your breath picking up again as you began sobbing out his name over and over, as if saying it enough would turn back the time or heal all of his wounds. Your mind was racing, half of it looking for an escape with the other half screaming desperately for this whole thing to be a nightmare and for you to wake up already.

“Hey…” A deep, gravelly voice cut through your panic, and your eyes opened again as your breathing began to slow at the sight of a pained smile on his face. You felt angry. Angry at yourself that he could smile in this situation when you could do nothing but scream and cry. Angry at yourself that he was willing to take the full force of everything just to protect you. You didn't deserve that protection.

Your tears flowed like waterfalls and he continued wiping them from your face with weak, shaky movements.

“I'm sorry…” you sobbed out, trembling with every breath, “y-you're hurt…a-and it's my fault…”

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours, careful in his movements as if afraid to disturb the pile of rubble he was holding on his back.

“Hey…shh….” His voice was strained and his breathing shallow. “It's not your fault…nothing is your fault.”

You could only respond with sobs, cupping his face in your hands and closing your eyes as you allowed the warmth that flowed from him to you through his forehead to comfort you. His other hand reassuringly tightened on your waist.

“Shhhh…it's okay…you're okay…”

“I-I feel so useless…” you cried. “You're hurt and I can't do anything but just sit here...” You spat the words out, the hatred you felt for yourself in that moment obvious with every word that left your lips. He just stared at you with a despairing expression, the way you're putting all the blame on yourself breaking his heart into pieces. “...We're going to die here…” You muttered, almost becoming too weak now to even sob.

“Hey…look at me.” You reluctantly opened your eyes back up, meeting his dustied and bloodied face once again, a sight that made your stomach churn in such a way that you almost thought you were going to throw up. “I'm here…okay?” His voice was comforting despite the strain on it. He'd always had a unique way of making you feel safe no matter what. “You're not going to die…as long as I'm here, nothing can hurt you.” Just when you thought you had exhausted yourself, tears pricked at your eyes again. You were angry at the way your heart pounded and butterflies filled your stomach even in such a hopeless situation as this.

“But…you might die, Sumin…” your voice was much softer now, weaker. “You're bleeding…a-and I don't know how badly you're hurt…I'm so scared…”

“I know…” he spoke, running a thumb softly over your cheek, “but I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm not leaving you.”

You could feel your panic slowly dissipating as his comforting words penetrated your heart and tears slipped calmly down your cheeks.

“Aren't you scared…?” You looked into his eyes as you spoke, voice still shaking.

“Terrified.” Your eyes widened slightly at the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “But not of dying.” He tenderly caressed your cheek. “Of losing you…” Your heart began pounding hard in your chest and your eyes stung with fresh tears once again. “Terrified of the idea that…I might’ve lived the last few years keeping my true feelings from you…only for my life to end before I could even tell you…”

Suddenly you froze. Your heart felt like it had gone from rapidly pounding to completely still and the only word you could mutter in that moment was what had become your favourite and most used word over these past few years.

“Sumin…”

His familiar wide smile crept onto his face and he nuzzled his forehead against yours.

“...I love you…but you already know that, don't you?” He said with a slight teasing tone that sounded slightly off from the roughness in his voice but still managed to make you smile.

“I do…”

He was your very own superhero. Your own knight in shining armour. He was absolutely everything to you and just the simple thought of your life without him was too much to bear.

There was a very subtle redness that had entered his cheeks, very inappropriate for the situation but it made you smile and your heart race nonetheless.

You were convinced that the two of you could've stayed admiring each other like that for hours had the situation been different, but a slight tremor shaking the building one last time broke you from your spell and you shut your eyes tight as fear began building inside of you once again. A sudden hiss of pain from Sumin filled you with panic again as the small aftershock shifted the debris on top of him and weighed him down further.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” You mumbled, eyes darting around in a frenzy, looking for some kind of means of escape. It seemed luck was on your side as you noticed a tiny crevice in the chunks of concrete where light was leaking through like a sign of hope. Carefully, you lifted your leg and jammed your heel into the rubble with all your strength, feeling it loosen up slightly and quickly repeating the motion a few more times. With a swift kick, you managed to knock a small piece out and disrupt the integrity of the rest of the pile, only for a large piece of concrete to land squarely on your other leg, jamming it in place. You cried out in pain and winced, clenching your jaw and trying to stop tears from slipping from your eyes again. Sumin gripped your waist tightly, pulling your body against him before speaking in a frantic and worried tone.

“Hey hey, don't do that, okay? Don't move. Please…don't…”

“B-but…I need to get you out of here…” you responded through gritted teeth.

“No no no. You're going to hurt yourself, just please…” Your eyes widened at the sight of him tearing up, a sight so rare you can't even remember the last time you saw it. You looked up at him powerlessly, bringing your hands up to grasp his face and nuzzling your forehead against his.

“Okay…I-I'll stop…” You promised him and he smiled weakly.

“Thank you…”

What felt like hours passed and you could tell Sumin was getting weaker, his eyes sitting half closed and his breathing slow. Your eyes stung and your throat cracked and strained as you began calling out for help as loud as you could muster, your yells occasionally being cut off by your own coughs or sobs. “Someone has to find us…someone…” You tried to convince yourself, but hope seemed so far from the two of you at that moment. Your own leg had gone numb as well after being trapped, but that was absolutely none of your concern as you were fighting to keep Sumin conscious.

“H-Hey n-no no no. Keep your eyes open…” You spoke through tears as you lightly tapped one of his cheeks to force his eyes open before calling out again. You couldn't lose hope, not when the only man you couldn't live without was growing weaker with every passing minute.

You continued to call out, only for your voice to crack and for you to break out into a violent and painful coughing fit, cutting you off. Suddenly, Sumin's head fell into the crook of your neck, the rubble shifting slightly with his movement but somehow staying stable, not like that was what you were worried about in that moment. Your heart and breath sped up in a panic as you called out Sumin's name, tapping his shoulder and receiving no response.

“F-fuck…FUCK!” You exclaimed, hot tears spilling out of your eyes. “Sumin, please!” You tapped him again, no response. “I can't…” you sobbed, “I can't lose you now…please…I love you…” You cried into the darkness in a way you hadn't cried since you were a child, completely lost and helpless. That's all you wanted to do; cry and cry until you cried yourself to exhaustion, but you knew you couldn't. You had to keep going. You had to get him out. All caution and self preservation you previously had completely disappeared as you covered the back of his head with one of your hands, trying to ignore the crustiness of the dried blood clumping his hair together, before beginning to jam your foot back against the rubble with even more force than the last time. Chunk after chunk of concrete you dislodged, the foundation of the pile slowly crumbling and the light shining through getting brighter. You took a breath, laying your tired and sore leg down for a moment and pushing the hair out of Sumin's face. You hesitantly held a hand up to his parted lips, breathing a sigh of relief to feel subtle yet present breaths brushing against the tips of your fingers.

A sudden crunch from afar perked your attention and you turned your head, listening intently and hearing extremely subtle voices in the distance. Your heart began to race as you took a breath in before yelling as loud as you possibly could. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as the voices of what you could only assume were members of a rescue team grew closer and closer. You picked your leg up and slammed it into the rubble again, the pieces falling and grazing your leg. You called out again, coughing through clouds of dust before looking down and seeing your foot fully sticking out of the pile of rubble. You could hear nothing but the sound of your own pounding heart and a deep male voice yelling “Over here!” followed by multiple pairs of footsteps.

Tears of relief sprung to your eyes as the debris above you began to move, being pulled away from you as you held Sumin close.

The rest was a blur. Both you and Sumin were taken to the hospital and separated but you couldn't help but to continue being worried for him, almost completely forgetting about your own injury.

You sat silently at his bedside, staring at his calm, sleeping face as the silence of the room consumed you. His bed was decorated with various balloons from his family and friends and you smiled to yourself as you thought about just how loved he was. You looked down at your toes sticking out of the bottom of your cast and wiggled them mindlessly.

You were lucky to only end up with a fracture, not like you would've cared if they had to go as far as to amputate. All you cared about was Sumin. The relief you had felt when the nurse told you it was only a bad concussion and a lot of bruises made you almost burst into tears right in front of her, but you simply thanked her as she left you and him alone.

Now you waited for him to awaken again, heart pounding from nerves about what you'll even say to him when he opens his eyes, but also pounding from fear. After all, the nurse said there was a chance he'd end up in a coma.

Millions of thoughts circled around in your head as you ran through all the possible things you could say once he woke up. “Rise and shine?” You cringed. “I missed you?” True but embarrassing. “I love you.” You buried your red face in your hands, closing your eyes and trying to steady your own heartbeat before you actually just melted into the floor. His smiling face flashed in your mind, giving you a tight feeling in your chest and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. “Maybe I should just say ‘I love you’...” you thought, sighing and running a hand through your hair.

A subtle rustle of a bed sheet pulled you from your stupor and your head snapped up just in time to see Sumin's eyes flicker open, groggily taking in the surroundings before landing on you. The moment he caught sight of you, that familiar wide smile, with a hint of sleepiness, graced his face.

“Hey, you.” He mumbled in a raspy morning voice with a hint of playfulness. You wondered why you even thought about what you would say to him as your body moved before your mouth could, throwing yourself at him and ignoring the way your leg ached in protest. You quickly buried your face in his shoulder and soaked it with your tears as his strong arms wrapped around your back and held you against him. His soothing hand caressed up and down your back as you sobbed, inaudibly mumbling through about how you thought you were going to lose him and how scared you were.

“Shhh…it's okay…I told you I wasn't leaving you.” That familiar comforting voice of his made you smile so widely your cheeks started to hurt and you pulled back from his shoulder to look into his face. He slowly reached a hand up, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks in the same way he'd done for you back then and it only made your tears come faster. “Why are you crying?” He chuckled, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“...Sumin…”

He smiled that beautiful smile of his and you couldn't take it anymore. You wanted to tell him you loved him. You had to. But the words wouldn't come out, so you settled for the next best thing. With clumsy hands, you grasped his face and pressed your lips against his, earning shocked wide eyes and a quick blush from him, although you couldn't see it with your eyes closed, completely and totally focused on kissing him. It didn't take long for one of his hands to find its way into your hair, holding the back of your head as he returned your kiss with equally as much passion as you showed him. It didn't feel real. The way one of his hands held the small of your back with the other tangled in your hair. The way his lips pressed to yours over and over again, the sound of his breaths between kisses making your stomach turn. It all felt like a dream.

You pulled away just enough so that your lips were barely touching and opened your eyes before speaking in a soft breathless tone.

“I love you, Sumin.”

“I know, just…keep kissing me.”

You giggled before getting cut off as he pulled your head back and pressed his lips to yours again.

It still baffles you how such a nightmare turned into such a dream.

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST:

@chocoeon @hyunukitty @ihyeokzu @cake1box @chiiyuuvv @shortnstupid @dogyunslover

[fluffycatsposts]

Sucker for a Happy Ending

word count-1784 GenderNeutural reader

TW: mention of blood, war, death

Price has horrible nightmares and comes to you

Gunshots, blood, explosion. You’re on the ground, not moving and half blown to bits. He rushes over, repeatedly calling your name, hoping for a response but getting nothing as you continue to lay there. Lifeless. He shakes you, trying to get a response, begging you to respond and to hold on. The world around him is silent as tears fall down his face.

He jolts awake. Another nightmare. They have been haunting him for the past week and all he can see is your body on the ground, but you're not dead, no, you’re in your own room. Asleep. It all started when the Task Force 141 was under fire. Without warning you ran for a wall to use as cover when someone had just thrown a grenade and it landed next to you. You didn't see it until the last second and moved away in time, however in Price’s mind, he had seen you die and has from then on seen you die a million times over.

He glances at his clock, seeing its 3 in the morning. He sits up as he tries to clear his mind but no use. He gets dressed and walks down the hall to your room. Knocking on the door, waking you from your sleep. You’re confused to be woken up at 3, not remembering if there was anything scheduled this early. You get up and answer the door. The sight of you standing in the doorway, confused but awake makes an invisible weight slide off his shoulder. He exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“What the hell were you doing?” he demands as he shoves past you, entering your quarters. He stands in the middle of your room like a grumpy grizzly bear, his hands on his hips.

“Sleeping?” you said, confused on why he was here at 3am. “what  were you doing?” you asked.

“Don't get smart with me” he said with a glare that would melt most people in place. “You weren't paying attention to your surroundings.” he grunts, walking closer to you. He stops in front of you, mere inches away. A scolding father would best describe his current expression. You stand there, still half awake, trying to figure out what he meant. “You could’ve died, you daft moron” he growls, grabbing your chin firmly. His eyes bore into you, looking for any sign it’s actually getting through that thick skull of yours.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t understand” you said quietly.

“The grenade” he said “you should have been paying attention”. You finally realize what he is talking about, everything coming together. The bags under his eyes, him constantly watching you throughout the week after the mission. It now all made sense.

“Captain, I was paying attention.” you said

“Obviously you weren’t, or you would have moved when it first landed next to you.” He said. “It wasn't a drill, it was a live situation”  he snarled. When you are in danger, his usual gentle fatherly demeanor flies out of the window. Fear makes him aggressive, and he is terrified of losing you. He grabs you by the arms and shakes you like a ragdoll, “You could’ve died. Your body could have been pulverized because you just decided to not pay attention.” he bellows. He stops shaking you, hands digging into your arms. “Do you even understand what you just did to me?” he demands a face close enough that your nose would have touched if he leant in.

“No sir?” you said quietly

“I saw you stand there, not moving until the very last second.” he practically spits out, “I thought you were going to die. Do you know what it was like for me to watch you just stand there?” he lets go of you, stepping back. He looks away for a moment, breathing heavily. It's a sign that he’s trying to reign in his anger, not scream at you. He looks back at you, searching your face. “What were you thinking? Standing there like an idiot?” he demands, stepping closer to you again. He lifts a finger and points it at you. “Explain to me what the hell possessed you to do something so goddamn stupid and reckless.”

“I just didn’t see it when it first landed” you said “ when I saw it, I had thought to use myself to cover it instead of moving away to protect the others”

His heart feels like it's in his throat at the thought of you getting near it, much less using yourself to cover it. “You idiot!” he snaps, grabbing you again. He grabs you by the biceps, giving you a shake. “Don't ever do that again, you hear me ?!”” he smells giving you a shake. You nod, agreeing. He gives you a pointed glare, searching your eyes. He wants to be sure that you know exactly What you did was stupid and dangerous. “I mean it, you daft prick. Next time, you get away from the grenade, no thinking.” he warns, not dropping the grip on your arms.

“Ok!” you agree. He tightens his hold on your arms, pulling you an inch closer. 

“You have no clue what it does to me to see you get that close to danger, do you?” he asked. He can’t stop thinking about cradling your dead body in his arms every time he goes to sleep.

“I’m sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!”

He lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes. “Scare me?” he repeats “don't you get it? I thought I was going to lose you, you stupid moron. I thought I watched you die” he hisses.

“But I didn’t! I’m still alive!” you argue. A frustrated sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head at you. 

“You’re here and alive right now, but what happens next time? Or the next?!” he demands. He squeezes your arms, the thought of losing you, slowly driving him mad.

“It won’t happen again,” you promised.

He lets out another scoff. “How do you know it won’t? You weren’t even paying enough attention and barely made it out alive this time. You wont notice next time, how the hell am I supposed to trust you to pay attention?” he snaps. The grip on your arms is a bit painful at this point.

You wince a little, “I will be more careful” His expression darkens as he sees you wince from his grip. It wasn’t his intention to grab you so tightly he hurts you, he’s just trying to get his message through.

“You have to more than just careful” he says in a lower, slightly calmer tone. “You have to be more aware. You can't be on just instinct while in combat or you’ll end up dead”. He looks down at his hands, looking a little guilty that he squeezed your arms so tightly that it hurts. Slowly, his grip on them relaxed, shifting to gently rub the no doubt sore skin. “That was dangerous, you're lucky that you didn’t die. How can You promise that you won’t do something that stupid again?” he asks, looking back up at you. He isnt letting you go until he knows for certain  that your head isn't all the way up your arse.

“I’ll make sure to be more aware of my surroundings.” you said “more observant”

He signs, raking a hand through his hair. He looks tired, the stress of almost watching get blown to Hell was wearing him down. “Good God, you have no idea how stupid that was, do you?” he grumbles, walking past you and taking a seat in a chair. He drops his head in his hands, trying to ease the headache from his constant worry about you. “You got any idea how hard it was for me to watch you put yourself in danger like that?” he mutters, dropping his hands in his lap. You are sitting on your bed. “You don’t, do you” he asks, peering up at you from his seat in the chair.

You were quiet for a moment, looking at him. “..want a hug?” you asked quietly. His expression darkens as he looks at you. Does he want a hug? What hell of a question if that?

“Of course I do, you idiot” he snaps, standing up and stomping over to you, grabbing you and pulling you into a tight bear hug. He holds you against his chest for a while, arms wrapped firmly around you. He buries his face in your neck, he can smell the scent of your shampoo. “You better never do this to me again” he mumbled to you, the anger that drove him here melting into frustrated worry. He holds you as tightly as possible without hurting you, like you would disappear if he even dared to let you go. His breath is warm against your skin, the sound of it shaky with pent up worry of the last few days. “For a minute, all I could think about was cradling your dead body in my arms,” he mumbled.

“But you don’t have to think about that anymore,” I whispered. He tightens her grip on you, as if you were going to disappear any second.

“Stop doing stupid stuff from now on, then I won’t have to” he mutters. His chest is pressed against yours, the beating of his heart rapid in its thumping. You leaned back a littling, pulling him into the bed.

“I think you need to sleep,” you whispered. He lets you drag him to the bed, letting you pull him on to it. He lays down with a tired huff, reaching and wrapping his arms around you more tightly.

“I can’t sleep” he mumbled, holding you to him like his most precious treasure.

“Wanna watch a movie then?” you asked. He lets out a small hum of agreement, one hand coming up to run fingers through your hair.

“Sure, " he said quietly, “as long as I don’t have to move.” he adds with a tired chuckle. You grab your laptop that was on your nightstand, it was a bit of a stretch, but you managed to grab it. You  logged into Netflix.

“Anything in mind?” you asked, browsing through everything. He shakes his head, continuing to lazily run his finger through your hair.

“I don’t care, pick something” he hums, closing his eyes. Looking through. You picked Five Feet Apart. He quirks a brow at your choice, opening his eyes to look at you. “Really?” he grunted “you picked a romance movie?”

“It's a good movie, or so I hear” 

“ I never pegged you for the type to enjoy romance movies,” he uttered.

“Im a sucker for a happy ending”

[propertyofwhitney67]

Saving Grace

DoL Whitney x Reader

Word Count:766

Warnings: PTSD like flashback/episode, allusions to rape/assault, the usual DoL stuff

I laid awake smoking and watching him sleep, he looked so peaceful and cute like this. A side of him I only get to see when we're alone. I looked around the room, much cleaner than last time I was over. I made a mental note to tease him about it another time.

I reached over to the ashtray on the bedside table and ashed the cigarette I stole from Whitney. As I did he shifted and gripped my hip tighter to keep me from moving. I smiled down at his sleeping form. Face scrunched up, hair a mess, and only wearing sweatpants he looked perfect in my eyes.

I don't know how I ended up here, but I'm glad I did. In a way he's been my saving grace, my sanity. I continue on for him. Without him I don't know where I'd be, maybe the underground brothel or farm. I still get nightmares about my time in both of them.

I don't think he knows about all of it. What I have to do and what I've done. It's for the best he doesn't, I don't want to think of what'd he do. I leaned over again and put out the butt of my cigarette in the ashtray.

I leaned back into the pillow as he shifted again, this time sitting up. "Dreams again?" He asked groggily while rubbing sleep from his eyes. I gave him a silent nod in reply to which he replied with a hum.

He reached out and manhandled me into a position he liked then laid down face first into my chest causing me to laugh. He playfully slapped my thigh and pulled the blanket over our bodies. Once comfortable enough he grabbed hold of my right breast and used the other as a pillow, "They can't hurt you here." He said quietly into my chest, making me smile sadly. The dreams are never ending just like the encounters. It makes me want to hide away with him, but I have to face the world and this shitty town with its shitty people.

I ran my hand through his hair making him hum in satisfaction. I continued to pet his hair till his breathing evened out and was asleep. I stayed up longer to admire him more, but eventually I too succumbed to sleep. The dreams aren't as bad when I'm with him.

I dreamt of a dark room and shady people. Pink humming lights and crowds cheering. The full picture always left me when I woke, but I always remember the feeling it gave me. I opened my eyes and quietly looked around fearing the worst but only finding Whitney's plushies. His bathroom door was cracked and the shower was running.

I sat up slowly to get my bearings. I was safe, I was ok. Nothing can hurt me here. But I can't stay…and there's always one right around the corner, watching and waiting. More will follow. I grabbed Iggy the whale, his favorite plushie, and held it tight as memories started to flood in and refused to leave. I could feel them all around me, grabbing and groping. The words they spat and the horrible things they called me. And god the smell. Everything was beginning to spiral around me when I was suddenly pulled out.

I peeked open my eyes and looked up to find a pair of worried blue eyes…Whitney. He looked distressed and frantic. “There you are slut.” He said with a sad chuckle, trying to keep it together, and loosened his grip to let me sit up. I didn’t move, just continued to stare. Waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. “It's just you and me Y/n.” He tried to reason with me. I could hear the earnestness in his voice and looked around to see no one but us. 

I took a deep breath and realized how close to tears I was. I sniffled and wiped at my eyes to keep the tears from falling. I sat up on my knees and looked at Whitney. He still looked distressed, but he was hiding it the best he could. “I’m sorry….” I trailed off not really knowing what to say. I just had an episode, a flashback I guess you could call it. They always felt so real. 

For the first time since coming to I realized he was only wearing a towel and was still wet from his shower. “Don’t fucking apologize.” He said with his voice breaking at the end. He pulled me close and didn’t let me go.

𝘔𝘢����𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

[turretistrying]

Caged Bird and Chased Mouse

Part 3: The Beginning of the Never Ending Mouse Wheel

A/N: ahahahaha,,, im sorry? But at least im finally reaching the Sabzeru festival bit of this story, im sorry its been a while. The reader’s feeling about the arts is based on my own, because I’m an artist and anyone who demeans any form of art make me angry >:(. Let’s start ig (oh stars this is not gonna be good) Anyway’s send me asks if you want

Warnings: Swearing (fuck and shit)

You head hurts so bad, but at least you’re comfy (small victories).

You open your eyes to see… your bedroom? Oh, yeah, you’re in a pseudo dream so not really, you guess.

‘Wait if im in a dream why the hell do I have a headache?’ You ponder to yourself while siting up from your bed, your body missing the familiar coziness and warmth,

You look around in hopes to see the lil green girl, Nahida she said? You’re not a hundred percent sure, considering how… hazy everything felt in the moment, including the time passage. ‘How long have I been out?’ You wonder, knowing you’ll gain no answers without Nahida. You decide to wander around your room, seeing what you could do here. You walk towards the window, which shows the outside with the bird feeder you had been meaning to refill before being sucked into a nightmare that has been this experience thus far. Grabbing the ledge on the window, you try and open it out of pure curiosity, it takes a struggle you know it didn’t need before only to see..

Black. Everywhere.

You try the door to see if it’s the same situation (it was). Just a never ending darkness stretching on seemingly forever. Deciding that most of the items in your room was useless for really anything in the moment, you walk towards your desk that housed your device for playing Genshin. The wretched thing that condemned you to a nightmare, but you knew it really couldn’t do anything to worsen your situation (God you hoped not). Booting it up just showed your lock screen, so far so good, putting in the password bring you to…

Huh?

Genshin??

You sit there for a solid 5 minutes wondering ‘What the actual hell???’, because thats crazy, somehow more crazy then being stuck in the damn game itself. You snap out of your stupor and decide to click on the screen (which is no longer welcoming you by your email, but your ingame name. Your somewhat glad it wasn’t using your real name) waiting for the loading sequence, but it just skips to opening the giant door. You wait with just a white screen, no elemental symbols in sight. When it finishes you’re not greated by any playable character’s back, but by a spirit??

What?

It looked like you in a sense, it was transparent with a simple robe. You took a look at the icons that the normal attack, elemental skill, and burst was usually located, only to see a button that looked like it was punching (?), one that was touching, and the final one looked like it was… well you couldn’t really tell what it was supposed to be. But you decided against trying any of them out of fear of what might occur. Looking around you realized ‘you’ were right in the middle of Sumeru City, right next to the adventurer’s guild. Walking around was a bit odd, you were very used to hearing the character’s footsteps and clothes moving but this spirit had no noise at all.

You end up at the front of “The Grand Bazaar”, an area you had been meaning to visit before falling into a coma-state. Opening the door and walking down the small hallway led to somewhere that was bustling with festivities! It was so pretty with all the flowers and decorations, you wonder what the occasion is as you continue onwards. Looking at some of the food stalls you really regret not going there, it just looks so good (you bet it smelt delicious). Not paying attention you end up walking the spirit right though someone,

“Brr! Woah, did you just feel that?”

“No?”

“It was a really cold draft, how did you not feel that?”

“There’s no draft in here.”

You just stop to listen,

‘So this character is functionally a ghost? Huh’ You continue through the Grand Bazaar to another entrance, hearing a… familiar voice, one you haven’t heard in forever. Walking through the doors you see,

Lumine and Paimon.

They were talking with a strange looking man with 5 containers in front of him. But all you could think was how were they here. You remembered you left your team in Inazuma before getting sucked in because you set commissions there (you were grinding achievements), in all honesty you wonder where your team is at the moment… you hope they’re okay and don’t hate you. You walk up to the two, deciding to follow them for now, to follow a story you never got to see before getting sucked into this.

“—speaking of tradition, do you want some Yalda Candies? They're a festival staple, and I happen to have some boxes readied here. Take a look and pick whichever one you want.” The odd looking man with a mustache and flower hat offers Lumine and Paimon the mentioned candies

“Whichever one... Don't these boxes all look the same?” Paimon asks with her not at all annoying voice (you’re being totally honest!)

You muse while peering down at the containers with your character, “Yeah, they sorta do. But they do have some different colors!” You speak to yourself in the dream-room, simply speaking aloud.

“?!” Lumine suddenly started to look around them, seemingly startled

‘Wonder what Lumine’s spooked about?? Nothing seems out of place or weird…’

“Haha, this is the fun part. Each box contains a random flavor — it's up to the luck of the draw. Flavors include Lavender Melon, Harra Fruit, Sunsettia...” The flower man continues to talk, seemingly unaware of Lumine’s confusion.

Paimon, the flower man, and a regal looking lady kept talking to each other, but at this point I was focused on Lumine. ‘Maybe she can hear me with this character?’ You move the character to be closer to Lumine, “if you can hear me Lumine, uhm… Pick the 2nd container!”

Lumine immediately pointed to the 2nd container “I pick this one.”. Her sudden interruption made the three others pause.

Flower man cleared his throa, “uhm, A-atten-tion! That's unfortunately Harra Fruit. The Sunsettia candy was in the 4th one”

“Aw man! I thought you only won battles because you had good luck but i guess not” Paimon interjected

“That still sounds good! I’d assume Harra fruit tastes like dragonfruit so that seems like it’d be a good treat!” You say out-loud, then turn your voice to Lumine, “Thanks Lumine, ignore Paimon ahaha. I’m sorry I left you in Inazuma…”

Lumine seems to blush then nod to the direction of where my character was.

You follow the three throughout the day, and we finally arrive to watch the dancer Nilou’s performance. You were pretty excited, never have really seen a dance performance. While you couldn’t see it with your own two eyes in person, at least you could get as close as you could. But it seemed like there was someone yelling at Nilou.

The regal lady (that you learned her name was Dunyarzad) chimed in “I think I just saw the Akademiya's Grand Sage... Why is he here in person?”

The two Akademiya officials kept yelling at Nilou, while Dunyarzad looked like she wanted to step in and stop it. “Lumine, please stop Dunyarzad I don’t thing things will go well if she tried to intervene.” You whisper into Lumine’s ear, having become a bit worried for Dunyarzad since you discovered what she was dealing with.

Lumine listens and convinces Dunyarzad not to confront the Akademiya people. You get closer as a group to hear a bit better, and as you listen to what the Akademiya officials are toting about, it makes your blood boil.

You valued the arts before all this, buying several commissioned pieces, listening to music at any given point, and seen a musical or two. Hearing the Sages (?) demean those arts makes you want to punch them. “Not everything is about knowledge you old idiots! Art is human nature just let her dance, and besides the arts can be used to understand the past, and find more knowledge you fuckers. Be lucky I can’t physically punch you.”

You rant to yourself (maybe a lil to Lumine too, considering she can hear you) angry at what they’re saying. You move your character over to the Sage’s and spam the punch button (it satisfied you to know it was in-fact a punch button and watching the character’s transparent fists phased through the Sages made you deeply happy). While you’re enjoying your non-consequential vengeance, they leave (muttering how cold the Bazaar is) and Paimon and Dunyarzad starts to comfort Nilou while Lumine and you stay back.

Lumine and Paimon return to where they’re staying, you follow. They lay down for sleep and suddenly-

BEEP

The loudest noise you’ve ever heard in your life rings throughout the dream-room, your head feels like it’s about to explode. “FUCK!” Your hands try and block the noise from your ear but it’s too late and you faint from the pain.

You head hurts so bad.

You open your eyes to see… your bedroom? Oh, yeah, you’re in a pseudo dream so not really, you guess.

‘Wait if im in a dream why the hell do I have a headac- wait this feels familar?’ You ponder to yourself while siting up from you bed.

You stand up from your bed and walk (back?) to the desk with your device, opening to the Genshin door again. You click and wonder what the hell that noise was before you fainted (?) was. When it finishes loading, you see the spirit character you remember, with the three buttons, punch, touch, and mystery. You make the character run around, hoping you’ll find Lumine and Paimon. You got lost so many times unfamiliar with the layout of the city, eventually you end up back at the candy stand you first saw Lumine and Paimon. The flower man (you really need to find out his name..) was still there with the candy containers. ‘Wait, shouldn’t he not be here since the Festival was cancelled?’ You wonder to yourself, not realizing that Lumine and Paimon started to walk up.

“Farris, the Knight of Flowers, is another Sabzeruz Festival icon, and one immensely popular with children.” After hearing the newly familiar voice Dunyarzad, you turn the character’s camera behind you to reveal the 3 approaching.

“Haha, it's all thanks to Miss Dunyarzad's sponsorship that the children can meet the Knight of Flowers.” Farris (that doesn’t seem right…) replies, “Oh, do you want some Yalda Candies? I happen to have some boxes readied here. Take a look and pick whichever one you want.”

Your eyes widen, ‘Wait, i remember this! The fourth one has the sunsettia candy, but why is this happening again?’

“Uhh, what's to pick? Don't these boxes all look the same?” Paimon says the same thing she said the first time

You move your character behind Lumine, and your finger hovers over the touch button. You click on it, your character’s hand laches onto her shoulder. “Pick the 4th one Lumine.”

“Ah, excellently chosen! Number four is indeed Sunsettia.” Farris congratulates Lumine on picking the right one.

You follow Lumine and Paimon throughout the day (again?) until you reach the Bazaar again, Nilou’s performance supposed to be underway. But the Sage’s are there and yelling at Nilou, Dunyarzad wants to stop them but Lumine stops her. The Sage’s demean the arts, you ghost punch the sages, and Dunyarzad comforts Nilou.

Lumine and Paimon return to the hotel, they get ready for sleep.

BEEP

“SHIT NOT AGAIN” You scream, again, it still fucking hurt but you don’t faint this time. Your device crashed and everything around you became blurry and glitched and you felt sick. You closed your eyes for just a second, and when you opened them again, you were in bed.

‘Am I in a timeloop?’ You walk to the desk with your device, again. With the idea of a timeloop troubling you.

Genshin boots up.

Loads in as the spirit character.

Punch, touch, mystery.

Flower Knight and candy containers.

“Container 4.”

Sage’s yelling.

“Punch the Sages, Lumine”

Dunyarzad comforts Nilou.

Return to Hotel.

BEEP.

Headspliting noise.

Reset.

______________________________________

Im so sorry this took so long, IM NOT A WRITER. Also do you guys want me to put this on Ao3 I have an account but i’ve never posted a fanfic on it.

Taglist: (if your name is crossed out i couldn’t tag you! :( )

Taglist: @no-name-omo @moosieman12345 @tinandabin @esthelily @d0rmiens-fact0rem @lunalily19 @meerpea @justasleepyboi @lunarianillusion @cumbermovels @allblognamesaretakenlikereally @dulleyeddreamer @ello-its-me-ya-boi @jayastronomicnova @apple-ai @campanula-rotundifolia @kokomisimpppp @the-dumber-scaramouche @aintrovertmortal @i-loveyou013 @mochicurls21 @elernity

[iamsherlocked-1998]

When the storm passes.

Warning: Description of post-traumatic stress, childhood trauma, anxiety attack.

A sleepless night in Nevarro's small cabin.

════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════

Grogu woke up with a start, slowly opening his eyes as he groaned. Something was wrong, the atmosphere was charged, strong and mixed feelings were perceived, the force was twisted with fear, sadness... and something anxious. It was like being in that temple again before everything fell apart, but this time he wasn't dreaming.

The boy didn't understand, he was at home, the comfort of his dark room enveloped him, hadn't heard any noise besides the rain and the occasional thunder, not that Grogu really liked storms but there didn't seem to be any imminent danger. It had actually been a good day, he played for hours, The Mandalorian was starting to teach him to talk and was very proud of attempts at Mando'a, even finished his first drawing with some meaning.

Then realized, the wave of panic was coming from the back of the cabin, where his father was. He must have known, his protector always had a very strong presence, he hadn't realized how until they were separated and received a visit from him in training with Master Luke. That had increased now he wasn't wearing his helmet around the child.

Grogu slowly climbed down from the structure that served as bed. He walked towards the hallway with difficulty, what could scare his father? He is a strong guy, would usually more than capable of defending himself... from experience, situations that the man couldn't solve by himself turned out to be quite complicated.

-------------------------------------------- "Everything was dark and dirty, he huddled in that small space of the shed fearing the worst, the deafening screams and explosions filled his senses, a few seconds later he noticed how the door opened, being greeted by a helmet with a T-shaped visor. Hope unraveled like strands of wet paper. The stranger reached for his hip and pointed the gun at him. He wanted to beg for mercy but his voice didn't come out and then everything went black..."

He put his face closer to the pillow, wanting to hide in its surface, he bit his lower lip so hard that it bled. He thought he was getting better with the nightmares, they hadn't recurred in months, now they were calm, with a stable place to return to, he even changed his armor for soft clothes, but there he was, sobbing from a bad dream like a fucking child. . He brought his hand to his face to roughly wipe away a traitorous tear. He wondered if it ever stop or his brain would keep coming back to haunt him, repeating the same scenes over and over again but with a different and much grimmer ending each time.

Thunder rumbled nearby and he shivered, sighing deeply as sat up against the headboard of the bed, buried his face between the knees. He was a grown man, a warrior accustomed to the worst kinds of violence and, wanted to believe, more than capable of facing whatever dangers lay ahead of him, but trembled as if he were nothing more than a leaf in autumn because a storm frightened him. He tried to even out his breathing and prayed to whatever that this would end soon. The former hunter noticed that the room seemed as messy as his mind, all of the Beskar pieces were scattered on the floor.

A small vowel sound alerted him and directed the attention towards the door. It was his son's, little one was standing at the entrance staring at him with wide eyes. He cleared his throat with difficulty as he reached for the light switch, wanting to appear as recompose as possible.

-Hey, are you okay, kid?

The boy continued to look at him, but he tilted his head in concern, his big ears were all the way down.

He felt that something was burning his soul, nothing was wrong with Grogu, the boy noticed that things were chaotic and wanted to protect him. That was supposed to be his job and not the other way around. His features softened, had to fix this.

-Kid, I'm fine, it was just a nightmare, goes back to sleep.

The boy walked towards him, when was next to the foot of the bed he raised his arms with the intention of being picked up. The Mandalorian accepted it, cradling he gently. By then toddler had proceeded to caress his unshaven jaw, closing his eyes.

The bounty hunter leaned into the touch, a sense of calm immediately washing over him, his racing heartbeat slowing down almost miraculously. He reached up for the small fingers brushing against his skin.

-Thank you Grogu.

The boy gave a happy squeal and stood next to him, clinging to the pillow and creating a small nest with the forgotten sheet, ready to spend the night. Djarin chuckled as he turned off the light.

-I guess everything is already decided... (the boy could no longer hear him, since he quickly succumbed to sleep).

The man lay down on his side slowly, leaving a safe space so as not to disturb him. The moonlight was coming in through the window. Suddenly it seemed like the rain was dissipating.

[genshinimpactlife]

Could I see hcs for Raiden Ei, Yae Miko and Hu Tao with an adopted child that is heavily implied to have had a very hard, sad and painful past before they took them in? The child is very quiet, timid, fearful and touch-starved, and has nightmares and is prone to crying. Is this okay?

Troubled Adopted Child Headcanons

When Ei ended up with this child, she was clueless about what to do.

She found the child lost in Inazuma, and they were clearly terrified of Ei.

She spent weeks trying to find their mother to no avail.

The pour thing wouldn't come near Ei, but if there were something scarier than her, like a guard, the young one would cling to Ei.

She developed an attachment quickly to the child, and soon she was taking them everywhere with her.

She would soothe the child when they woke up in the middle of the night crying, sometimes even getting into bed to help calm them.

Ei loves teaching the little ones about Inazuma and always tells them stories of its past.

Ei doesn't mind that the child cries a lot; she will always be there to wipe away their tears and remind them that everything will be okay now.

The child is always quiet in public or around others, but the moment they are only with Ei they become a chatterbox.

Ei's heart swelled with love and pride the first time her child called her Mama.

Kujou Sara is the only other person allowed to watch Ei's child, though she usually hides the entire time Sara watches her.

Miko never had any intentions of becoming a mother. But when she saw that young child hiding in a box on the street, something compelled her to help.

The child was terrified when Miko approached and offered them a place to sleep, but they still took her up on the offer.

Miko had a meal and a room prepared for them as soon as she returned home, and the child ate like it was their first meal in months.

That night Miko woke to screams, and she rushed into the room to find the child having a nightmare.

They clung to Miko, sobbing like a baby as she tried to soothe them.

Miko was attached from that moment on.

The child ended up living at the shrine with Miko. They were terrified of everyone, and it took a lot of work to get them even to leave the house.

Miko was patient with the child, even when they had been crying and sniffing for hours over something she considered trivial.

Her heart melted when the child asked if they could call her Mama since she was the mother they never had. Of course, she said yes.

As the child started coming out of their shell, the two of them became a duo, and you would never see Miko without her kid.

When Hutao discovered that two of her clients had a child that survived the accident, she had to meet them.

However, the child was terrified of Hutao, and it took multiple meetings before they would come out from hiding.

There was something about them that sent warmth through Hutaos heart, and she continued to visit them at the orphanage even after their parent's funeral.

She missed one week, and when she returned, the child came running up, clinging to her as they sobbed about her leaving forever. She knew at that moment that this child was going to be hers.

A month later, the adoption was complete, and Hutao was the young one's guardian.

Many things at the funeral parlor and Hutao's house scared the child, and she always found a way to make the scary stuff funny.

Always reads them to sleep and keeps a close eye on them throughout the night.

She doesn't mind their more withdrawn and quiet personality, and the more time they spend together, the more the personality of the young one starts to shine.

Hutao had always been "Auntie Hutao" until one day, without even thinking about it her child called her "Mommy Hutao," and it stuck.

I hope you enjoy! <3

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“The Midnight Delivery” - A FNAF Special Delivery One-Shot

This is the result of @kevciaran bringing up the idea that AR Springtrap might be trying to warn the player about something, though it’s not clear exactly what… And it also being William for good measure, though it’s him haunting a replica here.

I then decided to take a Fazbear Frights/Tales from the Pizzaplex approach and come up with this hypothetical scene at the end of such a story. Or at least right before then.

The basic premise is: “A teen girl named Clarice gets an order from Freddy’s she really doesn’t want. Will she face her fears or will her next ‘gift’ be the death of her?”

—

Clarice stared at her phone. The dusky blue map remained as empty as the streets outside her house. A calm silence blanketed her ears, though it did nothing to stop her drumming heart. The order was placed. Her fate was sealed. Springtrap was coming to her home, whether she liked it or not.

With newfound dexterity, she switched from the map to her provided instructions. “‘If the Replica Springtrap animatronic has white eyes while malfunctioning, then stare at him until he vanishes,’” she read in a rapid-fire mutter. “‘Likewise, the Springtrap animatronic has red eyes, then look away until you can no longer hear its twitching. If it is doing neither (or if it has turning on the standard issue cloaking device), then continue with your usual procedure…’”

Clarice laid back down in her bed. With each new word she skimmed through, the less uneasy she felt. Maybe everything was going to be just fine. Just like Kevin said.

..Unless she forgot the instructions, of course.

With a renewed sense of urgency, she turned her phone back on. She poured over the instructions again, repeating shortened phrases until she felt they were committed to memory. Even the ones Kevin already gave weren’t safe from her frenzied brain-drilling.

“Bright and red means turn your head.”

“Focus on white like a moth towards the light.”

“If they cloak, just listen— Don’t choke.”

“And if he taunts—“

A small dot popped up on the bottom of her screen. The last phrase slipped away as her mind refocused. The screen switched from her guidebook to her in-app inbox. Her eyes skimmed the first few words.

Her blood ran cold. The message was formulaic and simple, much like the ones that came before it— But now it carried a heaviness that made it sound like a harbinger of doom.

“Your animatronic is almost here!”

Her tapping fingers made the screen bounce from the inbox to the map. Sure enough, there was a new symbol on the map. A rabbit’s head with mismatched ears slowly marching towards the house icon. And, judging from the map alone, it would reach that other icon in mere minutes.

Clarice fumbled out of bed and onto the floor. She scrambled onto her feet, then snatched the taser from her nightstand. All was a blur as she made her final preparations. All of the other second floor bedrooms were barred with makeshift barricades like laundry baskets and leftover baby gates.  Any “exits” she could use on the lower floor, however, were left unlocked. Frantic texts were sent, be it final goodbyes or unintentionally vague warnings. If she was to be the next in a long lineage of Springtrap’s victims, then she was to make sure that this part of the nightmare ended with her. Death or no death.

After a few more minutes of stillness, Clarice’s phone buzzed to life. Her front door camera had spotted something at the door.

The chime of her doorbell confirmed its suspicions.

Clarice sallowed whatever was left of her pride. She slowly got up from her hiding spot and approached the door. With a trembling hand, she unlocked it.

The doorknob, in kind, was slow to turn. Almost as if it was a pain to turn the wrist enough to pull off this simple maneuver. However, this wasn’t the case for swinging the door wide open— Which Springtrap promptly did. 

He stood there, watching as Clarice stifled a piercing shriek. His ears twitched a little at the noise, but nothing else seemed to affect him. He simply straightened his back and took a few steps forward. “Let’s see how many times you can be pulled apart, then put back together again,” he snarled, advancing just enough for him to slam the door with one shove.

Clarice pointed the taser at him. “D-Don’t,” she stammered out, trying to at least sound stupid rather than scared. “Take one more step, and I’ll shock you to the ends of the earth.”

Springtrap sniggered. He put one foot forward, then moved his arms outward.

Blueish sparks lit up the pitch-black room. All of them managed to hit the floor and dash away before their observers’ eyes. She was too far away to really do anything. Of course she was.

As the girl’s heart sank, Springtrap’s sniggering turned into chuckling. He lumbered again, but now his footsteps were much quieter. And, as Clarice quickly noticed, he vanished into thin air. Her heart pounded. “The ‘cloak’,” she thought as she backed away into the kitchen. “He’s… He’s going to use it to kill me!” 

That last idea sent her into a frenzy. She scrambled to the back door, blindly fumbling into chairs and countertops along the way. Her hands quickly turned the doorknob.. Only to remember that it had two locks. One on the doorknob and one on some old-fashioned chain. And that chain was not going to unlock in five seconds— Especially with a red-eyed Springtrap looming over her.

She froze. Her rapid breathing slowed to a halt. Servos whirred and twitched in her ears, but she dared not look at the rabbit’s reflection. All she could do was stare and stay still.

The reddish glow soon faded away. Springtrap jolted out of his haywire state. He stared at her for a moment, then leaned forward. “I can taste the fear in your breath,” he seemed to sneer, as if the word ‘fear’ was a repugnant oath to him. He lingered until his victim moved, then disappeared into the shadows once more.

Clarice’s head turned to look back. Her expression shifted from terror to confusion. She listened for an explanation, but she heard nothing. Even as she crept back into the foyer, silence prevailed over the potential conversation. Was that his best attempt at a bluff, or was he just trying to snap her out of it? Whatever the motive, it certainly worked.

Though her posture eased up, her hand still clutched the taser. She took one last look around the area. Nothing to be seen. Nothing to be heard. With this as her cue, she bolted up the stairs… Right before her adversary followed close behind. She whirled around and fired the taser again. Sparks ran through the robot’s tattered body, forcing him to writhe uncontrollably. Clarice took her chance and ran back into her bedroom. She shut the door, locked it, then fell onto her knees. She had done it. She had survived long enough to make it to her bedroom.

Heavy footsteps thumped against the carpet, then gradually slowed to a halt. A guttural sigh rattled the listener to her very core. “Hide if you want,” Springtrap growled quietly. “It did not save the others— It will not save you.” Then the footsteps continued on, as if completely ignoring the obvious hideout.

Clarice wiped her brow. “He’s just bluffing now,” she thought as she leaned against the door. “All I have to do is climb into bed, sleep the rest of the night out, then ambush him in the morning. He’ll be so tired by then; he’ll be begging me to knock out his system.” With her free hand, she dug into her pants pocket.

But her phone wasn’t there. 

Her once-assured smile turned into a shaky grimace. “W-Well, I don’t need my alarm,” she reasoned to herself. “I can probably sleep in and catch him whenever I wake up!” 

The grimace turned into a trembling wince. “But what about Kevin?” she asked, even as her stomach flipped in endless loops. “Or Mom and Dad? What if… What if he finds them? What if he—?” Feverish imaginations of ‘the others’ cut off her pondering. She hunched over, battling several urges at once.

Outside, Springtrap paused his search. His head tilted to one side. He advanced slowly, taking in these wretched noises. As far as he could tell, these were not cries of some arrogant thrill-seeker regretting their life choices. Nor were they the pleas of someone who knew Fazbear’s horrid past— At least not as much as he was expecting. These sounded… familiar. Like a strange middle ground between the fearful victims of old as well as his own… moments of weakness. Innocence mixed with wrecked nerves and self-reprimands. In short, this coward was nothing like the person he was promised. And, if he was misled here…

Before he could finish his assessment, his entire body jolted on its own. His eyes flickered between red and white, making his body twitch even more. He fought to raise his arms to his head. With great effort, he pulled himself out of his “stupor” with a harsh head-tug. Everything stopped shaking. He was—in his own way—back to normal.

He watched Clarice stumble out of her bedroom. Right on time.

Clarice lingered on the floor. The look on her face switched from a disoriented stare to a disgusted scowl. Her hands still shook, but at least they had a much better grasp on the taser.

Springtrap took a step closer. His eyes gained a bright white glow. “It is not your flesh that sustains me!” he cried out, almost sounding as if his teeth were clenched. “It is your fear.”

They locked eyes. Clarice’s tremor lessened. She slowly got back on her feet, trying her very best to focus on those two glowing circles. It was her turn to take a step forward. “I don’t care about what you ‘consume’— whatever that means,” she said in a somewhat steady tone. “All I’m worried about is you messing with my family. D-Do what you want with me. Just leave them alone.”

Springtrap’s ears raised at this remark. His eyes quickly lost their glow. He vanished under the cloak before any other changes could be noticed.

Clarice shook these off with a shake of her head. She hurried down the stairs, then swerved into the living room. Her hands instinctively snatched the phone and tossed it at nothing. The following thud made her wince. “Probably shouldn’t have done that,” she thought as she carefully picked it up from the carpet. 

Her regret sunk in even deeper when she looked back at the stairs. The shadow-covered rabbit rematerialized as he charged down. He swerved in her direction. She shot out her arm and closed her eyes. The buzz of electricity striking metal rang out while she fumbled back onto the ground. When she opened her eyes, he was invisible yet again. No remarks. No standing there and judging her every move. Just him relying on the shadows once again.

She lingered on the floor. Her heart pounded, but her head swam with questions. Why didn’t he just run after her like last time? Did the whole “family” thing aet something off? No, that couldn’t be right. Fazbear’s mini-biography of him said he was heartless— Literally and figuratively. Even if there was someone he cared about, he definitely didn’t invite them to his latest ‘out on the town’ night. So, once again, why did he just stand there?

All was quiet as Clarice climbed onto the couch. She watched for any shadowy rabbits or red eyes, but nothing showed up. Soon her mind started to sift through all that had happened during this twisted “cat and mouse” game. The arrival at the door. Her first attempt at stunning this maniac. That close call at that door. If there was one running thread that she could use as an explanation for that weird delay, it was probably right in front of her. Maybe even… in a literal sense?

Wait a minute.

Was Springtrap… afraid of his own ‘haywire’ state?

Clairice put a hand on her head. It was a dumb idea, yes, but it did make some sense. Anytime he had those red eyes, he’d quit taunting and start rushing to attack her. With or without the white glow? Absolutely in control of his actions. If she didn’t know any better, this was a textbook case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde— That is, if Jekyll took up Hyde’s ‘profession’ and Hyde was a no-thoughts-between-the-eyes kind of person. Well, even more than Hyde already was, if she remembered Kevin’s summary correctly.

Flimsy metaphor aside, the girl decided that this was the right answer. She rose from her spot, readied her taser, and set out to find “Hyde”. Or “Jekyll”. Or any sign of Springtrap, really.

Clarice instinctively walked back into the kitchen. She cauriously made her way to the back door. With her free hand, she investigated the locks. Both were in their same spots from last time. Her eyes fixed on the glass panel. No one behind her. She pried open the chained lock, then went back to the main hallway.

With not much else to inspect, she trudged upstairs. The barricaded doors, miraculously, were not messed with. Neither was the railing or anything in the passageway. “I’m starting to think he just ran out the side door and I didn’t notice,” she thought while she entered into her own room. “Might as well check in here, since it’s open.”

Her tiredness fled as soon as she crossed the threshold. There stood Springtrap, alternating between colors as his entire body contorted violently. Servos whirred as his voice box spewed out nightmarish noises. All while Clarice had to battle the urge to faint.

Mercifully, Springtrap managed to jolt himself out of this horrific middle ground. He hunched over, let his body rest for a moment, then hoisted himself into a decent standing posture. His eyelids lifted at the sight of his opponent, only to lower back down shortly after. “Your fear will consume you!” he snapped, clenching a raised fist in her direction.

“Not if yours takes you down first,” Clarice answered softly, her fingers playing with the taser in her hand.

Before Springtrap could even begin to respond, his eyes glimmered red. He sprinted towards her with renewed energy. His voice box let out a terrifying hiss as he lunged towards her. A final shock ran through his entire system. Whether the red eyes was his doing or not, he still lost control. His body shut down in seconds. His body soon fell onto the floor, as did the sleep-deprived body of Clarice.

[labrats-and-clonetroopers]

"I Won't Bury You Again" Ch. 3 - Leo Dooley & Chase Davenport, Lab Rats [Elite Force]/The Dark Tower (C.S. Lewis) Crossover

Masterlist 

Request Guidelines 

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 

Synopsis:

Leo was the one who heard all of Davenport’s confessions in the elevator. He was the one who sought out Douglas, who had been the one to originally break into his and Marcus’ lab. He’s the one who’s been trapped in and escaped from a freaking parallel universe. 

He knows, better than any of them, that all the secrets surrounding their past will never fully come to light. 

But he needs to save his brother. And if that means chasing a ghost from Douglas’ past, then he will. No matter where it leads him.

Story Warnings: violence, minor character death, mentioned drug use, mild horror, moderate blood and gore

______________________

By the time Adam returns, along with a couple of bionic teams touching base, nothing appears out of the ordinary. 

Leo is stretched out, lounging by the pool, eyes shaded by sunglasses and the skin on his shoulders slightly burned from the intense sun of the day. Leo mentions casually to his brother that they are out of sunscreen — the island practically goes through it like water — and Adam promises to add it to their supply list, both of them knowing full well he’ll forget and Leo will have to do it himself. 

Douglas’ laptop is laid out in its owner’s still-empty room, not an inch out of place from where Leo had found it. Leo’s tablet is resting in its usual place on the end table by the couch, nothing to indicate there might be something new on it worth hiding. 

Leo managed to transfer a copy of every file over, though he still can’t access them. Given time, he could probably solve that issue, but time it would take, especially when there are others who could handle that bit of coding more efficiently. 

He won’t go to Big D, though he knows his stepfather wouldn’t hesitate to help on this particular issue. His fear of Douglas’ past continuing to come back and hurt his family is even more acute than Leo’s. It’s why the teen can’t involve him in this, not yet. He won’t drive a wedge between Douglas and his brother’s already fragile relationship, at least not until he knows more. 

That leaves only one other person. 

He waits until he’s certain he’s alone before making the call. His phone rings twice before it’s picked up at the other end. 

“Hey, Leo, what’s up?” Chase’s voice is prompt, cheerful. 

“Are you alone?” Leo asks, voice low, “I need to talk to you in private.” 

“Yeah,” and his tone shifts, “What’s going on?”

“I discovered something on Douglas’ laptop. An audio recording that indicates while the FBI had you three in custody, there was someone else, not Krane or Giselle, who was trying to get possession of you. Douglas isn’t talking, and obviously the last thing we need is someone from his past showing up out of nowhere.”

There’s silence on the other end, and Leo can imagine the haunted look washing over his brother’s face. He knows how close Giselle came to ending Chase’s life, and he knows how close things really got, as he was the only one to notice the blood trailing the back of his neck. He was the one Chase had turned to when the nightmares tore him from his sleep and paralyzed him in the night. 

“Did you find anything else?” Chase finally says, his voice tense. 

“In the same folder as the audio recording were about a hundred locked files. All labeled with dates, and spanning about a three year time span that starts seven years ago,” Leo answers. “Breaking into the files would take me too long.”

“Alright. Let me secure a connection, the send me the audio recording and the latest five files. Douglas could come down at any moment, so we can’t risk transferring everything at once.” 

“Got it,” he affirms. “Call me as soon as soon as you find anything out. In the meantime, I have a couple other sources in mind that could provide some leads.”

“Alright, but Leo,” Chase implores, concern in his voice, “Don’t do anything too risky.”

“I won’t,” he promises, ending the call a second later. Only it’s a rather half-hearted promise, because there hasn’t been a single time Leo didn’t run headfirst into a dangerous situation to save his family. 

[dragonmasterhiccup]

She grinned mischievously. “Yes you are, we’ve established this. You are literally bordering on being considered elderly, so chop chop Hiccup, tie the knot already.”

At Valka’s revelation, she was a little surprised. “Woah, really? That young? Not- not that I’m trying to judge! I guess I just haven’t heard of many people having kids that young,” she said, shrugging, her eyes going back down to her soup as she ate another spoonful.

Chuckling, she nodded. “Sure, why not? That could be fun!” Maybe since they lived together, they could cook their own meals sometimes, instead of going to the Great Hall. It could be a fun learning experience for them both, considering what she’s heard previously about Valka’s cooking…

“Hm. Yeah, I guess.” Did he really think that people would find out? And just how bad would it end up being if they did?

The air had gone a little… tense, but after Danny had finished eating, she stood up and went to set the bowl on the table near the water basin to be cleaned.

“I uh, I think I should get going, let you rest n’ all that.” She smiled at both of them. “Thank you guys. For everything. I’ll see you back at home, Valka,” she said, giving a small wave before heading out.

———

Turns out, Valka was right. That dream had been a warning.

A few weeks after their talk, Spitelout had found out, because Snotlout couldn’t keep his mouth shut about the time him and the other riders had rescued her from being kidnapped.

Spitelout was furious. Hiccup had taken this girl under his wing knowing full well of her family ties. It was nothing short of dishonorable, to the tribe and to his father. Stoick would have never done such an act. He was smarter than that. He would’ve either sent her away, or imprisoned her. The shame Hiccup was putting him through.

He thought she deserved execution. She was a disgusting human, most likely a spy of the hunters, here to get valuable information on them.

Storming his way through the village, he eventually found Hiccup, working hard in the forge.

His presence was made known to Gobber immediately, who, not knowing what it was about, just let out a low whistle and went the other way, not wanting to be involved.

Ripping the tool Hiccup was using out of his hand, he glared at him. “You thought you could hide this from us?! You thought I wouldn’t find out that you’ve been keeping a Bludvist on this island, letting her roam around free for an entire year? Aye, I knew Stoick didn’t know what he was doing when he made you Chief. Us Jorgensons would’ve done no such thing.”

Hiccup was about to retort when Valka raised her eyebrows at Danny, a hint of a smirk on her face. "Aye, but if he is bordering on elderly...what does that make me?"

She let out a small sigh. "Well, we were both twenty years of age. Plenty of enough to get married. Besides, the dragon raids took its toll on us all. Stoick being the new chief needed to get married and secure an heir."

Hiccup paled a bit.

"I'm sorry, son, but that's the way it has always been."

Hiccup continued eating his soup, a little uncomfortable with the turn of conversation.

When Danny announced she was leaving, the two of them bid her farewell, both giving her a smile and a wave back.

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

Within a week, Hiccup was back to his normal self. Life resumed to somewhat normal, and he was helping out in the forge like he usually did.

The young chief was so focused on his work, he hadn't realized Spitelout was there until his room was yanked from his hands.

Inhaling sharply, he looked up in surprise, lifting his Deathsong goggles, eyes wide in horror.

He tried in vain to get Spitelout to lower his voice, with no effect. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut, the voice in his head that said his nightmare was coming true.

He could feel the anger and fear rising up, and he set himself to put it to good use.

"Hey, there's no need for insults here!" Taking a shaky breath, he tried to speak as calmly as possible. "She's no threat, and she's certainly not an enemy. Quite the opposite, in fact! Need I remind you, I am chief, my father chose me as his successor. Haddocks have been chiefs for hundreds of years for a reason. You doubt my father's leadership? When he isn't here to defend his decisions?" He paused before continuing. "Since becoming chief, I have been doing everything I can, to the best of my ability, to protect Berk, the people and our dragons! The person you are referring to? Her allegiance lies with us, with Berk. She's proved just as much in her time here. I made the decision to offer her to stay because she had nowhere else to go."

He refrained from speaking Danny's name outright, just in case.

Over the last few weeks he'd come up with many a backup plan if this came up, and he was glad he did.

But the best way to start was by standing his ground.

"If you have a problem with that, I'm happy to talk it through with you, but she stays here. This is her home."

[dogmasquerade]

fuck it why not.

I was gonna put this in the tags but tag limit so instead it's under here.

warning! text block ahead! traffic has been diverted to a different route. please scroll carefully

perpetual war- eschaton is about what happens after the end of the world. post-rapture depending on who you ask. when reality itself unwound and respooled and tangled itself in knots and rips and tears and belief changed truth and truth became lie. when the world tore itself asunder and gave birth to its death and killed its present and past and ate the future whole. when humanity went to war against things they called angels and gods and demons and devils and spirits and aliens and beings of a thousand other names depending on who you ask.

they won.

but now what's left is constantly having little skirmishes and conflicts. the whole world ended and yet it goes on as normal (countries continue to have unnecessary conflict with each other that does not necessarily result in tangible war but nonetheless is the foreplay to many)

human modification? Oh ho ho. when the soul is an intangible organ you can seperate from the body and stick wherever you please to instantly add intelligence and massive amounts of storage space why wait? stick souls in weapons, stick them in engineered biological nightmares, stick them in doors to open them automatically. who cares if its still a living human being with a sentient mind? open the door door opener. Even if you're dead it's no respite- since the world ended your immortal soul is stuck permanently here anyway so like. you might as well work! sure a dead soul can't learn but it still has a memory and a ghost knows how to count coins right? good. operate the train ticket machine dead man.

New and terrible war machines- well as previously mentioned souls can be inserted into just about anything with far less preparation than an organic-bodied pilot would need, and it's cheaper than building a proper self-piloting mechanism. Soul transfers aren't just limited to machines though- stick them in animals, they don't mind! animal souls are usually overpowered by human intellect anyway, it's hardly a risk, and if it goes wrong just destroy it and try with another. the cost-benefit ratio is worth it when you have a siberian tiger with a human mind ripping a man's face off at your command!

once upon a time it was possible to rewrite the rules of reality and create creatures from scratch, but since the Rift closed that's no longer possible. no new shambling masses of paradoxes as weapons anymore :( but that's okay because the great fields of bioengineering and mechanical engineering still exist! if the old weapons tear themselves apart because their version of truth is Incompatible with this version, just make new ones that are compatible!

AI ruler- Only 0utRUN, and it only runs the Undergrowth. which, while it is a city large and powerful enough to rival any of the major Cities, is sworn by a trade alliance and maintains a careful neutrality between the Big Three and the Federation. although rumours of it working with the Children of the Beast are rife...

Born a soldier- ehh arguably? for all the monsters made by humanity solely for the purpose of war. like Jean-Claude. ironically enough steel soldiers, which were manufactured by Boarate specifically for use as expendable troops for wave attacks that overwhelm through sheer force of numbers, don't count as born soldiers since they were made from refugees seeking shelter in the City and had lives before their conscription.

I can never go home- for the entire world. everything and everyone who existed before the end of the world existed in a version of the world that no longer is.

uncertain future, fear as a motivator, loving your weapon (because it is yourself)- goes as mandatory

Mass produced human bodies- the norm during the wars, still practiced by Viperalm. when you can re-use fertile bodies that you've already stripped the soul from to produce more souls, why not? it's basic efficiency and saves a lot of money and time. bodies don't die without a soul after all. they're an excellent source of a wide variety of genetic materials plus organs, and viable for live testing. Viperalm makes genetically modified soldiers using samples taken from their gene storage, and uses the same gene storage as incubators.

the body is a tomb- see above.

free space- i HAVE to fuck that [REDACTED]

your gun is in pain- see "humans modified beyond recognition". a human soul makes an excellent inbuilt targeting system, but a bird or a cat does just as well.

RC robots- with souls!

Trains- the Undergrowth is a massive connection of underground subways built during the wars as a way to get between the three Cities without exposure to fallout. 0utRUN repaired and maintains the trains there, and they run 24/7. they don't ever stop. entire towns live on those infinity trains, living and dying between rails and never knowing a life without the rocking of carriages around you.

dark forest / takeover- a lot of people think this is what happened to cause the wars.

global unity against threat- during the wars. now the world's ended we're all back to seething mutual dislike.

global warming- if i ever drew a map of Eschaton it'd be pretty funny. let's just say all the seas got up and walked somewhere else. even on a local scale fallout both nuclear and metaphysical linger, affecting weather patterns

cold, clinical use of language- (:

mars base- some ancient myths say there was such things as distant lands with toxic air where argonauts rode fire breathing dragons and set down in enchanted masks. historians widely agree this is in reference to earth, of course.

crappy public services- in the Cities it depends where you live. The deepest levels of monarchist Viperalm are the richest and have excellent services, while the surface level is... not great. The sunken side of Boarate is generally better off than the land-locked aspect, although the City's communist nature means standardised public services in theory. Hyper-capitalistic Gullaxian's flying neighbourhoods look down at the unwashed masses that spill onto the mountainside, and their public services don't ever go surface-side. In the Wastes, the Federation attempts to provide some kind of responding force for disasters and attacks, but most towns and villages are self-sustaining and vary greatly in what they provide to their people. 0utRUN has thousands upon thousands of machines at its command which provide a level of public service parallel to the City's best and arguably is closest to pre-war conditions.  and the CoTB have... some services.

Extinctions- tend to happen at the end of the world. What isn't so expected is the amount of de-extinctions. when you're constantly rewriting history, you sometimes get things mixed up. Welcome back dinosaurs!

And yet despite it all, still humanity clings to hope.

Bingo card for Bad Ending to compare tropes with your own setting.

A version of my sci-fi setting where, instead of technology advancing for communication, it pursues war. Fearful planets, exploitation, and machines alive in more ways than one.

[lunaprincipessa]

ENTRY FIFTY-SIX (CONTINUED: ENTRY SEVENTY)

Y2K: Part One

Currently watching a documentary about all the Y2K madness that started in the mid 90's. It was all about what people were fearing would happen with the computer systems "not being programmed right," potentially causing a massive technological glitch on New Years 2000. This glitch supposedly had the power to shut everything down, sending people into a frenzy to make doomsday preparations. Long story short, the world never ended, and life continued on as usual.

I hardly noticed back then. I was all of 18 and was partying way too much in those days.

But all the Y2K stuff isn't what prompted this blog. People were also discussing how computers and technology were influencing society. One woman was asked by a TV show host if computers would bring people closer together or if it would drive people further apart. "It's gonna do both, ironically." She went on to say, "It can bring the world closer together, but it can also be used to avoid human contact."

This was said long before technology was what it is today and I find her statement to be accurate, truthful, and ahead of its time. Why? Because that is EXACTLY what took place as the internet and its popularity grew.

So perhaps the real Y2K crisis wasn't computers suddenly not knowing what fuckin year it was, but the beginning stages of technology's deathgrip on humanity.

It is true, the world was most definitely brought closer together. People can easily chat with anyone from different countries at any time for example. There's also global shopping, international news, etc. In this area, the internet is a wondrous tool allowing us to experience the entire planet from the room we're sitting in. One man said in a phone interview, "now we can see how connected we all are."

Then there's that other part, "being used to avoid human contact." That's kinda what's taken place over the years too. Not all, but many kids, teens, and adults alike have nearly replaced human contact with technology. It can't be denied that technology has made communication faster and more convenient, but it deludes the connections we can form in real life. That's the issue here.

Before we go further down this aspect of it, what causes such a wondrous tool to become a psychological nightmare?

One word: overuse.

I think it's similar to alcohol and fast food where if you must partake, do so in moderation. Overuse has led us all right to a reduction in human contact and an increase in depression and isolation.

Not just depression and isolation, but there's also catfishing and cyber-bullying. All these things can serve as classic examples of needing help, needing to reach out to someone to talk to, but hoping online instead. No bueno. It doesn't actually solve the problem, it exacerbates it.

On a side note, as someone who was relentlessly bullied in school, I could not imagine the pressures kids feel today or the worries they have that their bullies will take to the internet to hurt them. It was just words and rumors when I was a kiddo and that was bad enough. Believe me! Nowadays, there's things like social media platforms that can be used to humiliate someone. How scary!!

One man in the documentary said that the internet has made it possible for all the things that have been taking shape in the human mind to have a chance to be expressed without anyone being able to do anything about it. Through motivational speakers and positive influencers that push narratives of healthy thinking and living, we can see how this is a really good thing. But through things like isolation or cyber-bullying, we can also see how this is a really bad thing as well.

Depends on how we use it and what we use it for. It's up to us!

In my view, overuse is one of the main causes of all things negative when it comes to computers and technology, aside from poor quality of life. Otherwise, going online wouldn't disrupt functioning or development as a human being. Being able to use technology as a tool is helpful but using it as a cornerstone is detrimental.

We are creatures of nature, we aren't meant to be plugged in... says the person on the internet blog but that's not the point right now. lol

The point is we can use technology to our advancement but we need to be careful before it continues to advance over us. And as far as technology replacing human contact... I won't hide the fact that getting a message from someone is exciting, but actually being able to see them, being able to look at them in real life, being able to see how the sun or moon illuminates their skin, being able to pick up on their body language, being able to smell their scent, being able to touch them, a keyboard can never compete with that. Ever.

A kid who was being interviewed about up-and-coming technology in the late 90's said, "We're gonna start to dive into the world of technology and try to survive there." Real survival and real living is done in real life. Yes, technology can make some things more efficient but we need to pay more attention to the things it's making more difficult, like person-to-person interaction and a healthy mental/emotional state. Too important to ignore!

Part Two at some point!

More thoughts later.

[gobboguy]

**Chapter 14: Shadows of the Past**

As the echoes of battle still lingered in the air, All-Saint's gruff voice cut through the quiet aftermath. "Fan out! Check the city for any remaining Orcs. We need to ensure they're eradicated entirely." His orders were met with the shuffling of boots as soldiers dispersed, disappearing into the war-torn streets of Fiuglia.

Meanwhile, Alden and Elara made their way toward the mansion, the former residence of the now-deceased Duke Fiu. The mansion stood like a dark sentinel against the night, its spires reaching into the sky like skeletal fingers. Its Gothic architecture exuded an air of eerie grandeur, accentuated by the moonlight casting long shadows across its facade.

They entered the mansion, the atmosphere inside heavy with the weight of the past. Elara's eyes flitted nervously around the grand entrance hall, avoiding the dark stain on the floor where Duke Fiu had met his end. Trying to break the tension, Alden ventured, "Quite a morbid decoration choice, don't you think?"

Elara managed a weak chuckle, her eyes betraying her unease. "Well, the Duke did have an...eccentric taste."

Alden frowned, his brows knitting in concern. "It's strange, though. We haven't found many Orcs. It's as if they've vanished into thin air."

Elara nodded in agreement, her gaze shifting to the mansion's ornate walls as she pondered the mystery. "I don't like it. Something feels off."

Before Alden could respond, a distant shout pierced the night, drawing their attention. They hurried outside, their eyes widening in horror as they beheld a raging inferno consuming the heart of the city. Flames danced like vengeful spirits, devouring everything in their path, reducing homes and streets to ash.

Alden clenched his fists, his voice filled with disbelief. "What in the gods' names is happening?"

Elara, her eyes wide with fear, shook her head. "I don't know, but we need to find out. And quickly."

With determination etched on their faces, they sprinted toward the growing conflagration, ready to confront whatever dark forces sought to consume Fiuglia in its fiery embrace.

The narrow, winding streets of Fiuglia, once quaint and bustling, were now a nightmare maze. The army struggled to leave the city, their movements impeded by the mass of men, creating a desperate bottleneck that seemed impossible to breach. Alden's eyes widened with dread as he scanned the scene, realizing the imminent danger.

"We can't let them be crushed," he exclaimed, his voice almost lost amidst the chaos. "We need to find a way out!"

Amidst the fray, All-Saint towered over his men, his once-imposing figure now marred by sweat and grime. His eyes, usually sharp and decisive, darted around frantically as he assessed the dire situation. Unbeknownst to them, the Orcs had set a cunning trap – while the attacking Orcs drew their attention, Orc sappers had ignited a raging inferno behind them, intending to trap the soldiers within the city's merciless embrace.

Alden, his mind racing with desperation, realized he had to act swiftly. "Elara, hold on tight!" he shouted, his voice determined.

With a strength born from urgency, Alden gathered his magical energy and leaped, his powerful legs propelling them up onto the rooftops. Elara clung to him, her eyes wide with fear as they soared over the chaos below.

Meanwhile, the soldiers below were panicking, their faces etched with terror as the flames encroached upon them. Elara, her hands deft and quick, sprinkled a powdered concoction over the troops below. The powder glowed with a protective aura, forming a barrier that shielded them from the flames' deadly reach.

As the troops passed through the protective barrier, their frantic cries turned into gasps of relief. Alden and Elara continued to guide them, leaping from rooftop to rooftop until they were safely out of the city. The soldiers, once trapped, now stood outside the fiery inferno, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and disbelief.

All-Saint, his expression a blend of gratitude and shock, approached Alden, his eyes meeting the Forest Protector's with a newfound respect. "Thank you," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I didn't think we'd make it out alive."

Alden nodded, his gaze steady. "We can't let these Orcs prevail. We must regroup, find their leader, and end this once and for all."

With determination burning in his eyes, Alden turned, ready to lead the soldiers back into the fray. The battle was far from over, and the flames that had sought to consume them would serve only to fuel their resolve.

Morning broke over the remnants of Fiuglia, its once-proud spires now nothing more than charred remnants in the early light. The city, once bustling with life, now lay in smoldering ruins, a testament to the brutal onslaught of the Orcs. All-Saint's grim expression mirrored the devastation before him as he huddled with Alden and his council inside his tent, war plans meticulously laid out on the table.

"All of this destruction," All-Saint said, his voice heavy with sorrow and anger, "is Gelbeg's work. We cannot afford to underestimate him or his Orcs. They are more cunning and determined than we ever anticipated."

Alden furrowed his brow, seeking to understand the gravity of the situation. "But why is Gelbeg so important? What sets him apart from the rest of his kind?"

All-Saint's eyes narrowed as he explained, "Ordinarily, Orcs are brutish and predictable, concerned only with fighting, feasting, and mating. But Gelbeg is different. He possesses a sharp mind and a tactical brilliance that makes him far more dangerous than the average Orc. He's the reason they've managed to organize and strategize to this extent."

Alden nodded, absorbing the information. The weight of their mission settled heavily on his shoulders. "So, our primary goal now is to find Gelbeg and end this threat once and for all."

With a determined glint in his eyes, All-Saint nodded back. "Exactly. We must hunt him down, root out his hiding place, and strike him down. Without their leader, the Orcs will crumble, and Farfield can begin to rebuild."

All-Saint turned to his scouts, his voice firm and resolute. "Send our best scouts out immediately. Find out where the bulk of the Orcs have gone, trace their steps, and report back. We need to be one step ahead of Gelbeg if we're to have any chance of ending this nightmare."

The scouts, seasoned veterans chosen for their keen senses and stealth, nodded in understanding. They vanished into the shadows, their mission clear: to track the Orcs to their source, find Gelbeg, and bring him to justice.

As they set out, the fate of Farfield hung in the balance. The city may have fallen, but the battle was far from over. The shadow of Gelbeg loomed large, but within that darkness lay a glimmer of hope – a chance for victory, and a promise of redemption for the fallen city of Fiuglia.

[incomingalbatross]

My favorite arc in LotR is actually “Gandalf & Pippin’s Questions.”

The core of this relationship is that Pippin likes asking questions and Gandalf only sometimes has the leisure to answer them:

'What are you going to do then?' asked Pippin, undaunted by the wizard's bristling brows.

'Knock on the doors with your head, Peregrin Took,' said Gandalf. 'But if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will seek for the opening words.'

(“Undaunted” is such a good word for Pippin re: Gandalf. He’s clearly never feared an authority figure in his life. Meanwhile, Gandalf is like “Pippin is a good kid but if someone doesn’t squelch him when necessary he’s going to do something REALLY stupid.”)

Later, the continuing saga of “Gandalf doesn’t like unnecessary questions” returns as soon as he does:

'Then Gandalf came back to us, and he seemed relieved, almost merry. He did say he was glad to see us, then.

’"But Gandalf," I cried, "where have you been? And have you seen the others?’

'"Wherever I have been, I am back," he answered in the genuine Gandalf manner. "Yes, I have seen some of the others. But news must wait."'

Note Pippin’s tolerant familiarity with “Gandalf giving useless answers.”

After Isengard and Pippin’s first sight of the palantir, we see its influence showing itself in Pippin’s stronger and angrier irritation at Gandalf's uncommunicative ways:

'You had the luck, Merry,' said Pippin softly, after a long pause. 'You were riding with Gandalf.'

'Well, what of it?'

'Did you get any news, any information out of him?'

'Yes, a good deal. More than usual. (...) But you can go with him tomorrow, if you think you can get more out of him--and if he'll let you.'

'Can I? Good! But he's close, isn't he? Not changed at all.'

'Oh yes, he is!' said Merry, waking up a little (...)

'Well, if Gandalf has changed at all, then he's closer than ever that's all,' Pippin argued.

We all know how that ends. Boy steals rock, boy looks into rock, boy gets his mind filleted by the Enemy, Gandalf evacuates with him to Minas Tirith.

But then! While Gandalf is quite clear that Pippin should have known better/talked to him before resorting to stealing (and he’s right, obviously), he also responds to this incident by changing his own behavior. He starts talking more.

'What did the men of old use [the palantiri] for?' asked Pippin, delighted and astonished at getting answers to so many questions, and wondering how long it would last.

And he seems to make it clear that this IS in response to the palantir incident, and is him attempting to take Pippin’s desire for information more seriously.

'But I should like to know--' Pippin began.

'Mercy!' cried Gandalf. 'If the giving of information is to be the cure of your inquisitiveness, I shall spend all the rest of my days in answering you. What more do you want to know?'

'The names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering Seas,' laughed Pippin. 'Of course! What less? But I am not in a hurry tonight. At the moment I was just wondering about the black shadow.'

(I love that Pippin laughs and says “If I have the option, I want to know everything, obviously,” partly because he’s making a joke so soon after that nightmare incident and partly because it’s the first time we see Pippin expressing a desire for real, comprehensive knowledge. Even if it’s a joke, this is also the point in the narrative where—having lost both Merry and Frodo—Pippin’s horizons start being forcibly widened, and we’re about to see him taking in an unfamiliar world by himself.)

Despite Gandalf’s “How much more do I have to say?” protest, Gandalf keeps talking and telling his passenger stories, even when Pippin’s falling asleep. <3

Pippin became drowsy again and paid little attention to Gandalf telling him of the customs of Gondor, and how the Lord of the City had beacons built on the tops of outlying hills along both borders of the great range, and maintained posts at these points where fresh horses were always in readiness to bear his errand-riders to Rohan in the North, or to Belfalas in the South.

After we get to Minas Tirith, they both have less time and less peace, but we still get a glimpse of Gandalf trying to balance Pippin’s questions with his other, weightier duties:

'There are evil days ahead. To sleep while we may!'

'But,' said Pippin.

'But what?' said Gandalf. 'Only one but will I allow tonight.'

(I don’t remember the exact question, but it was after they’d seen Faramir, and Pippin was disturbed by the fact that Frodo and Sam were traveling with Gollum. He wanted Gandalf to give an explanation, which Gandalf didn’t really have.)

Finally, two notes on the subject after the destruction of the Ring. Firstly, there’s this exchange when Frodo and Sam are first reunited with Merry and Pippin in their knightly armors:

'But I can see there's more tales to tell than ours.'

'There are indeed,' said Pippin turning toward him. 'And we'll begin telling them, as soon as this feast is ended. In the meantime you can try Gandalf. He's not as close as he used to be, though he laughs now more than he talks.'

And later in Minas Tirith (when Aragorn is keeping them around for his wedding, but he and Gandalf both refuse to tell them that’s why) Frodo teasingly recalls that line.

'Pippin,' said Frodo, 'didn't you say that Gandalf was less close than of old? He was weary of his labors then, I think. Now he is recovering.'

(Frodo, of course, also has a great deal of experience in “Gandalf not answering your questions even when he thinks he IS.”)

I don’t really have a point to this, I just love the shift in Gandalf & Pippin’s relationship over the course of the books, and I also love the change from Pippin’s sulky “if Gandalf has changed at all, then he's closer than ever >:/” to his merry, affectionate “He’s not as close now as he used to be, though he laughs now more than he talks.”